Lewie

There are no words to describe how much this dog meant to my family. A sage in his own right. For me, he always knew how I was feeling even when I couldn't find the words myself.
With the slightest shred of masculinity running through him, he will forever be my dad's "little man."
For my sister, he was someone she could look after.
And for my mom, Lewie was her baby that never grew up.

Oh Lewie, you really will be missed.

Can anything more really be said?

Classic.

First day home!

Baby Lewie.

Used to each other already.

Oh sophomore year.

Great outfit. Devoted dog walker.

Sunday morning stroll.

Regal.

Another classic.

Winter.

A little out of focus, but hey, he's usually the one holding the camera

Drying off after a rainy walk around the block.

Running through the fields.

Most recent email headline: Cutest dogs in the world.

12/17/2007-09/18/2011

Oh the things that you do...

To be as cheap as you possibly can:

At 20 years old, learn what you should have when you were 8: paint your own fingernails to avoid spending your precious pesos on a manicure.

Or…an even better tip:

Always wave a 100-peso bill in the ornery cashier’s face and I guarantee you that that latte you just ordered is FREE. In Argentina, it’s customary for people to refuse to open up the register to give you your change.

To feel better about yourself as a human being:

Be the chivalrous young person you should be and offer your seat to the old lady or man struggling to remain standing on the subway. The whole act still baffles me because it appears that in trying to be nice, you’re basically saying, “Hey you, you’re old and weak. Let me remind you that I am young and strong. Please sit down on this lightly padded subway bench, even though it could be possible that I, myself, am incredibly tired as well.” Insidiously offensive? Apparently not.

To be green:

Refuse to pay 10 pesos every time you need to quench your thirst. Recycle those water bottles and simultaneously poison yourself with the carcinogens lodged in the plastic.

To curb your hunger:

Go ahead, spend three pesos on a little box of tic tacs. Don’t think that you’re saving any money though. You are still so hungry that the next day you will have to go and get another 3-peso box from the kiosk on the corner. You might as well have purchased some Don Saturs to build up both your stores of potential energy and the new layer of blubber that has appeared right in time for spring in Argentina.

To feign comprehension:

In a foreign country, just make sure you know how to say, “yes” because it will probably be the only thing you can solidly say to another person to make them think that you understand what they are talking about. When the professor asks you at the end of her three-hour lecture if you got a lot out of the class, just nod your head, smile, say “si,” and run as fast as you can out of the building.

For love:

Expand your waistline as you treat yourself to the cheapest medialunas in Buenos Aires, but only so that in the process of passing the barista behind the counter your one peso, you can be as daring, awkward, and forward as you possibly can by also slipping into his hand a little piece of notebook paper with your number scribbled on it.

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On this glorious day, I thought and/or accomplished these things…all while holding my very free and very delicious steaming latte from the Starbucks a few blocks away from my university.

Oh, the places (I'll) go? Looks like probably NOT!!! 

Across the Pacific.

Casually painting my nails and scrolling through this. I hope you do the same, minus the nail-painting. Well, you can do whatever you want except it's pretty impossible to really do anything else other than stare at these photos. Hence the nail polish all over my fingers.

Gotta love The Atlantic.

Tan-you-gotta-go!

I've decided that the most beautiful people in the world are the ones who know how to tango. Last Wednesday, my loquacious, know-no-boundaries-neighbor invited me to a small tango show around the corner from my house. The invite was an unnecessarily nice gesture, although admittedly I was a bit skeptical when I got to the little concert hall and I was the only person in the audience under 65. As un-ideal as the circumstances might appear (yes, I just made up that word), the whole thing proved to be quite enjoyable, and I’m particularly proud that not one part of me felt the urge to complain that there wasn’t really anyone my age to talk to. And no, the open-bar serving limitless quantities of fresh strawberry and peach daiquiris and Brazilian caipirinha wasn't what made the evening so incredibly great. The show finally got started three hours after the fact (immense technical difficulties in the beginning; they couldn’t get the stage lights figured out…and you’d think this wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but lighting is crucial to a tango show). It was definitely well worth the wait and the $25 entrance fee. It’s not only the passion that could get to any person in the audience—man or woman—it’s the tension between the two partners that has a presence you could throw a lasso around. The movement is complicated, yes. Could I ever do it? No. Do I want to learn? Of course. I do love dance, I totally wish I could dance, but only a few companies can ever really hold my attention, namely Alvin Ailey and his Revelations. Everyone who comes back from Buenos Aires always praises tango, and so I always understood it was something I “had” to do but now I can truly see why. So what’s the basic moral of this story? Listen to the guidebooks and get your butt to a milonga (tango place) ASAP.

From the a visit to the Boca; definitely not the same. But great Nike-swish pants, so had to share all the same.