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!!