Recovery and Revelation

I got ill for the second time this month. I think it was the flu both times. But now I'm better. I wasn't able to go into work due to my condition, so I'd been in bed for most of the week, falling into my disgusting routine of watching endless amounts of television. I'm all caught up on a couple Argentine soap operas, both of which are horrible...I think the Asians have mastered the art form at a level unmatched by the rest of the world.

Anyway, yesterday, I was feeling well enough and craving American food. (As I wrote before, Argentine cuisine is painfully limited to an either bland or unpalatably salty derivative of Italian cuisine.) I ventured into a downtown McDonald's establishment and ordered a "Big McTasty, y por favor agranda el combo". I sat in the middle of the dining room on the second floor. Took off my jacket, then my vest, then my sweater. Put them on the chair beside me. Opened up my McTasty oh so delicately and commenced. I thought I might weep. It was so fucking good.

Later that evening I went to a bar with a friend where I met his other friends, one of whom is gay. He wasn't cute, unfortunately, but we immediately got along quite well. I was invited to his house, since everyone wanted to go out and I wasn't feeling well enough for a crazy night of dancing/drinking.

La Plata is the administrative capital of Buenos Aires Province. It is a city that was planned before being built and there are no sky scrapers. The city, which is 500 blocks by 500 blocks (roughly), is in a perfect grid system with a plaza equally spaced out every 10 blocks or so. The weird thing is, there are no clearly marked retail zones and residential zones except along the avenues. There are no neighborhood covenants which dictate architectural standards. There are no spaces between houses, it's like a continuous series of rowhouses. Finally, you often find BEAUTIFUL houses right next to a dilapidated piece of shit. Most of the time, you can't really tell from the outside.

Anyway, my newfound friend drove us to his house and when we got there, I was like uhh...this looks like a piece of shit. But then, he opened the front door and I found myself in the most charming foyer lined in marble with old antique furniture pieces and beautiful Baroque paintings in gilded frames that must have weighed a ton. His father, dressed in the most intimidatingly beautiful suit, greeted me with a kiss and a handshake and grilled me about where I came from, what I thought of Argentina, etc. We went into the kitchen where there was this box overflowing with bite-sized desserts and sandwiches and we ended up eating and talking till 6 in the morning.

This kid's grandfather was the cousin of Spanish Dictator Francisco Franco, which was hilarious to tease him about, until his father overheard me and lectured me on how Franco was trying to preserve Christian conservatism in a country that was losing its way to Socialism and Sexual backwardness. HAHA. Furthermore, this kid has 4 citizenships: Argentina, Bolivia, Italy, and Spain...and he has a passport for all of them except Bolivia. Crazy, huh?

Anyway, that's my update. Sorry it sucked, but hopefully I'll have better stories for you now that I'm feeling better.