Luly Café

I've gotten really creative with layering clothing. I don't want to have to buy anything here. I told Annemarie earlier that sometimes I feel like I live in a Charlotte Russe: yeah, sometimes you can find cute things, and they're inexpensive by American standards, but in reality, it's all just cheap. And I'm not in middle school anymore. So I'm sitting at this café I passed on my abbreviated jog -- after all, I did walk home and didn't sleep until well after 2 am. So this place has a promotion of a small coffee and a torta for only $7 pesos. So I take it. Starbuck's is open to the public on Friday. It looks open now, people are inside it and the tables on the patio are all set up with squat vases of floating daisies, but there is a guard outside blocking entrance. So I finally asked him. After weeks of jogging by to see progress I am now dying to go. On opening day. With all the crazy Argentines that will wait in line for hours and either find it is not as good as what they have, or think it is amazing because it is American and expensive. We shall see. I just want to be there when it happens. I think I should add a coffee section to my to-do list...

Andres just called. He wants to pick me up now. No, my coffee just arrived. I didn't know if your text message meant "later today" or "later some other day," so I just sat down with my coffee and my journal and my dry coconut and dulce de leche pastry and I am going to enjoy it. But not really, the ambiance here is dingy at best and I am flustered. Just one of those days. Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day; Meg the pseudo-Argentine and the Flustery Day. My brain doesn't work; I haven't caught up from the weekend.