El Nobar

I have a four-day weekend this weekend, because we have Monday and Tuesday off from school for Carnaval. Of course, I’m also still sick, and I haven’t started to feel better yet. Friday night I was considering going out, but decided not to in favor of sleep and getting better.

Saturday mom and I spent the afternoon at my sister’s house in Campo Alegre. She told me we were going for lunch, and I hadn’t realized she intended to spend the entire afternoon, or I would have brought something to do. As it was I ended up spending most of the afternoon on the couch watching TV with my nieces, feeling completely the part of a lazy American. I did get a compliment that made me really happy, though. When we sat down for lunch, Sylvie (my sister) asked me for my name in English, and Lucía corrected her, “No no, she speaks Spanish very well.” After I had said a couple of things, Sylvie agreed, and told me that I speak without an accent!

While I was there, Marie called and invited me to come to a punk club with her that night, so I agreed to meet her there at nine. At the appointed time, I arrived on the appropriate street corner to find Marie and Braulio, but no club. No one they asked had even heard of it, so when Liz finally caught us up we walked down to the Mariscal to find a different bar.

We ran across Dragonfly, which Rachel (the other exchange student living with Lucía) had recommended to me. It turned out to be really good; we had a couple of drinks and then went looking for a dance club. I wasn’t intending to dance, since I still didn’t feel well, but somehow once we got into El Nobar, I didn’t feel sick anymore. We danced and drank until 2am, and then took a taxi home. I was a mess by the time I got home, because while I was there, I got a bucket of sugar-water dumped on my head (apparently a fairly common occurrence). It got into everything – my clothes, shoes, purse, hair, camera, cell phone, leather jacket, you name it.
I also learned a rather rude lesson about mixing your alcohol. Of course I’ve been told by many friends, “Wine before beer makes you feel queer, beer before wine makes you feel fine,” and, “Don’t mix milk drinks with non-milk drinks.” But what reason could I possibly have to listen to the advice of those more experienced than I?

Lesson Learned #1: Don’t get drunk when you’re already sick. It makes the hangover, and the cold, that much more hellish.
Lesson Learned #2: DON’T mix milk drinks with non-milk drinks. Really. Don’t.
Lesson Learned #3: Don’t take a hot shower when you’re already tipsy; it just makes you more drunk.

It turns out that Blue Curacao, chocolate ice cream, orange juice, Triple Sec, chocolate liquor, Kahlua, vodka, Aguardiente, and milk are a very unfortunate combination. It probably all would have been fine without the milk.

Us three girls:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1306.jpg

The result of all those things, at the club:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1311.jpg

And if anybody has any tips for getting sugary dread-locks out of your hair, I could really use them. Three washes with shampoo and two with bar soap have just barely made it manageable.

The result of getting a bucket of sugary syrup dumped over my head, two days and five hair-washings later:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1320.jpg

As Craig said, "Well, that'll larn ya!"