almost a month, holy shit!

I don't ever regret going out. I think this means I should do it more.

Juan's party last weekend remains the most ridiculous gathering I've been to in a very very long time. There is really nothing more to say, so please investigate the photos on Facebook. Same with the orange-throwing parade in Guápulo. Ludicrous. And I was propositioned by a clown, for the first and probably last time ever.

Last night at dinner at Mango Tree, I was thrilled beyond belief to eat a good salad with real, non-iceberg lettuce, and CUCUMBERS. Cucumbers are by far my favorite salad component, but somehow here they're not considered standard. It's amazing how some lovely green leaf lettuce totally made my night. I don't get nearly enough raw vegetables.

El Bungalow made my night all over again, by playing their usual mix of hilariously bad/amazing pop from the United States with late 80s and early 90s hits (ahem, "Sweet Dreams"). Jodie got us in the door immediately, without cover charge, by appealing to the bouncer: "Pero venimos cada miércoles, y NUNCA tenemos que esperar!". Fantastic. I've studiously developed my ability to give off Very Unapproachable Vibes while dancing alone, because the vast majority of men in clubs are horribly sketchy, and not even interesting, and I definitely don't want to dance with them, but it's usually impossible to decline politely.

Went to the gym at Hotel Quito, the fancy hotel and casino that's closer to my house here than Freeman is to OutHouse. Convenient as it could possibly be, which is a Very Good Thing, because I've resolved to kick my ass this semester and return to the team faster than ever. I guess the gym at the hotel is really more of an excercise room, but it's housed in this funny tropical cabana-type building next to the outdoor pool. There is a very rickety staircase to a tiny loft where the ellipticals and stationary bikes are, and the free weights, treadmills, mats, etc., are all downstairs. E! Entertainment Television is on the TVs, and Latin club mixes are on the radio. There are cubbies. It's sunny. I like it. What I don't like is the dearth of oxygen way up here in the mountains, because I sure as hell should be able to do more than 20 minutes on the elliptical without getting totally winded.

Tonight, at the free jazz concert at Teatro Sucre, Courtney and I befriended a group of mildly drunk guys who nevertheless were incredibly nice and surprisingly non-creepy. They were passing around a fifth of what seemed to be the equivalent of peach schnapps, except they had it wrapped up in a little black plastic bag so that the label couldn't be seen. I asked them about this, and they said it was so that people would maybe think they were drinking whiskey or something more manly than peach schnapps. Heh. The music itself was hilarious, both because Quito's symphonic band just can't swing (I was really quite disappointed, I was hoping that the legendary ritmo latino would translate into jazz, but apparently not), and because they played everything from "Spain" (Chick Corea) to "Sing Sing Sing" (Benny Goodman) to "Zoot Suit Riot" (Cherry Poppin' Daddies) to "My Way" (Frank Sinatra) to that country song where the guy has a fiddle duel with the devil. It was such a bizarre confluence of styles, but the Ecuadorians didn't bat an eye, just like they think queso fresco is actually good.

Seriously, that cheese. As we like to say, it tastes like goats smell. And that's just no good.

Heading to Baños tomorrow-- I'm psyched to have planned this trip mostly myself, but we shall see how it goes. Doubly psyched about using my new 40L Cotopaxi pack, which cost all of $30. Yes.