Sunday, March 12, 2006
Vindicated at 30 (and almost 30)
We got into that club called Nuts (pronounced “newts”), which didn’t let us in a couple weeks ago.
It was Julia’s 30th birthday. All the way to the club, she and I were making jokes about us not getting in again. We were with four other girls, friends from her Spanish classes. One of them became nervous with our joking. Another told us to stop making jokes because there was no way they weren’t going to let us in.
Someone had told Julia that perhaps we had not dressed right when we weren’t let in. The night we waited in vain at the door, it had been cold so Julia and I had kept our jackets and sweaters on. I had had my glasses on too so we probably looked a bit frumpy. This time, Joy, the leader of our pack, prohibited us from putting on sweaters or jackets at the door while we waited.
Because of the implication that we didn’t have clothes sufficiently mamacita and because we just didn’t bring skimpy clubbing clothes to Mexico, Julia and I on the afternoon of her birthday decided to go shopping.
I had arrived in Guadalajara much earlier than expected on Friday, because the principal and the owner of my school happened to be driving to the city and offered me a ride. (Obviously, things with the principal are not as tense anymore. I still haven’t written that message to the teacher of the courses, though.) I only taught one hour of classes that morning, which was fine with me, since I was feeling congested from my cold. We were off at 10:15, speeding along the highway because Lorena, the owner, had to get to a meeting at 11:30. We got to the city in record time, and I helped my principal look for books to prepare our students for their first communion. I bought a birthday cake at our favorite bakery near the school and dropped it off at the posada, Vilasanta. Then I went to find Julia at her school. She was just getting out of her Spanish class when I arrived.
We went back to Vilasanta, where we had lunch. Martha the cook makes great meals every weekday in the posada for only 30 pesos. Since it was Friday during Lent, we had breaded fish, which was delicious. After birthday cake, we went shopping.
We were going to try to make it back to the posada in time to catch my favorite soap opera, “La fea más bella,” but finding the right tops and accessories was more important. Julia ended up getting a sexy green halter top and cute silver mules, while I picked up an orange sequined “bib-shirt,” as Julia and I called it, because it has a strange little bib you tie around your neck like a halter top.
For dinner, we met Joy and Malvina at the gazebo in the historic center. Julia and I were twenty minutes late, because we had been chatting with people we knew at the posada. We thought we had missed everyone (and none of the people we were meeting had cell phones, what a pain!), but then Joy and Malvina showed up a few minutes after us. We ate at La Chata, where we had lots of good horchata and I had marvelous chiles rellenos. As we were waiting outside the restaurant for a table, one of us noted that everyone else waiting for tables was staring at us. Joy, who is African American, said, “It’s the brown skin. They see a morena!” And I added, “Maybe also because there is a chinita, too.” There was also a güera (blondie), meaning Julia, even though her hair is light brown and not blond, and a Mexican American, Malvina. Later at the club, Joy proposed we drink to the diversity that our group represented. “Only in America, baby.”
After dinner, we went back to the posada, because Julia and I had to get dressed to go out. There we met up with Amanda and Melanie. Julia and I put on our new clothes and made ourselves up (with the help of Joy, who understood makeup better than any of us others), while we all pre-gamed with some tequila from Arandas.
We only waited about three minutes at the door before we were let in. The same asshole bouncer was there, but another guy was letting people in, too. This second guy was intrigued by Joy’s New York driver’s license, which she might have flashed unsolicited. She was used to getting into clubs with waiting lines in New York and was a pro. Then we all had to show our IDs, all from different states. We were also a bigger group of nicely dressed women, so there was no trouble at all getting in.
Julia wondered why the club was so popular and exclusive, because inside it really wasn’t all that. There were lots of good-looking people and also lots of dressed-up geeks, but everyone was pure fresa (the word for strawberry, but it also means stuck-up rich people). We got a table, a bottle of vodka, and some pineapple and orange juice, and commenced the birthday celebration.
The music was sometimes goofy—lots of punchis-punchis (cheesy electronic dance music), Mexican pop, and some funny hip-hop hits from our high school years—but they also played some good hip-hop and R&B. I kept waiting for the reggeton (kind of silly Puerto Rican hip-hop, but fun to dance to), but by about 2:30 when we left, they still hadn’t played any. They probably would have started that music much later, since the club probably stayed open till about 6 a.m.
Back at the posada, we ate some more birthday cake and talked. We were all pretty drunk, since we had finished a whole bottle of Absolut. The next day, Julia commented that I had been a Chatty Patty while drunk. I can’t remember what I was talking about, but I do remember talking quite a bit.
The next morning, of course, I didn’t feel so great. We woke up at about 7:30 because there were people working and playing music downstairs. We still lied in, but we didn’t get out of the room for breakfast till about 11.
On three or four hours of sleep, we went out shopping again. Because we plan to go to the beach next weekend (which is a four-day weekend for me), Julia wanted to get a new bathing suit. We went to two malls in search of one. She finally got a cute bikini in Neapolitan-ice-cream colors, and we went home to eat our leftovers from the birthday dinner the night before. Then we were off to a salsa dance class with Joy. The class didn’t turn out to be all that, either, but I did learn how to practice turns and spins so that I don’t get so seasick while dancing salsa. Then I caught the last bus back to Arandas.
It was great to sleep in my own bed again, because I needed to sleep in as much as possible and rest from my cold, which has progressed to annoying coughs and still more congestion. Of course partying and shopping a lot might have made it worse, but I had way too much fun to regret any of it. I hope my 30th birthday this October is as much fun as Julia’s was.
It was Julia’s 30th birthday. All the way to the club, she and I were making jokes about us not getting in again. We were with four other girls, friends from her Spanish classes. One of them became nervous with our joking. Another told us to stop making jokes because there was no way they weren’t going to let us in.
Someone had told Julia that perhaps we had not dressed right when we weren’t let in. The night we waited in vain at the door, it had been cold so Julia and I had kept our jackets and sweaters on. I had had my glasses on too so we probably looked a bit frumpy. This time, Joy, the leader of our pack, prohibited us from putting on sweaters or jackets at the door while we waited.
Because of the implication that we didn’t have clothes sufficiently mamacita and because we just didn’t bring skimpy clubbing clothes to Mexico, Julia and I on the afternoon of her birthday decided to go shopping.
I had arrived in Guadalajara much earlier than expected on Friday, because the principal and the owner of my school happened to be driving to the city and offered me a ride. (Obviously, things with the principal are not as tense anymore. I still haven’t written that message to the teacher of the courses, though.) I only taught one hour of classes that morning, which was fine with me, since I was feeling congested from my cold. We were off at 10:15, speeding along the highway because Lorena, the owner, had to get to a meeting at 11:30. We got to the city in record time, and I helped my principal look for books to prepare our students for their first communion. I bought a birthday cake at our favorite bakery near the school and dropped it off at the posada, Vilasanta. Then I went to find Julia at her school. She was just getting out of her Spanish class when I arrived.
We went back to Vilasanta, where we had lunch. Martha the cook makes great meals every weekday in the posada for only 30 pesos. Since it was Friday during Lent, we had breaded fish, which was delicious. After birthday cake, we went shopping.
We were going to try to make it back to the posada in time to catch my favorite soap opera, “La fea más bella,” but finding the right tops and accessories was more important. Julia ended up getting a sexy green halter top and cute silver mules, while I picked up an orange sequined “bib-shirt,” as Julia and I called it, because it has a strange little bib you tie around your neck like a halter top.
For dinner, we met Joy and Malvina at the gazebo in the historic center. Julia and I were twenty minutes late, because we had been chatting with people we knew at the posada. We thought we had missed everyone (and none of the people we were meeting had cell phones, what a pain!), but then Joy and Malvina showed up a few minutes after us. We ate at La Chata, where we had lots of good horchata and I had marvelous chiles rellenos. As we were waiting outside the restaurant for a table, one of us noted that everyone else waiting for tables was staring at us. Joy, who is African American, said, “It’s the brown skin. They see a morena!” And I added, “Maybe also because there is a chinita, too.” There was also a güera (blondie), meaning Julia, even though her hair is light brown and not blond, and a Mexican American, Malvina. Later at the club, Joy proposed we drink to the diversity that our group represented. “Only in America, baby.”
After dinner, we went back to the posada, because Julia and I had to get dressed to go out. There we met up with Amanda and Melanie. Julia and I put on our new clothes and made ourselves up (with the help of Joy, who understood makeup better than any of us others), while we all pre-gamed with some tequila from Arandas.
We only waited about three minutes at the door before we were let in. The same asshole bouncer was there, but another guy was letting people in, too. This second guy was intrigued by Joy’s New York driver’s license, which she might have flashed unsolicited. She was used to getting into clubs with waiting lines in New York and was a pro. Then we all had to show our IDs, all from different states. We were also a bigger group of nicely dressed women, so there was no trouble at all getting in.
Julia wondered why the club was so popular and exclusive, because inside it really wasn’t all that. There were lots of good-looking people and also lots of dressed-up geeks, but everyone was pure fresa (the word for strawberry, but it also means stuck-up rich people). We got a table, a bottle of vodka, and some pineapple and orange juice, and commenced the birthday celebration.
The music was sometimes goofy—lots of punchis-punchis (cheesy electronic dance music), Mexican pop, and some funny hip-hop hits from our high school years—but they also played some good hip-hop and R&B. I kept waiting for the reggeton (kind of silly Puerto Rican hip-hop, but fun to dance to), but by about 2:30 when we left, they still hadn’t played any. They probably would have started that music much later, since the club probably stayed open till about 6 a.m.
Back at the posada, we ate some more birthday cake and talked. We were all pretty drunk, since we had finished a whole bottle of Absolut. The next day, Julia commented that I had been a Chatty Patty while drunk. I can’t remember what I was talking about, but I do remember talking quite a bit.
The next morning, of course, I didn’t feel so great. We woke up at about 7:30 because there were people working and playing music downstairs. We still lied in, but we didn’t get out of the room for breakfast till about 11.
On three or four hours of sleep, we went out shopping again. Because we plan to go to the beach next weekend (which is a four-day weekend for me), Julia wanted to get a new bathing suit. We went to two malls in search of one. She finally got a cute bikini in Neapolitan-ice-cream colors, and we went home to eat our leftovers from the birthday dinner the night before. Then we were off to a salsa dance class with Joy. The class didn’t turn out to be all that, either, but I did learn how to practice turns and spins so that I don’t get so seasick while dancing salsa. Then I caught the last bus back to Arandas.
It was great to sleep in my own bed again, because I needed to sleep in as much as possible and rest from my cold, which has progressed to annoying coughs and still more congestion. Of course partying and shopping a lot might have made it worse, but I had way too much fun to regret any of it. I hope my 30th birthday this October is as much fun as Julia’s was.
