life imitates art.

el tunco, playa sunzal, el salvador.

the possibility of amy coming to this place

literally chokes me with emotion. thanks for the suffocation, the good times, amy.

is this wrong?

last night and this morning i listened to music and did practice LSAT questions for fun. i think i just answered my own question.

civil disobedi-izzy

But, to speak practically and as a citizen, unlike those who call themselves no-government men, I ask for, not at once no government, but at once a better government. Let every man make known what kind of government would command his respect, and that will be one step toward obtaining it.

i agree with henry david on this one.

pounding surf.

diamond studded sand. what could possibly go wrong?

quick one word answer: nothing.

playing on the beach here makes me think that if worse comes to worse, i could live on the beach, somewhere, reading books and talking to people.

speaking of talking to people, we met an englishman, two swiss, a french and a german. we played the game mafia with them last night. everyone was accusing the german of being the murderer, and his response was:

¨of course you think i´m the killer. i´m a f****** german. i kill people¨

though he´s quite friendly.

there´s also a cat that we named kidney, through a series of unfortunate misunderstandings of the word kitten.

and a monkey that wanted to bite my fricking face off. fatally cute.

water.

2 tons of water pulling my hair, this i like. and black sand sparkle.

i haven´t been in the us for my past 4 birthdays. and the one before that i was in the middle of the desert catching bugs at deer creek, reading harry potter.

it´s not a bad thing, nor good, just the truth.

three years ago i was on maupiti, with gerard´s family, and alot of good food involving coconut milk. i danced some tahitian shake-it with lamoni.

my last birthday, i was sitting on the stand of the church in the alberdi, rosario ward. i was going to give a talk. i watched the congregation stand and sing the argentine national anthem. i cried.

today i met the first lady of guatemala. they stood and sang their anthem. i cried.

notification: there will be no coagulating conclusion to this blog.

best infestation of my life.

my room was infested with butterflies. baby ones. that grew up. take a look, at second looks. (remember that one, amy?)

this is for amy.

Santa Maria´s big party is happening right now, come if you want. The parade yesterday morning was lovely, cute children, lively propaganda, and a healthy dose of creepy clowns. Last night, Amy, David, Stephanie, Miguel and I decided to check out the procession to the Catholic church, and then the music in the town center. The procession was neat; there were lots of fireworks and the men carried the images of two virgens on their shoulders. It was calm and tranquilo. We walked to the center of town and listened to the sharp wooden sound of the marimba, the music was good. No one was dancing, and no one clapped when the songs were over. A drunk man stumbled toward us, speaking words that only he could hear, and making hand motions. My best bet was to avoid eye and body contact. We continued to listen to the music. I felt the ground beneath my feet bounce a little, not from the music. I looked down and just in front of our row of friends, this man fell down and hit his head--hard. I could see the blood on the ground, and he was not happy. Miguel told us not to mess with him, because he would blame us for his misfortune. He laid on the ground, getting stepped over, for the next 20 minutes or so. Trying to distract myself, I was tapping my foot. A man standing next to me said, you feel like dancing? Awkward person that I am, I said, yeah, thinking that we were making small talk. No, he wanted to dance. That´s fine, I thought, until, while dancing, I realized that this guy probably has a wife, and I am the only one dancing here, with this 45 year old guy. Uncomfortable. The song ended after a few minutes, and I was relieved. He asked me to dance the next, but I was resistant. Then this big guy was like, no she´s dancing with me. And then this drunk guy stumbled up and blurbled into my face about how he likes to dance and would I dance with him. I picked the first option. The thing about the music is that sometimes it goes on forever. This was especially true last night. I swear the second song lasted 20 minutes. The worst was when I saw my brother Juan Cornelio laughing and taking a picture of me with his cell phone. Very uncomfortable. I can´t quite communicate the awkwardness of the situation. There were 300 people watching, two pairs dancing, and me with Mr. Forty Five, who happened to be about as tall as my chest. I got a lot of crap from my family. It doesn´t matter. It builds character, they say. And being so close to the fireworks was worth it. Seeing the original gunpowder is inspiring.