Guelaguetza

I threw up in the Union Station bathroom.

I was waiting for Puchero to pick me up and take me home after another week as a vagabond.

This time I started with touring UCLA with El Polaco and going to SPS. Then it was the cabin, a red-eye United Airlines flight, the Contemporary Resort in Walt Disney World and the cabin again, albeit a different host.

In Orlando, the monotony that Disney has over the city is sickening, from the time one first gets off the plane. There is never-ending stimulation of the senses, either through music, characters, or tour guides.

Yesterday, Andrea and I went to the Guelaguetza festival in Koreatown. We ate chapulines (crickets) that we bought from the Oaxaqueños and bought Tepache from the Comunidad Tlacolulence de Los Angeles. My first time having either one. We laughed a little, shared horrible sex stories, and stole beers from a Mexican wedding at the Greek Orthodox Church.

Then I slept. But not so well. I am back home now.