Coke Drinking Wedding Crasher

There's a tienda (read: store) on the corner of our street that sells glass bottled Coke. If you bring back the bottle from last time, the new one costs only 5 pesos, roughly about 40 cents. They're refrigerated, made in Mexico, and full of a half litre of lovely, chilled carbonated goodness. I had originally decided to give up soda while in Mexico; then about five days ago, Nick told me about this sweet deal and in a matter of about 2.5 seconds, my resolve was gone. This doesn't say much for my resolve I realize, but I like to think myself easily adaptable to different places.

I also crashed my first wedding, yay! It was held at a hacienda out in the middle of some Mexican desert complete with horses, sheep, and free roaming peacocks. There seems to be a trend here of allowing one's exotic pets to have their run of certain property. I'm not complaining, but when a peacock decides to take flight right over your head, it is NOT a comforting feeling. Their loud, eerie squawks are also a bit disconcerting. Anytime anyone clapped for anything at the reception, they decided to join in and add their two cents from high atop the hacienda's brick chimney. I never knew they were such fans of weddings. In addition to peacock calls being seared into my brain, I also came away with authentic red maracas, a crépe paper flower, and a new hankering for Mexican tortilla soup. Throw a bit of gooey, melty white cheese in that mess, and I could eat it every day for breakfast. YUM.