La Vida Loca

Here goes nothing. I’ve been thinking about starting a blog for a long time now but there was always something standing in my way. Well, actually, who am I kidding? The biggest problem was forcing myself to get over the idea that blogging is just a self-indulgent way to convince friends that I’m leading a really exotic life in Central America. Oh yeah also, as I once said in a job interview, I'm kind of lazy sometimes.

Well now laziness aside, I guess it's time to start talking up this exotic and exciting life I'm living. It is, after all, the life I gave up on my "real life" for, or at least that's how my good friend Liz Bearce put it. I do feel blessed and fortunate to be living the life I'm living, although it’s hardly the exotic and exciting tropical life most people think of when I say I'm living in Costa Rica.

San José does have its charms, but as far as the daily grind is concerned it's a dirty, crowded, dangerous Central American capital city. I find something oddly enchanting about it however.

Maybe it’s the coverless manholes that I fear one day I will drop into for the rest of eternity or the thrill of crossing the street without being killed, I’m not sure. In fact, I was thinking the other day as I strolled down the side of the highway to get to the gym how I wouldn't take anyone I know on that walk voluntarily.

The walk to the gym involves crossing a four-lane highway at a point where there's a blind curve, entrance and exit ramps, and the previously mentioned coverless manholes camouflaged in the tall grass along the median. Maybe I should stop now before I really give my mother a heart attack.

I do look both ways before I cross the road. And it is a nice ego boost to get the honks, whistles and catcalls from the passing motos, cars (including police cars filled with policemen), and trucks. Ah, I am living the life.