Wits' End

Yup, that's where I am.

I meant to write today about December 8th being the Day of the Virgin, and the official day to put up your Christmas Tree (which we will do tonight after the milonga.)

But I am sssoooooooooo frustrated about so many things, and I just feel like whining and ranting. Those readers who can't take it can just click off now.

Sure I know many of you are suffering from snow and bad weather and here below the Equator the weather is perfect (if polluted.)

But counting my blessings, while causing me to be thankful, doesn't make me less nervous and angry.

Ever since my husband died, the holidays have been hard; the children gone, and my beautiful house also. That's why when I could, I flew on Christmas Eve to Amsterdam to dance tango. That's why I moved to Paris to live after completing my chemo and radiation with my French fiance on Christmas Eve. That's why I moved to Mexico with Phoebe the Cat on Christmas Eve.

But in my heart of hearts, I want to be with my family on Christmas, go to my church on Christmas at midnight, hang Christmas cards all around the front door, serve Christmas goose on my grandmother's Bavarian china, long-since sold.

A Latin country is not the best place for an expat during the holidays; everyone is with their extended families. My first year here in Buenos Aires I planned a Christmas Eve dinner at my apartment, but everyone canceled at the last minute--too hot, no transportation, a girlfriend's invitation for dinner with her family.

A couple years ago I tightened my belt and looked for a spa or resort to spend the holidays alone. But after being repeatedly told they were closed so the employees could be with their families, I just figured I'd go to a movie like I used to do sometimes in L.A.. Walked to the mall on Christmas Eve, and guess what? Movies all closed.

Last year I fell at the gym on December 26th and broke two ribs.

This year, however, I do have a plan that just may work: my friend Ellen and I are going to Tigre for Christmas--way far away on an island close to nothing. Now all I have to worry about is New Year's. I really hate fireworks.

I can't stop missing my camera, I can't get over my nervousness about the mugging two weeks ago, I can't find a Locutorio that can print PDF documents, I returned to Imigracion for the umpteenth time and for the umpteenth time they requested a new document with an apostille while in the meantime my FBI clearance is expiring. I'm sick of going to Uruguay (but I'd love to visit Punte del Este, but I have a one-day Colonia budget).

Sorry, no pictures, I'm just too crabby to steal some off the internet. I want my camera back! Wah.

I'll feel better tonight after I dance with Ruben. Poor guy, he just doesn't understand why I get so upset. He says I have to get used to Argentina, but will I ever?