Mexicanos al grito de guerra... al grito de "¡El tarado del presidente copió su tesis! ¡Revoquen su título! ¡FUERA!" Me gusta ver a mi país unido, me gusta que la gente se apasione por el gobierno que los afecta todos los días. Me gusta que por fin parece que el Facebook, además de para que todos leamos la lista de las 20 cosas que hiciste si naciste en los 90's, funcione también como plataforma de opinión.
Además del gusto, me parece irresponsable la facilidad que tienen los mexicanos de unirse en causas instantáneas, sin mayor investigación, sin necesidad de seguimiento, sin considerar la relación que tienen los eventos con ellos mismos y con el futuro de la sociedad de la que forman parte. Yo también fui a la escuela en México. Yo también vi a la gente copiar, sacar acordeones, preguntarle a su amigo, y bajarse de Encarta todos los trabajos finales (disculpen, soy más grandecita, todavía no había Wikipedia). ¿Cómo esperan que el presidente sea diferente a como son todos los demás? Que el que esté libre de pecado tire la primera piedra, dirían por ahí. ¿Ya revisamos la tesis de Aristegui? ¿Y todos sus reportajes? ¿Y la de sus papis, mamis, espositos y demás proveedores? ¿La de ustedes mismos, ya la revisaron?
Mi punto no es "Mal de muchos, consuelo de tontos." El caldo de cultivo de la clase política mexicana es una sociedad en la que se copia, se compran películas piratas, se hace trampa en el examen, no se pagan impuestos porque al final, quién va a venir a cobrarlos (¡y todo se lo roban, pinches ratas!), se tiene una chamba (o un título) a punta de favores y amistades, se le invitan los pomos al maestro para pasar las materias, se le prefieren dar $200 al policía que pagar las infames multas, etc. etc. etc. ¿Qué esperábamos de nuestros políticos?
Mal de muchos, consuelo de nadie; pero hasta que los muchos cambien, los pocos que están a la cabeza no harán más que reflejar su alrededor, vengan del partido que vengan. Si queremos una clase política responsable, íntegra, con los intereses del país como prioridad, lo primero es crear una sociedad con estos mismos principios. ¿CADA UNO DE USTEDES TIENE AL BIENESTAR DE MÉXICO COMO PRIORIDAD #1? Qué difícil, ¿no?
Por mí que cambien a Peña por otro. No creo que sea un buen presidente, no creo que sea siquiera un buen tipo. Pero... ¿por quién? Por alguien a quien le revisen la tesis, y las propiedades, y los calcetines (que no los vaya a usar al revés), y el predial, y las finanzas del o de la cónyugue. Alguien que haga que por fin baje la gasolina, y que los atletas olímpicos ganen muchas medallas. Alguien que se preocupe por los pobres, alguien que regrese el reglamento de tránsito a como estaba antes. Alguien a quien no se le inunde el Periférico y que evite que se congelen los tarahumaras. Alguien que no permita nunca que suba el precio del limón, y que mantenga el dólar a $10.00. Alguien que encarcele a todos los narcos y encuentre a los de Ayotzinapa. Todo esto mientras nosotros opinamos por Facebook, no vamos a votar, copiamos en nuestros exámenes, no pagamos impuestos y le damos morida a los polis. Yo creo que sí se puede, ¿no?
Aug 23, 2016
Jan 13, 2015
JE SUIS CHARLIE POUR TOUJOURS!!!!
"Je ne suis Charlie, pas!" Así han reaccionado algunas personas ante la reacción hacia los atentados de la semana pasada (y sí: parecen reaccionar más ante la reacción que ante los apabullantes hechos).
En este afán de volverlo todo controversia, ha surgido un grupo que no piensa que el ataque a Charlie Hebdo sea un ataque a la libertad de expresión, porque Charlie Hebdo es una publicación de tercera que no respeta religiones, creencias o inclinaciones. "Por supuesto que lo que pasó en Paris es deplorable..." Hacen el disclaimer antes de explicarnos por qué, en su opinión, no estamos frente a un atentado en contra de la Libertad de Expresión (así, con mayúsculas innecesarias), sino una demostración de un grupo radical en contra de una publicación ofensiva.
Yo les pregunto... ¿Qué tan más o menos grave estaría el asunto si los 12 muertos trabajaran en Le Monde? ¿Menos aún si alguien se pone a dispararles a los editores de El Libro Vaquero?
La Libertad de Expresión no aplica nada más para las publicaciones respetables, ni para los diplomáticos que no ofenden jamás a nadie. Yo también tengo mi blog y no me gustaría que se me ofendieran los que no saben dejar el blanco en paz después de Labor Day y vinieran a plomearme a la oficina. El ideal de la libertad de expresión incluye a los radicales islámicos del Jihad y a los caricaturistas de cuarta (ya los demoví) de Charlie Hebdo.
¿Es buena idea ofender al profeta Mahoma con tu libertad de expresión? ¡¡¡Que lo decida el que se está expresando!!! Yo no lo haría y no compraría una revista en donde lo hicieran; pero existe un derecho inherente a la cultura occidental que es el de imprimir en un periódico lo que el periodista decida. No porque no estemos de acuerdo con lo que se dibuja podemos demover lo ocurrido a "una violenta demostración de un grupo radical". Por supuesto que se atentó contra la libertad, ideal imprescindible de la revolución ideológica que, oh ironía, comenzaron los franceses.
Libertad de Expresión, siempre, sí. Libertad de Matar al que Me Contradice: jamás, no, nunca.
Ojalá los hermanos Kouachi vinieran de una cultura donde existieran estos ideales. Así, en lugar de demostrar cuán ofendidos estaban a punta de AK47s, tal vez habrían hecho una caricatura, burlándose de los más profundos valores espirituales de los editores de Charlie Hebdo. Tal vez habrían hecho una declaración llena de furia, denunciando los ataques de la publicación. Los hermanos Kouachi "resolvieron" las cosas como se resuelven donde la Libertad de Expresión se limita a lo que la mayoría comparte, o a los temas en los que la mayoría cree.
No nos pongamos exquisitos con la Libertad de Expresión. Defendámosla siempre, porque es bella, es correcta, promueve el desarrollo humano aunque a veces ofenda en lo más profundo. Pongámonos siempre del lado del que publica, aunque no estemos de acuerdo con lo publicado. Que se proclamen las ideas buenas, las malas, las ofensivas y las asquerosas en papel (o tablet, pues) y nunca con balas.
Por eso, JE SUIS CHARLIE. JE SUIS LIBERTÉ. JE SUIS PARIS.
Jun 5, 2014
Nada Como Un Lugar Común
He notado una nueva tendencia del joven hispanohablante, especialmente en Twitter, Facebook y demás medios de comunicación electrónica masiva, que consiste en formar frases como "Nada como *inserte cualquier actividad / sentimiento / programa televisivo / etc." Si la intención del comunicador es hacer una aseveración de lo obvio, está bien. Nada es como nada. Una cosa es diferente de otra cosa, es lo que las define como cosas diferentes. Si se utiliza para indicar que una cosa es mejor que otra, debe evitarse a toda costa, porque no tiene sentido.
"Nada como la tabla del 2," porque en realidad cada tabla es diferente, pero eso no hace a ninguna de las dos especiales. "Nada como una torta de jamón." Pues no, porque una torta de milanesa no es como una torta de jamón... es de milanesa. Hay a quien le gusta una y a quien le gusta la otra. "Nada como un día soleado en compañía de mi perro." Tienen razón, no hay nada como eso. Tampoco hay nada como un día medio nublado en compañía de George Lucas.
En fin, una nota breve porque nada como el buen castellano...
"Nada como la tabla del 2," porque en realidad cada tabla es diferente, pero eso no hace a ninguna de las dos especiales. "Nada como una torta de jamón." Pues no, porque una torta de milanesa no es como una torta de jamón... es de milanesa. Hay a quien le gusta una y a quien le gusta la otra. "Nada como un día soleado en compañía de mi perro." Tienen razón, no hay nada como eso. Tampoco hay nada como un día medio nublado en compañía de George Lucas.
En fin, una nota breve porque nada como el buen castellano...
Apr 23, 2013
I like.
I like to travel and I am not a travel agent. I like to eat and I am not a chef. I like to laugh and I am not a comedian. I like airplanes and I am not a pilot. I like movies and I am not a producer. I like sunsets and I am not a painter. I like martinis and I am not a barman. I like sex and I am not a prostitute. I like roller coasters and I am not an amusement park employee. I like pretty pictures and I am not a photographer. I like shoes and I am not a shoemaker. I like the beach and I am not a lifeguard. I like parties and I am not a party planner. I like to sleep and I am not a bed tester. I like music and I cannot play an instrument. I like words and I am not a writer. I like ballet and I am not a ballerina. I like clothes and I am not a designer. I like Superman and I am not saving the world. I like art and I don't own a gallery.
I don't like engineering.
I don't like engineering.
Dec 4, 2012
¿Por qué la Prin es malísima onda y no quiere ver un video?
1)
Apoyo Audio Visual Innecesario
Primero, creo que muchos de los videos, al
igual que las fotos que muchos insisten en subir a FB, no necesitaban del apoyo
audiovisual. Permítanme
ejemplificar. Alguien sube esta foto:
Sí, a mí también me dio risa, estuvo
bueno… ¿¿pero era necesaria la foto que consume datos de mi celular?? No.
Esa misma persona podría haber escrito esa misma línea en su status. Así pasa con los videos. Si me gusta una canción, no me interesa ver
al cantante explicándola entre imágenes bizarras; mucho menos ver a un fan
imitando al artista o fotos de paisajes mientras suena la canción. Todas esas imágenes son, para mí, información
innecesaria.
2)
No lo sufcientemente
graciosos o impresionantes
No es un secreto que la gente tiene
diferentes sentidos del humor. A lo
mejor ustedes encuentran hilarante una serie de videos de gente golpéandose
contra vidrios asombrosamente limpios.
Yo no soy nadie para juzgarlos; pero a mí no me da risa. No insistan en que lo vea, ¿para qué? A mí me parece gracioso un trasvesti diciendo
que es darks. En estos casos de “potencial
gracia” generalmente les pido que me cuenten el video… ya después decido si lo
veo. Refiriéndonos al punto #1,
generalmente ya que me lo contaron, ver el video se torna innecesario. Si me dicen: “es un video de un vato que
saltó desde la estratósfera” entonces probablemente piense: ¡Eso lo tengo que
ver! En caso de que decida no ver su
video, por favor no lo tomen personal. Ustedes
no lo hicieron. Que me lo tome personal
Tim Burton que no he visto Frankenweenie, ahí sí.
3)
Ya lo vi.
Odio hacerles saber esto, pero no son
tan vanguardistas como piensan. Ya vi
muchos videos. ¿¿Pero cómo los viste si odias los videos?? No odio los videos en general, sólo odio
los videos que no son graciosos o que representan un apoyo visual innecesario. Dada la pasión que comparten ustedes por
publicar videos en diversas plataformas sociales, hay videos que ya vi y seguramente
no los quiero volver a ver.
Nov 14, 2012
Such is life outside the tropics...
I finally live in a place with seasons. In my new town, unlike within my previous
paradigm, temperatures do not depend on the amount of sunlight. Also, I moved here on the winter, without any
previous experience on simple things like driving in the snow or walking on
frosty pavements. Yet, those topics are
of little interest to me (and probably to the three readers this thing still
has). A ray of inspiration enlightened
me yesterday now that my friend MF is here and she is absolutely clueless about
fashion in the winter (real winter, not Mexican or Panamanian winter). So here it is…
Do’s and Don’ts
between November 01 and April 01 North of the 40° Parallel
- Find out what a Parallel is, then find out where 40° is.
- Do not wear white pants, skirts, etc. (this actually applies for most Parallels, all year long)
- Success is in your ability to use layers. You will be outside at 24F while you walk to the car, but then you will come inside the office / your house / the mall / etc. to be received by 70F. Be prepared to look fabulous at all temperatures during the day.
- Do not wear open shoes unless they are dressy shoes for a formal event. Strappy shoes definitely no-no.
- Learn how to spell definitely (nothing to do with fashion, seasons, or Parallels… but you really need to learn, people!)
- Puffy jackets are not business-casual (I don’t care what you think.), wear a coat for Pete’s sake!
- Wear sleeves. Even if you are going to be indoors, in the heat, wear sleeves. You will have 6 months to wear your sleeveless pieces later.
- Use winter fabrics: wool, cashmere, etc. Cotton is a timeless classic, but wear cotton sweaters, not summer dresses (ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FRICKIN’ MIND?)
- Wear skirts with tights. Patterns are fashionable right now, but not all of them look good with all skirts. You can never go wrong with plain ones. Nobody wants to see your freezing blue legs.
- Floral patterns... really?
- Take your hands out of your pockets; only Calvin Klein models get away with that. Wear gloves.
- If you have to wear a hat or earmuffs, make sure you have products and tools available to fix your hair when you take them off.
- Boots are awesome. Uggs are not boots.
- Sweatshirts, sweatpants, and running pants are for the gym. Don't wear them anywhere else, I don't care how cold you are.
Oct 23, 2012
Matrimonio y Mortaja
Aquí una breve explicación no pedida de mi ausencia del mundo del blog.
Yo no concía a mucha gente que se hubiera muerto. Dios me bendijo con familias longevas, con amigos inmortales (hasta ahora) y con pocas visitas a Gayosso. Tampoco me había casado nunca... ni siquiera me lo había imaginado, vaya. Siendo yo como soy, estaba casi convencida de que el vestido blanco y la casa en los suburbios no eran para mí. Un día de noviembre del año pasado pidieron mi mano y al día siguiente se murió mi abuela. Matrimonio y mortaja, que le dicen.
No tengo el bloqueo del escritor cuando estoy triste. Una vez estaba triste y escribí mi primer novela. Tampoco me viene cuando estoy contenta, aunque generalmente entonces es cuando escribo canciones malas y me da por leer a Benedetti y a Sabines y no escribo más que de amores. La mezcla sentimental es la que me confunde. Me sentía culpable por ser feliz al ver mi anillo cuando la mamá de mi papá se había muerto y mi papá estaba triste. Mecanismo de defensa: zombie emocional.
Después viene el planear una boda; una tarea compleja como muchos otros blogs mucho más especializados que el mío les podrán narrar. Estaba bien emocionada (todavía lo estoy). ¡Voy a pasar la vida entera con el mejor hombre del mundo! Lo malo es que, por otro lado, elegir lugares, vestidos, colores, invitados, etc. es agotador. El zombie emocional persistía, el bloqueo del escritor más fuerte que nunca. Dejé mi diario, dejé mis cartas a la familia y a los amigos y me conformé con agasajarme diariamente con la puta de todos los escritores: el twit ocasional.
En medio de la planeación de la boda y con afán de acelerar algunos planes migratorios, vino mi matrimonio civil. Una cenita formal, una jueza muy amable y ya es uno la Señora de Escalona ante la sociedad. Al día siguiente en la mañana me habló mi tío Chupón. Me felicitó por el evento y se disculpó por no haber estado ahí. Fue la última vez que hablé con él porque se murió menos de un mes después, el día que me entregaron mi vestido de novia. Mi vestido era perfecto y mi tio estaba muerto. Me olvidé en aquella ocasión de hasta mi puta.
Todo pasa, sin embargo, todo pasa. Se me han muerto un tio y una abuela, pero no se confundan: también he sido la novia más hermosa del mundo. El zombie regresa a su humana realidad poco a poco, porque de la pelea entre matrimonio y mortaja, ganó el matrimonio. Mi tio y mi abuela siguen muertos; pero ahora tengo un muso eterno, un diamante hermoso, una sonrisa indeleble y, sorprendentemente, ganas de escribir. Se me desentumen los dedos al sentir que las dicotomías de mi vida (que al final el matrimonio y la mortaja son sólo ejemplos, metáforas, extrapolaciones) se solucionan poco a poco también. Adiós, zombie emocional, véte con tu puta el Twitter y déjame a mí escribir a mis anchas, aunque nadie lea que total no importa.
Yo no concía a mucha gente que se hubiera muerto. Dios me bendijo con familias longevas, con amigos inmortales (hasta ahora) y con pocas visitas a Gayosso. Tampoco me había casado nunca... ni siquiera me lo había imaginado, vaya. Siendo yo como soy, estaba casi convencida de que el vestido blanco y la casa en los suburbios no eran para mí. Un día de noviembre del año pasado pidieron mi mano y al día siguiente se murió mi abuela. Matrimonio y mortaja, que le dicen.
No tengo el bloqueo del escritor cuando estoy triste. Una vez estaba triste y escribí mi primer novela. Tampoco me viene cuando estoy contenta, aunque generalmente entonces es cuando escribo canciones malas y me da por leer a Benedetti y a Sabines y no escribo más que de amores. La mezcla sentimental es la que me confunde. Me sentía culpable por ser feliz al ver mi anillo cuando la mamá de mi papá se había muerto y mi papá estaba triste. Mecanismo de defensa: zombie emocional.
Después viene el planear una boda; una tarea compleja como muchos otros blogs mucho más especializados que el mío les podrán narrar. Estaba bien emocionada (todavía lo estoy). ¡Voy a pasar la vida entera con el mejor hombre del mundo! Lo malo es que, por otro lado, elegir lugares, vestidos, colores, invitados, etc. es agotador. El zombie emocional persistía, el bloqueo del escritor más fuerte que nunca. Dejé mi diario, dejé mis cartas a la familia y a los amigos y me conformé con agasajarme diariamente con la puta de todos los escritores: el twit ocasional.
En medio de la planeación de la boda y con afán de acelerar algunos planes migratorios, vino mi matrimonio civil. Una cenita formal, una jueza muy amable y ya es uno la Señora de Escalona ante la sociedad. Al día siguiente en la mañana me habló mi tío Chupón. Me felicitó por el evento y se disculpó por no haber estado ahí. Fue la última vez que hablé con él porque se murió menos de un mes después, el día que me entregaron mi vestido de novia. Mi vestido era perfecto y mi tio estaba muerto. Me olvidé en aquella ocasión de hasta mi puta.
Todo pasa, sin embargo, todo pasa. Se me han muerto un tio y una abuela, pero no se confundan: también he sido la novia más hermosa del mundo. El zombie regresa a su humana realidad poco a poco, porque de la pelea entre matrimonio y mortaja, ganó el matrimonio. Mi tio y mi abuela siguen muertos; pero ahora tengo un muso eterno, un diamante hermoso, una sonrisa indeleble y, sorprendentemente, ganas de escribir. Se me desentumen los dedos al sentir que las dicotomías de mi vida (que al final el matrimonio y la mortaja son sólo ejemplos, metáforas, extrapolaciones) se solucionan poco a poco también. Adiós, zombie emocional, véte con tu puta el Twitter y déjame a mí escribir a mis anchas, aunque nadie lea que total no importa.
Nov 10, 2011
Costumbres
Me he desacostumbrado a ser feliz, a que las cosas pasen a mi gusto y a mi tiempo. Me parece extraño cuando mis deseos se vuelven realidad. Me toman por sopresa las buenas noticias, tengo acalambrados los músculos de la sonrisa.
Oct 3, 2011
Lejos.
Qué lejos está la Louisiana central de todo lo que me gusta, de todo lo que conozco y de todo lo que amo. Qué lejos está el siguiente lunes...
Sep 5, 2011
Pearl Jam Unplugged
I started to watch my brand new Pearl Jam DVD of an MTV Unplugged session and I had to stop.
Pearl Jam is to watch with friends, to rejoice in triple beer and be carried on someone's shoulder to see Eddie Vedder. Pearl Jam is to share a tear with Black, and to dance ecstatic doing the Evolution, baby. Pearl Jam is to dread Yellow Ledbetter.
No, Pearl Jam is not to watch alone on a cloudy, rainy, holiday. Someday they will come to Ohio, and I shall rewrite those memories too.
Pearl Jam is to watch with friends, to rejoice in triple beer and be carried on someone's shoulder to see Eddie Vedder. Pearl Jam is to share a tear with Black, and to dance ecstatic doing the Evolution, baby. Pearl Jam is to dread Yellow Ledbetter.
No, Pearl Jam is not to watch alone on a cloudy, rainy, holiday. Someday they will come to Ohio, and I shall rewrite those memories too.
Aug 31, 2011
"Life" in Cayman
In Cayman I wake up when the dim light that manages to pass through the tiny space left between the curtain and the wall allows it to. I never hear an alarm clock, I never have to hit the snooze button, I want to wake up when the ray of light says it's time to.
I can wear whatever I want to wear, any colors, any lengths... I can take my time and make my hair look pretty. I can sing while I shower, and I spend many many minutes there without even counting them. I use all the imaginable body and hair products. I smell awesome.
I have feasts for breakfast, not the same boring cheerio's bowl and the same boring diluted coffee. I read the paper and all the news are good. In Cayman I never hear about how many people died in Mexico because of the drug wars, or about the world's poor economy. All the news are about fashion, and parties, and jewelery, and shoes. I laugh all the time, there is always something fun to talk about. I can share my opinion, and you would listen, and you share yours and I listen and most of the time we agree.
Nobody calls me on the phone with the words: "We have a problem." I never have a problem. We have breakfast and then we walk to the beach. They give us a free towel and we pick our spot next to the ocean. We are still laughing and we are watching the immensity of the big blue, the occasional cruise ship, and the pirate boat (a tourist attraction). We read from our books and not from our emails, we share what we are reading, and then we walk on the beach.
We stroll slowly, while we talk and make plans, and sometimes we put our feet in the warm water. I write our initials on the sand and then the tide takes them away. We see crabs and fish, and we run after them and then we laugh again. The sun is good and warm and keeps us tanned and gorgeous.
I can wear whatever I want to wear, any colors, any lengths... I can take my time and make my hair look pretty. I can sing while I shower, and I spend many many minutes there without even counting them. I use all the imaginable body and hair products. I smell awesome.
I have feasts for breakfast, not the same boring cheerio's bowl and the same boring diluted coffee. I read the paper and all the news are good. In Cayman I never hear about how many people died in Mexico because of the drug wars, or about the world's poor economy. All the news are about fashion, and parties, and jewelery, and shoes. I laugh all the time, there is always something fun to talk about. I can share my opinion, and you would listen, and you share yours and I listen and most of the time we agree.
Nobody calls me on the phone with the words: "We have a problem." I never have a problem. We have breakfast and then we walk to the beach. They give us a free towel and we pick our spot next to the ocean. We are still laughing and we are watching the immensity of the big blue, the occasional cruise ship, and the pirate boat (a tourist attraction). We read from our books and not from our emails, we share what we are reading, and then we walk on the beach.
We stroll slowly, while we talk and make plans, and sometimes we put our feet in the warm water. I write our initials on the sand and then the tide takes them away. We see crabs and fish, and we run after them and then we laugh again. The sun is good and warm and keeps us tanned and gorgeous.
In Cayman I don't have to connect to meetings, and listen for hours with nothing to say. I ride on a huge van with the steering wheel on the "wrong side" to Georgetown, and I stare at jewels that I could never afford. I ask for the prices of watches that cost more than my car, and I smile as the lady explains to me all the good characteristics of the time pieces, as if trying to explain why all the zeros in the price.
My projects go perfectly. My main initiative is being happy and telling everybody that it is my birthday. I achieve it with no effort. People give me free dessert and wish me a happy birthday, and they kinda mean it, and they always smile. I never see a frown, I never feel unwelcome. I don’t mind staying here for the weekend, who would?
In Cayman we share a bottle of pink champagne listening to the waves at night, watching the sky and looking for shooting stars. I’m happy you were there to see me see a shooting star for the first time. Then we see another one and we laugh a little more. We hold hands. The air is warm and sweet, the sand is soft and cozy. Our main concern is that mosquitoes might get to us... that is the extent of our worries.
Aug 26, 2011
Vidas en Venta
Además de los ya muy retuiteados y feisbuqueados intentos de la sociedad cibernauta por tener una opinión política, a mí lo que me preocupa es la falta de esperanza. No porque no haya opciones de gobierno... qué caray, esas nunca las hubo en mi país. O que, ¿se creyeron eso de que cuando ganara otro partido político se acabarían todos nuestros problemas? La corrupción ha oxidado el azul y el amarillo, tanto como oxidó al tricolor... No es eso, no.
En donde residen mi miedo, mi frustración y mi falta de fé, es en el miedo que me da ya la escala de valores del grupo (grande o pequeño, mayoría o minoría) que ejerce estos actos de violencia en México. Como bien dijo un gemelo que conozco, van 35,000 muertos y ahorita todo mundo se pone político. ¿De dónde salen tantos muertos, quién los hace?
Disparar un arma no debe ser fácil. ¿Qué fuerza, qué coraje, qué valor, qué ideas deben estar detrás de ese dedo para animarlo a jalar el gatillo? ¿Por qué? En las grandes guerras, en las máximas matanzas, nunca he sentido yo que un pueblo se volque contra sí mismo por dinero nada más. ¿Qué tanto dinero le pueden pagar a alguien por matar a alguien más? ¿Qué tanto por quemar a 52? ¿Qué tanto por disparar con una ametralladora contra un restaurante en el que se pueden morir niños y mujeres? A ti que estás leyendo, ¿cuánto te tendrían que pagar por matar a alguien? ¿Cuánto por verlo a los ojos y dispararle entre las cejas, para después cortarle la cabeza, poner el cuerpo en la cajuela y botarlo afuera de Televisa Santa Fé. ¿Por cuánto lo harías? Si fueras un soldado... ¿qué tanto trabajo te costaría matar a un soldado enemigo, igual a ti, en la línea de fuego?
Esta gente lo hace todo el tiempo. No matan por hambre, no matan por defender a su patria, no matan por luchar por un ideal. Ese es su "empleo." Los narcos y los ejecutores de los narcos... ¿por qué la furia? ¿por qué el odio? Los asesinos en serie, los violadores, los tiranos... todos demuestran dejos de conciencia de una forma u otra. Cubren a sus víctimas después de matarlas a sangre fría. Los que no lo hacen, son considerados "psicópátas". ¿Cuántos psicópatas hay en México? Es una enfermedad incurable.
No me horroriza que hayan matado a 52 ayer... me horroriza que en mi país la vida de todos está en venta y hay quien paga y hay quien cobra.
En donde residen mi miedo, mi frustración y mi falta de fé, es en el miedo que me da ya la escala de valores del grupo (grande o pequeño, mayoría o minoría) que ejerce estos actos de violencia en México. Como bien dijo un gemelo que conozco, van 35,000 muertos y ahorita todo mundo se pone político. ¿De dónde salen tantos muertos, quién los hace?
Disparar un arma no debe ser fácil. ¿Qué fuerza, qué coraje, qué valor, qué ideas deben estar detrás de ese dedo para animarlo a jalar el gatillo? ¿Por qué? En las grandes guerras, en las máximas matanzas, nunca he sentido yo que un pueblo se volque contra sí mismo por dinero nada más. ¿Qué tanto dinero le pueden pagar a alguien por matar a alguien más? ¿Qué tanto por quemar a 52? ¿Qué tanto por disparar con una ametralladora contra un restaurante en el que se pueden morir niños y mujeres? A ti que estás leyendo, ¿cuánto te tendrían que pagar por matar a alguien? ¿Cuánto por verlo a los ojos y dispararle entre las cejas, para después cortarle la cabeza, poner el cuerpo en la cajuela y botarlo afuera de Televisa Santa Fé. ¿Por cuánto lo harías? Si fueras un soldado... ¿qué tanto trabajo te costaría matar a un soldado enemigo, igual a ti, en la línea de fuego?
Esta gente lo hace todo el tiempo. No matan por hambre, no matan por defender a su patria, no matan por luchar por un ideal. Ese es su "empleo." Los narcos y los ejecutores de los narcos... ¿por qué la furia? ¿por qué el odio? Los asesinos en serie, los violadores, los tiranos... todos demuestran dejos de conciencia de una forma u otra. Cubren a sus víctimas después de matarlas a sangre fría. Los que no lo hacen, son considerados "psicópátas". ¿Cuántos psicópatas hay en México? Es una enfermedad incurable.
No me horroriza que hayan matado a 52 ayer... me horroriza que en mi país la vida de todos está en venta y hay quien paga y hay quien cobra.
Aug 5, 2011
Sopilín's Visit and the Downsides of Matriarchy
I move to Cincinnati and everyone back home thinks it is a fascinating city in the US. Having been only to venues like Orlando, LA, Chicago or NY they can hardly picture the easy life of the midwest. I let them know that, although not a small city, there is not much going on here other than eating, enjoying a day at the pool, and shopping... lots of shopping.
Most people lose interest immediately, and that is probably why I have not had any visitors in the past 6 months. However, my 14yr old cousin thinks it's the best place in the world... eating, pool, and shopping??? Compared to the rest of her summer, spent mostly with my aunts and watching telenovelas with my grandma: paradise.
So I tell her to come, she convinces her dad to pay for the ticket, and she decides to spend the last two weeks of her summer here. Everyone back home is super nervous because she has not traveled a lot internationally. What if you need special permit to leave the country with a minor? What if she gets lost in the airport? What if her ears hurt in the plane (runs in the family)?!? I, knowing that she is neither stupid nor 5, tell all my aunts not to worry.
We are having the best time on our own. You don't need anything to leave the country with a minor (mmmhhh...), and she did not get lost in the airport. Her ears did hurt on the plane, but she took an aspirin, got over it and that was it. We went to my place and she liked it, I showed her around, we went to the supermarket and bought things we thought we would crave in the following days and that was our first night in Cinci... then the madness started.
First, I need to give you a brief background of my family. My mom has three sisters. Each one has only daughters (no sons) and even one of those daughters has a daughter of her own. My aunts and mom would kill me for revealing their age, but let's say they are between 45 and 65. Last year with me moving and all, they discovered instant messaging and Facebook, which they mainly use to spy on their daughters and nieces, and play Farmville like crazy.
Given that background, let me assure you the first thing I did as soon as we landed was call everyone: "Hey guys, we landed, we survived, we're going home now... and then to the supermarket, because we need food for the rest of the week. Call you later, love you, bye." And then it began... The first signs of madness appeared on FB. One of my aunts kept writing to me: "POST PICTURES OF EVERYTHING YOU ARE DOING!!" We were basically walking in the supermarket, hardly worth a FB picture, but I did it anyways because I know they miss my cousin. So I do it, and three seconds later she writes: "MORE PICTURES". Damn it, man. We are doing exactly what we were doing three seconds ago when I posted it!!! I ignore it and got two inbox messages and one text message to my phone requesting more pictures.
So the next thing we did after the supermarket was have dinner. So I take a picture of our lasagna and post it. Immediately, a photo comment: "You are ALWAYS eating!!" Well... if always is the last five minutes, then yes. I ignored it this time and went to bed... I could hear the distinctive sound in my phone of FB comments, emails, text messages, etc. I ignored them.
I wake up the next day to find the following comments / messages / questions / recommendations in all sorts of communication tools (IM, Facebook wall, Facebook inbox, text message, email, etc):
First of all, I will not talk to her in English all the time. In fact, she is now exposed to more English than ever before in her life. Se watches TV in English, interacting with people who only speak English, reading all the signs around her in English... why should I become part of that too!?!? It would be super stupid, we both speak Spanish as our first language. We both speak French too, but we are not talking in French either, are we?? So no, mom, I'm sorry but I have to practice my Spanish.
Second, we are not doing anything "picture worthy." If they miss us too much, they can see the pictures they already have. Any other picture I take will look just like those pictures... perhaps even worse. Who would want to see a picture of us watching TV!?! TV in English, by the way.
Then there's the whole "educational vacation" thing. There is a reason why my beautiful teenage cousin prefers to spend her summer with me, in Cincinnati, and not with her aunts in the largest, busiest city in the World. SHE DOES NOT WANT TO BE EDUCATED DURING THE SUMMER. I never ever make my bed... how can I ask her to make hers!?!?! If she wants to sleep in a messy bed, that has not been made since 2003, that is solely her problem. Someone even said: "So that your house looks pretty." My house is always pretty, and almost nobody comes see it. If somebody comes, I am pretty sure they are not going to go upstairs and open the door to the guests bedroom and then complain about the bed not made.
Speaking of which, ask me which sports do any of my aunts play? Is slot machines a sport? No. These are the same people who educated me. All of them smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, never ever EVER having an outdoor activity. You can imagine how I turned out... and they know it. How do they expect me to suddenly change, become a PE teacher, and make my cousin practice sports for two weeks!?!?! HOW???? I cannot even answer the question about her "sleeping too much" or not. How much is too much?? When I am in Cincinnati by myself, like the poor thing is when I am working from 9 to 5, I sleep all the time. Every morning, when I wake up, I wish I slept more. Why would I take this pleasure away from her?? There is no such thing as "too much sleep", who are you kidding!?
I believe that if they did not ask for anything for a minor to leave the country, they could not care less about the minor coming back. The US definitely does not want little Mexicans staying on this side, so I am pretty sure they will have nothing to say either. I have seen many kids traveling. Kids with their brothers, sisters, moms, dads, grandparents, friends. Kids traveling alone. Kids traveling with other kids. I have never ever heard anything about a permit. I will call the airline anyways, or they will drive me crazy with questions for the next two weeks. Apparently if I say: "No, you don't need anything," that is not enough. If a high school dropout clerk from Continental Airlines that has only traveled to Arkansas once in her life says so, it is THE LAW.
Ahhh, I love them, but sometimes they are too opinionated about things they shouldn't. For example, the only bowling alley I know here is filled with cholo teenagers with brass knuckles. Thank you, but no. Also, I am 30. I will have as much candy as I want, and that is it. If I want to skip breakfast, lunch and dinner, and just eat candy all day, I will. That's how I roll.
Most people lose interest immediately, and that is probably why I have not had any visitors in the past 6 months. However, my 14yr old cousin thinks it's the best place in the world... eating, pool, and shopping??? Compared to the rest of her summer, spent mostly with my aunts and watching telenovelas with my grandma: paradise.
So I tell her to come, she convinces her dad to pay for the ticket, and she decides to spend the last two weeks of her summer here. Everyone back home is super nervous because she has not traveled a lot internationally. What if you need special permit to leave the country with a minor? What if she gets lost in the airport? What if her ears hurt in the plane (runs in the family)?!? I, knowing that she is neither stupid nor 5, tell all my aunts not to worry.
We are having the best time on our own. You don't need anything to leave the country with a minor (mmmhhh...), and she did not get lost in the airport. Her ears did hurt on the plane, but she took an aspirin, got over it and that was it. We went to my place and she liked it, I showed her around, we went to the supermarket and bought things we thought we would crave in the following days and that was our first night in Cinci... then the madness started.
First, I need to give you a brief background of my family. My mom has three sisters. Each one has only daughters (no sons) and even one of those daughters has a daughter of her own. My aunts and mom would kill me for revealing their age, but let's say they are between 45 and 65. Last year with me moving and all, they discovered instant messaging and Facebook, which they mainly use to spy on their daughters and nieces, and play Farmville like crazy.
Given that background, let me assure you the first thing I did as soon as we landed was call everyone: "Hey guys, we landed, we survived, we're going home now... and then to the supermarket, because we need food for the rest of the week. Call you later, love you, bye." And then it began... The first signs of madness appeared on FB. One of my aunts kept writing to me: "POST PICTURES OF EVERYTHING YOU ARE DOING!!" We were basically walking in the supermarket, hardly worth a FB picture, but I did it anyways because I know they miss my cousin. So I do it, and three seconds later she writes: "MORE PICTURES". Damn it, man. We are doing exactly what we were doing three seconds ago when I posted it!!! I ignore it and got two inbox messages and one text message to my phone requesting more pictures.
So the next thing we did after the supermarket was have dinner. So I take a picture of our lasagna and post it. Immediately, a photo comment: "You are ALWAYS eating!!" Well... if always is the last five minutes, then yes. I ignored it this time and went to bed... I could hear the distinctive sound in my phone of FB comments, emails, text messages, etc. I ignored them.
I wake up the next day to find the following comments / messages / questions / recommendations in all sorts of communication tools (IM, Facebook wall, Facebook inbox, text message, email, etc):
- Speak to her only in English so she can practice.
- Don't you have more pictures??
- Make her practice a sport.
- Is she making her bed in the mornings?
- Is she sleeping too much?
- Don't have too much candy.
- Go to the bowling alley
- Call the airline and find out if she needs any papers to re-enter Mexico.
- TAKE MORE PICTURES!!!!
- Why haven't you called me?!?!?
First of all, I will not talk to her in English all the time. In fact, she is now exposed to more English than ever before in her life. Se watches TV in English, interacting with people who only speak English, reading all the signs around her in English... why should I become part of that too!?!? It would be super stupid, we both speak Spanish as our first language. We both speak French too, but we are not talking in French either, are we?? So no, mom, I'm sorry but I have to practice my Spanish.
Second, we are not doing anything "picture worthy." If they miss us too much, they can see the pictures they already have. Any other picture I take will look just like those pictures... perhaps even worse. Who would want to see a picture of us watching TV!?! TV in English, by the way.
Then there's the whole "educational vacation" thing. There is a reason why my beautiful teenage cousin prefers to spend her summer with me, in Cincinnati, and not with her aunts in the largest, busiest city in the World. SHE DOES NOT WANT TO BE EDUCATED DURING THE SUMMER. I never ever make my bed... how can I ask her to make hers!?!?! If she wants to sleep in a messy bed, that has not been made since 2003, that is solely her problem. Someone even said: "So that your house looks pretty." My house is always pretty, and almost nobody comes see it. If somebody comes, I am pretty sure they are not going to go upstairs and open the door to the guests bedroom and then complain about the bed not made.
Speaking of which, ask me which sports do any of my aunts play? Is slot machines a sport? No. These are the same people who educated me. All of them smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, never ever EVER having an outdoor activity. You can imagine how I turned out... and they know it. How do they expect me to suddenly change, become a PE teacher, and make my cousin practice sports for two weeks!?!?! HOW???? I cannot even answer the question about her "sleeping too much" or not. How much is too much?? When I am in Cincinnati by myself, like the poor thing is when I am working from 9 to 5, I sleep all the time. Every morning, when I wake up, I wish I slept more. Why would I take this pleasure away from her?? There is no such thing as "too much sleep", who are you kidding!?
I believe that if they did not ask for anything for a minor to leave the country, they could not care less about the minor coming back. The US definitely does not want little Mexicans staying on this side, so I am pretty sure they will have nothing to say either. I have seen many kids traveling. Kids with their brothers, sisters, moms, dads, grandparents, friends. Kids traveling alone. Kids traveling with other kids. I have never ever heard anything about a permit. I will call the airline anyways, or they will drive me crazy with questions for the next two weeks. Apparently if I say: "No, you don't need anything," that is not enough. If a high school dropout clerk from Continental Airlines that has only traveled to Arkansas once in her life says so, it is THE LAW.
Ahhh, I love them, but sometimes they are too opinionated about things they shouldn't. For example, the only bowling alley I know here is filled with cholo teenagers with brass knuckles. Thank you, but no. Also, I am 30. I will have as much candy as I want, and that is it. If I want to skip breakfast, lunch and dinner, and just eat candy all day, I will. That's how I roll.
Jul 12, 2011
50 Day Song Challenge
I will do it in one day... and I will not attach links to the Youtube video.
Day 01 - A song from the first album you ever bought
Vuela, Vuela by Magneto. I know, I'm not proud
Day 02 – Your favourite single
Mr. Jones, by the Counting Crows; released in 1992 from the album August and Everything After.
Day 03 – Your favourite album track
My favorite album is Atchung Baby, by U2. My favorite track from that album is Who's Gonna Ride your Wild Horses.
Day 04 – A song by the first band/artist you saw live
The very first band I ever saw live was Roxette, and their song Joyride was my favorite song in the world!
Day 05 – A song from your childhood
Sé Cómo Duele, by Karina. My cousin and I used to listen to it all the time.
Day 06 – A song by your favourite band/artist
Wishlist, by Pearl Jam. Listen to it and love it.
Day 07 – A song that reminds you of a tv series
How Soon is Now, by Love Spit Love. Reminds me of Charmed, not the best series in the world, but awesome song and pretty cool cover (not easy to cover The Smiths).
Day 08 – Your most played song on itunes
Sí, by Enrique Bunbury... quite a surprise, but I do love that song. ¡Dímelo, dímelo una vez!
Day 09 – Favourite new release (has to be less than 2 months old)
Of course I never ever know songs less than 2 months old!!! From the new things I've been hearing, I like Britney's Hold It Against Me. I'm pretty sure it's a little older, though.
Day 10 – An awsome driving track
The Reeling by Passion Pit. No traffic of payday Friday in Mexico City could ever ruin that song.
Day 11 – A song that reminds you of your best mate
Nena, by Miguel Bosé and Paulina Rubio. Pa, pa, para, pa pa paaaaaa...
Day 12 – A song that makes you laugh
Me Amo, by El Cuarteto de Nos. It contains the lyric: "Me masturbo mirando mi foto."
Day 13 – The song that contains your favourite lyrics
Crash Into Me, by Dave Matthews Band; that song is a poem. You wear nothing but you wear it so well...
Day 14 – A song off an album that has brilliant cover art
My favorite album cover is Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Although all the songs in this album are beautiful, I always liked When I'm 64, even before I liked The Beatles, so that would be my pick.
Day 15 – Your favourite TV theme tune
Top Cat!! The indisputable leader of the gang!
Day 16 – A song that reminds you of a holiday
Uffff, the one and only "This is Halloween," from Nightmare Before Christmas. Marilyn Manson's version is superb.
Day 17 – A song that makes you think of a family member
I will have to cheat and pick two. The Day the Music Died, by Don McLean reminds me of my dad and when he used to drive us to school. Recuerda que me Tienes a Mí, by Gloria Trevi, reminds me of my mom.
Day 18 – A song you never get sick of hearing
Spaceman, by the Killers. I listen to it at least once a day. Makes me happy.
Day 19 – A guilty pleasure
My Heart Will Go On, by Celine Dion. I love it and I don't care!!!
Day 20 – A song you can’t help but sing along to
All You Need Is Love, Beatles.
Day 21 – A song that reminds you of your partner/closest friend
Nobody Else but You, by The Moldy Peaches.
Day 22 – A song you play when you want to relax
Chopin, Nocturne in E-flat major, op. 9 No. 2.
Day 23 – A song you play before a night out
Barbra Streisand, by Duck Sauce to guarantee awesome times.
Day 24 – A song from a band/artist you’ve just ‘discovered’
Shake Me Down by Cage the Elephant. They've been around for a while, but I just discovered them.
Day 25 – A song off of the last album you bought/ last track you downloaded
The last track I downloaded, believe it or not, was Hanky Panky by Tommy James. *AAAAAMONOS*
Day 01 - A song from the first album you ever bought
Vuela, Vuela by Magneto. I know, I'm not proud
Day 02 – Your favourite single
Mr. Jones, by the Counting Crows; released in 1992 from the album August and Everything After.
Day 03 – Your favourite album track
My favorite album is Atchung Baby, by U2. My favorite track from that album is Who's Gonna Ride your Wild Horses.
Day 04 – A song by the first band/artist you saw live
The very first band I ever saw live was Roxette, and their song Joyride was my favorite song in the world!
Day 05 – A song from your childhood
Sé Cómo Duele, by Karina. My cousin and I used to listen to it all the time.
Day 06 – A song by your favourite band/artist
Wishlist, by Pearl Jam. Listen to it and love it.
Day 07 – A song that reminds you of a tv series
How Soon is Now, by Love Spit Love. Reminds me of Charmed, not the best series in the world, but awesome song and pretty cool cover (not easy to cover The Smiths).
Day 08 – Your most played song on itunes
Sí, by Enrique Bunbury... quite a surprise, but I do love that song. ¡Dímelo, dímelo una vez!
Day 09 – Favourite new release (has to be less than 2 months old)
Of course I never ever know songs less than 2 months old!!! From the new things I've been hearing, I like Britney's Hold It Against Me. I'm pretty sure it's a little older, though.
Day 10 – An awsome driving track
The Reeling by Passion Pit. No traffic of payday Friday in Mexico City could ever ruin that song.
Day 11 – A song that reminds you of your best mate
Nena, by Miguel Bosé and Paulina Rubio. Pa, pa, para, pa pa paaaaaa...
Day 12 – A song that makes you laugh
Me Amo, by El Cuarteto de Nos. It contains the lyric: "Me masturbo mirando mi foto."
Day 13 – The song that contains your favourite lyrics
Crash Into Me, by Dave Matthews Band; that song is a poem. You wear nothing but you wear it so well...
Day 14 – A song off an album that has brilliant cover art
My favorite album cover is Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Although all the songs in this album are beautiful, I always liked When I'm 64, even before I liked The Beatles, so that would be my pick.
Day 15 – Your favourite TV theme tune
Top Cat!! The indisputable leader of the gang!
Day 16 – A song that reminds you of a holiday
Uffff, the one and only "This is Halloween," from Nightmare Before Christmas. Marilyn Manson's version is superb.
Day 17 – A song that makes you think of a family member
I will have to cheat and pick two. The Day the Music Died, by Don McLean reminds me of my dad and when he used to drive us to school. Recuerda que me Tienes a Mí, by Gloria Trevi, reminds me of my mom.
Day 18 – A song you never get sick of hearing
Spaceman, by the Killers. I listen to it at least once a day. Makes me happy.
Day 19 – A guilty pleasure
My Heart Will Go On, by Celine Dion. I love it and I don't care!!!
Day 20 – A song you can’t help but sing along to
All You Need Is Love, Beatles.
Day 21 – A song that reminds you of your partner/closest friend
Nobody Else but You, by The Moldy Peaches.
Day 22 – A song you play when you want to relax
Chopin, Nocturne in E-flat major, op. 9 No. 2.
Day 23 – A song you play before a night out
Barbra Streisand, by Duck Sauce to guarantee awesome times.
Day 24 – A song from a band/artist you’ve just ‘discovered’
Shake Me Down by Cage the Elephant. They've been around for a while, but I just discovered them.
Day 25 – A song off of the last album you bought/ last track you downloaded
The last track I downloaded, believe it or not, was Hanky Panky by Tommy James. *AAAAAMONOS*
Day 26 – A song no one would expect you to love
Amorcito Corazón, by Pedro Infante. Love it love it love it love it!
Day 27 – A song you would sing at a karaoke night
My karaoke hit, always: Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler, of course!
Day 28 – A song you love for it's lyrics
Killer Queen, by Queen. Written for me, the Killer Prin.
Day 29 – A song you love for it's video
I usually don't like videos, but Here it Goes Again, by OK Go, had a pretty cool one. Good song too.
Day 30 – A song you've only recently started listening to
She's a Rainbow, by the Rolling Stones... how did it take me so long???
Day 31 – A song from a band your best friend introduced to you
HAHAHAHAH... You would not believe it, but Fiesta Pagana, by El Mago de Oz. I still have mixed feelings.
Day 32 – A song you've performed infront of people
Sweet Child of Mine, by Guns'n'Roses
Day 33 – A song from any artist you've been to see live
Yesterday, by Paul McCartney. MAN, that was some show, let me tell you.
Day 34 – A song from an artist you wish you could see live
Bohemian Rhapsody, by Queen. MAMMA MIA MAMMA MIA MAMMA MIA LET ME GO!!!!!
Day 35 – A song you used to hate but now love
I Wanna Hold Your Hand, The Beatles... I know, silly me!
Day 36 – A song from an artist a family member has introduced you to
Wish You Were Here, by Incubus. Maybe not their best hit, but the only one I like from the favorite band of my baby sister.
Day 37 – Your favourite Beatles song
I've Just Seen a Face... and she keeps calling me back again.
Day 38 – Your favourite cover of a song
Crazy, Alanis Morrisette making a cover from Seal's hit. A-W-E-S-O-M-E
Amorcito Corazón, by Pedro Infante. Love it love it love it love it!
Day 27 – A song you would sing at a karaoke night
My karaoke hit, always: Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler, of course!
Day 28 – A song you love for it's lyrics
Killer Queen, by Queen. Written for me, the Killer Prin.
Day 29 – A song you love for it's video
I usually don't like videos, but Here it Goes Again, by OK Go, had a pretty cool one. Good song too.
Day 30 – A song you've only recently started listening to
She's a Rainbow, by the Rolling Stones... how did it take me so long???
Day 31 – A song from a band your best friend introduced to you
HAHAHAHAH... You would not believe it, but Fiesta Pagana, by El Mago de Oz. I still have mixed feelings.
Day 32 – A song you've performed infront of people
Sweet Child of Mine, by Guns'n'Roses
Day 33 – A song from any artist you've been to see live
Yesterday, by Paul McCartney. MAN, that was some show, let me tell you.
Day 34 – A song from an artist you wish you could see live
Bohemian Rhapsody, by Queen. MAMMA MIA MAMMA MIA MAMMA MIA LET ME GO!!!!!
Day 35 – A song you used to hate but now love
I Wanna Hold Your Hand, The Beatles... I know, silly me!
Day 36 – A song from an artist a family member has introduced you to
Wish You Were Here, by Incubus. Maybe not their best hit, but the only one I like from the favorite band of my baby sister.
Day 37 – Your favourite Beatles song
I've Just Seen a Face... and she keeps calling me back again.
Day 38 – Your favourite cover of a song
Crazy, Alanis Morrisette making a cover from Seal's hit. A-W-E-S-O-M-E
Day 39 – A song with a great video
This is most definetely a repetition... Free as a Bird, Beatles. Watch it very very carefully and find all the Beatle's song references in it. You will love it!
Day 40 – A song that brings back amazing memories
No Te Pido Flores, by Fanny Lu.... ¿y qué?
Day 41 – A song that brings back bad memories
Hey, Ya! by Outkast - Breaks my heart every time I listen to it, believe it or not.
Day 42 – Favourite song from the 80's
Beat It, by Michael Jackson. It was also the very first song in English to which I learned the lyrics.
Day 43 – Favourite song from the 90's
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
Day 44 – A song you play air guitar to
Man... I really don't do air guitars, I promise. If I absolutely had to, it would have to be Woman by Wolfmother.
Day 45 – Your favourite acoustic version of a song
Sam's Town, by the Killers, on their Live from the Royal Albert Hall album. Listen to it, and do it now!
Day 46 – The first song you ever bought
Listen to Your Heart, by Roxette. I could not afford the whole album, so I bought the single in a cassette that had this song on one side and (I Could Never) Give You Up on the other side.
Day 47 – The only song you like by a band you otherwise hate
Starlight, by Muse. Absolutely love the song, absolutely hate the band and everything else they do. Black holes and revelations.
Day 48 – Your favourite song at this time last year
Airplanes, by the Local Natives. I just remembered that song! Good song!!!!
Day 49 – Your favourite Love song
Fly me to the Moon, Frank Sinatra. In other words: I love you.
Day 50 – Your favourite song of all time
It has always been very difficult for me to choose my favorite song... depends on the state of mind. I would have answered "Black, by Pearl Jam" at some other time, but not at this point in my life. ERGO, I believe it is impossible to have a favorite song "of all time". Afraid of disappointing the readers, I will have to name my favorite song of right now, and so be it... ALL THESE THINGS THAT I'VE DONE by The Killers. I've got soul but I'm not a soldier.
This is most definetely a repetition... Free as a Bird, Beatles. Watch it very very carefully and find all the Beatle's song references in it. You will love it!
Day 40 – A song that brings back amazing memories
No Te Pido Flores, by Fanny Lu.... ¿y qué?
Day 41 – A song that brings back bad memories
Hey, Ya! by Outkast - Breaks my heart every time I listen to it, believe it or not.
Day 42 – Favourite song from the 80's
Beat It, by Michael Jackson. It was also the very first song in English to which I learned the lyrics.
Day 43 – Favourite song from the 90's
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
Day 44 – A song you play air guitar to
Man... I really don't do air guitars, I promise. If I absolutely had to, it would have to be Woman by Wolfmother.
Day 45 – Your favourite acoustic version of a song
Sam's Town, by the Killers, on their Live from the Royal Albert Hall album. Listen to it, and do it now!
Day 46 – The first song you ever bought
Listen to Your Heart, by Roxette. I could not afford the whole album, so I bought the single in a cassette that had this song on one side and (I Could Never) Give You Up on the other side.
Day 47 – The only song you like by a band you otherwise hate
Starlight, by Muse. Absolutely love the song, absolutely hate the band and everything else they do. Black holes and revelations.
Day 48 – Your favourite song at this time last year
Airplanes, by the Local Natives. I just remembered that song! Good song!!!!
Day 49 – Your favourite Love song
Fly me to the Moon, Frank Sinatra. In other words: I love you.
Day 50 – Your favourite song of all time
It has always been very difficult for me to choose my favorite song... depends on the state of mind. I would have answered "Black, by Pearl Jam" at some other time, but not at this point in my life. ERGO, I believe it is impossible to have a favorite song "of all time". Afraid of disappointing the readers, I will have to name my favorite song of right now, and so be it... ALL THESE THINGS THAT I'VE DONE by The Killers. I've got soul but I'm not a soldier.
Jul 11, 2011
Para A.R. (alias Ch.)
No sé qué decir en estos casos. ¿Qué palabras, en qué idiomas? Quiero decirte que te quiero, que eres parte de lo que soy. Quiero decirte que todos mis recuerdos que te incluyen son felices... como mi fiesta de 15 años en tu casa, ¿te acuerdas? Se oye como que fue hace mucho pero yo sí me acuerdo; ahí estabas cantándome en mi serenata. También eres parte de los recuerdos que no tengo... ahí estás en las fotos del día que nací. Quiero darte las gracias por todas las veces que me mandas un mensajito, siempre me hacen sonreír. Luego no te contesto porque no sé qué decir, porque estoy distraída en otras cosas, porque, ¿qué se yo? No imaginé nunca un mundo sin tus mensajitos. Ahora quiero contarte cómo he pasado la vida buscando tener un amigo como tú, y quiero presentarte a los de la contienda. Qué buen amigo eres, aunque no seas el mío.
Quiero más de ti, quiero saberlo todo. Cuéntamelo, anda; que nos tome 20 años, que aquí estoy para escuchar. Quiero hacer lo propio; ya sé que me quieres por ser hija de quien soy, pero me gustaría también que me quisieras por mis historias, quiero contártelas. ¿Sabes que he ido a más de 30 países en mi vida? ¿Quieres saber cuál es mi favorito? Quiero saber cuál es el tuyo. ¿Qué palabras puedo decir para motivarte a quedarte aquí y hacerme feliz?
Si no te digo nada es porque no quiero que mis deseos de anécdotas y tertulia suenen a despedida. Que no me despido y punto. Que no te vayas, te digo.
Si mis deseos de cuentos y maravillas no te convencen, permíteme apelar a tu lástima. ¿Sabes cuánto te quieren esos a los que yo quiero? ¿Qué te piensas que me los puedes dejar aquí, tristes por no tenerte? ¿Qué voy a hacer yo con todas esas lágrimas? Dime, ¿crees tú que alguien como yo puede con tanto? No hay manera. No tengo cómo.
Ya estoy haciendo lo mío. Ya rezo todas las noches hasta quedarme dormida por ti. Estoy hasta considerando leer El Secreto, para ver si sirve, nomás por no dejar. Haz lo tuyo, anda y quédate hasta que ya nos hayamos acordado de todo y ya me hayas contado todo lo que no sé.
No sé qué decir en estos casos... Qué complicadas pruebas.
Quiero más de ti, quiero saberlo todo. Cuéntamelo, anda; que nos tome 20 años, que aquí estoy para escuchar. Quiero hacer lo propio; ya sé que me quieres por ser hija de quien soy, pero me gustaría también que me quisieras por mis historias, quiero contártelas. ¿Sabes que he ido a más de 30 países en mi vida? ¿Quieres saber cuál es mi favorito? Quiero saber cuál es el tuyo. ¿Qué palabras puedo decir para motivarte a quedarte aquí y hacerme feliz?
Si no te digo nada es porque no quiero que mis deseos de anécdotas y tertulia suenen a despedida. Que no me despido y punto. Que no te vayas, te digo.
Si mis deseos de cuentos y maravillas no te convencen, permíteme apelar a tu lástima. ¿Sabes cuánto te quieren esos a los que yo quiero? ¿Qué te piensas que me los puedes dejar aquí, tristes por no tenerte? ¿Qué voy a hacer yo con todas esas lágrimas? Dime, ¿crees tú que alguien como yo puede con tanto? No hay manera. No tengo cómo.
Ya estoy haciendo lo mío. Ya rezo todas las noches hasta quedarme dormida por ti. Estoy hasta considerando leer El Secreto, para ver si sirve, nomás por no dejar. Haz lo tuyo, anda y quédate hasta que ya nos hayamos acordado de todo y ya me hayas contado todo lo que no sé.
No sé qué decir en estos casos... Qué complicadas pruebas.
Jun 23, 2011
How to Grind my Gears
Today I realized I am old. I became an old person somehow... or maybe I was just born old, who knows? Today, after fighting all day on the phone, I realized it.
What made me realize that is my ever growing lack of tolerance to new people. Every time I meet someone, I realize I don't like them. Most of the times it is because of the trades of their age, which I probably had at their age. To my defense, I was not a big fan then either and it also happens to me with people my own age or older. I do think I have always been old.
So, in order to lose ALL my followers, and the occasional blog tourist that might have ended up here, I will explain the things I don't like about people:
1) The need to challenge everything.
I know, right? We are all wrong. Everything is wrong. The rules are wrong. The unwritten rules are also wrong. I do believe in fighting for your ideas; and I am certain that there are a bunch of things that need to be challenged. However, I also believe that in order to challenge the status quo, a lot of research is required. It is important to understand all backgrounds, consider all implications, imagine all different outcomes, and then and only then, challenge. If people did this with everything they challenge, all their challenges would take 2 weeks. So, instead of choosing their battles, what people do is challenge everything without the required background. That means you have to explain everything 4 times. That wastes my time, I hate it.
2) They do not answer the question
Another thing that wastes everybody's time is when you ask a question and you get either another question ans an answer, or an answer to a different question. In my experience, this happens more, but is not exclusive to Latin Americans, who are somehow very afraid of saying no (I wonder if that explains the drug abuse and unwanted pregnancy rates in our countries). You ask somebody: "Do you have an apple?" and they will answer: "Green or Red?" That's failure one: answer with another question. I just wanted to know if you had apples, I don't care what kind. If I was interested on what kind of apples do you have, I would have asked. The other possible answer would be: "I had apples yesterday, but I ran out of them. I already ordered more, I should have apples next Tuesday." Failure number two: excessive information. Again, that is not what I asked, you are wasting my time again, a simple "No." would have sufficed.
3) The need to top you
So you go to your friend and say: "This thing happened to me, what do you think?" They will answer: "The same thing happened to me, but it was 10 times worse because on top of that, I was in the North Pole in a bikini!" First of all, that is again, not answering the question. Second of all, I am currently not interested in what you have to say. I started this conversation and I selfishly wanted to talk about me. There will be time for your experience, I promise! Third: why the need to top? If something similar happen to you, and you think you have good advice to give, fine, give it, just don't show off, man!
4) The need to convince you
This is probably the one that bothers me most. If you made it to here on this post, you can probably imagine I am not the most sociable nor patient person in the World. Well, imagine how I feel when I say: "I am afraid of butterflies" and people try to convince me that they are not harmful or lethal. I know they are not, I know you love them, I know you put them on girl's clothes. I hate them and that's that. I don't have to like them just because you do! The same thing happens with much more controversial topics, like the death penalty or abortion. Why would you want me to have the same point of view that you have??? I like hearing your arguments, that's what makes a conversation. In fact, if you did all your research and you have a strong point of view based on that research, I will enjoy it even more. However, at the end of our conversation, I do not have to feel the same way!!! I can have a totally opposed point of view, and that is OK because you need to trust I did my research too. Don't try to convince me because I am not in the Supreme Court. Send a letter to your congressman.
In a nutshell, that's why I'm old and have only like five friends.
What made me realize that is my ever growing lack of tolerance to new people. Every time I meet someone, I realize I don't like them. Most of the times it is because of the trades of their age, which I probably had at their age. To my defense, I was not a big fan then either and it also happens to me with people my own age or older. I do think I have always been old.
So, in order to lose ALL my followers, and the occasional blog tourist that might have ended up here, I will explain the things I don't like about people:
1) The need to challenge everything.
I know, right? We are all wrong. Everything is wrong. The rules are wrong. The unwritten rules are also wrong. I do believe in fighting for your ideas; and I am certain that there are a bunch of things that need to be challenged. However, I also believe that in order to challenge the status quo, a lot of research is required. It is important to understand all backgrounds, consider all implications, imagine all different outcomes, and then and only then, challenge. If people did this with everything they challenge, all their challenges would take 2 weeks. So, instead of choosing their battles, what people do is challenge everything without the required background. That means you have to explain everything 4 times. That wastes my time, I hate it.
2) They do not answer the question
Another thing that wastes everybody's time is when you ask a question and you get either another question ans an answer, or an answer to a different question. In my experience, this happens more, but is not exclusive to Latin Americans, who are somehow very afraid of saying no (I wonder if that explains the drug abuse and unwanted pregnancy rates in our countries). You ask somebody: "Do you have an apple?" and they will answer: "Green or Red?" That's failure one: answer with another question. I just wanted to know if you had apples, I don't care what kind. If I was interested on what kind of apples do you have, I would have asked. The other possible answer would be: "I had apples yesterday, but I ran out of them. I already ordered more, I should have apples next Tuesday." Failure number two: excessive information. Again, that is not what I asked, you are wasting my time again, a simple "No." would have sufficed.
3) The need to top you
So you go to your friend and say: "This thing happened to me, what do you think?" They will answer: "The same thing happened to me, but it was 10 times worse because on top of that, I was in the North Pole in a bikini!" First of all, that is again, not answering the question. Second of all, I am currently not interested in what you have to say. I started this conversation and I selfishly wanted to talk about me. There will be time for your experience, I promise! Third: why the need to top? If something similar happen to you, and you think you have good advice to give, fine, give it, just don't show off, man!
4) The need to convince you
This is probably the one that bothers me most. If you made it to here on this post, you can probably imagine I am not the most sociable nor patient person in the World. Well, imagine how I feel when I say: "I am afraid of butterflies" and people try to convince me that they are not harmful or lethal. I know they are not, I know you love them, I know you put them on girl's clothes. I hate them and that's that. I don't have to like them just because you do! The same thing happens with much more controversial topics, like the death penalty or abortion. Why would you want me to have the same point of view that you have??? I like hearing your arguments, that's what makes a conversation. In fact, if you did all your research and you have a strong point of view based on that research, I will enjoy it even more. However, at the end of our conversation, I do not have to feel the same way!!! I can have a totally opposed point of view, and that is OK because you need to trust I did my research too. Don't try to convince me because I am not in the Supreme Court. Send a letter to your congressman.
In a nutshell, that's why I'm old and have only like five friends.
May 5, 2011
Seven Days in Louisiana
It started with the Royal Wedding finally happening and everyone talking about the Princesses hats. I decided I would start wearing fancy hats more often, but not like those, because those were ugly.
Then I came to work and had not a great day because my project is not going that well. When I went to lunch I tried to pay for it and realized my Corporate Card was lost. I panicked. I was afraid somebody had used it to pay for crack and hookers and they would fire me. Also, I did not want to cancel it because I thought I would find it exactly 10 minutes after reporting it and that would be really silly. I tried to remember where did I use it last, and look for it. By now the crack and the hookers would have been paid already so there was no point in being hasty. I remembered, so I tried to call the restaurant I was in the night before. Couldn't because they wouldn't answer, so I drove there. It was not there. I went to the hotel, looked in every pocket of every clothes item there. It was still lost. I called them and they had it delivered in 8hrs.
I was in a foul mood. I had to drive in the very warm Alexandria spring for 3 hours, in a rental that smells like coconuts. I did not have lunch because I left it uneaten at the restaurant when I realized my card was missing. I had to have dinner by myself, because everyone else was gone to Cincinnati for the weekend. I hate eating alone but I had sushi and I love sushi, so in average, it was not such a bad dinner.
The next day I was supposed to drive to New Orleans, but I was kind of still in a bad mood and I woke up after noon, so a 4hr roadtrip seemed like a bad idea. I decided to skip it on Saturday, wake up early on Sunday and drive then. I went to the mall, spent and obscene amount of money on shoes, and then back to the hotel. I was kind of bored, kind of in a bad mood, even when shopping usually makes me fairly happy. Then I got into this stupid deja-vu mood, where everything that happened to me felt exactly like some of the things I felt some years ago, only I was in Louisiana instead of Brazil, and food is not as good here. I did not want everything to end the way things ended a few years ago, so I tried to fix it and instead I just made it worse, and more like a few years ago. I got really angry, I made other people angry... man, I just did not bring my A game with me that day.
I felt awful and went to sleep and then got some text messages from my oldest friend in the world. He is the oldest not because of his age, but because we have been friends since 6th grade, and let me tell you, none of my 6th grade friends are still my friends, only him and ID. His messages were just to tell me that he was still my friend and he loved me (as a friend). He never knew, but they made me feel a lot better in a moment when I was feeling really bad.
The next morning, as it usually happens when something upsets me, I was sick as a dog. I was supposed to drive to New Orleans, but I could not be away from a toilet for more than 20 minutes. The deja-vu feeling was slowly going away, but my stomach was rapidly feeling worse. I was in pain now, and it scared me a little because I was alone in Louisiana and I never know what the best course of action when in pain is other than eating soup. When the pain is actually in your digestive system, maybe eating is not the best thing to do... or maybe it is, it is only soup. I think I even had a fever as I got ready. I started driving and somehow I decided I was feeling a little better and I had buffalo wings instead of sopu for dinner!!!!!! I know, not one of my smartest moves, I know. You can imagine how my night went. The good thing is that they killed Osama, so at least there was something on TV while I lay there, awake, in between bathroom trips.
Then it was Monday again, and I came to work again, and my project is still not going very well. At least some folks I know are down in Louisiana and I don't have to eat alone anymore, so I start hanging out with them, and I am still a little in pain. The deja-vu feeling is way past me now.
A few days go by, and then I got the worst news about some things that I really really wanted to happen and they are not, because someone is being an asshole and there is nothing I can do about it. It was really frustrating for me, and for someone else. I try to talk to that person but I can't because that night they decided to go to the casino, it is 50 minutes away, and there is no phone signal. I feel so frustrated!!! Why should my life be decided by someone else, especially someone who is an asshole and has nothing to do with me!?!?!? AGGHHHH Impotence is the worst feeling in the world. The deja-vu feeling is long gone, but the deja-vu main character comes to my mind. Why is it super easy for everyone else to do this?? Triple frustration. I can feel my stomach twitching again. I lost 50 bucks in the roulette and made 35 on the slots. My mind is elsewhere...
It's been 7 days and it feels like 7 years. Thoughts of royal hats seem as belonging to someone else.
Then I came to work and had not a great day because my project is not going that well. When I went to lunch I tried to pay for it and realized my Corporate Card was lost. I panicked. I was afraid somebody had used it to pay for crack and hookers and they would fire me. Also, I did not want to cancel it because I thought I would find it exactly 10 minutes after reporting it and that would be really silly. I tried to remember where did I use it last, and look for it. By now the crack and the hookers would have been paid already so there was no point in being hasty. I remembered, so I tried to call the restaurant I was in the night before. Couldn't because they wouldn't answer, so I drove there. It was not there. I went to the hotel, looked in every pocket of every clothes item there. It was still lost. I called them and they had it delivered in 8hrs.
I was in a foul mood. I had to drive in the very warm Alexandria spring for 3 hours, in a rental that smells like coconuts. I did not have lunch because I left it uneaten at the restaurant when I realized my card was missing. I had to have dinner by myself, because everyone else was gone to Cincinnati for the weekend. I hate eating alone but I had sushi and I love sushi, so in average, it was not such a bad dinner.
The next day I was supposed to drive to New Orleans, but I was kind of still in a bad mood and I woke up after noon, so a 4hr roadtrip seemed like a bad idea. I decided to skip it on Saturday, wake up early on Sunday and drive then. I went to the mall, spent and obscene amount of money on shoes, and then back to the hotel. I was kind of bored, kind of in a bad mood, even when shopping usually makes me fairly happy. Then I got into this stupid deja-vu mood, where everything that happened to me felt exactly like some of the things I felt some years ago, only I was in Louisiana instead of Brazil, and food is not as good here. I did not want everything to end the way things ended a few years ago, so I tried to fix it and instead I just made it worse, and more like a few years ago. I got really angry, I made other people angry... man, I just did not bring my A game with me that day.
I felt awful and went to sleep and then got some text messages from my oldest friend in the world. He is the oldest not because of his age, but because we have been friends since 6th grade, and let me tell you, none of my 6th grade friends are still my friends, only him and ID. His messages were just to tell me that he was still my friend and he loved me (as a friend). He never knew, but they made me feel a lot better in a moment when I was feeling really bad.
The next morning, as it usually happens when something upsets me, I was sick as a dog. I was supposed to drive to New Orleans, but I could not be away from a toilet for more than 20 minutes. The deja-vu feeling was slowly going away, but my stomach was rapidly feeling worse. I was in pain now, and it scared me a little because I was alone in Louisiana and I never know what the best course of action when in pain is other than eating soup. When the pain is actually in your digestive system, maybe eating is not the best thing to do... or maybe it is, it is only soup. I think I even had a fever as I got ready. I started driving and somehow I decided I was feeling a little better and I had buffalo wings instead of sopu for dinner!!!!!! I know, not one of my smartest moves, I know. You can imagine how my night went. The good thing is that they killed Osama, so at least there was something on TV while I lay there, awake, in between bathroom trips.
Then it was Monday again, and I came to work again, and my project is still not going very well. At least some folks I know are down in Louisiana and I don't have to eat alone anymore, so I start hanging out with them, and I am still a little in pain. The deja-vu feeling is way past me now.
A few days go by, and then I got the worst news about some things that I really really wanted to happen and they are not, because someone is being an asshole and there is nothing I can do about it. It was really frustrating for me, and for someone else. I try to talk to that person but I can't because that night they decided to go to the casino, it is 50 minutes away, and there is no phone signal. I feel so frustrated!!! Why should my life be decided by someone else, especially someone who is an asshole and has nothing to do with me!?!?!? AGGHHHH Impotence is the worst feeling in the world. The deja-vu feeling is long gone, but the deja-vu main character comes to my mind. Why is it super easy for everyone else to do this?? Triple frustration. I can feel my stomach twitching again. I lost 50 bucks in the roulette and made 35 on the slots. My mind is elsewhere...
It's been 7 days and it feels like 7 years. Thoughts of royal hats seem as belonging to someone else.
Apr 27, 2011
El Fan del Barca... o del Peje, misma cosa.
Total que cuando ellos ganan, está bien. La Copa del Rey es LA COPA DEL REY. La ganaron los del Barca, entonces es lo máximo, torneo im-por-tan-tí-si-mo. Además son el equipo que más veces la ha ganado, entonces es una chingonería. La Copa del Rey es LA ONDA... hasta que la gana el Madrid. En ese momento a atascar sus Facebooks y Twitters, que hasta hace dos horas decían: "Ya lo verán, Merengues, esa Copa es del Barca! Visca Barca!! MESSI YUPIIIII" se convierten en: "Maldito árbitro injusto, eres de lo peor, por tu culpa perdimos, puchero! Pero ni nos importa porque la Copa del Rey a todo mundo le vale pollo, nosotros seremos los campeones de la Champions y de la Liga... Además tal vez ellos ganaron esta vez, pero el Barca ganó TODO el año pasado. TODO."
Luego pasa una semana y viene la semifinal de la Champions. Una vez más, los Merengues "vamos a ver." Este partido sí lo ganan. Entonces... "Me vale la Copa del Rey, quédensela!!!! Prefiero ser campeón de la Champions, YUJUUUU MESSIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!". Qué bueno que estén contentos, disfrútenlo. Es apenas la ida, no se olviden. También es sólo la semi-final. ¿Qué van a hacer cuando Messi se enfrente al Chicharito de sus amores?
Nada más si de milagro remonta el Madrid en mayo (así es, yo acepto que sería un milagro) o cuando gane el año que entra, no me vengan con que qué hueva la Champions o qué tramposos los Merengues. Tampoco quiero que me recuerden en 10 años que el Barca alguna vez ganó todo, ahí de favorcito. Acuérdense de sus twits todo-poderosos de hoy, antes de lloriquear que si el árbitro y que si la Champions no importa.
El fan del Peje es más o menos igual. Cuando las encuestas lo favorecen, entonces no se explican cómo es que no ganó las elecciones. Cuando las encuestas favorecen a sus enemigos es porque están manipuladas (el árbitro) o porque no son importantes (la Copa del Rey).
A todos ustedes, neo-fans from Hell de la bleu-grana, les recuerdo lo que pasa ahora con los fans del Peje. Están calladitos en sus alcantarillas. No dicen nada, no traen su "Ya Ganamos" en el parabrisas. Así estuvieron ustedes, "fans" del Barca, todos estos años. Así estarán cuando pase la fiebre. Ya se irá Messi y se les olvidará el Catalá...
Luego pasa una semana y viene la semifinal de la Champions. Una vez más, los Merengues "vamos a ver." Este partido sí lo ganan. Entonces... "Me vale la Copa del Rey, quédensela!!!! Prefiero ser campeón de la Champions, YUJUUUU MESSIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!". Qué bueno que estén contentos, disfrútenlo. Es apenas la ida, no se olviden. También es sólo la semi-final. ¿Qué van a hacer cuando Messi se enfrente al Chicharito de sus amores?
Nada más si de milagro remonta el Madrid en mayo (así es, yo acepto que sería un milagro) o cuando gane el año que entra, no me vengan con que qué hueva la Champions o qué tramposos los Merengues. Tampoco quiero que me recuerden en 10 años que el Barca alguna vez ganó todo, ahí de favorcito. Acuérdense de sus twits todo-poderosos de hoy, antes de lloriquear que si el árbitro y que si la Champions no importa.
El fan del Peje es más o menos igual. Cuando las encuestas lo favorecen, entonces no se explican cómo es que no ganó las elecciones. Cuando las encuestas favorecen a sus enemigos es porque están manipuladas (el árbitro) o porque no son importantes (la Copa del Rey).
A todos ustedes, neo-fans from Hell de la bleu-grana, les recuerdo lo que pasa ahora con los fans del Peje. Están calladitos en sus alcantarillas. No dicen nada, no traen su "Ya Ganamos" en el parabrisas. Así estuvieron ustedes, "fans" del Barca, todos estos años. Así estarán cuando pase la fiebre. Ya se irá Messi y se les olvidará el Catalá...
Apr 19, 2011
Note to Webmasters of the World
After being completely paranoid about the situation in my homeland, to the point of even writing in Spanish, I will try today a lighter yet still worrying topic in my head. What is up with the Internet lately!?!??!
I am talking about how everybody needs to know who you are, what is your email address, where do you live, and what is your age range (note to self: blog about age ranges later) to give you access to the stupidest things. They are also expecting you to create a username and password... I still remember the happy times when you wanted to download something, you clicked on it, and on your computer it was!! Ahhh, those were the days…
Now, every time I click on anything, the following monitor dialogue will happen:
Characters
The Internet (TI)
The Prin (TP)
Setting
TP stares at her browser. A fresh Google page stares back at her. The whole World Wide Web is at her feet. She can look for anything and find out about anything. She is eager to get information, she wants it, she craves to know… She types “Charlie Sheen.” A headliner shows “What did he say now? Find more here.”
TP – Oh! Good gossip.
She clicks on the link
TI – To find out what is Charlie Sheen saying, and much more about this, click here!!!
She clicks
TI – First you have to sign in. Please choose a Username and a Password
TP – Damn it, I hate this. OK… Username: theprin… Password: sheen
TI - Sorry! That username is already in use. Please choose another one.
TP – Are there any other Prins??? Crap. I will use my last name… Username: deunanue… Oh, I need to type the password again… Password: sheen.
TI – No. Sorry. Your username needs to be a valid email address.
TP – Well… I did not want these guys to have my email but fortunately I have an account just for this occasions…
She types it down. Password: sheen.
TI – Sorry, that password is invalid, it has to be at least 8 characters long, include one capital leter, and 3 numbers, not repeated nor consecutive.
TP – Ok, Ok… Password: Sheen135
TI – Awesome, now please choose a security question in case we have to identify you in the future. The options are:
1) What is your mother’s maiden name
2) What was your first pet’s name
3) What city did you grew up in?
At that point she is PO’d. How good is the gossip!?!? She does not want to be a member of this website… She chooses #1.
TP – Which of my mother’s maiden names?? We have two last names. She kept one, she lost one… the one she lost? Will I remember this?? I never had a pet… Well, I had a turtle called Micaela… Was she my first pet? I had a dog named Sebastian… what happened first, the turtle or the dog? I grew up in Mexico City… should I write Distrito Federal? Mexico City? Ciudad de México? DF? D.F.?? Aaaahhhh….
She finally manages to choose and answer a secret question.
TI – To make sure no automated servers are signing up for this page, please type what you see in the window below:
TP – Yeah, right, like the automated servers want to join this shit… What does it say there!?!? Lurking Apostrophes… is that an S or a 5?? Lurking Apostrophe5! That’s it. Typed it in!
TI – That is incorrect, please try a new one.
TP – GRRRRR!!!!! That’s what I think it said… what is this one!?!? Honey Primadonnas… this is getting old.
TI – Thank you! We have sent a confirmation message to your email. Please close this window and access via the link inside such message.
That email was never opened. I hate you. I hate Charlie Sheen thanks to you. Bye.
The end.
In any case, why would they need that much security in a frickin’ gossip page!?!?!? I don’t care if somebody else uses my name to log in and read celebrity gossip, come on!!!
Also, what happens to me a lot is that when I go back to those pages, I cannot remember my password or my username!!!!
So, here my advise to all webmasters in the World, who didn’t ask for it:
1) Let me have whatever password I want. If my identity is stolen, it is m frickin’ problem.
2) You don’t need my email, jerk. Really, you don’t. I don’t want to know about you, or whatever you are selling, or whoever you are supporting.
3) No automated servers want to join your lame page.
4) Flash and animations in general are soooooooooooooo 1998. If your page takes 54 seconds to download, it sucks.
Apr 16, 2011
Protesto.
Hace 5 años fui a protestar. Así es, tal cual, protestar. Salí a las calles vestida de blanco, junto con otro millón de ciudadanos a quejarme amargamente. No más inseguridad. No más violencia. No más, por favor. ¿Qué ha cambiado desde entonces?
Nos hemos convertido en un país en el que el ejército está tomando las calles para combatir al narco. Nos hemos convertido en un país todavía más violento, con Ciudad Juarez a la par de Bagdad. En la Ciudad de México no han entrado los verdes... pero los asaltos, los robos y los secuestros siguen a la orden del día. Entraron a mi casa, se robaron todo. ¿Alguna vez los atraparán, irán a la cárcel y mi padre recuperará sus relojes? Por supuesto que no. ¿Acaso se han acabado los negocios relacionados con drogas en el país? ¿Alguien ve la luz al final de este túnel que más bien parece una interminable espiral de sangre e impunidad? Si algo ha cambiado desde hace 5 años que protesté es que se ha puesto peor.
¿Qué esperan entonces los manifestantes? ¿Qué milagro? Tal vez cuando el presidente vea a esas masas en la calle diga: "Ah! ¡No sabía que esto molestaba a mis ciudadanos! ¡Acabaré con el crimen y con la inseguridad ahora mismo!" O mejor aún, dirá: "No puedo con esto. Renuncio y que venga alguien mejor." Viene por fin (introduzca aquí el nombre de su candidato/partido favorito) y ese sí puede. Mete a todos los malos a la cárcel, pone a todos los buenos a gobernar y se gasta los impuestos en salud y educación en vez de en su propia campaña política.
Ah... he perdido la fé. ¿Cómo la recuperamos?
Nos hemos convertido en un país en el que el ejército está tomando las calles para combatir al narco. Nos hemos convertido en un país todavía más violento, con Ciudad Juarez a la par de Bagdad. En la Ciudad de México no han entrado los verdes... pero los asaltos, los robos y los secuestros siguen a la orden del día. Entraron a mi casa, se robaron todo. ¿Alguna vez los atraparán, irán a la cárcel y mi padre recuperará sus relojes? Por supuesto que no. ¿Acaso se han acabado los negocios relacionados con drogas en el país? ¿Alguien ve la luz al final de este túnel que más bien parece una interminable espiral de sangre e impunidad? Si algo ha cambiado desde hace 5 años que protesté es que se ha puesto peor.
¿Qué esperan entonces los manifestantes? ¿Qué milagro? Tal vez cuando el presidente vea a esas masas en la calle diga: "Ah! ¡No sabía que esto molestaba a mis ciudadanos! ¡Acabaré con el crimen y con la inseguridad ahora mismo!" O mejor aún, dirá: "No puedo con esto. Renuncio y que venga alguien mejor." Viene por fin (introduzca aquí el nombre de su candidato/partido favorito) y ese sí puede. Mete a todos los malos a la cárcel, pone a todos los buenos a gobernar y se gasta los impuestos en salud y educación en vez de en su propia campaña política.
Ah... he perdido la fé. ¿Cómo la recuperamos?
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