I’m Calling It All… “Sea Level”

Picture it, Mexico City, 2017. A fetching young man in his late 20’s, arrives from  the United States, days before the new POTUS is inaugurated and begins destroying the country. Mere coincidence. During his travels, he hopes to do all the things anyone his age would hope to; visit museums, learn the language, marry a rich doctor and gain dual citizenship to avoid the travesties that are sure to come to his home country, all this while assembling the ultimate vintage wardrobe which will surely be the catalyst for his career as an Instagram sensation. Social Media Eleganza, darling. Everything was going as planned, he met a cute enough doctor with a good sense of humor, his wardrobe was becoming something from Jaden Smith’s wet dreams, and celebrities had already begun to respond positively to his Instagram flattery. But, things began to take a turn, he was slowly becoming sleeping beauty (a bitch can’t stay awake for a full 12 hours), his doctor seems to be moonlighting as a rapper, because all he does is talk about how big his ass is and what he wants to do to it, and posts about the new POTUS are consuming everyone’s Instagram attention. Uncertain what to do, the young man packed all of his belongings, bought two one way tickets Cuba, and gave his doctor lover an ultimatum. That young man, was me. And that doctor…. was Gael Garcia Bernal.

Okay, I may have stretched the truth a bit, but who doesn’t? It’s like adding seasoning to your cooking. Here’s the skinny. I’ve never been this high for this long in my life and it’s taking it’s toll on me. Mexico City is 2,250m above sea level. This probably means nothing to you. Let me give your dumb ass some perspective.

Philadelphia: 12m above sea level,

San Francisco: 16m above sea level.

Denver: 1,730m above sea level…..

Mexico City: 2,250m above sea level. This entire fucking city is high as shit. And it’s hard to function.

I am a fairly active person. I usually run 6-12 miles, 3-6 times a week. I stretch. I dance. And I lived in Philadelphia for almost five years, show me the runway, cause a bitch can walk. But, here in Mexico City, I’m a different person. Let’s say my dumb ass decides to run six miles one day… that’s it! Nothing else on the agenda, day is over! Why’s that, you ask? Because I will get home and fall asleep before the keys hit the table. Let’s say, I decide to go for a walk, maybe 3 miles or so…. It’s a wrap! Show’s over! I’ll be needing to stop in the closest Taqueria to call an Uber. Oh! and I’ll need to set my destination to the OXXO closest to my house, cause if I don’t want to toss and turn for the next 12 hours, I’m going to need some Advil. Today I did 17 minutes of a HIIT workout and 30 minutes of  a Full Split Complete Stretching Routine and I fell asleep while going to click the “x” to close the YouTube window!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Some days, I say, “You know what, I won’t exercise today. I’ll try and make friends.” But, every guy I meet just wants to have sex with me and it is soooooooo frustrating. Can we hang out? Can you just sit down and see how funny I am? Look, I’m not crazy, I enjoy compliments like everyone else, but since these wonderful people here aren’t plagued with the same racial bias, the United States refuses to get treated for, everyone sees me for what I am…. FLAWLESS. I wake up- FLAWLESS. Post up- FLAWLESS. Ubering around in that FLAWLESS. Being beautiful has never been more alienating.

The news coming back from The United States…

Social Media Rants…

Hypocrisy…

Reality…

I’m calling it all “Sea Level”.

Because I’m over it.

Seven thousand feet over it (2,250m).

That’s it….

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s