Sunday: Sundreary

The soft hum of a poorly played didgeridoo sneaks its way into my house; the stoner teenagers next door spend most of their lives on the room adjacent to mine--harmless, high, and psuedo-hippy-esque.

The weekend flew by. It is Sunday night and my body is still sore. Saturday morning was spent playing Ultimate Frisbee with a bunch of the other Gringo teachers. We played six on six, with two subs for each team. The altitude and the pollution made breathing fiery. It was great to get out there and play a physical sport. One girl played for University of Michigan. She apparently keeps frisbees in her class, so hopefully some time this week, I can get out there and practice my flick. After Frisbee, I took the dogs to the park in the Condesa. It is a blast letting them play, and it is good for practicing my Spanish, because everyone is curious about Chops.

Saturday night I enjoyed my mom's dinner party via Skype. I sat in my house, and engaged with people through the wonders of the 21st Century. It was good seeing folks, and the familiarity of my childhood house.

After that I met up with some friends and we headed to a party in the South of the city, in Colonia Coyoacan. It was 20 pesos to get in, and 20 pesos for rum and cokes. I don't typically drink hard alcohol, but it felt right. The party was eclectic mix of artists, scenesters, hippies, and beat junkies. In various rooms in the house, artists were displaying their work. A live band, followed by a DJ spinning House music, made for good times. I bobbed and swayed, and rocked and rolled--I talked to a few chicas, but when the closing bell rang, I left with the people I came with. Mauricio, Katie, and I hopped a cab back to Condesa. Upon entering the cab, I realized that the drinks were strong and my blood was permeated with alcohol. I was definitely not enjoying the bumpy ride.

How I remember the rest: Stopping at Ticzoncito for tacos, I ate one taco and couldn't stomach the next; Went to the bathroom, tried to relieve myself, but was locked up like Fort Knox; Began walking back to Katie's and singing loudly with accompanying rhythm claps, "That's the sound of the men (get back!) working on the chain....gay-yee-yang!" I watched some movie with Charlie Shehan when I was little kid, and he played the one white private with a bunch of black soldiers, and well they sang that song with one another, and I have known it ever since. In any event, we got to Katie's, I laid down and went immediately to sleep. I awoke in the morning, Mauricio was already gone, Katie was haggard, and I was bewildered that I had slept till 11. I believe we made it to her house at around 4am.

Long story short, today was spent on the couch. I had big plans, and they all sort of vanished. I took the dogs for a walk, found the local super market, dropped them off, and went shopping. I was in the market for about 40mins, and towards the end I started sweating and feeling a little antsy. The poor bastard bagging my groceries, a young brown skinned chap, no older than 14, wrecked four of my bananas. I tipped him anyway, and got the fuck out of the noise--Mexicans are engulfed in a constant fanfare of fucking buzzers and whistles--THEY LOVE IT!

Came home, got some water from the corner store, cooked dinner on my camping stove, and watched "The Office",

Now here I am. Still tired, and a little smelly.

Happy Sunday.