A short look back

No major news stories this past week, though I have heard some rumblings about some kind of election or something that happened past Tuesday. As a result, I'm going to try a different approach and write a collection of shorts.

GOBAMA!
Apparrently this is some clever individuals combination of "Go" + "Obama," I get it. What I don't get is how Alabama football (currently ranked #1 in the nation) fans never found some sort of way to manipulate said signs to cheer for their team. The actual reason I bring this up is the question asked on a post from my last blog:

What's the atmosphere/sentiment down there post-US election?

Argentina's economy is tied rather close to the US, as well as their culture and their politik (or so they think). Although the day to day life is really no different, there is an out-pouring of support for Obama. A recent poll showed 70% of Argentines supported our President-elect and I can see why. Objectively speaking, a younger black man is pretty far on the opposite end of the spectrum of our past presidents, those being old white dudes. If nothing else, and I say this by mere observation, Obama represents a symbol from America to the World of "we want to change."

AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL
Never one to use my blog for political purposes, I did want to take a non-partisan look back at the election, for those of you who haven't had enough country. It gives me great pride to see the world taking such a close interest in our election. In a time when the dollar was town, China and India are on the rise, and rumors have already started about the collapse of the great western empire, this election has shown both the beauty of democracy and the staying power of the american will. I doubt, in my life time, that there has ever been an election more closely watched than this. Countries spanning the globe tuned in, and front pages world-wide reported the results. Short of living in the remotest of remote areas, a extremely large majority of the world's population knows who the next president of the united states of america.
Think about that...how many world leaders can you name? I'd be suprised if it's five or greater, and I think all of my audience are college (and even post-graduate educated folk). Meanwhile, people who can't even read in Kenya, Argentina, and various other remote third world countries know at least one, and that's the US president. Some may take the fact that most Americans probably couldn't name five world leaders as an show of how ego-centric we are, but that's a discussion for a later time, and i believe Otter said it best with "I put it to you, Greg - isn't this an indictment of our entire American society? Well, you can do whatever you want to us, but we're not going to sit here and listen to you badmouth the United States of America. Gentlemen!"

THESE SCHNOZEBERRIES TASTE LIKE SNOZEBERRIES
I started a new diet last wednesday. It's a bit radical and has almost no sugar or carbohydrates, very similar to the South Beach but a bit more extreme. For those of you wondering why, I think the best answer was the one I gave to my roommate: Cause all I've been doing is eating and drinking for the last eight months.

If you ever tried a similar diet, you know what I'm going through. For those of you who haven't, however, let me fill you in. Sugar is actually a bit of a drug, especially processed sugar. True, your body needs sugar to produce insulin and survive, but most of America has essentially over-loaded their system with processed sugar. Your body the converts the sugars inefficiently and starts to treat natural sugars (ie fruit) the same as processed sugars (candy, granola bars, etc). Long story short, a large minority of americans are obese, diabetes could drain our health care system, and for the first time in the history of the US, the life expectancy in younger generations is lower than that of their parents.

Two weeks is the initial and most extreme phase, almost no sugars. I've had some trouble sleeping, been moody, and even had bizzarre day dreams. This is a bit freaky that sugar withdrawal can do that to a person, but my day dreams have been nothing but funny. The other day on the bus I envisioned (it was near hallucination) having myself crawl inside one of those ice cream freezers at a local shop, ten minutes is all i'd need before going into insulin induced shock. The next was after a swim workout. I had forgotten to eat beforehand, and even drink water. I finished the workout absolutely ravished and was craving everything. On my way to find water I passed a guy carrying a two liter bottle of pepsi that was so cold it was literally dripping with perspiration. Although I havent had a soda in almost four years and rarely miss it, I envisioned showering myself in it and there may have even been music playing in the background. 8 more days...

RESOLUTION
Those of you who know me well, know I love New Years resolutions. It all started junior year of college when I decided I was eating too much crap. Instead of doing the obvious thing like stop going to fast food or eat in moderation, I gave up french fries. From there, the legend was born. I now give up something every year, and take that time to decide whether I really want it in my life. Despite Jimmy's best efforts of trying to show some fried taters between my knashed teeth, its been nearly five years since I've had a fry. Some of the others:

2005: Soda, never went back.
2006: Alcohol (in north america, i spent a week in London), went back. What's better in life than a beer with pizza or wings, or just on a hot day. Also a nice glass of red wine with a good italian meal, I couldn't deprive myself of that.
2007: Desserts. Also went back, a great dessert is pure bliss.
2008: Potato chips, not sure but am thinking about staying off them.
2009: ?

I'd actually beg your help for 2009. I'll be in Argentina for part of the time, traveling through south america another part, probably richmond for a bit, and hopefully San Francisco. Due to unknown variables I can't give up my initial resolution: fast food. What happens if I'm on an 18 hour bus ride and the only stop they make is McDonalds? I'd ask for suggestions, serious or funny, emailed or posted, and I'll put my three favorite to a vote on the blog. thanks

AWWWWWKWARD
I was down in a main tourism area this past weekend, shopping for a map, when I experienced one of the more awkward times of my life. When one of my friends was going to try on a hat, the cross-eyed cashier (a guy in his young 20's) asked me what BJ meant. In argentina, it means boca juniors, one of the most popular teams in the country (and most recognizable in the world). I tried to give him the literal translation twice, but it just wasn't registering, so I gave him a couple translations into Spanish. He immediately blushed and apologized for bringing up a taboo subject, then continued to talk about it for the next three minutes in front of my friend and various other women.

RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE WEEK
I wonder if Toucan Sam, the lovable and more than slightly annoying bird in the Froot Loops commercial, just had a nose for Fruit Loops or if he had hyper-sensitive olfactory sense. I'd guess the later because the former is far too fictional. Who smells fruit loops anyways? I never did. Could you imagine sitting down in front of your bowl, milk freshly poured, and leaning your head down to get a big ole whiff of artificial flavoring and coloring?
The latter really isn't a much better option though. If he's able to smell Fruit Loops so well, the he can smell other, stronger smells even better, like shit. Walking around and smelling shit 90% of the time would not be worth the other 10% of Fruit Loops smells, at least not in my book.

Really? Again?

For those of you who read my European entry on Octoberfest, you, like me, would be wondering how someone could possibly ever pull such a feat, much less repeat it. For those of you who haven't read said entry, I'd highly recommend it (see Beta blog v1.0).

My friend Tom arrived on Friday morning for a short five night stay, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The real beginning to this story goes back two weeks to when my parents were here. I took my folks out to a local brew pub, one of the few that actually makes good beer, to have a pint. On the table I noticed promos for a Oktoberfest celebration they were having the following week (Oct 23-25). With a slight longing for days of yore and phantom pains from my liver at the mere mention of said event, the promise of german food, beer, and music was too much to pass up. Before realizing what I was getting myself into I sent out an email to prepare the crew... this was going to be a big night. As Friday the 24th would be my buddy's first day, and Patrick's (my roommate) buddies last night, all we had to do was wait.

I actually ended up meeting a friend of a friend there for a pint. He was new to Argentina and i figured I'd let him in on one of the better bars, as well as scope out the scene. Much to my surprise, they were having chugging contests, my achilles heel. They were mid-contest when I arrived so all I could do was watch as argentines slowly drank and spilled beer in a terribly public manner. The mere idea of the winner that evening drinking his beer in eight seconds and spilling a quarter of it got my competitive juices flowing. I befriended the bartender and made sure I would end up competing the next evening.

Fast forward to friday evening. We arrive at the bar at 10pm as that's when the "fondo blanco" is supposed to start. Silly me for believing it would occur on time. Perhaps it was nervous energy, or excitement for Tom being in town, but I managed to be well on my way with more than a few beers and a shot of whiskey by the time the contest actually started. Two fields of 6 in the male competition and one field of six women, the winners meet for the final. Round 1: I lost. Though, as it turns out, the winner just poured his entire beer on his shirt. My entourage pointed this out with various gestures and curses in english and spanish and I made my way into the finals. The finals, of course, happened about two hours after the first round, which was the exact amount of time I needed to repeat my previous drinking mistakes. Round 2: the championship round, I won. And what did I win? ANOTHER BEER! They gave me a mug to and allowed me to choose what type I wanted. Dazed and disoriented, I just pointed to the nearest keg. Pictures actually tell this story better than words, thanks to Katie for snapping some:

OCKTOBERFEST
The beginning

the end of the contest. You'll notice a little spill on my shirt, which the other competitor had too (as well as some beer left in his glass).


Hilarity actually ensued after said event as my buddy Tom is probably in about the same shape as I. Those who don't know Tom, this guy has the kindest heart in the world and is one of the most un-assuming and un-threatening people you'd ever meet. Tom, the goofy putz that he is, was so excited about being in Argentina he began walking up to every Argentine girl and saying "hola." A little liquid courage may have helped to, but the problem was that Tom only knows five spanish words. Thus, when they replied all he could say was "bonita," shrug his shoulders, and laugh. I'd imagine there were probably about 55 girls at this bar, and Tom probably tried this technique with 49 of them.

As for me, the bartenders invited me behind the bar for some reason. I'm pretty sure it was for some announcement or something quick; however, one of the last things I remember is that I decided to stay behind the bar for at least an hour. Consequently, I don't remember much of the rest of the night and my friends (in better shape than I) don't remember paying for drinks at the end of the night.

me behind the bar, probably telling the bartender how to do his job


I'm starting to see how I ended up in the shape that I was in

me at the end of the night

In related news, I'm reconsidering my position on drinking

Random Thought of the Week
Is change (as in coinage) feminine? This actually all stems from the shortage of coins and their absolute neccesity within Buenos Aires. I can't imagine another day-to-day item more immasculinating than a coin pursue, but am open to suggestions. The more I thought about it, however, the credit I give to this argument. It may be coincidence that the word "peso" (whole monetary unit) is masculine and "moneda" (coinage) is feminine, but I think this phenominom prevades into the US culture too. How many men do you know that carry a change purse? None for me, every guy I know has a change jar or container that he puts whatever was in his pocket in at the end of the day. Women? Most all women seem to have billfolds that also carry change. What necesitates them needed change more than men? Or why can't men have change areas built into their wallets?

Perhaps this discussion isn't brought up and these questions remain unanswered for me due to the fact that their answers really would benefit almost no one.