Have Dog, Will Travel!

My first post from the ground in quite a while! Well, I’m still in transit, hanging out in the Los Angeles Admirals Club lounge. It costs 50 bucks for a day pass; that is, unless you politely ask someone to pull you in for free as their guest. I went the latter route, and am now enjoying a steaming cup of coffee (light with sugar) as I wait for my 730 AM flight back to Boston.

Maui!

8 days of beach, beach and more beach.

I’ve been a proud member of couchsurfing for about 2 years now. After hosting something close to 50 people in both New Orleans and Buenos Aires, I finally surfed while on Maui! Twice, in fact. As my brother Jon pointed out, “Surfing couches and water all in the same day”.

My first host, Jackie, was actually born and bred in Maui (and that’s quite a bit more rare than you might think!). She lives in Pa’ia (which is pronounced Pa-ee-ah, not paella, as I maintained for most of the time I was staying there). My first couple nights were spent in a hostel in Kahului, Maui’s main population center (think New Jersey), and her place was a great improvement.

Some highlights, via photo/video:

Prehistoric hiking in the Iaio Valley. This spot really reminded me of Machu Picchu. That tall column barreling into the sky is a spot-on replication of Juaynu Picchu, the monolith that stands above the Incan ruins.

Hucking cliffs at Twin Falls

The Commando Hike. My friend Kristin lived on Maui for a summer, and sent me a super-detailed itinerary of everything to see and do. She describes the Commando Hike as "the best and worst experience on Maui". I'll admit, it was pretty intense! The craziest part of the hike takes you through a lava tube in pitch darkness, scrambling up walls and swimming through tunnels.

It was unlike anything else I’ve done, and definitely my favorite thing on the island. As for being the worst part of my trip… I’d say the enormous red splotch on my back gets that award. Next time I’ll bite the bullet and ask a random on the beach to apply some sunscreen!

I tried windsurfing for the first time! It was great! I definitely plan on additional outings this summer in Thailand.

Over the weekend, we headed out to Hana, all the way on the West side of the island. Jackie had a paddling competition out there, and we camped out at a friend’s house. A pretty solid night of partying ended in crashing some 45-year old guy’s party on a neighboring property. I started a limbo competition, which quickly turned into drunk people falling to the floor.

Hana Paddling Competition

And a last parting shot of Maui!

Pretty damn close to paradise.

From here, it’s Boston>Maryland>NY>Europe! I leave for Dublin in exactly one week: not nearly as much time as I would have liked, but my bags are packed (I’ve been living out of my backpack for a month) and my tickets are bought (as of last week).

As tradition dictates, I type this from 35,000 feet; this time, instead of the Atlantic Ocean, I’m now over the Gulf of Mexico, headed from Miami to New Orleans.

The past two and a half weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. Here’s where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to since we last spoke:

New York: I hung out in NY at my Mom’s house for a couple of days after flying in from Argentina. Nothing too exciting to relate from my time there, other than a couple of trips to the dog park. My mom just got a new Jack Russell Terrier. He’s a cute little guy, aside from his freakishly large organ. Seriously; if there was any money to be made in doggy porn, he would be the next Ron Jeremy. I also had a chance to see my New Jersey relatives, if only for an afternoon.

Asheville: From the Northeast, I flew to my Dad’s place in Asheville, North Carolina to celebrate Passover and his 60th birthday. As far as the town itself, I highly recommend a visit. It’s one of the few places in the U.S. I would actually consider living in at this point (which is really saying something). He’s really got a good thing going on down there; we sat down at his local breakfast joint, and the lady who owns it came over to wish him a happy birthday, before inquiring about my time in Argentina, and how my brother was faring out there in Arizona. We also stopped by his office, bringing a cake to celebrate with his coworkers.

Richmond: Assorted fun with the family.

Washington D.C.: I caught a ride from my Mom up to Washington, where I stayed with my brother Rob, who was just named the New Media Director for the Democratic Caucus. As I understand it, that means he’ll be using his CrackBerry (which is really just an extension of his arm, a la Scarlett Johannsen in Terminator 3) to direct the Democrats’ online efforts. He’s got a huge budget to work with, and I think he’s going to do some really awesome things.

I was only in D.C. for a short bit, but I managed to check out a couple of the highlights (which I’d never seen before). That included a tour of the Capitol, including the chamber where the President gives the State of the Union each year. Much smaller in person than on T.V. I even sat in Laura Bush’s Michelle Obama’s seat!

Rob also taught me how to ride his motorcycle. It’s definitely a form of transportation I’ll be exploring next time I settle down. Cheap, fun, and great gas mileage.

I also got a chance to go see the Grateful Dead with my friend Andrew from high school, and I hung out with my buddy Paul from Tulane. The second to last night I was in town, Rob and I got dinner with my cousin-in-law Dan.He gave me some tips on the blog (less bloggin about blogging, more blogging about bloggable events). We also had dinner and drinks with my cousin Kim and her husband Brian; all in all, a very enjoyable 2 days in our nation’s capital.

Miami, Florida: After a bit of a disaster in DC (the Green line goes to the airport? I’m on the Yellow!), I arrived in balmy Miami, staying almost a week with my grandparents up in West Palm Beach. Lots of sun, lots of pool, lots of downtime. The highlight (if it could be called that) was our trip to my Grandpa’s local synagogue for “Yom HaShoah”, the annual day of remembrance for the Holocaust. Both of my Grandparents are survivors. I’d never been before, but it was a very powerful experience. As events grow more distant in the past, it becomes easier to forget them, and that’s simply not an option in this case; I’ll be making an attempt from now on to pay my respects on this day each year.

My brother Jon and I also spent a nice day on the beach with my Aunt and Uncle. In general, it was great catching up with the fam, after 6 months away.

My last night in Miami was spent with one of my good friends from College. Mikey now lives in a church devoted to teaching people that medicine is bad and Jesus is good. On that note, I’m going to sign off to pray away these shin splints that have been bothering me the last week or so. I can kinda dig this “God cures all” philopsophy; seems way cheaper, now that I don’t have health insurance.

Now I’m off to New Orleans, popularly known as “The City That Forgot to Care”. Lots of music, so get ready for some videos!

Airplanes seem to be the only place I feel motivated to blog, so here goes… We’ll see how much I can get down before I pass out.

I’m sailing through the sky, about an hour above and beyond my five months in Argentina. Perhaps later I’ll get super sappy and reflect and whatnot, but for now, all I want to tell you about is my absolutely absurd EZE Ministro Pistarini airport experience.

I had a hard time sleeping last night, and did most of my packing in the twilight hours. Today was spent tying up loose ends, and generally just relaxing away my final day in Buenos Aires. You can tell winter is approaching in the Southern Hemisphere-that’s my signal to take off

So here’s the thing: for someone who travels a bunch, I’m really bad at traveling. Arriving at the airport, dog in tow, I realized that my flight didn’t actually depart at 8:45PM-nope, that one took off at 8:10. Considering the fact that I was already late, I didn’t have a chance in hell. Se fue, it’s gone, but don’t worry, we’ll get you on the next one! At this point, Nevada’s tied up outside, as I try to navigate the bureaucracy that is American Airlines.

OK-I’m booked on the next one, miraculously leaving just an hour later. I take the dog for a quick walk, and return, checking my bag (which incurs a 50 dollar fee, as it’s 5 pounds overweight). Things aren’t looking up-check that, they’re about to get a lot worse. The lady at check-in went through all of the dog’s papers (which required a trip across town to Puerto Madero, as well as an appointment at the vet’s office). Everything is good, the t’s are crossed, and the lower case j’s are dotted, but wait… She checked her system, which tells her that its 17 degrees in New York-the cutoff for the dog is 20. THREE DEGREES IS GOING TO KEEP ME OFF THIS FLIGHT? I think to myself for a second; it’s early April-can it really be 17 degrees Fahrenheit in New York? The woman assures me that’s what the screen says.

Thinking on my feet, I ask about Miami-can I change my ticket, in the hopes I can contact either my aunt or my grandparents, all of whom live in FL? She checked the temperature there: 88 degrees, THREE DEGREES ABOVE THE LIMIT! This can’t be for real. It’s like an April Fools Day joke, but about 72 hours late. How about Dallas? Nope, the flight already left. It looks like I’m heading back to my apartment.

And then, all of a sudden, her face lights up about twelve shades of red. For whatever reason, Miami was in fahrenheit, but New York was in celsius. Us silly Americans don’t do much with the metric system, but 17 celsius is certainly a bit warmer than 17 fahrenheit! At this point, of course, as she realized her mistake, the NYC flight was more or less wheels up and heading north.

We put the dog through, and sprinted through the airport, nearly knocking over bottles in duty free as we dodged confused passengers.

I asked her to talk to the supervisor about an upgrade to first class, but no dice-my skills of persuasion are a bit rusty. So here I am, sitting in coach.

On the upside, the check-in lady was happy to wave the 50 bucks she was going to charge me for the overweight bag. What’s more, I’ve told my sob story to the stewardesses, and they’ve taken me under their wing (that was terrible, and I apologize). By that I mean they’re getting me drunk enough to go to sleep. In fact, here comes my New Orleans-based flight attendant sweetheart right now with my next round of cheap red wine. Next time you here from me, I’ll be on American soil!

[UPDATE: HERE'S THE EMAIL I RECEIVED ON SUNDAY MORNING, AFTER I GOT HOME]

Daniel,
It’s me, the airport agent from Buenos Aires…I know I shouldn’t be getting your mail (I hope it doesn’t bother you… because I would really be in trouble), but I’m REALLY SORRY for my mistake!!! I hope you and your dog get home safe!
Best Regards,
Estefania.

PS> I know I owe you the beer

[I wrote this about a month ago, and for reasons of procrastination and utter laziness, am only posting it now. So I'll need you to imagine that you're back in early March, with snow drifts piling outside your window or, conversely, if you're in the southern hemisphere, the thermometer threatening to explode from the heat.]

This plane isn’t for the lighthearted-our ascent was marked by the kind of dipping and diving that would make weaker stomachs reach for the obligatory vomit bag. Let me rescind obligatory; there’s none of the standard seatback pocket fare in front of me. No barfbag, no safety instructions, and there’s sure as hell no in-flight magazine.

I’m currently in the hands of LADE, the passenger flying branch of the Argentine Air Force. For reasons unknown, LADE doesn’t charge the “extranjeros” fees imposed by their civilian counterparts.

After a delay of about two hours at the airport, our flight took off from Ushaia-supposedly the end of the world (more on that later)-en route to El Calafate.

As Chris got on the plane, I tried to take a photo. Security didn't approve.

Chris and I had planned on taking the bus, a twenty hour jaunt involving multiple crossings over the Chilean and Argentine border. We had tried to book a LADE flight to Ushaia while we were in Buenos Aires, but the airline (if you want to call it that) is in many ways a myth. Most travelers have heard of it, but found no success booking tickets. In our case, the woman working the desk in BA informed us that the flight schedule wouldn’t be released until March 1st-not very reassuring considering that we wanted to depart on the 3rd.

So we made our way towards the bus station yesterday, our faces grim with the prospect of 20 hours on a bus that lacked the amenities of the fantastic “Suite VIP” we enjoyed on the way to Iguazu. On a whim, we decided to check in at LADE, and as luck would have it…two spots to El Calafate for today, for about 35 dollars more than the bus. So here I am sitting on the plane, typing away as the props buzz in my ear.

Now on to our experience in Ushaia. The town is making a serious push to attract tourism, with luxury hotels sprouting up across the landscape. We arrived on Tuesday afternoon, and checked into our hostel, which was chock full of Israelis. Literally: in a room of eight, Chris and I were the only people without a Star of David on our passports.

These were the cool Israelis. The ones that didn't make me never want to go back to Israel. Double-negatives, woo-hoo!

Back to thoughts on Ushaia. The city bills itself as the most southern in the world, hoping to attract adventure seekers and folks who want another notch on their “I did [insert backpacking location]” belt. And that’s cool; I was into it too, just a bit.

But therein lies the problem-you arrive only to feel like you’re in just another sprawling, unkempt South American city. There aren’t the feelings of excitement and exclusivity you would associate with being at the bottom of the world, at least not when you’re walking down main street past the casino, tourist shops, and various jewelry vendors.

Most passenger ships to Antarctica depart from Ushaia. The large, gleaming vessels beckon from the port. Somewhat naively, Chris and I had agreed that if we found one of the last minute deals for less than 2000 dollars, we would jump on it. Of course, that number was barely half of the best fare available, so we had to live vicariously through the Israeli girl in the hostel who had made the trip. I’ll be back someday.

Ushuaia, Argentina. You can see the Antarctic-bound ships off in the distance.

Our short stay here was marked by a couple of pleasant hikes in the area-nothing too strenous, as we’ll be saving that for our time in Torres del Paine next week. Enjoy the photos!

At the end of the world. You can see Chile, just off in the distance.

Pebbles and Marbles

Underwater cameras are cool/I am not artistic at all.

And that’s it! Stay tuned for more one month old “updates” from my Patagonian adventure, coming soon to a computer screen near you!

Most visitors to South America don’t place Uruguay very high on their list of priorities, and perhaps it’s understandable. There’s lots to see down here where the toilets flush counter-clockwise: Macchu Picchu astounds, Buenos Aires enchants, and Rio (though I haven’t been) amazes, if just for the photos of very skimpy bikinis on Brazilian bodies. (Alliteration, anyone?)

I would like to cast my vote for Uruguay. Though we didn’t have much time to explore, I was thoroughly impressed by what I saw. Impressed enough, actually, to consider the country for when I (tentatively) decide to return to South America next September.

We took the Buquebus ferry from Buenos Aires to Montevideo-for all of you folks out there thinking I’ve been kicking it in the 3rd World, the Buquebus is the fastest commercial ferry on Earth.

Cruising along at 55 Knots

The trip there was pretty uneventful-after a brief stop in the capital city of Montevideo, we continued on to Punta del Diablo. You may have heard of this town’s more high-profile counterpart-Punta del Este is a “world-class” beach resort a la Ibiza or Phuket.

Punta del Diablo is way more up my alley-totally laid back beach vibe. If you were going to contrast the two using musicians as adjectives, it would be Jack Johnson and Daft Punk. I prefer the former any day of the week. PdD (us Americans need acronyms for everything) is a small fishing village that just started embracing tourism about 10 years ago. It’s one of those places that hasn’t made it into the Lonely Planet yet-the kind of spot you just have to catch at the right time.

BeachBeachBeach

Another plus is that most visitors are Argentine. It was really interesting to get to know Porteños outside of Buenos Aires. I made more Argentine friends in a week in Uruguay than I have in three months in Buenos Aires. I guess sun and the beach will do that to you.

One of the best parts of the trip was our accommodation. My mom works with a Uruguayan-American, and her mother-prepare for randomness-owns a cabaña resort in Punta del Diablo. Though unfortunately she couldn’t be there, her staff showed us incredible hospitality.

Our Cabana

We made tons of friends at the local hostel. A 26 year old American guy named Brian opened up El Diablo Tranquilo (the Calm Devil) last year, and the place has found tons of success. Maybe a bit too much success, in fact-things seem to be really stressful. I used to dream of opening up a hostel down here (and coincidentally, my name was always Tranquilo), but after seeing how crazy the day to day grind is, I’m glad i gave it up. Maybe someday?

Most of our time was spent soaking up fierce primals, but we tried surfing one day as well. The last time I’d done it was Australia back in 2004-maybe I’ve lost some skill in my old age, but I didn’t come close to standing up this time.

surf

We also threw a raging asado-about 10 folks from the hostel came and ate, drank, smoked, and talked late into the night.

A Truly International Crew

All in all, the trip was a blast. Being back in Buenos Aires now makes me itch to get back on the road. I’ve settled into a somewhat boring routine here of work and play, and there’s so much to see in Argentina. We’re making plans for Cordoba and Rosario, and there are other ideas in the mix as well. We’re definitely meeting up near the Iguazu Falls in 2 weeks, and after that Patagonia. Yeeeeehaw!

It’s 5:09 AM here in hot, sticky Buenos Aires, Argentina, and I’m having trouble sleeping. I face a serious dilemma: do I open the windows to invite in the cool breeze (accompanied by a legion of ferocious mosquitoes), or suffer through the night skin intact, but stuck to the sheets with only a ceiling fan to push the hot air back and forth?

I already know the answer; opening the windows would be a recipe for yet another lost night of sleep (though that’s more or less what I’m already headed for). So they’ll remain closed, I’ll remain awake, and slumber will remain elusive. If I do finally doze off, I’ll probably dream of central air conditioning.

Perhaps you can tell from my tone that I’m ready to leave BA-it’s been 3 months, and I haven’t ventured more than 5 miles from my apartment. I’m normally a fairly restless person, and when you add pollution, traffic, and Buenos Aires’ 14 million people to the mix, I’m downright ready to get the *$#@ of here.

My visa runs up on the 7th of February, so that somewhat forces the issue. Argentina issues American tourists 90 day stamps; renewal requires just a quick trip across the Rio Plate to Colonia, Uruguay. Indeed, I’ve heard waiting in the customs line takes more time than riding the ferry. My friend Chris from Colorado is arriving in about 8 hours, and on Wednesday, we’ll be headed across the border to a beach for about a week. Maybe more, maybe less. My roommate Alaric will be taking care of the dog, I’ll have my brand new super duper laptop to work from, and the sun will shine brightly (I’ll remember to wear sunscreen).

Post Uruguay, we’ll likely be headed down to Patagonia-Ushaia, Calafate, and Tierra del Fuego. I collectively refer to the region as “el culo del mundo”. Translate it.

Post culo del mundo, Iguacu Falls is next, on the border of Brazil and Argentina. I’ll be meeting up with two friends (and former roommates) from college, Cate and Lucien. All in all, things are good. I watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button today-it made me miss New Orleans. Plans now are to head there for JazzFest at the end of April. I’ll keep you posted.

Sorry for the lack of updates-I’m an abject failure, I realize it, I’m doing my best to change it. Look for more updates soon.

Seriously, I am absolutely amazed by what I was just able to accomplish for 4 dollars per month, and with a time investment of approximately 5 minutes.

I now have an American telephone number that anyone in the States can call for free (provided you have long distance, and are not living in 1987). I have unlimited minutes, so call me to philosophize, give me  real-time play by play as various vegetables grow in your garden, complain about coworkers/spouses… whatever you need me for, I’m here!

The five calls a day I’ll be receiving from my Mom in the near future are going to make me regret this, but here’s my number:

504 684 4648

I’d love to hear from you!

Warning: this is a long one.

At my first girlfriend's wedding in September: if that's not a life-changing moment, what is?

Posting a guide to making powerful, definitive New Year’s Resolutions seems to be the thing to do-nearly every major blogger on the Net has offered this kind of advice in the past couple of weeks. Here are suggestions from the blogs I read daily:

My friend Alan from The 9 to 5 Alternative put up a post one year ago exploring the benefits of setting concrete, quantifiable goals. Here is an excerpt:

“Instead of “getting in better shape,” why not try to run a mile under 7 minutes or do 20 pull-ups without stopping? Instead of “eating better,” cook a balanced meal at home twice a week. If you want to do something advantageous for your life, there’s probably a way to quantify it. Goals that are well-defined are much easier to tackle psychologically!”

J.D. from Get Rich Slowly, a practical financial planning blog offers, a similar post, emphasizing the creation of goals, rather than resolutions. I tend to agree with this approach; in my opinion, resolutions are made to be broken. I recognize that my will power isn’t the strongest, so I need concrete, tangible goals.

Finally, Chris Guillebeau, author of the The Art of Non-Conformity (highly recommended as my favorite blog on the Net), encourages folks to conduct an annual review of the past year, before setting out on the path towards success after the clock strikes midnight. This makes sense. Why not correct previous mistakes, before adding potential errors onto the pile with new, sweeping resolutions?

So without further ado, read on for my annual review and plans for 09.

What went well in 2008:

1. I graduated from college, finally freeing myself from the past 17 years of forced bondage to the classroom. Of course, now that I’m done, I see education in an entirely new light, and look forward to someday returning to it.
2. I’ve finally realized a degree of success with my SEO consulting, and there’s encouraging, sustainable growth on the horizon. After experimenting with several different business models, I’ve created something that begins to transform what I’m doing from a service into a product. This is essential for “scalability”-if you need to constantly tailor your service to fit each client, the roadblocks to substantial, geometrical growth are impossibly high.
3. I spent the summer in Boulder, Colorado, making tons of new friends that I hopefully will keep in touch with for a long time. In fact, my buddy Chris is coming down to BA in just a few weeks.
4. I successfully moved to Buenos Aires for the summer (winter for most of you folks freezing in the Northern Hemisphere), dog in tow. I’ve set myself up with a solid base here, and improved my Spanish to the point of comfort (with fluency looming in the distance).
5. I’ve curbed my alcohol consumption, and am now just your average “social drinker”.

What didn’t go well in 2008:

1. I didn’t graduate college; though I walked across the stage, I remain two credits short of a diploma (ie, 98.5% of the way to 120 credits). A severe disconnect has developed-participating in the graduation ceremony has convinced me that I have a bachelor’s degree, but the Tulane Registrar begs to differ.
2. My main side project of 2008 flopped, taking about 4,000 dollars down the drain with it. Real Abroad was a great idea-the problem lay in my execution. At the same time, the lessons I took from it were well worth the money. Learning these lessons at 22, rather than 32 or 42 or 52, was priceless.
3. I flirted with serious exercise several times, going as long as three months before quitting.
4. I spent about 2 months at home (ie, Westchester) in September and October in between my summer in Boulder, CO and my summer in Buenos Aires. (Love you, Mom). That was my longest stretch since I graduated high school in 2004.
5. I started strong with this blog in November, but have since let it falter.

Planning for Next Year

From The Art of Nonconformity:

“Next, I start looking towards the future, based on goals that are set by category. Here are the categories that I use:

Writing, Business, Friends & Family, Service, Travel, Spiritual, Health, Learning, Financial (Earning), Financial (Giving), Financial (Saving)“

Here’s my list:

Writing:

1. Outside of the writing I do for clients, this blog has to be number one. That means posts at least twice a week. I know this can be a useful, interesting resource for others if I put the necessary work in. I’m doing interesting things, and I can express them well, so if I make it a priority, I should be able to find success. I’m hoping for 100 readers subscribed by RSS when 2010 (2010?!?!) rolls around in 12 months. By February, I hope to have completed a redesign of the blog as well.
2. I should be doing more personal writing. The one resolution that I can remember from 2008 was to have a short story published on the back page of the NYT Magazine. I submitted two pieces, but obviously they weren’t good enough. I’ll need to do much more. I plan to post these pieces on the blog.

Health:

1. Maintain constant physical fitness regimen (minimum of exercising 3x per week), even when traveling.
2. Get back to my peak physical form (circa lacrosse season 2003, junior year of high school). This one isn’t as concrete as I would like, but it’s a start.
3. Run a half-marathon.
4. Start yoga.

Travel:

1. Continue to realize my dream of the Endless Summer, residing in the Northern Hemisphere June/July and the Southern Hemisphere December/January.
2. Though these plans have yet to be defined, I’m hoping to purchase a Round the World ticket for this June, July, and August. If that doesn’t work out, I plan on spending at least 2 months in the Northern Hemisphere outside of the States, in either Europe or Southeast Asia.
3. Whatever happens, I hope to hit 10 new countries in 2009. That seems like a pretty reasonable number, as there are several new countries I plan on visiting in South America before I leave in April or May.

Financial (Income)

1. I have a monthly income target picked out. It’s certainly doable, but I’ll have to work harder/smarter than I have in the past year. That’s not a bad thing.
2. Streamline my systems according to the lessons taught by the “lifehacker” gurus (Tim Ferriss, Zen Habits, etc.)

Financial (Giving)

1. Aside from token gifts to hungry wooks at music festivals, I didn’t really give much to charity in ‘08. Now that I’m out of college and making more money, I hope that’s something I can change.

Financial (Saving)

1. This is a big one. My goal for 2009 is to put at least 30% of my income away for investment/long term savings. This seems like a reasonable figure, due to the fact that I’m living in Argentina. A lifestyle comparable to the one I have maintained in the States costs roughly half as much. Of course, I’ll also be spending time in the States, which will be more expensive. Factor in travel, and you’ll see expenses start to rise quickly. Obviously, this goal is tied directly to how much money I make.
2. My spending has at times in the past been pretty absurd (see Monster Truck, Porsche, lots and lots of money in OZ/NZ in 2004 for reference). I’ve been getting better about reining it in, but there is certainly room for improvement.

The next step in Guillebeau’s formula is setting down the “Actions Required for Each Goal.” I’ll keep these private (I can’t give away all my secrets, can I?), but this list is easily the most important of all. Without action, these goals will remain goals, rather than successes.

So that’s it, for now; the rest of the work is all on the backend, hidden from view. I plan on updating this list quarterly, and will post the reviews (hopefully in a distinct section of the blog after the redesign is complete). Check back for my progress!

I seem to be much better at starting blog posts than finishing them. I’m hoping this one will be different. I have several lined up that are approximately 80% complete, so check back frequently in the next week or two. Later today, I’ll be sharing my New Year’s Resolutions, albeit a couple of weeks late. Again, sorry for the lull-I plan on making this blog a higher priority in 2009!

It’s been a little more than a month, and I’ve discovered the secret behind Argentina’s beautiful girls.

Well, that’s not really the case-I’ll clarify. I’ve discovered the secret behind Argentina’s beautiful women.

Last night I had dinner with my friend Trevor and his girlfriend, Tatiana. Trevor’s a bit older, late 30’s or so. Tatiana’s roughly the same age. It was set up at the last minute-Trevor and I were having drinks, he got a call, a few minutes later we were sitting at a table with Tatiana and her friend Marita.

I’m going to have to call this a double-date, because I ended up paying for Marita after an awkward 15-second pause post-dinner. I guess this also marks my first blind date ever, but I’m getting distracted from the story at hand.

I knew from the get-go things weren’t going to work out romantically. We didn’t really click, and there was the whole issue of her age-I thought she had to be at least 30 or so. In truth, she was a pretty attractive woman-in great shape and very well put together (like every other female in this country).

I don’t mind older women, but thirty’s a stretch, especially when there are legions of gorgeous 18-22 olds strutting their stuff down the street.

Still, I’m a gentleman (more or less), and we enjoyed our meal of parilla (barbeque) immensely. We ate at Miranda, a bustling restaurant just down the block from my house.

The knives are for the giant chunks of cow, served either jugoso-"juicy", or al punto-"to the point".

After we finished eating, the ladies went upstairs to the bathroom. Trevor turned to me and said in his lyrical Australian accent, “Well, I’m sorry mate. I had no idea”. I asked him what the hell he was talking about, and he replied, “I didn’t know she was going to bring someone that old.”

I didn’t think it was a huge deal. Thirty is definitely at the upper reaches in terms of what I’m looking for in a woman, but not absolutely ridiculous, and I let him know that.

He laughed, and said, “Check out her hands when she comes back.”

As the ladies returned, the waiter came and took our order for dessert. I’m a sucker for Flan-it’s really good down here, and completely counter-productive to the 4 a week sessions I’m doing at the gym.

Conversation resumed, and I took a peek down at my date’s left hand, wrapped around a wine glass. I could sit here for an hour trying to describe what I saw, but this will have to do:

Think back to the last time you took a steaming hot bath. Post bubble-induced relaxation, you slowly emerge from the water. Now take a second to check out your fingers and hands.

That’s the picture I saw swishing red wine in slow, lazy circles.

Talk about a mismatch. Face=30, Hands=45. Add or subtract a couple of years either way, but that’s still a pretty serious gap. In any case, we soon parted company and Trevor and I went to a bar for a couple of drinks. The bars around my neighborhood are packed with people my age pretty much every night. That’s a good thing.

Now how did that happen?

I woke up this morning, and did a bit of research on plastic surgery in Argentina. Consider the following.

Like most other things in Argentina, the prices on the plastic surgery menu are exactly the same as they would be in the States. But wait…you need to slash them by about 70%, because one dollar buys you about 3.5 pesos.

According to the Guardian (a British newspaper), “One in 30 Argentinians is estimated to have gone under the plastic surgeon’s knife”. Eliminate the 23.4% living under the poverty line, and that means that about one in 22 middle to upper class Argentinians has had work done. That’s a pretty impressive number.

A lot of people in American complain about the lack of access to affordable, high quality health care. Chew on this: the best plans in Argentina include a yearly stipend for a tummy tuck, boob job, or face lift. In the States, I couldn’t even afford health insurance. Here, if I play my cards right, I could end up with a free nose job. (Don’t worry, I like my nose just fine).

In any case, it’s all part of the Argentine obsession with beauty. I walk Nevada every morning in gym shorts and a T-shirt, and people stare at me like I’m from another planet. In fact, shorts are pretty much unheard of here outside the gym. Yeah, uh, it’s about 100 degrees here everyday. Enjoy your pants, I’ll stick with my shorts.

UPDATE: Trevor just sent me the following text message (Thursday morning, approximately 5 days after the date): “The Cryptkeeper asked for your number—I didn’t give it—ok?”