It's the night before my honeymoon and all I can think about are Mexican bandits kidnapping me. Boo and I decided on a belated honeymoon since I am so fond of autumn and didn't want to leave it behind in October when we were married. We decided February is the crappiest month of winter. Although it is numerically the shortest month; it is long in a very sneaky wintery way. So we are gettin' the hell out of dodge for a whole week. The warm tropics of Playa del Carmen await us. In case you are geographically challenged, that is one hour south of Cancun. It's also one hour south of all the hoopla, crazy drunken tourists and high rise resorts.
Our resort is on 85 acres of jungle and it's only three stories tall. I'll provide the link when I get home and I'm not about to crawl in bed. Our flight is at 7:15am...the sooner I sip a pina colada by the ocean.
My mom has got me all wound up about wild bandits though, "You know they like American women and steal them sometimes." "They might hold up your van when you're in the middle of nowhere!" I'm a bit anxiety prone, and what I mean by that is I take medication to chill my ass out. I really don't need her help thinking up irrational shit for me to pile onto the irrational shit I've already thought of on my own.
Anyway, if this is my last post for more than two weeks, send someone after me in the Riviera Maya; the bandits got me.