Stamp One In My Shiny New Passport

A week in Tulum Mexico with nothing but Yoga...I know what you're thinking: it's like the Mothership has called me home. Not even 10 hours here and I have already met a kindred spirit in my roomate, who's name is, (wait for it) Jettileese. I am just sure it translates into Mother-Tree-of-Earth-and-Light.

I had a brief flash of panic when I introduced myself and discovered she was from Puerto Rico. I was sure between my fast talking Midwest upbringing and her thick accent that we were just going to be a hot mess. But five minutes of introductions became 2 hours of Yoga speak that did my soul good. I got to use words like "Ashtanga" and "chakras" all without so much as a flinch. I imagine to an outsider, our giddy conversation about inversion poses and sun salutations would sound much like passing by a conversation of two nerds in line for the midnight showing of Star Wars. Basically you're just totally geeked out and you really couldn't be happier.

For those of you who don't know, I am here to finally gain my Yoga instructor certification. Eight days of yoga, the beach and other yogi nerds like me getting our Namaste on. I slipped my family some crazy juice since as you can see I have no other explanation as to how I could convince them to let me do this. They are all pretty amazing to let me pursue my passion and I just feel amazingly blessed.

This being my first jaunt out of the country, here is what I have learned so far about Mexico:

One: The Diet Coke is better. Like way better. And it's like they know it too, the punks. They don't even call it Diet Coke, it's "Coca-Cola Light."
Two: The hotels here are a crack up. It's all jungle, jungle, jungle, HUGE MASSIVE HOTEL entrance. Like doors to the Emerald City huge. Like sometimes King Kong is a guest and we have to be ready huge. I'll have to get pictures on the way home, it's wild.
Three: Turns out the pictures online were not photoshopped or altered in any way. This place has scored with some of the most amazing ocean water I've ever seen, which I am allowing to almost make up for the humidity.
And four: I really wish now I had spent less time purposefully tormenting my High School Spanish teacher and more time actually trying to learn the language. How cool would I look if I just rode into town and was like, Blam!: "Hola, mi Nombre is Melanie. Donde es el bano? That's right, I'm totally just talking to you right now, sup?!"

Oh well. Not the first time in the last 15 years that I've wished I paid a little more attention in school. (Other times include but are not limited to any kind of baking and not being able to find the exact measuring cup I need. Curse you fractions!!)

But I'll keep you updated on my adventures if you're interested, so check back. For now I gotta run, cuz you know, the beach is over there and I believe I hear a Tree Pose calling my name.