someone touched my shoulder at sunset as if they were a friend, and when i turned around to see who they were i did not know them. i said, "oh..k", and they said absolutely nothing but stood there and followed for approximately one block before they decided to turn around. the surreality added to a completely uncertain shift in perspective. like paranoia in being followed. then some awesome dudes harassed mike and i on a bench waiting for a restaurant to open. then screamy people were screamy and screamier. i haven't felt so paranoid en mi ambiente desde argentina. i am not digging you, iowa city.

humans are the oddest of all. more odd than a sardine in a can or whitewash. brains may be more vapid than circuit city during its final days in business. there is a photo of mao on the wall that may be speaking to me. it is surprisingly comfortable. he doesn't say much.
i may very well be slipping through a mental crack when i go to sleep. each time i wake up remembering quite everything. the quite is very important, quite everything. they are being stored as memories, and it is contributing to this new grasp of reality that may just be a tuft of hair leading me but not to rapunzel. new york is inconceivable at this point. april is inconceivable. but mostly it is mao as incomprehensible as ever.

thoughts on the animal kingdom or some such

Wolves are very important. I am thinking on the man in Valparaiso with a crew of three wolf-like canines. I bet he is very important too.
Sometimes when you meet a balding dog, you never forget him. This is also very important. While wolves are tough, some dogs lead rough lives and should not be left to the dust!
I am going to war with the cat across the street who is really out of line and harassing my cat. It is very important that I employ an effective strategy on the offense and defense end. I may find statues of wolves and audio of horrible growling and thrashing sounds to insert on front porch. He must be taught a lesson.

I hope to bring the prarie to the city one day. Harvesting vegetables is extremely satisfying but not as much as weeding. I like to think of weeding as an act of heroism! I like to think of harvesting as an act of piracy with loot of VEGETABLES!
I have learned that some families on farms call their pigs ham, cattle hamburger, and the like so that their kids can understand them as something other than a pet. There is a cow you should meet whose best friend is a runaway show pig. I have seen cats play dead when getting roughed up by brutish dogs. I have seen larvae slither in the sun and taken a liking to fire ants! Wild roots, wilder ness.
As little bits of Iowa return to their prarie roots: http://www.inhf.org/prairiemgmt.htm
Free posters with prarie restoration information available through the Iowa City Department of Agriculture (in case I am not the only interested party).

The flu can come at the most encouraging times. Last night, I found myself running in a panic with a stuffy nose and stuffed brain, delusional and sweating. Like most recent Thursdays, I'd come from playing hide-and-seek, freeze-tag across the river with a will to cheat, avoiding the dreaded task of "it." People are much more delusional after an hour in the sun of hiding and bolting, to say the least. Of course, I can find time to check out 30 early beginner books at the library/choose 3 and write an extremely detailed reasoning as to why you chose them including a lesson plan, get my wallet and come back for a long-awaited meeting, come home, write an outline for my thesis, write an outline for my article, write a response to linguistic theory, watch Mary Poppins, and be in bed by 10.
It also occurs to me that white blood cells are worth their weight in gold, which is extremely valuable these days. If that statement were monetarily true, I could repay all of my student loans. Those of you who can handle having 8 oz + of plasma drawn from you twice weekly must be higher up on the evolutionary ladder than I.
I have replaced a music library with the sounds erratic humming, cricket sounds, and high-pitched mews; while young adult novels and nice people at Thai Flavors who will special-make drunken fried rice and lemongrass soup have filled the gap.

Words come easier when the only light around you is your computer screen and the only sound is the fan and the keys being pressed. I am in a place called New Orleans, and it is here I realize I am in the middle of a mobile identity. I am no longer Whitney in Iowa City except for when I'm in Iowa City, and it becomes simpler to understand certain things by Dr. Seuss.
If I had a map or a car or a practical knowledge of riding bikes I would be actively mobile, but perhaps it is best I can now realize I have time to work on the homework of Whitney as a student.

The hot sauce at dinner on Thursday was foreshadowing. Brazilian food is bomb, and sometimes when you order things because they have a mysterious name, they turn out to be the screwdriver you were hoping for. Friday never happened. Saturday found Alex and I early on a ferry to Uruguay. This shall be continued on account of a sad tum.

I failed to mention Filomena came into my Spanish class this morning and gave me and another belated birthday girl yellow candles and a song and me 22 pulls on the ear while her 20. I hope the yellow candle doesn't melt in my suitcase, but, if so, I will have to find a plastic ear to melt it into for imprint's sake.
Powerpoints with audio applause at the end generate genuine applause, too.

Pickled soup is probably something of the future of Lithuania, am I right?
I have been rewriting my notebook all afternoon, and I can't wait to gorge infinitely. Also to dye all of my whites pink.

I'm swimming in a weird pickle soup drinking orange juice to save someone's life. This has nothing to do with finishing a biography on Timothy Leary the day I quarantined myself in the apartment in an effort to save my digestion system and sanity. I like cozy days learning a lot and thinking about analogies to amoebas and youth, also turning car keys and identity, but I will spare you for getting further into abstraction.
Class is coming to a close, and I'm feeling particularly ambitious with a side of exhaustion. I am thinking about the shiny coated black kitten I want to steal, and the fleas I keep spotting from Poncho. I am doing extra wall push-ups because machismo makes me hate most of the men I see. Yesterday a drunk man on the subte made me want to become violent when he was deliberately rubbing his foot on my leg, and today I feel especially hostile in my plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled to different lengths and hot black pants and untied boots. I also hate the police officers and hate itself but more so what drives me to frustration and the fact that despite generations of the sentiment unacceptable actions that lead to the frustration and hostility still exist. This is not the ideal environment. Moments such as these make me want to leave, but it's the experience of the frustration is important to a point.
When I feel especially tough in my outfit, I find it refreshing to smile at the older people (but not all of them) and the kids (but not all of them). Always at the shiny coated kitten.
I went to UBA last night with Sam only to discover they cancelled classes because the neighborhood had no water. We went to a bookstore, and I added to the collection. I can't wait to buy a ton from that collection and hand them out to cutie friends.
My mama is coming in one week, and I can't wait! Finals is next week, and I'm rewriting all of my notes in new notebooks for pre-phase 3 of Buenos Aires, finals week prior to post-class. I can't wait to get out of pickled soup phase either to drink orange juice for pleasure instead of for vitamin c.

i should have mentioned the villa which surprised me in many, lucky ways. villa 31 is a sizeable villa (aka slums) located between an industrial area alongside the part, gracing the giant retiro station, and edging along one of the wealthiest streets in the city (hidden by a wall, of course). the government tried to eradicate the villa by putting up a ramp to the highway directly over some of the homes, but they refuse action erring on the side of progress. sam and i got a bit sidetracked and found a gracious lady who insisted we turn around and use the road on the highway to get to the bridge we were seeking rather than cut across the tiny road ahead of us. that was likely in our best interest. we found the church where my professor was waiting for us. the church was the first built in any of the villas by a very ambitious man and priest. he did a ton of social work in the area and prophetically stated "sueno que muero con ustedes" (aka, I dream of dying with you all). one year prior to the takeover of the military dictatorship of 1976, a paramilitary group known as el triple a assassinated him. a lovely old woman and a bolivian woman told me of a dinner that took place just before his death. it was held at an enormous table alongside many people that included french journalists. she kept saying that the food was so spicy! and even though the food was so spicy, he ate it all up! everyone else ate it all up too! i was charmed. in argentina, if there is the slicest hint of spice, it is so spicy! it is hard to find spicy foods here.
we were escorted by my professor and a man who lives in the villa all along, and, obviously, what ran through my head though most were the images of living there. of course they are quite poor comparitively, but it had a similar feeling to what an average town in the north or in bolivia or elsewhere would create. the biggest problem in the villas are young kids on drugs and theft among outsiders. of course, these things often accompany arms, but violence isn't as great a problem there.
i watched a very intense soccer match taking place there that sunday, and it was all very traquil. i have never seen serious soccer playing up close, and it unlocked something there, in that place.

ages and ages have passed, and i am still here (but the clock is ticking). actually, leaving doesn't make sense, and nothing really makes sense. it is another national holiday. there are enough national holidays to name every m&m in 1 classically sized bag after.
this weekend has seen me more mornings and less late evenings bar birthday evening and that, i see, as progress. actually, winter is a bummer, but the city is still aglow and air's still just fresh.
my birthday attracted many goers signaling success, and the food i have still tasted in my brain's mouth signaling "good job chef" and yearning sorts of thoughts. the peruvian restaurant's basement turned into something other than a basement, and octopus cooked in lime and lemon juice could never be anything but delicious. art gallery friend came with friends post-kung fu which means second meetings lead to third and such always. second meetings despite good intentions are rare, for me, here. heavy metal bar realized chance hells angels encounters. who knew argentina had a charter? it also realized unlockable stares from unshakeable man, and i escaped to the sound of guns'n'roses on the loud speakers. puerta roja brought incredible pool manevours, chance encounter with couple previously seen making out at the heavy metal bar, and another escape into the night saturated with giant land before time leaves.
my endoscopy showed no ulcers and led me to the surgical ward due to ambigious directions and some false hopes as to immediate answers. so the procedure lingers on. i am five books richer and furthermore flooded by endless options. in conclusion, 6 months abroad is not enough. my time is marked.

Last night I met a girl in a heavy metal band who opened my can of beer in front of me and started drinking it, and she said something odd about me being naive that didn't make any sense. And then she invited me to come to a party and a soup kitchen for abandoned babies. This all happened at a funk show with bright polka dot lights circling.

Today was great. More to come.

I have scared myself into procrastinating appointment making or simply going to the doctor because I am scared of anything they might tell me about my stomach. The following possibilities I find most frightening: you have a mutant growing in your belly, you have little sickles growing on your small intestine, you have an intolerance for gluten, or, worst of all, you must try another type of medicine. I need to get this figured out because it is getting in the way of many things big time.
My professor told me he likes my writing style today, and that it is very fun to read. He gave me some tips, though, on where to find guides for writing in the world of academia. Being (hanging gerund time) the kind of girl who takes the "why bother if it's boring?" potion, I find myself wanting to learn the rules of political science writing. Though perhaps I will toss that skill out the window once I relearn the ways of my world.
Push-ups against the wall play nice, and the world is beautiful because it is the world. Today was peaches and cream kind of smooth but tasted more like a McDonald's hamburger and nacho cheese on a pizza. The trick to minimizing pain is water with ice of which I tolerated 8. After threatening to call the police, I throw a bowl of cereal on the floor (accidentally?). Rose and David are so cute and cuddly, and I promise to take responsibility for getting my credit card from their pad. The beast is back, and she's here to stay in the most contrary of ways. Wasabi is best in large doses after all of the sushi is gone, and interviews with James Brown are best watched on repeat. Now you know the moral of the story that which is sufficient to call my bedtime story.

FAST FACTS:
When girls are born here, the hospital pierces their ears. When all babies are born here, the hospital shaves the hair on their head because it isn't considered good hair. There are no basements in Argentina. Everyone has tinted windows.

Tuesday marked the first day I participated in trapeze class with the best partner possible, Sam. It is, perhaps, my favorite place in the city and caused a great deal of soreness this whole week. I learned the mechanics of climbing silk, though, my arms are rather weak and have trouble hanging on for a terribly long time. Also, I hung upside down on the trapeze for a bit of time, but I couldn't scrounge up enough energy to get on once more as the lead up to practicing was very, extremely taxing.
I'm writing a story to Elena that I must return to quite soon, and I love her and am thinking of her and her brother. I want her to know this!
The art fair was the greatest playground. I'm going to return on a less busy day and do all of the interactive features and make my own strange painting and snap the best shots of the best things and sit in the installment of my favorite gallery, Appetit, long enough for the people who work there to speak to me about sleepovers and the movement of the stickers on their paintings, which means I need to learn how to say sleepovers and stickers in Spanish.
A large bag of clothes has made its way here from a friend and has made the closet quite a fun place to dig around in. Though I have been surrounded by some people who have the most fun with their clothes, and it gets me thinking about lots of things and also retooling. I am plotting a way to see a new friend play in her medieval band.
I went to Tigre with Missa on Saturday and spent a day in the sun eating food and ice cream with a cute family in a very ritzy suburb with babies by a lake with swans and sailboats.
I must focus on my Brazil project which makes me think more of getting there than learning more about the economy. I am cutting out Bolivia from my agenda and replacing it with Brazil. Duh?

Art weekend continues in a lazy, colorful, setting-up-shop kind of way. The first wrap I've had in months churned the butter in the oven, the museo de bella arte had a cooling effect, and malba (museum of latin american art in buenos aires) got it back into a boil. Benches had locks of wood beams that extended up and over and twirled and around, and it isn't everyday a bench makes you feel like a ballerina. That was too much, actually, because I certainly didn't feel like a ballerina but flowing qualities there were plenty. Later a human rights photographer of a beautiful sort greeted Alex and I at an art gallery opening I set out to enjoy inside of a room that could be a very roomy walk-in closet. We didn't stay long as the crowd seem to know each other intimately, and it's already odd enough to be the only anglophone, let alone the only stranger.
A punk venue was found and some Punk Attitude enjoyed. I spent quite a long time this morning debating about volunteering with the chinchillas, and a verdict has yet to be reached. I must shake off this sitting in filth effect and keep moving into the evening.

I am waiting to start an art day while Alex is dillydallying in the shower. This week it has begun to get cold so I spent more time cuddling with blankets than I would have originally liked. I have gathered minimal resources to combat with onslaught of the cold which should be of some assistance, I hope.
Lately, I am finding myself being drawn to building on my project for the fall and wanting to create new ones. But which to choose?! I could do anything so why settle for just anything?
I miss the northwest of Argentina and am dying to remain mobile. My goal for this weekend is to keep collecting warm things. Even warm sock things. So I don't get all slow and stuffff.
My computer is broken, and I looked at the sheet the man gave me at the apple store. He checked that it was turned in: dirty, marked, and streaky. You Mr. Apple, have no idea how hard it is to keep the mac clean.
This week has been a bit of a blur. I will be very upset if all of my music, photos, and screen play has been erased. I was so forward to continuing it in the fall! The fall is now. I need to work on a flexibility and strength building plan to combat the trapeze next week and the chinchillas in July. I have reconciled to learning Alex's dj equipment so that once I have fleshed out a blues collection, I can put some things together. Also, to not growing up.

a+a+a+
for the last week or so i've been emitting this weird, hot city smell that has probably arisen from una mezcla of things including but not limited to: sewage release from the sink and/or toilette, too much meat and bread, perspiring people in the subte station, bus emissions, and a phat attitude. all of that green, algae ... no, all of that toxic wastey should be glittering but instead prickles all over a girl so far away from a world of regularly away from fresh scents. this is how i feel at the end of the day, and it's one of those it was hot but now it's cold and shift change moments your physical presence becomes more clear.
i ate tongue today. i got an a+ today. i fell down today. hard and fast. my shoes slipped faster than you could say hasta luego, and before i knew it i went down diagonally on diagonal norte. i suppose i am a diagonal sort of girl. today was the prelude worker's march to tomorrow's more intense, somehow, worker's demonstration. i'm not exactly sure how to predict what more intense might look like since today's marches went from 9 o'clock this morning and are still going here and there and blocked off about a million thoroughfares. tomorrow i shall participate if for but a brief time among other things.
i cannot wait to be in the desert soon where it is dry and you can breathe cactus prickles instead of icky prickles. i think i have changed my mind about my nose piercing unless i decide to do it on a whim because the desire has already come on a whim and left. it just wasn't a lasting whim like they are never.

and actually what i want more than most things is what i want to see and feel and taste and express, and all of those are always reachable even if they are not always real right now. i'm starting to understand people a lot better, and with some people that means i shut down because i don't want what i know might come of it. this doesn't have to make perfect sense, but it becomes clearer to me what i need to return to and what i don't need more of. yesterday during the earth day festivities after passing something tasty around, i realized i wanted nothing more than a bowl of green beans, more heavy metal, and space to roam around in. today i got my bowl of green beans and a clear nose, and that is how things progress.
there is only one more week left of pocho, which is really frustrating. more beauty follows, but the little one must leave. maybe i can visit him in the shelter until he finds a home, but that is me knowing what i won't soon realize and knowing it is knowing it and doing it still. sometimes benches and rocking chairs are not as good as you think they are before you sit down, and sometimes they are just the best. and sometimes though you have work to do, it's just not the right time because you have a kitten doing wheelies on your lap and work will always be there but wheeling kittens won't.

something else that occurred to me during the earth day festivities in the park is that i hope rock music to the backdrop of planet earth clips is a lasting trend.

nose pierced this week. hummingbird later. it's just something i want to gooo through.

setting out to the desert in 6 days. i can't wait to not be in the apartment again. more and more i am feeling inhibited ball walls and some people and some schedules and some street walks and failed meetings, but that is like today. the buen dia festival is all afternoon in celebration of the planet, and i'm going to start it by finding a glass bottle of coke, a cheesy burger, papas fritas, and an oreo alfajor. somehow food, here, is my constant measurement. perhaps it always is. a good day is navigated by what from where and how. there was a walk to an art circuit that didn't exist. these things always happen when there are other back=ups that have passed. it's too bad loopyness can't always be here, you see, because loopyness makes the days go round.
goals for rest of the weekend follow, human rights film festival, brazilian film festival, earth day, book fair, mataderos fair outside of the city, and maybe a park or two. off to add and cross aforementioned!

faster my friends the old world is behind you.
the landlord has transformed into a scary villain, and i hope our communication avenues can repair themselves swiftly. everything is a play but very importantly improv is whistling above the curtains. the kitten has been neutered, and i have never quite heard him make sounds, only squiggle his bum, but he squeaked a suffering squeak. it is frustrating not to be able to keep things around when you are rather fond of them, but i suppose i must get better at not being able to.
salsa with missa was very silly, and i am glad i shook my grumpiness of yesterday to the floor. i am just terrible at remembering dance steps and coordinating with my feet in time to the music. the man who taught liked to burst into song and rub his nipples, and neither of us knew if that was okay. more lines blurred. i was chatty with a taxi driver who ended up changing my hundred for a fake, but luckily friends saved the day. friends always do.
i went to hecho bs.as. yesterday, and i would like to emulate all of the everything about it. it was in this old decrepit building near the port, and it makes you feel like you are in the new old world. the writers and editors wear bright plaid things or layered colorful things and flower hair things and high ankled sneaker things, all aglow with spunk. from what i gather, i will help the vendors with any problems and maybe do some art projects. i wish i could go there every day, and i have decided to spend more time there each week due to how lovely it all is.
tonight there are over 60 art galleries open and a million bright faces to greet and bulbs to turn on, but for now the kitten is wobbling and my head is throbbing and we are going to start a throb-wob revolt against gravity or something practical like that.

i suppose i should say this as well.
friday was adorable and tasty at my favorite restaurant with a smell of hookah most unlike mine. i discovered today the owner came 5 months ago and opened the restaurant 3 months ago. he is something, alright. the night was spent with me witnessing a game of backgammon, talking about tom robbins, nestling, taking about the existence of flakiness, and content indecision for a very long time. i was pleased and torn as i think was the general vibe.
saturday was spent sleeping and having a stir fry with a very important missing ingredient and a pirated dvd that stopped working and sleeping until the wee hours, napping more, and falling asleep early.
sunday was full of what sundays should always be full of, and unless i have a very special reason to bop around the weee hours of the night on saturday, i prefer low-key saturdays to any other kind. the rest of the week i see as being more worthy of spending the twilight hours, and i especially love my sundays. we went to the ecological reserve just a stone's throw away. inside of the park that day: my favorite smiley girl without teeth and a plan, a rock beach that sat upon what is almost the ocean on piles of what used to be and is garbage, roller skaters, yummy snacks, stray pups who run to you in the grass just to lay down by you for a while, some nooks, some jokes, some great analogies.
i discovered my favorite base rhyme is -ap. at least for now. the rest of the day i had another dish that lacked luster that you think would be a companion of creativity, missa, and alex handing out slices of pizza to a milonga in the background. i want sunday backkkk

i'm taking on the smell of vinegar on a monday, and the sound of that makes me want to run away from myself. too bad for the dulce de leche that just made its way down my system. i am feeling like running a lot lately, and not necessarily physically. it's something i am metaphorically good at and terrible at simultaneously. it is just like the potato chip that you initially thinks tastes terrible because it has no grease and another bite later you realize it tastes great because it has no grease. i suppose it is the because that always goes afterall.
pocho might have a home soon, i am hoping and not hoping in time as well. there are things happening and not happening all at once and if i had no obstacles i would live meatless, fruitful, and sparkling on a raft full of high kicks and shuffling. i would probably have a flock of flamingos behind me and stray animals that come and go as they please. whenever they hit dry land, i would strap the rollers on to my shoes and become a skater and speak fluently whatever the natives at that spot spoke without studying or a second thought.
hi reality. i'm back, and i smell like vinegar in the fall. i would prefer to read the alchemist on the roof with a beastly kitten but know better.

my last title

I woke up today knowing that I would wake up and crawl back in a comfy bed with a big comfy wasp of a boy because I am infected, and it lets me nap. But days like these make me circle the block too many times out of confusion, choose the purse I like but don't love, and bat my sleepy eyelashes over a shrugged cup of coffee and a poorly printed package of information of neoliberalism. In a curled palm kind of way, I have a kitten on my lap and too many plans for later to warrant my carelessness, but oh well. The waitress at the cute organic nook around the corner became unfriendly, and I wondered if I smiled too much. Why do I sometimes have to second guess smiling too much? It makes up for when I am on the street and trying to smile too little. I guess I shouldn't smile and be polite at everyone I see and expect them to dig it, but when I am wearing gingham with cute little russian dolls at the bottom that is what I want to be.
Today I especially miss waffles and whipped butter. The world tells me, "too bad." I wish I had darker skin and could pronounce my words properly. I learned today to stop saying that I only speak a little Castellano. I speak more than a little, and I can hold down a simple transaction over the bag that I bought because I couldn't reconcile purchasing the one of higher quality that was larger and oppulent. Also I hope my friend can take Pocho because he is already a tough sell given his body is at the awkward stage between kitten and cat. I have been trying to smoosh an extra pesky flea that keeps taking refuge below his left eye, and I was so close this morning that I thought he was dead. I was wrong. As usual. I simply can't have any more cheesy bread, and I need a bag that I can carry my kilomba around in when I leave the apartment for hours on end. No other bag will do, and I know this. Oh, the mundane silliness of it all! I would prefer to be reading the tao of pooh to this neoliberalism stuff, but Alex is smoking a cigarette in the window, and I can't focus at all, and I am always surrounded by a posse of Alex's or could-be Alex's or should-be Alex's. I am a run-on, but academic run-on's are the worst.

crums and leftovers

I have neither of either. I have, actually, a basket of goodies to share with you, blog folk.
One, this is the perfect gift: 1 lg bathtub with legs, a giant jug of bubble bath and a fizzy ball, 1 bottle of root beer, 1 bottle of fizzy water, 1 electric blue nail polish, 1 peach cigar, 1 box of pore strips, 1 nostalgic watercolor set, 1 book of crosswords, 1 bouquet, and 1 very important tea set.
Two, my favorite way to stroke my ego is by wiggling.
Three, the perfect meal that makes me not hungry and not so bloated is tomatoes stuffed with tuna, and it is important that they exist here in spite of a vicious lack of soup.
Four, I did see mariposas; did I tell you? Did I tell you how they floated and fluttered all about the beach? It was miraculous.
Today I have replaced one ailment with quite another again, and I find house calls the most adorable visits of all. To see your very own doctor come to your very own home with his stethoscope all about his neck and a proud, black briefcase all about his finger tips is a most fine sight indeed.
Yesterday the British fellow at Walrus books told me they had boxes and boxes of new books in storage and to come back soon. He also discovered that we were practically neighbors which is always a most welcome discovery.
After taking a lot of Ibuprofena, I showed Alex the buddy bears in La Plaza San Martin. I have discovered a new bear each time I see them, and they are so sweet. They have the best tummies around, just like the Pooh himself! We walked down the ritzy Alvear, and I suppose my thoughts that Buenos Aires was not enough like Paris to warrant the title of Paris of South America were unfounded. Everything was so lovely and polished and marble and gold and ornate and lush on these streets, and it was a welcome respite from muddy old shabbyness I claim to be so fond of. (And I am.)
The cemetary was closed, but the tree of life in the park across the street never is. To see fig trees so old and enormous means fulfillment. I noticed today the way the museoleums peak out atop the brick fence enclosing the cemetary. Looking at them while church bells clang in the distance with a sooty sky overhead is the most peculiar sensation. We found the national library that appears somewhere between a spaceship, transformer, and oversized submarine. Inside we found brownies, and we ate one.
The subte tunnels have these beautiful mosaics that I never really paid much attention to. I suppose when you get used to them or have no comparisons between ruddier tunnels they seem just so so, but they are not. They are so much better.

hola chicos!

a stream of thoughts on this pascua from me to you!
highlights:
dessert each day, which means good surprise desserts and not boring old ones. dessert 1: helado de cereza blahblah it was a creamy ice cream full of candy cherries piled on top of a creamy cone on a hot, hot day. dessert 2: peaches with ice cream and whiskey on the rocks to the backdrop of freaky 90s dance new age jams. my favorite was a freaky ballad that kept repeating: so you're in the army now. though when i was trying to recall the beat later it kept being replayed to the horrible tunes of: now you're in the army ooooh a la backstreet boys. dessert 3: black jungle cake full of cherries and a caphariana full of the freshest limes and raw raw sugar.
the dessert is necessary when facing meat land extraordinare which makes me want to mad hurl. i had a second run in with vacio, though alex says i'm a baby now that he knows what it is. at that dinner i made a great friend with a feral cat who needed love and then dropped me after i left him idle for more than 30 seconds. he was regal and the victim of erratic behavior of this really desperate dog trying to start terf wars with him. then i felt really bad for the crazed pup and gave him some grub too. in the end, all of the fatty strips i rolled into a napkin and dropped at the entry way to the patio for the smartest or luckiest animal to enjoy or hoover.
the trip to iguazu was lovely and bizarre. our bus line promises movies, but they are all crappy american movies with subtitles. the first bus played some odd romantic comedy with country songs about finding love and jesus. then they played miss congeniality 2. they had surprise courses of meals and medialunas in the morning. the other bus suddenly had this bizarre ad rapping about pussy in english advertising an energy bar. the lights were off for quite some time at the beginning of the bus ride which made a girl sleepy and then turned on and stayed on abruptly for some time until everyone got off the bus for an impromptu sit down dinner.
the falls were overwhelming, and i'm still thinking about them. tourism is a shame to an extent. it takes so much away from the falls and the area itself for me to even be thinking about the tourism aspect over the falls. we climbed and dodged and stopped and saw and got sprayed by mists of the falls. how can so many falls be in one spot, riddle me that.
my most favorite part of the trip was wandering off the beaten bath after seeing a sign alluding to sculptures. it was downhill in this foresty spot, and all of a sudden a little boy with a pale said "hola! un momento!" and ran to get his keys. he brought his smiley little sister to show us the wood carvings that were made by his brother, and i couldn't have been more enamored with them.
cheese hunting, bye!

a few words

it's okay to be pushy about getting conversations back on track.
it's okay if your brain is messy because sometimes it will be in order too.
if you are ever stuck inside for a long, long time (say at immigrations in buenos aires, say for eight hours) and have some styrofoam from a sandwich, it is super fun to roll up the pieces into little bowls and wave them away with your hand because you create snowdrift on the floor. it is also fun to make friends this way and share. oh, and it is fun to make a geometrical ring out of it too.
i got someone's email that is day8eternity and they live in the middle of a rainbow lake owned by the coca cola company. i cannot make this up!

got the tum tum blues

I have a million vegetables to do justice with soon. I hope I can live up to the challenge.
I have lost a lot of Spanish this weekend somehow. I really despise that. I am turning into an insomniac. When I don't get home til late and should be tired, I can't sleep. It is a real pain. I am beginning to think of my digestive track as an active volcano.
Yesterday I did the unthinkable and touched some filmy water. It was very pretty, and I disinfected afterward. We went to a silly party and danced, and despite the lack of extremely warm people it reminded me a lot of home. The joking isn't quite as sweet, though. I find myself more standoffish as time goes on to certain people in party situations. That behavior is very much not me, and I wish it wouldn't happen. I just don't trust a lot of strangers here. The abrasive or skeezy factor is tough to judge given the existence of benefit of the doubt. I have not been giving the benefit of the doubt unless I see someone truly deserves it. I'm not sure if it's a lack of filter or rudeness in many situations, but it is rather peculiar not knowing. I value some filters because it removes awkward misunderstandings, but I am trying to develop a more readily available lack of filter to at least test all the same. Someone last night was wearing their shirt around their shoulders, and he said that it fell off because of me. And then I said, what do I have to do with it? And he said, it came off because of you. It's like an earthquake that it came off just like this. I didn't really get it, and I said that he was the one that took it off. It is bizarre situations like these that make me feel closer to those likeminds from my culture. I really don't hate to say that and do hate to say that all at once. Mercury must not be in my sign right now, and I am looking forward to it returning. I also thought that someone was trying to clink glasses with me out of the blue so I went to cheers, and she was trying to hand a bottle to her friend. She continued to do so, and it was really funny despite being weird. They kept playing LCD sound system, and we left around the time this strange song about "where is my soul?" came on.
I am really appalled by the behavior of men here, not just Argentinians, and also by a lot of the women. I feel much more balanced than many people I have met, and that is a peculiar feeling for me. What is this supposed to mean anyway= $:)
It is something that is meant to be left at the keyboard, I strongly believe.
Everything is extremely unusual, and I have been thinking a lot about home this week. Anyways, I'm glad that Alex is coming soon because it will feel a little less surreal constantly.
Yesterday I went to Chinatown and wandered around aimlessly for the first hour. I need to return if only to find bubble tea a handfan. We went to a polo game and ended up in the wrong place a couple of times. There was a magnificent park we got lost in that you can rent boats along the river and a race track across the way from the polo field. Polo is bizarre, and some friends talked to this French tv producer friends with the best polo player in Argentina. Also we stayed and found free champagne and appetizers and mingled with some creepy men that turned out to be polo players. They were nicer than expected, and if nothing else I really do love the cheek greeting by creepy men. One invited us to his final today in a really nice suburb of BsAs and the after party. I didn't go since I couldn't sleep and not stop running to the restroom, but Sam and Sabrina did. Tavi said he would drive us back. I don't like relying on those situations.
We spotted a lovely Brazilian restaurant for future dinners, Mexican restaurant we ate at- which was phenomenal. Jesus, Sabrina, and I went to Plaza Armenia for some drinks. There were little boys holding hands and playing in the grass together. It was quite pretty and exciting to find some part of the sky with stars. Also there is the most magnificent book store ever in the area I will be frequenting with bookshelves worthy of Beauty and the Beast, and a little cafe that screeeams Be Our Guest!
Mercury, come back to me!

note to those select loved ones

I'm not sure what I'm saying in these blog that signifies I am smoking cigarettes, though, I think there was a post from a million posts back that may have said something about turning to cigarettes when I was alone here and stressed. I am aware of the risks, and I'm not a fan of the risks. I am not smoking massive amounts when I do. Most social situations in Argentina are smoking friendly, and it is hard to avoid it as much as I would like. Also, I don't think nicotine gum exists here? Also also, I don't think cold turkey exists here either.
Love you all!

the dot in the basement where you can see anything anywhere in the world

I am walking to the basement of that dot tomorrow.
The rat tail fad here has a history, as all things do. It started a few decades here as a sign to show you were in solidarity. I am guessing in solidarity with the humanitarians kidnapped and such in the 70s-80s. Certain numbers of rat tails signify certain things. A little kid from today said that rat tails are cool, and that the most cool people had 3.
I had a very long, odd day. My legs are pleading for a break. I'm giving them one. Chauchau

the spacey frontier and a missing lobe

I have been having quite the difficult time with my schedule. I keep showing up to class at the wrong times, and if it wasn't ridiculous already it is nearing the realm of the unacceptable. I have taken up coffee again which is doing me good for class, but it still doesn't put my brain into optimal overdrive. I suppose even a girl who switches spaces would stay spacey afterall, wouldn't she?
The opera is a silly affair, and that is what I like the most about it. Humans are inherently absurd, and the opera best exemplifies this inherent absurdity. A fun fact about the opera: the screens located right next to the stage served a culturally practical purpose during a different era. People, namely women, in mourning who wanted to socialize or enjoy themselves after suffering a loss would still attend the opera but in secret. I watched an opera called something after class yesterday and didn't giggle like I expected but drew things during intermissions and made up dialogues in my head. I also played the staring game with members in the orchestra and tried to count how many times I saw the diaphragm of the lead convulse.
Fried chicken exists here, which I will obtain soon. So do cocoa pebble-like cereals, which I am eating for breakfast. I have also stopped recycling neurotically (but don't feel any less guilty about it). I have taken up drinking mass amounts of coca cola on top of everything. Pistacho ice cream is a must at all times of the day, and I have spotted the most perfect cheap place for choripan just one block away from my home. I am looking forward to a weekly or bi- or tri-weekly, pushing it of course, round of mid-day choripan. It's just hard to be a happy person when you are constantly searching for organic and healthy fare in Buenos Aires without scouring the entire city. In an effort to retain my much valued happiness, I have resorted to eating things I would have dismissed in Iowa.
I went to the most enormous annual march in Buenos Aires the other day. When I first arrived, I locked eyes with one of the Mothers of the Plaza (of Mayo). She was wearing one of the infamous white scarves on her head, denoting her relationship, and we smiled at each other. Something about the genuity of it was really flooring. I nearly burst into tears but got ahold of myself.
I was able to hold onto the banner with all of the known people who were kidnapped/tortured/killed during the military regime. Most of the time I held onto the picture of a girl named Elina, and she could have been my best friend. The march was kind of a mess, but people are people. I think the number of people in attendance came somewhere around the 40.000 mark, but I cannot be sure. It went for blocks and blocks and blocks and blocks. The age range and the diversity of those in attendance was astonishing. After being in the middle of everyone in the streets, I found a nice spot in the sun to listen to some of those speaking. I made friends with a toddler who kept bumbling around the hill and using me for balance and a receptacle for beans and blades of grass he would find on the ground. I tried to give him a fuzzball that was once a feather, and he didn't know what to do with it so he just stared at me for a long time.
People have been on my mind constantly. That is, people and what it means to be a person and what it means to value life and what it means to violate life and what it means to be fanatical and what it means to transition from the valuing of life to the valuing of ideals. I have also thought a lot about emotions and what takes people from point to point. The most recent cycle of these thoughts stemmed from one of the most powerful, disturbing, and real films I have seen in a long time called "This is England." Toward the middle when emotions get twisted, I clutched the pillow and couldn't let go. Then I went to bed listening to the most recent installment of This American Life entitled "I didn't ask to be born" which made me writhe even further. The following day in my Human Rights seminar, we watched a documentary called "Breaking the Silence" detailing the experience of torture victims through out the world. My professor was one of the people on the screen, and it was interesting having already known he was a victim of torture watching the reactions of people in my class when they saw his face in the video for the first time. I have been taking the edge (created by these intense emotional catalysts) off by frequenting the Twitter of Christopher Walken. I recommend it.
Today marks the beginning of the International Film Festival, my career as a trapeze artist and tight rope walker, and the weekend. Pocho is still stupid, so that's nothing new, but he began sharing the bed with me earlier in the week, which is. Tomorrow my Human Rights class is visiting a navy outpost which I believe was one of the sites of the secret detention centers during the military regime. I may need to rush to the horse stables to take the edge off afterwards but only time will tell.
There is interesting political shiiiit going down here, and I suggest you look into it if you can.
El fin.

glass bottle moment

I am not blowing my nose throughout the entire day again! Take that infection!
On my walking adventure I spotted street protest of the day numero uno. Again, the purpose remained ambiguous. Someone was speaking into a bullhorn about something I couldn't ascertain, and everyone was holding a sign that read "cielo" (signifies heaven).
I walked about 35 blocks to the Tattoo Arcade en Avenida Santa Fe complete with "alt" clothes shops and bong shops. A few points of interest: one, the lack of privacy in the tattoo parlors. You can watch people getting tattooed through the windows. Emily questioned whether or not this would hold true even if someone was getting a tattoo on their privates. This is one instance where the term privates becomes relative. There is simply no privacy in these places. I asked if I needed an appointment and how much it would cost and both of my answers were granted. I'm going to come back one day this week with an actual image of the hummingbird of my dreams so something is not lost in translation. Also, I've never seen so many thick laced black boots and scratches and neon animal prints congregated in one area in my whole life!
I walked again about 50 blocks to the movie theater. At one point, right after the sun had set I had regretted walking alone through the streets ahead of me because it was desolate despite few bodies interspersed, but I felt okay. I came upon a busier street the rest of the walk and was glad I braved through the on foot trek.
I came upon another protest-rally in a square equally ambiguous and complete with bullhorn. I will learn the meaning of the more rare words so I can pitch in when I see fit. Every bus waiting haven had "capitalismo es egoismo" taped or written on the side of it for about 5 blocks as well. When I return to the spot I will bring my camera and take the blog on a walk with me so you can see it just like I did. I kept looking up to see if I could spot one little star of the southern hemisphere, but the sky was raisin purple. I appreciate a good tone of purple, for sure, but I do look forward to parting ways with the city from time to time. My lungs could use a break from the smog, and my eyes could gaze upon a few more constellations.
I came across a punk show being played in a beaaautiful park before I waited to go back to the theater. Something about those 10 minutes really stuck with me. I'm feeling rather ethereal regularly here. I also spotted a lady selling popcorn on the street that I uncharacteristically passed because it looked old. Also the boy the vendor was talking to had greasy hair and a baseball cap and made me nervous. That was odd. I made up for bypassing the popcorn by enjoying a glass bottle of Pepsi complete with straw and a man who popped the top for me prior to the movie of an old man with beautiful eyes. I really appreciated the purposeful slowness of the film.
My favorite part of the night is the cab ride home. I get to watch the city move for me. It's an interactive and breezy film.

losing focus "porpoise"-fully

I am not going to look for anything anymore, and that is that. It is my new goal-less goal. I think we have the meta-pizza to thank for this one.
I have placas. This signifies a pussing of the throat, and, in my case, of the entire head. My head is a puffer fish, and instead of rising it is sinking. It is a real shame, and I bark like a seal approximately every 5 minutes.
Today was a night of Anglo-isms and tonight was a day of disappointment in the program. I do not belong in Spanish level 200. Unless you feel like reading about my frustrations with the program, please ski(p/m) until the next paragraph. I know people in the level higher than my own, and I know I know at least as much as they do if not more. I knowknowknow it. I don't just thinkthinkthink it. I knoooow it. A multiple choice language test has not ever been comprehensive. When I was in high school, I always did worse on the multiple choice final than I had the entire year. Those in authooority do not sit in on these classes ill-suited for people with a genuine intermediate understanding of the language. They do not hear the effort being put forth by other members of the class, see the varied levels of skill in each class, or recognize that one measly little test is not a sufficient method of assessment for everyone. Maybe I'm not good at multiple choice, and maaaybe just maybe I learned different words than the ones put on the test. I am embittered, and I don't like having others exercise their authority over me. If the first week starts off with a review of the most basic points in the language that I learned at the very beginning of my Spanish studies, I believe that sets a tone for the entire semester. When a review begins where I left off, I find it to be of much greater use. It is also more useful, logically, to continue where one left off rather than return to go.
I feel like I'm perpetually losing the game of Sorry with the program.
I just went to an odd jazz show and heard way too many English speakers and songs. A soul group with 3 Argentine front women that sang like Aretha Franklin but looked like Argentine Stepford Wives began to sing "I'm young, gifted, and black." Sabrina and I were wondering if they knew exactly what the songs they were singing meant because every, every song was entirely in English. Furthermore, apparently jazz in Spanish doesn't exist?
Final note: Claude with a Transient Meatball = Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
I found "pistacho" helado that tasted more like mint. I think I am going to go there every day this weekend, and especially if I able to have a green weekend.

tengo caca en mi cabeza

I have a silly little infection that is making me even sillier and smellier and dumb. My brain is nublado and full of poop, apparently. On Monday I woke up to ringing ears and beachy sounds and kept going back to sleep. There was a lot of confusion in regards to acquiring a doctor to see me, and when things didn't happen as I had understood they would, I would just... sleep.
Pocho wasn't being a punk on Monday and would cuddle by my feet like he is doing now.
After a really frustrating phone conversation with a doctor enabler, I got someone from the program to call for me which was a huge relief. I will be more patient with people when I answer phones when the caller doesn't speak fluent whatever-I'm-speaking. I tried to learn horseback riding terms in Spanish to make the day productive but after the doctor I ended up watching Ace Ventura and Shakespeare in Love with subtitles on the movie channel.
I think Easter is soon, and it is because I am just now seeing advertisements for Easter things. In comparison with the US, Argentina hangs looser with the advertisements. I have mostly seen little smiley eggs and little smiley chocolate eggs at places that sell those things, but nothing more.
Yesterday I wandered out quite a bit since I had no class and came upon a day long protest that was able to successfully halt traffic on at least 5 major thoroughways. I tried to listen but it was no use! I bopped on over to the port to look at the murky old watercolor water and headed home. I miss nice grocery stores the most, I think. Everything reminds me of Aldi's.
I went with Missa last night to a pubcrawl. It was silly. I did smoke hookah, and then I walked away from the hookah because it wasn't working. I met someone who became permanently attached to my side, walked up to some Argentine men who were mostly just boring and said we should throw a party for their single friend, and then met someone who kept saying no who everytime I said I was from Chicago. In his head I will always be Norwegian, but that does not make it right.
I went to class today and learned nothing new. The placement test is terrible, and the whole class period we went over the difference between three very simple verbs that are so 10 years ago. Then I went to the wrong class on the wrong day, but I think I will switch to it because it was more advanced. I sat through the whole class because it was too embarassing to get up. I wrote down the wrong times for 2 classes of mine, and I'm not sure how I'm ever going to survive in this world when I am always getting the details mixed up.
After my last class I got all hot and panicky because my throat was swelling and my neck was aching and I was sweating and felt like I was turning into the hulk. Since my walk home is quite a ways, I tried not to get flustered by the too narrow sidewalks for the too many bodies and made fun out of the cracks and dips and breaks in the sidewalk as if I were winning the game everytime I didn't trip. I also started humming somewhere over the rainbow, but then I just felt weeeird. People walking in pairs are lucky and eeevil because they don't move over for you when you are walking, and then you end up walking in the street with the speeding buses and motos and bikes and taxis. Could you call that Social Darwinism?
I am about to start my second roll of toilet paper of the day for booger disposal. When you spend most of your day blowing your nose, you get to feeling like quite the booger.

klumsy with a k, salty tea

Recap:
snuffly nose
sleepy brain can't sleep
kitten acquisition
falun dafa lecture 1, learning more about the history of humanity in preparation for next week's session. it is kind of silly, and i like that.
makeshift litter box

other end of san telmo sunday feria:
squishy tomato toys, check
lovely handcrafted instruments: one indigenous clay flute from peru/another xzylaphone creation made from a hollowed out gourd
met someone from bangladesh and a girl who works with refugees in argentina
discovery of a cobblery artist who will create shoes you design for quite the bargain
armenian restaurant with one accidental salted tea and one purposeful but regretted salted tea
armenian cuisine was a little lackluster but decent
twisted knotted necklaces that i will make one day
rosey bobby pins
delicious artesan block of cheese for the equivalent of 4.50us split into a more devourable twosome for less
a brilliant discovery of a newly renovated home turned shop haven full of: records, knowledge
'of charles garcia: acclaimed rocker of argentina, knitted cacti, holigraphic rulers, retro print dresses, igloo freezer, clear glass floor overlooking a basement full of produce bean bags, pene corto ice cube trays.
repunzel-esque gold straw jewelry.
improv painter.

pocho is purring and cuddling, and now he is going wild again. i am in love with my barrio. ahhh!

"i'm a cartoon you're a full moon just stay up"

I'm quantifying.
100 squats intended.
0 squats achieved.
1 creepy caller.
1 lead as to his identity.
2 unsuccessful naps.
2 surprise plates of consolation food.
0 ice cream places open after 1 am.
5 strange men asking for a dance partner on the avenue.
31 times rose said "oh sheet" :).
1 pertinent bob dylan reference.
1 kitten-proofed apartment.
2 neighbor kitties spotted as potential playmates for pocho.
7 hours until pocho is in the apartment.
5 weapons on the vigilante parking attendants belt.
0 clues as to which were real.
0 opera realized.
0 cowboys that walked through the door of the bar.
1 that should have.
1 character sketch written in the last 2 months.

mysterious magneticism in the bag pipe cabaret

I found myself listening to pretty new Bright Eyes lyrics today. What I appreciate about them is the weaving of the words that describe what they see around them. Especially this: I'm a cartoon, you're a moon, just stay up. Mm, if life were quite that abstract, those are the sentences I would utter without a second thought.
I noticed more kitties in the building today. I opened the giant window by the living room that generally leads me to nothing but noticing a blank concrete slate patio the floor below. I can't believe anyone would let a patio go to such waste! Anyways, there was a smiling cross-eyed siamese this time that looked the regal way most cats look when they are balanced.
I found a cabaret musical theatre one block away. It's rare for anyone to be white in my neighborhood. I like that feeling. Bagpipes are regularly playing when I enter the apartment building. A strange person called today, and I think I know who it is. I asked who they were, and they got weird and shy and said their full name. He was hung up on due to ambiguity and all around weirdness. It brought me back to kindergarten which is not healthy considering the period of maturation that was supposed to have followed.
Yummy bean dessert at a nearby restaurant followed by samba or cabaret or wine bar or acrobatics or magicians. The definite factor is the storm that brings bright light tramps skipping through the windows on the streets and makes you smile at strangers and dance on the corner. I am finding myself always in a spinning frenzy. I like to play games with other people's eyes sometimes when I know I am in control on the dance floor and surrounded by friendly faces. Sometimes I pretend I am trying to make a sandwich and the other person is the bread and all of my friends are the meaty part, and I must put as much inside of the sandwich as possible to separate me from the other piece of bread and then I get away. I only played that game once last night, actually, when I started dancing very badly and then very well, and then I laughed a lot and filled up the sandwich.
My feet came back purple. I spent a lot of time scrubbing the purple (think raisin or eggplant purple) off of my mocassins in the sink today. My heels are still purple, and I think I really love being a little dirty.
I'm getting a little Pocho kitty to watch starting at noon tomorrow for the next two weeks. Little Pocho kitty will get to meet cross eyed kitty and big kitty tomorrow too. Chau, I hope it is storming wherever you are too.

logistics

Also I was put into Advanced Spanish 2, and I know I am better at speaking than this. I should not have a lot of wine the night before an early test. 100 multiple choice that is extremely narrow in its vocabulary and grammar is terrible in addition to using these really complicated put 8 paragraphs in the right order to make a story and then 5 short answer questions that don't all make sense because of the vocabulary. I'm demanding a recount on Monday and also to be placed in Argentine poetry. If not I will be very extremely bored.
I'm telling the doorman I have a boyfriend tomorrow and seeing if he stops. If not I'm telling the landlord. People are easy reads, and he is clearly not happy with his life.
Time for bopping and ice cream and theatrical dancing.

need to a) keep moving b) not spend money during the week to go on trips c) wants to stay put

I wish I could stay in Buenos Aires for much longer. I suppose it isn't possible unless I graduate a full year late which I don't want.
Full weekend: bubamara, tigre, bouncing, hot skin.

meat tooth, sweet tooth

Last night consisted of mystery jamming and smooth rhythms, bird cage swings, and puddle boxes. The cultural center was full of the most beautiful people with lots of faux flowers in their hair. We ate empanadas after the show ended and got confused about an inexplicable offer of an extra plate which was declined.
I fell asleep feeling chirpy and breezy.
Today consisted of a long conversation about linguistics, tango, friends in foreign places, and old English lovers in Spanish on the way to an estancia. We were greeted by baskets of the most delicious empanadas, and then I took my shoes off and ran towards the swings. I wanted to go down the slide, but it was made of wood and a bit wobblier than I would have liked. Sam, Lori, and another girlface tried to spin me clockwise and I defied all logic by not being dizzy. My shoes were still off.
Next I think came handstands and elbow stands, and I'm not sure how Samantha can do the cartwheels and the backflips and the handstands she can do. Anyways she does it, and she does it running and smiling. She also talks about wearing her shoes out on lava rock, and I can't articulate the feeling I get when I hear her refer to lava rock.
An asado in this neocolonial building shortly followed. I ate little Brazilian fish with soft bones in them. They tickled my tongue. There were slices with meat crust and hardboiled eggs with pickled peppers inside. There was midafternoon wine and yummy poached pears with wildly smooth dark chocolate on top. There were giant slabs of meat, and I could only stomach the first roung of pork before declining all else.
I shared some delicious mate surrounded by the first group of boys who weren't outrageous citizens of deuschebagland. I have never been friends with so many girls in my life, really, before this trip. It's nice to know there are worthy boys out there.
We bopped into the farm and saw the Argentine version of ostriches, baby rabbits, loose baby ducks, peacocks, doves, big rabbits, giant guinea pig, baby waby guinea pigs, bunnies in the duck pin, armadillos standing up. Also chickens and turkeys of all different shapes and sizes and colors. There was a deer and a buck. I also made a cat friend who reminded me of Takkun. He was feisty, and I charmed his wily self for just a while. I knew I liked him when he licked my armpit and then bit my elbow. Tough love.
Sam and I ditched bikes and road on the rickshaws that appeared off limits but were embraced and therefore within our limits. I made a Milo and Otis reference that was met with the cutest biggest hug ever. The contraption got stuck a fair amount, and it was hard and bumpy and woozy fun. I liked to jerk around in it, and maybe that means I shouldn't have been steering. Regardless, it was a workout to remember. My face was more flushed than I'd seen it in years upon return. I also successfully rode bikes in the grass, but I couldn't do narrow turns. I stayed up the whole time and was able to start so successfully so often!
I had the sweetest pomegranate seed of all pomegranate seeds and rubbed palm fruit oil all over me and smelled really good for a long time. We spun around really fast and some sang some really awful musical songs that made me happy because they were from musicals (which I had wanted to get into before realizing I don't like most musicals) and partially uncomfortable because they were all songs from my least favorite musicals. I began singing the Addam's family theme song instead. I gave 2 tarot card readings as we passed around the gourd of mate, and I had my day's cigarette.
We are buying thong swimsuits tomorrow to wear on Saturday in Tigre. I am passing up a language exchange once more though it is only 2 blocks from my house. My feet are covered in dirt from running in the mud, and my skin feels hot from the sun. I have to register tomorrow, but not until later in the afternoon which means I can have a lovely morning.
The trip ended with a bus ride listening to The Blow reciting a kids clapping rhyme/game: Sally Walker. The color yellow came up in conversation. I gave myself a quick 3 card tarot spread of: 8 wands (past), 8 cups (present), and knight of cups (future) that couldn't have been any more pertinent to my current lifestyle and couldn't have been more invigorating. Then there was a rainbow, but we hadn't had any rain.
The McDonalds's here really aim for classy, and I oddly dig their uniforms of denim playsuits with embroidered M's on the rear pockets. I am losing my English, and I have noticed I've had to go back and revise some odd errors in entry that stem from me hearing my thoughts in my head and typing with phonemes rather than words. I'm going to think about red crushed velvet suits, the eiffel tower, and cadence now. What a romantic end to a Thursday!

rainy day insights 1

My day began with the doorman telling me it is raining. Yes, check. You should be using an umbrella. Yes, check. No es importante, check. He kissed me on the cheek out of nowhere. Not at a logical starting point, say, as a greeting. Sporadically when I was saying I don't own a paragua. I return to find him once again trying to get me to use the elevator which is wildly unnecessary. I am on my floor, and I find him tucking a paper under someone's door and then following me to my own. He asks me what I'm studying, and he doesn't understand the answer until I explain it very awkwardly, making it sound much more complicated than necessary. I say chau, and then he jolts and boldy whispers "I like you." It might sound cute or sweet, but I disagree. It is unsettling to be told that someone you don't know at all, that works in your building constantly and seems unstable, suddenly expresses affection. I especially don't like how he knows when I am home alone. It will be nice not to come home due to sleepiness next week. As soon as my obligations with the program are over for the day, I need to return home and retire swiftly. I don't want to be nap-girl.
An aside: My landlord is a maneater in a green dress. The woman has so much spunk she can fill a flat tire with it.
Kitty sitting and finding a home for kitty begins this weekend. It will be nice to have a little creature to care for for a short period of time. I will probably be humming "Pocho" all over the city frolicking to and fro. I can hear it now.
I saw the most wonderful show today with (shoutouts to:) Carina and Rose in the most wonderful venue/bar/shop/playground. Afterward we swung on the swings made of cajas (birdcages), and I took my shoes off and dipped my feet in the massive puddle that accumulated in this under the staircase quadrant creation. I kept spinning in the swing and knocking the man talking to Rose, and it was a little awkward.
I'm going horseback riding tomorrow and trying to finalize the logistics of trip number 1: Bolivia. Samantha is going to show me her handstand tricks, and hopefully I won't end the day in Michelle Tanner of Full House fashion. For those of you that reference is lost on, I don't want to fall off the horse after a jump and get an almost fatal concussion.
I made a desperate move today as I really hope I don't get placed into a terrible Spanish class full of fools. I was so sleepy taking the test, and many of the words they used are not in my Spanish vocabulary. Didactum? Hmm. Anyways, I am quite good at learning and very interested in it. I can write Spanish quite well and understand lots of things when I know the words, but when you are taking a multiple choice test and answering some questions with words you don't understand, how is one meant to fashion an adequate reply?
I hope I dream of lunar dust turning into quick sand and emerging in a puddle tonight rather than my strange nap dream of a shared arranged marriage to the door man. I didn't know if I was married and had to take care of this child that wasn't mine in a cute little pleated dress also mothered by someone who seemed to be a co-wife while the man was away. It was awkward and I kept trying to decide whether I should take the child or the empanadas or get a divorce.
If the rain absorbs enough acid, will my feet eventually decay?
I really like the living room because there is so much yellow, and I wish my bedroom had just as much yellow too.

ballsy babeh

i spotted a beautiful trannie on a beautiful old subway full of wood and parlor benches. then i realized she was trying to hide because she was snorting cocaine.

if buenos aires were a cookie

my sore feet say hello. today i realized if my stomach spoke a language it would be german. i am not so tired, but i am so sore and will retire earlier this evening than i have since i got here a month ago. i need to figure out a good back pain alleviating method, but i honestly just need better shoes. chocolate chip cookies skipped to their loo down the hatch this morning, and there was anything they could do they should relieve back pain.
i really like all of the people i know now. i am seeing more people i want to befriend, and everyone has been very friendly today which is refreshing after yesterday. my professor got sick of the idiocy infiltrating the classroom earlier today, and said they can leave since there was no real reason for them to be there. all of the cool kids remained.
if you ever call a taxi in buenos aires, call radio taxi premium. the other departments within that company are mean and stupid and less trustworthy as i learned yesterday. at least i wasn't robbed like another girl by her driver.
i found goosebumps folders for my papers. i found the tortoise and the hair and likeminded tales in spanish. i found the spanish version of charlie and lola, aka me llamo ana tarambonina (or something of that nature). lauren child is a visionary genuis, and there should be more of her in the world. other things there should be more of: flowergiving to strangers, women's liberation stencils, and benches. things there should be less of: leerers, trash, and privatized dental care. so many people have very terrible teeth which is strange coming from a nation full of braces happy faces.
do i take yoga with the dancers? do i mime with the mimes? do i horseback ride with world class polo players and guachos? do i play futbol? do i cook with the chefs? how can i say no to any one of those mind busying things? i will just have to eat superfruits and supervegetables and be as super as i can be. i need to do more research on the jungle and make more trip decisions. everything is happening all at once, and it is making me visualize millions of impressions in the atmosphere that we don't even know about yet.
must get shoes shined.

call me chips ahoy

number one on the list of missing things is:
chocolate chip cookies.

alfajores are divine, but there is something extremely rugged about a chocolate chip cookie.

what i miss right now

giggling, marshes, single sounds, fireflies, smelly mossy musty swamps, having a personality, having more people around me who want to order another bottle of wine.

people did say i have buenas ondas (good vibes), though, so i am doing something right.

i really am enjoying writing this blog too much.

some things

busy busy busy except today.
i am so sleepy and my head is achey sleepy, and i just do not know why. i woke up and had energy but i have no energy again, and i have been trying to be energized relaxed.
i saw manu chao last night and danced as hard as i could while bracing myself so i didn't tumble down the declining chairs ahead of me. i loved the demographic of crazy mellow porteno hippies. they had a lot of pretty and funky prints and flowers and bands in their hair.
i am trying to organize my goals while i am so sleepy.
one, i must find out the returning bottles policy. i am really terrible at speaking practical spanish but really good at talking about impractical things. i went there trying to return my bottles as i thought i was supposed to do, but i was supposed to buy a replacement of the same thing in order to do that? it was confusing.
two, i simply cannot figure out my front door. for four days it was easy-breezy, and now it is extremely complicated. sometimes i can open the door to get outside without using the key, sometimes i have to jiggle.
the two above remind me that i still don't know anything despite the fact that i think i have learned it. it is so silly, and sometimes i laugh and sometimes i get really flustered/repetitive and sometimes i get rather upset (namely with the door). i also realized i don't hate commas as much as i thought i did last night. it is an uphill battle.

my mate is beginning to taste better.
i just joined a girls soccer team.
i'm comparing prices for horseback lessons and mime school and sailing and cooking class and trips to uruguay, paraguay, bolivia, chile, peru, bariloche, patagonia, mendoza, cordoba, and la plata.
i did not go to school today, and i wonder if i regret it.
i need to figure out the subtes and where to go to find the bus stop.
i also learned there are really high quality knitting supplies for quite cheap here, and that there is a startling lack of supernatural phenomena.
which reminds me of that place in chile that supposedly is a hotbed for ufo's.
i think i sign up for

there has been a revival of the books in my life as of late, and it is more calming than anyone could know. as well as there being a renassaince of the blog and podcast.

tomorrow i tour the tattoo arcade and pick where i am getting it done.
i'm thinking about buzzing off part of my hair soon to see how much i really like it.
i think i need another nap. i suppose it is rather exhausting to continually try to communicate in a language you previously thought you were good at.
i also need to buy b-52s tickets which are still available.

warm anecdotes

i forgot to mention that bullfrogs croak every time i receive a message and cars leave noise streaks turning around a bend each call i receive. my alarm is very soothing, and it is easy to be at dinner for three hours. i don't believe in germiness and have started a poor sink habit. mike knows. i saw my first telo (loove hotels), and it had a huge sculpture of a disproportionate naked woman fingering the flowers in front of her. i have been so sleeeepy here and so sore. i will probably eat a lot of alfajores today with fruit dipped in dulche de leche.

astronomy cast

i'm listening to the books in one universe falling asleep in a chair.
i'm in a chair sleeping listening to the books in universe, one.
to the books i'm listening, falling asleep in a chair, in one universe.
i wish i knew everything about the books and stars and were fearless. the bugs are big. big are the bugs.

the pre-bedtime recap post

I need to write this in Spanish to make up for lost practice. I will then translate.
Hola internet,
Hoy fue muy bueno pero deseo que no estuve cansada. Es muy dificil a escribir en un otra lengua ahora porque mi ingles es tan terrible como mi espanol. Me duele mi cuerpo mucho hoy porque de la noche pasada. Fui a una fiesta de Couchsurfing y conoci muchas personas de muchas paises blehblehbleh. Los chicos son insistentes y de Caracas, Buenos Aires, Mexico City, y Panama City. Muchos besos que no quiero. Fui a otros bares despues de la fiesta en San Telmo con un model de Panama y un chico homosexual del norte de carolina. blehblehbleh
Este manana estaba baracha asi, y no me gusta este mucho. Come con el grupo de mi programa. Entonces fuimos al centro de la gobierno en la cuidad: Casa Rosada y etcetc. We travelled to the port neighborhood which is full of brick and free of trash. A giant ecological reserve of this strangely unkempt yet ruly brush sits alongside of the streets and sprawls for blocks that would otherwise be used in support of urbanization. A metal flower sculpture suddenly blooms beyond the vast expanse of nature. It might be my favorite sculpture without even considering the ambiguity of artistic worth of a sculpture. If it is functioning, it opens with the sunrises and closes with the sunset.
I went to the cemetary with a girl from Pennsylvania and another from Malaysia. Some of the tombs are bashed into, many of them have fresh flowers sitting on the platforms behind the glass. The cemetary is almost like a little town with tiny homes for the dead. The concept behind these burials is so perplexing considering the thought process behind creating eternal homes when the majority of living lack homes of their own. Some of the caskets are readily accessible, and I was tempted to open the door but did not for fear of an unshakable curse, not being in favor with the androgynous angels, large bugs and sleeping cats hanging out in the shadows disturbed by my meddling hand. There were little paw prints on top of some of the visible unkept caskets which was so lovely. Cats are must not be self aware afterall and/or fear not often unless in cases when their survival is threatened. I did knock on one of the caskets for good measure. My favorite epitaph read: !Papa! Nunca no fue. Siempre aca existara por eterna. I wish more people talked to the animals. It's a very natural way of connecting with your surroundings! Duh. Many people wake up every day and talk to the sun. It is not a conversation in the traditional sense, but does someone have to be verbally speaking to you to be engaged in a dialogue or exchange? I don't think so.
This is what I am thinking about before my head hits the pillow. As you paint this picture will you tell me what's going on in your mind? It is the only thing I think about anymore. My mind will surely also return to the scary man in the street who hid behind the corner when he saw us group of girls sticking his hands in his pants and running back out from his corner to continue with his business while watching us pass. If he popped out of the cemetary, I believe my worst fear of the locale would have been realized. I can't speak in English anymore right now. Good night mooon. Good night internet.

me duele mi cabeza

Lots of people told me I spoke Spanish very well. I'm just more nervous during the daylight, I suppose.
I might throw up on this bus trip. My head is killing me right now, and I just want to go back to sleep. I have to walk 20 blocks to get there now.
I might be a model in Argentina, or I can pass out fliers because I am cute. I was solicited a fair amount last evening.
Plus I met so many people! Mmm ouchouchouch

as seen on charles's wall

i've started a tradition of eating an alfajor every day. it is the most delicious cookie/moonpie ever. it is afternoon sex's substitute. i'm going to a fabulous party full of empanadas and argentine pizza and foreigners from across hemisheres equators rivers county lines and so on to celebrate someones birthday. isnt that pretty? i found charles bukowski one block away from me, and it is my bedtime story. ham on rye has somehow become my midnight snack, and it was you who introduced it to me. i wish you were here. although so much of the people in my world down here are being robbed, so i'm glad you are not being robbed or held up at gunpoint. we should go to mexico sometime and buy some chic bullet proof gear as seen on nyt. then we can go to rio and not worry so much.
i am memorizing facts about obscure countries in the world, snacking on strips of zanahorias, radichetas, y repollas before i go to my first couch surfing event. i couldn't be more excited. i need to couchsurf south america asap. step one advance.
i need an alfajor. also i went into the supermarket across the store with 20 pesos for 3 bottles of wine, and i think the fact that what i owed was exactly 20 pesos is a good omen.
there are so many things happening this week.
i'm sneaking into manu chao this weekend and visiting the underground tunnels of mansions and picketing and sunbathing in the plazas watching children juggle.

impromptu city

Yesterday included an accidental tour of the city, and there were lots of beaaautiful parts. After entering the bus on the wrong street and not remembering the protocol of colectivo use since it was another first for me, we were an hour and a half away from where we should have been. I saw a lot of lush greenery, a giant diner with a huge neon flamingo out front, ditzy chicks, and a beautiful little barrio of Buenos Aires I do not know the name of. It was full of mansions and teenier houses painted beautiful colors with jungles and forests and oh my tea is done!
The barrio had the cutest nurseries and little kid-friendly shops and happy babies in strollers passing storefronts full of delicous baked goods and brain enhancing things and stickers. I was giggling because we had been on the bus for 2 hours at this point, and it was so lovely. Two little girls were making fun of us and whispering with their little shiny, bright rain jackets, and I couldn't have imagined a better way of spending a rainy afternoon. I love being fallible.
Today was also lovely, and I nearly cried again because everything was so beautiful. We went to Plaza San Martin and took pictures with the united buddy bears that have been touring the world since 2004. The United Buddy Bears: http://www.buddy-baer.com/
I met 1/2 of the couple responsible for this, and I was so happy to meet him I didn't want to let go of his hand. Oh I love people doing beautiful things! I also had a yummy cookie just before this and hadn't thought the day could get any better so quickly.
I also talked to lots more lovely people today, and I am bubbling over with optimism. I popped into a book shop on the way home and found something wonderful and popped into the supermarket and found wine wonderful, and now my window is calling my feet to come dangle. I am answering the call. Chau chau chau, as they say.

my wildest dreams of becoming an intern and getting established

I will be able to dress up like a professional and act like a professional if I do the UN internship for enforcing The International Declaration of Human Rights or if I do the internship that involves teaching people how to read and write or do other physical activities. I would be no good at teaching them how to do anything be read and write. I need those other physical activity classes.
I might join a girl's soccer team that will be gratis, and I am getting headway into learning how to find a person to give me horseback riding lessons a few times a month.
There are more fun looking people in the program than I thought. I learned what a fractura is and that that is the kind of receipt I need to get a refund from the government rather than have to pay for things I didn't know I had to declare.
I need to learn how to get to Peru.
I have been waking up to mate, CCR's "Bad Moon Rising" on my alarm clock widget, and a piece of fruit.
The yellow wall in the living room/dining room is feeding on me and I on it. It is my vortex and my sunnn. I will find friends that will either understand me or pretend that they do or both. I need to find some authentic Argentine music as most of what I have heard is terrible American music before going to the market. I can't wait to watch Disney in Spanish while I eat either.

nothing to do with julie andrews

.I woke up this morning puking and my stomach is exploded. It's not food poisoning or a hangover or curable by Tums. It is a disaster, and it is hard to digest water. Parasite? I do not know.
.If you ever get to try palmitos, they are yummy on pizza. Buenos Aires loves pizza. And there is some odd nacho-cheese-squirt-thing that is available called salsa. I don't understand! And the national tequila is tasty and sweet and cinnamony. I've never felt so dreamy about it ever.
.I like the olives that sit on top of the pizzas in a geometric sort of formation, I think.
.There are very cute little plates that the restaurants put out of tiny little snacks, and I know I love that!
.I'm giving up toilet paper and cutting back on meat and won't buy a pack of cigarettes until Monday.
.The phones/celulares are really confusing even with help. The number systems are a disaster, and the phones still won't work. I like the little tunes that come from it, though.
.Q: Where's the second world?
...Oh, A: Were the communist states aka it fell down the sink.

friends, drag show, yay

I went to my first drag show at a lesbian bar yesterday! Wee! Emily and I made friends with some local girls who wanted to get down. They invited us for dinner and drinks tonight in Amalgro! Err, all of them were extremely sweet sans uno. There was an extremely beautiful girl that was interested in me, and I should've kissed her after I told her I was down with boys and one in partic. Why not, eh? No harm done. We left and went to a rather yicky club in Palermo which is very extremely vibrant and lovely and clearly upper class. Everything was crisp and trendy and colorful. Unfortunately the club turned my head into a robot and made me regret leaving the purple bar with no rooms and lots of women and the cutest bartender I ever did see. I must take him home and introduce him to a gay boy, I must.
I feel rather ill today, and adjusting to staying out until 5 am or later on a daily basis is doing a number on my already confused bod. It's okay bod, we'll adjust. I just hope I'm not getting sunstroke for I'm wickedly warm and haven't sweat all day. Blehblehblehhh. Bye!

ahhh no sleep

I have met so many people from here and Colombia, and it is so lovely. Everyone is on vacation and wanting to chat for so long.
A man from Colombia came and sat down next to us while we watched some boys playing soccer. He liked to speak a great deal, and I don't ever know what to make of that. He kept quoting poems. In the end we lost him because he walked up to another pair of girls he wanted to chat with. I do think he was trying to take us to the sex room. La Boca's colors make you feel like you are hanging out in a box of Crayolas. If that were so, everything would have melted. We snacked and watched a tango show. I think it must be easyish to do if you think of foreplay the entire time, a lot of wrapping legs and things. A boy from La Boca saved us from heading to Las Barraccas at night. When we were headed that way he said, "Son loca?" Though we knew he told us how to say don't bother me and also not to talk to strangers and where we can get back safely. Thank you Axle! He also gave me a cigarette. Thank you Axle!
I went to a grocery store for the first time also. I didn't see fresh food at this one so I only purchased wine. I got 2 litros of wine and 2 litros of beers for 6 dollars? Holy moley.
We popped into a bank transformed into a bar-club that turned out to be quite fun. I met some from Chile, some from Buenos Aires, and one beautiful one from Colombia. The dj was playing boring music, but you could still dance to it. Alex, we will promote you. I will be your gig pusher. Easy. I did not take ecstasy nor go home with strangers, but I did do other things. The bartenders are rather dumb and pretty, and they give you quite a lot to drink. Walking home was beautiful as well, and there are vast expanses of greenery amidst the trash and the dog poop and buildings. I love the area we were walking in. It's hot even in my room. I am napping while I wait for Emily.

sunny days, off to play

There are nice friendly dogs in the plaza and also tables where the servers don't stop people from trying to sell things from you. I need to buy some earrings from one of the men there last night. They were exquisite and hand crafted, and he must be working very hard doing them. There are also a lot of children asking for money, and my district does have lots of cartoneros. I just want to help them. I wonder where the children doing this go at night. A drunk man stopped at our table asking for more to drink. He was quite boozy and thought Emily and I were dating. He wanted to be in on a little secret that didn't exist! Another man came over to talk to me while Emily was in the bathroom, and he thought that I was French. I tried to play along with it and act like I didn't know what he was saying, but he was funny so I told him the truth. He said I was like the sky, and it was wonderful because I could converse with him fluidly and laugh about everything that was being said.
I made friends with lots of pups too. They have the loveliest eyes and are so spontaneous. One kept giving us his paws and laid down next to me until he decided he wanted to go for a stroll. Mi perrrro, quiero mi perro, I sang, but he was over it. Quite a laaarge mob was celebrating something by the Obelisk last night as well. From a significant distance I heard loud-loud drums and marching and saw flags. Everyone was dancing, and holding up traffic for at leeeast 15 minutes. There must have been somewhere upwards 2000 to hold down a 16 lane thoroughway.
The people in the hostel are quite nice and share their Quilmes and stories about innards with me and run over to say hello when we are sighted on the streets! Everything is illuminated. I do hope the water is working today for this girl needs a shower.

what do i collect?

-science articles in spanish and all other related things
-recipe books
-other books
-crystals
-little bunches of cards and/or matchbox
-odd glass...things
-seashells
-slips
-velvet
-zoo memorabilia
-crushed flowers
-pretty lamp from market
-.....................................................
-paintings

must obtain quickly:
-bathing suit
-working knowledge of the public transportation system
-umbrella
-fruits and tea and medialuna mornings
-pens
-shoes with treads, preferably peddlers
-tobacco and papers

misty images of wild babies and their cohorts

A few passing images:
-the accidental ordering of fat steak aka vacio. it sounded a bit gnarly. it was. i am glad i didn't accidentally slice myself with the knife i was drunkenly wielding.
-it is easy to be drunk after 4 glasses of wine. i suppose that they do fill up their glasses very high so it is beginning to make sense.
-each of the bathrooms have very distinct toilets. in my drunken bumbling upstairs, having the courage to ask where they were located properly, i landed myself in a stall that had a toilet with extra parts and metal intestines. i missed the button on the top of the toilet and started fumbling around with one of the wind-a-bobs on the intestine and the toilet starting spraying me. i squealed, fixed it, and saw the button right where it should be.
-there are lots of art shows and pretty people talking about pretty things under the paaale moonlight.
-the children here, that is the ones who are not below the poverty line, appear to have very happy childhoods. i'm surprised i didn't mention this earlier. i haven't seen a single parent yelling at their kid nor kids being bratty. i have seen little girls in their little skirts carting toy strollers with baby dolls, little girls playing the accordion, little boys with rat tails on their parent's shoulders, little kids making wild little kid noises through open car windows and disappearing when someone sees them, and little kids with straps this way and that all around them for the sole purpose of carrying around their favorite stuffed animal of the day on their backs. they have very unique fashion senses, and some are extremely outspoken.
-the craft fair a few blocks away has a booth that is selling knives and machetes and something i thought was a flute before i noticed the weaponry and didn't stand around long enough to get another look.
-i am in love with this city, and it is making my emotions all wonky so much so that i almost burst into tears when i saw a storefront with these beautiful antique slips and artifacts a la the very beginning of titanic.
-there is to be a rather enormous downpour later, and i came inside so i didn't fall on my rear in the midst of it. mostly because i didn't have any cigarettes, and my tum is so full of wok vegetales y camarones. i just discovered i could stand in my window and be outside. i might just play i spy and name all of the produce i see at the little market across the street.

the loss of the stars, funny? or just everything else.

I woke up today and thought it was the time on my computey. I went back to sleep. My morning consisted mostly of forgetting and uncertainty. I woke up and remembered that it was an hour later than I thought. I smoked in my cozy room in the nude and looked out the lacy curtain on my door that likes to flap. The French couple could have seen me if they were descending the stairs outside. To them, I'd be that naked girl smoking the cigarette in her room in Argentina. I'd be okay with that. I've talked enough about nudity on this blog so far so moving on.
I thought I was checking out with some woman who was sitting at the front desk. I said, "Hola!" She kind of looked flustered and smiled and ran away. I sat there not really sure what to do. I walked up and down the stairs since I couldn't leave without a key. I whispered something to the googly eyed siamese kitty, and he looked offended so I pet him instead. The man who gave me a room came through the door as I was walking down the steps to wait for someone to came in so I said "Gracias y chau!" That was fun.
I came back to the hostel I was meant to stay at and a smiley woman named Mali showed me my room. She said, "Soy Mali." I said, "Que es un Mali?" And then laughed at my mistake when she pointed at herself.
I left immediately to try to find the landlords office in the center of Buenos Aires, about 3 miles and who knows how many km away, and realized while I was walking I didn't know the number of the office. I went anyway. I couldn't find it anyway. Another man approached me and tried to sell me socks. Where are they getting these socks? Most people on the street are wearing flip-flops? I'm not sure socks are a street business you'd want to get into for a living. What are you doing by pushing socks? Anyways.
I plopped down at a cafe and ate the most delicious medialuna with ham and cheese and the most magical orange juice with pulp that never sinks to the bottom. Since the ATMs hadn't worked for me I've been trying to conserve my cash. This means one meal a day not exceeding 30 pesos. I started reading the Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo while eating and felt dirty hearing the words "the big brown monster exploded" while I'm around men whose...
After a eensyweensy nap I went out in search of an ATM that will give me money. All along I thought the ATMs that were protected with a door and a card swiper were for people who were members of the bank. I tried my card anyway, and it worked! It made up for all of the stars dying in a trillion years from now! Though the comparison is weighted more on one side in terms of what is more poetic.
I celebrated with an eensyweensy scone of Los Kilotos del Whiskey at a gelataria. It was dreamy. I realized I forgot again to look at the address of my next destination again. My mishaps are getting all very funny to me, and it is making me smile at everyone I see. Even creepy boys who say "Hello, I love you" or "Hola mamacita, como anda?" I say "Hooola" very coyly and resume walking.
I've been sitting with the window to my room open, and there are little kids making little kid noises, and some apartment building adjacent to the hostel has been practicing their music for a long time now. They are very well-rounded. I've heard some hard rock, some belly dancing worthy ensemble, some samba, and some very recognizable song a la Boy George but not quite.
I'm going to embrace the night with an early dinner and practice my Spanish and learn more about the cosmos. I will have a companion in 36 hours!

time jumps about, rain falls down, and i keep bumbling about

I'm not at all sure what time it is. It's either 6:30 or 7:30, and everyone seems to be operating as if it were one of the two. Hay una tormenta (there's a thunderstorm) today, and it is perfect. I'm in the barrio I will be living in, and I've walked past the corner that I will have a little part of twice today. After a mishap this morning of my hostel giving my room away for tonight, I am at a new one a few doors down that has the feel of a ranch. My ceiling is much closer to the sky than I will ever be dwelling on land. The two paintings in my room are of naked woman. They almost look like the same naked woman. They have inspired me to pose nude for one of the art classes when I get back to Iowa City. I'm falling in love with this city beginning today. The boy filling in for the innkeeper at my hostel for the rest of the week gave me my first cheek goodbye and was the first person I've heard to use "vos." I also spoke my first collection of full sentences since being here, and even though they were terrrrible ungrammatical, I got my point across. It is much too much easier to write than to speak.
I forgot to mention the little foot dances I've been having with the scruffy pigeons in the street and all of the little puppies being coddled by people. I've never seen a stray dog before today that looked so cleeean. Lastly, the streets are nothing more than broken jumbled cobblestone, graffiti on top of more graffiti, and not a single stop sign in sight.