The Difference Between Broke and Poor

I spent the first half of 2010 living and traveling in South America, largely in Buenos Aires. Most of that time, I had no money. As in, I often had to stretch 10 Argentine pesos (about US $2.50) out for a week or two at a crack. I frequently walked five or ten miles across the city to get home for lack of a single peso (i.e. a US quarter) for bus or subway fare. I even went without meals of any kind for two to three days on more than one occasion. Yep, I was that broke. However...

Monster Attack!

Earlier tonight, I heard a bunch of insane banging and crashing in the hallway, followed by my flatmate, Jordan, shouting, "AAAAA! Ohmygod! There's a monster! Matt! Matt! AAAAAAAAAA!!!"

Conquering the Devil's Throat

Most people visit the natural wonders of the world and just take and take and take. What can this park do for me? Not me. I give back.

A couple weeks ago, I traveled up north to Las Cataratas, aka Iguazú Falls, the world's biggest and most impressive waterfalls (depending on whom you ask), with a beautiful French woman named Sophie.

Foamy New World

A few days after I moved here to Buenos Aires, my brand new, extra-special, make-you-live-forever electric toothbrush broke. I hadn't brushed my teeth in a couple days, and I had a date. So, on the way to the date, I stopped at a kiosco (one of the ubiquitous, itty-bitty convenience stores found on every block) and bought a toothbrush.

The Pursuit of Happiness

I have a Kindle. I love my Kindle. I buy and read books on it all the time. It's completely changing the way I even think about reading, which is big, especially coming from me, a full-time writer and English Lit major.

That said, I'm very unhappy with my Kindle at this exact moment.

Roots

I have a theory: most anyone who leaves their hometown eventually comes full circle and finds, creates, or, at minimum, yearns for the best parts of what they had growing up, often with a slight twist. City kids return to cities, but live in better neighborhoods. Suburban kids find a nice quiet suburb to live in, perhaps near the mountains or ocean or a more interesting city. Hippie kids from California move to Boulder. Hippie kids from Boulder move to California. Nomads buy a new camel. And small town kids return to small towns, but ones near their favorite cities to get their occasional urban culture fix. Apparently, I'm no different.

Wormholes: The Hidden Danger of Buying Local

I found a fold in the fabric of space-time today.

My Bucolic Frolic: a Country Kid Goes Home

A couple weekends ago, I went back to my hometown in rural Iowa for my step-brother's wedding. Since I'd be in town for two or three days, I wanted to drive out and see the old house where I grew up. My dad, now deceased, built it himself. It's a pretty special place, really, at least to me. I only expected that I'd get to take a quick drive by, barely stopping a minute before I freaked out the current owners, but I lucked out.