I've had a rough week. No deaths in the family or anything seriously bad, but it's been a bit emotionally draining. Finally got in touch with the guy who owns Tynan.com, and he refused to sell to me at any price. A writer I was really hoping to work with decided not to contribute to a project I'm working on. Some girl stuff. And it's been rainy. I'm not complaining, just briefly illustrating how my week has been so far.
The past two days I've sat down to write my thousand words, and it's been frustrating. I sit and stare at my computer, come up with an idea, write three paragraphs, and then get stuck again. I've never before in my life been in a situation where I've started a post and then got a few paragraphs in and lost so much momentum that I can't finish it.
But above this one I have two three-paragraph posts.
When you write every day, coming up with topics becomes the hard part of it all. So whenever I go on a trip, I try to wring a post out of it. In some cases, like the Peru trek, the thread is easy to find and get on paper, but today is my last day in Tulum, and I'm not sure what to write about exactly.
I've been here for nine days, and for the first seven days I was ambivalent about being here. That's not to say that I wasn't having an awesome time, only that I also really love just being in San Francisco and working, too. Even though everyone here sort of acts as if it isn't, Tulum is an extremely touristy place. I'm in paying in pesos, but my food costs more than it does in San Francisco. And, having traveled a fair amount, I've developed an allergy to touristy places. On top of all that, although I'm no stranger to being called a hippie, compared to the average resident here, I'm a suit. Phrases like "the Universe has brought you here", "There's no such thing as tomorrow. Only today." and "Do you want an astrology reading?" are commonplace.
All that said, I've come to agree that there's something magical about the place. I first had this thought last night. I was sitting on a loungy sort of couch with my friend Anderson, and one by one the friends I've made over the past week came to join us. At one point I look up and I realize that within my view are the smiles of a dozen or so people who I actually really like and care about on some level. It's a ragtag bunch, too-- a Bulgarian who looks like the Michaelangelo statue, maybe because he's always popping down to do a few reps on the Ab-Roller he carries around; a founding member of an infamous hacker group, who is most likely here avoiding the law (and he's not the only one); a waifish New York yoga teacher who fled a wedding and spends a lot of time on the couch wearing oversized headphones; an Australian girl who may just be the friendliest person I've ever met; and a bunch of others. In the background someone I'm told is "one of the best DJs in LA" is playing music and playing the bongos. Beyond the open living room we're all sitting in, are the sounds of crashing Caribbean waves.
