for you (i'm sorry)

something suddenly became clear to me while i was attempting to read for school and of course my random thoughts usually take precedent. plus, any excuse not to learn more law is good enough for me.

i got to thinking about the universe and circumstances. why is it that some people constantly find themselves in shitty situations? why are some people always coming out winning? the answer: because they want to be.

i mean, are we really supposed to believe that its all just random chaos? psshh. not a chance. because theres just no chance that there are some who are luckier than others, or some that are worse off (this is speaking in the greatest metaphorical sense: obviously someone who lives in a slum in cambodia is worse off than your average joe). no, i've decided that we MAKE our circumstances. everything we do, everything we've done, has gotten us where we are right at this moment.

when i think about my life and the places its led me to, when i think about the times i've despaired or the times i've been completely and utterly enthralled with life, i realize its all just a framework for today. today is all that matters. so if today sucked, thats okay. if today was awesome, even better.

there's always tomorrow.

to do list

so you say you wanna write more? now's your chance.

a funny thing's been happening to me lately, something catherine says occurs only when i have finals. there are no finals, i'm in a foreign country, and my fucking head is spinning.

and i don't know why.

perhaps its because my head is the very thing i cant seem to get out of. i feel this constant state of anxiety, where i'm obsessing about not having enough time, not knowing what i wanna do, and am i drinking too much? i'm definitely smoking too much. yeesh.

see, the novelty of being somewhere new has started to wear off. i properly live in buenos aires now. i even have residency. huge. i've set into a routine, with deadlines and articles and classes and tests. TADA! the proverbial light bulb switches on: nicole HATES order. only chaos makes me feel sane.

and yes, i am freaking out about that realization as well.

you see, coming here was meant to be a period of growth and self-realization. and boy has it been: i'm starting to realize that i'm just a little bit crazy. a whirlwind of passion, drugs and alcohol. disorganized, often sloppy, and just a touch too loud. i don't think-i just do. and the thing is, i've always been this way and perhaps have gotten a bit better about not involving others in my locuras, and i'm sorry to say but..

i like it.

yup, that's right. i've decided the only way to stop freaking out about all the things i don't do or all the things i do wrong is to embrace the fact that that's just ME. i run into things and i'm exceptionally late and i always manage to make a mess at the dinner table. i should never have had that last drink and i pick all the wrong men, but man was it worth it to combine the two. my room is messy, i'm bad with money, and fuck me i forgot yet again. the most important thing to remember here is that i'm doing just fine.

hell, i'm better than fine.

shopgirl

yesterday was the kind of day that leaves a mark in your heart, with ideas spilling out of me like water out of a faucet. i spent the day roaming buenos aires with Jessica and Anna, a friend of Jess's from California. She came to stay in buenos aires for about a week before she would continue to travel Peru and Ecuador.

the night before, i had to review a bar in Retiro and i invited them along. after several cocktails we had dinner at Dadá, a bistro in the Microcentro, where we drank and ate to excess before deciding to head back to Palermo for more drinks, which proved to be a terrible idea because the next day I woke up with the worst hangover I have had in months. Determined to make something out of Anna's last day in Buenos Aires, we finally ripped ourselves out of bed around 2 pm, with a plan to go to La Boca and then the Recoleta market before Fuerza Bruta, round two. of course, being Buenos Aires, we completely changed those plans mid-walk and wound up doing lunch and lesiurely shopping. Nothing about that seems particularly inspiring or even unconventional to the norm, but for some reason ideas were popping in and out of my head all day as i continue to struggle with the question that burns daily in my brain and refuses to blow out, like a trick candle on a birthday cake: "WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING TO DO WITH MY LIFE?"

I am about 18 credits away from earning a law degree. A degree I did not work that hard for because I decided long ago I did not want to be a lawyer. If I could name the one regret I have in life, it's that I spent the last three years working towards something I truly don't believe I'm going to become. All those years I could have spent writing, I spent studying. I know it's terrible to look back that way and regret, but I just can't help it. At any rate, I am about to graduate which means I'm about to run out of excuses. And that realization has been tickling my nerves and anxiety to the point of terrifying, especially because I am enjoying my time here so much and have no immediate plans to return to the states.

Since I have been here, I've changed my mind most everyday about what I want to do. Some days, I want to open a restaurant. Others, get an art history degree and own a gallery. Sometimes, I step way outside the box and ponder the idea of acting or singing, childhood dreams I never chased because they seemed so unrealistic, but at this point seem worth a shot because there's nothing to lose. Most days, I dream of a writing career, working for newspapers, magazines and the like while writing that life-changing novel. All my friends reading this right now are probably chuckling to themselves and muttering something like "Oh Nic.." but like I've said before, being here has taught me that in order to be happy, you have to be a little crazy. Take a chance. Go against the grain. And since I've pretty much made a career out of challenging what's normal and conventional to most, I figure I'll continue on that path and fuck the rest.

so yesterday, Jessica and I were discussing The Sartorialist, a fashion blog that photographs well-dressed New Yorkers and blogs about their style. Just then, we passed an Argentine girl whose look made me want to spend every cent I had saved on clothes, and in a stroke of genius I said to Jessica: "Oh my god, Jessica! Why don't we start a fashion blog in Buenos Aires?!" Jessica, like me, is living in Buenos Aires indefinitely and has high hopes and big dreams of realizing greatness. Plus, we're soul mates. She erupted immediately with, "Nicole, I have been thinking the same thing!! Can we really do this?" We took the idea and ran with it for the rest of the day, deciding we'd print some cards and start stopping fashionistas on the street immediately. We brainstormed about how we could turn this into a business someday, by generating advertising from local boutiques.

Yes, I know. None of it makes any sense. One day I want this, the next that. But that's not the point of telling you about yesterday's inspirations. The point is that along with yesterday's inspirations came a realization: that life and finding what you want out of it is about trying. trying everything that comes to your brain, that seems like something you'd be good at or could enjoy doing. because until you try, you won't know. and if you try hard enough, eventually you'll find something so unbelievably gratifying, you'll wonder why it took you so long to figure it out.

After Fuerza Bruta, soaking wet and exhausted, Jess and I decided to stay in, order sushi and watch a movie. I don't know why but a movie called Shopgirl popped into my head, a film I had watched years ago when I was living with Joey that I remembered had inspired something in me about finding love. It was something I knew we both needed to watch that day, and the film invoked the same emotions and gave a new hope: that love, in all its forms, be it romantic or career-driven or just love for life, is just around the corner.

sin la locura...

Pardon me for not writing, but the last month of my life has been absolute locura. A fucking kilombo. The best month of my life.

Sometimes I think about how happy I am living in Buenos Aires that I start to panic at the thought of not living there. The city so agrees with me, from the culture to the people to the glorious food and fantastic nightlife. It’s the only city I’ve ever been where you’re automatically welcomed and engaged, and the city wraps you up in a frenzy, of feeling alive, of feeling at home, of feeling like the best possible version of yourself. At least, that’s what it does for me.

Sad as it seems, I was distraught to put the breaks on this torrid affair I’m having with Buenos Aires in order to do some traveling. Imagine that, being sad to leave a city in order to discover a new one! I quickly packed on Monday morning before my flight, forgetting a million things and only mildly excited for Uruguay. I was going with Miss Stephanie Osgood Choate, I say her whole name because in order to know the fabulosity that is Miss Stephanie Osgood Choate, you need all the facts. She and I had decided we wanted to travel on a short hiatus we had from our respective jobs, and poorly researched going to Peru, Bolivia and Brazil. Because of this last minute, poor planning, we decided instead to go to Uruguay. It’s not that I didn’t want to go to Uruguay, because I absolutely did. But winter in Uruguay isn’t exactly the season to visit, considering it’s fucking freezing. We decided to fly into Montevideo and spend a few days there before Punta del Este, an island off the coast that gets absolutely insane in the summers. Then we’d spend a peaceful day in Colonia, a quaint little colonial town before heading back to Buenos Aires. We reasoned that we needed a vacation from our vacation, where we could relax and decompress from our chaotic Argentine lives. Ever since I met Miss Stephanie Osgood Choate, it’s been an endless parade of amazing dinners and too-late nights, the kind that leave you waking up laughing and dragging yourself to brunch because there’s nothing to eat in your house, because there’s not enough time to put your social calendar on hold in order to go grocery shopping. So, the fucking kilombo that has been my life was to be paused for a week in frigid Uruguay.

How quickly I did remember that Miss Stephanie Osgood Choate is not the kind of woman that lets you relax. When we got to Montevideo, we went in search of a restaurant and landed on Don Peperone, the Uruguayan version of Friday’s, because it was the only place open save a couple of bars along the same street. At dinner, we polished off a bottle of wine and a glass of whisky before heading to El Pony Pisado where there was a live cumbia band. Several drinks later, we’re conga-lining with a huge Uruguayan family and dancing our embarrassing version of salsa for them. The next day, after a fantastic lunch at The Manchester, a very authentic spot frequented only by locals, where we enjoyed a Uruguayan chivito (a delicious grilled steak sandwich that has cheese, lettuce, tomato, red peppers, onions, mayo, mustard and ketchup), we found ourselves being pushed and squished in the middle of a massive street parade welcoming home the Uruguayan futbol team and their beloved captain, Diego Forlan. Hours later, having dinner at La Perdiz, in walks Diego Forlan, in all his glory. The restaurant erupts in cheers and applause and we down our drinks to muster up the courage to ask him for a photo. Later that night, at the only casino in Montevideo, which is really the only thing to do in Montevideo on a Tuesday night, Miss Stephanie Osgood Choate wins thousands of dollars (DOLLARS, not pesos) and sends the entire casino into a panic.

Agreed that we had done Montevideo right, we left for Punta del Este, or rather Punta Ballena, to our first hotel, Casapueblo. Casapueblo was designed by a famous Uruguayan artist, Carlos Paez Vilaró, who just so happens to be a friend of Miss Stephanie Osgood Choate’s father. Casapueblo houses the artist himself and his magnificient art, and the structure of Casapueblo very much resembles Gaudi’s home in Barcelona. The view is absolutely breathtaking, from our room you can see the waves crashing against the rocks, the mountains in the distance, with the perfect pocket for the sun to rest in the evenings. The hotel was empty, the restaurant closed, and reception advised we’d be hard pressed to find much open tonight. Refusing to be discouraged, we set out for El Puerto and found Lidoro, where I had the most delicious piece of fish I’ve had since arriving in the MeatLand. After dinner, we went to Moby Dick, a local dive bar and the only place open in Punta del Este on a wintery Wednesday. We befriended the bartender and a band of Brazilian sailors, closed down the bar, and hit a Uruguayan fiesta at a social club de deportivos (picture the kind of place that by day houses bingo games for the elderly, and by night transforms itself into a banging dance hall). Around 6 am, we stumbled out of the club and tried to figure out how the fuck to get home, considering our hotel was a solid 15 minutes away and there wasn’t a cab in sight. I don’t know how we managed, but the next day I woke up at around 1:30 in a t-shirt and my underwear, hysterically laughing because I had set the alarm for 10:30 the night before, screaming profanities about waking up in time for breakfast for once.

Hung over, we walked over the museum portion of the hotel to meet with the artist, Carlos Paez Vilaró. I was awe-inspired by his colorful yet simple art, by his life story, his world travels, and his beautiful home. Paez is about 86 years old and the most gentle man you can imagine. He was overwhelming us with hospitality, and even in his old age his playboy tendencies were showcased as he stroked my cheek. We got a grand tour of his home, which housed a mountain of books and art and sculptures and furniture, from all different corners of the earth. I read some of his poetry, pieced through his canvasses and just tried to swallow this man’s extraordinary life. There was one particular painting that stood out, not necessarily because of the art, but because of the words scribbled along the bottom: “Sin la locura, no hay grandeza.” It was then that I had a revelation: I would not waste even one more minute of my life doing something I don’t want to do, trusting that if I chase my passions, everything will work itself out. It was a perfectly enlightening afternoon, that taught me the lesson that traveling teaches best.

I still have 4 days left in Uruguay, and there’s no sign of slowing down. And even though this trip so far hasn’t been what it’s supposed to be about, it’s certainly one I do not regret taking. And, dear blog followers, do not fret: part of my revelation today was the resolution to write more, photograph more, reflect more. So, we shall meet again soon in Buenos Aires. Besos.

la educacion

i feel compelled to write tonight about the amazing people in buenos aires and their educacion, or what we americans would refer to as "politeness" or "etiquette." to us, it's too formal and unnecessary to our daily lives. but for argentines, la educacion is simple, natural and expected.

i've already told you about riding the subte and the buses, where everyone gives up a seat for the elderly or pregnant women. when you go to the stores here, people are overly helpful, they aren't annoyed when you ask them a question and they will downright accompany you to the aisle you're looking for whilst chatting about the weather. everyone wants to know where you're from and what you're doing in buenos aires, and they are always so pleased to have you.

but the reason i felt so obliged to write home about argentine courtesy is because i recently joined a gym in my neighborhood and i am pleasantly overwhelmed about how comfortable and amiable an environment exists at a place that in the states is usually the last place you are nice to someone. when you walk into a spin class, the instructor looks around the room, finds the new person in the room, introduces themselves and everyone in the class, then asks your name and gives you a kiss. tonight, i took a class called "functional training" and the instructor kissed everyone hello and made routines where we all worked as a team. by the end of the class, we were old friends--and naturally, we all got a kiss goodbye. you can just tell that everyone that takes classes in the gym knows each other and it's such a warm environment. which to me, is pretty much the complete and polar opposite of the feeling you get at american gyms. you feel like everyone is staring at you, you feel self-conscious, and no one wants to talk to anyone and groan when they have to wait for a machine.

i just think these experiences i've had at the gym say so much about the culture of being courteous in buenos aires, of opening yourself up and engaging other people; even complete strangers. every argentine person i meet wants to be my best friend. compare this to the american why-are-you-talking-to-me attitude (especially in miami!) and it makes me wonder why we don't take a note from our south american friends and adopt some educacion. because the only effect it has is to make people SMILE, and at the end of the day that's far more important than saving a minute or two of your "precious" time.

nicolasa emergente

it's been a semi-chaotic week and a half, setting down roots in my new life in buenos aires. last saturday i moved into my apartment in Palermo, and was finally able to stop living out of a suitcase. at least now, there's organized chaos in my oh-so-large bedroom. i spent the week exploring my new neighborhood, stopping in at the outlet stores and the not-so-outlet stores. i cracked mid-week and purchased an amazing leather jacket and a few tops that cost me less than $100 dollars total. i also joined a gym, started ballet classes, and looked into tango, salsa and photography classes. and you wonder why i never want to leave!

last week i also started work at the Argentimes. so far, it's basically been an orientation of the cultural, social and political history of Argentina. and man, this country is fuuuuuuucked up. wars, coup d'etats, economic crises--you name it, they've experienced it. and in the recent past, at that. it's actually kind of funny because the more i learn about this country's tumultous past, the more i want to be part of it and the more i begin to criticize the US. in fact, as of now there isn't a single thing i miss about the US, especially the disgusting consumer mindset and the apathy of our people to question their government and demand action. It seems as though everyone here is incredibly politically charged and opinionated, and that is so invigorating for me that I can't wait to get out there and learn as much as i possibly can. i'll get to cover all kinds of topics, from news and political editorials to restaurant reviews and nightlife. i can't think of a better way to experience this city that has so much left to uncover.

i suppose that after my third week here, the "sheen" so to speak has started to wear off. i no longer feel like i'm somewhere new, and have really begun to settle into my life here. i'm absolutely crazy about my roommates, there is such buena onda in the house it's crazy. people ask us if it gets hectic with so many people in the house but it doesn't at all. we all like to cook and do so together often, and we are cooking for some argentine girls we met at a party this thursday, as well as having an asado on sunday afternoon.

i'm also really crazy about living in such a culturally vibrant city. this weekend there was a music festival at the centro cultural called Ciudad Emergente, which was an indie rock/pop music festival with art and photography installations. it was SO my scene--hipsters everywhere, awesome music and pretty things to look at everywhere you went. the weather was absolutely amazing as well, with sunshine and temperatures in the mid 60s. i went to the markets this weekend and got an old Ciro Algeria book that's bound in leather and over a hundred years old, and some antique sun glasses plus something for my mom for her birthday.

but even through all these new experiences i am having, i feel like the road to finding myself is going to be a long one. being 23 just seems like such a goddamn confusing age, i'm not really a grown-up but definitely not a kid, and not knowing what i want can get really frustrating. for as much fun as i am having, i can't help but feel restless at the same time, waiting for something but having no idea what that something is. i think that traveling is the best thing i could be doing right now, especially alone, because the occasional loneliness mixed in with the accidental connection with a total stranger is teaching me more than any classroom or work environment ever could. i'm living in every single moment and taking it all for what it is, emerging into myself one day at a time.

vamos, cubana!

i think one of the best things about this city is its spontaneity and the effect its having on me. last night i went out for a bite to eat with holly and laura, two of my hostel friends. the weather turned mid-meal and we got stuck in the pouring rain, unable to squeeze onto a packed collectivo or hail a cab. soaked and freezing when we finally made it home, all i wanted to do was rip off my wet clothes, wrap myself in 18 blankets and enjoy the Iguana beer i had bought at a kiosco when i realized my night was probably shot to shit. I had planned to see a local band in Palermo, but on rainy nights like that I much prefer to stay in, and I knew everyone at the hostel would probably be doing the same thing.

I wrapped myself up just as planned and went downstairs, opened my beer and plopped myself on the couch next to los colombianos. just as i was starting to get comfy and mildly drunk, in walks juan. remember juan from the last post: he's the crazy ballerina that is literally mario jr.'s twin. he's a ball of uncensored energy, cursing and yelling profanities left and right, but he's a real stand-up guy and it's apparent from his infectious spirit. anyway, in he walks like a bat out of hell, sopping wet and complaining about the music they were playing on 9 de Julio (it's the bicenntenial anniversary of el dia de la revoluciontomorrow, so there's been a massive celebration all weekend on the city's main avenue). He had more beer with him and stuff for making pizza, which, by the way, was probably the best homemade pizza ever (for all you experimental chefs: PLEASE get your hands on a cheese that's named queso de santa brigida, i think it changed my life). Anyway, one liter turned into oh, about three. normally after a long night of getting stuck in the rain and drinking in my pj's, it'd be lights out. but around 1:30, when juan screamed, "vamos cubana! vamos a bailar salsa!" i shrugged my shoulders, ran upstairs and got dressed. in a city like buenos aires, where the action's abound, where any night could easily become one of the best nights ever, you have to be ready for anything.

i don't think i was ready for how much fun i had that night, doing a HORRIBLE job of keeping up with juan (i mean, the guy is literally a professional!) sweating my ass off, and watching everyone dance. i felt like i was in old Havana, men approaching women to dance, the women spinning wildly on the floor, shimmying their shoulders and throwing their heads back in the air con gusto. everyone was so unbelievably good that it makes me want to sign up for salsa lessons yesterday. i felt intensely connected to a part of me that i hadn't thought about in a long time: i pictured my parents when they used to dance salsa at parties and what not and it made me feel like i was home. more and more, buenos aires is becoming home, a home to that piece of me that for some reason has been stifled for years but is just bursting to come out.

that piece of me perhaps is the latina in me, but also the adventurous part, the fearless part of me that knows that you have to choose the path that feels right in that moment, even if that path leads you somewhere you weren't expecting. i have found myself in a very different situation than i have ever been in, one that has set me on fire but at the same time, one that i'm in no rush with at all. usually, i'm flying full force into this kind of thing, unable to control the urge to act on my impulses. but maybe you could say i'm "growing" in that sense, insistent on being patient and uncovering every layer of this one at a time.

i have devised four major trips that I am determined to take, in ordert o cover Brazil, Peru, Chile, Bolivia and Uruguay. If anyone is interested in joining me for any of them, you are more than welcome. bueno, hasta luego amigos!