It's day one of Nicaragua's Independence day parades, and the worse morning ever to have a throbbing head aka hangover. I feel like i want to wear my knock off ray bans the entire day. Cooked a plantain, hoping that it will have the potassium I need in this type of situation, wishful thinking. Last night was maybe the 3rd 80s party I've been to since moving here. (All held at the token winning hostel- Pacha Mama. I ended up at the hostel when I was backpacking a few months back, it came down to a beachfront hostel versus one with loud (good) music, a ping-pong table, and pancakes every weekend. The latter obviously won.) The best thing about these parties is the fact that you can not even begin to describe accurately the scene to other people. Just one of those things you have to be at to experience. People dress up to the theme as good as a drama squad would for a live play, like its the last party on earth, like its New Years on 1999 and the 'Party like its 1999' song is playing in the background. Its good crazy. You know when you dance in your bedroom when no one is looking, (or maybe your dog and cat are staring at you like you're crazy), and how happy you feel when you're laughing out loud and its so funny you don't even care how loud you are, well blend those feelings together, that's how an 80s themed hostel party with funny characters and good friends feels like. At least that's my best shot at a description.
So despite my head pounding it was a fun night. You know its right when you can dance without caring, you know you're happy when you whistle more, you know you're alive when you've pushed yourself. All for today, on to feeling as good on the outside as I do on the inside.
PS: for a good story visit
http://www.markbarry.com/lawnchairman.html and
Robert Fulghum is a genius.
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