Little Bits of Mexico

I had some very sad little tacos today with a friend from the old office. They were pale replicas of their cousins in DF, but at least they had imported Mexican coke to wash them down. I know better places to get some. I have one guyaba left. I have to eat it tomorrow morning before it goes bad. I washed the last of the black pollution grime from behind my ears. Half of the billboards on the EL platforms are in Spanish. I saw some pictures in which friends were dressed like Katrinas for Halloween. Agt. 3L and I spoke over video last night. DF is starting to feel a little like a dream. Was I really there? Time has zippered itself up. I have been pinched back into Chicago like an errant piece of bread dough and while I feel more like I fit in here, I am afraid to loose my Mexicaness. I want to keep it and share it. It is sad, though, the Mexicans here don't love DF. They got out of that city and don't like to talk nostalgia about it. Maybe it is too hard to think of a place you are not going back to, or that you hate.

Chicago seems like a stage set; perfectly styled humans are sprinkled in here and there on the streets for effect.