thunder blunder down under.

who is Pato? Pato! Pato! I always hear. I have theories. It's either the dinosaur that lives in the apartment below, or the grandpa whom has bad hearing, or the pet cat. My guess, it's the dog, and when I go down there asking for Pato, he will come wagging his tail. Ahhh Pato!

Today at 11am there were two men sitting in a side walk cafe drinking a bottle of wine. There's never a wrong time to enjoy yourself in this country.

So I almost. And I say almost, had my first public panic attack. So I take the subway a lot now, which allows me less viewing time of the city, but it seems to get me places faster and sweatier. And as we approach the stop that I need to get off at, I stand up to exit as usual, but the doors don't open. I wait. They don't open. I look around, no one seems to have major concerns, just the general annoyed look of Argentines in public transit. Something is said over the intercom. NO ENTIENDO! Oh, shit....you could please repeat that...lentamente por favor. I think more of the panic set in given the fact that I didn't understand everything being said, and I was thinking about the story my Yoga instructor had told me a few days before. Apparently, she was on the same line I currently was on when the subte stopped suddenly. They made everyone evacuate the train cars in the middle of the subway tunnel because someone had jumped in front of the train. So, of course this story is rattling my brain and my eyes are searching for exit strategies. There's an open window. I am wearing a dress. Oh damn, who cares. Eventually the train starts up again and we proceed to the next station where I got off and took the subte back one stop. Now you would think that I would have just gotten out and walked, but no. I eavesdropped on a conversation of a man talking about what had happen, and it seems that even though he could understand, he knew as little about what had happen as I did.

My Spanish has gotten much better since I moved into my new place. Mostly due to the fact that it's the only language we speak in the house. Sometimes it's hard, but learning is hard. So hard, sometimes. But everyone in the apartment makes a really nice effort in making sure I understand and having patience with understanding me. I like speaking Spanish! What, what!? I'm not resenting the language as much as I was about a month ago. I guess I'm hitting what some call a "learning curve" and I'm going up, up, and away. Not. But, still, lately I've been really good about just speaking, even if what I'm saying isn't perfect, I still give it a decent effort in trying.

The excitement for my birthday is increasing. I love birthdays. They're great. Since I didn't have a Halloween this year I need an excuse to go a little wild. And they don't celebrate Thanksgiving here (booooo!!!) so I don't have any other upcoming excuse to eat a lot and get drunk. Vammmmosss. I'm going to have more years!

And, yes. Tomorrow I'm going to see New Moon (2009) with my 17-year-old Argentine friend. Just in case, you were wondering.

-E.