Exerpt from Mexico City journal (part 1)

I will be posting some exerpts from the journal that I kept in Mexico City last fall, because otherwise no one will ever read it and I can't think of anything else to write right now. Anyway the following doesn't have much context but now you know a little about the setting. Please tell me if you like it/hate/don't care. Bye!

Mexico City 1st exerpt:

The other night Lee and I got absolutely trashed. It was Monday, and Lee suggested we get some caguamas (liter bottles of beer). I had 5 homework assignments due the next day (most of them make-up) so it seemed like the pefect way to "quit stressin'" and "take the edge off." We ended up "taking the edge off" pretty hard. By the end of the night I'm pretty sure the only thing I was "stressin'" about was maintaining a normal breathing pattern.

The excess in drinking owed itself to a lack of self-control and an eagerness to forget. Octavio Paz says that Mexicans drink to confess, and Amerians drink to forget. I think Americans drink to get fucked, and three caguamas and can of Cubaraima rum and coke was a good way to do it. We made several trip to the 7-11 across the plaza from Jenn's apartment that night, each time exhibiting an increased level of intoxication. By the third time we were quite sloppy and looking to indulge in our second round of Big Bites, which are disgusting 7-11 hotdogs that roll around in display cases until they are bought by an unfortunate soul. I became slightly obsessed with the oddity of the Big Bite and decided it was absolutely necessary that I steal the sign that said "Big Bite" in huge letters. In a moment of brash exuberance, while the cashiers were not looking, I grabbed the sign, folded it, and stuffed it in my shirt. Jenny's apartment wall now proudly displays a 4-foot long sign advertising 7-11 hotdogs that cost 8 pesos. Fucking sick.