curse you pumpkin-ween CURSE YOU!!!!!!!!!!

I cannot escape Halloween. I cannot escape the noise. I cannot escape the children. I cannot escape the fact that I have never once worn a good costume. I cannot escape the 10 dollar cover charge. I cannot escape the cheap, disgusting booze. I cannot escape the girls dressed up as sexy nurses who would not give me a second look if I were Guatemala´s Latin Idol Winner Carlos Peña. I cannot escape Halloween.

Last year, I went so far as to rent a hotel room in the suburbs to work on polisci research while a (rockin) party went down at my house. The internet didn´t work and a desk fell on my head. This year, I left the country. Then I got suckered into a party at a club in San Lucas. The party was exactly the same as one in the United States would have been. Same everything above. And apparently, several years later and hundreds of miles away, you can still find Fitty in the club, bottle full of ´bub. The years have not slowed him down a bit. Even amongst a bunch of people who don´t understand the lyrics to his songs, he´s stil into havin´sex. He ain´t into makin´love. AGHHHHH.

In all honesty, I shouldn´t hate the playa (hallow´s eve) I should hate the game (my mild social anxiety disorder). It doesn´t matter where I am groups of people scare the living shit out of me. It doesn´t matter what language they´re speaking. It doesn´t matter what they´re talking about. I´ll stand in the corner and try to look like i´m thinking about something. Then I´ll get drunk. Then I´ll stand in the corner and look drunk. Tonight, I started off with two people. Ruben the twenty-one year old son of the family that I´m living with now (these people, although just as rich, are 20 million times better than the family in Guatemala City), and his friend who´s name I can´t remember. We got a hotel, we arranged costuming, we joked around, we ate at the BK. It was a regular boys night out. AND it was all in Spanish. My grasp of the language is certainly less amazing than I thought it was when I got here, but I certainly CANNOT blame my utter failure to engage their group of architecture friends on that. It´s because I suck at talking to groups.

This leads me to conclude that I cannot blame my shitty, shitty october 31st on halloween. I can only blame myself (I still blame halloween, a little bit). Next year, I will go to space. Sober. Dressed in some sort of frock that could never be misconstrued as festive. With several cans of garbanzo beans, the culinary opposite of candy corn. And a monkey. Because you should never go into space without a monkey.

Tomorrow I´m going to the festival where everyone flies they´re kite to say goodbye to a dead relative. I´m planning on taking of my shirt and wriggling a bit (think Pete and Pete´s Petunia) to say goodbye to Pepe. Pepe was a dog that my family owned that was blind, deaf, had a severe overbite, and I´m relatively sure he also had sleep apnea. He had to be put down after he put out his own eye on some sharp corner. He was the meanest dog in the history of dogs. But I loved him. Because he was too ugly not to love. If you know someone like that you should tell them. Except don´t tell them that they´re ugly. Because that would make you a jerk.

I also saw the flip side of all my ranting about adoption. I saw an American family get final bureaucratic approvial of their adoption. It was really phenomenal. Those people were overjoyed. And even if they have a stick up their collective ass, they will be good parents. And those babies are going to be better off than they probably would have been. So now I´m further confused by the whole ordeal.

Still babies everywhere.

Home soon.

Ciao ciao ciao ciao ciao.
-kevinsito.

PS. Kids don´t really ask for candy here. They ask for money. By shaking little buckets full of coins at you, wherever you happen to be. Trick or treating is not scary. Tiny people in rubber masks following you around shaking items that make lots of noise, on the other hand, is FUCKING TERRIFYING.