Feeding myself
I can now officially cook my favorite dish : Tasty Rice & Savory green Beans, Carrots & Mushrooms with Peanut Butter Sauce
Recent Updates Page 3 RSS Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts
-
Piterwilson
-
Piterwilson
Hypnotherapy is for people who are open to it
The second alternative medicine professional i was taken to, was the hypnotherapist. She told me to try and make my mind go into a blank and to think of nothing at all. Up to that point the only way that that had ever happened was when the doctors of the SOMA clinic in Medellin put me out with some heavy drugs while they were scrapping off a sample of my rib cage bones just a couple of weeks before. I was 19 years old, socially inept, and as expected, the hypnotic session quickly degenerated into me blabbing out some fantasy i must have had about my girlfriend’s sister. My mother was present in the room. I had unexplained tumors in my body, i had undergone exploratory surgery and countless other seemingly medieval medical examinations and apparently all i managed to think up at that moment was this girl wearing a taparrabo (an indian’s thong), a feather in her head with her skin fully covered in gold dust. The therapist said that this girl would be an influential person in my life. Regrettably she wasn’t, we barely ever spoke and i only saw her once again after me and my girlfriend broke up. We were both standing in line to pay for our medical insurance and we had small talk about my ex and how she was still living in Bogotá after her time in Europe.
-
Piterwilson
random pretty expats
That night I attended a dinner party in honor of a handful of expats fleeing Buenos Aires that week. After having spent in average a year here, there were mixed feelings about the experience but no one regretted coming and despite the close proximity experienced no one was crying about the loss of friends made in this transitory stretch of time and why would they. We said our goodbyes over chili con carne, empanadas, way to much Malbec and a half way finished vodka someone brought breaking the Porteño themed night like a tourist wearing an ‘urban font’ print t-shirt, fanny pack and a white baseball cap in a city otherwise inhabited by stylish and decadent Italian-Spanish immigrants’ descendants.
During this dinner party, and as if we hadn’t had met enough people we wouldn’t really see again, we were introduced to each other’s other friends, a sort of Logical Disjunction of our friendship circles. One of such acquaintances was yet another American girl named Elizabeth who after the ‘where are you from/what are you doing here’ chats had been done with, begun to speak out vividly. Her Spanish was broken and sounded like a drunk sailor but her spirit and peculiar choice of words made all other conversations halt to focus on her stories about being a dancer, about her experience studying in the UBA, about getting lost in what she called the ‘street porteño scene’ and how she loved every minute of it.
Men present were smitten with her, their attention focused as she continued to deal with different conversations at once. Someone please tell them where is the lid to remove the batteries off this chatter box. Someone find the turn the off switch. So much for latin lovers and dramatic chamullo porteño. The other girls tried to steal the conversation away a few times but gave up after a number of failed attempts. Those with boyfriends present leashed their men and made their exit.