It's Cold. I'm a wimp.

Signs that winter is coming:

-I actually look forward to doing the dishes because it means I can immerse my hands in hot water
-getting out of my ridiculously comfy bed in the morning is now even harder
-for the first time in 9 months, the thought of ice cream has seemed unappealing
-the standard outfit is now jeans and boots instead of jeans and flip flops
-I am the color of new-fallen snow...apparently my tan decided I wasn't cool enough and went back to the beach :(

Anyway, it's cold. Can you tell? Good thing I work from my bed! On a side note, it's amazing how your body adapts to your circumstances. For example, I now consider anything less than 70 degrees to be "freezing," hence the two pairs of pants I'm currently wearing (current temperature: 57 degrees). My spice tolerance has significantly decreased because Argentines refuse to put anything that comes close to "hot" in their food. I also put way too much salt on everything I make at home now, because almost every dish you order here comes with a little mountain of the stuff on it. I'm sure there's more examples but my hands are turning blue from the cold...

Tomorrow I have to venture out into the harsh world and tackle the Buquebus to Uruguay so I can stay here for another 3 months. I'm kind of worried, since I've been reading things about people having trouble upon re-entering Argentina. But this is only my second time doing the Colonia run, and I'm going with a real Argentine, so hopefully it will just look like a fun day trip (HA). People have been exploiting this convenient migratory loophole for years at a time, but it would be just my luck to get chucked out after two trips.

I do have new boots though! I don't know how I went 9 months without buying a pair of boots, but I finally caved and bought some. Knee-high leather boots are pretty much a staple of the winter wardrobe here, and now I fit right in! They are lovely and soft and so comfortable and I will wear them constantly. Success!

The only problem is that they don't have any tread on the bottom, so walking on any smooth surface is a life (and dignity) threatening hazard. I've already done the awkward shriek-and-arm-flail recovery move about four times, much to the amusement of supermarket cashiers, loitering shop owners, and fellow pedestrians. But oh well. I like a pair of boots that keeps me on my toes!

Boots!

Whenever I buy boots, I always think of that scene from Friends where Rachel is out of work and looking for a job, so she goes shopping and comes back with a pair of ""I don't need a job, I don't need my parents, I've got great boots" boots!! Am I her? Possibly. 

In sum: I'm pale, but I have new boots. Uruguay < Argentina. I'm jealous of everyone in the States who is getting ready for summer. Anda a cagar, all of you. See you when I get back from Colonia, provided I don't get deported.