how often are you wrong in one calendar year?
Had a pretty good weekend, felt really long but still like a real, normal weekend, which is always nice. My first couple months here I went out during the week so much and had nothing to do so the weekends didn't really feel that special. I don't really do that anymore, and am sinking back into my hibernate-y antisocial ways which is fine by me, it is winter after all.
Had my massive midterm on Tuesday, I think it went pretty well. Almost had an aneurysm when the professor decided it was a good idea to dictate the complicated essay questions to us instead of giving us a sheet of paper (a huge fuck you to non-native speakers i.e. only me), but I think all turned out well minus a couple spelling errors and probably retarded word combinations. I read a lot of complicated anthropology and cultural theory. I'm pretty sure I can survive anything at this point.
Two best friends here (fellow hibernaters, so glad I have them) and I decided to rally on Friday night. Went to the local bar, had a couple bottles of wine, took a taxi pretty drunk to a bomb party that a guy that Amy is tutoring in English invited us to in Palermo (the trendiest neighborhood in Buenos Aires) in an old art gallery. Two floors of mainstream latin hits with beautiful people = not half bad. Said tutee happens to be a really hot lawyer, had really hot friends, but Skye and I were drunk and pretty much just sat in a window well watching everything hazily go by. It was still a good experience.
Went home around 5, found buses, were crazy. (Amy stayed and hooked up with the hot lawyer...gonna be an awkward tutoring session tomorrow!) Got within a few deserted blocks of house and realized that I didn't have my keys. Pervy doorman who undressed me with his eyes (host mom's analysis of the situation, not mine! But so appropriate) was asleep - knocked on window until he woke up. Went upstairs, sat on stairs outside door feeling very stupid. Didn't feel like waking up host mom in drunken state, thus opening self to questioning, tricked Guille into inviting me over/rescuing me. Took a cab 10 blocks, ran out of cell phone credit with literally the last text that needed to be sent and was tucked into Guille's bed after a snack of crackers and cheese within an hour. Love that boy to death.
Woke up with terrible, terrible hangover and no keys (they are so important in the Buenos Aires) and that "whyamisuchanidiot postdrinkingfeeling wheneverythingisfuckedup andthenyourealize ithasmoretodo withyourpersonality thanjustthatonenightofdrinking" feeling. HA.
Had stroke of genius, went back to bar and voila! keys readily produced. Went home, showered, returned to casa de Guille to watch the Colombia/Argentina soccer game and order pizza.
Life is really good right now. Shouldn't have had a café con leche at 10:30. No sleepies.
Had my massive midterm on Tuesday, I think it went pretty well. Almost had an aneurysm when the professor decided it was a good idea to dictate the complicated essay questions to us instead of giving us a sheet of paper (a huge fuck you to non-native speakers i.e. only me), but I think all turned out well minus a couple spelling errors and probably retarded word combinations. I read a lot of complicated anthropology and cultural theory. I'm pretty sure I can survive anything at this point.
Two best friends here (fellow hibernaters, so glad I have them) and I decided to rally on Friday night. Went to the local bar, had a couple bottles of wine, took a taxi pretty drunk to a bomb party that a guy that Amy is tutoring in English invited us to in Palermo (the trendiest neighborhood in Buenos Aires) in an old art gallery. Two floors of mainstream latin hits with beautiful people = not half bad. Said tutee happens to be a really hot lawyer, had really hot friends, but Skye and I were drunk and pretty much just sat in a window well watching everything hazily go by. It was still a good experience.
Went home around 5, found buses, were crazy. (Amy stayed and hooked up with the hot lawyer...gonna be an awkward tutoring session tomorrow!) Got within a few deserted blocks of house and realized that I didn't have my keys. Pervy doorman who undressed me with his eyes (host mom's analysis of the situation, not mine! But so appropriate) was asleep - knocked on window until he woke up. Went upstairs, sat on stairs outside door feeling very stupid. Didn't feel like waking up host mom in drunken state, thus opening self to questioning, tricked Guille into inviting me over/rescuing me. Took a cab 10 blocks, ran out of cell phone credit with literally the last text that needed to be sent and was tucked into Guille's bed after a snack of crackers and cheese within an hour. Love that boy to death.
Woke up with terrible, terrible hangover and no keys (they are so important in the Buenos Aires) and that "whyamisuchanidiot postdrinkingfeeling wheneverythingisfuckedup andthenyourealize ithasmoretodo withyourpersonality thanjustthatonenightofdrinking" feeling. HA.
Had stroke of genius, went back to bar and voila! keys readily produced. Went home, showered, returned to casa de Guille to watch the Colombia/Argentina soccer game and order pizza.
Life is really good right now. Shouldn't have had a café con leche at 10:30. No sleepies.