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Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Muchas Grathias

Jeff and I were just talking about last Thanksgiving. We drove Ruby down to Xilitla, Mexico, a little town my best friend Erica moved to 10 years ago. She is very settled there, her Spanish is amazing. She has two little girls and a husband that looks like an ancient Aztec King. I've been down there to visit her about 8 times, so it's pretty familiar even though my Spanish seems to actually get worse every time I go. Jeff was thrilled, and kept showing off his fluency every chance he got. Which was fine, because I got to secretly mock his effeminate sounding " GraTHias" which comes from the Catalonian Spanish pronunciations he learned in Barcelona. Oh sorry, BarTHelona.

The one word Jeff forgot how to say was Condom, which we had forgotten to bring. He went to the pharmacy( pharmaTHia) which in Mexico is basically like a convenience store that happens to sell drugs. You don't need any sort of degree or licence to operate a pharmacy in Mexico, and to buy most drugs that one would need a prescription for here you need only to look through a giant book and point to what you want. The clerk behind the counter is often someones teenage son, once I noticed a baby crawling on the dirty floor and playing with the bottles of antidepressants like they were rattles. Sometimes a dog comes out from the back and growls at you.
When Jeff went to buy condoms it was ( of course) an elderly woman with no teeth. He asked for a propholactio.
She brought him an antibiotic.
" No, for not making the babies?"
" QUE?" she shouted.
People on the street were staring, and he got embarrassed and fled. So we had to make do with the pull-out method, which has worked so well for millions of Catholics worldwide for so many years.
I think he ended up going back a few times with varying results, and we ended up just pilfering Erica's supply and never replenishing it when we left like the terrible guests we are.
If you invite us to your house beware. We will more than likely use all your condoms and leave dirty diapers in the guest bathroom trash can. That's just us, we keep it real.
Today we're going to Jeff's aunt's house. My dad is coming with us because he doesn't have anywhere else to go. He will most likely spend the entire day sleeping upright in a chair, awakening only to make a few puns and eat more pie. I'm excited to see Jeff's sister and a two month old baby that is somehow related to them. I am planning on bogarting the tiny baby, holding it as long as they let me. I may sneak it off somewhere and pretend to breast feed it. I'm feeling strong urges to have another baby right now that can only be conquered by lots of drinking and holding other people's tiny creatures.
I am also really hoping that Jeff's racist Republican uncle will go off about something. It's so entertaining. In my opinion, the modern day racist keeps their opinions to themselves too much. Most of the time, I'm so bored. At the last family function he went off about how the victims of Hurricane Katrina deserved what they got. It was such an entertaining break in the day. I will probably start talking about Barrack Obama as soon as I get there. Perhaps I will say,
" Did you hear about Obama's plan to finally issue reparations for slavery? He's going to redistribute the wealth."
Or
" Did you hear Obama appointed William Ayers to be Secretary of State?"
Or
" Did you hear that Obama used to be a gangsta rapper? He released an album back in 93 with Ice Cube."
There are so many possibilities. Then I will go steal all of their condoms and leave a dirty diaper in the bathroom. Happy Thanksgiving!