From the Dirty Air

In the next room, Isa is watching House (big surprise) and Emiliano is playing some old baroque duet with a friend on guitar.

I have yet to go out and experience the exeptional nightlife, I simply haven't had time or energy or companions to do so. Maybe this weekend I'll get a little taste.
I have tried the wine though, which is absolutely deviiiiiine.

The humidity is relentless. It's so thick and filled with smog. I feel I can barely breathe in this city.
Oh the smog, it's become oppressive.

Some more observations:

The national Argentine sport (after Futbol of course) is complaining. It's how you start a conversation.
At first I was kind of a big bummer, but after a while, I realized its just light talk and so insanely common, you'd be odd if you didn't at least say "Che, que calor mas terrrriible"

All the girls here have very long hair, and they always have it down, flowing around in the smog breezes. they're fucking coming out of the woodwork too.

I can never have enough coins. Its the opposite of Costa Rica, where coins are gushing out of my ears they are so abundant. But here, I must guard my coins with my life. Taking the bus requires coins, and this morning I had no spare change and went running around the whole damned neighborhood trying to buy something so as to get some change. Then no one would take my big bill. Finally a chinese grocery store lady reluctantly on me and changed my bill. So many people here just shrug or turn you away form their shop if your bill is too large. It's a real problem. So that's my complaint for the day. Never enough coins.

The majority of the grocery store owners here are Chinese.