This week's edition of our continuing saga of attempting to take the ferry to Colonia: we didn't miss the boat, but we chose not to go to the port, because when we woke up it was raining, gray and horrible here, and the weather report for Colonia said it was 50 degrees with showers. Gwoss. So, Ariella spent a good while on the phone this morning with a semi-idiotic Buquebus employee attempting to change our tickets to next weekend until it was eventually revealed that we never had tickets to begin with since there was a problem with processing the credit card. Awesome. I am interpreting this second failure to go to Uruguay as a clear sign that it was not meant to be. Yet something tells me we're going to keep trying.
Now we're sitting in Freddo, the chic ice cream/coffee shop in our neighborhood that has big couches, mood lighting, and low fat milk. Ré-Americano, ¿no? Anyway it's shaping up to be one of those habitual Buenos Aires lazy Sundays where I do pretty much nothing besides put caffeine and food into my body and read. Here is a picture of me drinking a cafe con leche today:
Notice how the picture's in black and white? That's because I'm SO bohemian, pictures with color just make me sick.
Umm okay, back to reading an article in the New York Times about juvenile sex offenders. The plan for the rest of the day is to sit around, read, and then Ariella and I are going to go see "La Vie en Rose," a French movie about some French lady or something. It's supposed to be good. It's either that or Ratatouille, and I am trying to be more erudite in my film choices, although Ratatouille did get an absolutely glowing review in the NYT a few weeks ago. I swear!
To be honest, though, seeing kids' movies in Spanish can sort of suck all the fun out of things. Take, for example, last week when John and I decided to dress up as Harry and Hermoine and go to the premiere of Harry Potter y la Orden del Fénix. Not only were we the only ones with wands in the theater, but the movie was terribly complex and I was completely lost, although that might have been a function of the 2 glasses of wine I had before putting on my Gryffyndor scarf. Maybe I shouldn't be publicizing this on the internet. Hmmm. ANYWAY, the point is, now I have to re-see it in English, sober, and probably re-read the book.
The picture above is what it would look like if Harry and Hermoine went to the prom together. And were 24 years old. And slightly drunk.
Well, I think it's safe to say I've said too much. Back to my reading.