The Dictionary with Aloe

Jeeeeeeellly?

2007-07-16T09:34:00.001-06:00

The other day it rained, and this was the view of the Andes from the balcony of my apartment...

Blog love/New things/Babies redux/metric system redux

2007-07-16T09:12:00.000-06:00

Well, well, hello. Hello there land of the blog-readers oh so eager to hear from me again. I know it's been a while...quite a while...and I've got a lot to tell and lots of blogs coming up now that I am - how do you say... - reinspired. so let's get right down to it....

Lots of things have changed, namely my apartment (new downtown one with an awesome view and also a cousin in the adjacent room) and my job (social secretary to an Ambassador) and...my ipod, which is, of course, very important. I don't want to tell you that I now spend my days listening to music, answering the phone, confirming invitations and a myriad of other activities the Ambassador invents for me to do...but yeah it's pretty okay. Although, I have to say for the record, my boss is completely insane but this will all get detailed in time now that the blog has resurfaced.

Babies...

Yes, they are back, fortunately or unfortunately and to stay. They're adorable but sweet jesus, joseph and mary are they a handful. I'll tell you one Tia who will not be taking anyone to the zoo anytime soon. Although thankfully this time around I don't actually see them all that often. More stories on them coming up as well.

Here is a problem I realized recently I still can't get past:

So, I went to the doctor (I won't say which, but for purposes of this experiment it's relatively irrelevant) and the doctor of course asked all the usual questions doctors ask...medical history..?... I think that's it. Anyway, as part of all this questioning he asked me the most basic and simple of questions which led me to a very unfortunate (for both of us) ten minute explanation: "How tall are you?" I looked at him and stuttered a bit 'uh...umm...uh...it's that...uuhh,' and he kind of looked at me like 'Hmmm, that's weird because she doesn't look mildly retarded.'

Then I considered my three options. I can, 1. say 'I don't know' and look like an idiot, 2. say 'Oh, I can't tell you in meters' and look like a weird idiot, or 3. Give a ten minute explanation on how I grew up in the states and I've never actually been measured in meters and I'm so sorry but I think in feet and inches and then look less like an idiot and more like a douche. Guess which I chose. So, after my brief autobiography the doctor pulled out his calculator and figured out what my height would be in meters. You'd think that would have been a good time to memorize that number so that, should someone ever ask me my height again I'd be able to give it. But...not. I've been living here over a year and I still have no idea how to convert feet to meters or kilos to pounds or inches to centimeters. I'm thinking seriously about investing in a ruler, although that might be a little lo-tech for a homegirl.

Oh, bloggie, I'm so glad to be back.

Loves,

- E

my life is a zoo

2007-02-04T21:30:00.000-05:00

Today we took the twins (THE twins) to the zoo...

...

...

I'm dead.

...

I am not alive.

Also, I am never ever having children. And now I've printed it.

I'll stick to dog-bears instead.

(This is Pelusa. Love her.)

Thank you. goodnight.

- E

Twins. Death. Love.

2007-01-30T07:37:00.000-05:00

So, remember those two year old twins I posted in the last entry? Well, they have been visiting their grandmother for the last week here in Santiago and guess who has spent every free moment helping her aunt take care of them?...that's right, 'Tia Eugenia' who - sidebar - is an awesome pseudo-aunt.

Anyhoo, because of this fact I am generally exhausted and also my conversations have been pretty much reduced to the following token phrases:

'Don't hit your sister.'
'Don't kick the dog!'
'Come on, eat. Please eat.'
'Don't touch that.'
'You want me to sing to you in english?'
'Stop kicking the dog!'
'Please let your Tia rest for two minutes, for the love of god.'

As you can see, quite fullfilling. It's fun to go out with them in public because people assume they're mine and they give me that 'oh, look at that poor thing. she has twins. she looks tired as all hell' look. and then they give me their seat on the subway/bus which is always awesome. SO, long story short, I love babies I just really really don't want to have any of my own anytime soon, especially because even the smallest possibility of having twins makes me want to cry out in pain. Not physical, although I do have the bruises to prove babies are not all the balls of fluff and love they're made out to be. trust me.

this afternoon we will possibly take them to the zoo, which should be quite an adventure. i shall have the pictures to prove it. more on that after it does/does not happen.

In the meantime, let me tell you that I have discovered two things. One, that the problem with my computer speakers was that I needed to fix the balance in the volume control. Duh. Two, that MacCenter guy really really does love me. Yesterday we had this HILARIOUS email exchange which he, by the way, started that ended with him telling me if I ever need anything he could come over to look at my computer. ...Relax father, brother, mother, I have no intentions of having him come over to look at my computer... but I thought it worth sharing because he really does know infinitely more about me than I do about him. Creepy and yet somehow kind of sweet.

What else?....man, every muscle in my body hurts from playing with these babies and let me tell you that I seem to have 2 year old fever now because I spend ALL day singing children's songs in spanish in my head. This little number is their favorite, it's called 'Los Zapatos de Papa' (excuse the lack of accents. i can't even think to look at the volume control i certainly will not bother with figuring out accents on this keyboard):

Los zapatos de papa son grandes y pesados
Al andar sonando van boom boom boom
Los zapatos de mama tienen grandes tacos
al andar sonando van cli cli cli cli cla
Y los niños chicos
con piernas muy gorditas
corren tras papa y mama
tiki tiki tiki tiki ta

Oh, if you had the melody to that song right now you would hate me soooo much because you would never EVER get it out of your head.

And off I go to the land of the two year olds again.

Will go into exile soon...and start behaving like an adult again.

Loves(Baby loves),
- E

Personal Questions

2007-01-17T21:29:00.000-05:00

I have a few things to discuss and some pics!

So, I officialy have my computer back and it's almost the same but not quite. One, because it has inifinitely more memory now but also because one of the speakers isnt working. They were both working when I took it in and I'm not sure what the freak at the MacCenter was doing to my speakers, but I am pretty determined to find out by doing an awful lot of yelling and maybe a bit of cursing (possibly in both english and spanish).

Speaking of which, picking up the computer from the Apple hospital was really bizarre. First because one of the first things the guy who was handling the process asked me about a million personal questions including but not limited to:

"How is work?"
"I called you a bunch of times. How come you didn't answer?"
"There's no one at home to pick up the phone when you're not there?"

So now here are some of the things he knows about me:

- I teach english
- What part of town I live in
- That I live alone
- That work is slow this time of year
- My house and cell phone number
- That I went on vacation recently
- What kind of music I listen to

This is what I know about him:

- His name is Luis

I'll be surprised if he doesn't show up at my doorstep in a couple of days with replicas of the both of us dressed exactly the same.

He also made this comment that made me really uncomfortable while I was checking to see if all my pictures were recovered. He said (and I quote) "Oh ALL of the pictures are there. I looked through all of then and made sure they were all there." After that was when he said something about me having gone on vacation.

Yep, that's right. I have no further comment on the topic. I'm looking forward to submitting myself to another round of interrogation when I go bitch about my speaker.

Yay.

Let's backtrack now.

I spent Christmas in a cabin in the south with three cousins, a wife and SEVEN children. Precious, precious things that they are. I'll share some pictures for you to love and admire and if I didn't say it before, Happy New Year!

Here is a view from the bathroom window I took during the crossing from the continent to the island of Chiloe:

My cousin's twin two-year olds and I:

And just for shits and giggles, here are some salmon jumping around in a salmon cage at the salmonry (?) (Salmon are gross):

new years/computer hospital/text messages

2007-01-14T12:31:00.000-05:00

So, this is the new year.
And I don't feel any different.

Or do I?

I kind of do.

One of my theoretical new year's resolus was to try and blog everyday. How quickly did that go to shit? Pretty damn quickly. Which leads me to the next topic...

My computer crashed. It's terrible and flirting with the guy at the MacCenter has done nothing to help my case. Basically, the hard drive needs to be replaced and I've been having laptop withdrawl for about a week and a half now and also I'm certainly not looking forward to the money withdrawl I will be experiencing when I go pick up my baby tomorrow. Sadness, I know. Although on the plus side the MacCenter guy is kind of adorable and I will likely recuperate most of my information AND (big plus) my new hard drive is 80G - my old one was only 30. So....yay? Kind of. I pretended to almost cry when I went to drop it off at the service center and, well, we all know I don't cry so this was an effort for me. But, to my dismay, I didn't manage to get much of a discount.

Tomorrow (I hope) I will be back to the world of the connected and I will try and live up to my already destroyed new year's resolu (are you digging my abreviation of the word resolution? or should I give it up immediately...comments/questions?)

On to the good stuff.

I do this really amazing thing that I've never written about before but after last night's adventures I feel that it deserves attention. You know those people who drunk dial/text message all the time? I have this very effective system that keeps me from doing those kinds of things. It takes a hell of a lot of will power but, damn it, it's worthwhile. So, if I have an urge to call or text message or email anyone after the hour of midnight I will write an email or text message to this person saying whatever it is I think is important and then I will say to myself 'Okay, tomorrow when I wake up, if I still feel this is important enough to say I will send it.' In this way I don't lose what I, at the moment, think is a significant thought and said person does not need to receive incoherent messages from me very late at night. Everyone wins.

This means I have some really hilarious messages saved that I never sent.

Examples...

'What you doin'? - abby' - this is a message to someone from abby while she was here...from my phone...keeep in mind this person does not speak english

'you're a disrespectful jerk. bye.' - moment of enlightment

you get the idea.

Anyhoo, last night I lost the battle. I was out with a friend of mine and while she was busy with other things I was trying to look busy by playing with my phone and, damn it, I sent some text messages. I also wrote a text message to myself which I then saved of some thoughts I had while watching my friend to make sure she was okay. Let me share...

'I'm a bad bad influence. Shit. I'm a bad person.' - my thoughts to myself. It took me about 30 minutes to type out the word ' shit'. awesome.

(I'm sure Abby won't mind me sharing a piece of the message I sent to her)

' I got your lip gloss. Wearing it now. Thanks so much. Can't wait to get back to nyc. Hate boys.' - I believe that last part was quite subtle and poetic.

Long story short (·insert colon here I can't figure out where it is )I may have destroyed lives last night. I'm a bad influence. Lip gloss is awesome. Boys are generally hated by me on Saturday nights. My system of embarrassment avoidal has failed miserably. I'm funny/slightly insane.

Missed me, huh?

Loves,

- E

Batteries

2006-12-20T20:46:00.000-05:00

I need a new battery for my digital camera. This has caused me much anguish in the last month or so for two reasons:

1. You can't find a CR-V3 (which kevin pointed out sounds like C3PO) anywhere in this city.
2. No one understands how difficult it is to find this damn thing and most of the time my 'I can't find a battery for my camera' comment is followed by 'Why don't you just charge it?' As if if I had the option to recharge I'd be looking for a damn battery. Are you people really that dumb?! Bejebus!

So, the other day I went to this store that FINALLY had this ridiculous CR-V3 battery, which I'm still convinced is just two double A's batteries attached by a very flimsly little piece material. Anyway, the battery costs 18,000 pesos, which is roughly 36 dollars. 36! Dollars! Needless to say this price seemed a little bit, oh, excessive, and I considered storming out immediately yelling things in French and kicking babies. But then I saw they had a relatively reasonable alternative: a rechargable CR-V3. This might be something, I thought. So I had the guy bring one out and test it to make sure it works and all that jazz. And, of course, the thing didnt work. Lights were blinking and it looked like things were happening but really there was nothing except the guy from the store fiddling with some kind of screwdrivers, some little machine with numbers and this idiot battery charger that couldn't have charged Whitney Houston's ass on crack. So, he tried to tell me it doesn't work because it's 'too new.' I, in turn, gave him my very famous 'do i look THAT stupid to you, because fine i would have totally still bought this thing if you had just told me it works but now that you said that i know you're full of shit' look.

He was prompted to order up another charger to test, cocky in his feeling that the next one would either work or he'd pretend it did and sell it to me anyway. I was prompted to pick up the little paper with instructions (in english!) that came with the charger and read it. When the next charger came out — after I had already been at this store watching this guy fiddle for a charger for 25 minutes — it, again, failed to even pretend like it was charging. I then had the following conversation with the sales guy:

Me: "The light is supposed to be red when it's charging."
Sales guy: "No, no, it's charging now."
Me: "No, it has to be red when it's charging. This one is just blinking green like the other one was. That means that it's ready to charge but not that it's charging."
Sales guy: "No."
Me: "How are YOU going to tell ME how the thing works!" [pulling out little paper with instructions] "The paper that came WITH the charger says it has to be red! You can't tell me how it works, it says it right here! That light is not red"
Sales guy's friend: "Haha, you have to learn english"
Me: [cocky smile] "well, I mean that's what the paper says. See here where it says 'red'" [pointing to the word 'red' on the paper] "that says that the light has to be red. Red. Not green. I'm not going to buy some thing that doesn't work. I may as well just throw my money at you."

Suffice it to say I left that store feeling pretty awesome and knowledgeable for...well, basically for speaking english and being able to follow simple directions and sales guy felt pretty damn crunchy.

I hate sales people and love english now. Also, my mom is sending me two (!) CR-V3 batteries that she paid 15 dollars for. So, take that city of Santiago with your overpriced batteries. (Thanks mom!)

Suckers.

- E

p.s. I saw at least three really, really bratty children today that made me geniunely thank the lord for the horrible cramps I get once a month, 'cause you know if I had a kid he/she would be the world's most hyper-active spoiled terrible thing on the planet. And I'd definitely have to consider (i said consider!) accidentally driving away while he/she is peeing at a gas station - one that's very far away from home and from where our path cannot be tracked, naturally.

I lika da sodah

2006-12-14T09:11:00.000-05:00

Since I arrived in Chile, there are two things that have continuously made me feel - how should I say this - mentally deficient. (Is that how you spell deficient? see what I mean...)

The first relates to the following excerpt from an email I received from my father (do you love that I'm publishing these things, father?):

'Jei Dóter: Aim sorri zat llu ar sic.'

Now, take a moment to process that, if you can.

...

Anything?

....

No? Well, you would be right about where I was when I received this email if you have no idea what the hell that says. I thought, German?...Hmmm, no that would be weird. But then again...well, it is my father.

But no. Get this - my father was trying to write out this:'Hey Daughter: I'm sorry that you are sick,' except he was trying to write it phonetically as someone who speaks english with a spanish accent.

Clever huh? .....yeah....hmmm...

Anyway, how does this relate to me feeling mentally inferior, you ask? Well, it's because of this: Whenever I use a random english word during a conversation in spanish I have to pronounce it as though I were speaking english with a very thick spanish accent. Otherwise people will just not understand what the hell I just said. Have you ever had a situation where not pronouncing something correctly causes misunderstandings? It's really very very bizarre. But, the thing is that I relax on this matter when I am with people that I know speak some english or will understand. Cut to last weekend when I was with a group of cultured folk some of whom speak english. Imagine us having a conversation about dried, salted meat. Imagine me saying 'Oh! Beef Jerkey!' and then imagine three people repeating the words 'beef jerkey' in a mocking tone trying to imitate the way I say it. Have you ever been in a situation where you felt like a douche for saying things PROPERLY? I don't know if my brain can handle much more of this backwards world.

That's the first thing. The second thing deals with my inherent lack of ability to maintain some kind of balance while I walk. Or, you know, the fact that I fall. A lot.

In the US when you fall you know how people do that thing where they look at you and for a split second they're maybe concerned but then once you hit the floor they're already giggling at your dumbass? I find that comforting. Here, people are actually concerned. Mostly the men because they have to be all chivalrous and help you up and all that shit when what you really wanna do is stand up and walk away like it never happened. But they, meanwhile, wanna have a conversation about whether or not you're okay and how, hey that last step is a doozy.

When my cousin got married (the legal civil ceremony not the church one) I was wearing these pants with cuffs and these heels and I always have this issue with the heel getting trapped in the pants and whatnot. I should probably be more cautious, considering, but alas. Anyway, I was walking down these stairs and right as I was about the reach the end of them my heel gets stuck and I trip and fall down like three steps right into this lovely little mud puddle type thing. I knew that it was bad because when I finally looked up like eight people had stopped in their tracks to look at me and they had an oh-my-god-that-girl-is-definitely-dead expression on their faces. I was actually fine but then I had to have a conversation with the guy who sells juice about how my pants were dirty with mud. At least twice I day I do that little trip thing where you kind of go forward like you're about to start jogging but then catch your balance again. At least twice a day some guy on the street catches my arm like he's the hero of the century that keeps me from falling. Then we have that awkward like 'hee hee thanks...I was just um...waaaahhhh!' and then I cry and run away. I think it's the crying that makes it awkward. Also, the fact that I cannot seem to keep my balance for longer than 10 minutes. It's probably because while I walk I am trying to figure out how I should be saying 'Sprite' so that people understand me when I ask for one.

Espriii?

Eh-sprite?

eh-sprithe?

It's a hard-knock life.

- E

Blogger is totally stalking me and also THE BIG EVENT OF THE YEAR

2006-12-06T21:40:00.000-05:00

So, two things about my profile:

One, blogger totally updated my age automatically which is at the same time odd and kind of disturbing. What's the deal, yo?
Two, I updated my profile (at right) and I'm awesome so go look at it. I mention sporks twice, need I say more?

Okay, anyhoo, so my cousin's now infamous wedding came and went and shockingly no one died or lost a limb, which is nice. It was all wedding-like and my dress was red and, as it turns out, none but one of my cousins took a date to the wedding — even the ones in relationships. So, you can imagine how thankful Eugenia was that she also went to the wedding alone and that now that's it's over she can go back to refering to herself in the third person and not worrying about things like dresses and shoes and hair and all that girly wedding crap. God, I'm such a dude. Anyway, possibly the wedding can best be explained through pictures (which of course my family would be horrified to know I am posting in the internet). I'll do my best to narrate but, as weddings go, this one was pretty unfunny and also romantic and shit and who wants to see that on this blog? Certainly not me. On a side note, I did get a little bit of Oh-god-I-wanna-get-married-and-why-is-my-life-miserable-and-why-do-I-attract-freaks-or-married-men water in my eyes, but no crying thank god cause that would have been embarassing.

Anyway, the wedding: a photo essay

No one cares about the church ceremony so we'll skip right to the partaaaaaay

Here are the bride and groom making their grand sunny entrance. Would you believe me if I said this picture was taken at like 8pm?

Here is the groom and his twin sister partying it up. Ask me how many rum and cokes I had had when I took this picture. Ask me. I totally won't answer you but, let me tell you, the dancing was awesome at this point.

Here is a picture of my cousin Javier and I where Javier actually looks kinda normal...and I just now realized how not interesting these pictures must be to you...so...um...this is it.

Now, on that note, I'll leave you with a list of things that The Flaming Lips "Do You Realize?" says we should realize so you can think about them the same way I do when I'm riding the bus all philosophical-like and listening to this song.

- that you have the most beautiful face
- that we're floating in space
- that happiness makes you cry
- that everyone you know someday will die
- that the sun doesn't go down - it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning 'round
- that life goes fast
- that it's hard to make the good things last

deep huh? That's what my bus rides are like these days.

Goodtimes.com,
- E

Guess Who´s Back...Back Again...

2006-12-05T15:39:00.000-05:00

So, I haven't posted in forever because I've had a bit of writer's block and I whined about it a lot and put off posting because I can and blah blah blah blah...

Today I saw this really ugly baby on the subway and I got inspired. Not because I am inspired by really ugly babies (except for being inspired to not have babies) but because this baby was so ugly I had to take out a notebook to doodle on while I rode the subway because the damn thing just kept looking at me and it was freaking me out. And I realized I always do this ridiculous thing. Whenever I have to wait somewhere or I am trying to look busy, I will take out a piece of paper and write down random things as though these things were important information that I HAVE to write down at that very moment. Most of these things end up being song lyrics to whatever song happens to be in my head at the time but sometimes I start writing down random things that people say or, more often than not, random thoughts that I have. So, today on the subway when I looked down at my notebook I found a piece of paper from the other day with the following little gems on it:

'Come to Tazmania'
'There are a lot of hot guys working at the bank'
'oh no you di-in't'
'I'm definitely wearing flip-flops'
'2,800 millones'
'oh my god, i'm tired'
'i'm terrible at video games'

That's just a sneak peek but see if you can follow my thought process there. Although don't hurt your brain trying to figure out how my brain jumps from the theme song to the Tazmanian Devil cartoons to hot guys at the bank. I'm sorry to say I can't explain that one. Also I write all of these in cursive because I see it as a good way to pratice my cursive writing and usually when it comes out kinda ugly or I mess it up I write the same sentence again so that it looks nice. For whom you might ask....and that would be a good question.

The mind is a terrible thing to explore.

Loves,
- E

Laughing Babies Are Awesome

2006-11-21T20:23:00.000-05:00

This is one of the most amazing things I have seen in a long time. I know I haven't written and blah blah everyone hates me and I promise to tell you all about the wedding soon, but in the meantime love me for sharing this with you...

Living Alone

2006-11-06T21:53:00.000-05:00

I've learned many things from living alone in this country.

One of those things is that, like it or not, when you live in a building with doormen they know everything that you do, when you do it, how you do it and who you did it with. It wouldn't surprise me at this point if these guys spent hours just talking about what time I leave, what time I get back and how often I use the bathroom. It's slightly flattering and also incredibly annoying. It's too bad for them I'm really not all that interesting.

Another thing is that when you live alone you have to do shit by yourself. When I was young sometimes I'd hear the toilet running late at night after I had just used the bathroom and it would really bother me to the point that I wouldn't be able to sleep and you know what I would do? I'd yell out "Mom! The toilet is running!" and guess who would get up and jiggle the handle? If you guessed me, you are sorely underestimating the extent of my sloth-like characteristics. Now, I have to do that shit myself. There's nothing worse than the realization that yelling "Mom, the toilet is running" will achieve nothing except a really high water bill this month. One that you have to pay. With the blood money you've earned.

There is a high probabilty that — considering all of the times that I've left the damn thing on all day and the fact that I have to turn it on manually (with a match! a lit match!) — if my gas water heater weren't outside of my apartment my apartment would have sooooo blown up by now like a million times. (I'm safe to live with.)

The two hour time difference that we now have with the US is driving me insane.

So tired,
- E

W.M.A.C.

2006-10-28T16:44:00.000-05:00

I'm reconnected! Yay! And just in time because I have some really important news to reveal.

Although deep down I knew it had to happen eventually, I didn't think it would spring up on me so soon into this adventure. I figured I'd have to sit through at least a few hundred more annoyances before I found it, but I have. I've dont it. It's over. The other day on the subway I finally came accross the worlds most annoying couple (W.M.A.C. for short). I've mentioned before this Chilean phenomenom of everyone being in a relationship and their intense love of public displays of affection, but these two really topped the cake.

During our brief subway ride (about 7 stops) they did all of the following things while sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME (this is not including the fact that they were both gross and I feel like I should make note of that):

- made out
- held hands
- carressed various body parts
- laid in each others laps
- played the 'i love you more' 'no, i love YOU more' game
- discussed their future together
- baby talked
- called each other 'baby'
- read to each other
- discussed their future children/apartment/life
- refused to sit in two seats not next to each other, therefore forcing my ass to move over and have to tolerate them next to me the whole ride

Is that enough, or shall I go on? I mean, can you think of anything worse than these two? Cause I'm finding it particularly difficult to do so. They seriously topped anything I could have pictured the W.M.A.C. to be.

Man, sometimes I hate people a lot.

Loves (annoyed loves),
- E
-

Lots of things

2006-10-20T11:47:00.000-05:00

I have a lot of things to tell but for lack of time they will be in list form.

Here goes...

- I have been an incredibly lazy blogger. I don't have any excuses except that I've been busy and blah blah blah blah blah...you don't wanna hear it.

- Chile's biggest export is copper. Copper is very valuable right now. This means people will go to great lengths to get their hands on some. This means they steal the goddamn electrical cables all the freaking time. Long story short, I have no phone or internet in my apartment until the phone company gets off its lazy ass to go and replace the stolen cables from in front of my building. These are the times that I am reminded I live in a third world country.

- The other day I had this really surreal experience. I was leaving this apartment building and I get into the elevator with this little girl (maybe 3 or 3 and a half years old) and her grandmother. The little girl looks up at me all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and says 'mama!' This was confusing for a lot of reasons. First, she was way to old to be confusing other people for her mother. Second, I was pretty sure I still didn't have any children. Third, um, what the hell? For a split second I imagined this whole ridiculous scenario. Like, I had been in a coma or something and I have amnesia and completely forgot that three years ago I gave birth to a child and there's probably a baby daddy around somewhere and oh...dear...god...what the hell am I going to do?! Thankfully, grandma quickly jumped to the rescue with 'no, that's not your mother.' Which raises the question, why does a normal looking three year old need someone to remind her that the girl that just walked onto the elevator is not her mother? Some mysteries shall simply remain so. On the bright side, I still do not have children. So, yay!

- The wedding is coming up and panic has set in all around. I swear my family wouldn't be this dramatic about it if I was getting married. My god. What a fiasco. On that note, I need to buy a fucking dress! And get a date! And buy the gift! Turn the panic mode switch on someone, please. Haha. Kidding. I am and will continue to be completely relaxed about it. Possibly. I hate weddings.

- Lately I've taken to thinking about all the things that I don't know how to say in Spanish that I might need to know how to say and it freaks me out that I don't. Like, it could be something simple like not knowing bank lingo but mostly I've been into panicking about health related issues. Like, what if I get athelete's foot. I don't know how to say athlete's foot in spanish! Or what if I desperately need some kind of neosporin type thing. I knwo they don't have neosporin here. How do I get some kind of neosporin-equivalent?! I don't even really know what the purpose of neosporin is. I just know I put it on things. This is a very serious situation because, realistically, ANYTHING could happen to me and when things happen for which I need to go to a pharmacy, communication is key. Last time I tried to get some kind of dayquil for a cold and I ended up with some insane pills that I swear to god must have been really strong doses of benedryl or something because I was dying. And this was the result of 'i need something for a cold'... 'we have this on sale. it's the same as - insert name of some Chilean medicine I've never heard of-' ..'um, sure ok.' Do you see the problem?! I cannot exist like this. I need to know things.

- People in this country really, really, really like 80s music. What do you all think about that? I'm still way too confused to have any concrete opinions.

Must get out of internet cafes and join the real world. I promise to write again soon.

Loves,
- E

Oh my god

2006-10-12T23:28:00.000-06:00

I've had this website written down in my notebook for about six months now and everytime I see it I say to myself, why on earth would I have written down this website in my notebook. And now, I know.

Yes, it's fantastic. Completely fantastic. See if you can't rummage around this place and find some incredible stuff. And Domo Kun to you sir.

(WHY is he so angry with the groundhog (?) !? We don't know! So good.)

The Day After

2006-10-10T09:02:00.000-06:00

Yesterday would have been John Lennon´s 66th(?) birthday. Some shit like that. You know why I don't know? Because it was my birthday bitches...and, well, usually I spend that day thinking about me. How does that make that different from any other day, you ask? Good question. Jerk.

Two years ago at this time I had written a short 'word on the street' for 34th Street about turning 22. Yesterday I remembered it because I thought, sweet jesus, joseph and mary that feels like it was about 8 billion years ago.

What is it about birthdays that makes one feel so utterly helpless? Possibly it's the fact that TIME PASSES AND YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. It's pretty stressful, although red bull and vodka certainly helps.

Anyway, I probably feel more 22 now than I did when I was 22, but something about 24 sounds so much older. I certainly don't feel 24, except sometimes when I do. Like, whe my students say 'how old are you, like 28?' Then I feel 24. Or 50. Either way. Point is, I've reached my - gasp - mid-20s technically and there are just soooo many things you can't get away with anymore in your mid-20s and this feels like it should be presenting a problem for me. It is.

Here's my dilemna in pretend logical terms...

Things I should be doing/not doing by now that I'm not doing/doing:

- something... with my life.
- having some sort of plan for something I should maybe do with my life.
- planning my wedding to my rich rich rich fiance that I'm going to marry asap before he gets away.
- avoiding weddings like the plague
- writing more
- making some effort to live more like a human and less like an animal
- getting over certain fears of certain things that I shouldn't be really afraid of even if they are kinda gross and not at all attractive (I'm making strides on this one)
- reading more
- reaching impossible levels of intelligence
- stop really disliking about 75% of the children I see/meet
- put my college degree to some use
- learn to speak english properly (this one is also moving along kinda nicely)
- update my blog regularly
- live in chile for a year.....oh ...wait...

Now sure there are plenty of other things I had hoped to be doing by 24, but those dreams were crushed long ago, thankfully. And sure there are probably millions of things I want to do before I turn 30 but I figure I have a good 5 years to continue procrastinating in that department. And really 24 isn't a milestone year at all.

If I'm being honest I've done a decent amount with my 24 years and, if nothing else, I can hold my alcohol pretty well and I'm pretty fucking clever sometimes and I totally live alone in a foreign country and I'm not completely repelling anymore and 24 is looking kinda promising on some weird, optimistic level.

Before I know it, 'I'm 24' will stop sounding really really weird and then...BOOM...25. And here we'll be again, lamenting the passing of time and hoping we can someday have a birthday where we look around and realize we live in an awesome city and have an awesome job and have a saint bernard because, fuck it, those dogs are adorable as all hell. and by 'we' i mean 'me' cause I don't really like any of you that much. (should 'me' have quotation marks there? prob not.)

So, happy birthday to me. or 'me.' And Sean Lennon, who also shares a birthday with me because I only share with the top dawgs yo.

(How great is the word 'yo'?)

Gettin´older,
- E

Fears

2006-10-01T21:21:00.000-06:00

Among the many fears that I already claim my own, I have added quite a few more since I have been in Chile . They include, but are not limited to, the following:

- fear of strange cheeks
- fear of gross people touching me on the subway
- fear of throwing up on public transportation
- fear of being trapped in an enclosed space with a couple
- fear of earthquakes
- fear of exploding water heaters
- fear of being held up at knife/gun point
- fear of running into random family members at the mall and/or at a bar
- fear of the cell phone comapny calling me
- fear of having to go within 50 feet of what they like to call 'hospitals'
- fear of the mall on a weekend at the end of the month
- fear of getting caught in protests and the inevitable clouds of tear gas
- fear of people who dress like clowns and ask for money on the bus

As of a few days ago I can now add 'fear of spiders' to that list.

The thing is, I've never really feared spiders, per se. I certainly don't find them adorable and cuddly and when, in the ninth grade on the first day of class, my biology teacher went around the room making random students hold a tarantula I did my best to make sure she didn't come anywhere near me because there was no way in hell I was about to hold that thing in my hand without throwing it and running out of the room screaming like a small, female child. But, I'm not one of those girls who is like 'eeeww a spider...i have to find a boy to kill it for me...hee hee.' No sir, that's not me. I kill my own spiders and I have no problems doing it cause frankly my space is not a human-spider communal space.

So, the other day I found this huge, gnarly spider crawling around near my bed. And that's when it started....

Wait, let me go back.

At some point early on in my Chilean adventure I had this conversation with one of my aunts about spiders. Apparently here in Chile we don't have any dangerously poisonous animals, except for this one spider. A spider which, it just so happens, is common in households everywhere. At first I thought she was kidding, so I laughed, naturally. And then she was like "no, I'm serious." This is while we were taking a table out of a really cobwebby part of the house...so, you can imagine...

Anyway,I didn't really think much of it until I saw a spider in my apartment and even then I didn't think much of it because I killed the sucker right away and didn't see another one and forgot. Then, when Abby was here I mentioned to her that if she sees one she should kill it right away because if it bites her it might be deadly and she freaked out a little and I pretended like it was no big deal and that they don't come into houses ever anyway (which is a boldfaced lie) when really what I wanted to do was hug her and be like "we might die! dear god, what do we do?"

Have any of you seen the movie Aracnophobia? That movie was a turning point in my young life and pretty much the reason I can't watch scary movies ever.

So, fast forward to a few days ago (last week) when I find this GIANT spider walking around near my bed. That's when it hits me, right? Like, if I hadn't seen it that thing could have crawled on my face during the night and I could be dead by morning. The thing is, I realized, I have no idea what these fuckers look like. So, after I killed it I did what any other normal person would do — I walked through the maze of crap that is my apartment, sat on my bed and googled the little suckers.

Image googled. "Araña del rincon."

This is what I found:

I FREAKED OUT because that's exactly what the splotch on my floor looked like, but then I realized the err of my ways because, quite honestly, that picture looks like every spider I've seen ever and HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IF A DEADLY THING WAS IN MY APARTMENT OR NOT?! So, I freaked out again. Then I got a paper towel and removed the evidence and immediately began cleaning my apartment because this one website said that was the best way to keep them out. So now I'm totally freaked out about spiders. I have nightmares about them crawling on my face while I'm asleep.

It's nice to know my list of fears really is neverending.

Ugh.

— E

Internal wake-up calls

2006-09-24T12:27:00.000-06:00

Because I work six days a week and therefore have to get up early six days a week the most dreadful thing has been happening to me. I've been waking up automatically on days off at 8am, as though my body is saying to me 'it's 8am! you're always up at this time! what's going on?' Now, I'm not saying I spring up out of bed at 8am. I don't think I've ever sprung out of bed in my life. I just mean at 8am, looking like a heavily sedated big foot I try to find my cell phone and discover the time is not 2pm like I thought. Then sometimes I go to the bathroom — with my eyes slightly closed so I don't wake up completely (thank god I'm not a boy), but not fully closed just to make sure I'm actually in the bathroom and not just dreaming about being in the bathroom, cause that could get ugly.

It's a terrible thing automatically waking up at 8am, and even though I immediately go back to sleep and, like today, wake up at 1:30, I still find it a bad habit. Although, I will say this: waking up at 8am on a Sunday and then realizing you can go back to sleep and sleep as long as you want is easily the most awesome realization in the world.

Oh god, and speaking of working a lot. Yesterday we had a bbq with all the people at work and my boss was talking about how it's important for people to keep their sex lives interesting and, fine, she was only doing it because one of my co-workers brought it up and she wanted all of us to think she was cool but, still....can I get a communal eeeeeeewwwwwww? Also, she kept mentioning her 'husband' and it's like sista, please, we all know you ain't married biatch. But other than that, she was actually kind of — dare I say this? — pleasant yesterday. Gasp. This, fortunately, does not mean I will stop putting a lot of effort into hating her.

- E

The Not List

2006-09-22T21:39:00.000-06:00

Here's a thing you should know about Chileans: we (yes, we) are all full of shit. Seriously, intensly full of shit. Millions of promises are made because it's what people think other people want to hear and nothing is done.

So, in honor of my people — and a vast and varied people we are — I present to you a list of things I plan on trying to NOT do while I am here. No false promises, just a whole lot of me not doing things.

— Pick the clothes up off the floor of my apartment. It's a matter of principle.
— Wash dishes before all of them run out. Only because I feel it might make my mom really, really happy if I did.
— Buy another thing of gas for my heater. Damn it, if I have to freeze to death I will but it's supposed to be spring.
— Go on a date with someone who calls me 'bebe.' This speaks for itself.
— Take a date to my cousin's wedding. Also a matter of principle and, you know, lack of resources.
— Accept any marriage proposals. I receive a plethera of them on a daily basis, in case you hadn't been paying attention.
— Make an effort to get along with my boss. Oh, if you knew her....
— Stop bitching about how I hate my boss. She seriously sucks.
— Stop making faces at my boss when her back is turned. Oh, if you knew her...
— Keep my books properly organized. Down with the system!
— Make out with someone on the subway. This is just gross. Everyone needs to stop. I can't express this sentiment enough.
— Put little hearts on a post-it, because as we've already established, it's just not my style. Or, is it?
— Say some really, really offensive shit about other humans really loudly on the subway. I don't wanna get into it because I'm still shocked, but one of my co-workers said this insanely offensive thing and I'm still trying to get over the fact that she exists.
— Start drinking rum regularly. This country is all ass-backwards. They should worship the rum cause it tastes like poo and drink the vodka cause it's delicious. (That's a reference to a Real World episode and if you can tell me which one and who said it, I'll give you a prize.)
— Start prefering peeled tomatoes to unpeeled ones. That's just weird and I won't have it.
— Get a mullet. A...mull...et...need I say more?
— Feel worse for homeless people than stray dogs. Those poor dogs. I mean, you'd have to see them. They're everywhere.
— Eat McDonald's again. Did it the other day and remembered why it's disgusting. I got a serious McTummy afterwards.
— Put someone else's email up on a public bathroom stall.......hahha NOT. I'm totally doing this one. Sucker.

I must say, that's a whole lot of nothing I'm doing, though. I'm really excited.

Any ideas for other must-not-dos?

Loves,
— E

Post-Independence or why I'm an awesome friend

2006-09-19T23:40:00.000-06:00

There are a lot of great things and, surprisingly, a good amount of terrible things about long holiday weekends. One of those terrible things is that now my sleeping schedule is out of whack and even though I know I'm going to want to die in 5 HOURS when I have to get up for work, right now I just can't sleep. Luckily for you that means I'm inspired to write some doo doo on this blog for you to read.

So, several things in no particular order that will probably make no sense to you. I'll try and number them for organizational purposes.

1. Independence day has come and gone and all I got out of it was an extra ten pounds in delicious meat and bread and things with onion in them. Mmmmm. I think I've eaten more in the last few days than in the last year combined. Hahahahaha....wait...Hahahaha...fine even I don't believe that one. But I did eat a lot and I had a full four day weekend, which was super duper awesome.

2. The whole eating thing would be really great if it wasn't for the fact that I was incessantly reminded that my cousin is getting married in a month and a half or so and, apparently, I have to look decent for this. In some sort of dress. Did I mention I am not the one getting married? Sometimes I have to remind myself.

3. Speaking of cousins and weddings I had this amazing alcohol-induced conversation with the future groom on Saturday that went something like this (translations are rough, specifically from memory, but I'll do my best):

Cousin: I'm really happy about everything. You know I'm really glad you're gonna be here for the wedding cause I feel like you're the representative for the family from the states.

Me: Um, yeah but [one of our aunts] will be here for the wedding so she can represent herself.

Cousin: [silence]... I mean I'm not dumb. I know that maybe....I mean that's why like I told you...you know maybe there's a guy or whatever that you maybe want to take to the wedding...that's why I asked if you were gonna bring someone...

Me: No, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna go alone.

Cousin: Yeah? Cause I mean you know, let's be honest, like you go out you have your own thing going on. maybe there's someone.

Me: You know [his sister] is the one who started all of this date thing. Why do I have to take a date? I mean, I didn't even want to take a date from the beginning. I assumed we wouldn't take dates. I can go alone. I mean, whatever.

Cousin: No, of course. So, you're sure?

Me: Well, I mean, like, if I don't tell you in the next two weeks then I'm definitely, DEFINITELY going alone.

4. I realized the day after the conversation that the reason he insinuated I'm a slut is because they thought I was going on a date — not the time I actually went on a date but a time that I was sort of supposed to go on something like a date that wasn't actually a date at all and never even happened. Anyway, word spread about the non-date that they never actually found out didn't actually happen and so they think I'm dating, which realistically, I'm totally not. Also, I'm definitely going alone.

5. I was in Limache (small town like 2 hours out of Santiago) with some of the family from my father's side and they got into this whole conversation about 9/11 and about how the tsunami was actually a meteor and how the government is keeping secerets. How it came about I'm not sure, but I've made the decision that I am going to be pleading the 5th when it comes to conversations about 9/11 because everyone in this country is ignorant and has zero understanding of what that event was like. Nothing more needs to be said here, except that after this conversation I took a three hour nap and missed a hell of a lot of conspiracy theories.

6. I've come to a lot of decisions about things I would like to NOT do while I am here. I'll blog about this later, cause I could go on for years.

7. Remember Tracy Chapman's "Fast Car"? Tracy Chapman is like a god here. Isn't that kind of weird? That was totally a good song, though. I heard it on the radio today and I was like "yeah man, this song rocks." Then I realized I never actually knew the lyrics to it and I did that thing where I mumbled until the chorus came up and then I sang really loud but still pretended like I totally know all the lyrics. Then I got home and googled the lyrics and tried to memorize them for next time. Good song.

8. HOW GOOD IS PRISON BREAK?! I swear I have a major anxiety attack everytime I watch it. Although, I'm not caught up yet so no one tell me what's happened. Wentworth looks INCREDIBLE in that cream suit. I mean, very appropriately named color, now that I think about it.

9. A few days before Abby left, we did this amazing thing. I mean, truly, genuinely amazing. Possibly the best thing we have ever done. I'll explain how it came about. Abby, noticing how much shit people write all over public places in this city said to me on several different occassions: "We should put someone's email address on this [bus, wall, floor, tree, you name it, she requested it]." Then one day, as an awesomely amazing surprise we were at this diner at like 6 in the morning (imagine how that happened and you'll understand why I did it) and I was in this restroom and I looked at the stall and I remembered that I had a sharpie in my purse and I said to myself, Eugenia this is your chance to do the most amazing thing you've ever done. And, I did it. I put Mark Kelly's email address on the bathroom stall. Except, I put it up there wrong. Thankfully, I told Abby about it right away ["OH MY GOD, bathroom! take a picture. for real. hahahahaha. amazing. Mark's email cause I had a sharpie. what was it? huh? oh my god, go take the picture. hurry up" - you get the idea]. Thankfully she kind of understood me and went to explore and made the neccessary corrections and, well, I won't keep you waiting any longer....

I can only hope he gets as much out of this as I have.

And watch out friends with email addresses because now that I have tasted victory I cannot stop.

Loves,

- E

Mulgrew.com

2006-09-12T21:06:00.000-06:00

Although I am putting this into my links on the side of this page, I have to post about this character I've stumbled across because he destroys my life regularly. I suppose I feel like I owe it to him to advertise his crap on here. Although, I don't know him so I don't really owe him shit. And also, he gets like a bazillion more hits then I do, so it's not like he needs the help. And, who the hell does he think he is acting like I owe him something anyway? Jackass.

Um, so check out Jason Mulgrew cause he's funny and also reminds me a little bit of Karl Pilkington which is just damn hilarious.

Gotta spread the love and the funny,

- E

Espresso! (What the hell is that?)

2006-09-12T20:48:00.000-06:00

Remember two posts ago when I mentioned this dumbass secretary had put litlle hearts on my post-it?...Well, scroll down and read it you lazy bastard. It's right there.

Anyhoo, this secretary is like the nightmare that doesn't end. Today she did the most ridiculous thing that, honestly, embarrasses me as a woman in the free world.

So, we started class, meaning two of my four students and I were in the conference room of this office and the door was closed because - as far as anyone outside of the conference room knew - we had started class. Class had started! Clear? Good...So, suddenly the door opens and homegirl walks in - in like a really inappapropriate-for-work skirt, might I add - with ONE coffee made especially for this student of mine knowing there were three of us in there. A coffee, mind you, that he DID NOT ask her for. A coffee, mind you, that was excessive because he had already gone to get his own coffee. And it wasn't some lame ass plastic cup coffee either. It was like a fancy espresso (what the hell is that?) in a fancy cup. Someone please tell me, WHO IS THIS WOMAN? I mean she strolls in and then shakes her ass all out of the classroom like genuinely proud of what she had just blatantly done. I don't think I have ever been more embarrassed for another person, with the exception of myself in the ninth grade because I was, oh, just about as childish and mildly retarded as this secretary ho. In the ninth grade! When I was 15!

Some of you may be saying, "But Eugenia, it was just a coffee," and to those people I say, fuck you. Seriously. I mean, little hearts and then a special made coffee? These are the kinds of tactics you use when you're in high school. Grown ass people don't behave like this. At least not where I come from.

And where is that, you ask?

Planet earth, friends. Planet fucking earth. Where real people live.

She's totally making women everywhere look bad. Also, she's not even all that cute. I do have to admit I would totally allow this kind of shit if she was like a hunchback freak or something. Cause that would just be awesome. But, sadly not. Honestly, next class I wouldn't be surprised if homegirl resorted to punching this dude in the face or pulling his hair.

Do other people understand my distress or am I totally alone on this one? C'mon!

Seriously.

- E

Seasonal Babies

2006-09-11T09:45:00.000-06:00

My whole life I thought I was a fall baby. Born in the fall and destined to always have a birthday at the beginning of the school year when no one really cares. I resigned myself to this thought. I took on the role of a fall baby: a little chilly but not ice cold, starting to whither away but not completely gone, fall colors were my colors and the world seemed right.

But, today I stumbled accross some very interesting thoughts. I´m actually not a fall baby at all. Because here in the southern hemisphere we have opposite seasons, I, Eugenia Salvo, am a spring baby. A spring baby! I mean this really changes my view on the world. I wasn´t born at the beginning of the school year, I was born almost at the end. That time of the year when people kind of care. This is seriously life altering. I mean, can you imagine me as - gasp, can I even say it? - a spring person? Spring! The season of new life and whatnot.

This could prove to be a very interesting experience after all.

- E

Hearts on a post-it

2006-09-07T21:19:00.000-06:00

As far as I can tell September 18th seems to be the most ridiculously important day in all of Chile. Independance day — or according to the TV at the subway station, the day we celebrate the first government forming (and not actually Chile's independance from Spain) — is fast approaching. All I've been hearing lately is people talking about barbeques and flags, and independance, and getting drunk when there are kids around. I'd like to say I'm excited about all of those things and I am, but I'm mostly excited about getting two days off of work.

In the mean time, the following ridiculous thing has happened to me:

[Long story short] I left one of my students (who takes classes in a group at their office) a post-it on his desk and one of the secretaries thought it would be HILARIOUS to put little hearts on it. So, for two days this poor man thought I was freakish enough to try to seduce him with little hearts on a post-it and everyone in the office knew about it and also thought it was HILARIOUS. Then they finally told him it wasn't me, which I suppose was awfully nice of them. Needless to say Eugenia didn't hear about it until a week and a half later. Guess which two people in this story didn't actually think the whole thing was hilarious?

Seriously, who would put LITTLE HEARTS ON A POST-IT? I mean, I'm just saying. I bet she did it with like a pink pen, too.

On a side note, my students are great sometimes and I totally adore this group. So, it was all good. We awkwardly laughed about it and then we agreed that little hearts on a post-it isn't really my 'style' and then we watched The Office.

little hearts,
- E

Chile, the modern world

2006-09-04T22:11:00.000-06:00

There's this thing about the subway here in Santiago: it's clean. I mean really, really clean. There's no grafitti, there's no garbage and even the dirtiest of the dirty bastards will put away his wrapper/can when he's done instead of throwing it on the floor. I think I've gotten so used to it that I forget how truly remarkable this thing is. The same people who can't figure out how to run a proper bus system or install a damn telephone in less than a month have this incredible subway system that's kind of pleasant to be on. It shocks me still how a country can be so dysfunctional and yet, so logical.

This morning on my way to work I remembered how remarkable this whole Chilean subway system is. They now have TVs IN the subway car. Please take a moment to imagine my amazement as I sat mouth agape, staring at Olivia Newton John and John Travolta in that lovely scene from Grease where they both, covered in tight leather things, lovingly proclaim "You're the one that I want." Does riding the subway get any better than that? Between that and old school Madonna videos, Shakira looking busted in her MTV Unplugged performance and some guy singing along loudly to Eric Clapton's "Change The World," I may never get off of the subway again.

New York, Phildelphia: please take note. Dirty, smelly ass subway = bad. Clean, video-showcasing subway = good.

Loves,

- E