October 20th, 2009

mittens in the morning

this is my morning. it is not morning in my little slice of medellin colombia until all this happens.

come in and make a lot of noise. apparently mommy didn't give you enough attention so hoot whistle and roar when you enter a room or building.that you're seeking what is the attention of mostly men seems to be lost to you.

address one another as ,basically, in spanish,' my n-word' and look surprised when someone tells you to fucking quit that shit because you're all fucking white and it's offensive. shrug and continue doing it. because no one else in america could possibly understand spanish but someone you can visually identify as latino. be particularly annoyed when we speak french and you do not understand even though you have no problem rudely speaking only in spanish around non spanish speakers.it's all about you.

make cups of coffee with those little cocktail dried toasts floating in it. or badger the bakery endlessly for croissants and pout and become surly if we don't have any. we're here to feed you, after all, it's all about you. customers? what customers?

listen to this everyday at sunrise: a song by what sounds like drunk mexicans with a rooster crowing throughout. drunk mexicans. roosters. drunk mexicans? roosters?sometimes they play a colombian song with the rooster but they quickly go back to the mexican one because the colombians like that one best.

i've been sick, my glasses broke in half and my contact lens prescription is wrong- which explains why i never wanted to wear them.

and the good news is that the miss culpurnia/pebbles is actually a Grizelda.