Fried Brainanas

Man, we've been going nonstop for a week now, and my brain is fried. And there's certain things I shouldn't try to do with a cooked head. Like attempting to get a Subte subway pass at 4:30pm after walking the city all day. Seemed like a good idea since we've been taking the Subte so much. But I just can't figure it out: I purchase a card at a separate counter that gives me no discount but which requires me to fill out a long form, turn over my passport number, address, name and telephone? I thought it would be easy but after the woman pulled out the form and started asking us questions, Aimee and I bagged it, grabbed our passports and split.

We decided to go food shopping instead. Why do I get the feeling whenever we get in line at our local supermarket, that there's some system in place that I just don't understand? We jump in the line with only one person in it, and she ends up taking 15 minutes filling out blanks on the ten-foot receipt that came out of the machine. Then the bag boys put all her stuff into plastic boxes. When it's finally our turn, the checker asks me something like, 'a vio?' which no other checker has ever asked me. We just stared at each other.

The whole city, really, has a system we're trying to figure out. I guess. It's tiring. But so fucking amazing I can barely sleep at night.