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Yep, That’s Coca, As in Cocaine.

Posted by melaniehamlett on May 29, 2012May 28, 2012

It’s illegal to cross the border with this stuff but they sell it everywhere here.

You buy it by the bag and keep the leaves in your lip like a big ole fat dip.

Don’t worry Mom, if you’re reading this, it’s totally not like cocaine at all!

(Salta, Argentina)

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One Comment Add yours

Tim says:

May 31, 2012 at 12:53 pm

Hey Melanie, Send me some please.

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Wow, so today's French class was a doozy! We had to write five questions in French and ask everyone. You wanna know their first question? "When was the first time you fell in love?" I busted out in a menacing laugh, asked the teacher the verb for "kill" and then answered in French: "The first time I fell in love was at age 34... but then he tried to kill me." Whooboy, they were not ready for that answer! And neither was I really. I'm so used to talking about this fucked up story on stage, on FB with you folks, on podcasts, and making it tragically funny. But telling four people you're becoming friends with in person was different. For starters, I can see their fucking reactions instead of talking into the void of a dark audience or the internet. It kinda left me a little shaken afterward. One of the girls said, "Surely you'd been in love before then, right?" NOPE. I cut myself off to love (only fucking lol) and then when I finally opened up, I let a sociopath in. (I've since learned there's a delicate balance between being vulnerable and yet guarded, though it's hard not to cling to one of these extremes). I then made a joke (which is how I comfort the people who might be uncomfortable with my experiences like a good codependent performer does). Anywho, it was a reminder to me how much comedians disassociate. I talk about THE most fucked up things that I've lived through with such ease in front of large groups of people and laugh at them. But telling people you like in person and seeing their reactions always reminds you of just how fucked these stories are. It gave me a huge appreciation for the fact that 5 years after this story (which could have ended very differently had it not been for some of you), I'm living my best fucking life. Someone tried to destroy me and I almost let them (cuz i was fucked in the head too), but here I am. I'd say the only thing I'm better at than humor is resiliency. Ain't nobody been able to stomp out my fire and my hope is that my stories inspire others to get back up again every time they get crushed. There's always something much better on the other side of tragedy. That's the only thing I know about life that's true

I was told tonight I’m really good at drumming! It’s only my second time ever and I love it. Monday’s are becoming my favorite.

I love that France (and Europe) conserve energy more than we do back home. Even in LA, everyone uses freak’n driers despite the fact there’s too much sun and it’s warm every damn day of the year. But here, in even in the rainiest of regions, it’s not very common for people to have a drier. Or not in the socioeconomic group I run around with. They all use a rack. You get used to it and now I prefer it. But on the rare occasion I ride my bike and get soaked to the bone on a cold day cuz the forecast lied, a drier would be super helpful! I spent the first half hour of my French lesson in the bathroom cuz my pants and even underwear were soaked through. Teacher saved the day! Also, they turn the lights off when they leave a room. We don’t do that. Why don’t we do that!?

She’s all grown up now! (In debt like a good American). This was from when I went back to New Mexico and sold my first home (this piece of shit trailer) for a hundred bucks to a friend cuz I’d moved to New York City. It was later destroyed after it tipped over in a wind storm with people inside and they had to use some claw machine to get them out. Or that’s what I heard.

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