Volcano of Colima

More on Volcán de Fuego de Colima

An active volcano in Colima, Mexico. It errupts all the time, that's why it's white - from the ash.

This picture was taken while standing atop sacred temple ruins. Hope I didn't get cursed.

Mexican-American ...the horror...

Here I am at the US side of the Mexican-USAmerican Border. I was scouting the area for a documentary film I was preparing to do on the dangers of crossing the border, i.e., death by minute-man. Notice the wall? It’s very colorful.

In polite circles, I’m a Mexican-American. I was born in the United States, therefore I am a citizen, but my culteral references are largely nfluenced by the Mexican customs of my immigrant parents.

Some think that it doesn't matter where you are from, you're American now. If that's true it's sad, because Americans passionless, dry, and unfair. On the other hand, being Mexican is sexist, classist, and corrupt.

Peligro de muerte

There are realities to crossing the border. If the heat doesn't kill you - and it can and will - the USAmercans will have a goat you, it's prepsumed.

On the other hand, these watering stations were put out by USAmeicans that believe that it is inhumane not to provide water to the dying. They get ridiculed and scorned by their countrymen for doing it. That's Christ-like.

Everything that is wrong about America can be corrected by what is right in America. Given enough time we may redeem ourselves.

It can’t come soon enough.

I'm here now, am I late?

I resisted. Yet, here I am 4 to 5 years later.

It all started when…

One evening, while celebrating my 31st birthday I crossed paths with an attractive woman I'd known a few short months. I fed her my usual sleep-with-me lines to which she responded, "Okay, I'll bite..." Not literally, of course, she meant she’d take my flirting and see me one better, “I’ve thought of you too.”

After exchanging a few admiring words we sat back down with the group of friends we came with and blurred the night with vodka-tonics. She gave me a web address; a weblog, she explained. The night ended and went home alone, but her “I’ll bite” left a mark and echoed in my head for a while.

It was an online diary. Being a self-absorbed guy I immediately sought out what she said about that night. I blushed.

How odd she? I thought. Why would anyone put their life up in the digital ether like that?

Years later, I am the odd one because I remain blogless.

Well that all changes today.