Well, I've found one must-see place for my return to Argentina! From Frommer's:
Best Restaurant for Kids: Garbis, Scalabrini Ortiz, at Cervio (tel. 11/4511-6600), is an Armenian restaurant chain, with what one British expat friend of mine loves to call a "jumpee castle" where she can bring her kids. The best one is in Palermo Soho, and adults can eat in peace while the kids entertain themselves on the indoor playground.
Seriously, if they had this in the US, I probably would have eaten some Armenian food besides pilaf as a child.
On an unrelated note, I've realized that Georgetown's collapse this season is not due to talent, coaching, or luck, but rather to my return to the University. You see, I was part of the lucky class of 2005, whose 4 year career at Gtown was sandwiched between two Sweet Sixteen appearances. What occurred in between? Well, my freshman year, the then-coach declined an invitation to the NIT. The next year, he accepted it, and they lost in the finals. My junior year saw the Hoyas make the impressive achievement of not making the Big East tournament. Nothing of interest happened my senior year, but there was no NCAA appearance.
Hoya Saxa, everyone!
I finally had success requesting a song at kickball last night, although my first question ("Do you have any Pat Benatar?") received a "no" response, he did have some Eddie Money (and what kind of DJ has Eddie Money and not Pat Benatar?). The bar seemed to enjoy "Take Me Home Tonight" almost as much as Journey and Miley Cyrus. Again, the jukebox on the top floor is the place to go, especially after the waiter puts in a bunch of money. We're friends now, though, so it's cool.
We lost again, but I had a heroic sacrifice kick that advanced one runner from 1st to 3rd. There were cops stationed behind homeplate the entire game, but after another team bribed them with candy, they apparently said, "Oh, go ahead and drink and have fun, we don't care." I have to wonder what they were doing there, then, because aren't there bigger problems in this city than cleaning up the kickball leagues? Or chaperoning them?
Anyway, one teammate tried to get me to join this running group that involves drinking, but I draw the line at actual athletics. My people are not runners; there's a reason Armenians only medal in weightlifting and wrestling.
I am out of town this weekend for my family's annual Crab Feast. Now, you may be saying, "Isn't Armenia landlocked? Why would you have a reunion centered around seafood?"*
My family is a bit odd.
Anyway, I hope a gathering of 60 Armenians and Armenian-lovers will generate some good stories, even if I have to take things into my own hands and double the amount of tequila in the margaritas.**
*You are most likely not saying this, as the vast majority of you likely don't know where Armenia is. I don't fault you for that.
**We're also part Mexican***
***Not really. But, yes, sort of.
While cleaning out my parents' house today, I found an Armenian-language newspaper from 1968. It proudly proclaims itself "THE OLDEST AND LARGEST ARMENIAN DAILY IN USA -ISSUED DAILY EXCEPT MONDAY, THE DAY FOLLOWING HOLIDAY & 2 WEEKS IN JULY."
My people and I have a very loose definition of "daily."
I saw a link to a story that was labeled "Swedish wrestler throws away medal in Olympic hissy fit." Two of my best friends are of Swedish descent, so I clicked on the link, giggling to myself about how I'd send it to them and ask what was wrong with their people. Then I saw the name of the Olympian.
JESUS CHRISTMAS! STOP MAKING US LOOK BAD!
But seriously, what were the odds of that? Someone tell me how many Armenians there are in Sweden.
I would like to point out that, as of this morning, Armenia has two medals, which is more than 180 countries. This is exciting because my people are not the most athletic of the world's ethnic groups.
