There’s a site that’s looking to find the most beautiful word in Spanish. I’ve got several for the list, which, while maybe not beautiful, are lyrical and pleasing in other ways. Here are a few of my faves. Spanish is such a great language, especially the Mexican variety.

Huitlacoche — it’s a black fungus that grows in maize that is specially harvested for pricey tacos/ quesadillas

Esperpéntico- An adjective that roughly equates to grotesque in English. It’s all about holding up a deformed mirror to society and describing the distorted view in order to better criticise it I came across it in my undergrad degree course in 20th century Spanish theatre.

Pendejadas- Acts performed by a pendejo (idiot/wanker/fool). Stupidities.

Olvidarse- In Spanish you can absolve yourself completely of guilt when you forget things. ‘Se me olvidaron mis llaves” is a common way of saying ‘I forgot my keys’, and literally translated means ‘My keys forgot themselves at me’. Brilliant!

Antojitos- Mexican (bar) snacks. Antojo is a wish, antojitos, little wishes, or things you just fancy nibbling. I’m fond of pretty much any word with the diminutive ‘ito” ending. Guerita, guapita, casita, abuelita, chiquitito, cosquillita.

To turn a noun into an assault/ explosion/ crash you tend to shove —azo on the end. So you get: bancazo- bank robbery, avionazo- a plane crash, and tequilazo- a night of binge drinking that did you no good at all, or the economic crisis when agave prices went through the floor. Fun for all the family.

Ajijic, Jocotepec, Zapopan, Tlaquepaque, – local places with names more colourful than Taunton, or Downey for example…

In French my favourite’s pamplemousse (grapefruit) and in English, it’s a toss-up between ‘arse’ and serendipitous. If you fancy sharing yours comment away 🙂

My scrabble rating’s at 995 after a quick succession of blinding games. Maybe this weekend will be the watershed millenial game, or i may just plunge back to the 800s. It depends how late I’m out tonight with the usual crowd. Last night Sarah, her sister Betsy, Sita and me went to a few cantinas. La Fuente, (de rigeur on any cantina trip), La Maestranza, (for all your bull fighting memorabilia and 90s indie pop needs) and Los Molachos (named after the original owner who was indeed molacho , or missing lots of teeth). Still managed to make it to another productive day at work. They finally read over what I’ve been doing and are suitably impressed. Go me! (he wrote in a fit of self-congratulation). Business cards tomorrow and next week there’s going to be a sales person on the case, as they’re hiring a pushy young lady to go out and rain make or whatever they call it in marketing parlance. That would be good… Other plans: Tonight, more cantinas. Tomorrow, Tlaquepaque craft & photography, possible fiesta in the evening, Sunday, Laid back philosophical discussion, gauloises and strong coffees or maybe The Pink Panther remake. Whatever it is, you’ll read it here first. And last.

OK, that’s it, I’m having a piñata for my birthday on the 17th too. After an above par chicken and veggie soup I made with ingredients and everything, we passed by Chop, then a haphazard taxi ride to Los Famosos Equipales for mariachi cantina action and then on to La Maestranza for a bit of Toreador-themed fun. We made it back to the house and Ed got to smash the piñata to pieces with a broom handle. It’s better than the bumps every time. If I can work out how to stream video I’ll shove it up here, he looks like a man possessed.

Sita brought back all kinds of goodies from the states including spanking new trainers from her folks, the latest issues of Q, Uncut and several other music mags, a rug for the kitchen, decent cutlery, Barefoot Zinfandel from Trader Joe’s and a telephone so I won’t have to rush downstairs only to get another call from someone calling to request a song from a local radio station with one number different. And yes, she managed to swing an executive class upgrade again. Filet Mignon and fine wine apparently. I’ve got the airport run down to 22 minutes, though it’s taken me 1 hour plus to get back both times now taking the Tlaquepaque ’scenic route’.

Had a bit of skypage this morning with me mum and dad’s new handle because I can’t remember their password- please click ‘allow this person so see when I’m online’ if that pops up on yer skype thing. Somewhere along the line I checked a box saying let anyone and everyone call me and spent 15 minutes yesterday talking about the finer points of living in Mexico with someone from Toronto. I told him I enjoyed the space ride thing they had (and still have apparently) at the bottom of the CN tower. But then the soup was ready and I had to bid them farewell and hastily block people not on my contacts list, because life’s too short.

Once we’ve cleared up the papier mache remains of the chicken pinata we’ll off to the Instituto Cultural Cabanas to gawp at the murals and stroke our chins at whatever art they’ve got on display. Definitely a quiet day today. Sita’s not coming because she’ll be off there with our next visitors and she wants to avoid it becoming the Mystery Spot of Guadalajara (a place we’d take everyone who came to visit and thus ended up with 8+ complimentary bumper stickers)…

We’re heading for Puerto Vallarta soonish, despite every hotel being sold out. But maybe we can turn up and Sita can use her newfound ‘Upgrade me’ skills to get us a room. Also, Ian + family are passing by on Monday so I’m looking forward to that and all. If the blog’s a bit quiet for a few days, you’ll know why… Cheers and Bliain úr faoi shéan is faoi mise duit and Blwyddwyn Newydd Dda mes amis

The latest bell/whistle I’ve added to the blog, just to make it load slower for dial-up users, is a blog map, bottom right. I’m not convinced it’s a useful addition but it can stay there for a week or two to see if there’s a burgeoning blogging scene in Gwod. So far, it’s not looking good. There’s an 18 year old student- Mexico is my body, Chivas (the local football team, not the whisky) is my blood, He tells us. And there’s La Perla’ who’s a graphic designer who likes to go out drinking. And fair play to her.

I had to pinpoint where i lived on a huge scale map so it’s got me living East of Tlaquepaque, which isn’t strictly true. That’ll foil the burglars for a day or two…

Last night Sita, Jose and I went to an Argentinean restaurant, La Matera I think it’s called named after the gourd thing you drink mate out of. Mate wasn’t on the menu however, probably because it’s illegal in most countries. Jose chose the place after a recommendation from his sister about the food there and a colleague at work who recommended the meseras. Anyroad after 30 minutes wait or so, we ordered lomo, medium rare and bugger me if it wasn’t the most delicious piece of meat I’ve ever sunk my teeth into. Melts-in-your-mouth good, on a par with the filet mignon we had in Buenos Aires, and the filete in ‘La I Latina’, Guadalajara. Not only was it delicious, but plentiful too and there’s still some left in the doggy bag in the fridge. This place is only 5 or 6 blocks from the house, whenever I land another job I know where we’re going to celebrate.

Their chips weren’t bad neither…

So plans for day… AgaveWeb, possibly Tonala/Tlaquepaque (It’s market day), and a quiet evening, for tomorrow it’s round some mates’ house for Thanksgiving. Talking of which, happy TG to my american readers. William Burroughs wasn’t a fan, mind. Never was the cheeriest of folks though…