Latin American Men Suck

I'm sick and tired of Latin America. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, an emptiness in my stomach, a ringing in my ears, dirt in my nose, dust in my hair, and the feeling that I was unwholesomly objectified more than 500 times in one afternoon. 

I hate the men here. Oh how suave they are! Oh how charming with their right to grab you at any moment! How special I feel whenever I'm walking and the men just stare! (Not) Sometimes I stare back. Sometimes I just walk with a daze in my eyes. Sometimes kids will whistle and think they are that much cooler. Sometimes they flip me off. Sometimes I flip them off. 

We are past the point of appreciating individual beauty, class, or aura. As long as I have boobs and a vagina I will be praised and given my goldstar: a stare. 

I hate men. Pay no attention to me, please. This isn't the attention I want or need. I will slaughter you all. 

And it really helps that I'm blonde and 5'9" 

Wifi en mi cama

I didn't have wifi in my bed - or so I thought until the other day when I happened to sit at the end of my bed while trying to send a text message and then my whole world changed. 

If I'm snuggled and lying in bed I can blog, Facebook, and Instagram, but I cannot send iPhone text messages or FaceTime. Fail, Manzana. 

However, if I am five feet in the opposite direction of my pillow, I can most certainly have a FaceTime without it cutting out every five seconds. 

What happens when I am lying in my warm bed and do not want to get up? I hit send, toss the phone to the end of the bed, and then when I'm sure it has sent, I reel in the top blanket that it is on. 

System to beat the cold. System to use my technology amidst shitty wifi. 

Move-in day

The first two weeks back at school are the best, and I'm a little bumed that I am not there to participate in the general excitement and such. I'm not the least bit sad about not hauling a bunch of unnecessary crap up three flights of stairs. 

I miss my roomies terribly. 

Now that everyone is posting about moving in and such, I suppose I should add my two cents about my move-in day. 

My move-in day took me about 17 hours in transit and five minutes to move in. It was wonderful. Of course, I did bring my own school supplies and a monton of medicine, but other than that, I was all set. 

My decoration: Queen Victoria. May she be an inspiration to us all. 

Note: Yerba Mate, Coconut Oil, and Thomas Hardy

Café inspiración

Nunca desistas de un sueño, sólo trata de ver las señales que llevan en el. 

Thank you, quaint café 

Immune system fail

I don't know how I went from swollen glands and borderline strep and aching flu -> to blocked tear ducts and allergies -> to pink eye. 

Time period of this transformation: 3 days

You'd think I was a sickly child all over again. 

I would kill for some hot, gooey cinnamon  rolls right now. Or Ramen. 

A big lettuce, tomato, mushroom, kalamata olive, red onion, cranberry salad with feta and balsamic vinegar would probably heal me instantly.

And the first doctor only prescribed me Ibuprofen. The chances of me dying in Argentina have increased tenfold. 

I console myself with "at least I don't have malaria and typhoid and am lying in some forgotten Italian hospital." Ahem 

Should have had my apendix removed before coming. That would be pretty bad... I wonder, if my apendix burst, would I have to wait 3-4 hours for the doctor to make a house call? 

And now everything's blurry so I'll stop. 

Ibuprofen

I hate it how I've now been near death with swollen glands so augmented I can't even move my neck, and both of the two times the doctor has prescribed ibuprofen. 

He prescribed an antibiotic the first time, and then yesterday (when he made his house call, because that's what they do here), he didn't see any plaque on my throat yet and just prescribed me ibuprofen. 

I refused the prescription because I had already brought a bottle over from the states. 

And now today, I'm as sick as a dog with assured plaque on my throat. I'll even give you a vivid description - green snot and difficulty swallowing. 

I can't figure out why I've only been sick twice in the past three years, and now I've been sick twice in just the three weeks I've been here. 

I've only kissed like what, 500 people on the cheek to greet and say goodbye. 

But no hugs. I need some hug therapy. Where are my Indiana people? 

I also need that antibiotic. Sorry to be a bother, but can the doctor come over again because I wasn't lying when I said that I am going to be very sick if I'm not proactive in getting this antibiotic. 

I don't need a doctor to tell me to take a ibuprofen...

Batter's up

I've batted my eyelashes so many times today that my eyelids are tired. 

Blonde, American, and mujer charm.