I've found my home

an apology

I can't post. Tried to start three different posts and failed miserably. Can't get the sentences to join. Can't get an idea to flow. Can't express what I want.

I'm going to blame fatigue. The academic year finished yesterday. Last week was a long wind down from the Lion King, through graduation, academic post mortems, to a last day meeting. Last night I had a very enjoyable evening out in the company of friends - five hours that felt like one. Physically I just want to sleep, mentally I need to detox. Writing posts seems impossible.

Have read Housekeeping vs The Dirt (excellent) and Lucifer:Crux (so-so). Dipped into Engulfed in Flames (luvverly and funny). Tearing my way through The Yiddish Policeman's Union (genius).

Listening to the new Coldplay album (learning to love it) and rocking away to the new Weezer album (brilliant).

Seen WALL-E (fantastic) and Wanted (awful).

Worrying about the finalists of Hell's Kitchen and So You Think You Can Dance (I have become this shallow).

Started a new diet in order to control my IBS which has flared up again.

But most of all I need to sleep. I need to rest. I just don't have the words.

I am still alive, still happy, still madly in love, still in Mexico.

Regular service will be returned once I've recharged.

sunday links

Sunday has become a day of dread in our house.

Sunday is the day that neil h. posts "Sunday Links".

Sunday is the day that neither of us visits his blog.

neil h.'s links will destroy the rest of your day. No matter how you feel about one or two of the links there is always something that will suck you in. Last week I spent an hour or so reading (and following further links). Two weeks ago Maria spent four hours playing a game. I have mentioned before, on here, the addictiveness of Desktop Tower Defender - a game that Maria managed to avoid for several weeks. That was until neil h. casually posted a link to another version that sucked Maria in.

And then there is Ikariam. A month and a half ago I followed a link to this game. A month and a half later I now have four towns on four separate islands. I would say that I spend about half an hour a day on the game. Maria will say that I spend three hours a day on the game. The truth is somewhere in between. But, seriously, nearly two hours a day on a computer game? No wonder I haven't read a book for a month!

In an attempt to claw back some of our lives we have come to a mutual decision not to visit neil h.'s blog on Sunday, the day of the links. Unfortunately, come Monday, one (or both) of us ends up there, and by Monday night we have lost some time, following some strange (but ultimately fascinating) link.

Therefore, in an attempt to pre-empt neil h. at his own game, and cause him much consternation, can I present my Sunday link:

Dogfish Head - probably the best beer in the world!

I am, at this moment, enjoying a bottle of Dogfish Head 90 Minute Imperial IPA. It is pure heaven!

The joy of this link is totally and utterly personal. It is knowing that neil h. will now want to taste:

A big beer with a great malt backbone that stands up to the extreme hopping rate.

9% abv

90 ibu

Tasting Notes: Brandied fruitcake, raisiney, citrusy.

and yet will be totally unable to. Hopefully, his desire to savour this nectar from the gods will keep him up at nights.

This is my version of payback!

thank you neil h.

The luvverly neil h. has written a haiku for my birthday:

Tijuana Will
Quintessentially English
Has found his home

As I said...isn't he luvverly :^)

breaking down the stereotypical walls

What's the difference between a Yorkshireman and a coconut?
You can always get a drink out of a coconut! Boom-boom!!
Thank you. I'll be here all week. Try the chicken.

The thing about a Yorkshireman is that he will always call a spade a spade.

And then, of course, there is always this:

Now, I'm allowed to type this/post videos about Yorkshiremen because I am from Yorkshire. Whether I agree with these statements/video is, actually, irrelevant. I know that I am always the one to buy the first round of drinks, but I also know that I can wax lyrically on about "t'good old days of yore". I suppose that it isn't my place to discuss a stereotype from Yorkshire. Of course, I could go on about people from Liverpool/Manchester, Lanchastrians, soft-Southern Jessies, Cockneys, Midlanders, Cornwallians (don't think that is a word), and that is if I just stick to picking on the inhabitants of England. Don't get me started on the Welsh, Scots, Northern Irish. Or even Europeans. Heck, I could probably rant (quite happily and I would think amusingly) for hours about most groups of people. But a blog is not the place to do that. Also I might find that I have offended all of my readers (both of them) and I would be a lonely blogger, rolling around in my own bile.

And, of course, internal stereotyping isn't just an English trait. No matter what country you are from/in  there is always a certain section of the populace that is portrayed one way by the rest of the inhabitants. Mexico has been a learning curve for me. The first hurdle I had to get over was where the fuck Mexico was! I had an idea about Mexicans (sombreros, mariachis, tequila, moustaches) but (honestly) thought it was a South American country. It's not! It is North American (and pity the poor fool who makes that mistake!). Plus, it is also a country the size of Europe+. This means that there isn't really a typical Mexican. What you (as a non-Mexican) may think of as a stereotypical Mexican is not what a Mexican thinks of as a stereotype.

Within the country there are many different types of people. I am going to talk about one stereotype - the people of Sinaloa. I know about people from Sinaloa because I have sat in conversations with Mexicans who are not from Sinaloa. Fact: All Sinaloans are drug dealers! That's all you need to know!! And if you sit and listen to the chattering classes, here in Tijuana, you will quickly become informed that most of the drugs/kidnappings/shoot-outs in this fair city can be traced back to one group of people - Sinaloans!

Except - there is a guy who works at the school. He is the nicest, kindest man I have ever met. He as a great sense of humour, he is fun to talk to, he is fun to hang out with. He speaks no English at all and yet I count him as a good friend. The other day he spent some quantity (and quality) time with Maria. They talked for hours. It was wonderful. She got to tell him all about me, he got to tell her all about him. By the end of the conversation they were best friends. However, by the end of the conversation he was still using the Usted form when he talked to Maria. Although she told him, several times, that he needn't be so formal, he couldn't stop himself. He is an exceptionally polite, kind man. He is from Sinaloa.

Except - there is this parent who found my blog. He commented on a post, a post in which I mentioned his daughter. This freaked me out. However, the next day, his daughter talked to me, passing on a message from him. That day we had an email conversation. Friday, his wife talked to me and I got to meet him face-to-face. He's a nice man. A very nice man. He has also become a blogger - he'd been thinking about it for a couple of months and discovering my blog, pushed him over the edge! So, in the links, at the side, you will see two new links, because the man hasn't just opened one blog, he's opened two! One in English, one in Spanish. Please visit them, read them, feel free to comment in them.

Oh, and I might have forgotten to mention - he's from Sinaloa. Me thinks that, as he continues to write, and I continue to read, my opinion of Sinaloans is about to go through a major-overhaul.

playing michael moore

Obviously I should be writing lesson plans.

Obviously I shouldn't be wasting time on the t'internet.

But, do you want to kick your paranoia up a notch? Do you ever wonder how connected all those big companies are? Me, I was surprised it took three steps to get from McDonalds to Coca Cola.

They Rule.

using my power for evil

1.  My god, you are competitive.  :) *

Yep, I really, really am. My mum used to say (probably still says it): If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing well. Except, because I am like that, I heard: If you can't do something well, don't do it at all. Unfortunately, what I heard probably worked in a negative way with me. I didn't apply myself. I don't like failure. I don't like not quite succeeding.

I have eleven O Levels. These are the exams you take when you are 16 in England. A C is a pass, an A is a very good pass, and an A* is excellent. However, I learnt that people are more impressed with the quantity of qualifications, rather than the quality. I have 11 of these things. To the disappointment of my parents, my teachers, nine of them are at grade C, two are grade B (in fact, if you want to be really pedantic William, you only have nine O Levels and two AO Levels). I have two A Levels. A pass, at A Level, is achieved with a grade of E or higher. My two A Level grades are E and D. I have a degree with Honours. There are four different grades for an Honours degree: A First (1.1), a 2.1, a 2.2, and a Third. I have a Third. You see, it's not the taking apart, it's the taking part. If I'm going to do something, and I know that I can do it well, don't stand in my way. Seriously, when I get involved, when something takes my fancy, I am more determined than a T-1000. I am waaaay too competitive for my own good.

Oh, some stuff I have managed to rein in. I don't play Monotony Monopoly to win any more. I'm having a really hard time trying not to win at Scrabulous when I play with Maria (or play with Alan and Maria) - I'm learning to just enjoy it for the fun of it. I've been through my "competitive dad" streak. I've realised that my children didn't learn by being beaten at sport/games/anything I could come up with, they just learned to sulk (Maria's kids are having a much easier time). As age has descended on me I have become more mellow.

Except I haven't.

And I blame it all on neil h.!!!

Before I go any further I should mention that we love neil h. He's our type of person. Does what he wants, is who he is, he's brilliant! Gotta lurve neil h. So, you have it in your mind - neil h. is a luvverly person, wonderful guy. He's the guy you'd want to spend several hours with. He is well read, in that way that he reads things that you've never thought of. He likes so many things and talks about them with such enthusiasm that you want to do those things. He is just brilliant. We love neil h.

neil h. is destroying my life!

It started with Desk Top Defender. DTD is crack cocaine for the non-console owner. Hours/days/weeks have been spent on becoming good at this - and, if you want to log on to the casual collective and check your scores against mine, I own you!

It has moved on. Somehow my competitive nature has sucked me into joining Mixclub. Because I know, I KNOW, that I can produce the bestest ever CD.

However, all of these things are done in the confines of our flat. On the whole, I am not going around and forcing my DTD results in anyone's face. Nor am I forcing anyone to listen to my music. And I am definitely not forcing anyone to go to Casa de Adobe.

No, I'm not! Just because every other week I mention that you should click on the site, doesn't mean that I am forcing it upon you. Except, I am competitive. I really want to succeed at this. Hell, it's nothing. It's just clicking on a site and having the counter convert clicks into people. But I'm competitive.

So I told my 6th Grade class about the site. Yep, I used my powers for evil. Suddenly I have a bunch of kids building their own mini-cities and visiting mine. And look! I have risen into the 300s. I am knocking on the door of being in the top 200 biggest cities in Mexico.

I am a bit sad really. I am that worst kind of person. I am terrible.

Please help me. Please, I have the kids at school improving my population, I just need help with my transport and industry. I am this crap :^)

* thanks Vanessa

expat blog

Maria worries about me. She worries that I miss home. She worries that I have no friends. She worries that no-one reads my blog.

She found a website where ex-pats can out up their blogs.

This explains why there is now a new link on the sidebar to the left (to the left, to the left as Beyonce would say).

I am now linked to expat-blog.com. So, now you know.

nuff said

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me, me, me - it's all about meme

So the wonderful Helly, in between updating us on the U-Haul and the skanky neighbours, has tagged me for a meme:

The rules: You must list one fact about yourself for each letter of your middle name. Each fact must begin with that letter. If you don't have a middle name, just use your maiden name. After you've been tagged, you need to update your blog with your middle name and answers. At the end of your post, you need to tag one person for each letter of your middle name.

Not just me, she also tagged the (even more [I can say that, Alan can argue - no, not you Alan, Helly's Alan]) wonderful Maria. The first I knew about this was when I dived into my office to grab some books and found a chat box open on my computer. Maria was demanding some answers for her post. I banged off the first words that came to mind, went back to teaching, back to my office, to discover that she had written a post. Also she had researched and put (a fuck of a lot) more thought into my middle name. Thus I shall steal all that hard work, pass it off as my own and give you:

My Answers to the Middle Name Meme.

ALEXANDER

A is for Amiable. I used to be angry. I used to be very, very angry. I was one of those annoying people who loved to argue, didn't listen to people's points of view and then I'd punch them. W*dnesd*y we went out with one of Maria's ex-lovers [yeah, I was surprised as well, she told me she was a virgin when we met]. This man was desperate, desperate to win Maria back and his plan was to put me in my place - point out how he was soooooo much better than I. I sat for several hours being belittled and man-handled. Yes, man-handled. The being pulled around was bad but not as bad as the slap to my groin and the smack round the back of my head. Oh, he knew what he was doing. He knew that if at any point I punched him, he'd have fallen to the floor - and let's be honest here girls - Maria would have rushed to his side, looking up at me with her beautiful eyes, full of tears, demanding "why? why?". I didn't punch him. I smiled. I am amiable.

L is for Loving. You know - I am. This might not come as a shock to you but it sure as hell does to me. I am really loving. As I sit here at the computer and try to think what to write about "loving" I realise that I do really love. I love my life, I love the people in my life, I love the things I do, I love the things that happen to me. More, I am in love. I am more in love today than I was yesterday. Each day I love Maria more. And you know what is great? Yesterday, apropos to nothing in particular, Maria said the same thing to me. She loves me more each day. And it is wonderful. It is wonderful to love someone and to be loved. Me, I recommend being loving. According to the Coke advert: "if you give a little love then it all comes back to you".

E is for Empathetic. I have been know to say: "look at this face, is this the face of someone who cares?" Often I am met with a single, one word reply: "Yes!" I'm not convinced that I have a caring face but I do care. I am very sensitive, sensitive to how others are feeling. I can lose sleep worrying about people. I will listen to stories and tears will spring to my eyes. Damn, I'm some sort of modern-man!

X is for Xenophilous. Hi, my name is Will. My girlfriend is Mexican. I live in Mexico. I am working towards claiming a Mexican passport and Mexican citizenship. Does that say it all? Need more convincing - read my blog!

A is for Analytical. She could have gone for anal but she went for analytical. I have a very mathematical mind, I like logic. I also have a vivid imagination but that isn't what I am talking about here. I do tend to break everything down to its component parts. I am a bastard to argue with - as you state facts (that are really emotions) I can turn those facts very fast against you. I can extrapolate to a frightening point - present me with a problem, an idea and within seconds I can tell you the faults, the end result, how it can be fine-tuned. I am also the guy who reads the instruction manual.

N is for Nurturing. I'm a teacher. I believe in children. I believe that, with the right amount of love, direction, caring, and information children can become "free-thinking autonomous human beings". It isn't just children - I love to see growth in everyone: friends and foes alike.

D is for Determined. I wasn't too sure about this one either until I thought about it. On the whole I don't like confrontation. If something is wrong I tend to do something about rather than confront. But, if something is wrong I do make sure it gets put right - even if it does mean confrontation - because I am determined. If I want something, I get it. If I want something done, it gets done. Gosh, I can be nasty.

E is for Enthusiastic. Hell, YES! I really am one of those annoying/boring people that just "bounce with the massive". I'd like to be "Eeyore" but I am more like "Tigger". I'm just happy, I just enjoy everything, I just want to have fun. Wow, I'm one of those people I dislike! Aren't enthusiastic people annoying! That's me.

R is for Responsible.   

1. Liable to be required to give account, as of one's actions or of the discharge of a duty or trust.
2. Involving personal accountability or ability to act without guidance or superior authority: a responsible position within the firm.
3. Being a source or cause.
4. Able to make moral or rational decisions on one's own and therefore answerable for one's behavior.
5. Able to be trusted or depended upon; reliable.
6. Based on or characterized by good judgment or sound thinking: responsible journalism.
7. Having the means to pay debts or fulfill obligations.
8. Required to render account; answerable: The cabinet is responsible to the parliament.

Yep, that's me.

Well, that was fun (see, I'm being enthusiastic). I think I learned a bit about me that I hadn't really thought about. Maybe a better way of doing this meme isn't for you to pick the characteristics, maybe it would be better if you got your partner/lover/postman to pick the characteristics. So, here comes the bit you have been dreading - it's time to tag. Looking at my links I only have nine people on them and there are nine letters in my middle name. Of course, I already know that several of those don't do memes, one of them tagged me, and one is on holiday. So, rather than "name and shame" I'm going to say - if you want to do this, do it, consider yourself tagged. If you are just passing through and you like the meme - go for it. You can leave a comment and I promise I will come and read.

and on a happier note

Methinks that at least two of my readers can handle the HUGE amount of Spanish in this song. The rest of you (hang on - isn't two both of my readers?) will just have to hum along: