Tuesday, January 25, 2011

the cafe´

i´m sitting in a little internet cafe´ using a keyboard i don´t understand to write this. just to give an idea of what it´s like, i´m not correcting any typos from now on.

i´m in mexico, and definitely the keyboard is not the only thing i don´t understand. despite that, i am very surprised by the high amount of English-friendly signs, menus, etc. around. we just ate at a great little restaurant <(whose plants that were hanging from the ceiling were real, not fake like we are used to.) it sort of bugs me when English overtakes a country´s language, even if just for a few streets. oh my heck. in my attempt to not correct the typos, i just deleted half of this post. lame. buttons that erase that are so close to my pinky fingers are scary. i typed most of my blog posts in brazil from various internet cafes. i was better at it then because i´d had more practice. these are some of the characters i miss<<<<<<<<<<<<< i can´t find the shift key, otherwise that would have been a colon. ªº?¿ñÑçÇ okay, i have to get out of here. more stories later.

this computer just told me to ¨´ESPERE´´. my favorite Spanish and Portuguese word. please ignore my punctuation.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

When It's Light

dating details and experiences rarely if ever show up on my blog. i've realized lately it's a shame. my and my friends' dating lives are a breeding ground (not really) of amusement.

a story about ________ (blank pseudonym to protect the awkward).

_______ is my good friend. she is normally of classy, feminine behavior, which is why the following story is so odd, yet funny.

______ had just begun dating a particular guy, and was in the midst of the deliriousness of a great new relationship. she calls me one day, contempletive.

_____: "Heth, i'm in the middle of a funny text conversation with (New Guy). he sent me one telling me he's sick, and asking if i was, too. i responded 'why would I be sick?' (insert _____'s throaty giggle). he said he assumes i didn't get that hot a grade in biology."

me: "ha."

_____: "so then i said, 'i have explosive diahrrea and rashes.'"

me (alarmed): "did you already send that?"

_____: "yes! but i'm not really sick, i'm just kidding."

me (confused): "no, you are sick. why would you say that?"

_____: "because it SOOO funny. i know he'll laugh. but he hasn't responded yet and it's been a while now..."

me: "i have to say i'm not surprised."

i'm not a bathroom-humor appreciator. so, i could not laugh with her at her little joke. but i was definitely laughing at her.

the conversation continues, she telling me about their latest emotionally-heavy conversation and other things of serious nature i won't mention.

me: "______, i think you need to ease this up a bit. it's getting too intense too fast. keep it light, keep it light!"

______: "i know! i am trying--that's why i said the diahrrea joke."

awesome.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

A Kickin' Christmas Present

i'm a bad gift-giver in general, and an especially bad one when it matters most--Christmas and my Best Friends' Weddings. this is apparent in my loved ones' lives in two ways: they either get nothing or they get something they don't like. my dad, for instance, has recently told me to stick to only giving him golf balls.

he already has buckets of balls.

there is one person that i am particulary good at giving presents to. it's Rachel (this girl), and she makes me. Rach is a great gift-giver. i realized the implications this would have on my life when we were new friends and i prepared her taxes for her, in return (haha) she gave me VS lotion as a thank-you gift. since then i've come to understand that i always am supposed to give presents.

this past Christmas we met up for a little Christmas shopping. something about Old Navy made us both realize neither of us needed any more clothes. so we decided to give each other a kickboxing class instead.

oh, yes.

tonight will be our first class. to find it, i had this conversation:

"hello. this is Master Tom."
"hi. i'm looking for a kickboxing class for my friend and i to take. do you do that?"
"miss, how did you get this number?"
"from ilovekickboxing.com"
"of course we have classes."
"okay, but i just want, like, a cardio class. i don't want to beat anyone up."
pause.
"well, it just depends on what you want ultimately, miss. just come on in. you can get a free pair of boxing gloves and three intro classes for $19.99. ask for me, i'm Master Tom. i call myself Master because i got credentials."

since i don't like extra stuff laying around my house, and i am not interested in punching anyone, the free gloves almost turned me off.

but instead, we signed up.

i'm not quite sure exactly what we signed up for, but i'm sort of excited.