Moving

I am moving for the first time in my life.  Well, technically the second time, but the first time around I was 2, so it does not count. 

First, I came to terms with the idea.  I've known about this move for over 3 months now, but I did not feel like it was real until a couple of weeks ago when I was supposed to give a list of all my stuff and its price to the insurance company. It is easy to put a price on shoes and bags, because I know how much did I pay for them.  It is hard to put a price on a piece of paper saying "It is your birthday, have $50 in the Itunes Store" because its nominal value is of about $0.02, and its sentimental value is just not valuable for the insurance companies.  That's when it started to get to me.

After my insurance list, I had to pick a new home.  I have always lived in the same home, with the same people.  Also, for as far as I remember, we always have more or less the same visitors.  There is always someone making noise somewhere in the house.  I had to pick a home to be all alone in it, or to start again with new inhabitants, or to lure new visitors.  In my house I know where everything is, and where everything used to be, and why is it there, and when was it moved.  Now, I have to start all over again. 

I decided to avoid in my new home the few things I dislike about my current one.  I had an important set of "no-no's".  First of all: no stairs.  I currently live in a fourth floor without elevator, so I decided to move into a house.  Second: no neighbors blocking my car, so I looked for a house with its own parking space.  Third: no communitarian services and/or someone to manage them.  All my wishes came true, I am lucky.

House chosen, insurance papers filled, I had to pack it all.  40 huge boxes came out of my room.  What is all that!?!?  Will I wear this again??  I have to leave behind my family and my home... I was not going to leave my clothes as well.  They can all come, the picking will be done later, when I have the time or the head.  After it was over and the boxes left in a container, it hit me hard.

There it was, the room I had lived in for the past 20 years (I used to sleep in the one right next to it before, I am not cheating with my age), completely empty.  There was the furniture, the bed, and the old TV I am not taking with me... but that was it.  No ornaments, no personality, no mess (I am indeed a very messy person).  It looks huge.  It seems not mine.  It breaks my heart.

And now, it is time for the farewell parties, the phone calls and the hugs.  As I start crossing out names of the list of People I Must See Before I Part, my heart starts feeling a little like my room.  Empty, without personality, without a mess.  I leave and my friends, family, enemies, and acquaintances stay.  I know there's email and Skype, and I still feel like I don't know how will I be able to survive without them.  Of course I know I will, I just have not figured out exactly how.

Grinch

When I say I don't like Christmas, I think I am being unfair with the holiday.  I don't like some of the things that surround Christmas, not Dec. 25 per se. 

First of all, traffic in Mexico City becomes impossible.  Average car speed goes from 13 mi/hr (which was already sucky) to 5 mi/hr.  I know around 80 cities.  None of them have a car speed of 5 mi/hr.  My regular commuting time between my office and home is 60-70 minutes.  From Dec. 12 and until Dec. 25, this commuting time is increased to over 300 minutes.   That is more than two hours driving.  That is more than I can take.

The second thing I dislike about the holidays is that, since everyone is leaving for a 2 week vacation, people try to fix in five days what they did not do during the whole year.  Customers and suppliers are expecting processes that take 3 months to suddenly get fixed in one week.  They have to leave everything closed, and they act like you are obliged to work 15 hours a day to help them.  Guess what?  Things take what they take, regardless of your Out of the Office plans.  Ah, if only I could work while I drive...

Regarding presents, don't get me wrong: I love giving out presents.  When I see something that reminds me of someone, I buy it, and wrap it, and write an awesome card with it.  I love people's birthdays because it gives me the chance to get them what I thought all year long that would be nice to give them.  However, I don't understand how is it that Christian humanity came to terms with buying everyone you know a present for Jesus' birthday. If you come from a huge family, like myself, you would have to spend a huge amount of money to make everyone happy.  Second, it is impossible to find something special for all of them.  What I end up doing every year is find something special for a few people, and then buy random sweaters or pajamas for everyone else.  What has happened also historically is that I am that person that is left behind in everyone else's list and I always get random sweaters or pajamas.  I know they try, and I know they spend money on me... but why should we?  Why can't we just give each other our Christmas present when we find something we like??  Another minor but existent annoyance is the fact that you cannot go shopping without having to listen to Christmas Carols all day long. 

Finally, what I dislike the most is all that talk about love and generosity and peace.  People are still full of hate and greed and war.  They will not change, not even for this two weeks.  They can put up a tree, and deck the halls with boughs of glory... they are still the same crooks.   

The bright side is that it lasts only a few weeks, and it is only once a year.  Merry Christmas!

Ley Anti-Obesidad

Una breve que se me ocurrió hoy camino a la oficina.  Adentro de las escuelas ya no permiten la venta de papitas, chicharrones, refrescos y demás artículos engordadores para nuestras juventudes.  Lo que vi hoy fue al señor del puesto de papitas, chicharrones, refrescos y demás artículos engordadores ENRIQUECERSE con una manada de niños que pedían a sus padres dinero para "comprar su lunch porque adentro ya no venden".

Conclusión: Los niños siguen echándose sus papitas de lunch y siento igual de obesos y malnutridos.  La diferencia es que ahora los que las venden lo hacen al doble de precio porque se saben dueños del mercado  y no pagan impuestos.  ¡¡Felicidades, señor papero, el gobierno de la Ciudad a su servicio!!

Thanksgiving

I have seen more than 20 sunsets in beautiful beaches, feeling the breeze and listening to the waves sing Happy Birthday.  I have had a Bahama Mamma in the Bahamas, and snorkeled in a private island.  I stood on a glacier, navigated through a fjord, and flew in a helicopter.  I saw movies, I went to delicious restaurants, I snuggled under the covers and watched TV.  I went to Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.  I shed an excitement tear staring at the fireworks.  All this I did holding your hand, and I am thankful for that. 

I had fun in Hollywood, and shopped in Palm Springs. I went to the Feria del Mole, and we got lost and it was fun.  I went to a luchadores party, and had giant Margaritas and chiles en nogada.  I met a baby made by someone I love.  All this I did with my best friends in the world, and I am thankful for them.

I went to Italy, Brussels, Argentina, Brazil, and Guatemala.  I am a Plantinum Elite member of Onepass.  All this I did because I have a job that makes me happy, that keeps me challenged, that takes me places and pays the bills.  I am very thankful for that. 

I have the most amazing family.  I have healthy parents who love me, and they are the most beautiful example of everything I want to be when I grow old.  I have a baby niece who is learning to say my name.  I have a teenage cousin who somehow grew and I did not notice.  I have a grandma that laughs with me every time we see each other.  I have a million noisy aunts.  I have a baby sister that is my best friend, my sidekick, my other half, my most favorite person in the universe.  I am thankful for each one of them in a way that I cannot even describe.  

I am thankful for Ipads at airports, for NFL games, for matching outfits.  I am thankful for cebiches and Asian food.  I am thankful for Hello Kitty blankets.  I think I rank among the luckiest persons alive, and I am very thankful.

The Italian Odyssey Grand Finale

Three days passed and there was no bag.  At first, they did not know where it was.  Then they found it in Frankfurt, and although they have like fifteen flights from Frankfurt every day, they decided to send it on the last one on Thursday (I arrived on Tuesday).  Then, when it finally arrived to Venice, they decided to wait one day to send it to the hotel "because it was very far away from the airport."  My hotel was a 50 minutes drive away.  In Mexico City that is practically the same neighborhood, but anyways... I guess it made sense because one day later the hotel MAGICALLY BECAME CLOSER.  Rwar!

Anywho, this situation, very similar to one described before, is like an invitation for Unasked-For Missing Baggage Advice.  I kept complaining in Twitter and people kept telling me: "Why don't you call them?"  Ahem, man, they already told me the thing is in Frankfurt, coming on the last plane.  Me calling them will not accelerate that process, I promise.  In any case, I will piss someone off so bad it will actually delay my bag delivery one more day.

People said: "They should pay you!!!"  Yes, they offered amicably to pay up to $600 USD.  The process was that I bought clothes and toiletries with my own money and then they would refund me.  REMEMBER I WAS BROKE!?!??!  I did not have $600 USD.  My credit cards were all maxed out.  "They should write you a check!"  Well, they should but they didn't. 

Finally, one of my favorites: "You should file a complaint!"  That never occurred to me!!!  Duh, I did.  I filed a complaint.  I was not rude but not polite either.  I explained the situation.  I let them know I was a Platinum member.  I even let them know I had been using the same panties since Monday morning... Guess what???  My bag still took four days.

On Friday I arrived to the hotel after long work hours and there it was.  Huge and black.  The lock was still on.  I opened it smiling, eager to wear high heels and jeans my own size.  Everything was there, smiling back at me... completely wet.  "You should file a complaint!"  "Why don't you call them?"  "They should pay you!!!"  I called them, I complained, they will not pay, OK?

Finally we went to Venice and it was pretty cool.  The second day it was very rainy and if you have ever been to Venice you can understand it is not very good for tourism, but good for wine and more pasta and more pizza.  I finally returned to Mexico and my bag came with me all the way. 

Now that a few weeks have gone by, I can only remember the cool air gently blowing on my nose in front of Saint Mark, the amazing halls in the Doge's Palace, and the laughs while having Irish Coffee.  If it weren't for the pictures, I would not even remember what I was wearing.

The Italian Odyssey Part II

I left the baggage claim section of the airport, still a little bummed for not having my bag, but very happy to be in Italy.  The best thing about it all was that my friend Pondia was there and she's always got my back.  She is the kind of person that if you are falling off a cliff she would fall faster and have a soft landing cushion for you to land and would be waiting right next to it with a glass of whisky.  Really, that's how much of my back she's got. 

My mom taught me never to discuss money in conversations, but she never said anything about blogging, so let me confess: I am awfully broke.  Don't get me wrong, I have an awesome job with a juicy paycheck that comes every month.  Unfortunately, I also have this  urge to travel a lot.  I went to the Bahamas in the Spring on a cruise with the Bear and we decided that cruising was awesome and we wanted to do it again.  Again was this September when we decided to cruise Alaska.  Before that we went to the beach a thousand times because we were tired or it was my birthday or we just wanted to go to the beach.  We also went to Palm Springs because we wanted to go to Coachella (note to self: write a blog about Coachella) and to Orlando because I always go to Orlando for Halloween. 

The thing is that every time I go on vacation I spend like my credit card is on vacations too.  I cannot resist outlets, American Wal*Mart (Mexican Wal*Mart is very different and I hate it), Abercrombie, and Target.  Yes, I'm Mexican white trash and I love it.  The mechanics of this compulsive buying goes like this: I buy and buy and buy and buy and buy and then my credit card maxes out and ladies in stores will look at me with lamb eyes and a voice as if she was informing the death of someone and say: "Sorry, credit not approved."  And what will I do?  I WILL TAKE OUT ANOTHER CARD!!!  Somebody help me, I'm sick!!  This goes on and on.  If the trip is long enough, I will max out ALL of my credit cards, and that is what happened in Orlando.  Worry not, I was still able to buy my Hogwarts sweatshirt and four pairs of shoes.

Aaaaaaaanywho, I'm broke.  Back to Italy...

I found Mary at the airport and told her about my bag, she said she had my back (told ya!).  We went to get a cab and showed them the address of the hotel.  They said this was one hour away and it would be around 150€.  Whaaaaaaaat??? In Mexico for 150€ you can go to Acapulco by plane (points for Mexico)!!  OK, worry not, P&G's got me covered.  Do you accept American Express, Mr. Super Expensive Taxi Man?  No, of course I don't, this is Europe.  We take Diners Club, but American Express is out of the question.  GRRRR.  The not-so-kind taxi driver suggested that I went to the ATM and took out money.  So I did, and the ATM did not take Amex either.  I was coat-less in the cold, penny-less, and 100km away from where I was supposed to be.  Mary, in her true spirit, said: I can pay for the taxi, and when you find an ATM that takes Amex, you pay me back.  Do you love this girl or what?  We went to the hotel in Castelfranco Veneto, we found an ATM that took Amex, and we walked around to get to know the town.  We had an awesome pasta for dinner, with a 9€ wine bottle (in Mexico for 9€ there's no way you get chianti, points for Italy).


The next day I had to go to work so I wear Mary's clothes to the office.  I don't understand a thing the Italians are saying but they are all handsome so I smile at them and say "Si" and they smile back at me and it is good.  They took us out to lunch to a typical Italian place where it was all pizza and pasta... yummy!!! I have pasta.  After a long day of arduous work, I came back to the hotel around 7:00pm full of hope and ask the lady at the check-in desk if my bag is there.  She says no,  I feel sad, but go back to happy again because I am in Italy with one of my best friends and I can go have pizza!! 

This is just the first two days... This will certainly be continued. 

Unasked-For Travel Advice and Requests

Ahhh… I get a lot of unasked-for travel advice.  Some is really cool like: “eat in this restaurant, it was awesome.”  That is, unless it is a frickin’ 300€ per person restaurant or an All the Shrimp You Can Eat restaurant.    Most of the time they are good recommendations, though.

I especially love the pointers when it comes to transportation.  See, where I come from, taxis are rather cheap and they are available anywhere.  Also, the subway is fairly easy to use and very very affordable.  In Europe, for example, taxis are the most unused method of transportation, ergo, they are über expensive.  Getting from anywhere to anywhere costs hundreds of euros.  Trains are easy to use, once you have understood the logistics, the same goes with buses.  Some of these you can use with certain tickets, some you can’t, some you have to “validate”, some you are entitled to and you don’t even know it…  If you can explain to me where should I go, what should I do, and how much I have to pay, I will totally appreciate it (extra points if I do not have to sell internal organs to move around).

Sometimes people give you advice that is totally unnecessary, like you are going to Paris and they say: “You should go to the Eiffel Tower!”  Well, ahem...  I know you mean well (super smiley face).

Finally, there are the tips I really don’t like.  For example: “You should go to this karaoke bar!  I had the most amazing time, got out of there wasted and ended up singing Total Eclipse of the Heart three times in a row!”  OK, people, get over it.  I travel alone most of the time.  You had an amazing time because you were with 17 of your drunk friends.  Another one that gets on my nerves is “This club is amazing!  DJ SUPER DJ mixes there.”  Let’s face it, last time I went clubbing in my own city was 1998, and you know it!!  What makes you think I will re-start now?  Also, DJ SUPER DJ means nothing to me.  There is also the typical: “You’re going to Buenos Aires??  Go to the glaciers in Patagonia!!!”  Well, dude, they are hours away on a plane, I am only going for five days, and it is super expensive to go there.  Nice try! 

Besides unasked-for travel advice, I also get a bunch of crazy requests.  My dad, God bless him, always asks me to bring things that are either not sold wherever I’m going or are much more expensive there.   For example, I am going to Brazil and he asks for whole wheat tortillas.  “Dad,” I say, “I will be in Brazil… they would be a lot easier to buy RIGHT HERE.”  “Fine,” he says.  “Don’t do your father a favor if you don’t want to.”

The one I hate the most (notice I am using the word HATE here)?  When people ask me to bring back hot Italians / Brazilians / Argentineans / Venezuelans / etc.  That is a) illegal; b) not feasible; c) stupid; d) not even original, everybody asks for the same thing every time!  What do you want me to do exactly?  Should I stuff a huge-boobed Venezuelan in my carry on and bring her over?  Newsflash: no.  Can you imagine stopping a handsome Argentinean on the street and asking: “Hey, my friend asked me to bring over an Argentinean… interested?”  What happens next in your crazy fantasy???  He says “Ok, I’ll do it!”  He buys a $1,200 USD ticket to Mexico and meets you and marries you and you have 2.5 children and live happily ever after.  Well, sorry to tell you, but your fantasy is not going to become real, not even if you wish upon a star;  not because dreams can’t come true, but because I AM NOT STOPPING HOT ARGENTINEANS ON THE STREET FOR YOU OR ANYBODY, DAMN IT!!!

The Italian Odyssey

My favorite airlines:

1. Continental

The airlines I totally dislike:

1. Mexicana (mwa ha ha) 
2. Volaris

The airlines that are in the thin line:

1. Lufthansa

Let me explain why... (why Lufthansa, because the Mexicana, Volaris, and Continental stories will be used whenever I cannot think of anything else to write).

So I live in Mexico City and I have to be in a little town in Italy called Castelfranco Veneto.  As you can imagine, there are no such things as the Castelfranco Veneto International Airport nor a direct flight MEXICO –CASTELFRANCO.  After some research I find out that my best shot is to fly to Venice’s airport, called Marco Polo, and from there take a train, bus, or taxi to Castelfranco.

Again, no direct flight from my humble town, so I have to fly to a major European hub and get from there to Venice, so I make a list:

Major European Hub	Airline	Pro’s	Con’s
London	British Airways	Excellent service!	I have a lot more miles with Star Alliance airlines than any other airline / society of airlines.  It is better to have all your miles on the same place because then you can become a mile hog like me and never wanting to use your miles because you just want more and more AND MORE!!!! British is with One World.  I used to have a bunch of One World miles with Mexicana, but they are now lost.  Thank you, Mexicana.
Madrid	Iberia	I speak the language of the actual hub, so I can ask people where the bathroom is or understand what I am ordering for lunch.	I cannot fly on airlines with butter brand names… and they are also part of One World.
Paris	Air France	Air France business class is superb	Sky Team… boooo!!
Amsterdam	KLM	KLM’s first class is even more superb than Air France’s	Schipol airport in Amsterdam is where the Sky Team offices are!  Imagine who is part of it?  Yes, indeed, KLM.  Double booo!!!!!
Rome	Alitalia	Flight to Venice should be fast, a lot	SKY FRICKIN’ TEAM
Frankfurt	Lufthansa	STAR ALLIANCE MILES HELL YEAH!	Whatever, stopped caring when I read that I would get all those miles!!!!

So, after a very thorough research I did two things:  First, I learned that if you want to cross that ocean taking off from Mexico, and get some miles with Star Alliance, you have to go Lufthansa.  Second, I tried to book my two-way-business class ticket with them.  Why tried?  BECAUSE THEY WERE SOLD OUT.

Apparently other Star Alliance Mega Platinum Miles Hogging Mexicans (or Germans travelling to Mexico) have found also that this is the only way.  I could travel one day before, but then I would miss spending a Sunday with my family (and with “my family” I mean the NFL).

I realized that I could travel Mexico – Houston – Frankfurt – Venecia.  Great idea!  Same price, almost 3000 more miles, and I would get to have a Pumpkin Spice Latte at Houston’s Airport Starbucks before they stop selling them for the end of the season.  Success all over the place. 

UNTIL MY BAG GOT LOST.  I probably tried too hard.  Four airports, four different countries, it was bound to happen…   

So I get out of my plane in Venice, and I tenderly wait by the bag’s belt (which in Venice is painted as a giant casino roulette) and I wait and wait.  I wanted to pee, but decided to wait a little more or I’d lose the magical spot right next to the ramp where the bags come out.  I have this little obsession where I think that EVERYONE on the plane has a macabre bag stealing plan, and if I am not right there my valuable bag will be stolen before it reaches me.     So there I am, seeing the roulette numbers pass.  And then they are all covered with bags.  I see all sorts of bags, of all sorts of colors and types.  All the bags with “PRIORITY” tag pass.  Regular bags start coming out now.  Don’t panic, I tell myself, it is probably at the bottom of the bunch because it followed a very strange route.  In the following minutes the roulette numbers start appearing again.  All bags disappear.  All tourists disappear.  My bag is not there and my heart is broken.  

So this is Tuesday afternoon, and I remember putting these clothes on on Monday morning, so I suddenly realize I stink, I am wearing yoga pants, a tank top and Sketchers, and I am supposed to go to work tomorrow.  Frickin’ awesome.  I do not have any kind of cleansing liquid with me (for my hair, my face, my contacts, my ass…).  The horror!!

I see two more dove-eyed fools staring at the roulette.  They too have lost their luggage, they just don’t have the courage to accept it yet.  I still have to pee but I run to the “Lost & Found” booth before they do.  There is only one lady attending and I definitely do not need to stand in another line (if you have not travelled internationally lately, let me describe it for you: it means stand in a bunch of lines, just behind the slowest people in the World).  I ran as fast as my disappointed feet and my full bladder could take me.  

When I got there, a very old man, with his very old wife were filing a report for a missing bag.  They were not on my plane, so who knows how long had they been there.  I love old people, don't get me wrong, but it takes them A LOT OF TIME to do anything.  That is cool when you are listening to a story in traffic ("Tell me more about my Uncle Mike's first poo, grandma!  The past 3 hours flew past me!!!") or when a bunch of old zombies are after you ("We... want... your... brains..."  "If you can catch me, ma'am!!!").  It is not cool when you have to pee, you have no clothes in Venice, and you have been wearing the same yoga pants for over 27 hours (good thing I don't actually do any yoga).  

I will not even get into the details of my Bag Stealing Mafia paranoia.  I almost start crying during the line.  25 minutes later, the elderly couple finished describing their black, upright, medium sized bag (phew, that was easy!) and it was finally my turn.  

Prin (P): ¿Habla español?

Lady Behind the Counter (LBC): *blink*blink*blink*

P: Speak English?

LBC: Yes (strong Italian accent).

P: My bag did not make it

LBC: What airline did you fly?  

P: Lufthansa

LBC: That is the next counter.

The next counter had now a line formed by the two dove-eyed tourists I "outsmarted" 25 minutes before.  

I had to pee so badly that I could think about was pee, I almost forgot my bag was lost.  I went and peed.  When I came back, there were 10 people in the line.  Apparently, they lost their bags in other flights that arrived during my first hour in Italy, while I was being a complete idiot.  

I stood in line for another 30 minutes (these people were a lot younger).  I arrived to a Lady Behind the Counter #2.  

P: Speak English?

LBC2: No.

P: ¿Español?

LBC2: No

P: *blink*blink*

LBC2: *boring stare*

P: Mia maleta es perdita (singing / absolutely fake Mario Bros accent)

LBC2 took out a poster with pictures of bags, I pointed out to one that looked like mine and passed my baggage claim ticket to her.  She writes down in a computer and she prints out some pages.  On these pages it said that my bag would be again with me, protected from the Bag Stealing Mafia, in 24 hours.  

This story will be continued, but you can imagine.

Welcome / Bienvenida

Shakespeare's Language

I am starting this new blog because I stopped liking the interface of Windows Live, and then they moved me to Wordpress, which I liked a lot less. It’s kind of sad because when I wrote there, all my msn messenger friends and stalkers would receive a notification about it and read even if it was just because they were too bored at their offices. Now, I will have to use different ways of publicity and my stalkers would have to subscribe but that will not happen because they don’t want me to know they are stalking me (I’M ON TO YOU!!!).

Also, I feel sad of leaving all my quite interesting over 3 year thoughts over there, so if you ever feel bored in your own office, please visit deunanue.spaces.live.com and you can read for hours and hours. Unless you don’t speak Spanish, because in that case you can read for hours and just that.  The link is:
desdepalacio.wordpress.com


I hope I find interesting things to write about, and I hope I don’t just abandon it the way I did with the other. You'd better tell your friends I am super cool and they should all subscribe.

____

Lengua de Cervantes
Empiezo este nuevo blog porque dejó de gustarme la interfaz de Windows Live y luego me movieron a Wordpress, que me gustó todavía menos. Es un poco triste porque cuando escribía allá, mis amigos y acosadores del msn Messenger recibían una notificación y leían mi blog aunque fuera nada más por estar aburridos en sus oficinas. Ahora tendré que usar diferentes medios de publicidad y mis acosadores tendrán que suscribirse… lo que seguramente no pasará porque no quieren que sepa que me están acosando (¡¡¡AUNQUE YA LO SÉ!!!).

También me siento un poco triste de dejar atrás más de 3 años de interesantes pensamientos, así que si alguna vez se aburren en sus oficinas, por favor visiten deunanue.spaces.live.com y pueden leer por horas y horas… a menos de que no hablen inglés en cuyo caso solamente podrán leer por horas.  El link es:
desdepalacio.wordpress.com

Ojalá encuentre cosas interesantes acerca de las cuales escribir, y espero no abandonarlo por largo tiempo como hacía con el otro blog. Espero que les digan a todos sus amigos que soy súper cotorra y que todos deberían suscribirse.