Dear Uruguay,

Please quit being so amazing. Because it quite possibly might kill me when I have to leave.
Thanks.
Love,
Lauren

This place keeps getting under my skin. In a good way. Not like a parasite. And while I absolutely love it, I absolutely hate it because I eventually will have to go back to the states. But I will not hate it, because then I will return to Texas and have in-n-out and hair products and crunchy peanut butter, but still. Uruguay.is.fantastic. I did not think I would like it this much. I really didn't. And now I am here and I am falling in love and anticipating with dread the time that will come when my heart will break. Probably break into a billion pieces that will be scattered all over Montevideo. I am figuring that it will be an experience similar to when I left India, though probably intensified a billion times over, because I will have been here longer. I hate thinking about the fact that I am leaving, I want to be in the moment. But I think I live in the moment with the realization that I am leaving, and it's not necessarily taking anything away from the experience. I think that if it was, I wouldn't hang out with Diego or Ema or try and make friends or do half of the stuff that I do. Maybe, in a bit, it will turn the motivation around and make me push harder to do as much as I can, so that it is the greatest time of my life and I can look back and be happy I made it that way.

Anyway. I haven't been in a particularly great mood as of late and I do not know why. I was completely out of it last night, and I couldn't even blog about the soccer game that we went to, even though it was incredible. And I don't even remember what all I did on Friday. I wish I could. Anyway, last night we went to a soccer game. It was epic. One of the main teams of Uruguay, Peñarol, was playing another team that nobody knows, or, seemingly cares about. It wasn't a big game, but there were plenty of people to make it fun. Not just our group, but all of the die hard peñarol fans. We didn't sit with them, we sat in another part of the stadium, but we could still see them and hear their chanting and see them waving their banners and jumping up and down. The weather could not have been more perfect. Right before dusk, the sun warming us and the stadium but not making it hot,with a breeze blowing through. I looked down into a large, impeccably green feild dotted with men in yellow and black jerseys. After they warmed up for a few minutes, the match started, and everyone went crazy. You would think that at a friendly match, people would be a little more mellow, a little less into the game. Ohh no. Someone has pulled the wool over your eyes if you think that is the case. Because these peñarol fans are still crazy. I probably heard more Spanish expletives in two hours than I have in my whole Spanish career combined. These people love their fútbol. I wish with all my heart that I could understand why Latinos love fútbol so much, but alas, I do not think I ever will. I will try and try and try, but I don't think that I will ever love it as much as the peole here in Uruguay, or Argentina, or Honduras, or anywhere else. And that's ok, but it is just fascinating to see how people get so keyed up over fútbol. It runs through their veins. Save for a few random people I know from Latin American that do not like fútbol, but most of them live for the game. I guess that you could say when I was there I experienced the feeling, but I don't completely understand it. It was wonderful to watch, and I can only imagine the fervor that takes place at World Cup, if this is just a minor game. New life goal: Get to World Cup.

The best part was when peñarol scored a goal at the end. By that time, I had been so immersed in Latin sports culture that I was doing some of the hand motions that they were at the end when peñarol would be so close to making a goal, and then miss it. Or when the other team would get so close, and then miss it. Then, at the end, when one of the players scored a goal, the stadium erupted. It was kind of like a dragon was woken up. Everyone, including myself, was on their feet, cheering and screaming and high-fiving and hugging. The stadium literally crackled with excitement. It was on of the coolest experiences ever. I cannot even imagine being at a world cup or rival game and having your team score a goal. That might be slightly ridiculous. You might not have eardrums after that.

Point is: the game was fantastic.

After the game, I apparently lost my sense of sight, because I tripped on a block of cement in the middle of the sidewalk and made my toe all oozy and bloody. First injury ftw. I put ice on it and cleaned it and it looked like nothing happened. I have a defense system like a werewolf.

Friday night we went out to dinner in Ciudad Vieja. We got dressed up an went to some restaurant on some street. I don't remember either of the names. What a touristy thing to do. Anyway, it was so much fun. I went with the Doctor and some other girls and we had a wonderful time. It was quite wonderful because I felt like there was an appropriate balance of utter absurdity and hilariousness combined with some thoughtfulness. Our conversations ranged from kidnapping babies in Paraguay, to provocative bus adds, to politics (without the close-minded psycho emotional-ness that often comes with politics). Giggling about the waiter and the cortado at the end of the meal put the icing on the cake. I hope we can do that more often.

I found a wonderful little store by the Restaurant with No Name. It had a bag with Michael Jackson's face on it. I almost bought it on an impluse buy. Almost. I saved myself 35 dollars for when we got to BsAs. I pretty much cannot wait to go there. I am counting down the days!

I forgot to mention that at Carnaval I made friends. Because it's what you do. Apparently. They were girls my age, and one of their grandmas was there. People here are so nice. I am going to befriend the whole of Uruguay. Everyone will be my friend. Take that, facebook. I have a picture of the girls and me somewhere, I'll post it when I find it.

I seem to be spending a lot of time in cafés. Not that I mind, but I find that I frequent them a lot. I think it is because I have a mild cortado addiction. Cortado is God's gift to man. If you think I am jesting with you, I am not. At all. Cortado is incredibleee. So incredible that it is featured as the picture on the right of my blog. It is that good. I could drink it every day. Except that would mean I would have to go to a café every day. Hm. I might know of one.

The hamburger people still think I'm crazy! I went today to get a burger and see if I could get something I wanted, but I could not order my hamburguesa quesolechugamaizketchup because that is not what it comes with. Why, Lucas, why?! I just want four things! What is so wrong with that?! I will pay you extra! An extra dollar for your freaking trouble! Even though it is not hard to put lettuce, cheese, ketchup, and corn between two pieces of bread!!!

Ps. I bought a maté mug.
P.p.s. I love my life.