Mole.

About a month ago I got a new roommate, Brenda. She is a pure joy. straight from Mexico city and came with nothing when she moved in. She had to wait for a about two weeks before she found a bed.

We talk for hours, the teaches me about Mexico, and I teach her about The Bachelor. She is confused by my love for Catholic art and I hope all the time that she doesn't feel like I am mocking her. We have had long conversations about Latin Music and she laughs at my attempt to sing Enrique's spanish songs.

The past two weeks her mom has been staying with us from Mexico. She is the smallest, sweetest little thing. She speaks no English but that doesn't stop us from late night chats, Brenda translates everything. She told me I'm happy and can read people very well. I told her that she can come stay with us anytime. I'm sure I am giving them both a crazy first impression, I have for some weird reason been dressed up in three different costumes around the house this past week. I try to sneak out so they don't see me and I won't have to explain, but I get caught every time. Explaining that I was dressed as a Spanish Matador for a Mexican Quincenera was a hard one to talk through.

Yesterday the two of them didn't leave the kitchen, and it took them 4 hours to make Mole. The kitchen smelled of a Mexican spice that cleared the winter blues away. It was so completely lovely.

I wasn't allowed to eat the Mole last night, because they told me it was too heavy on my stomach before bed. If I was used to eating that kind of food it would be ok, but because I'm not, I needed to wait.

Mother knows best. Maybe I'll get to try it tonight.

They have added such a fun dynamic to the house and I just love them.