Middle School Journal

I went to Vegas last weekend, and it was pretty awful. Vegas is built on illusions and facades… the whole foundation of Vegas is petty mirror tricks. 

At least Tucson is authentic to itself. At least we keep part of our Wild West identity by having a bunch of fuck-ups. The typical rebel-without-a-fuckin’-cause kind of kids that just are and don’t do. Vegas tries to say that it just is, but really it does. If Phoenix / Tucson are Los Angeles minus all the good parts, then Vegas is Tucson without the ironically cool parts. 

I went to a party with my friend B that was “booty-shorts themed.” Needless to say, the majority of the party was weird indie chicks and indie gays. A lot of them were getting Ph.D’s in random stuff like Linguistics. It was very cool to talk to people about academics stuff. The funny thing is they were the type of people to use a Spanish accent when pronouncing “Spanish words.” I always get freaked out when non-Latino people go out of their way to pronounce “tortilla” like a native Spanish speaker would. I met some awesome people that had done the Mexico City to Buenos Aires backpacking trip. It sounded awesome. I think Tucson has very interesting people, and I’m starting to see it as a gateway to Latin America. There are people (esp in Phoenix) that reject this fact about Arizona, because it’s not “American.” Why is it so hard for the South West to accept the duality of its existence? In other words (and yes, I know I’m sounding ridiculous) why can’t Arizona be the new MESTIZA? 

This is “La plus belle pour aller danser” by Sylvie Vartan. The song is about looking hotter than the chick your man left you for. I can definitely relate to the feeling of rejection and desperation in this song: the feeling that you have to prove that dude made the wrong choice. It’s the feeling of wanting acceptance and to be loved after rejection. 

Tonight I hung out with Caitlin on top of a parking garage, drinking Blue Moon, and watching fireworks. We listened to “Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus to get is in the “AMERICA! FUCK YEAH!” mood. I was actually going to make a post about Tucson, and I searched and searched for a song to post. I guess it’s a cop out having Sylvie on here, but she felt more appropriate than the other stuff I had lined up. My friend Elise suggested some prog rock. I was looking for some twangy sad western that one would hear at two a.m. at Waffle House. 

What is Tucson to me? Tucson will always be my home. As much as I love to hate it, I will always love it deep down. I will always love being able to find cheap Mexican food at three in the morning after a rough night. I like the feeling of urban sprawl mixed with the old pueblo. I love the idea of Tucson being a contemporary version of the Wild West. The desert is spread with a sort of sadness that I can’t describe.