El Dia de Boludo!

Boludo doesn't really translate and can mean many, many things here and is heard constantly, mostly as a form of slang amongst the younger crowd. Like 'Che', or amigo, or dude, or bro, but perhaps a little more slangish and perhaps slightly crass. I think I've mentioned this before, but literally it comes from the balls - swollen balls - some kind of infection to the male ball sack that makes it swell - bloated balls. Figuratively, its just one of those common slang terms, like buey or cajones in Mexico, always refering to the male genetalia - part of the whole machismo thing I think. Even women, or younger women I should say, use it, commonly, in the streets, referring to each other as boluda. Just an overused but integral part of BA spanish - symbolizing a part of the local culture that is hard to pinpoint, or describe, but is always there.

Ethan stops over at the new place for a mellow bite to eat and a chat, after a few heavy days of writing, finally. Then he springs on me that yesterdays writing was "the best in his life, so far," and then, the fact that it was his 35th birthday. A day late and a few pesos short. So... a few phone calls were made, a few visitors stop over and a battle of home-style poker ensues - its his day, what to do - celebrate this painful but necessary rite of passage. Tommy couldn't be bothered, Luis is in for the long haul and then comes Natalia, in all her raging glory and neighborly goodness.

The night grows on and the game continues, springing out of nowhere, but gaining momentum each round, chips flying back and forth like snowflakes in a soft, quiet storm. A week night, a work night... but somehow, we transcend all that and put Ethan at ease in his 35th year. Feliz Cumpliaños CHE BOLUDO! And keep on that writing, your saving grace, current calling and something you're fucking good at.