Back In Slack

MM with Luciano,waiter extrodinaire from Del Plata

All good things must come to an end. Yes folks, I have returned from BA and now sitting at my desk in grey old Docklands, looking at Etihad Stadium and not really knowing my arse from my elbow.

I'm tired, still slightly jet lagged, at the tail end of a cold and still living out of suitcases due to my still homeless situation. I'm couch surfing at my sister's and I'm already getting sick of it. Time to find a place to call home, even if for only a short while. I need a bed and a wardrobe. I've come back to a pile of work so this is just a blog to let you know where I am. I'm trying not to be sad about leaving Argentina but I have to admit it's hard. I will start to throw myself into new endeavours and seek new opportunities. There's no point being morose and besides, I can always return which I plan to do. This time I'll be armed with more cash and the Spanish language. Both help a lot. In the meanwhile, I'll get my brain back, a room with or without a view and get my life back on schedule.

The Buenos Aires Crud

It's official- I have a cold and starting to feel like crap. Nearly everyone I know who comes home from a stint in Buenos Aires does so with a cold and I am no exception. I thought it would hit me once I landed in Melbourne but it's got me now. With all the running around I'm doing plus inhaling the 'Malos Aires' (bad airs), the BA crud has knocked me for six. I ended up going to a milonga last night called 'La Milonguita'!! How's that? The Milonguita went to La Milonguita and had a sensational time. I arrived there after everyone else and was pleasantly surprised to see Hugo Daniel and his lovely novia, Antoinella there. I was able to have 2 dances and spend Sabrina,Ralph,Daniel and Erica's last night in BA with them. Such a nice milonga- great atmosphere and delightful people. Even the waitress was friendly and gave us hugs and kisses on our departure. I had my private class with Aurora and it was amazing. She was impressed with my progress and I told her I tried to implement what she taught the group last Tuesday when I went dancing. Aurora also designs and sells her own line of tango shoes so I bought a pair off her! I know, I know. That's it- six and out! After her class, I walked down to Gallerias Pacifico for Hugo's class and again, amazing. Hugo and Aurora used to be partners and broke up but their style of teaching is the same. Simple and effective. Both know how to teach and work with people. I have a confidence in my tango that I've never experienced before. It helps that there is so much tango here and you're able to put into practice what you've learned every single day. So, back at the ranch. I'm going to have a shower and a kip. I really need to rest if I'm gonna make it home in one piece plus have the energy to do a couple more milongas. Once I get back to Melbourne, I'll be giving tango a rest so I won't be disappointed so quickly when I'll have deal with the push/pull/race me around the floor style dancing that Australian men think is tango. I can live without that for ooh-let me -see...FOREVER!

Maybe Tuesday Will Be My Good News Day

I've taken a vow of silence this week. Let's just say life on the domestic front is less than perfect. Ms Thing has been asked to leave the building and I have agreed to do so. However, I don't wish to talk to anyone. In short, I haven't been having a good time of things emotionally which has translated to 'bad housemate' therefore the problem must be removed. So, I'll stick my stuff in storage at the end of July and then fuck off to Sth America. Three weeks of tango,drinking,sight seeing,afternoons in Cafe Tortoni and mass consumption of beef should see me through. I guess I'll be a vagrant on my return until I find somewhere decent to live. This share house caper is -as the Yiddish say- for chumps. I went back to it as a way of not being insular and hermit-like but in all honesty, it's driving me straight back to medication. Or the bottle... mmm alcohol! I'll get out of this funk but it's just that life is sucking big meaty one's at the minute. I'm actually finding some solace and clarity in my silence. I'm looking forward to living alone again if the truth be told. I'll be poor but at least I'll be happy. No more living with petty bullshit and anal retentive ways. I love my organised chaos and my sometimes burst of obsessive tidying where I'll spend a day cleaning and tidying absolutely everything which may include vacuuming out drawers... yes be afraid, be very afraid. Just read my horoscope in the Age that tells me tonight is a good night for cleaning out my cupboards and not to think about romance of any kind. **Queue Twilight Zone music*** (oh yes and why would I think of romance of any kind? Are you winding up, Virgo?). So, apologies for this kind of downer post. I promised myself I wasn't going to spill forth my surgery scarred guts on blogs anymore but this one has been oddly healing. Anyway, let's leave on a positive note- here's me drinking to me;

Margarita with a Margarita

Rant

It's 3.30 am and I'm wide awake. Probably due to the fact that I've been sleeping through the day because of this goddamn cold I've got. I had a weird discussion with my housemate earlier. She was up in arms about the story in the news today regarding children (AS YOUNG AS SEVEN!) pole dancing. I was bemused by this because I felt it was a bit rich and ironical coming from someone who sells dildo's for a living. My retort was that I didn't give a fuck if kids want to swing on a pole-we did it as kids on the monkey bars and frankly it's not that different. Whilst the monks and other citizens of Burma are being executed for fighting for democracy, while we are being fucked over by our government, who gives a fat frogs clacker if kids want to swing on a pole. People need to shut up and think better. I guess they'd rather stuff McDonald's down their kids' gullets while they sit on their globulous arses getting juvenile diabetes. At least they won't be involved in that scandulous activity. My advice to these ignoramous Anna Coren arse sniffing losers- fuck off and die. I've run out of aloe vera tissues and the regular ones feel like sand paper so if I sound a tad cranky- that is why. Maybe I shouldn't have watched Pulp Fiction either. I feel like popping a cap in someone's arse...