In transit

We're in one of my favorite cities in the world, Mexico City. Unfortunately, we just have a few hours' layover, so we won't be here to explore as long as I would like.  In lieu of actually going out and finding things to do, I am sitting next between a China King and a Carl's Jr. in the D.F. airport, using some wireless connection or another and drinking a Tecate, smelling the mingled scents of rain, pollution, and Joop! which is either very popular here, or I have a 90s-scented stalker.  Ah, globalism.

We have a few days before we actually have to get to work at the Copa America and so I hope to spend some time in La Paz and Lima.  During that time, I hope to get some sleep. Sleeping is difficult for me at best, but near-impossible on an airplane, and as a result I have been up probably 30 hours at this point.  I don't feel sleepy at all, but I am pretty sure I am not making any sense when I try to speak and won't until I have a good solid twelve hours in an actual bed.

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