Never to be realised proyects, Part II.

1. Pamper yourself with a new dress or a new hairstyle. (This is always one of Magellan's tips for women with post-partum depression.)
I want to go wedding-dress-shopping. I am not engaged nor do I plan to marry anyone ever, and even if I did I would not do the whole meringue dress spend obscene amounts of money ballroom reception chicken stuffed with ham in yukky creamy sauce dinner party. I don't think I'd even bother with church either. But I would really like to try on some nice wedding dresses, and make up lies to the saleslady about my wonderful fiancé and the beautiful house we just bought and all the children we plan to have, and just for a moment look at myself in the mirror and feel that I fit in, that I can be just as perfect as anybody else, that I could live that life if I wanted to.
2. Make a plan.
I've always had the weird fantasy of living on the second story above a wedding dress shop. I think it would make me feel quite above and on top of that stupid dream everyone usually has. Stick your routine above of a cheesy dream and maybe you'll even have a magical life. My favorite wedding dress shop used to be "Novias Adelita" on 15 de mayo a block west from Pino Suárez. It had this really "glamourous" signpost from the fifties which presumably used to light up, and hideous mannequin women wore the most meringy dresses ever created. It must have gone out of business 20 years ago and 5 years ago the dresses were still displayed, all dusty and tattered. Today the place stands un-rented and cleared out, including the nostalgic signpost. But it was just the place I would have loved to live on top of.
3. Try a new excercise routine.
I would like to go backpacking around Mexico by myself. I would start out in Chihuahua, take the train to the Pacific, the only passengers train left in the country. Then follow the coast line down south as far as I can get, and then sort of spiral to the center, and then go back home. Or I could do it the other way around, starting in the middle, spiralling outward, and end up somewhere near Tijuana, stride up to California, and then swing back to Austin and then home. Or, I could simply never come back home again. This isn't really my home so who cares.