Awww…I forgot that it was Cinco de Mayo recently. I miss that from my years in Los Angeles. Great street fairs, margaritas, superb food, dancers and performers. *sigh* There are some things that I miss, aside from the obvious (my family and friends):
1. I miss Ashland, Oregon. I miss The Black Sheep and all of the faux-English architecture and getting burgers at Louies, the Shakespearean Festival and seeing deer grazing in our front yard. I miss the great mix of new-agers and hippies (old and new), side by side with the expat professionals from LA and SF who escaped to the countryside.
2. I miss hanging out with everyone at GZ on Thursdays, dancing and people watching, sucking down ice teas (or the 50 cent beers when we were broke). I miss Fannypack Guy and watching Carlos dance. I miss dancing and doing the goth-hand-thing. ;) I miss being able to hang out and party with my boyfriend and my girlfriend AND my boss, and knowing that everyone’s ok with my lifestyle, and I don’t have to pretend to be anything. I even miss those two really fat women that used to wear transparent shirts over thier bras and dance energetically. I miss everything.
3. I miss things like New Orleans and San Francisco. I’ve only been to New Orleans once, but now that it’s so difficult to go back (Phil wouldn’t be allowed back into the States after his brush with the INS), I really want to go.
4. I miss cheap gas.
5. I really, really miss my friends and my family. *sniff*
2 thoughts on “Cinco de Mayo”
Over in Central Washington, where there’s a huge Latino population it’s a big event but Cinco de Mayo is just another day in Seattle. Oh, some of the bars have minor promotions on tequila and Mexican beer and the Mexican restaurants usually recognize it somehow, but it’s just not the same as it is in LA…I remember the big festas and etc. from my time down there as a teenager.
Even if Phil can’t come over, couldn’t you take a trip back for a while to see your friends and family?
I can – I find it a bit scary to travel to the States now, as there are too many stories about people with something *different* about them (like living long-term in another country) being detained, sent back or otherwise harrassed. Plus, it’s just more fun to travel with someone else. I went alone last time, and I really wish that Phil had been able to come with me.