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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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Livin' la vie folle

Today is Cinco de Mayo, and eventhough I am Mexican and French, I couldnít care less.

In my family, we never celebrated the holiday. I asked my mother one time why it was that we didnít observe it in any way, shape or form, and she said something like, ďla plebe.Ē Is it any wonder I turned out the way I did when my motherís explanation for not going to see a parade was the plebeians?

Itís funny now when I think about it. How can the plebs be a sufficient explanation for a kid? It was enough to scar me for life and turn me off of all parades, civic functions or gatherings of any kind. Actually, even if my mother hadnít been a snob, I would have turned out one anyway and would have ended up disliking huge public events. Itís not that Iím not down with the people--I am one with my brothers and sisters in the political sense!--I just donít like rubbing up against the hoi polloi if I can help it.

That said, I should take a moment and do something unthinkable: urge my countrymen to vote for Chirac. He is a jackass, but anything would be better than that pinhead Le Pen. Normally I would go vote, but I am not yet registered at the consulate down here.

Vanessa has invited me to some Mexican restaurant in Los Feliz (not Mexico City) to celebrate Cinco de Mayo, and Iím not sure if I will go. Although it would be a good excuse to bust out my new pants! Yes, I bought some pants yesterday at what is now my favorite store. Itís some dingy army surplus place on Santa Monica, across from the 3 of Clubs, and they have tons of Dickies for girls. The place is so beat that midway through my shopping adventure, it started to rain inside on the very pants I was contemplating. The storeís solution was to throw a tarp down on the racks and mop up the water. They didnít seem too concerned with the source of the leak, so I guess it must happen pretty often. The funny part about the pants is that they are cropped (well, on everybody else, not on me) and so fucking Chola! Oh my god, I put them on last night when I came home, and realized that Iím a homegirl, Danny! They are really cute on, and were less than $40 and remind me of some pants I almost bought at Zara in Paris.

After the pants expedition, I had lunch with Hilary at some little Mexican place called Zumaya. We almost went to Le Cafť du Village on Larchmont. Weird how thereís so much Mexican and French mixing it up this weekend, Ďyou got chocolate in my peanut butterí style. I had a quesadilla smothered in tomatillo sauce and it was so yummy and reminded me that I know how to make that (and itís really easy, and thereís a latino grocery right around the corner and they have tons of tomatillo!) I just need to find a purveyor of decent tortillas.

9:26 a.m. - 2002-05-05

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