It is 90 degrees and raining here in Buenos Aires and I am just lazing about my house, eating things and feeling the heat emanate from the walls.
It is my first "day off" in a while. After two action-packed weeks with Sexy that bled into some intense partying, I am feeling a little drained and sad. Part of it is because I am not doing a good job at keeping in touch with people so I sometimes feel lonely. The other part is that I have been wondering more and more what the hell I am doing down here, because it's definitely not working. But the biggest part I think is that in order to avoid thinking about this, I have wandered back into some choice addictions: booze, men, and cocaine, all of which are cheap, plentiful, and of decent--if not varying--quality in Buenos Aires.
I will tell you a secret. I am the worst kind of female in a lot of ways, a big romantic at heart who struggles against this perceived tendency towards sappiness through wanton hookups. But anyhow, I bring this up because I sort of thought I could detox from this hapless man-addiction I have down here, and was doing an okay job of it. But then I started down the slippery slope, and have already slept with more men this past week than I have in the past six months. It is a strange time.
I can have NSA sex sometimes, but it seems to be getting more difficult, like the strings want to attach themselves when I least expect it. Then I want to shy away from the whole scene altogether just to avoid any potential tricks my mind has in store for me. There was a moment last week when I was lying in bed with a gorgeous man, all aglow and happy, when I let my thoughts take me too far away and plunged me into deep regret. I started thinking to myself, "I couldn't marry this guy. Our first kiss was in a bathroom stall well past sunrise after doing a bunch of blow. What kind of story would that be at the wedding?" And as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I had to bolt, even though all was just fine and dandy until then.
Why can't things just be one way or the other? I'm fully aware I'm not going to meet the man of my dreams in some sleazy Buenos Aires nightclub. But I still get a perverse sense of satisfaction out of these encounters. My brain gets attached to these sorts of familiar melodramas. I'd been keeping a low profile, which is easy because I don't know anyone here. But also...not knowing anyone can get you into a lot of trouble. Because you just don't give a damn what anyone thinks.
Anyhow. I can't have the first post of 2010 be like this. So let me tell you that I had an incredible New Year's in Punta del Diablo, this small beach town on the Uruguayan coast about an hour away from the Brazilian border. We were walking down the beach under the full moon to a party when fireworks starting going off all around town: in front of us, behind us, to the sides. And everywhere there were boys. BOYS! We drank and danced and ate and kissed cute boys. That's pretty much all I want out of life, trite as it may seem. I'm not very demanding at all.