Yerba Mate

In Argentina, there's a great tradition of passing around a "bomba" of mate to your close friend or family member. Just sipping through the metal pipe, having conversation, passing it back to your server for more. For some reason the caffeine-effects are not the same as while chugging a venti-size on a playground keeping one eye on Ian and the other on my cold neck. Having no hair makes me feel like a helpless seal in the cold. I am still up, having had a blissfully good feeling day even through some of Ian's emotional rants: "I don't want to go hoooome. I want to go home! Help me! Help me, my head is stuck! I don't want a sweater- said I don't want one!. I want a sweaeter on, I'm coooooold." All the while chugging my tea. Now I'm up thinking about starting the CD compilation exchange group thing Christina set up. When I'm feeling goo, the list of things to get done before "I"m down" seems to grow. Stuff like, get Ian bigger sized underwear sounds like a funny priority, but needed!
Wrote a few songs down and will try to share later. Embarrassingly have to figure out how to burn a cd first.