Ant Massacre

Life has been interesting lately. I am literally dumbfounded at the ants' capability when it comes to invading my house (the master bath to be exact). Not cool at all. We've had a permanent layer of baby powder on the floor and along the seam between the floor and wall in hopes that they will either all die of suffocation or at least learn their lesson and pass the message on to their ant buddies. I'm glad that no one has to see it except us because it's quite pathetic.

Today on my way home from lunch I stopped off at the hardware store in need of some serious sealing product to plug any and all holes where these jerk ants have been sneaking in. I almost passed out from the fumes but I think I got it all. Then I realized I had glued my fingers together which didn't seem to be a good sign. While trying to un-stick my fingers I spotted rogue ants trying to escape and I smashed them with my baby powder & glue mix and yelled at them in both Spanish and English, just in case any of them are bilingual.

It's funny how once you start looking for things to fix, you find more than you were expecting. I am ready to find out how I can rent a bulldozer and basically just start many things from scratch. I also want to throw away everything ever. I wonder if I could have a bonfire of the ugly cream rug in the dressing room. We also need to paint the bathtub. I hate mold/mildew. I also hate harsh overhead lighting. I found these amazing pillows made of rugs from Turkey but they were too expensive for me to buy all 4 for the couch. Sigh.

What else? Oh, I'd love to know since when Argentina ceded Buenos Aires to Brasil. It was a long and slow siege, but wow, have those Brasilians really taken to swooping in and taking over the city! It's actually insane. Calle Florida, one of the busiest pedestrian streets in BA, is known for its slew of leather stores, tourist traps and the Galerías Pacífico mall, among other things. It's kind of a zoo no matter what time of day you're there. Imagine the most claustrophobia-inducing place, with people trying to sell you tango shows and boat tours in Tigre, a sort of sensory overload due to the horrid advertisements and gigantic signs on each shop. Now, add the most annoying people in the universe there. (Sorry to anyone from Brasil, really. I am generalizing but I think it's fair since everyone hates on Americans.) Gigantic, robust and obnoxious Brasilian tourists who meander aimlessly through the street, without any real direction or purpose, juggling their shopping bags and balancing on their sky-high stilettos. They shout and scream in their strange language, and although I do wish I spoke Portuguese, I can't help but furrow my brow when I try to understand them/take them seriously.

Like I said before, I only feel like I have a license to do this because I get so much heat for being American and therefore associated with the Ugly American stereotype. I think Brasilians take the cake on this one. Since it's winter, they're all kind of dressed in like a faux aprés ski gear, with white puffy jackets and black quilted leather boots. They're actually insane.

After I endured the swarm of Brasilians, I was attacked by pigeons. I have a really intense fear/hatred of them and anytime one comes near I have to remove myself from the area. Not joking. The other day we were eating lunch in Plaza San Martín enjoying the balmy sunshine, and some idiot thought it would be fun to throw some bread crumbs to the evil birds. It didn't take long for them to come waddling over to where I was happily enjoying my sandwich of parma ham and fresh mozzarella. Hmph. My joy went out the door when the pigeons started swarming me! I had to get up and run away. Mind you, everyone and their mother was having lunch in the Plaza so I really looked like the village freak. I'm OK with that. As long as the pigeons don't fly around me, I'm fine with whatever.

To ease my current mental suffering I went to Rapsodia and bought a fabulous leopard print top. It is the cure for what ails me.