I'm definitely slipping away from American culture. Except for the dedication I maintain to watching downloaded episodes of 30 Rock and Mad Men. When Anna and Lindsey were here I had them school me on deaths, pregnancies, cheaters, and new found celebrity crack-whores. But it's difficult to stay updated on music here. So in order to get my crack-fix on new music I will be tuning into coolhunting's suggested playlist. Even though it's northern hemisphere biased with a "Fall Playlist" I will take it. I also suggest it.
Es noviembre. Que barbaro! Based on the rotation of the earth it makes sense that we're going into Spring, but I think my brain is a little confused. Last night was Halloween. And although I spotted only a few foolishy dressed-up foreigners in Halloween costumes it was strange to think that it came and went with-out a celebration. Although it's not my favorite holiday, it was the first time I've never dressed up. But let's focus on more important things. It's that time of the year for me to add another digit. And while your 20s are supposed to be some of the hardest times in your life, I'm having a pretty damn good time. I couldn't be more ecstatic. I've had a good feeling about 24 for some time now. It's gonna be good. And thanks to latitude and longitude I will have, for the first time in my life, a Spring birthday.
I'm just going to come out and say it because there's no way to paddle around this. I ate at Burger King. I know. I know. But first of all, it's not Burger King, it's Booger Keeng. You have to make sure you put the Spanish accent on the vowels because it makes soooo much better. Allow me to explain my presence and consumption at this fast-food American haaambooger restaurant. First of all, I went with two Argentines and I was forced. Well, not really forced. But it does make my resistance to globalism seem more apparent. On Friday, a friend of mine, Gus, invited me to see The Prodigy with his friend. After a concert him and his friend have a tradition of going to none-other than Booger Keeng. I find it rather ironic that my first time eating at an American fast-food restaurant is by the hands of two Argentines and their tradition. Of course you have to ask for ketchup and pepper doesn't exist. But there was fake yellow cheese! Oh, the wonders of fake yellow cheese. See, there's nothing more American than a 4-inch square of mysterious-bright- colored-plastic-looking cheese. In case you were wondering, yes, I King sized it.
So let's slide back. Circa 1995. Yes, I went and saw The Prodigy. My first time at an Argentine concert. Oh, Argentina and your music festivals. Argentine sing-alongs. Now that's entertainment. Lyrics are misunderstood and somehow, somehow there always one too many jaaa jaaa's in there. It was good fun. Of course, one of the vocalist was an embarrassment to himself, which is always entertaining. Most overused phrases of the night by singer Maxim Reality, (notice the all caps for effect) "WHERE ARE MY PEOPLE AT? WHERE ARE ALL MY ARGENTINE PEOPLE AT? WHERE ARE ALL MY WARRIORS AT? WHAT GOING ON BUENOS AAAIIIREEZ???" So what I wanna know is what's up with the 20 questions, Maxim? And why do you wanna know so badly where everyone is. Clearly the people you want are all hear listening to your dumb ass. So why don't we just shut up and smack my bitch up.
Given that I didn't arrive home until 7am this morning (a friend and I found some good regaeton beats to dance to) I've had little motivation to do much today, except clear my fridge of blue cheese and bread. I love sunday. My weekends are becoming more and more valuable. Since I work five days a week and have 8am classes four days a week I'm feeling less guilty about spending a day lounging around in my bed. Just me, my stuffed dinosaur, my computer, my book and my bed. Yeah.