I am an American

Some of you might be worried that I am losing my American sense of identity here in Buenos Aires. At first, I feared the same; for instance, I started calling myself a "Northamerican" (That's what we're called here - BLASPHEMY). However, the events from Thursday and Friday indicate that in my heart, I remain an All-American girl.

It was the birthday of one of my new friends, Felix, and in his honor we decided to have a birthday party. I invited every exchange student at our university and asked them to bring libations. And voila, that night we had a genuine college-throw back "rager." OK, so it wasn't completely a Northamerican party - there was more Spanish than English, and we played reggaeton instead of...ummm...whatever young people in the US play at ragers. However, I must say, it was a pretty rocking party, complete with a birthday cake and a rendition of "Happy Birthday" (In English, dammit).

But the following day is the particularly patriotic portion of this post. Victor and I woke up, not feeling particularly well. We decided we needed some AMERICAN food; I was a bit tired of empanadas. After some internet research, I realized that not many American chains have reached South America (yes, yes I realize that is a good thing). But guess what - TGIFridays has made its way down to Buenos Aires. I put on my burnt orange Texas hoodie and a baseball cap. Victor didn't look much better (sorry, V). We made our way to the mall, ate some fried food at TGIF (and yes, the waitresses have the flare here as well). It tasted terrible, but at that moment, I was so proud to be an American. And I also increased my vocabulary: "Estoy de rezaca." (I have a hangover.)