Wait, wait . . .

This is a subte station. For some reason, I'm really into taking pictures in the subte.

So I have something to admit.

I have not called to change my March 9 flight home to a later date. The idea is to change it to May. But I can't bring myself to do it. Why? I'm scared to make definite plans to go home.

Yes, I just went through and read some of my old blogs, how I was so scared to come here, and I've suddenly found myself 180 degrees away from that -- I start shivering in my boots (or rather, sandals, it's summer here) when I think about setting foot in the good old U.S. of A. So many expectations, so few jobs . . . erk!

This procrastination is really bad though -- I need to call the airline company and change my flight to set a date, or I'll be selling some organs to buy a ticket to get back into tierra madre.

Spotted last Sunday in Buenos Aires' botanical gardens.

It's a good thing my parents are adventuring in Brazil at the moment (look at them!), or they'd be calling to ream me out.

This is in Colonia, Uruguay.