Hola! ¿Cómo estás? Todo bien? Bueno.
But, it’s amusing to me to look back on our first encounters, when we were just getting to know each other. I was so sweet and innocent then. Pobrecita. You were so fun and exciting; God knows you haven't lost that.
I'm sorry for the cynical tone, mi amor. I guess there’s still a bitter residue leftover from the unfortunate incident that happened to me a month before I left you. You know, the one where two men broke into my house on a Saturday morning, came into my room and forced me to realize exactly what it means to be in survival mode. Certainly, you haven't forgotten that. And, although the whole incident ended in a Home Alone-style chase-out of the boludo bandits and a very lucky Holly, wallet-less but alive, I resent the fact that it tarnished my trust in you. But that's the past and I'm stronger for it. And, you know how indescribably grateful I am to, you know, be breathing and stuff.
You gave me a sensational sensory overload in November. My three best friends visited, and though I utterly deflated myself trying to play the "please everyone" hostess, you helped me slip in a few memorable moments to send me off on a high note. The magical waterfall adventure, my birthday beach bash, midnight milongas, Cabrera carne, polo parties, Kansas cocktails and a thanksgiving feast with my favorite people, at my favorite place. Muchas gracias por todo.
I thought of many sub-topics during my relationship with you that I could have written about, like:
- Buenos Aires, you are comparable to New York and London….in prices.
- But you're a much better lover.
- That expat comradery I felt when I first arrived turned out to be more like a fraternity with all the fun quirks frat boys are known for.
- Living at Club Aguilar, with my Argentine family and the international characters that filled the rooms was probably the best thing that came of my time with you.
- And then there’s Maggies, my second home and safe haven. And, I sort of fell in love with the Canadian dynasty behind the establishment. Sorry for the infidelity, but thank you for the intro.
- Belgrano is your most beautiful neighborhood (but not your safest, as it turns out).
- Cristina is the asshole everyone says she is.
- Your men are aggressive, but in a non-aggressive way. Does that make sense?
- Portenas actually wear the pants in the relationship. They're either floral, striped or hang-crotch.
- Your asados are quite possible better than our American bbqs.Yeah, I said it.
- However, I think your carne is over-rated. Said that too.
- Buying vino blanco is a crime. Actually, buying anything but Malbac should be punishable by death.
- Dulce de leche is the flavor of the Gods
- Top 3 reasons to visit you again: Maggies, leather jacket, telo.
- And your parties. El mejor. Los extraño.
- The lifers I met are the reason I am a serial expat, and you delivered some pretty solid ones.
- Thank you for finally helping me improve my Spanish after turning on the “shit, I’m leaving in two months and my Spanish is embarassing, must learn quickly and take more seriously” swtich. I get to practice my Castillano on my dog now. How useful.
Oh, Buenos Aires. You bi-polar bitch. You tangoed with me, then mugged me. Sipped vino with me and then spit it in my face. Fed me carne and then pushed me in front of the collectivo. Gave me hot Latin love and kicked me out the next morning. We shared laughs, tears and total breakdowns.
Another chapter closed on my so-called expat life. Until we meet again, I leave you with the opening of Medianeras, the brilliant little indie flick about depression, love and architecture- exactly how I will always remember you.