Friday morning's e-mail from Julieta saying her dad's girlfriend was in the hospital in the city and they were coming here put a pretty quick halt to the original weekend plans - Julieta Venegas concert in Querétaro followed by a trip to San Luis Potosi.

So, a bit disappointed to still be in el D.F., I made the most and took César up on his invite to the concert (Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra with Lila Downs) in the Zócalo. It was awesome - so many people, wonderful music, and the colonial buildings forming the square all looking mystical lit up in the darkness. Afterwards, five of us went to a little near-empty cafe-bar in the centro and danced to the music of a keyboardist "accompanied" by two go-go-style girls wearing scant matching costumes.

When the idea of going to Cuatla for the rest of the weekend came up, it seemed too perfect - I already had my bag packed! Xochitl and I crashed at Laura's place, and I awoke bright and early to meet her little daughter, Abril, who is adorable and bonded with me over funny-face-making. César came by and we were off to meet the other cars and caravan to the parachuting place, stopping by my house on the way to pick up my toothbrush, swimsuit, etc. Not to get anyone excited (or Nana worried), I didn't jump - this time. Instead, I stayed on the ground and took pictures of the people floating (mostly) gracefully down towards me. Definitely gave me an appetitite to fly (outside a plane), though.

Next we went to Xochitl's friend Sandra's weekend house, which has a pool (wet), pool (billiards) and ping pong tables, and even a trampoline... We ate well (even though I didn't get to try much of the food, which was mostly carne), socialised and enjoyed the sun/water. At night, we ended up on the trampoline, chatting and looking at the sky. It's so nice to actually be able to see stars. Got all cozy and blanket-covered and ended up sleeping there, under the great open night. Only complaint was the mosquito that kept buzzing in my ear; every time I tried to swipe at it, I rocked the whole trampoline, so eventually I just tried my best to ignore it.

On the way back, we stopped for quesadillas at a road-side joint. I tried a couple bites, but didn't order my own (damn digestive paranoia!). I was pretty tired and really looking forward to hitting the sack; then I realised it was Sunday afternoon and they'd soon be having noisy dance classes in our living space, so I wouldn't be able to relax, let alone sleep, there. Plan B: hung out at César's place until a safe hour for home-coming and, finally, enjoyed a much anticipated my-own-bed slumber.

It's occurring to me how little time I possibly have left in Mexico, how much more I want to do than I'll be able to; how just as I'm starting to feel like this is home (for now), I've got to start thinking about packing up and leaving...