Hola New Life

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.