No me gusto tengo hombre senor morales...okay now i'm just babbling with excitement.

Today was my last shift at Baskin Robbins...and really, it's amazing how little you give a shit about what a customer wants when you're a day away from (finally) leaving for greener pastures. Actually, untrue....I don't give a shit about their asinine requests pretty much 24/7, but in any case, I have endured my last stupid ice-cream related question (here it is...).
Me: "Plain cone or sugar cone?"
Customer: "I'll have one of those..um...plain..sugar cones."

Somebody please...please tell me what the hell a plain sugar cone is...Can someone be declared legally retarded for requesting this mystical item?

Nevermind.

Anyway, in other news...the miracle..has happened. Some employee in the DMV office has finally found enough pity in their wretched little heart to give me...ME...Nina (or my indian name Drives-like-Blind-Trucker-with-Rage-Issues) a license. I'm telling you, the benefits of that little card are nothing short of amazing:
1) No more fun little drives with my mother yelling (in an indian accent that becomes quite pronounced when hysterical) "DRIVE faster! You're like an old woman!..no...NO SLOWER! ARE you tryying to killll me?!" .... no ma, just the bicyclists that are swarming the road at the moment.
2) The last time I'll ever have to put up with the blind incompetence of the Santa Clara DMV office... honestly, I think that's the only reason I passed. Sheer desperation. As I started the engine, and glanced over at the hatchet-faced witch assigned to grade me....I realized if I didn't pass, I'd have to come back...again...for as long as it took. Anyway, I credit my success to one of two things....the aforementioned gut-wrenching fear/horror of more DMV time, and...the obsessive-compulsive checking of the rearview mirrors (which the drivers manual emphasized ad nauseum.) Backing up? REARVIEW. Waving goodbye to a loved one? REARVIEW. Driving in a completely straight line going 5 mi/hr?....MORE POINTLESS MIRROR-CHECKING!
3) No more showing my passport to bouncers at clubs... (okay, that only happened once...BUT still, that bouncer was laughing at me!).
4) Speaking of which.... pictures pictures.... my passport photo (my old one that is) showcased me in that painfully awkward 14 yr old look. Of course, I can now discard this ID, for my new drivers license which shows me at the equally awkward, but new Nina-doing-a-damn-good-impersonation-of-an-abused-ex-convict look. I realized too late that the DMV office (as one final way to screw with me) is using the picture taken when I got my permit. I can't win.

So with that behind me, I'm trying to keep my excited leaving-US squealing to a minimum, as my parents have already issued the Call-every-week ultimatum. Ehh... a concession I suppose I can make, it's better than having to send heavily-edited emails. As for preparation, I'm spending my waking hours on lonelyplanet.com's forums asking for badly-needed advice. The rest of the time I'm trying to figure out how to fit all the stuff I..um.."need" into one bag and a backpack.

Understand that I come from a long line of Indian pack-rats. My mother saves everything... and nothing...NOTHING is garbage. The concept of "travelling light", to her, is a quaint notion only observed by "hippies". I've been trying to be really patient with her given that she's having some trouble with me about to leave and all that....but it's a challenge. Example: I, after hours, manage to limit clothing and necessary medecine/etc. to a tightly packed bag. My mother tells me to go relax and she'll just "take a look at it." I come back ten minutes later to find half my clothes missing, replaced by a miniature pharmacy, more bras than I'd need if I were moving there permanently, and...get this...YARN. YARN?! What the hell am I going to need yarn for? ...her response? "What if you need to tie something?"

But anyway, this does nothing to quell my excitement. I've admittedly not gotten far at all with the pre-trip Spanish.... all I remember from the workbook is some vague story about a girl named Pepita who needed to study for an exam, but then ended up watching a novela called "Amor y Passion" with her brother. Weird.

And... I'm going to learn the salsa, bolero, swing, and the merengue in 5 wks. In spanish. Whew.

Anyway, cough...haven't really quite finalized my nicaragua plans. And now that my parents know about it, (ugh) I've decided, what the hell...maybe I can do two cities in Nic, instead of just one. Originally I was going to confine myself to the safe, slightly-touristy Granada with all its colonial architecture yadda yadda....but it would be a goddamn shame if I went to Nicaragua without seeing the leftist center of Leon. It still has tons of old Sandinista murals decrying US intervention from back in the 80's, monuments to the revolution, and buildings riddled with bullets! I can't resist. Besides, it'll give me more chances to be painfully incoherent to the local spanish speaking populace...all right!


That's it folks. I'm off. Adios!

Batman Begins...

Well, this post is essentially, a movie review....or rather, me gushing shamelessly, you be the judge. Either way, if you're not a Batman fan, a movie fan, or...are (EEP!) terrified of spoilers, then kindly back away from the monitor, I spare no detail. And I roll my eyes as I write this for all the 3 people that actually read this blog..
Anyway...
It's time for me get down and get nerdy...my favorite superhero... is finally back on the big screen after an 8 year hiatus. For all those who can rememberthe festering turd that was Batman and Robin (everyone please take a moment to make the sign of the cross and flip off Joel Schumacher, the no-talent hack director that buried this franchise under 130 minutes of unspeakably bad dialogue, acting, and well....everything).
But, let me be the first to say, that although Batman and Robin set the standards so incredibly low, this movie surpassed my wildest dreams. I do have a bit of a soft spot for the first two Batman movies directed by Tim Burton because they have a very dark, operatic, classic feel to it and really, the casting wasn't bad at all. I suppose in retrospect, Jack Nicholson was a little too pudgy and goofy a choice for Joker, but hell....he put in a damn good effort. I'm STILL quoting his "I'm relieving you, the little people, the burden of your failed and useless lives!" to this day, so not shabby at all. Ahem, as for the dark night, I'm one of the few that admired Michael Keaton's mysterious, slightly absent-minded portrayal of Bruce Wayne. Okay, so it was a little weird that he was shorter by almost half a foot than his love interests in both movies, and sure, no one can repress a chuckle at the fight scenes. But stylistically, the first two Batman movies are masterpieces, sets are beautiful, and music flawless.

Ahem, the next two Batman movies: crap...total and utter crap. NEXT!

...and then we go to 2005's Batman Begins directed by Christopher Nolan. If it isn't already terribly obvious, I loved this movie.... and not just because I'm a die-hard Batman fan. No, its more than that people...this movie did everything right. It wasn't just a fresh look on the Dark Knight...it was redemption. Christian Bale is nothing short of amazing in this; sarcastic, vengeful, mysterious as the scenes would call for it, dealing with the internal struggle of his dark persona with his public playboy image. :
Bruce Wayne

...

and Batman:

yeah, i know...hotness. Anyway, his love interest, sadly...is none other than WB-spew Katie freaking Holmes. No comment there, I'm only thankful that (with the notable exception of Superman), superhero movies use a revolving-door policy when it comes to female love interest. The director limited her lines to the usual "help", "ooh i'm angry about crime, oh, let Batman do the dirty work!", blah blah blah. Nothing memorable here folks.

Cillian Murphy as Scarecrow was awesome, as were all the supporting characters (all new: Commisioner Gordon, Alfred, etc etc.). The only one who...frankly pissed me off was Liam Neeson, cast as the arch villain Ra's Al Ghul. First of all, not to get caught up in ethnicities ....but this guy is supposed to be Middle Eastern, very nearly invincible, and intimidating. Cough. Is there ANYONE on the freaking planet that could for one second believe that the 6 foot tower of menace that is Batman would lose a fight to THIS guy???!!!

Old Guy We're Supposed to Believe Can Kick Batman's Ass


Anyway, all in all....a great great movie. But despite its vast superiority, I doubt it'll make as much money as prior films within the series. Why? 1) Annoying WASP moms will find the material too "dark" for their 6 year old.... to which I say, "lady, you want campy shit? rent barney. Leave batman the hell alone. Hasn't he been bastardized enough by Joel Schumacher?" 2) People are too scarred by Batman and Robin to give this movie a fair shot. Screw them though, I'm too busy chanting "SEQUEL! SEQUEL!".

I'm going to end this geeky post with more geekiness: posting my favorite line from the movie...

"I won't kill you...but I don't have to save you."
-- Batman Begins

Well, what the hell are you guys waiting for? Go see it. I command you.

Como se dice "Screwed" en Espanol? Anyone?

What's this...the rare blog entry with a definitive topic in mind?? Let's see how long it'll take me to get totally sidetracked. So, some changes have been happening in my otherwise ho-hum life, other than the fact that I'm now officially 20 (yes, as of June 2nd, 4:45 am to be annoyingly technical) and have left my teenage years behind. What a relief. I don't really know why people yearn for childhood days. I mean, were things really that simple and carefree or are people just remembering- wait, oh my god, three sentences in and I'm already talking about something else. Jesus, okay, SPANISH, that's what I wanted to touch on today.
Point is, I need it..... I need it DESPERATELY. In less than a month, I will be doing the following: 1) Travelling to a foreign country(ies) for the first time (okay so Costa Rica is in the same hemisphere as my parents...but still!) 2) Doing every ...single...thing...that crosses my damn mind with no (okay, maybe just a little) reservation. 3) Cram as much Spanish in my poor biology-scarred mind as humanly possible.

That being said, how totally lame is it that I'm going to a latin american country with absolutely no background in Spanish? Ugh, where exactly is 6 years of French going to get me in Costa Rica, except for people laughing and pointing at the fact that I'm essentially butchering the pronounciation? So this summer, I vowed to take on the challenge. I even sidelined my supposedly hardcore LSAT study schedule, to make the long and painful journey towards Spanish aquisition. This includes Barron's "Spanish the Easy Way" book... alright cue the slow-motion shot of me running towards this workbook...it fucking rules. Apart from the badly drawn pictures of well..everything (for some reason, the illustrator makes everyone's hand look like a claw), it's easy enough to follow. I started a couple days ago, and am now on lesson 4.... don't be impressed. All this means is that if someone, for some reason in Costa Rica, decides to point at a police officer and ask me "Es una radio?" (Is this a radio?), I can then proudly respond without hesitation, "No, senor. No es una radio. Es un policia." (No, sir. It's not a radio. It's a police officer.) Pretty awesome huh?

To supplement these lessons, I'm trying to listen to democracynow.org's daily spanish news summary....12 minutes of a spanish woman speaking world news headlines in light speed. After 10 minutes of listening carefully...here's what I managed to extract and translate succesfully: "Iraq." That's it. No please, stop the applause, I can't take any more. Bottom line: Need...help...badly (yes...all hot bilinguals please leave your contact info hehehe....cough, i'm done now.)

Alright I'll stop being a baby. I guess I just feel like I'm on a pressurized deadline...which I sort of am. I guess I have a lot riding on this trip.... The way I see it, these are just some of the consequences if I don't learn a decent amount of spanish before going:
1) I'll be forced to endure the company of my American peers in the program. Not only would this defeat the purpose of going to a foreign country and eliminate any true cultural immersion, but I have a sneaking suspicion that several of these participants are treating this study abroad experience as little more than summer vacation and probably expect to spend their days getting a tan while lounging on a beach with a tropical drink in hand. Ahem, this hypothesis was partly formed from a disturbing email I received from one of the girls who would be going on the July session. It read "Hey peeps! I'm so psyched to be goin to Casta Rica, hit me up if you wanna chat!!!!" Between the four exclamation marks and the mispelling of the country, I wasn't filled with much confidence. But, lest I be accused of judging a person on the basis of one email, I'll reserve any further scathing criticism till I meet the girl (who goes by the alias "Summer Peaches"... i don't want to ask).
2) I have a week after my program ends where I'm completely on my own, and ahem...will be heading North ...way..way North (like cough Nicaragua cough). This is what worries me most. I loathe to take the paranoid alarmist view the Pitt Study Abroad office takes with students who travel alone unprepared, but I don't want to be stupid about this. If I end up taking the wrong bus/taxi or end up in the wrong city because of my halting Spanish or absence of directional sense.... well, I'll have to convince my angry, buff guerilla kidnappers to let me put in a Collect call to my parents, who will probably give them instructions on how to torture me effectively ("First, we'll mail you her old MCAT prep book, then you ask her to recite the pathway of blood to the heart in six seconds! Oh, follow this with 4 hours of Noam Chomsky read aloud!") Okay, maybe I am paranoid. But really, despite the action/adventure aspect of this side trip, I don't want to end up on a milk carton...
3) There is my post-graduation trek to Chiapas ...and most programs that have peace observation there include a non-negotiable "Speak spanish fluently...or DIE" clause. So the deadline is very real in my mind....

But, despite all this, unlike French which had me slamming my head on the desk during high school because I was almost positive I had no desire to go to France, hence making all the years kind of a waste,.... I really like Spanish. Moreover, I know it'll come in handy in the future...not to mention that their insults sound awesome. Ahem, example: "Tu madre es una puta fea." (Your mom is an ugly bitch.) .....sigh....beautiful.

Added bonus: The spanish word for Columbus (my dead historical nemesis) is "colon." COLON...hahaha how hilarious is that. Serves him right, bastard.

Lyrics of the Day:

CORO:]
Sufro, siento, rio, lloro,
callo, grito, con toda mi gente
sufro, siento, rio, lloro,
callo, grito, por que no me entienden

Si yo; trabajo de sol a sol
si ser honesto es mi religion
yo no necesito que me digan
que es lo que puedo hacer, no no que no

Si yo vine de lejos a esta tierra,
fue por que havia escuchado la promesa
que aqui yo encontraria la manera
para poder vivir mejor...

[CORO: 2 Veces]

Yo quiero que entiendan que en mi tambien corre el sudor
que yo quiero a mi tierra
que ami tambien me duele lo mismo que austed...
que sepan que yo soy de aqui como lo es cualquiera
que tambien me da pena,
las injusticias, la pobresa de mi gente...

[CORO: 2 veces]

Sufro por ti para que no sigas asi
gozo al sentir que tu me entiendes a mi
rio al mirar toda mi gente reir
grito al saver que tu te sientes asi

[CORO: 2 veces]

Por mi gente es que grito yo
es que grito hoy
por mi gente es que canto hoy
es que canto pa' mi gente
por mi gente es que grito yo
grito al saver que tu te sientes asi
por mi gente es que canto hoy
canto de mi gente, canto por mi gente eh,eh,i,eh... oh,oh
por mi gente es que grito yo
que no sufra mas asi...
por mi gente es que canto hoy
por mi gente es que canto hoy...
--- "Mi Gente" by Ozomatli and Kumbia Kings