Guess this is how it's going to be. Just sweating my through November, December, January and February. Someone better get me to the beach, soon. Or near some large body of water I can submerge myself.
I'm 24 now. Thank god my ovaries aren't putting up a fight, yet. So at this point I could take the road that leads me to wedding bands. shiny new homes. attractive husbands. happy pregnant bellys. crying babies. and boring marriage sex. Given that all of those things give me an anxiety attack...Instead why not choose this way: living in south america. barely scraping by on rent. drooling over attractive husbands. drinking wine. staying up all night. and no having comment on the sex subject.
My students have to take grammar tests this week. So lame. I actually feel bad for them. Mostly because I'm a horrible English teacher. Also, because it comes without any warning. Yesterday, I had to tell my majorly stressed student...."Surprise! We're taking a test today!" Of course, the one time I was actually being serious and not sarcastic, sarcasm was somehow translated.
I suppose I'll be silently sweating throughout this post. Oh, god. What am I going to do a summer without air-conditioner? I suppose I'll just adapt another Argentine bad habit and become an avid complainer of the weather....wait. everyone always complains about the weather. No matter where you go. Weather. You're always allowed to complain about it. Because it's the best empty-space-filler subject there is. It's always around and even stupid people can have something to say about it.
I accidentally found myself in an Argentine fire drill simulation today. Of course, my first thought, as with all with fire simulations, is always, if this were a real fire we'd all be dead, bitches.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I had to explain to a few of my students exactly what Thanksgiving is. Have you ever actually tried to explain Thanksgiving to someone who didn't know what it is? It's impossible. You always en up explaining so stupid fairytale story about Pilgrams and Indians. No wonder everyone things our country is a joke sometimes. It comes out sounding like the most ridiculous thing ever. But I explain the best part of it: Food. Booze. More food. Macy's parade. Football. All to be followed by more food, this time in the form of a sandwich.
Obviously I won't be home for Thanksgiving, but some friends of my from the States are throwing ourselves a nice Argentine style one. Whole chicken is the best one can do. I'm pretty sure I'll simply have to do without stuffing this year. What a real pity. A F***ING pity. WHY ARGENTINA? WHY? I just want bread crumbs, cranberries, chicken broth and stove top to exist for ONE DAY. I'm too upset about this. It's only food. But it's stuffing.