Second Block Edition: Tales from Miami Ad School Account Planning Bootcamp. Location: Minneapolis, MN.



I just got accepted into the Miami Ad School Account Planning Bootcamp. I'll toast to that. even eat a damn empanada.
So, if anyone knows anything about Minneapolis, MN feel free to tell me.



So, by Tuesday I had already eaten empandas for two meals. in one day. I also threw some fugazetta and cured ham in there. Gave it a full on bad-eating week. I've got things on my mind. Mostly unimportant things that will weave themselves out of my life sooner than later. Some which will and cannot weave, nor would I ever dream it. And then sometimes I just think about things like not having to put my mattress on the floor anymore so I don't wake up with paralyzing back pain. Or never having my coffee taste just right because I'm forced to by pre-ground beans and strain my coffee by hand through a filter. Then there's the unmistakable news from Miami Ad School. Still waiting.
But the good news is, my coffee cup has resurfaced. yes. victory.

Really I'm just killing time because as odds have it I've been spending too much time around my inbox. But now I must go and earn an embarrassingly low amount of salary teaching adults English. Or rather, pretending to give a shit for an hour about something other than my personal life.



playing the field.

Little things in our apartment keep disappearing. Not things that are mine, but things I like to use. When I drink my coffee in the morning I like to use a certain coffee cup. Not only does it help me feel grounded in my morning injection of caffeine but it's slightly bigger than all the other mugs. And a few ago it just disappeared. I have a theory that P-diddy (fourth wheel roommate) confiscated it and put it on a fancy shelf in his Palermo apartment of a bedroom...along with the griller that I loved to cook my meat on. He's a mystery, that one. Although, he did give me a chance to hold over 10,000 pesos in my bare hands. my bear hands.

Tonight, I treated myself to some alone time. An activity, I realized, that I haven't participated much in lately, except the time I spend on Fugi, which isn't really alone time. One of the museums was featuring silent films accompanied with live music. El gabinete del Dr. Caligari (1920). It was really interesting, even though I had to read the script in Spanish for an hour. I may or may not have shut my eyes for an extended period of time lasting more than 2 minutes. The music was telling the story for me anyways, so I didn't miss much.

This week I'm going to try and not eat as many damn empanadas as I did last week. Maybe just two meals out of the week instead of four. But it's not my fault everyone loves to make them. and that our [h]oven was fixed in our apartment and I wanted an excuse to use it. and that there was a concert in Recoleta, and everyone knows you can't go to Recoleta without eating empanadas at Sanjaunino. that's just a crime. Those blue cheese empanadas have nuts in them, and the guy at the counter always gives me extra and tells me things like, "well, for you we have that kinda today." but in Spanish, so it's sexier. obviously.

So many things are just sexier when they're said in Spanish.

I find out this week if I'm accepted into the Miami Ad School program. I haven't decided if I'm going to obsessively check my emails or if I'll make every excuse not to be around computers this week. I'm predicting that the former is much more likely to occur than the later. I just hope I'm not rejected over that one tiny little spelling error in my video that was pointed out by my non-native English speaking friend and overlooked by all the other natives that watched it. including myself. oh god.



reading material.

It was a strange Sunday on the subte. First, there was a man was dancing barefoot on a cardboard box while balancing a suitcase full of clothes on his head. Later there was a dude with a crazy make-shift boom-box who wore old rags and mesh bags on his head while break dancing and doign head spins. Not to mention, the woman selling dual flash light/lighter contraptions. It was a shame that I was alone in all of these happenings, all I wanted to do was snicker and make some comment about these crazy dudes. And even if I had something clever today it wouldn't come out the same in Spanish. sigh. general language barrier frustrations.

Sietske (roommate) and I have been parading the city buying shit this weekend. She's good though, she won't let me buy any purses, but she has no restrictions for the amount of hair crap I want buy. Since my shoe size is impossible to find in any of the stores, I drool and support her in her purchases of gorgeous boots. But, I have an amazing pair of boots on the way that I had an artisan custom make for me. And in return for me using Sietske for her Spanish skills she uses me for my room/closet with a door. That's what roommates are for. That's what friends are for, too.

With only five weeks left I've been mentally preparing for my return home. My mind takes a few minutes to wrap itself around the idea. I haven't been living on Mars or gone for 20 years, but I have made a few self-changes and discoveries. Like now I know how to live without a microwave and brew coffee without a machine. Some of these I know will fit into my life at home perfectly and others will need some adjustments. Like driving a car a distance that I normally would just walk in the city. Then there are just things I miss. Like my tiger and lion necklaces, bunny earrings, and my other large obnoxious accessories I used to wear. My Saturday's revolt of going out and purchasing red nail polish is just my body's way of saying...we know you want to put on some new clothes, but you're going to have to wait a few weeks to leave the land of crap materials. But now my finger nails are all pretty and I have a pink flower for my hair. and a yellow/orange one. and a black one. and maroon one. Life is good.



Tax Day.

It's Tax Day in the US. But when I woke up this morning it was April 15, 2010, raining and cold in Argentina. And I thought, tax day was April 16. Of course I hadn't filed my taxes yet, I'm in Argentina I get an excuse to be lazy and late for everything. But lucky for me I have one fantastic Mom who knows how to use a scanner. So I thought I could escape taxes...but technology always finds you way to do something, doesn't it? And next year I'm sure the IRS would love for me to explain the year gap in my employment as "working illegally in Buenos Aires." How do you claim sketchy Western Union errands I make for my roommate, where I get to hold 10 thousand pesos in mis manos for about 2 minutes? I'm sure that's non-taxable.

Miami Ad School has informed me that they have all of my application information. Well. This is it people. Now we wait. Until this I must twiddle my thumbs. toes. legs. anything that moves and displays my sever anticipation to know. Then I must figure out one thing. How the hell am I going to pay for this? And what the hell is in Minnesota?

So today I didn't prepare for my classes. Surprise surprise. But the thing is my institute just added three new students to an existing student I already had. Which is already quite awkward since we had already built a nice one:one classroom environment. Let's be honest, with one student I can pretend to teach, I've gotten away with it for almost a year now and it seems to be working out quite well. But four students? You can't hide bad teaching skills with friendly conversation. There just 'aint no where to go. So what do I do? Pretend to have a thought out lesson plan and somehow get my students talking about foreign immigrants from Peru and Bolivia in Argentina that are taking all of their "dirty jobs." Obviously.

My goal lately has been to see how awkward I can make a situation before some shuts it down. Or someone just ends it by kissing someone else. now, that's what I call locking it up.

Tomorrow I joyfully get to go to my internship where everyone is generously spreading a cold around the office. In a one roomed office of 10 people you would think someone would say, "Mira, tienes que ir a tu casa." But, no. This Argentina and everyone shares everything. Even there mate when they're sick. Dudes. You wonder why Gripe A [swine flu] is so out of control in winter. Exhibit A. Next, we'll tackle hand washing.



Si pero No.

How are you my eight readers? The demands for better posts was just too much, I had to meet demands. Plus, I missed you, Blog. It's nice to write about other things besides fixed questions for an application. Like how amazing my rainy afternoon nap was. And scrapping the last of the peanut butter from the jar Meg left me. And how I'm really confused what to fill my free time with now that I don't have an application to avoid working on.

It's been brought to my attention that I only have six weeks left here in this wonderful country. Yes, I just said Argentina was wonderful. For all its ridiculous and obnoxious things I love to complain about, I adore it for everything it has been to me. Even if I had to jump over the urine from the homeless man laying in the street peeing last night. Even if.

Also there are some pretty great things just getting started in my life. pretty great things, I say.
Yesterday, my internship had me making phone calls to the US. Simple task. Of course the man on the other online was confused when I responded to questions with Si, por favor. I never thought it would be so confusing to speak English. I guess I have my niches where I speak it. And one of them for the last year has not been cold calling strangers.

So now the next few weeks I will be worried about my application. I will have to find distractions. As someone brilliant I know says, "Distractions are the spices of life."


leaves are falling

The date from last entry is spaced out further than normal. At this point, to get on the computer and do anything else besides work on my application I just feel guilty. So this is really just an update to let you know that I am alive, and no my application is not finished.
But. I did help bring Meg's 24th Birthday in style. I also went to Uruguay last week and rode a bike around the beach-side. Had a wonderful asado with an Argentine family on Easter. "Un"celebrated the departure of Meg, also in style. And now I'm here. In my apartment slaving away at this damn application.

Write again soon when I'm not so bitter.

I better get accepted into this school, that's all I'm saying.