I Would Like to Curl Up in that Laundry Mat Dryer Please

It's cold here. 

Have I mentioned that yet? 

Since not many places have heating, I am constantly looking for a way to stay warm. My most recent idea is to go into a laundry mat... I imagine it's warm in there. And if its not, then I'll just wash all my clothes and once they have finished drying, I will climb in there with them and bask in their warmth. 

So far the only way I have found to stay warm is to just keep walking. 

The four hours of walking combined with eating nothing but the Kashi bars I brought from home has brought my pant size down to a triple zero.

Naturally, I feel fantastic. 

But it's not just the size negative that is making me feel fantastic. I also feel much better that I, once again, have access to all my electronics. 

Thank you man at the TV store for putting up with my poor Spanish and directing me to the electronic store where I bought my power converter. I don't know how you knew that I needed a power converter after I said, "I have a computer. I need it to work," But thank you. Thank you so much. 

All this fantastic-feeling has caused me to stop walking down the street with my eyes glued to the dirty cement floor of Buenos Aires. 

As such, people have started hitting on me. 

I was starting to get worried, seeming as everyone told me that boys here hit on anything that is blond and walks. When it was my third day  here and I hadn't even gotten one cat call, I'll admit, I was starting to get offended. 

But today, the boy passing out flyers stopped me in the street. I knew it wasn't smart to stop, but by the time I realized what I was doing I was in the middle of a conversation with the flyer passer outer kid. 

I tried to get out of it by pretending I didn't understand him. 

But he was persistent. 

Anyway, de repente (suddenly) he was writing down his number on the back of his flyer and asking me when I was going to call. 

I tried to come up with a quick excuse, but when you don't have complete command of the language, lying is significantly more difficult. 

When he started asking for un beso and pointing to his lips I decided it was time to leave. 

"I'm meeting friends," I said. "I'm going to be late. I have to leave."

"Un beso... Por mis amigos," he said. Still pointing. "Un beso."

You don't need to point. I know exactly what you're staying. That is precisely why I am looking at you funny. I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU. I DON'T EVEN SPEAK THE SAME LANGUAGE AS YOU. What kind of girl do you take me for?

And then I turned around and walked away. As the flyer boy called, Beso, Beso in the background. 

I think I am going to like it here. 

Now, if I could just introduce Argentina to Walmart and peanut butter, we would be well on our way to becoming great friends.