A birthday party
I spent Friday sauntering through the leafy streets helping everyone in Buenos Aires wish happy birthday to Caitlin. The ultimate in entertainment was watching the nice guy that works at the fruit stand near our yoga studio display a truly genuine smile and whip out a bottle of white for the birthday girl. Que caballero!Speaking of the birthday girl, her self-proclaimed motto is "go big or go home." Well, she did- go home, that is. For her 21st birthday she did pretty well...made it till 5 a.m. After Cait and her little black dress were safely in the building I had the cab driver take me to the bar where our friend Jason was spinning. I have to preface this part of the story by saying that finding good hip hop in Buenos Aires is as difficult as finding good Mexican food in Wyoming. It just doesn't happen very often. Apollo (isn't he the god of music?) was smiling kindly on us last night because Jason was killing us with his remixes.
I'm still devouring Reading Lolita in Tehran and I must share a passage. Here it is folks, your moment of Zen (Holla Abe George)...
Olga was silent.
"Ah," cried Vladimir, "Why can't you love me as I love you."
"I love my country," she said.
"So do I," he exclaimed.
"And there is someting that I love even more strongly," Olga continued, disengaging herself from the young man's embrace.
"And that is?" he queried.
Olga let her limpid blue eyes rest on him, and answered quickly: "It is the Party."
It's not often that Nabokov makes one laugh. (From his Lectures on Russian Literature, sounds like a light read, huh?)
Happy Birthday April Olivia Owen!
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