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.