A NYC glam-ish girl attempting to live out of a hiking bag for 3 months- say whaaat!?

I've survived my 30+ hour bus ride, being sick as hell  mind you (did I forget to mention that? You know that "Montezuma's Revenge" thing everyone talks about in the US? You know, the reason [besides our being convinced that we'll get shot in Mexico, because, you know, the entire country must be a warzone, right?] that everyone hesitates going to Mexico? Yeah, well, it exists, and it totally sucks, so watch the fuck out when you come here). I've managed to drag my overly stuffed hiking pack all the way back up here without injuring myself or, to my knowledge, anyone else. I also managed to do this without breaking or ripping any parts of said backpack (score one for me!!!) 

But sadly, now comes the real problem- the minimizing of the backpack.

I just can't deal with it anymore! It's TOO fucking heavy, TOO annoying, and TOO prone to breaking, and the last thing (and the most likely thing to happen to me) is to have something break on this thing, thus totally causing an unnecessary downer on my magical journey.

There's no way around it, I must do the inevitable- get rid of at least half of my clothes.

Dear Lord, how do I do this?! After all, I need my 6 pairs of nylons- you never know when you're going to be in surprisingly chilly weather and need to wear layer upon layer of black sheer stockings (a great NYC trick for any glamor girl that hates wearing pants, like me)... right!? And, I mean, I grew quite an attachment to that last-minute purple hoodie I bought before I left. And don't get me started on the cotton/spandex blend Betsey Johnson stirrups with cute little pink hearts all over them- I haven't worn them since my Jem costume last Halloween, but still... for memory's sake??

Le sigh. I suppose I can get rid of a few dresses- NOT the nylon flowy ones, but I suppose I could get rid of one or two maxi dresses, maybe... and perhaps a tank top or two...

But one thing's for sure- I cannot get rid of my beauty products. You have no idea how happy I am to have my 3-in-1 honey exfoliator/cleanser/mask back in my life (I left it in Morelia). I feel naked without my hot pink nail polish and matching lipstick. Mascara is an essential and a girl never knows when she's gonna need her face cleansing towelettes to wipe off that mascara at night... right? You can't rely on water everywhere you go, you know!

Ugh. Fine, fine fine. I suppose I can manage to get rid of my army green cargo skirt (though it would be PERFECT for a hike in the jungle) and maybe I can manage to part with one of my three sweater cardigans- as long as it means I get to keep my illuminating face cream and vitamin c face spritzer... deal? Deal.

The mess I've created...

Ways to NOT travel Mexico, 101

I finally arrived back to Morelia, Mexico. I cannot stress how much I am emphasizing the "finally" part here.

You see, after much debate, I decided not to go back to Morelia and Pátzcuaro for Day of the Dead. Too expensive, too many travel hours (boy did I underestimate that one). But Christian, my lovely host and dear friend in Cancun, convinced me to "get the fuck out" in fear that the level 3 hurricane that was coming their way might fuck up my travel plans longer than I would like.

So off I went. I booked a 24 hour bus to Mexico City ("there's a crazy hurricane coming, right?!" says the NYC girl who's never experienced a hurricane in her life. "Clearly all of the airports will be shut down by tomorrow, so I'll have to take a bus!"). The 24 hour bus ride actually turned into a lovely (sarcasm, of course) 30 hour bus ride. 30. Fucking. Hours.

From there, I immediately got on another quite lovely 4 hour bus ride to Morelia. By this point, four hours was a piece of cake.

Finally, finally, finally got to Morelia at around 1:30 AM on 28 October. Did I mention that I left Cancun at 2:30 PM on Wednesday 26 October? You do the math, because I kind-of suck at it, but aren't we looking at over 30 hours of traveling here? On a bus? Yeah. YEAH. I don't recommend taking a 24 hour bus ride ever, unless you plan on taking a good amount of tranquilizers to knock yourself out the entire time (and unfortunately, I did not have any. Isn't pill popping more of a US thing anyway?).

30+ hour bus ride. I'm checking that one off my bucket list and I never, ever hope to encounter that one again- nor do I wish that on anyone... except really mean people and, well, anyone who's wronged me in any way, shape, or form. Oy fucking vey.