Last Dance

The sun is going down on my last day in México. I don´t want to leave yet.

Latin Fever has been a good event. We´ve only been jumping in and out of it - I never did follow the standard Circuit this week. The standard procedure, for most, was to rent an umbrella and chair on the beach, socialize all day, head to Blue Chairs for sunset cocktails, head to one of the numerous t-dances, eat or take a disco nap, then head to the clubs around midnight.

We made it to two of the dances, and I did chill with the boys on the beach for an hour yesterday. Otherwise my days have been much more random. I like that this wasn´t an insanely structured weekend like Gay Days, and that it was smaller and more intimate than the mega-events like Sydney and Montréal. And it gets bonus points for being a mostly Mexican event with a strong California showing. Ron, Fred, and I are the only ones from Hawai´i that I know of, and I´m equally sure that Sean and Alastair are the only ones representing Australia.

I still wouldn´t put it as a mandatory stop though ... unlike Montréal or Sydney there were none of those pure cathartic moments on the dance floor that keep me coming back. But then again, it was local dj´s - we didn´t have a Manny Lehman or Abel to bring things up to another level. So it was a great party, and I´d come back if the timing was right ... but there are so many places to see in the world that this might really be my last night in Puerto Vallarta.

I´m still moving slow from last night. It was messy, if good, fun. Michael L and Rogelio had gone to bed before the rest of us were even dressed to go out. We made it to the club around 1am, the same one as Thursday, and hit the bar then the dance floor. We lost Ron after an hour or so. I lost the rest of them around 3. The last I saw of Alastair he was clinging to a Roman column and flogging himslef with a lightstick, hoping that someone ... anyone ... would understand without prompting that he was acting out the Second Sorrowful Mystery. Later I heard a convoluted story on how he and Sean had gotten split while trying to find a salsa club while speaking only French.

So it was that kind of night. I ended up with a group of guys from Chiapas. I held back from asking how the Revolution was going, and so we all stayed on good terms.

For all that, I woke up feeling awfully perky. I cooked breakfast for the house, did laundry, packed my bags, did all my Christmas shopping, and balanced the House accounts all before noon. I wish I could be this productive in Honolulu.

And now it´s time for another disco nap. Tonight is the White Party on the Rio Cuale. It´s the main event, but I´ll have to restrain myself somewhat. - my plane leaves at 7am. It was the best I could find. I´ve got my bags packed and my clothes layed out for the next twelve hours. I´ll leave the party at 4am, do a quick shower and change, and be on my way. This is par for the course - I´ve lost count of how many times I´ve left the disco directly for the airport. It´s never a pretty site, but I can´t imagine I´ll change my ways anytime soon. It´s all too much fun.