Tuesday was date day!
Given that D and I were not at our relationship high when we departed for Buenos Aires, I thought it was very important that we have quality alone time.
Plus, I dig alone time. I am a fan. I am a fan of couples spending time with other people, with other couples, alone with one another, and alone as individuals.
So. I declared, on Monday, that I wanted to have a date day with D on Tuesday. The Married People were like "What?" I explained that D and I have to determine whether we like each other or not, and therefore need to go on dates to do so. They said "But we'll meet for dinner?" and I said "That will depend on how the date goes."
D decided that rather than wandering around aimlessly for food in a city that is famous for its good food, we would, from henceforth onward, have specific food destinations. Armed with the guidebook, D found a lunch destination for us in Palermo Hollywood that supposedly had a cool vibe and "really good meat."
He was very excited. I was excited to see him excited, so I didn't worry about what I would eat.
When we arrived at the restaurant, we were shocked by its decor. It wasn't extravagant or at all impressive like the guidebook had suggested. We decided to stay, though, because there didn't seem to be anywhere else to eat.
Five minutes after sitting down, D said "Oh no. I think we're supposed to be over there." We looked out the window and saw, across the street, another restaurant with the same exact name. "Should we leave?" I asked. "No. No. No, they're probably the same, right? Like the font. It looks the same, right?" It did look the same, but why would there be two identical restaurants across the street from one another?
D ordered what he thought would be three small cuts of meat.
When it arrived, we were horrified that it was, like, two large pieces each of three different cuts of meat:
It was funny, and again, not that much of a travesty given that it only cost something like 18 pesos.
There were three people at the table behind us and they split the same dish that he'd ordered for himself.
This meal was interesting because it was the only restaurant that served butter with the bread. The breads in Buenos Aires were awesome - varied, soft, fresh, yum. And they would always be served with some sort of spread - like a cheese spread with mystery ingredients, or something creamy. I miss the spreads already. Sigh.
I got cheese ravioli with a tomato cream sauce and halfway through the meal got really sick. I don't know if it was something I ate or sharing the table with a pile of meat that made me sick. Either way, I ate about three raviolis and then had to stop.
We then walked to a gallery that we'd passed in the cab. It sucked, so we hopped in another cab and headed to a big park where we'd hoped to check out this planeterium:
Unfortunately we did not, because there were about 10 million little kids running around outside it. These kids, however, were cute because they were fishing and were not being obnoxious:
Instead of going to the planetarium, we decided to go to the MALBA. We walked over but, alas, it was closed for no apparent reason. No explanation. Just closed.
Disappointed, we headed back to the hotel to come up with Plan B.
Throughout our trip, D would stop and buy random candy that he wasn't sure he'd like or not. Here is some candy:
I think on this particular day he bought some disgusting mints. Despite their tasting heinous, however, they did miraculous things for breath.
D decided to go for a run while I decided to figure out how to get to Colonia in Uruguay for our day trip the following day.
Yay alone time!
The website for the company that operates the boat to Uruguay was being difficult. It would not load. At all. I tried to find alternate means to get there, but it was no use. I tried everything. While I was looking for this, M and A appeared in the internet room and declared "Our bags have apparently been delivered to us, but they are not here!"
They'd decided to have their bags shipped to them. A's mother sent them to the hotel.
They were, however, not at the hotel.
While M helped me to figure out the Colonia thing, A tracked down the package and figured out that the clothes were at Customs. At the airport. And it was very confusing what with the not speaking of Spanish.
A decided to go to the airport right then, so as to get the clothes as soon as possible and not have to worry about them for a moment longer.
They left and suddenly the website for the boat company was working. But, it seemed either really expensive or would take forever to get to Colonia. Oh well.
D returned and we decided to go to this collection of galleries in Recoleta that had been closed the day before when we tried to go there.
It was ok.
There were a couple standouts:
Including this artist who I loved but whose name, I, of course, forgot instantly. Does this look familiar to anyone?
While we were there D said "I really have to take an art appreciation class or something. I know nothing."
If only he knew how little the rest of us know.
We walked around Recoleta - mainly the top of the Design Center - after the galleries. There were no people. It was a quiet and clear night. Kind of spooky. It would have been extremely romantic had it not been cold, and had we not been so tired.
We then walked around aimlessly looking for a restaurant, yet again. We encountered a row of theme restaurants, including an Indiana Jones themed restaurant. There was a camel statue outside. I think the restaurant was shaped like a pyramid. They served Indiana Jones Ice Cream and other equally bizarre novelties.
As we headed home, I realized I didn't have any money left, so we went here:
Apparently Bank Boston still exists!!! Who knew? And apparently it rocks in Argentina, because there were Bank Bostons everywhere.
We headed back to the hotel without having found a restaurant, and on the way talked to M and A, who didn't have their clothes. Customs was closed when they got to the airport. They went all that way for no reason. They were most likely irritable, as were we from having not found a restaurant, so we decided to eat at the hotel restaurant.
D, who has an amazing sense of direction, continually said, in all seriousness "Oh! This looks like a nice restaurant... we should eat here some time" every time we passed by the hotel restaurant from the outside.
Clearly he knew where the hotel was, and knew that we were basically outside it, but he couldn't quite comprehend that the fancy restaurant he was looking at was the hotel. Cute.
I ordered a Cosmopolitan again at dinner, only this time the waitress clearly had no idea what I was talking about. I was embarrassed, but couldn't explain to her what I was talking about since, in case you were wondering, I don't speak Spanish! D explained to her that it was a drink.
It was taking forever for the Cosmo to arrive, and M said "I bet they're looking it up."
When the waitress brought wine for the others and said "The Cosmo will take 15 minutes" M said "They're totally looking it up."
When it arrived, M said "They definitely had to look it up!" because it wasn't really a Cosmo. It was more of a Grape Crush (which is actually my favoritest drink that I never order because its sort of an embarassing favorite drink), or liquid jolly rancher. Sweet and deadly.
There was much talk of house-buying at dinner, which stressed me out because I don't want nor do I have any intention of buying a house in the near future. This makes me anxious because D apparently does have the intention of buying a house in the near future, which is going to put much stress on the relationship. I was mostly silent and thinking "Mountains of paperwork and all money gone for 400 square feet... so... very... unappealing..."
We were going to go for ice cream again but I didn't want to. I just wasn't into it. We decided to order desserts off of the menu, and were all hoping that the mystery chocolate dessert was actually a Chocolate Volcano. Molten chocolate. Yes. D and I had attempted to order one at the French restaurant a few days prior but didn't because it was going to take forever for them to make it. We'd been craving it since.
When the waitress explained the mystery chocolate dessert everyone was very excited to hear her say "molten chocolate." YES! We ordered three of them for the table.
When they arrived, there was no molten chocolate to be seen.
It was basically chocolate cake. Still good, but a disappointment since we'd psyched ourselves up en masse for molten chocolate.
It is interesting that we had a group auditory hallucination. I guess we just really wanted molten chocolate.
We decided not to go to Colonia the following day, and all retired to bed. I think Evita was on that night, which made me far too happy for obvious reasons.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
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