When it Rains ...

Some people say "Count your blessings". They say it so much and so often, that it has been immortalized into posters, greeting cards and Power Point slideshows. It's a saccharine, idiotic, Christian-Precious-Moments saying. Or maybe I feel about it so because I immediately associate it with an idiotic Precious Moments poster that was taped on the principal's office wall in my Catholic school.

Now, "count your miseries" is something you don't hear much at all. It sounds like an emo thing to say, it may indeed brush along the lines of something Tim Burton would make an animated movie about ... but I think it might also help put things in perspective.



- A few weeks ago a friend finally broke up with his long-time girlfriend, after long months of toiling and pushing towards a fruitful relationship. It failed, and he's now cycling between depression and mania.

- A week ago, Eze's grandfather died. It was sort-of-unexpected: he apparently hit his head, and his cranium filled with blood. He died of associated respiratory complications (as he had signed a form asking NOT to be put in a respirator).

- Things at the office are NOT looking up:
-- Work-wise, it's chaos. Deadlines are being forced upon the staff, and the best word to describe the general reaction is "mutiny".
-- The boss's ex-wife (and mom to one of my close friends)was found to have a brain tumor. It's suspected to be malignant (a grade 2 glioma, to be exact). My friend relocated to Texas to take care of her mom and keep her company, which is totally understandable and fair and right... but it has created a palpable "hole" in this office.

- My grandfather died last night. Bone cancer. Spent the last year or so wanting to die. Last night he got his wish. Most of us are thankful, since it means the end of his plight, but we're all joined in this bitter grief. His relief is ours to a certain extent, but we will still miss him. Besides, what really breaks my heart is the fact that I never got to see him again after 1995, and my father didn't get to say "Goodbye".

- Yesterday I had a bilateral breast MRI done. The doctor found a tumor, something of a change since last time I was checked (2 years ago). I'm petrified by fear (I'm a high risk patient for breast cancer).

- Two of our closest friends are going through more or less the same fucked up romantic situation. Girl leads on. Guy falls hard. Girl turns out to be dating someone else. It's harsh, and having it happen in stereo is baffling.

- I went swimming: 50 meters. Nothing huge, just to check on my condition to see if I can use the Natatorium facilities. I pass, but barely: my lungs almost give out of the effort, and I realize that 8 years of smoking have taken a BIG toll. I quit smoking. I'm trying really hard to stay "quit", but all other aforementioned miseries are making it hard to stick to my guns.

One blessing though: The urge to cry is far stronger than the urge to smoke. Isn't life grand!

Confession is Good for the Soul

I confess I've been spending increasingly excessive (and unnecessary) amounts of time in certain forum I will not name. It's usually not a problem, until a week ago. Someone I personally know opened a thread about plus-sized model Chloe Marshall, who was up for the title of Miss England.

I didn't post anything in this blog about this particular topic because:
1) I didn't have the time
2) I didn't know what to say
3) I believe that a single size 16 model won't make a true change in the beauty and health industry
4) It's a beauty pageant, for gossakes! And given point #3, it's such a biased event, with such a narrow spectrum of what beauty is, that I find all of it incredibly boring.

However, the girl that posted the thread thrives on pageants, celebrity gossip and your general menagerie of "girly" topics (makeup, diets, clothes). I decided to dive in when some other girls started talking about Miss Marshall's health.

The only facts stated in press releases are Miss Marshall's height and weight. This is, in my opinion, not enough data to go on to make a solid statement about the girl's health. However, I found out last week that there are more fans of the BMI index than believers in "God". And it seems a bit funny to me, considering that the BMI index was originally created by a Belgian mathematician for statistical purposes. It was not meant to be the end-all/be-all of health, much less was it meant to be the founding stone for physicians and health-care professionals to diagnose their patients' health.

Most people I know, however, swear by this scale. They don't believe that someone size 16 could be a healthy person. Miss Marshall said in her interviews that she eats sensibly and exercises regularly. I, for one, believe her, because I've seen girls the same size, young girls, beautiful girls, girls that eat normal amounts of healthy food (vegetables, fruit ... not junk food) and exercise normally as well. They are not naturally thin, and I really hope that these girls will understand that being a healthy size 12, for them, will always be more beautiful than a forced and emaciated size 5.

So, back to the forum thread, I immediately started voicing the opposing point of view, always the dissonance in the crowd. Obviously, most girls started voicing their own opinions, most of them based on the BMI index philosophy, most of them awash with fashion-industry culture and thought. But there was one, sister to the girl that started the thread, that right away pointed spears at me as an individual. Not so much my opinions, but the reason for them. Her specific words, and I quote, were: "Girl, instead of a stick on your shoulder, you have a sequoia tree."

Of course, she kept on at it, and the barrage didn't stop when I clarified that this was more of a cause than a personal issue. She made sure to always state that my points of view were an exclusive product of my body and image issues.

Well ... I wish I had had this blog post that day. Later on that day a friend of mine read the thread and insisted that I did have to lower my weight, of course, for health issues.

And this is the thing: they're both right. My friend is completely right and I know where he is coming from: concern, worry, affection. I appreciate it, the same way I appreciated every single comment I received the last time I touched the subject. Most of you who read this blog mean well, and I thank you for your attention and friendship.

But the girl at the forum, my ex-roommate's sister to be more precise ... well, she may be right. That afternoon, after all was written and read, I had to sit down and come to terms with the fact that I have as much a body and image issue as I did when I was an anorexic 16-year-old. But I do not appreciate her intentions. The way she expressed herself about the things I said helped me realize that she was more bent on hurting me or making me feel bad about being fat (and she probably thinks I am in denial about it too) than she could have intended for her words to be enlightening or helpful.

Whatever her reasons for being such a bitch (which she was, no se puede tapar el cielo con la mano), I suspect it has less to do with difference of opinion and more to do with things that went down a year ago. And that, to me, seems petty, shallow and rude.

However, I gotta thank her. That afternoon I cried a bit, because coming to terms with issues that have been standing there for 14 years is not easy. What my friend said made me realize that I do have to do something. But what that bitch said gave me the strength to actually START doing it.

So, thank you, bitch, whether you read this or not. You did me MUCH LESS harm than you probably intended. :) Isn't it ironic?

The Beautiful Fat Girl - A Fallacy

Even the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty chickens out before putting an obese woman at front and center

"Real women have curves", or so some say. Specially in this Caribbean piece of land, where we are told from a very early age that our heritage includes equal parts of Taínos (the indigenous people who occupied this island before the Spanish invasion), Spanish and African. Of course, that is pretty much a lie, since most taínos were finished off before the second or third generation after the invasion came to life, but I digress.

We are a mixed breed: we have African blood, as well as heritage from the Middle East and from Europe. Obviously, the mix of breeds results in the passage of dominant genes...

A huge, round ass is apparently the most widespread, lasting gift to us as a race.

Whether you're out at the supermarket, the mall, a disco, a church ... everywhere you will observe that most females are equipped with a considerable butt. The size of the rest of the body will depend mostly on age, and then metabolic heritage. But most women I've seen nearing their thirties have already lost their washboard abs and thighs of steel. A slim and lithe build seems to be reserved for girls 23 and under.

You would think then that given the increasing difficulty with which we face keeping a given weight and shape, we would be more empathic towards each other. Maybe I'm being too naive to expect women to be more enlightened as time passes, to start seeing beauty in things other than a perfectly formed butt and ribs that hint themselves out of a sinewy torso.

Some of us will never have the experience of fitting in with what the populace considers beautiful: an "ugly" face is rarely so as a general rule (someone will eventually find the most hideous of mugs strangely endearing), but a fat girl will never be considered pleasant to look at. If a girl is born fat and grows up fat, she will most likely live through the experience of being put through numberless diets by her own family, never being quite accepted for who she is, always being an "opportunity for improvement".

Eventually, those born fat will either start ignoring these forms of aggression (the "well-intended" advice to diet, the slanted looks, the whispers, the loud scorn by classmates - children can and WILL be cruel!) ... or in the worst of cases they will let the criticism eat away at their self worth. I have yet to meet a fat person who is completely happy with who she or he is. "There is always room for improvement".

There are other cases in which a girl is born slim, or grows up to be slim, and eventually age will do its job and fill her form out to a plump and round issue of itself. I don't mean to be an absolute judge of which pain is worse, but I can tell you it's incredibly mortifying to
a) not be recognized by old friends because you went way beyond recognizable with 50 additional pounds weighing on your belly and hips
b) being recognized by old friends, and said friends presuming off-the-bat that you are pregnant
c) look at pictures of barely 2 years ago and realizing you're not only growing old, you're growing fat.

In short: changing from "that hot mama" to "that fat mama" in 2 or 3 years' time is frustrating, and it gives a more somber perspective to aging.

However, one good thing I've noticed about my friends (most of which are fat) is that they usually will find loveliness in a person due mostly to what the person is like, rather than what the person looks like. We hate ourselves, we hate our bodies, but we can usually see beauty when it stands in front of us, even if it's living under 200 pounds of fat.


You type in "sexy girl" in google.com, and what do you get? A girl that is barely thicker than the snake she is holding.

Not so with thinner girls. I've surmised that somewhere along the line, something goes on in a thin girl's brain that clicks, and then suddenly they're on a class their own, they belong to a clique, and whatever stands outside this circle is not worth even looking at.

I've heard the most hurtful, insulting comments about fat people coming from a thin person's lips. I guess it's the same "fear of the different" that plays into action in racism and xenophobia.

And incredibly enough, we the "fatties" will give credit to what they say. We will let these comments corrode at our own confidence. I don't know why, I haven't yet figured it out, much less found out a solution to protect ourselves from it. But apparently, the bigger we are, the more vulnerable we become to comments coming from razor-thin assholes.

Saddest part is, these razor-thin assholes, given the way the corporate mechanism works, are the ones in charge, the ones making the decisions on marketing, advertising, purchasing, etc. These are the ones that will push for the airbrushed look on magazine covers, these are the ones that will create demand for thinner models and actresses, these are the ones creating a homogenized world of creatures more resembling the aliens from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, rather than a homo sapiens.

The tragedy of all of this? That the new generations are eating it up. Girls will want to emulate the next Kate Moss, and will begin checking themselves out in the mirror, making sure that the hip bone sticks out enough to be sexy. Boys will be fed pictures of airbrushed females, creating expectations that no regular girl will be able to fulfill (and let's not even talk about how males have been put under scrutiny lately, as well. That is a whole other chapter!). All around, a more strict guideline for beauty is being set up. And wherever we look and read, it's being perpetrated by males and females alike.

Long gone is the perception that men would prefer a "healthier" female over the stick-thin models showing up in street signs and corners in the 90s. I've been reading and hearing men, regular men, ogling at these stick-thin figures, more frequently as time passes. Suddenly, sexual desire is sparked by showing bones and slender thighs, not by the abundance of skin or shapely hips.


No matter that she's gorgeous, she will never be considered beautiful again until she loses those extra pounds...

We've been assimilated into the society of thin. A fat girl with a beautiful face will NEVER be "a beautiful girl". She will be "a beautiful fat girl", 'cuz you have to make it clear: she's beautiful but she's fat. Hence, she's not as beautiful as she could be (don't believe me? Even gorgeous girls will be put down in public if they're not picture perfect!).

So ... a girl both beautiful AND fat? Impossible. Not true in the eyes of society.



Writer's Note: This has been a rant brought to you by Diana Campo. You are welcome to express your opinions on the comment section, but be warned: I do not intend to give off the impression that I am in possession of the absolute truth about how things work and how people feel. This is just MY take on things, and I am very aware that my take on things will differ from a lot of other people's. Variety in opinion is most welcome. I look forward to your reactions! ;-)

In Absentia

Eze's been away for 4 days now. It's not much, but it feels like eternity. You know it feels like eternity when you start getting used to being by your own in the evenings and mornings. But you're not so used that you forget that there is someone who usually comforts you when you wake up in the middle of a stormy night, ridden with nightmares about shape-shifting trees that murder people. It's the void in the pillow next to you that hurts the most... but you've gone numb.

Nonetheless, I've kept myself mostly busy:

On Saturday I went shopping with my mother: one of the most productive shopping sessions I've had in my life (and I hate shopping). In the evening, I tended to the usual in Frecuencias Alternas.

On Sunday I received a visit by Alysha and Tattiana. We cooked ground meat for taquitos and I made a batch of polvorones. In the meanwhile we watched Andres López's Pelota de Letras (a Colombian comedian and his 3-hours-long stand-up routine, very funny, but exhausting!).

Monday and Tuesday have obviously been work-days, but I've managed to spend the evenings in something other than moping. I've already finished watching season 3 of Doctor Who (which was not as tragic as the ending of season 2, but just as enjoyable). I've also come across a few interesting contacts, namely Rasputina's manager (I contacted him regarding a rumored recital to be held here in Puerto Rico in November, and as he confirmed so kindly, I took the liberty of asking about the possibility of interviewing them over the phone for Frecuencias Alternas - he hasn't answered yet, but the exchange was interesting enough for me).


I also found out about a private animal shelter (No-Kill) in Humacao: El Faro de los Animales. They're a non-profit organization (with no funding by the government) that's dedicated to the care of homeless animals and the search of loving homes for them. They have a series of different programs to allow the public to participate and help as much as they can with this mission. I'm seriously considering spending at least 2 days a month in this place and help out with my time (every other saturday or some similar arrangement).

Oh ... yeah, and the reason for this last discovery: I'm looking for puppy. :-) I finally feel ready to adopt a little bundle of canine love. Let's see how soon it turns out to be.

Our Visit to San Diego - The Town

That's better!, originally uploaded by dhevi_anais.

We got to San Diego on Tuesday (July 24th) at midnight. Ravenous, thanks to the overprice of airport food and the hairline slit of a time frame between connecting flights, we were oh-so-thankful when we realized, already in the room, that there was at least one pizzeria available for delivery until 3am. Nothing could have prepared us for the kind of yuckiness such pizza would possess: it was progressively bad as you ate it, until at the end you were only minutes away from disemboweling your disgust at the porcelain throne. Hahahah! Thankfully, the rest of the trip fared much better, food-wise.

The free breakfast was way better, as Pepe can attest! Thank you, Pepe! The offer was "Free Continental Breakfast", and I was expecting a deluge of fruit and seeds, like a huge trail mix on a plate. I was pleased to find that they also included cereal, pastries, muffins and a small toaster oven.


The first day, we went immediately to find our feet: bought a 4-Day Tripper and saw a bit of downtown San Diego, before heading for the Zoo (I will talk at length about the Zoo on a later post). After the Zoo, we headed immediately to the convention center for Comic-Con Preview Night (I will also talk at length about the Comic-Con on a later later post). At the end of all that flurry of activity, we were tired and incredibly hungry again (the San Diego Zoo doesn't offer a great variety of fair-priced, healthy, hearty meals ... just nachos, fajitas and churros, and all of it is junk-food quality and overpriced. The convention center didn't have any food stands open either, I think. So after some bickering and dawdling, we finally plopped our sorry and tired asses on a sports bar/restaurant named the Lobster Baja Burrito mutherfucker ... No, that's not the actual name, but it was equally long and I didn't keep a memento to remind me. The food was yummy, fairly priced, and abundant. I was a happy camper, and I think my travel buddies were happy as well. We went to sleep full and contented.

After that, the rest of the trip was mainly about the Comic-Con. For the next couple of days, we woke up at about 7am had our Free Continental Breakfast, and headed for the convention center. On Thursday, we decided to visit the Horton Plaza, a sort of mall in a totally different style from the ones I've seen so far in my life and travels: it has steps and levels all over, pretty but confusing! Pepe says he visited one just like that in L.A. I wonder if that's the ways malls are all over California...

We found another gastronomic haven at the Horton Plaza that night: the something-something Café (sorry, my memory is hideously bad when the rest of the body is taking over all the energy), which is sort of like a deli-style market with a small grill outside. We ate ... a LOT. I'll have to say: when they advertise grain bread, they DO mean grain. It was unnerving to feel thick, chewy seeds inside my sandwich. The grilled chicken alfredo pasta (cold!) was awesome, and I finally had my first Cherry Coke ever! I bought a Cherries n' Cream soda and a canned cold "frappuccino" drink from Cinnabon for the road (they were good too!). I also tried their berry parfait: not so good.

On Friday night we took the wrong bus, ended up pretty far from the hotel, had to take a taxi all the way back. It was a creepy experience, mostly because (in the bus) I sat in front of a guy that at first sight looked all normal and primped. After a while I noticed he was laughing to himself for no apparent reason (no Bluetooth hands-free cell phone system nor headphones were on sight) and he was also sucking his thumb (a full grown man!) and fondling his own chest. Ew!!! and Weird!!! After that, I couldn't fully gather my nerves again that night.

Saturday was the oddest day: we woke up at 3:50 to head out as early as possible to the convention center (that day the Battlestar Galactica and Heroes panels were to be held). We had the bestest of days there, topped off by a nice and cheap meal at the resident (fish) taco place: Rubio's Mexican Grill. It was more than fairly priced, the fish taco was decent (at least) and the rest of the food was quite yummy. We visited once more before heading back home, just so you know. We even wished we had the money to bring the franchise to Puerto Rico, it would dethrone Taco Maker and Taco Bell in the bat of an eyelash.

Sunday and Monday were sort of wind-down days: Eze and I didn't leave bed until past 9 am. Both days we totally missed breakfast hour, but bless Mari and Pepe! they brought us some breakfast to the room (talk about friendly room service!) On Sunday we ventured far into Gaslamp street and ambled into a small, posh restaurant (don't remember the name either). The prices were a bit hefty, so I ordered a prosciutto pizza (nice! topped with red onions and goat cheese, although it irked me that they put the prosciutto in the pizza before cooking it, so the ham was sort of over-salty and chewy ... a total pet peeve of mine).

On Monday, to while a bit of time away before leaving for the airport, Mari and I walked a block from the hotel to a local Salvation Army thrift shop. I left with 5 "new" shirts (of which 4 turned out to be pretty decent buys for $3.50 apiece) and a few other trinkets. We arrived at the airport at 3 pm to wait for our flight, which left at 10 pm. Pretty long wait but the San Diego airport is pretty comfy and it offers a few decent-priced options for food.

I was sad to leave, I always am. Leaving is my least favorite part of a trip. Both flights (going and coming back) were horrendous. The Economy-Class seats at Delta and US Airways are terribly uncomfortable and narrow, and damn the day they decided to start scrimping on food! Snacks and drinks at airplanes now are a joke! Even the peanuts are bad. Plus we had a small incident with one of the flight attendants from Delta. I wouldn't bother saving a few bucks to fly with them again. It's not worth it.

So, my take on San Diego?

A nice place to visit, it's incredibly near to Mexico (one of the trolley lines, the Blue Line, goes all the way to Tijuana ... haaa! How I would have loved to make that trip!), and it shows mainly on the food. The climate is bizarre: the sun heats you up and makes you sweat, but the breeze is chilly. I'm surprised I didn't get sick. People there are terminally nice and customer service is incredibly great at large!


The views and the scenery are what you would expect of a city lining a docking bay: boats and seagulls abound, and sunsets are quite tranquil and pretty. Nothing much that is missing in this island, though. Only detail is that the city is cleaner and more orderly (and, of course, this being California, you have way much more chances of running into the beautiful and famous - not an exceptionally great plus to me). It's expensive, and the people there seem to be living life much more preoccupied with how they look than with what they think. Maybe I'm mistaken, though.

I noticed two distinct social classes: the upscale rich kids, visiting Old Town for an afternoon of shopping, and the Mexicans, either obviously service workers and maids, or kids out into the other part of town that's somewhat less refined, less touristic - the part of town I would have liked to get to know better.


BTW: Trains got to me. Line cars were pretty and quaint - I had never seen one in real life. But trains are something else. I had seen the Metro at NYC, which is wonderfully engrossing and I will forever be in love with it. But the train in San Diego was the first actual freight train I've seen in my life. I couldn't have fathomed the length of these vehicles, and no one could have conveyed to me the attention their prescence commands ... at least the attention they command from me. I'm in love with trains. That much I can say.

I'm helplessly in love with New York City, this much I could surmise by visiting yet another place that does not fulfill and does not command the heart the same way New York has.

But fun was had, the company was insurmountably great... would do it again in a heartbeat. But let me rest for a year before ... the flight over there is too long and restless.

Also: I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows during my trip: FUCK Mrs. Rowlings! I feel cheated ...

Teaser for Memoirs on San Diego Comic Con 2007

I'm back on track, back at work, back to same ol' same ol'... after a week of travel, of discovering what it's like on the west side.

We attended the Comic Con on a year in which attendance was estimated to be a little over 123,000 individuals. It felt like it alright. Crowds were mind-bogglingly large, lines were overlong, and after 5 days of experiencing the warmth of a small town squeezed into an auditorium, I definitely needed to decompress.

I finally got to see a live panda and more than a few koalas curled up in their sleep. I learned a few things about a certain Australian bird and hugged a metal bear. I met a man that changed my life as a child, and without meaning to, I made his day. I saw an absurd amount of movie trailers and previews, some of which turned my eyes into starry orbs with wonderment, but of which I only remember the names of very few.

We (Eze, Pepe, Mari and I) shared our funds for food and other supplies, shared cheap sandwiches and bad pizza, shared a lot of time together, had good times, had arguments, but all in all we had a blast.

Later on, I will be posting pictures and a full recount (up to what my memory will allow) very soon.

San Diego Comic Con 2007 Update #1

Well, it's official: we've been here for two days now, and the whole Comic Con experience has been fun, extenuating and mind-boggling.

We took our late-afternoon flight on Tuesday 24th by Delta Airlines. I have to say the seats are freakishly small. I know I'm overweight, but I'm also small-sized, which makes me an average-sized individual, and I was feeling a bit too smug in their seats. Eze was definitely tight, and Pepe and Maricarmen had more than one trouble and pain over this detail, specially considering it was two 4-hour flights (both with delays, mind you).

At our arrival (at nearly midnight) we were ravenous. Delta Airlines didn't serve in-flight meals in any of our flights, so we had to tide our hunger over with the meager snacks they provided (plus the hideously bad coffee) and whatever snack we could chance across in between flights (which wasn't anything considerable because the time between connecting flights was pretty limited). We ordered for pizza delivery from the Days Inn hotel we are staying in, and while it seemed an awesome idea at the moment (everything tasted like a piece of mana), it proved to be not such a sound decision the next day (indigestion and heartburn ensued).

The stay at the Days Inn includes continental breakfast, but we found it to be less composed of fruit (which is the typical meal for which the term 'continental breakfast' has been coined) and more composed of assorted pastries.

Yesterday (Wednesday 25th) we visited the San Diego Zoo, to later on pre-register for the Comic Con and attend Preview Night (which was like opening a fun park to a huge herd of wild children). We've been juicing the most out of this visit and tomorrow and Saturday will be no exception. So bear with me and my lack of blogging. As we speak, a small pain has been creeping up onto my shoulder and I really need some sleep. So I'll have to leave it here, more as soon as I return to my blogging ways.

Thanks for reading!

Peace out!

The 1-Day Week

Well, it's almost Day Zero (in which my closest friends and I lift off to the Pacific zone), and I just had a pretty interesting weekend.

Eze and Pepe twisted the planned schedule for Saturday upside down, and we ended up handing in a pre-recorded program of Frecuencias Alternas in exchange for the freedom to spend the rest of the evening at Rebeca's and Tatiana's birthday. It was one of those huge, folkloric affairs, with two birthday cakes (more than enough to pass around twice and then serve in doggy bags for family and friends), confetti strewn all over the floor and a random mix of merengue, reggaetón and (gulp!) Gunther. We (Eze, Pepe, Maricarmen and I) spent most of the time sitting on a huge metal box perilously perched on the parking curb (and identified by graffiti as the "Skate Box"). We talked a lot, planned some more details of our upcoming trip, and had the kind of easy-going fun you only get to have with tried-and-true friends. We're the Clerks (see: Kevin Smith) generation, and we love it!

Sunday kicked off with rain and thunder, but we carried on with our plan anyway: to spend the afternoon with my Mom and brother. We picked them up and went to lunch at El Hipopótamo (a small, old Spanish-style restaurant, or tasca, as we like to call it 'cuz then we feel a bit more cosmopolitan when we go there). After a nice, thorough lunch (serrano ham was to be had, as well as milhojas, and that makes me very happy), we went to JC Penney in Plaza Carolina (so as to avoid Plaza las Américas, which gets hellishly crowded on weekends). I had spotted a few covetable items in the JC Penney shopper, and for the first time in a long while, I acted on the whim. Most of said covetable items were not so pretty up close, or were not available, but I got away from it all with a new pair of (gasp!) Mary Janes. How odd of me ¬_¬ ...


Later on we had dinner with Pepe at Dennys, and after another brief visit to Mom's (to help move a futon outside, where it will probably be carried off by someone desperate and very strong), we capped off the evening by watching Bridge to Terabithia. It was much better than I thought it would be and affected me more than I predicted. It's fully recommendable, but be prepared for the unexpected.

Oh! Eze also bought Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for me, and I just started reading it. NO FUCKING SPOILERS, you read me!?

So, it's nearly 5PM, a bit over an hour to go before quitting time, and tomorrow we depart at 4:52PM. In 24 hours I'll most likely be strapped to a plane seat, looking out of the nearest window and bracing myself for the emotional orgasm liftoff always brings. I'll keep posting as much as our daily activities let me, and I'll definitely take as many pictures as I can.

I'm giddy! I can hardly wait!

Perception of a Weekend: Before (Micro)

First things first - I did my own nails about one or two weeks ago, and the looked fantastic... for two days, that is, until the ol' nail polish chipped off. And that will happen, why not, I mean: i did only one coat, no top coat, no base coat. Can't be bothered with those details, but I realized having a fast-drying nail enamel helps making the process less painful (yes, beautifying myself is always painful).

I found this in my humble nail product box (which is really just an old, wobbly shoe box) in a nice, shimmery, cream-colored shade. Can't remember the name, but it was incredibly quick to dry (plus points) and it turned out to look gorgeous on my short-short nails (double plus points) But then mom showed me a Bettina shade that proved to be an inspiration (#168, I think ... did you know that the company that makes the Bettina nail polish we Puerto Rican girls buy for $1.99 a bottle in our local drugstores and supermarkets, has no presence in the internet!?!?!)

So, that would be my intentions today: buy Maybelline Express Nail Color in a shade called Racing Rubies (see pic above) and get some nice, dark red scratchers, very fast!

Tonight we have a small business get-together with one of the bands we sort-of manage (and by "we", I mean CarbonoMúsica), which means I will have to prove myself once again as ... The HouseWife!

That would mean (mainly) sweeping and mopping the house a bit (white tile is a bitch!), and cookin up some canapés...


HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

I meant: grab a crate of beer and some chips and dip on the way home. ;-)

Tomorrow is supposed to be the second 1991 Sacred Heart School class pre-reunion, which would be sort of like a staff meeting to plan and talk about what needs to be done for the official reunion. I might go. I might not go. I still don't know, it all depends: Eze gets in to work (@ Border's) at 8PM. Frecuencias Alternas remains under Pepe's control, I might as well help him out.

And Sunday is still a blank, with a small hint of what could be done. BBQ, anyone?



... or maybe some cookies?

What's Happening in my Kitchen

Yesterday it was iced cupcakes & brownies. Had a lot of fun cooking it up with Tattiana and Chichi. Made a mess out of the whole house, mainly because we also received a visit from Pepe and his girl, but more importantly because the kitchen is so small, its activities bleed into the rest of the house.

The cupcakes ended up looking like a green, white, aqua and purple mess of icing, but I was told they were delish. The brownies ... well ... they came out REALLY fudgy. :-D I'm hoping to try that again... with a more solid (i.e. darker) chocolate.

Today's menu:
potatoes au gratin
churrasco (complete with chimichurri
fried amarillitos

Tomorrow?
More fried amarillitos, 'cuz GAWD! mom gave me one too many plantains :-\

Little Notes #4: Nothing's Gonna Change My World

... not even rain washing away my shoes.

This weekend was solidly interesting through & through.

On Friday evening we went to Plaza del Sol to get a broadband modem for the wireless internet service by Centennial. After the fiasco courtesy of Puerto Rico Telephone, anything looked better and more reliable than that. We got a visit by Pepe and Rebecca later that night, and one of our first internet hits was the following video:



Across the Universe by Fiona Apple (written by John Lennon)

The video is an instant classic, excellently made, and the song is wonderfully haunting (and by "haunting" I mean "the kind of song that sticks into your head and won't let you go"). I always disliked Fiona Apple a little bit, it was a visceral reaction, I guess. This video changed my mind: I might welcome her soon into my iPod.


I dedicated Saturday to sleeping, tidying up the house a bit more, watching a movie (developing a crush on a gringo in the process - that's SO unlike me!). The day basically was about me waiting to go to a Balún show in Taller Cé at night. It was worth the wait, although the incredibly annoying overabundance of bums and hobos wasn't. It's like Taller Cé is the only place left around for them to go beg to.

However, one thing was timelessly relevant about the evening:

Pitagora Suicchi!


... march with the ninjas! march, march!!!


Sunday was a Sunday like I hadn't had in a long while. I cooked a nice, comforting breakfast (scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, and toast, & coffee and orange juice) and then we went to Plaza del Sol to return the Centennial broadband router (a flopping failure, although without the bitter taste of rejection as was with PRT). We decided to go shop then for a fan and some other stuff for the apartment, and apparently in the meanwhile all heaven broke loose and cried a river onto Bayamón. I had to sprint across half a parking lot to get to my car, almost lost my slippers in the process, and had to do half that sprint barefoot. My feet still hurt.

I drove Eze to Borders (he had a 2-to-11PM shift) and I stayed a while keeping him company until his shift started. Found some nice flats @ Journeys (Volatile Demi Polka Dot, in red ... not shown above ¬_¬ no pics of my red shoes to be found anywhere on the net). They were on sale and they felt so warm and toasty!!! ^_^

And as soon as I felt the warmth enveloping my feet, somewhere in my mind a tiny Fiona A. sang:

Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world

Meme (#001) - Ocho cosas

Bueno, esto me parece que ya lo había hecho antes (o cosas similares). Pero nunca está de más auto-evaluarse periódicamente. (Sí, porque para eso son estas cosas)

1. Cada jugador(a) comienza con un listado de 8 cosas sobre sí mismo.
2. Tienen que escribir en su blog esas ocho cosas, junto con las reglas del juego.
3. Tienen que seleccionar a 8 personas más para invitar a jugar y anotar sus blogs/nombres.
4. No olvides dejarles un comentario en sus blogs respectivos de que han sido invitadas a participar.


8 Cosas Sobre Mí Misma (o algo...)

1) Prefiero pasar frío que pasar calor. El frío se resuelve añadiendo ropa. El calor no hay modo de quitarlo sin desvestirse y meterse en una ducha fría.

2) Aprendí a nadar a los 20 años de edad en la universidad. Desde chiquita le había tenido terror al agua. Pasé muchas vergüenzas por eso mismo, especialmente en escuela superior y luego en la universidad. Creo que lo que me puso a considerar cambiar ese detalle fue un paseo con unos amigos de la universidad: fuimos al Yunque, a una charca que hay allí, y mientras todos estaban tripeando en el centro de la charca, yo estaba parada en una esquinita mirándolos de lejos.

3) Hay comidas que me han comenzado a gustar "después de vieja" (y que no pasaba de chiquita): el queso roquefort (o blue cheese), las setas y los pimientos rojos. Estos últimos me empezaron a gustar hace apenas 2 años. De aquí a 20 años más, probablemente mi dieta haya cambiado considerablemente.

4) Me da pereza usar lipstick, pero tengo una obsesión enfermiza con los lip gloss y los plumpers, al punto de que aun no consigo el "lip gloss perfecto".

5) Mi primer beso fue con uno de los hombres más encantadores que he conocido en mi vida, antes de que fuera un hombre hecho y derecho siquiera. Fue detrás de la cancha del colegio, temprano en la mañana, y me dejó las rodillas temblando. Lo besé nuevamente unos 13 ó 14 años más tarde y me causó lo mismo. El único beso que me ha dejado exactamente igual fue mi primer beso con mi pareja actual (y no, no lo estoy diciendo porque él lee esto).

6) Las películas de fantasía épica bien hechas, como la serie de Lord of the Rings o The Chronicles of Narnia, me hacen llorar de la emoción. También me ponen a llorar los documentales de animales y los muñequitos.






7) Mi primer sorbo de whiskey fue a los 3 ó 4 años de edad. Más o menos a esa misma edad mi papá comenzó a darme los desayunos con un vaso grande de café instantáneo con leche fría y mucha azúcar. Afortunadamente yo era una niña tranquila, porque si no, con ese combo hubiese sido inmanejable.





8) Me gusta el sabor de la sangre. Lo sé, suena gótico, suena a basura escrita por un niño emo falto de atención. Pero me gusta, especialmente cdo me corto el labio por falta de humectación, como ahora mismo. Si no me cuido bien, soy capaz de dejarme el labio en carne viva por la manía que tengo con pelarme los labios.

Bueno, ahora les toca a ustedes!

Ezequiel
Mika
Julio
Pepe
Kiwi
Chichi
Tattiana
Ricky (ahi está tu excusa para escribir algo)

Taking off on July (explained)

Like I hinted at in my June 5 post, I will be taking off in July. To be more exact, on July 24, with return date: July 30.

Where am I going?

San Diego ComicCon, here I come!!!
Yes, my friends: joined by Ezequiel, Pepe and Maricarmen, we will take San Diego, CA by storm. We will see tha Pacific Ocean and pee on it. We will dishonorably not give up our seats to old women in the trolley. We will go to that convention and sell our collective asses to Kevin Smith in exchange for a single autograph. We will beat a path of drool for the Battlestar Galactica cast. We will look incredibly dumb shouting "YATAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" in unison to greet Masi Oka. Hopefully we will come back in one piece. Hopefully, the temperature in San Diego will not go upwards of 80 Farenheit (we like acting stupid in comfortable weather).

So there: it's all out. I'm happy. I'll bring back pictures, stories, merchandise and maybe more ...

Now, if you'll excuse me. I have to go make this tongue ready to start licking Edward James Olmos and Katee Sackhoff on first sight.

Little Notes #3: Moving Days & Cruel Summers

Summer's here (to my brother's chagrin, he's convinced that summer is jinxed for him), and there are plans around, waiting for the right time, the right moment. There's, for example, a group trip in the plans (for which I will furnish more details later). Closer still is our moving day. The date has been set for June 16th. Thankfully we don't own all that much shit, and we're basically moving our room only, so it should be a pretty simple (or at least short) affair. There have also been talks of going to the beach, going kayaking, a few summer-y things to offset our shut-in natural habits (Eze's and mine). In short, summer promises to be interesting at least.


Moving Day is at Hand (Diana & Eze Edition)

There are a few things I've been meaning to do as soon as we move. It's not so much that I can't do them at our current living space, most of them I can, but I never felt comfortable doing them. Besides, living out of a darkened room (in which only the distant, indirect rays of sun alighted dimly through the half-closed window shades) is at best a glum way to lead a Sunday afternoon.

Things I mean to do as soon as we set new camp in our own apartment:

1) Retake Yoga - it's been more than a year since I last did yoga. I'm sorely missing it... literally. I can feel my bones misaligned (one of the main reasons why I love yoga so much: there are some positions in which my back cracks, and that feels SO good!)

2) Give myself a pedicure and a manicure - my limbs need some TLC. They're dry, cracked and flaky. A nice Sunday afternoon spent soaking hand and feet in soapy water is just what I need.

3) Spend a Saturday morning with a huge coffee mug and a piece of warm bread with margarine in front of my laptop surfing the net, in nothing but my underwear... in the dining room ^_^ windows open to the morning breeze! YAY!

4) Take my sewing machine to be fixed. We'll have space for it now. Maybe I'll finally learn some sewing basics through hands-on experience. If you run into me in a misshapen dress, you'll know it's under way.

I probably have many more plans in my subconscious to carry out as soon as I finally feel "at home" somewhere. And I'll probably blog about them too ... or not.



It's a Cruel Summer

It's been years since I last went to the beach. I don't mean the occasional, full-dressed visit in which you stand at the water's edge and just breathe the salty breeze in, and talk about how pretty the water looks; or you just munch on a greasy fritter while contemplating pork's immortality ("contemplando la inmortalidad del marrano" is one of my favorite pastimes). I'm talking about the all-out, bikini-clad, sunscreen-stinking, sand-in-your-underwear, insecure-in-your-cellulite kind of visit. I haven't bathed in seawater since I got together with Eze. July 24, 2004 was the last day I went (to Playa Ballena, with Jorge Juan, to be exact). I spent all day thinking about the first kiss Eze gave me (the night before, while nursing a bad case of "drunk Diana"). A smile was permanently pasted on my face for the rest of the day. Maybe I would have dedicated a few more minutes to the water and the sand and the sun, had I known "being with Eze" would mean "you will never step toe on the beach again, missy!". ^_^ (I'm just kidding! I like teasing him that way)

We have a friend who's keen into internal tourism. He likes to spend weekends visiting places most Puerto Ricans take for granted. And he's been inviting us for a long time to join him in his trips. He's been wanting to go rappelling, something which Eze and I could marginally do given that the ropes don't break under the stress of our weight. Another thing our friend has suggested is kayaking at the bioluminescent bay in Fajardo. That's a night trip, that's what Eze calls a "boring" trip (mainly 'cuz he can't swim)... that's what I call "an offer I can't refuse". This is one thing I hope to be doing sometime this summer.

The other thing our friend has been insisting on is a trip to the beach. This vexes me a bit: my body is nowhere near "beach-ready". And I know I'll hear my friend's voice protesting because basically that would be product of one of my complexes. But let's talk truth here: my thighs are host to a valley of cellulite. Cellulite has invaded and conquered my thighs. And as much as I can hide and conceal this fact in my everyday clothes, that would be a no-can-do in a swimsuit or bikini. Which would leave me with two options:

1) Terrorize women and small children (plus gross out all those whose eyes are not tolerant of alternate realities to those sold by beer commercials)

2) Dress up in the boricua bestial makeshift beach-going attire par excellence: lycra biker shorts and a huge t-shirt. Which would make me incredibly ridiculous and would probably set a few individuals my way to ask for "el caldero de arroz con pollo" (the cauldron with rice and chicken).

I think I'll opt for #1 if we ever get to go to the beach again. At least people will recoil in horror and get away from me (i.e. leave me alone), instead of the other way around. ^_^


Take-off in July

(More information later on) ;-)

Mid-weekend Burp

I'm not feeling very hot right now (the allergies attack whenever they see I haven't been as dilligent as usual in taking my daily Ioratadine), I've had a pretty long day and another such one awaits me tomorrow.

Today was productive. I -
1) Bought the yearly marbete for my car (yeah, May's the painful month) @ approximately 9:30AM

2) Had breakfast @ the nearest McDonald's @ 10AM

3) Picked my sister up. That took the longest. Getting the kid to dress up to go out is like pushing an elephant up a staircase (which should be as difficult as pushing a cow down the same staircase, I guess)

4) Loaded my car's trunk with plastic bags full of old clothes and plush toys to be given away to the Salvation Army.

5) Drove to the Salvation Army I thought to be open, only to find it was closed. We took advantage of a discarded leather couch that was sitting in front to leave the two humongous plush animals that were dusting up (more!) my car inside. It was a bit sad, seeing the Sad Sam and big teddy bear sitting there, waiting for some lucky chance to be picked up, perhaps be taken to be loved anew all over again.

6) Went back to my house to pick up Luna's medical record, then went back to my Mom's to pick Luna up.

7) Took Luna to the Humane Society clinic for her yearly rabies shot and reinforcements. While I was there, I made the same mistake I always do: I went to the back room, where the animals that are up for adoption live. And I fell in love, like I always do, with every single one of them (of course with ones a bit more than with others). It's always a bit heartbreaking (since I can't have a dog of my own just yet), and always a bit encouraging (the world isn't running out of adorable dogs just yet).

8) Returned Luna to Mom's and headed back out to Caguas (not before watching an episode of Shear Genius, which was pretty entertaining, in the way of "reality TV talent shows").

9) Went to a place I know to wash my car (inside and out, it was in dire need!!! Plopped down $24 for the full treatment. Not sorry at all. At last I can see the color of my dashboard.

10) Met up with a friend of my sister's to help her out with the purchase of a set of makeup brushes. Turns out there was a really good set on sale @ Costco (and her cosmetology teacher recommended they get that one before next class). I have a Costco membership, so I gladly put in the name so she could get the benefit of the price. Got treated to Costco pizza afterwards (not bad at all!) and what was apparently an undercooked churro.

11) ... and then everyone headed off each way: my sister with her friend, me back to home, alone.

... feeling a bit lonely, a bit sad, a bit nervous. Hoping for a better week. Hoping for some much-needed changes soon.

Little Notes #2: Rabbit Schmabbit + Finally they have a living room!

iGasm -
As soon as I sat down at my desk this morning and turned on my computer, Eze sent in this little article on the best gadget ever invented. Here's part of the pitch:

Load up your iPod with killa choons and take your appreciation of music to a whole new level. This genius little device hooks up to your iPod, MP3 player, laptop or CD player and vibrates in sync with the beat. Go at it hard and fast with a pounding drum and bass track or chill with the ambient classic.

I mean, HELL isn't that a nice thing to have? It's the perfect merge between two of my biggest passions: sex and music. If only I had the $50 to spare! :-\



For Rent - 3 Bedroom/1 Bathroom Apartment - Finally, after 4 years of struggle, my Dad has found a decent place to live. Four years ago, he took the decision to move out to the continental US, thinking that his business would fare better with the gringos. First he shacked in with his sister-in-law and her small family in San Antonio, TX (it was an uncomfortable affair for both ends, or so I'm told), then he moved out to Fort Myers, Flawriduh, and that's when his wife decided to join him. To the chagrin of the whole brood of children, they had to be content with squeezing their sore asses into a small, cramped studio that paid what they were paying here for a 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom house. Now, after 2 or so years battling loneliness, dry heat, freak electricity storms and general unemployment, they moved to Orlando. And even though things started faring out the same or worse than before, he has finally been approved for the rent of a comfortable apartment in which the place you shit, eat and sleep is not the same. :-D

Yay for Daddy!!!


(click to view full size)




Bonus: the very cool, very silly Rick just sent me this:


(click to view full size)

Thank youuuu! ^_^ LOL!

Little Notes #1: On families, Cyberspace and Erotic Lyrics

* Last night we visited a new friend's home. We were kindly invited there to watch the Season Finale of Heroes. Our friend's family was the kindest ever: we got well fed, and they tended to us as if we were kings. Talk about warmth and welcome in a family! It's not so much that they had droves of platters filled with finger food, chocolate-covered strawberries and fritters. That was very nice, indeed (as was the excellent piña colada! Thanks, Rebecca!) It has much more to do with the attention, the immediate welcome, not as a guest, but as family. The warmth that enveloped me as soon as I went through the door could only be topped by the warmth I feel around my family and very close friends. It was glaringly obvious right then and there that this family is filled with love to give: as they shower each other with love and acceptance, the warmth around them grows, and we, the moths of affection, adore hovering around such a family's glowing hearth.

** A few things that have been happening in my personal life have made me reconsider my "cyberspace presence". Not so much that I want to run away and hide, but there are parts of me and my personal life that I want to keep out of people's radars. I realized today (by way of a small, insignificant detail) that there are people out there that will react passionately or violently to things I say or things I do, by which I mean no harm. In this particular situation, it was someone I don't even know, but there will be times in which it will be people I DO know ... and sometimes it will be people that don't like me, or people I don't like. Do I want to expose one of my hobbies (internet surfing) to the possibility of scrutiny and pollution by people who would otherwise never care?

I'm a decidedly private person (after a few years in which I kept myself and all nasty details of my life in the open). I don't want to be in the radar of just anyone who wants to be. (This blog is not part of what I'm reconsidering, though. I'm pretty sure of the things I write here and how they might look to the anonymous public who comes in to read it.) So you might see some changes soon in the things that compose my cybernetic presence...


*** Musical Erotica ... Because these last few days, these two songs have been looping through my mind, perhaps little more than they should. Maybe my sensual side is calling for a renascent era ... or maybe I'm turning into a full fledged wiccan hippie and I don't know it yet ...

Oh well! Here they are... (both songs are from the 1973 version - the superior version!!! - of The Wicker Man)

Willow's Song
by Paul Giovanni

Heigh ho! Who is there?
No one but me, my dear.
Please come say, How do?
The things I'll give to you.
By stroke as gentle as a feather
I'll catch a rainbow from the sky
And tie the ends together.
Heigh ho! I am here
Am I not young and fair?
Please come say, How do?
The things I'll show to you.
Would you have a wond'rous sight
The midday sun at midnight?
Fair maid, white and red,
Comb you smooth and stroke your head
How a maid can milk a bull!
And every stroke a bucketful.

Maypole Song
by Paul Giovanni

In the woods there grew a tree
And a fine fine tree was he

And on that tree there was a limb
And on that limb there was a branch
And on that branch there was a nest
And in that nest there was an egg
And in that egg there was a bird
And from that bird a feather came
And of that feather was
A bed

And on that bed there was a girl
And on that girl there was a man
And from that man there was a seed
And from that seed there was a boy
And from that boy there was a man
And for that man there was a grave
From that grave there grew
A tree

I think I finally turned into a total nature-loving, tree-hugger hippie :-\

Snow White, Grass Bright

I got a call earlier last week from a friend that had been away for a while. The call in itself was a surprise, then the other shoe dropped: she wanted me as a stand-in for a photography class assignment (again). I had worked with her before. As a matter of fact: those brief incursions into what "being a model" would feel like were interesting at their worst, pretty fun at their best. I've always hated to be on the other side of the camera lens, the side that exposes more of my body and less of my mind. But helping her with her projects opened up my curiosity about how is it that people see me from outside myself. I like exploring the possibilities other brains find around my physiognomy.

This photo shoot was considerably simpler than the ones I had worked with her before. She picked me up a little after 9 AM last Saturday and we went to a nice park a few blocks away from my house. The place is wonderfully green and fresh, filled with trees, with a few playground areas, a basketball court, a tennis court, and a walking path all throughout. Add to that the quiet nature of our neighborhood, and the park turns into a small emerald paradise among our homes.

My friend's idea for the photo shoot was a modern-day Snow White theme, using the blue, red and yellow colors (typical Disney Snow White scheme). She brought two apples, and I was a happy camper. "Apple shoots" get me a free apple after we're done. I was supposed to lay on the ground and play dead, which was fine by me (despite the prickly grass). We were done quickly, in spite of prickly grass, the pesky sun in my eyes, and territorial mosquitoes. I realized that simpler photo shoots also make for simpler dynamics: less people means less crossed thoughts. It was a fun, sweet time, and the product of it is not half bad either (although the model, a.k.a. me, looks like a beached whale). But I instantly loved the vibrance of the colors. She still hasn't showed me all the pictures she took. She worked with a digital camera, the picture on top came from that one. But she also used Colorsplash and Holga cameras - which is film - so we still have a few results to view.

Photo by Lyraida M. Caraballo.