i am so glad that mexico is independent

because it sure is a good reason to have a fiesta. i was so excited when i found out about the fiesta mexicana and EL GRITO, i immediately called my friend, emily, and said that i found something even better than greek fest: mexifest!! emily suggested we do both...brilliant.

six years ago i was in mexico for independence day. i stood in the crowd of exuberant mexicans listening to the mayor on a balcony above us talk about all the great things about mexico (tequila and enchiladas, mainly). then we did "el grito" (the shout). it consisted of him shouting, "Viva Mexico!" and we'd respond "VIVA!!" each time louder than the last. then there was cheering and singing and dancing and much merrymaking. i loved it. i love mexicans and their culture. i loved lying in my bed at night listening to the neighbor's fiesta music every night. i loved eating pig skins wrapped in tortillas. i loved going to the wal-mart in chihuahua and being greeted by, not a man with carts, but a mariachi band in full costume WITH A TRUMPET. i loved seeing ruins among the tumbleweed and cactus. i loved living with the vizcainos and eating lupe's cooking every day. i loved eating tortas with peppers so hot my face went numb. i loved saluting the flag hitler style and singing the national anthem with gusto every monday morning at school. i have very fond memories of mexico, so i was SO EXCITED to be able to do el grito in the company of mexicans again. (my class and i did el grito on cinco de mayo last year, but it's not the same with 26 pasty-faced third graders.)

first, we went to the greek fest: delicious gyros, loukoumathes, spanakopita, dolmathes. fun dances. hot greek guys getting wasted. all things i love. and normally, that would be heavenly enough. but i had other things on my mind. we walked to fiesta mexicana and i was one happy girl. we listened to the music, we drank the horchata, we ate the empanadas, i won a cd of crappy mexican songs and then the moment arrived. we were led in el grito by some guy:
Viva la independencia de Mexico! Viva!
Viva la patria! Viva!
Viva Hidalgo! Viva!
Viva Mexico! VIVA!
Viva Mexico! VIVA!!!
Viva Mexico! VIVA!!!

then we immediately started singing el himno nacional. i sang it with such enthusiasm you'd think i was born and bred mexican. there were small children frightened by my singing, but i didn't care. after the himno we listened to some mariachi and then left, knowing the best was over. so we walked back to the train and stumbled across ANOTHER FIESTA!! first greek fest, then mexifest, now mexifest PART 2?!?! this was shaping up to be a great day. we walked right in and found ourselves in the midst of a much smaller party. also, we were the ONLY white people there. maybe that's why the group of guys started laughing at us. then we started dancing to the cheesy mexican pop band that was playing. that is definitely why the second group of guys started laughing at us. i was feeling bold (and giddy, of course: 2 mexifests!!!) so i said, what's so funny?!?!? and the whole second group came over to us and 2 of them asked us to dance. so we did. the dance area had about 20 people in it and then there were 100 or so people sitting in chairs watching the dancers and the band. and we went right up to the middle of the dance area and started boogie-ing the night away. in front of all the spectators. with our bags slung over our shoulders. with 2 attractive mexicans. the people dancing were fairly tame dancers (as most people are). i am not one of those people. i like to think i'm no slouch on the dance floor, but i've seen videos that prove otherwise. i look ridiculous. and really, that knowledge should stop me, but it doesn't. despite being the biggest spectacle of the night, we had a great time. it got even better when we decided it was time to go (we'd humiliated ourselves enough and it was close to bedtime: 10 pm) and these guys asked us for our phone numbers. we were totally unprepared and had not had adequate time to prepare a good excuse (i'm sorry, i only date guys who have social security numbers) so we gave them our numbers. i did not even have the presence of mind to give a fake number. i was still reeling with the success of my dance performance, i guess. then they mexi-kissed us on the cheeks and we left. keep in mind, this was all done in front of 100 spectators (fans). i hope they enjoyed watching our love story unfold. happy birthday, mexico lindo!

i wonder when the india fest is.

i was sitting at a stop light

and happened to notice the car in front of me with this license plate:

CRNRWRKR

sound it out. what do you get? CORNER WORKER!?!?!

was this person really announcing that she is a prostitute? what boldness! what class! if she is, she should really raise her rates. her car was in much worse shape than mine and i drive a honda. and i'm just a

POORTCHR

what's her excuse?

i should have been a rock star

my dad groomed me from the time i was small by teaching me how to play air guitar to pink floyd songs. (he is the master) i honed my skills at college with robin to "more than a feeling." (it has a riff that sounds awesome on air guitar) i also tried learning the actual guitar, but that didn't take. (a real guitar makes it MUCH more difficult to lie on the floor and spin in a circle while playing.) and i've always had this secret fantasy of being an amazing singer and wowing everybody with my hidden talent. the family christmas party last year was where i discovered the one thing i had been missing: guitar hero. GUITAR HERO!?!? THAT'S ME! i played all night with my brothers and cousins, completely monopolizing the game and using all my signature air guitar moves, this time with a guitar that had buttons. best christmas party ever. so THEN about a month later a group of people from work got together to play rock band, which i learned was guitar hero plus drums PLUS A MICROPHONE!!! here was my chance to wow everyone with my hidden talent! i rocked to bon jovi "dead or alive" and the guess who "american woman". there was a little voice in the back of my head telling me that i was making a fool of myself, but i didn't care. i was a rock star. it may have been in somebody's basement on a video game, but that was inconsequential. i was a rock star.

end of part 1.

you will never meet a bigger beatles fan than i. my high school best friend, lyndsey, and i were obsessed. we read countless books about them. she even had a beatles encyclopedia. our walls were covered in posters. we made music videos. (see? rock star.) we fantasized about meeting them, wondering if we'd be the screamers, the criers or the fainters. (lyns=screamer. me=crier.) our low point was when we bought beatles trading cards. we astounded (aka annoyed) people with our knowledge of useless beatles trivia (paul mccartney's first name? james.) we even paid real money to see a beatles tribute band. and george harrison's real sister was there and we followed her around because she was GEORGE HARRISON'S SISTER!!! we made plans to visit central park on the anniversary of john lennon's death (and still secretly hope to do that). my aunt took me to a ringo starr concert once (it was 100% cheesy, but do you think the 50-year-old women and i cared about that? we did not.) one of the top 10 most memorable travel experiences (yes, i have a list for that) was crossing the actual abbey road in london with my friend, sara, and spending an HOUR trying to get the perfect shot. anyway, high school ended and we packed away our books and posters and memorabilia (except for the sgt. pepper salt & pepper shakers, i still use those), but kept out the cds (it is about the music after all, isn't it?)and t-shirts (the beatles are still the most represented band in my t-shirt drawer.) we didn't stop loving them, but we did stop being so pathetic about it. and though their music doesn't make a regular appearance in my itunes, i still consider them my favorite band of all time.

end of part 2.

put rock band and the beatles together and what do you get? you get me. this saturday. in best buy. playing the demo version of beatles rock band (not yet released) ripping it up on those plastic guitars and singing my guts out to "i feel fine," (the microphone wasn't even hooked up) much to the embarrassment of my mother, whom i forced to play drums, and matty, whom i forced to play bass. when that 3 minutes of bliss was over and they tried to leave, i screeched, "ONE MORE!!" and bless their hearts, they resigned themselves to more humiliation while i belted out "can't buy me love" with all the feeling i had.

laugh all you want, best buy employees, you've just met a rock star.

united pigs of america has been temporarily suspended

but only temporarily, believe you me. upa is a club started by my friend, amanda and her friend when they were in middle school. meetings consisted of getting together and eating a whole lot of food, so when amanda told me of upa, i knew immediately this was a cause i could whole-heartedly support.

amanda and i decided to resurrect upa on our trip to st. moritz after the 2 of us ate a plate of raclette intended for 4 people. raclette consists of pouring melted cheese over any and everything: potatoes (there were enough to feed an entire irish county), tiny onions, prosciutto, pickles, olives, bread, tomatoes. it may sound gross, but trust me, it's not. although you can actually feel yourself getting fatter and your arteries filling with fat (or is it cheese?).

upa convened regularly this summer. on day trips. on campus. overnight trips. evenings off. staff meetings. it was easy to find recruits. we even got rich to be in charge of upa international: he's british. we ate whole pizzas (in our defense, those things are very thin). we tried all the unusual toppings on the menu: salmon, walnuts, dandelion leaves, cream cheese, artichokes, whole broccoli, eggplant, buffalo milk cheese, zucchini, whole raw egg, tuna, sweet peas. (i may not speak much italian, but i am fluent in reading italian menus). we had rabbit and polenta, cannoli, gnocchi, every pasta imaginable. sara li, the local gelateria, was a daily and sometimes twice daily stop on our itinerary. we had every kind of cheese switzerland offers (really it's surprising there weren't more digestive problems among upa members). we piled on the cafeteria food, even though it was cafeteria food. it was not uncommon to order more than one dessert. the pinnacle of the summer of overindulgence was when six gold status members of upa celebrated the end of summer in style during a day trip at a restaurant in bellinzona:

2 appetizers? check.
MORE than 6 entrees? check.
6 profiterols? check. (think, chocolate cream puff filled with ice cream drizzled in chocolate)
1 giant order of chocolate fondue? check.
sips of chocolate fondue after the fruit was gone? check.

it was a glorious gluttonous time.

but all good things come to an end and we put upa to sleep for a season. it is no coincidence that once my upa membership expired, i joined another, better-known club: gold's gym

i sure hate that place.