#18: *screams*

I suppose the most fitting way to describe my emotional state from the last two weeks would be through a singular meme, so here we go:

Where does one even begin when the weight of the world feels so unbearable it’s a challenge to find the words to articulate the pain, not to mention the energy to seek out respite or joy?

Excuse the pessimistic and disjointed tone of this week’s newsletter. I promise that it does include some bright bits, minutiae to which we can cling for a break from the bleakness of it all. But I’d be remiss not to use this space to let you in to what’s really brewing in my heart and mind as of late.

Before we dive in, let’s take a moment to celebrate the start of jacaranda season!! The city is blanketed in lilac blooms and my serotonin levels remain stable as a result.

💁‍♀️ Baby Goes Viral, Remembers How Much Internet Men Hate Women

Last week I received a DM from a producer at Blender, one of Argentina’s leading streaming platforms, asking me if I’d like to participate in their marathon coverage on election night. For some stupid reason, I said yes.

In hindsight, I’m not sure if the invitation was intended a set up - being lured into the lion’s den, you know - or if things simply took a turn for the picante by chance. Either way, it left me feeling exposed and pissed off, yet ultimately proud for standing my ground.

While I was familiar with Blender by name I wasn’t aware of just how bro-y and gross the majority of its content and creators truly are. I thought I was being asked to join a laid-back, kind of silly, but more or less balanced panel to share my election night POV as a U.S. citizen living in Argentina.

I was a little nervous, but excited for the exposure, hoping that I’d be witty yet profound, or at least be candid in a space that was willing to listen. After all, I was the only American there and naively assumed they’d either give me a chance or respect my opinion.

Instead, I ended up getting into a debate with a man who’s a respected economist and absolutely insufferable Internet personality who has been given way too much airtime over the last several years. I was gagged AND gooped to realize that I was surrounded by Trump supporters - or at least, right-leaning and/or very anti-progressive people - ballsy enough to deny climate change without being challenged whatsoever. They also didn’t seem to care at all about January 6th but, sure.

The whole thing turned so bizarre so suddenly. It lasted all but a few minutes, a mere blip on the radar of the universe. But I genuinely couldn’t fathom feeling like an outlier when mentioning the critical situation for women’s rights in the United States, how the MAGA universe is essentially a cult that blindly follow its leader, or why it’s important to have policies that protect the environment.

Instead, I was ridiculed and dismissed as a far-left (!! lol) feminist airhead.

While it felt good to challenge the other panelist, his army of trolls instantly attacked me for everything, from my accent to my appearance. I found it ironic that in a place like Argentina, where much of our lexicon and Internet-speak includes English terms, so many people would freak out at my using the word “clout” or accidentally saying “North Carolina” instead of Carolina del Norte.

I left the studio flustered but buzzed, feeling anything but defeated and like I actually had some fun with the experience? After all, I know the rules of the game - when you put yourself out there, you’re agreeing to terms and conditions of which you aren’t even entirely aware.

However, I didn’t expect that 10-minute cruce to be one of the most-commented segments of the whole night. The economist/boomer buffoon (I’m not naming him on purpose because fuck that guy) was happy to share and re-share clips of our debate, doing exactly what I’d called him out on earlier — looking for clout, for clicks, for validation from his entourage of bros who feel put out by the universe and who would rather send a woman rape threats (yes, this happened to me) than go to therapy and unpack their baggage.

The ordeal was more discouraging than I had anticipated. I know, I know, hablar es gratis, you shouldn’t ever read the comments, and the Elon-worshipping scum that runs rampant on Twitter don’t deserve my attention, energy, or tears.

But given the election results - which shouldn’t have come as a surprise but still managed to leave me in shock - it left a very sour taste in my mouth. To see how easy it was for so many people (and yes, they were 99% men) to throw out the most vile and wicked insults and comments… it’s heartbreaking to realize it’s that much easier for them to hate you just because you’re a woman.

Luckily, amidst the shitstorm I received dozens of messages of support from friends, followers, and Internet strangers. It was validating to hear that my stance was legitimate, rational, and echoed by others. To receive kudos for standing up to a guy that’s been given far too much leeway when it comes to having a voice on too many platforms. To feel some encouragement and empathy when I’d all but given up on the state of the world (and still kinda have).

There are far worse things happening across the world right now, so I’m aware that being vilified by Argentine incels for a day or two feels a lot like a true First World Problem™️.

Phew. OK, I hoping this would be less of a journal entry and more of a reflection with valuable takeaways or insights, but my ability to write eloquently has been misplaced.

⚡ Lightning Round: Distract-a-Thon

Consider this your chance to take a break from work / reality and disassociate for a while.

Go ahead, live a little!

🐜 Argentine Ant Invasion!

Reason #19,592 I won’t (can’t) ever leave Twitter: I learn the most fascinating things, like how Argentine ants are successfully waging a world war and have been for the last 100 years!

Known to be “opportunistic” and “significant pests” that “cause substantial harm” (wow, tell me how you really feel), these little soldiers have conquered every continent except Antartica. Mi país, mi país!

For real though, so many parallels to draw between Argentine ants and humans! Because they’re so cooperative amongst each other, they’re able to make greater conquests and achieve even greater success! El pueblo unido jamás será vencido, everyone! Seriously, don’t you find this absolutely captivating and amazing?! Ants!

💍 Love is Blind Argentina

Nothing makes me feel better about my own life and choices than watching the trashiest of reality shows about even trashier humans. If you’ve been on the hunt for a new guilty pleasure, consider it sorted and start streaming Love is Blind Argentina on Netflix like, yesterday.

The premise — total strangers enter into a fast-paced “experiment” to find their future husband or wife, communicating from pods that shield their physical appearance and identity from one another — is absolutely perfect for Argentina.

Everyone is so ridiculously dramatic (and problematic?) that it makes for superb viewing. There are the stereotypical machistas who expect to attract 19-year-old supermodels even though they’re short kings with dirty butts pushing 50 in acid wash skinny jeans (see below). There are delulu women with ill-informed aspirations of tradwifedom and terrible highlights.

There are tears, there are fireworks, there are tough questions asked - like, are you a Boca Jrs. or a River Plate fan?

There are red flags EVERYWHERE 🚩 🤡 🚩 🤡 🚩 🤡 🚩 🤡 🚩

New episodes come out tonight, where the train wreck will continue to unfold. Honestly, I can’t wait.

❤️‍🩹 Cromañón: The Night of the Fire

Maybe you’re in the mood for a wallow? Need a super-cathartic ugly cry to really let all those demons out?

Enter Cromañón: The Night of the Fire, streaming on Prime Video. The fictional series centers around the catastrophic 2004 fire at the República de Cromañón nightclub in Buenos Aires which took the lives of 194 people.

On December 30, 2004, iconic rock barrial band Callejeros were set to play the final of three shows at Cromañón. Over 4,000 people were said to be in attendance, even though the venue was authorized to hold around 1,000. Less than two minutes in, one concertgoer set off a flare, whose sparks immediately caught fire on the highly-flammable (and illegal) materials lining the ceiling.

In a matter of moments, the space filled with toxic smoke and the power cut out. Emergency exits were chained shut from the inside, an attempt by crooked club owners to inhibit anyone from sneaking in; nearly all of the fire extinguishers were unusable.

The tragedy signaled a deep culture shift and exposed a web of corruption implicating local politicians, police, business owners, and even the music groups themselves. Twenty years on, survivors and their families continue to fight for justice and to keep the memory of the victims alive.

While the show isn’t without its faults - I’d personally love to see an in-depth documentary about Cromañón rather than a fictionalized drama - it’s important for new audiences and generations to learn about what happened. It’s really intense and hard to watch at times though, so consider yourselves warned and proceed with caution.

🏡 The Hits Keep Coming: Eviction Notice

The coup de grâce to the tense and anxiety-driven couple of weeks came in the form of a phone call from my landlord on Monday morning.

It turns out that they’ve sold their house outside the city and plan to return to the apartment where I’ve been living for almost three years. Ostensibly I have until February to move, which is still before my contract would be up. However, with two work trips and plans to visit my sister for the holidays on the horizon, there’s no time to waste.

Change is hard for me, and having to move certainly throws a wrench into things. I love my apartment so much. It has a happy energy, great light, and details that the inner 85-year-old señora that lives inside of me adores. It’s the first place I called my own and where I started my life anew after my marriage ended. And hello? Dos Escudos is on the corner!!!!!

So now I find myself en plena búsqueda, confident that I’ll find something suitable without having to leave the neighborhood, but frazzled nonetheless. Please send good vibes (and good leads) my way if you’re able to. Also, bubble wrap.

Anyway, life goes on, this too shall pass, yada yada yada.

If you managed to stick around this long and tolerate my pity party, I am deeply grateful for (and indebted to) you. Here is a special treat to show my appreciation.

Until next time,

Paige

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