Redheads Guide to Dominica

Me and my neighbor Wesley are headed for the island of Dominica (not to be confused with The Dominican Republic) tomorrow to hang with her mom in the banana fields till Sunday...and I haven't a thing to wear (truthfully, because all my clothes have holes in them, but that's a story for another time, and will be coupled with a request for a benefactor/ess to help me replenish my clothes since we've had an attack of the moths). It actually crossed my mind, believe it or not, to solicit funds for clothing for Amigos members after I bleached a pair of my work pants (on top of all my holy clothes) the other day trying to keep the floors clean for my coccidia-laden kittens.

I'm looking forward to the trip. It's about an hour and a half by small plane--American Eagle--to Dominica. I have done absolutely no research whatsoever about Dominica, but did hear from a pilot that frequents our store that it's not only his favorite of all the Caribbean islands that he flies to, but it's also the one he says Columbus would recognize he came back around for a visit. Dominica is a volcanic island, with a lot of hiking apparently. It also has a boiling lake, which might be overrated in that you have to endure a lot of sulphur inhalation before actually getting to the destination. I'm a total volcano lover, and did my share of sulphur pranayama while climbing an active volcano in Gautemala, but I'm ambivalent about the boiling lake. I'm a redhead though, so volcanos really do it for me, but maybe we'll just crest one, rather than the lake. We'll just have to see.

It's always good for me to take little trips out and about around Puerto Rico, or just out and about away from Puerto Rico. I need that constant change just to get by here. Sad, isn't it? It's not really that sad, but I realized the other day that I'm so reined in compared to how I would be living if I was in the States. I was thinking about that while driving across the Moscoso bridge the other day singing to Puddle of Mudd or Linkin Park, one or the other. I've spent three years without taking one singing lesson, after years of singing lessons and classes at school, and singing is one of the things that gives me the absolute utmost joy in life--pure unadulterated joy. Like if I could be doing anything for a living or do anything in life, that would be it. It's like swimming on clear, flat days here; it just makes your day. Anything else "is cake," as Diaz Martin would say.

To get ready for our adventure to Dominica, we are going out to our old neighbor Trace's--the good cook--for dinner. It's a belated birthday for Wesley, who is pictured above languishing on Playa Sucia in Cabo Rojo from our trip there a couple weeks back. Wesley runs the Coliseo de Puerto Rico, a 17,000-seat arena in Puerto Rico that is ranked 10th worldwide in ticket sales. She's pretty hot stuff. She's fully bilingual, having been born and raised in Spain. And she's a sucker for swimming, sweets and warm weather. She also used to work for WWE (formerly WWF). Yep, with all those big massive wrestlers. I already gave Wesley her cupcakes and her present, but am looking forward to Trace's present to her: penne pasta with smoked gouda and grilled eggplant, a cobb salad and copious amounts of red wine and good conversation. Maybe, just maybe, I'll get Wesley, Trace and Diaz Martin to catwalk (like America's Next Top Model) for the camera like I did a couple weeks ago.