Celebrate and Cepillate!

Today as luck would have it, I came across this cute little toothbraste vending machine in the Mujeres room of La Rosalia. Of course, I jammed 2 pesos in there as fast as I could. I so respect the efficiency of an all-in-one, whether in my printer or hygiene care. The neatest part about my discovery? It comes in different colors, each foretelling a grand fortune! It's like getting a cookie at the end of your Chinese meal, minus the carbs or second guessing ("Damn, I should've grabbed that cookie...")

There's some creative laziness on the part of the fortune writer though--I mean, in the art of soothsaying, how is "Tender" even in the same realm as "Wishes to came true"? In any case, who cares?! Because praise the lord, I got red. "Passion at your door"--nothing wishy washy about that! Though now I can't stop looking out my peephole...

7-11ish

It's the cradle of convenience and the sameish everywhere: the premade sandwiches, the porn, the Ho Hos (they'd be alfajores here), the porn, the beers and sodas, the porn, except at Tigermarket you also get a café bar and a Subwayish counter offering fresh steak hoagies. Oh, and a TV showing futbol 24-7ish.

Chinablock at Random

Duodenum Massage

One day I really will get my
[s]erebellum soothed or my
[c]idney coddled or my duodenum dandled or my pancreas palpated or ... you get the idea.

And Dim Sum

Dorothy, we're not in Ocean Star (145 N Atlantic Boulevard, Monterey Park, California, 91754) anymore!

Dim sum in Buenos Aires is basically a what-you-see/what-you-get one-street-cart act: You point to a stick/the nice lady drops it in the deep fryer; you point to the faux Sriracha/the nice lady slathers it on with a brush; you count out 4 pesos (a 100% inflation from a year ago)/the nice lady hands you the oil-seeped paper bag; you tear into the gristle/your gaze falls on the detoxification clinic one block over. Sickness ensues. Lather, rinse, repeat.

My favorite find are these football-shaped potstickers stuffed with scrambled eggs and seasoned chives, totally vegetarian and a copycat of those delectable chive dumplings you get in real Chinatowns the US over.

My New Hangout

My Pharmacist Loves Me

Well... not really. But he does give me whatever I want over the counter, like the I'm-so-much-cooler-than-Advil Matrix 600 (even the tablets look swollen with hubris) and scary-shit stuff like this migraine medication Tetralgin, which has an ingredient that's been banned for nearly 3 decades in the first world. [For med geeks, Dipirona.]

I haven't actually succumbed to Tetralgin yet, though it was highly recommended to me by an Argentine coworker whose migraine vexation rivals mine own. That is to say, we are both wrecked by it. Oh let's face it, I'm chicken shit and haven't the courage to get within 20 feet of Tetralgin. This less-than-stellar trait is what's saved me from being the full-blown drug addict I'm capable of becoming given my obsessive/neurotic nature. Chalk another mark in the potential:unrealized column.

Care Package #2

Contents:

- Sweatshirt hoodie from Nordstrom, brown and owly

- Chuao Gourmet Hot Chocolate, Abuela (if you haven't tried Chuao, wtf are you waiting for?!)

- Korean seaweed

- Pocky, strawberry

- Dermalogica face cream

- Don DVD (swoonworthy)

- Japanese sleeve protectors for dishwashing (a must have, already my second pair)

- $40 cash for spawn

Thank you, Emu! We love you!

Care Package #1

Contents:

- Season 3 DVDs of "The Office" ("Sometimes you have to be the boss of dancing!")

- PSP game, Crush

- 10-pack Junior Mints

- Snak-Saks Nutter Butter Bites

- Snak-Saks Mini Oreo Bite Size (hey, Nabisco copywriters: make up your fing mind--is it "bites" or "bite size"?)

- KitKat Assorted Minis

- 8-pack Reese's Peanut Butter Cups

- 8-pack Fun Size Peanut M&Ms

- 2 boxes Butterfinger Stixx (Stixx and Snaks may break my back but words will never...)

- 2 boxes Crunch Stixx

- 8 fun size Snickers

- 2 packs of Twix 4ToGo (doncha mean "Twixx"?)

- Hostess Ho Hos

- Hostess Ding Dongs

- Hostess Sno balls (Dongs, Hos, and balls--I'm so white-trashing it this weekend. And why is "balls" lowercase? Because they hang lower? Oh how I long to live in a world with capitalization consistency...)

Thank you, titi Wa! We love you!

Slacker Genes

Came across a personal narrative that spawn recently turned in for his advanced creative writing class, obligatorily titled, "Who Am I?" Asked to sum up his philosophy for these baker's dozen years on earth, he offered up this pithy view:

“It’s not work if nobody makes you do it. Then it counts as fun.” That’s a line from Calvin and Hobbes. And even though it’s from a newspaper comic, I think it’s the perfect way for me to live.

Shit! Why isn't he rebelling like all good, healthy children are supposed to, and be the overachieving, Republican-leaning, grade-inflation-seeking, Asian-kid-seeming, competitive asshole that I never was?!

Mall Chick

The Abasto Shopping is by far my favorite mall in Buenos Aires. It houses a freakin' ferris wheel for god's sake, not to mention a play area named Neverland. (I hope they don't allow sleepovers at this Neverland.)

This Is Spinal Crap

After a month of kinesiologia, my sciatica is finally incrementally improving, thanks to the patient and nimbly fingered Dr. B, who'll sometimes eschew sonogram technology altogether to spend upwards of 20 minutes massaging my vertebrate, rib by precious rib. Long live Dr. B and his Spidey senses! Dr. B 4-evah!

Here's where the magic happens. (Keep your oohs and aahs to a minimum so you don't disturb the other patients...)

And check out the awesome dumbwaiter! Sometimes while deep in waiting-room ennui, I get tempted to leave stealthy notes for the clerk upstairs, just stupid stuff like, "Beam me up to the 21st century, Estefania!" Or maybe one day I'll rig up two tin cans. zzz

Sometimes My Camera Takes Pretty Pictures

Santa Monica Promenade (almost)

Street Hawker Food: Images From Tigre

Cajita Feliz

My happy box. Contrary to popular belief, life is so much better with a Hello Kitty keychain.

Crack Pudding Cups

I can slurp these babies all day long like a monkey on crack. The only thing that'd make them more perfect is if they came in yoghurt tubes. C'mon Danette, tube them. Tuuuuube. (I feel high.)

As Promised...

He may be the poor man's (woman's?) Gael Garcia Bernal, but I'm sure he can write in your motorcycle diaries anytime, right, ladies?