The times they are a-changin'

. . . says Bob Dylan.

And indeed changes are about in the Argentina compound. For various (amiable!) reasons, my roommates and I have decided to go our separate ways once we ring in the New Year. For me, that means I'll be moving across town to Palermo into a new apartment with two new roommates. The apartment has red walls, a 13th-floor view of the city and a giant giraffe in the living room (it's wooden). New year, new people, new neighborhood, new subte line . . . new adventures.

Alana and Drew on our terrace in October.

As I discovered yesterday, however, my new apartment will also involve learning some new skills, i.e. finally learning to light a gas stove. Pathetic and embarrassing yes, but I have avoided those light-with-a-lighter gas stoves for years, succumbing to my fear that I will light my face on fire and gracefully allowing someone else (Grace Koerber in Italy, for one) to do the lighting themselves. Something about gas and fire gives me the heebie jeebies. It's kind of like driving stick shift. I should reallllly know how to do it, but . . .

Anyway, I went to visit Mechi, my new roommate, yesterday, and she showed me the ins-and-outs of the apartment, including the gas stove and oven. Unless I want to eat PB&J for the next couple months, it looks like it's light or perish for me.

Drinking mate on our terrace in October. One day I will explain mate to you all, but I believe it warrants a whole blog post, so just sit tight for now.

In other news: I am officially on vacation since my school is on break until Jan. 5. Ellen arrives tomorrow, and on Thursday we take off for southern Argentina and Chile. I am trying to convince her to go horseback riding once we arrive in Chile, but if anyone remembers the last time she got on a horse (sorry this is mostly a joke for my uncles), perhaps we should just stick to bicycles.