Oh man, I have been bad bad bad....I started going on excersions to different parts of the city a couple of weeks ago, the first was to Boedo. I have been maintaining these excursions but haven´t been writing about them...so we are going to play a little game of "catch up". Let´s flip back some pages in my journal to.... 07.10.06 Yesterday was Independence Day here in Argentina. There were no fireworks, no hot dogs (except for the street vendors who sell them everyday), no cheap beer, no lush green grass, and CERTAINLY no red, white, and blue desserts with cool [View Full Entry]

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Oink oink piggy piggy. Moo moo cow cow....but what sound does a chinchilla make? Last Saturday I got up early and stepped outside donning a rediculously large pair of sunglasses, a touch of makeup, and a winter coat. Where was I going? La Rural of course...it was the last weekend of the country fair. I like talkin "animal" and so I thought what better way to spend a day then conversing with some wooly sheep in coats, long horned bulls and of course a fuzzy little llama. The country fair was in many ways just like any country fair in The [View Full Entry]

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Overall I consider myself an optimist. Well, it´s true, I dont think there is much future for our country, and its also true that I don´t believe in love in a traditional context. I will also say "bullshit" if I feel your apology is just that. But yeah, over all I am an optimist and while I did have my expiramental phase into the land of cynacism in the early years of my life I feel I came out of it pretty much unscathed. There have been many occasions here in Buenos Aires where I feel like I am in situations [View Full Entry]

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July 1st 2006 Earlier in the week I had a dream. I don´t remember the dream, just a name, Boedo. Boedo is a barrio in Buenos Aires and I saw this as a sign. And so I did what all books, movies and art tell you to do. I followed my bread. Boarding the #126 bus until I arrived on Avenida Boedo. I wonder, do many people have dreams that they follow? Concious dreams, yes. But what about subconcious dreams...the ones you do at night. How many people act on that? Is it truely a good thing to act on these [View Full Entry]

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Sunday before last I went to Tierra Santa a Christian theme park. I can´t describe it better then the pictures....so feast your eyes. [View Full Entry]

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It is almost 9pm and I am sitting here trying to get dry after being caught, unprepared, in a lovely winter thunderstorm. It is 9pm and I am suffering from a coffee hangover due to too much consumption of the thick hot stuff that has turned into the most important part of my diet It is 9pm and I am sitting here thinking about dinner...should it be chocolate with havelnuts, everything bagels or Kraft Mac and Cheese (the spiral kind)? For anyone who has tried in vain to purchase these items here in Buenos Aires you know that you are going [View Full Entry]

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Ok. I have been in my house almost a month. Things are getting comfortable. I have lots of windows in my apartment and they all open out to look at amazing things. I can look out them for hours. My apartment is located in Monserrat, two blocks from San Telmo. I am closer to bars and clubs so there are more people out at night...therefor I feel safer. I am lacking all of the veggie stands, meat stores, bakeries, etc. What I do have are lots of stencils to look at, an AMAZING bakery (I told F2 about the bread from [View Full Entry]

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polka dotted dresses. fernet and coke at 2 am. dancing at hip hop clubs. the human trumpet. dulce de leche on EVERTHING. the worlds largest alfajore (cookie sandwich with caramel in the center).....no wait....who you callin an alfa whore? finding radical bookstores where maybe i cant read what they say but they whisper promise just the same. throwing open the shutters to feel the sunshine in the morning. a whole week of potato leek soup. standing by big piles of dog poo and warning everyone who walks by to "WATCH OUT!" cheap wine at 2 am. cheap wine at 2 pm. [View Full Entry]

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I love this country because when I am sick I get to be a hobo. I get to drink tea with lots of honey and carry around a small flask of "Old Smuggler" whisky and when no one is looking (even when I am alone in my apartment I check to make sure no one is looking...mainly for the effect) I splash in a big little splash of whisky. It is for my throat and cough. Everyone tells me to do this...from commercials on tv to my new Argentine mother Ana Bruno who stands at about my breast level. Maybe I [View Full Entry]

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And now it is 4am and Erica has just left in a shared taxi with the people who were living in my apartment. One of the last things she whispered with her face pressed to mine was "I don´t want to sit in the back of the car with their poopy suitcases" (they had drug their suitcases through big piles of poo.) I have only walked around a little, here in the apartment, since her departure. And already I am finding her. The stencil she made, yellow spray paint, her handwritting scribbled on bits of paper. I tried to thank her [View Full Entry]

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