Five days into May. The fifth. Maybe I should take the fifth...but I don't know where I would put it. Best left where it is, on the calendar. Of course it is the Fifth of May or, as we Americanos call it, Cinco de Mayo. The day of Mexican independence. Well, actually, I think it actually celebrates a victory over an invading army from France. The actual independence day for Mexico is I believe September 5th or 6th. But anyhoo, it is a wonderful reason to eat Mexican food and celebrate Mexican heritage, which, sadly, I did not do. I went to a truck show in Perris and had lasagna at an Italian restaurant, gringo that I am.
So five days of May down. Twenty six to go. June will be busting out all over before you know it. Where is the time flying? I don't know. I really don't know.
Feliz primer día del resto de tu vida. En todo. (Happy first day of the rest of your life. Entirely.)
So five days of May down. Twenty six to go. June will be busting out all over before you know it. Where is the time flying? I don't know. I really don't know.
Feliz primer día del resto de tu vida. En todo. (Happy first day of the rest of your life. Entirely.)
