Me. Yes. Me.

"Missy! Missy! Missy" ~

2012-01-20T19:53:00.001-04:00

Just finished my first official week back at teaching, because I don't really count the two weeks I sorta-kinda taught in December. My body is sore, I have no voice (but it's because I have a cold that won't go away and yelling - I mean teaching - all day doesn't help), and I am in desperate need for a beer. But it's one week less of work, and one week more of experience. And here's what I've learned thus far.

Everything I ever heard from teachers before is true. Students are spoiled, disrespectful, lazy and out of control. Sometimes you feel like you are powerless, like you can never get your point across because you have to act like a maternal figure for 32 kids all at the same time. Let me tell you, I am getting the maternal skills I never wanted to get in the first place. Yet you regain that power when you see them looking all scared at you and actually listen for 3.2 seconds.

Which leads me to the positive side, and boy is it plenty (and also what I had heard from my fellow mentor teachers). Damn it's rewarding. To have a kid go from the kid who the first day was jumping up and down all over the place, to saying the words "Finally a teacher who's teaching me English," to making other students quiet down because he "wanted to learn." Seeing progress is a beautiful thing, specially when it's the ones who on the first day admitted to hating English because they didn't know anything, who are the ones now constantly participating in class.

It's my first week. My journey and theirs has only begun.

~ 500 Times a day, 5 days a week by my 7th graders

"I'll admit today I've gone too far, to enamour myself of my little motor car." ~

2012-01-06T21:27:00.000-04:00

Buying a car is like dating. You have a few things on your mind before you go and look at them. You arrive at the first dealership and try one out, it's pretty good and the price for the guarantee is looking swell, they're even going to help you finance the whole thing considering this is your first big credit purchase. It may not be what you had in mind before you got there, but it'll do. Then you go to another, and another. You try each of them out, still wondering which one to choose. But then you arrive to that dealer that has THE car, the one that you fall in love with right away, the one that you sit in and decide all the others were never going to compare to this one. The price and the guarantee, miles per gallon and everything else you know you want in a car are there. Yet you leave it to go home and make your final decision. And up ahead there's another dealership that has the no-brainer car, the one that everyone recommends. In the end you still haven't made up your mind, they're all great cars. Now it's all about deciding which one is "the one".

~Belle & Sebastian "I Love My Car"

"Cheers to the freakin' weekend." ~

2011-12-31T18:31:00.000-04:00

So of course I write here on the day that obligates us to reminisce on the year we're leaving behind. A day that feels weird and has the uncertainty as to how I will actually be saying goodbye to it, which is a first. Usually there's some family party or some VIP shindig, but this year there's nothing of the sort. There are last minute invitations from people I adore, so making up my mind as to who I want to be with when the time comes is kind of a tough one.

I find it appropriate that it's been so long that I've been here that blogger has updated the interface. I was going to comment on the fact that I felt proud that this was another year I hadn't succumbed to tumblr, but this shinny new look might as well teach me a lesson that not everything stands still. Specially blogs that have been here too long for those few readers that still peep into it from time to time, and most of all, for myself.

Let the reflection begin on 2011. It wasn't bad, it wasn't great, it was, like any other year. Things began, things ended, some things never started. New jobs were the norm. Past ghosts resurfaced. Changes were all over the place. They would have scared the hell out of me at some point or another, but this year they were welcome.

Thanksgiving was spent watching home videos courtesy of my aunt and uncle's old Sony camcorder. This week more videos resurfaced courtesy of cousin's parent's camera. I thank them for filming my childhood. With my Christmas money I bought a Sony Bloggie Duo. Here's to capturing my moments there, for others to enjoy in the future. Past and Present collided beautifully in 2011, and that I will take with me for 2012.

~Rihanna "Cheers (Drink to That)"

"Please just don't play with me, my paper heart will bleed." ~

2011-11-12T11:54:00.003-04:00

Last Friday Night

she said

he said

they all said

the office is a high school

last days and goodbyes

they all live a lie

~All-American Rejects "My Paper Heart"

View from the 18th floor

2011-11-08T19:09:00.003-04:00

for about Four months

I've translated

.correction.

i-n-t-e-r-p-r-e-t-e-d

Oui, there's a difference

goodbye to the office

lovely coworkers

the phone

coffee, wraps, yogurt

the train

sametime

now I get the chance

to face the fear of...

Teaching

Educating

Abnormal

Children

Hormonal

Ignorant

Normal

Grading

hello classroom

best friend around

desks

frozens, empanadillas, nutella

chalkboard

notes

A playlist for a train/bus ride home.

2011-09-27T21:22:00.004-04:00

(Songs listened to on the way home yesterday afternoon and made it lovely, the ones I could remember anyway):

Beck: "It's All In Your Mind"
Sia: "Rewrite"
Sigur Rós: "Hoppípolla"
Radiohead: "Karma Police"
Emmy the Great and Jeremy Warmsley: "Poor Little Rich Boy"
Stars: "Elevator Love Letter"

Thesis-ing

2011-09-14T16:01:00.003-04:00

From Rhys, Stead, Lessing, and the Politics of Empathy by Judith Kegan Gardiner

"Rhys said that she lied but that her fiction told truth, especially the truths that life is unfair and social conventions mad. Fiction would redress this unfairness, not through the poetic justice of inventing a better world, but instead through the representation of an unfair world, which, unlike the social reality we normally perceive, obtrudes its unfairness upon us."

"Frequently she complained that no one had told her what life would be like. Her writing, then, acts to validate her perceptions by creating a world that operates according to the rules she perceives in society."

a song for september beginning

2011-09-01T21:07:00.003-04:00

Adele "First Love"

So little to say but so much time,
despite my empty mouth the words are in my mind.
Please wear the face, the one where you smile,
because you lighten up my heart when I start to cry.

Forgive me first love, but I'm tired.
I need to get away to feel again.
Try to understand why, don't get so close to change my mind.
Please wipe that look out of your eyes, it's bribing me to doubt myself;
simply, it's tiring.

This love has dried up and stayed behind,
and if I stay I'll be alive,
then choke on words I'd always hide.
Excuse me first love, but we're through.
I need to taste the kiss from someone knew.

Forgive me first love, but I'm too tired.
I'm bored to say the least and I, I lack desire.
Forgive me first love, forgive me first love,

forgive me first love, forgive me first love,

forgive me, forgive me first love,

forgive me first love.

"Oh Mickey, you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind, Hey Mickey!"

2011-08-31T16:05:00.003-04:00

-BEGIN CALL-
“Thank you for calling Translation Line, this is Celia speaking, how can I help you?”
“My name is Joan and I’m calling from the Disney Benefit Center and I have a participant on the line who requires Spanish assistance.”
“Okay Joan, whenever you’re ready you may bring them on the line.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
*BEEP*
-“Gracias por esperar. Mi nombre es Celia y seré su interprete durante esta llamada, en línea está Joan de su centro de beneficios de Disney. ¿Me podría dar su nombre por favor?”
-Martina Perez.
-“My name is Martina Perez.”
“Hello Martina. For security purposes can you verify the last four digits of your social security number and your date of birth please?”
-“Saludos Martina. Por motivos de seguridad, ¿me podría verificar los últimos cuatro dígitos de su seguro social y su fecha de nacimiento por favor?”
-Sí. 0022 y 24 de febrero de 1927.
-“Yes. 0022 and February 24, 1927.”
“Thank you. How can I help you today?”
-“Gracias. ¿Cómo le puedo ayudar en el día de hoy?”
-Es que recibí una carta de Disney diciéndome que llamara aquí para que me orienten sobre mi plan de pensión. Pero es que yo no puedo vivir sin mi trabajo y no quiero mi pensión.
-“It’s just that I received a letter from Disney telling me to call here so I can be informed of my pension plan. But it’s just that I can’t live without my job and I don’t want my pension.”
“I see. So you’re not calling to see how much your pension would be but to rather inform that you’d rather keep working instead of receiving it, is that correct?”
-“Ya veo. Así que usted no desea saber de cuanto sería su pensión sino informar que usted desea continuar trabajando en vez de recibirlo, ¿eso es correcto?”
“Sí.”
-“Yes.”
“Okay. Well, Martina, as long as you keep working at the part-time you’re currently at, then you remain as an active cast member and your pension benefit will not begin. But just remember, any time you do decide to no longer work for the company you need to call us so we can begin this benefit for you, okay?”
-“Muy bien. Entonces, Martina, siempre y cuando usted continúe trabajando a tiempo parcial donde usted actualmente está, continuará como empleada activa y su beneficio de pensión no comenzará. Ahora recuerde, que en cualquier momento que usted decida no seguir trabajando para la compañía, nos tiene que llamar para que podamos comenzar este beneficio para usted, ¿está bien?”
-Sí, sí, entiendo. Pero es que no quiero dejar mi trabajo. Aunque sean tres días, dos días, hasta un día, si me dejan yo seguiré trabajando para Disney. Es que, déjeme decirle que yo amo a Disney. Siempre he trabajado para la compañía desde el comienzo y siempre me quiero quedar aquí. Yo adoro a Mickey.
-“Yes, yes, I understand. But it’s just that I don’t want to leave my job. Even if it’s three days, two days, even one day, if they let me, I will continue working for Disney. It’s just that, let me tell you, I love Disney. I have always worked for the company since the beginning and I always want to stay here. I adore Mickey.”
“Well Martina, now that you have all the information regarding your pension plan, is there anything else that I can help you with?”
-“Bueno Martina, ahora que usted tiene toda la información en cuanto a su plan de pensión, ¿hay algo más que le pueda ayudar?”
-No, eso era todo lo que quería saber. Gracias. Gracias a las dos…
-“No, that is all that I wanted to know. Thank you. Thank you both.”
“You’re welcome Martina, have a good day.”
-“De nada Martina, que tenga un buen día.”
-Gracias, igual.
-“Thanks, the same to you.”
“Bye. Thanks Celia for your help.”
-“No problem Joan, have a nice day.”
-END CALL-

~Toni Basil "Mickey"

Two overdue quotes.

2011-08-13T14:23:00.004-04:00

From Kurt Vonnegut's Welcome to the Monkey House:

"I never knew a writer's wife who wasn't beautiful."

"As Scholes said later, Yates is the sort of man lexicographers read in order to discover what pretty new things the language is up to."

This book is brilliant, and these two quotes don't do any justice to it, I just truly liked them.

"They call it night. They call it night and I know it well." ~

2011-08-08T20:09:00.006-04:00

Every day I make notes on my cell phone. Mainly it's things I want to write about. They keep ending up in sticky notes on my desktop. This is an attempt to cover as many unwritten topics as I can tonight.

Ces made everyone who was at Yari's birthday this weekend say three things they liked about their physical body. For some people it was easier than others. My mom kept harassing the point of the activity. Ces mentioned how it was done in one of the workshops she went to this week and how she realized how easy it is for us to point out our flaws and not our good traits. The interesting part came when we each started telling one another's favorite three physical aspects. None of us are beauty pageant winners nor do we care, but one thing that all of us felt was flattered and a nice self-esteem boost went around that night. What I couldn't help thinking was, "We are family. We see each other constantly. And yet we've never said this to one another."

So think of your three things. Then ask someone close to you to do the same. Then share each other's three. I promise it'll be worthwhile.

Going home that night the trip home was weird. All through the curves in Good Waters, cars were stopping in the middle of the street, a horse almost caused a car crash, a dog wanted to be run over, and mom's crazy talented driving skills were put through every test. Basically when we arrived to the civilization of Caguas I once again gave thanks to live in the city. Until the cops were everywhere, streets were closed and it took a while to get home. Twitter let me know that someone was gunned down on the street where we pass on a regular basis. At that moment we passed by a car crash (perhaps foreshadowed by the crazy driving before) and I just wanted to get home. A home that lately is too hot.

Home. That word that signifies too many things at too many different times in my life. No place seems good enough to fit it now.

This leads me to my last thought. It was brought on this afternoon when I tweeted about saying goodbye to another friend leaving to the States. This month will be categorized as number one in people leaving to progress in their life, whether to study, work or to be with their significant other. A few goodbyes have been done, many more to go. I don't blame them. Heck, I'll probably do the same as soon as I can. A night like Saturday can convince anyone of that (and that is child's play to the things happening on a daily basis here).

Then I look at the images of London, city I adore and one of the very few I would actually see myself living in, and then...damn.

~Beirut "The Gulag Orkestar"

Some summer thoughts (from others).

2011-07-23T17:25:00.004-04:00

From Shakespeare and Company's "The Paris Magazine" Issue 4, June 2010

"I am not a writer - although I have all the pretensions with none of the talent. Like most North American adolescents, I grew up thinking that I was unusual and that I alone understood Salinger like no one else." ~David Rakoff's "Tumbleweed Biography"

"The only people who survived were those who did not follow the path of those famous love stories." ~Alexander Kluge's "Seven Love Stories"

"Of course the designation of 'at least four of the following symptoms' = diagnosis is precise and arbitrary at the same tine. And of course, the list could equally describe what falling in love feels like." ~Rivka Galchen

"The errors inherent in categorizing human experience can be as fortunate as the failure of literary genre labels to pen in literature." ~Rivka Galchen

"In the end, we all suffer from Personality Disorder Not Otherwise Specified." ~ Rivka Galchen

"Only literature is couture." ~Rivka Galchen

"We call it - well, we spend all our lives expanding the list of names for the unnameable." ~Rivka Galchen's "The Key to all Pathologies"

"Every individual is however capable of producing a sort of cold revolution within himself by stepping outside the infomercial flow. It's very easy to do. It has in fact never been simpler than today to adopt an aesthetic position in relation to the world: all you have to do is take a step to the side. And this step in the final instance is itself useless. It is enough pause; to switch off the radio, unplug the television; not to buy anything else, not to want to buy anything else. It is enough to no longer take part, to no longer know; to temporarily suspend all mental activity. It is enough, literally, to be still for a few seconds." ~ Michel Houellebecq's "Approaches to Distress"

"And dinosaur sex led to nothing, but I will lead as far as I can lead." ~

2011-07-11T18:23:00.006-04:00

My sugar levels are up and down

down and Up

I fight to not eat,

eat to not fight

Cheese.

I watch

dance shows

comedy shows

drama shows

singing shows

What does that show?

There's an 18th floor I see from

or not see from, only hear from

Friends with voices, faces I'll never know

Phone phobia may be gone

but I still can't say hello to you

Ignoring social media with my smart phone

Always checking my smart phone

I want a normal phone

tengo hambre.

siempre.

Chocolate Cheerios.

ignoring being a teacher
can i be a teacher?

the papers i avoid signing say i Will be

I go to the office,

not The Office where I drink

not The Office I watch

Received my check.

Since when do I translate?

Time to Think about My thesis

hello Jean Rhys

My elevator's here.

The train's late again.

~Emmy the Great "Dinosaur Sex"

"Desearía tener algo que decirte y que sonase muy bueno como una espada". ~

2011-06-05T13:18:00.005-04:00

I noticed today that the scar on my left food has almost completely faded. If I look at it from a certain light, the skin still shimmers with its remains. Where did I get it? Paris. How did I get it? That story will never truly be clear in my mind, one minute I'm walking in my hotel room, the next I'm on my bed taking that picture due to my disbelief of my idiocy. Whether I crashed into the door, the side of the bed, the suitcases on the floor, the world will never know. It was my last night of balling in Paris and it literally left a mark on me. I will forever treasure the clichés that came along with it. Now here I am about a month and a half later and avoiding being reminiscent already, but I guess it comes with the territory of seeing everyone's faces this weekend in a post-Paris soirée. There we were, the common denominator of the city taken away from us and you could feel something was different, kind of off even, amongst all of us. Sure, they're still wonderful people and we'll always have a soft spot for each other, but it will never amount to whatever it was while we were there. As mister Hemingway rightly concludes, "Chasing yesterdays is a bum show." Which is why I'm glad for a summer that I has so many possibilities, relying on all the uncertainty that comes with not knowing what is going to be in store just around the corner.

~El Guincho "(Chica-Oh) Drims"

How I spent my rapture weekend vacation

2011-05-22T22:31:00.005-04:00

I just got back from a weekend on the other side of the island. Overall it was a nice little getaway in the middle of a semester that I have yet to end, but keep on acting like it's over with. Because let's face it, after taking my comp exams, everything else seems like a piece of cake. (While I'm on the topic, I was assured by a reliable source that I passed, but I have yet to receive official word to convince my cynical self.) Have I mentioned that this thing was a sorority convention event? Yes, there are sororities in Puerto Rico, a fact that still boggles my mind. No, I am not a part of this, I was included for reasons I don't feel like posting here in full detail other than the fact that I got a free weekend stay at a nice hotel with all expenses paid.

I brought in rapture day with sorority chicks and what felt like a sequel to prom. What can be more apocalyptic than that?

21 May via Twitter for BlackBerry®

Anywhoot, the point of this (other than to shed some personal details to this egotistically titled blog) is that there were a few things that I found interesting during the whole thing. One was how I found that no matter how high on the social sphere people are here, there is still a sense of patriotism when alcoholized. During one of the many shindigs, a batucada came in and out of everyone's lungs came the classic "yo soy boricua, pa' que tú lo sepas". Of course, this positive note came to an abrupt halt when they changed it to "yo soy *insert semi-anonymous sorority name here* pa' que tú lo sepas".

"Who told you to get married in the end of the world?" - American tourist to newlywed bride

22 May via Twitter for BlackBerry®

But what really got to me and my wanting to be a hater all weekend in me was that the whole sister thing is somehow there. I made a mental note (and actual cellphone memo) to remember that I found the act of uniting and working hard to do so many things as a group was a nice thing to witness. Somehow the things that I had made fun of the night before I left talking with a few friends in refugio just didn't seem true. Until I went to the bathroom and overheard anorexia lessons and gossip, and the whiskey sours I drank all night loss their effect of course. In the end I know that no social group can ever live up to their expectations, not even if they pledge alliance and love. We are after all human. Nevertheless it was a nice insight look into a faraway world from mine and if anything it also taught me this: there are nice rich girls, just meet them when they're fourteen instead of twenty.

"Sands of time - Are lying - On my chest." ~

2011-05-03T21:31:00.005-04:00

I realized that the previous post is incomplete. Sure, I purposely left out some that would put certain people to shame (not that any of them would read it here, I assume). But these I left out because I had totally forgotten about them. It happened one night that I gave my apartment - I mean excuse me, hotel room - up for the girls to chill/party in. When I grabbed my notebook to write something completely unrelated, one of the girls said one of those unpostable quotes, to which everyone (rightly) assumed I wrote down. I denied all suspicions and put the notebook away, to keep them happy. Little does anyone know about the use of twitter on the island so I opted to jot down a few of the lines there. So from twitter (my daily mini-blog so to speak) to this, here are the missing pieces of those memories disguised as quotes .

"Falta una chica, dónde está Nelson?" - E

"Nosotras vamos a llegar allá de luto". - L

"Cuandio Dios te hizo, te miró y dijo, esto me quedó cabrón". - E

"Falta Nelson, dónde está Nelson?" - T

"Me encanta que llamamos los cuartos apartamentos. Todas juramos que vivimos aquí y sólo llevamos tres días". - R

~Air "Run"

Ballin' in Paris

2011-04-26T16:57:00.006-04:00

Every trip you make you realize something about yourself. I realized how I've always been quoting people on trips. I had a trip journal with me and as always there comes a point when you don't have time anymore to write your daily shenanigans, but I did keep writing quotes. People noticed this at the beginning of the trip and they would later come to me with their "you should have been there Celi, so and so said this and this." I'd like to think that making it onto the quotebook made them feel special or something. Although I have to admit that they are basically full of those who were around me the most, my lovely roommate Michelle and David (whose quotes are the most priceless I have to admit, you will see).

At the Luxembourg Gardens with David I had a conversation about this. The types of conversations that can only happen when you're sitting down and looking at loveliness all around you in complete leisure. He pointed out that he liked what I said, inadvertently making me quote myself. So without further ado here are all the quotes that were captured in my journal and in my Christmas tree pad (which was easier to carry around), because as I said to David that afternoon, "With a picture you might capture an image, but with quotes you capture a memory."

"I've never enjoyed going into the darkness as much as I am right now." - Elba on sundown magic on the airplane

"You haven't counted?" and the now infamous "Voilà!" - Beatrice

"Loa baños de San Sebastian estaban más limpios". - Ever on public toilettes

"I'm running on safe mode right now." - Michelle

"This is hipster city. It's my very own museum. Míralo, míralo, tiene una camisa que representa el bici-jangueo...¿qué señal más clara que esa?" - Elba in Pompidou

"Souvenirs: mass quantities of nothingness." - Elba

"You're having a problem with a lock. You're lucky you're with the group of Puerto Ricans." - Michelle

"There's a pretty building I saw and want to see closer, do you guys mind if we go?" - David

"David, that's Notre Dame." - Me

"El Gyro: la tripleta de Paris." - Luis

"He's a walking souvenir." - Elba

"That's all a guy needs to be with me: a Y chromosome and astigmatism." - Michelle

"We were in Paris bitch, metiéndole bellaco". - Elba

"Yo quiero comprar la isla de cabra. Eso va a ser mi país". - Gio

"Volkies con marineros - eso no va". - Vero

"This isn't Disney, it's not like he's Mickey Mouse." - Vero

"Yo siempre atento contra mi vida. That's my thing." - Denise

"¿Hicieron su bonding verdá? Ahora todo el mundo se conoce". - Elba on Notre Dame line

"A la verdad que Disney nos mintió". - Nelson

"There's a bathroom there. But there's chocolate over there." - David

"Can I just have sex with this store?" - David

"Ustedes se dan cuenta que estamos en Paris y estamos hablando de la universidad. I just wanted to point that out." - Leishla

"Tu culo está hermoso". - Priscilla

"Little known fact: Michelle doesn't give a fuck." - Michelle

"Which part do you eat of this?" - David on a pork knuckle.

"You eat every part David, you eat the whole damn thing." - Sanders

"I almost want to become a priest in France just to live here and smoke hookah in the back." - David in St. Sulpice

"Zelda (Fitzgerald) was ballin' all over the mental institutions." - Swope

"It would be my pleasure." - French Guy

"Be our guest." - Michelle

"I can't get a sandwich so I'm getting a beer." - Michelle's analysis on David's decisions

"To ballin' with Amélie." - Victor

"Naked does not equal pretty." - Michelle

"Apparently I'm only good at reading dead people's maps." - David

"It's like a neighborhood of dead people."- David

"The disaster is so bright she has to wear shades." - Michelle

"I'm part German." - Swope

"Really? Which part?" - Sanders

"Important philosophical question: Is mustard a solid or a liquid?" - Michelle

"Trying to keep the origin of ballin' a secret." - Michelle

"On zee left you see Green Island." - Luis

"Charktres." - Luis

" There's magic and beauty in Forster, and weakness, and a little laziness, and some stupidity. He's like us. " ~

2011-04-02T08:48:00.006-04:00

I'm never one to go on these, "I hate this year" or "I hate this month" kind of rants. This is the exception. March sucked, as in s-u-c-k-e-d, as in there is no amount of words that are worthy of amounting to its suckage, therefore this sentence will have to do. Ces started a showdown at the beginning of the month, something that our friends and I continued. In the end I think most of us won, but it might have cost a few of us a little more than we expected. They say the good comes with the bad and I think I will go on and blame that for what happened. All I know is that my body and mind took its toll last month and I will try to not let it happen again this semester. After all, it isn't my fault that this is CompExamsHell-(meaning fifty theory essays and thirty novels)-trip taking-two job-while still wanting to have a life-semester.

There's no point in taking it too seriously with everything else going on in the world, right? At least that's how I see it now, which probably explains my whole new carefree attitude starting the day I decided to say goodbye to March and brought on April. Sure, I may return from my trip only to have the follow-up of my CompExamsHell, but how can I not be in a lighter mood on a month that begins its first day making fun of fools? The fact that I woke up with a text message from my brother saying he got arrested after our hanging out (see icon above) was only further proof of this. After the urge of wanting to kill him went away, I smiled and continued that first day, one of many this month that I am sure to be memorable.

~Zadie Smith's Changing My Mind

"On writing in the First Person" ~

2011-03-12T16:59:00.004-04:00

~From Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast: The Restored Edition:

"When you first start writing stories in the first person, if the stories are made so real that people believe them, the people reading them nearly always think the stories really happened to you. That is natural because while you were making them up you had to make them happen to the person who was telling them. If you do this successfully enough, you make the person who is reading them believe that the things happened to him too.

If you can do this you are beginning to get what you are trying for, which is to make something that will become a part of the reader's experience and a part of his memory. There must be things that he did not notice when he read the story or the novel which, without his knowing it, enter into his memory and experience so that they are a part of his life. This is not easy to do.

What is, if not easy, almost always possible to do is for members of the private detective school of literary criticism to prove that the writer of fiction written in the first person could not possibly have done everything that the narrator did or, perhaps, not even any of it. What importance this has or what it proves except that the writer is not devoid of imagination or the power of invention I have never understood."

I strive for this one day.

2011-02-24T19:19:00.003-04:00

From Zadie Smith's Changing my Mind: Occasional Essays,

4. MIDDLE-OF-THE-NOVEL MAGICAL THINKING

In the middle of a novel, a kind of magical thinking takes over. To clarify, the middle of the novel may not happen in the actual geographical center of the novel. By middle of the novel I mean whatever page you are on when you stop being part of your household and your family and your partner and children and food shipping and dog feeding and reading the post - I mean when there is nothing in the world except your book, and even as your wife tells you she's sleeping with your brother her face is a gigantic semicolon, her arms are parentheses and you are wondering whether rummage is a better verb than rifle.

The middle of the novel is a state of mind. Strange things happen in it. Time collapses. You sit down to write at 9 A.M., you blink, the evening news is on and four thousand words are written, more words than you wrote in three long months, a year ago. Something has changed. And it's not restricted to the house. If you go outside, everything - I mean, everything - flows freely into your novel. Someone on the bus says something - it's straight out of your novel. You open the paper - every single story in the paper is directly relevant to your novel.

If you are fortunate enough to have someone waiting to publish your novel, this is the point at which you phone them in panic and try to get your publication date brought forward because you cannot believe how in tune the world is with your unfinished novel right now, and if it isn't published next Tuesday maybe the moment will pass and you will have to kill yourself.

Magical thinking makes you crazy - and renders everything possible. Incredibly knotty problems of structure now resolve themselves with inspired ease. See that one paragraph? It only needs to be moved, and the whole chapter falls into place! Why didn't you see that before? You randomly pick a poetry book off the shelf and the first line you read ends up being your epigraph - it seems to have been written for no other reason.

Steiner in La Dolce Vita

2011-01-25T17:10:00.002-04:00

"Don't be like me. Salvation doesn't lie within four walls. I'm too serious to be a dilettante and too much a dabbler to be a professional. Even the most miserable life is better than a sheltered existence in an organized society where everything is calculated and perfected."

"We must get beyond passions, like a great work of art. In such miraculous harmony. We should love each other outside of time... detached."

"What would life be? Without a song or a dance what are we? So I say thank you for the music, for giving it to me." ~

2011-01-18T18:46:00.006-04:00

After several weeks of Christmas shindigs, a cough that won't go away and prepping reading lists for my upcoming exams, I actually read a book today. During vacation breaks I used to always read for myself, but somewhere along the graduate studying line reading no longer was a break for me. My hobby became my studies (and future job I suppose) and therefore I needed something else to take my mind off of things. Hence, lots of television show watching, which I still argue is helping me work out narratives in my head and storytelling techniques or some mumbo-jumbo like that.

The point is that although this is a required reading for my only course this semester, I thought I should give it a go before I get into studying full-time for my exams. I was surprised to be moved by it and getting back that feeling of wanting to read just for pleasure's sake. A lovely little book by the wonderful James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room is making me turn on my reading light tonight and possibly tackle things like the Ulysses that arrived today. From the aforementioned book, a little quote:

"And yet -when one begins to search for the crucial, the definitive moment, the moment which changed all others, one finds oneself pressing, in great pain, through a maze of false signals and abruptly locking doors."

~ABBA "Thank You For the Music"

Food for thought on Christmas Eve.

2010-12-24T15:54:00.004-04:00

"It seems to me that if you place music (and books, probably, and films, and plays, and anything else that makes you feel) at the center of your being, then you can't afford to sort out your love life, start to think of it as the finished product. You've got to pick it at it, keep it alive and in turmoil, you've got to pick at it and unravel it until it all comes apart and you're compelled to start all over again. Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as a consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.

Maybe Al Green is directly responsible for more than I ever realized."

~Nick Hornby High Fidelity

"Once upon a time in a town like this, a little girl made a great big wish." ~

2010-12-18T19:36:00.005-04:00

My sister found this handwritten piece of paper of mine from what I think is fifth-grade me. Back when I dotted my I's with little circles (thank goodness never with little hearts). Turns out to be a dessert I used to make as a kid, a weird pie of sorts that tasted just as the title suggests. My fifth-grade typos are not edited, the only thing I would edit is changing Jon Hamm instead of Leo. Anyways, enjoy the retroblog of sorts (and if you ever make it, the dessert itself).

The next best thing to Leonardo Dicaprio

Ingredients:

1 pkg Oreo Cookies
1 stick butter
2 small packages instant French Vanilla Pudding
3 c milk
8 oz. container Cool Whip
8 oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened

Directions

Melt butter in small saucepan. Crumble oreos (crush with potato macher in large bowl) save about ⅓ c for toping. Press mixture into a buttered 9x13 pan. Mix together cream cheese, milk, and pudding in a blender! Spread over cookie mix in pan. Spread cool whip on top and sprinkle w/oreo leftovers. Chil 1 hour!

~Train "Shake Up Christmas"

Let my statuses speak for my lack of words/posts.

2010-12-13T23:23:00.001-04:00

Why writing fades.

2010-10-29T23:05:00.004-04:00

"No wonder you’ve got no script, you’re too busy inventing your own life." ~Luisa Contini in Nine

octubre ii.

2010-10-13T20:48:00.003-04:00

"En ese estado de alucinada lucidez no solo veían las imágenes de sus propios sueños, sino que los unos veían las imágenes soñadas por los otros".

~Gabriel García Márquez 100 años de soledad

octubre.

2010-10-13T13:42:00.005-04:00

"-Ay, hijo -suspiró-. A mí me bastaría con estar seguro de que tú y yo existimos en este momento".

~Gabriel García Márquez 100 años de soledad

From Kerouac's 'On the Road'

2010-10-07T10:17:00.004-04:00

"I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was - I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost."

"Then he whispered, clutching my sleeve, sweating, 'Now you just dig them in front. They have worries, they're counting the miles, they're thinking about where to sleep tonight, how much money for gas, the weather, how they'll get there -and all the time they'll get there anyway, you see. But they need to worry and betray time with urgencies false and otherwise, purely anxious and whiny, their souls really won't be at peace unless they can latch on to an established and proven worry and having once found it they assume facial expressions to fit and go with it, which is, you see, unhappiness, and all the time it all flies by them and they know it and that too worries them no end'."

"You don't die enough to cry."

"What's your road, man? - holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow. Where body how?"

"We had finally found the magic land at the end of the road and we never dreamed the extent of the magic."

"'It's a strange, good smell,' said Dean. 'I'm not going to change my shirt till Mexico City, I want to take it all in and remember it.'"

Song Post: Back to School Edition

2010-09-12T16:06:00.003-04:00

"Academia" by Sia

You can be my alphabet and I will be your calculator
And together we'll work out on the escalator
I will time you as you run up the down
And you'll measure my footsteps as I pleasure this town
The mean of our heights is divided by the nights
Which is times'd by the daggers and the root of all our fights,
The pass of your poem is to swathe me in your knowing
And the beauty of the word is that you don't have to show it

Oh academia you can't pick me up
Soothe me with your words when I need your love

I am a dash and you are a dot
When will you see that I am all that you've got
I'm a binary code that you cracked long ago
But to you I'm just a novel that you wish you'd never wrote
I'm greater than x and lesser than y, so why is it
That I still can't catch your eye?
You're a cryptic crossword, a song I've never heard
While I sit here drawing circles I'm afraid of being hurt

Oh academia you can't pick me up
Soothe me with your words when I need your love

You're a difficult equation with a knack for heart evasion
Will you listen to my proof or will you add another page on
It appears to me the graph has come and stolen all the laughs
It appears to me the pen has over analysed again
And if I am a number I'm infinity plus one
And if you are five words you are afraid to be the one
And if you are a number you're infinity plus one
And if I am four words then I am needing all your love

Oh academia you can't pick me up
Soothe me with your words when I need your love
Academia

"A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes." ~

2010-09-11T15:36:00.005-04:00

His eyes were blood-shot red. At first I thought he had pink eye, but then I resorted to think he had allergies. As I walked back with him so he could take my dreadful 2X2 photographs, I just couldn't help but ask him if he was alright. I thought he would just shake it off and say "Sí" but never in a million years I expected him to break down and cry as he fumbled with the digital camera. As he made me smile and counted to three he explained that his mother was really really sick and he didn't know if she would make it. I tried to say 'my condolences' but my Spanish fumbled into telling him I was sorry instead since I couldn't think of what was condolences in Spanish. As I paid for my pictures I let him know I hoped she got better and I hope he listened to one of his coworkers who told him he should go home. His hesitation to leave still haunts me.

~Florence and the Machine "Cosmic Love"

Quoting: Back to School Edition

2010-09-07T13:13:00.006-04:00

"Cada vez más se afirmaba la convicción de que la vida de un hombre basta apenas para conocer, entender, explicarse, la fracción del globo que le ha tocado en suerte habitar —aunque esta convicción no le exima de una inmensa curiosidad por ver lo que ocurre más allá de la línea de sus horizontes." ~

----

"I am increasingly convinced that a single lifetime is not enough to learn, understand, explain the fraction of the globe that destiny assigns a man to inhabit -although that conviction does not absolve him of an immense curiosity to see everything beyond the limits of his own horizons." ~

~Alejo Carpentier

(Translated by Tanya Huntington and Lois Parkinson Zamora)

"Dig me up from what is covering the better part of me." ~

2010-09-04T10:24:00.005-04:00

I can blame the summer (its heat, the overall summer activities, vacation mode), but the reality is I hadn't finished a book in the longest time. Since the beginning of July I had been tackling Snow Crash, which I should finish but keep ignoring for the moment. At one point I just didn't want to do any reading, which should be worrisome since that's what I basically do. Once I realized that school was almost back in session and my eyes were used to watching stuff instead of actually reading, I knew that I had to get my act together. And I thought: what better way to get into the habit of reading than by getting a few mainstream bestsellers (preferably chick lit)? When I saw the trailer for Eat, Pray, Love, I knew that was exactly what I wanted. A first-person narrative about a woman finding herself after a troubling time and ultimately finding love. Guilty pleasure at its best. Little did I know that this guilty pleasure would actually teach me a thing or two, and actually made me reflect on those three words in the title.

Then I decided that the three women of the house should go and see the movie together. Boy was that a memorable experience. Halfway through the movie the power went out. Twice. In between the awkward pause the people in the movie theater laughed, joked and even reflected about out surroundings. One lady even yelled, "I guess life really doesn't want one person here to see the movie." All of the comments seemed to go along those lines of self-reflection and life curiosities, which I couldn't help but smile at, considering that was exactly what the book had done to me while I read it. In the end those of us who shared that intimacy rarely brought inside a movie theater left with a smile or two, and an experience that can never be repeated (just as every moment in life isn't repeated either). Which reminds me, here are the pick of quotes from the book that just furthers that head-trip of a thought-line:

"You are, after all, what you think. Your emotions are the slaves to your thoughts, and you are the slave to your emotions."

"The other problem with all this swinging through the vines of thought is that you are never where you are. You are always digging in the past or poking at the future, but rarely do you rest in this moment. It's something like the habit of my dear friend Susan, who-whenever she sees a beautiful place - exclaims in near panic, 'It's so beautiful here! I want to come back here someday!' and it takes all of my persuasive powers to try and convince her that she is already here."

"People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that's holding you back, the person who bring you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with your soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it."

"They think this pretty little girl will make them happy, make their lives easy. But whenever I see it happen, I always want to say the same thing. Good luck. Because you still have a woman in front of you my friend. And you are still a man. It's still two human beings trying to get along, so it's going to become complicated. And love is always complicated. But still humans must try to love each other, darling. We must get our hearts broken sometimes. This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something."

"To lose balance sometimes for love is part of living a balanced life."

~Incubus "Dig"

"Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father, run for your children, for your sisters and brothers." ~

2010-08-24T16:57:00.004-04:00

Sunday night I found myself in the motherload of chinchorros. It was such a chinchorro that women were drinking medallas with straws, the singer of the live band was singing along karaoke style and I have never felt more beautiful in my life. But just how did I end up there exactly? Easy. Blame it on the Golden Girls. After a ‘pool’ party that was drowned upon due to rain reached its end (because of alcohol running out mind you), the wild Perez sisters needed to continue partying. And what better place to go than to the chinchorro in front of the party house’s neighborhood. They sold the idea along to the younger cousins, which is how I ended up tagging along as well.

Please try and imagine this picture. About twelve tall beings with different age assortments, all wearing pool party outfits going into a place where the classiest of the bunch looked like a character out of Breaking Bad (my latest TV series so bear with me and the bad analogy) walk into this bar. We were of course the outsiders. But, like the Golden Girls cared. There was music and a bar and men their age so what more could they ask for? There was only one hesitant face among them when they came in, but because they were all riding along together she had no choice but to bear a smile and grin. She apparently got over it quickly since she offered to buy one of the many rounds of medallas (sans-straw) of the night.

What followed was one of the most memorable nights of my life, to say the least. How else could I put into words the fact that I was seeing my grandmother along with her sisters and one of their brothers, drinking and dancing in a place that they so truly did not belong. As they enjoyed the rhythm of bachata and merengue, us younger members of the family sat down and enjoyed the show. We noticed how the only Golden Boy put a frown as he looked around to find a suitable mate to dance with, because as he explained to my cousin, “They are all old and the pretty ones never dance with you.” Says the man who is reaching eighty and looks like an older and even uglier version of Danny Trejo.

The most memorable moment of the night was of course brought along by my favorite Golden Girl, my grandmother. With her beautiful tight white pants she bent over to fix her shoes after an exhausting dance number, only to give the show to a very happy man with no teeth. When I tried to cover her by moving behind her I was ordered to move by my own family so that the guy could remain happy. The best part? She never even noticed it all happened.

Have I mentioned that I love my family?

~Florence and the Machine "Dog Days Are Over"

Welcome home dove.

2010-08-04T18:25:00.005-04:00

She's been gone for six months. The longest either one has been apart from everything that constitutes our reality. The longest we've been apart from each other. A test run for whenever either one of us decides to set sail and leave. Every time I was greeted by someone who knew her they would quickly ask how she was, and ask the follow up, "So how are you doing without her?" or "Do you miss her terribly?" My transparent face would sincerely reply something along the lines of: "It's not like I died when she left" or "No, not really". This would shock everyone. They would joke about what an awful sister I was and how they were going to tell her about my reaction (they always did, much to my amusement).

I just wasn't one to dwell on the fact that she wasn't around but rather that she was having the experience of a lifetime. Curiously, now that she's almost here is when I've missed her the most. It's when I've realized how many things have happened in these past months and how many things we've both missed out of each other's lives. Sure, we'll be talking for days now, realizing the futility of all the emails, chats, skype dates and other technological marvels that have helped us stay in touch. But the fact that this chunk of our lives is purely our own, to me, makes it that much more memorable and important.

Ain't that the truth.

2010-08-01T22:34:00.002-04:00

From the never-will-I-understand-nor-accept-its-cancellation Freaks and Geeks:

Sam: Will girls ever like us?

Neal: I think our best play is to go for the smart, sexy librarian type.

"You used to listen to my music, I always wondered why." ~

2010-07-27T17:37:00.003-04:00

Three Summers.

one after the other

with bodies that aren't the same

memories that overlap

the person who sways

each has taken

a different piece

a different version

Individual. pieces.

all of them, came out of

summer living and breathing

ours, yours, mine

combining into one

the dates repeat

the moments intertwine

the numbers reveal

three summers, three years

~The Dodos "Winter"

The facts were these:

2010-07-25T22:20:00.003-04:00

From the lovely, awesomely quirky Pushing Daisies:

Chuck: But why, why do we love something if loving something just makes us stupid and just have more to lose?

Ned: Why love something? Because we can.

***

Narrator: At that very moment time stopped, as it is one to do when present, past, and future collide. When ones existence ceases to be measured in days, hours and minutes, but instead in the immeasurable quantity of life events.

***

Narrator: At that moment in the town of Coeur de Coeur, events occurred that are not, were not, and should never be considered an ending, for endings, as it is known, are where we begin.

Chanson de l'été

2010-07-17T14:25:00.004-04:00

"Je ne sais pas" ~Joyce Jonathan

Il y a des mots qui me gênent,

des centaines de mots des milliers de rengaines

qui ne sont jamais les mêmes
Comment te dire?

Je veux pas te mentir, tu m'attires
Et c'est là que se trouve le vrai fond du problème
Ton orgueil, tes caprices, tes baisers, des délices
Tes désirs, des supplices, je vois vraiment pas où ça nous mène

Alors on se raisonne, c'est pas la fin de notre monde
Et à tort, on se questionne encore une dernière fois

Je ne sais pas comment te dire
J'aurais peur de tout foutre en l'air
De tout détruire
Un tas d'idées à mettre au clair
Depuis longtemps
Mais j'ai toujours laissé derrière
Mes sentiments

Parfois je me dis que j'ai tort de rester si passive

Mais d'où tu me regardes, moi je te dévore
Mais c'est parfois trop dur de discerner l'amour
Mon ami, mon amant, mon amour, et bien plus encore

Alors on se raisonne, c'est pas la fin de notre monde
Et à tort, on se questionne encore une dernière fois

Je ne sais pas comment te dire
J'aurais peur de tout foutre en l'air
De tout détruire
Un tas d'idées à mettre au clair
Depuis longtemps
Mais j'ai toujours laissé derrière
Mes sentiments

Je te veux toi avec défauts
Et tes problèmes de fabrications
Je te veux toi, j'veux pas un faux
Pas de contrefaçons
J'vais pas te rendre pour prendre un autre
J'vais pas te vendre pour une ou deux fautes
Je veux tes mots, je veux ta peau,
C'est jamais trop

Je te veux plus, changé d'avis
J'ai vu un autre un peu plus joli
Je ne veux pas, je ne veux plus
Jamais voulu
Et puis t'es qui j'te connais pas
T'as dû rêver ce n'était pas moi
Mes confusions, tu les connais
Laissons tomber

Comment te dire
J'aurais peur de tout foutre en l'air
De tout détruire

Un tas d'idées à mettre au clair
Depuis longtemps
Mais j'ai toujours laissé derrière
Mes sentiments

Je ne sais pas comment te dire
J'aurais peur de tout foutre en l'air
De tout détruire
Un tas d'idées à mettre au clair
Depuis longtemps
Mais j'ai toujours laissé derrière
Mes sentiments...

More quoting, less producing.

2010-06-29T21:17:00.003-04:00

~From Michael Cunningham's The Hours:

"Some have ended their relations with him rather than continue as figures in the epic poem he is always composing in his head, the story of his life and passions; but others (Clarissa among them) enjoy the sense of hyperbole he brings to their lives, have come even to depend on it, the way they depend on coffee to wake them up in the mornings and a drink or two to send them off at night." ~

"One always has a better book in one's mind than one can manage to get on paper." ~

"Venture too far for love, she tells herself, and you renounce citizenship in the country you've made for yourself. You end up just sailing from port to port." ~

"There is still that singular perfection, and it's perfect in part because it seemed, at the time, so clearly to promise more. Now she knows: That was the moment, right then. There has been no other." ~

"There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more." ~

Bookworming.

2010-06-25T18:24:00.002-04:00

From Marcel Proust's Swann's Way:

"Even the very simple act that we call "seeing a person we know" is in part an intellectual one. We fill the physical appearance of the individual we see with all the notions we have about him, and of the total picture of that we form for ourselves, these notions certainly occupy the greater part."

"And once the novelist has put us in that state, in which, as in all purely internal states, every emotion is multiplied tenfold, in which his book will disturb us as might a dream but a dream more lucid than those we have while sleeping and whose memory will last longer, then see how he provokes in us within one hour all possible happinesses and all possible unhappinesses just a few of which we would spend years of our lives coming to know and the most intense of which they occur prevents us from perceiving them (thus our heart changes, in life, and it is the worst pain; but we know it only through reading, through out imagination: in reality it changes, as certain natural phenomena occur, slowly enough so that, if we are able to observe successively each of its different states, in return we are spared the actual sensation of change)."

"Because the author had chosen them, because of the faith with which my mind went to meet his word as though it were a revelation, they seem to be -an impression hardly ever given me by the countryside in which I happened to be, and especially by our garden, the unmagical product of the perfectly correct conception of the gardener so despised by my grandmother- an actual part of Nature itself, worthy to be studied and explored."

"Physical love, so unfairly disparaged, compels people to manifest the very smallest particles they possess of goodness, of self-abnegation, so much so that these particles glow even in the eyes of those immediately surrounding them. Then, too, he belonged to that category of intelligent men who have lived idle lives and who seek a consolation and perhaps an excuse in the idea that this idleness offers their intelligence objects just as worthy of interest as art or scholarship could offer, that "Life" contains situations more interesting, more novelistic than any novel."

"Other people usually leave us so indifferent that when we have invested in one of them such possibilities of causing us pain and joy, that person seems to belong to another universe, is surrounded by poetry, turns our life into a sort of expanse of emotion in which that person will be more or less close to us."

"The places we have known do not belong solely to the world of space in which we situate them for our greater convenience. They were only a thin slice among continuous impressions which formed our life at that time; the memory of a certain image is but regret for a certain moment; and houses, roads, avenues are as fleeting, alas, as the years."

Golden Girls + Facebook = Gossip²

2010-06-21T19:58:00.003-04:00

The Golden Girls have discovered facebook. Which of the cousins is to blame for this atrocity is unknown, but I do hope they're having trouble sleeping at night. Not all of them have an account, but the majority do, and the one that doesn't looks over the other's shoulder at the computer screen. They discovered that they no longer need to talk to each other to find out the latest happenings of their offspring's lives: they can just look at statuses. They no longer have the ability to deny facts when it benefits their particular family branch: there are pictures to prove it. They no longer need to think of what to gossip about: facebook provides it for them.

Needless to say, my privacy settings concerning these people are pretty high right about now. Because, as we all know, you are the one that decides what goes up and gets shown on everyone's newsfeed. Apparently my family members haven't gotten the hint that the Golden Girls wouldn't have gossip-worthy material if they didn't post every single thing they did during the day, afternoon and evening (and after partying). Now there's even the gossip that comes out of misunderstandings due to their technologically challenged selves. To me, the saddest part out of all this is hearing them think in statuses that they'll put up or that they think others should put up, not to mention the endless comments that come with taking pictures. Family parties will suck from now on.

"Cause you are the light by which I travel into this and that. You are the light."' ~

2010-06-16T23:12:00.007-04:00

Today I walked the halls of my university. I never made it to my original destination. Instead, I walked around with a friend and talked. There was rain accompanying us, the tiny umbrella I had didn't prevent us from getting wet. The humidity tagged along as well. It was empty, for the most part. A few students here and there were walking around, the ones that have actually been there for the ride, the ones that I take my hat off to. But again, all I could feel was the emptiness. The halls where I run into people (and/or avoid them), the places where the food stands are placed, and even some of the camp sites were empty. That 'thing' that makes the iupi the iupi, wasn't there. And that's when it hits you. The iupi isn't the place, it isn't the halls nor the classrooms, it isn't even the people. It's all of it combined and more. It's what my fellow students have been fighting for since the beginning, and it's what we hope future generations get to experience. Some may say it's too soon to be claiming victory, but even so, a great stepping stone has been taken. Once again, it's inevitable not to say: ¡Qué vivan los estudiantes!

~Jens Lekman "You Are The Light"

As said by Sterling in Mad Men:

2010-06-14T23:48:00.002-04:00

"Don't you love the chase? Sometimes it doesn't work out, those are the stakes. But when it does work out...it's like having that first cigarette. Head gets all dizzy, your heart pounds, knees go weak. Remember that?

Old business is just old business."

"How many times can I break till I shatter?" ~

2010-06-09T23:11:00.005-04:00

Something broke today. I don't know what it was or where it came from, but nevertheless it was there. Broken. Shattered into a million pieces. I couldn't pick them all up. It's funny how I never noticed it was there until today, when it was already a little too late.

~O.A.R. "Shattered"

My favorite BSG quote, from an unlikely source.

2010-06-07T13:55:00.002-04:00

Ellen Tigh: Talk to her. Tell her you love her. It's what she needs. It's what the baby needs.

Colonel Saul Tigh: Caprica, listen. I love you. All right? Can you hear me?

[to Ellen]

Colonel Saul Tigh: This is nonsense.

Ellen Tigh: Saul...

Colonel Saul Tigh: She knows it! I don't need to say it. I shouldn't need to say it to anyone. Isn't it enough that I feel it?

Ellen Tigh: Just tell her...

Colonel Saul Tigh: I feel it! For her. For you. For Liam. Shouldn't need to spout the words; I feel it less with words. Just let me Gods-damn feel it and I'll fill the frakkin' room.

To those who read this, thanks.

2010-05-31T12:27:00.005-04:00

Five years ago, this blog was started. I remember being bored, feeling like it could be a fun way of getting thoughts down (and people reading them). As to why anyone actually read it (or reads it) beats the hell out of me. There are posts I regret. There are posts I still laugh at. There are those that have made me infamous in the family, and there are posts that have made some of them not too happy. Some were of other times, some just for me. Some years I wrote a lot. Some years I didn't. There are typos, stupidities, songs, quotes, bad poetry, stuff I'd forgotten, stuff I'd like to forget, moments I never will, true stories, fictional ones, and above all moments that describe my growing up (as well as my fare share of dumbing down).

A while ago I decided I wouldn't delete any of these, even though there are my fare share of deletable posts. There never was a purpose behind this blog, and I don't think there ever will be. In a way it's a collage of who I am, who I was and who I will be, all summarized in that title I gave it, stolen from a writer (no worries, she knows) whose three words rang a bell with me so long ago.

Because it's my favorite and he played it.

2010-05-30T22:52:00.003-04:00

"Quién fuera" de Silvio Rodríguez

Estoy buscando una palabra
en el umbral de tu misterio.
¿Quién fuera Alí Ba-ba?
¿Quién fuera el mítico Simbad?
¿Quién fuera un poderoso sortilegio?
¿Quién fuera encantador?

Estoy buscando una escafandra,
al pie del mar de los delirios.
¿Quién fuera Jacques Custeau?
¿Quién fuera Nemo el capitán?
¿Quién fuera el batiscafo de tu abismo?
¿Quién fuera explorador?

Corazón obscuro,
corazón con muros
corazón que se esconde,
corazón que está donde,
corazón en fuga,
herido de dudas de amor.

Estoy buscando melodía
para tener como llamarte
¿Quién fuera ruiseñor?
¿Quién fuera Lennon y McCartney,
Sindo Garay, Violeta, Chico Buarque?
¿Quién fuera tu trovador?

Corazón obscuro,
corazón con muros
corazón que se esconde,
corazón que está donde,
corazón en fuga,
herido de dudas de amor.

Firenze, oh how I remember you fondly.

2010-05-26T19:54:00.005-04:00

After a long day that is not even close to being over with, it's comforting for me to write something here. Since my mind is on shutdown mode, none of it will come from me, even though I am very tempted to post a few lines I wrote this morning just for the hell of it. (But even my tired mind knows that's a no-no.) Instead, I share another quote, one that I hope inspires me the next time I sit down in front of this screen. From Rushdie's The Enchantress of Florence:

"All men needed to hear their stories told. He was a man, but if he died without telling the story he would be something less than that, an albino cockroach, a louse."

"Cool babies and soft operations. Holding my hand, throwing coins in my cup."

2010-05-11T17:22:00.005-04:00

I eventually became

that which you hoped for

If only you had let that be

the natural process it was supposed to

I may not have gotten here

that is a probability

If that was bound to happen

the world may never know

I am that girl now

that is the irony of life

If only that meant something

the fact is, it doesn't

~The Bird and The Bee "I Hate Camera"

because it's been a while since i post a song here.

2010-05-03T22:04:00.005-04:00

Even though I can't find neither a video nor the complete lyrics for the version I have of this song, I still love it and wish to share it.

"Atoms" by Emmy the Great

I know you're going soon
It's ok, I won't freak
Can see it in your eyes, you've been moving out for weeks
You've found a girl, she's so much prettier than me
She's much cleverer than me
She's so much happier than me

You want a lover who takes time over her looks
Not some stupid kid who's always wrapped up in her books
But can I help it if a sentence makes me cry?
And the pavement makes me cry
And the thought of you and I

Oh, just leave
There's nothing much I want to say
But close the door
You know how the atmosphere decays my bones
I feel the atoms on my skin
Oh, I feel the matter closing in

From my perch I see the universe as one
See the planets in their glory, slowly dancing with the sun
See my ancestors in monkey costumes fucking on the rocks
See the priestess and her brother and the farmer and his crops

All these sacred histories have led to this one day
When you face me on the stairs and say you have to go away
And time stops like ice where all around it once was hot
So don't begrudge a girl her books cause they're all a girl has got

They sit there now
The words unflinching in their strength
You see I only ever read
Cause I wish I was brave as them
And I know these words will never leave me standing on the stairs
Just like my frozen ancestors they always will be there
In print, just like your image on my heart
Forever like the planets light the dark
Just like our world is waltzing with the sun
Just like when this world explodes it makes another one

Oh you, just leave
I always wanted you to be free
But next time you see the planets try and think of me
And this moment on a stairway where I thought that I could see
All the atoms in your lover, she's much prettier than me
And can I help it if an atom makes me cry?
I can't help it if she's happier than I

"I'm here because I'm here because I'm here because I'm here." ~

2010-05-01T11:54:00.004-04:00

"Everything in their whole bloody world is a cliché. Everything is born out of a cliché, rests on a cliché, survives by a cliché. And they believe in the clichés - there's no hope." ~

"He says: 'Have you ever felt like this - as if you can't bear any more, as if you must speak to someone, as if you must tell someone everything or otherwise you'll die?'." ~

"Life is curious when it is reduced to its essentials." ~

"Well, there you are. It's not that these things happen or even that one survives them, but what makes life strange is that they are forgotten. Even the one moment that you thought was your eternity fades out and is forgotten and dies. This is what makes life so droll - the way you forget, and every day is a new day, and there's no hope for everybody, hooray...." ~

"How on earth can you say why you love people? You might as well say you know where the lightning is going to strike." ~

~Jean Rhys Good Morning, Midnight

¡Qué vivan los estudiantes!

2010-04-28T23:10:00.004-04:00

Today was a wonderful day. I’m tired; the heat has wonderful ways of taking energy from you. But, I can’t complain too much about the tiredness, after all, I haven’t been camping at the university to deserve to do so. I’ve never been one to write with a political agenda, nor any kind of informative persuasion. I tend to go on the egotistical side; the title of this blog is a big hint of that. Yet, there are moments when one realizes that there is no way to negate that political or not, one is immersed in society and one cannot separate himself/herself from it.

It seems that every time I’m a freshman at the UPR, a strike comes along the second semester. I don’t think I’ll be around to prove or negate that theory on the doctoral level, but so far in my bachelors’ and masters’ first year, this has been the case. Both times I stayed at home, and unlike most of my schoolmates, I did homework. The first time around it wasn’t like I had that much to do to cover a month’s worth of work, but this time I’ve found it useful for getting ahead with final papers. Again, I can be a bit egotistical.

Both times I’ve been in favor of the strike, but you never see me heading out to the gates. I know excuses are for those who give them, so I won’t do the public display of these. I know I have them, I know I’ll explain them convincingly, and I know I’ll end up feeling guilty. I think that’s why today I made the effort to go and feel like I’m supporting to the cause, even if only to give myself some ease of mind. I wasn’t really looking forward to seeing any particular artist, not even Calle 13 (which seemed like the only reason people went, if the Houdini act after he finished was any indication–I’ll be upset cause I’m sure that’ll be the highlight of the press coverage, the fact that he didn’t sing). I have seen the ones I like before and in better scenarios and I’ll see them again if I want to.

What I wanted was to make an act of presence, to add one body count into the whole thing. I believe in the power of one, and the addition that this one brings along with it. If I say I’ll go, a few of my friends will go, the bodies add up. Do the opposite and the lateral effect will occur. It’s like with voting, I vote for whom or what I think is the best. I don’t believe in abstaining, not even from a desperate and absurd poll brought on by the administration to try and give voice to the “silent majority”. I know many of those so-called “silent majority”, and believe me, they’re not silent. I know facebook is a bad way of gathering evidence, but let’s face it: it’s what we’ve got. In a generation that tells their “friends” everything and anything, the “silent majority” are using their statuses to give themselves a voice. Will they be the majority? We’ll see how the silent poll does. And it goes without saying how utterly ridiculous and erroneous it is in the first place. Well, maybe it doesn’t go without saying actually.

In the end, I just wanted to declare how proud my university once again makes me. And by university, I mean all those fellow students, professors, workers and anyone else who is giving support to such a cause. They have truly taught the entire island valuable lessons, in so many different ways. I was happy to see that despite the overwhelming odds; the day went by smoothly, adding even more to the helpful ways of this particular strike. I am no optimist, so I will not go into all my wishes for the future, and how all of this will be the grounds for a better tomorrow. However, I will say this: this moment is looking pretty good to me for a “time to change”.

April 28, 2010.

My very own doppelgänger?

2010-04-26T19:06:00.005-04:00

A few weeks after my stupid blab about doubles, now I am truly faced with a weird situation. A while back a cousin of mine had pointed out that I was the only Celibelle on Facebook. I made fun of him by asking him why the hell he was searching for my name, but inside I laughed cause I had already realized it (come on, let's face it, we've all googled ourselves). Sure, there are Celibels and those god-awful Celibeths, but I had never (ever) seen someone with their name written exactly like mine. And growing up in a world where I could never buy a tacky keychain with my name pre-engraved, I thought I was the only one that had to go through the "sell a bell" jokes in English and "célibe" jokes in Spanish. Until now.

I noticed another Celibelle on Facebook a few months ago and due to curiosity I wrote to her this week asking about her name origin. After all the respective storytelling (which I will spare for lameness issues), she asked me where I was from. I only commented on the fact that I currently live in Puerto Rico but at one point lived in Florida. Her reply was that all her family was from Puerto Rico but that she was born and raised in Florida. In the same exact freaking city where I used to live.

To me, this all just seems a little bit weird and creepy. Sure, she's younger than me and I think that besides the name and location similarities, we have nothing in common. Except, I barely have anything in common with the girl I used to be in the States. I've always joked that the other version of me, the one that never left the bubble of that town, would be chonga celi. Now I find myself seeing that (not to be biased or mean to the sweet kid) apparently, there is an actual chonga celi lurking in the real world. And that my friends, is my current uncanny experience.

express yourself

2010-04-24T16:16:00.003-04:00

after you saw him

with her

you smiled.

after he waited

to present her

you left.

after we talked

through the tunnel

you screamed.

after i said

"we sounded like girls in a horror movie"

you laughed.

After a Monday spent with the Spanish Civil War

2010-04-19T19:23:00.001-04:00

"No, please. I don't want to talk about it. Today I want to forget it all: bullets, trenches, politics, killings, betrayals. I want to feel human for a change." ~Blanca in Land and Freedom (1995)

"In the world of emoticons, I was colon capital D." ~

2010-04-18T19:19:00.005-04:00

Today I spent the day alone at "home". That place where I go to sleep. The one I leave while it's still dark, get to when it's dark, feed my dogs and go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. What did I do with my free-of-anyone day? The same thing I do when my mother and her male 'friend' are here. I watched stuff online while periodically doing homework. Less homework and more watching crap today since I don't have the pressure of the previous semester. I'm not sure what's worse, being so busy with schoolwork to have no social life or having no pressure whatsoever and becoming a lazy bum. Sure, I've read a few good books and will write a few papers, thus supposedly adding to my knowledge. But it doesn't feel that way. My brain is taking a break and I don't like where it's heading for vacation. I know I'll regret this next semester when I'll be stuck taking the last courses which I'm sure I will hate, with professors who actually require brain power, coming "home" on the weekends, and inevitably becoming invisible to the social world once again. But for now, I'm going to get ready to go out, drink a few beers and let the mind-numbing continue. Rinse and repeat.

~Sheldon Cooper from "The Big Bang Theory"

"If you could save me, from the ranks of the freaks, who suspect they could never love anyone." ~

2010-04-15T14:32:00.005-04:00

ran into your sister today
Reminded me of a habit long ago
accustomed
But left behind

With my headphones on
maybe a pen and notebook at hand
I listened in
to conversations around me

while the mp3 was in pause

~Aimee Mann "Save Me"

Sheldon Cooper is probably Aspergian.

2010-04-11T20:31:00.008-04:00

Back in the days of my extreme shyness and social awkwardness, I thought that on some level I had a string of autism. The fact that I wanted limited social interactions, was incapable of having normal conversations with people outside my family (and sometimes not even them), and had to have routines in order to function, were odd signs. Not to mention the fact that I had a grasp on Math which was envious to my teachers (they all hate the fact that I'm studying literature of course). Of course later on I realized that was a bit of crazy thinking in my part, because even though I still deal with some of these issues, it's never been at the level I had to while growing up. Besides, I have accepted that most of my social anxieties come from personal issues, such as the culture shock I received when I first moved back here. What I want to get at is that for a couple of months now the topic of Asperger's has come up a lot in the media and I have been keenly observing and noting from it. There's a character in Community which they joke has the syndrome and I watched Adam a couple of weeks ago, among other things. At the same time, I was reading the memoir of Augusten Burroughs' brother, John Elder Robinson, titled Look Me in the Eye. It's an interesting read, getting a first account of what it's like to be Aspergian. At the same time, it was comforting to realize I had no reason to worry, I am perfectly neurotypical (I just had a harder time getting there). Without further ado, some quotes from the book:

"I have what you might call "logical empathy" for people I don't know. That is, I can understand that it's a shame that those people died in the plane crash. And I understand they have families, and they are sad. But I don't have any physical reaction to the news. And there's no reason I should. I don't know them and the news has no effect on my life."

"So we just talked and read and fixed tape recorders and walked into town every day. That was Aspergian dating, circa 1972."

"In my opinion, people should not make statements unless they are prepared to respond to questions about the words they utter. But the world doesn't always work that way."

"I look forward to the day when my handicap will afford me the same respect accorded to a guy in a wheelchair. And if the respect comes with a preferred parking space, I won't turn it down."

"When I was little, grown-ups told me the names for everything and everyone. The hot thing was a stove. The dog was a poodle. The kid was Little Robbie, or Jeff. I had no power over the names, and I didn't like it. Who were they, intruding into my innermost thoughts in that manner?"

"When I wrote Look Me in the Eye, I wanted to show readers what it was like to grow up feeling like a freak or a misfit. I thought my book would show how people with Asperger's are different from everyone else. To my great surprise, my book actually shows the opposite: Deep down, people are very much the same."

Sounds of the evening.

2010-04-06T20:56:00.003-04:00

Leave me as an unshattered image.

"It's like forgetting the words to your favorite song. You can't believe it; you were always singing along."

2010-04-05T19:27:00.005-04:00

[try not to kill me when you read this some day norms.]

As I write this, she sends me pictures of wedding cakes. A couple of days ago, they were pictures of wedding dresses. Before that, location spots for tying the knot and the reception party. I spent Saturday trying on dresses and giving advice on hers. I am the maid of dubious honor, so I shouldn't be backlashing the thing, but I'm in the mood for a rant. But, I will contain myself, for her sake. I am playing the role of supporting best friend, helping her out in the banal crises that will continue until the wedding date. What makes this all rant-worthy is that she, like me, has always vowed against marriage. And here she is, sending me pictures and trying to find many "one"s: the "one" dress, the "one" location, the "one" cake, etc. At least she's conscious that it's all because she has found the (hopefully one) love of her life. I just can't stand the formalism of it all, the traditions, the little details. But, as I have learned (thanks to her), you can never say never. I can say that even when it was just for a costume, wearing a ring on that particular finger felt completely wrong. But I can't say that I will never get married, because life, with its ironic tendencies, will eventually try to prove me wrong. On the plus side of it all, I get to dress up and party one night in July (it's adorable that she gave me a plus-one invite, I love the faith she has in love sometimes). But most importantly, I will be up close and personal when my best friend proclaims her love to a wonderful guy.

[it didn't come out too harsh, so don't think you have any reason to be peeved.]

~Regina Spektor's "Eet"

"But I know now that we were not the people that we turned out to be." ~

2010-04-01T18:40:00.004-04:00

A week or two after actually finishing it, the new batch of quotes, courtesy of D.H. Lawrence and his novel Women in Love.

"I'm sure life is all wrong because it has become much too visual -we can neither hear nor feel nor understand, we can only see. I'm sure that is entirely wrong."

"She listened, making out what he said. She knew, as well as he knew, that words themselves do not convey meaning, that they are but a gesture we make, a dumb show like any other."

"He felt that his mind needed acute stimulation, before he could be physically roused."

"All life, all life resolved itself into this: tick-tack, tick-tack, tick-tack; then the striking of the hour; then the tick-tack, tick-tack, and the twitching of the clock-fingers."

"Anything might come to pass on the morrow. And today was the white, snowy iridescent threshold of all possibility. All possibility -that was the charm to her, the lovely, iridescent, indefinite charm, -pure illusion. All possibility -because death was inevitable, and nothing was possible but death."

~Kate Nash "Merry Happy"

Untitled

2010-04-01T00:46:00.004-04:00

we will always have sigur rós.

whether i stay here

or live a few thousand miles away

the songs will play in parenthesis.

the sounds will mix

blending into fusions of lullabies

accompanying me on airplane rides.

"I've been, I've been silent." ~

2010-03-25T17:50:00.002-04:00

Today during french we had to sign an attendance sheet, when I passed mine to the person sitting behind me, the girl asks me, "Your last name is Falcón?" To which I reply a weak "yes" due to the curiosity as to why she was asking. "Are you related to Yesibel Falcón?" To which I reply a strong "no". She goes on about how not only do we look alike but how she couldn't believe we had the same last name and similar ending first names. I'm used to receiving that type of comment because of my sister (some people have taken months to realize we're related, even though only one letter differentiates our entire name), but it's weird when it's due to other falcons. Yet I believe it isn't the first time someone asks me about that girl, although I'm not sure if that's the way her name is spelled or anything, nor do I care. I ended the conversation on the note that maybe we are related, one way or another. I believe all falcons in Puerto Rico tie up to one another in some weird way. I didn't think much of it afterward. But later on during the day, as I was walking to work, a girl walking right in front of me caught my attention. She was a bit taller than me, with wilder curlier hair (which I didn't think was possible), and about the same body frame. Yet everything else was in contrasts. She was wearing a nice white ruffled shirt, while I had on a black tank top. She had nice dark blue jeans with a belt, while I had my light faded ones. She had expensive looking ballet flats, I had my black converse. She didn't have glasses and I did. I never got a clear look at her face, because even though we both walked into the same building, she was a bit ahead of me. I know she probably wasn't Yesibel, but I couldn't help thinking back on what my classmate said about her looking like me. In the end, all of this has just got me going on the head-trip about doubles today.

~The Dodos "Fools"

shelves

2010-03-24T19:50:00.005-04:00

the lanes are haunted

book dust-jackets dwell

the smell is daunting

our skins lack

the memories left

behind freezing halls

A lovely end to a lovely Monday.

2010-03-15T18:09:00.005-04:00

It seems that lately all I do is quote, but I can't help myself when I'm reading lovely things. These are from E.M. Forster's Howards End

"But the poetry of that kiss, the wonder of it, the magic that there was in life for hours after it--who can describe that? It is so easy for an Englishman to sneer at these chance collisions of human beings. To the insular cynic and the insular moralist they offer an equal opportunity. It is so easy to talk of "passing emotion," and how to forget how vivid the emotion was ere it passed. Our impulse to sneer, to forget, is at root a good one. We recognize that emotion is not enough, and that men and women are personalities capable of sustained relations, not mere opportunities for an electrical discharge. Yet we rate the impulse too highly. We do not admit that by collisions of this trivial sort the doors of heaven may be shaken open."

"Was Mrs. Wilcox one of the unsatisfactory people--there are many of them--who dangle intimacy and then withdraw it? They evoke our interests and affections, and keep the life of the spirit dawdling round them. Then they withdraw. When physical passion is involved, there is a definite name for such behaviour--flirting--and if carried far enough it is punishable by law. But no law--not public opinion even--punishes those who coquette with friendship, though the dull ache that they inflict, the sense of misdirected effort and exhaustion, may be as intolerable. Was she one of these?"

"Looking back on the past six months, Margaret realized the chaotic nature of our daily life, and its difference from the orderly sequence that has been fabricated by historians. Actual life is full of false clues and sign-posts that lead nowhere."

"The more people one knows, the easier it becomes to replace them."

"False Comfort." ~

2010-03-09T20:33:00.003-04:00

"I remember one morning getting up at dawn, there was such a sense of possibility. You know, that feeling? And I remember thinking to myself: So, this is the beginning of happiness. This is where it starts. And of course there will always be more. It never occurred to me it wasn't the beginning. It was happiness. It was the moment. Right then." ~

~Clarissa Vaughn in The Hours

Quoting on a Saturday night.

2010-03-06T21:25:00.005-04:00

From Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf:

"Clarissa had a theory in those days -they had heaps of theories, always theories, as young people have. It was to explain the feeling they had of dissatisfaction; not knowing people; not being known. For how could they know each other? You met every day; then not for six months, or years. It was unsatisfactory, they agreed, how little one knew people."

"He had not said 'I love you'; but he held her hand. Happiness is this, is this, he thought."

"Life was that -humiliation, renunciation."

"'But I do not know,' said Peter Walsh, 'what I feel'."

"And were they happy together? Sally asked (she herself was extremely happy); for, she admitted, she knew nothing about them, only jumped to conclusions, as one does, for what can one know even of the people one lives with every day? she asked. Are we not all prisoners? She had read a wonderful play about a man who scratched on the wall of his cell, and she had felt that was true of life -one scratched on the wall. Despairing of human relationships (people were so difficult), she often went into her garden and got from her flowers a peace which men and women never gave her."

"I looked up and inside down and outside, only to find a double taking punching hard and laughing at my smile." ~

2010-03-03T19:41:00.006-04:00

I was reminded of this by my sister a few weeks ago, not by my own memory, which is failing me more and more lately. I thought about writing it then, but of course I forgot. Then today during class a comment about Paris brought it back to my mind, so here we are. It's a stupid memory really, well not really stupid but I just want to make sure I get it down before I forget it once again.

On my first day in Paris, the tour bus strolled into the tiny streets, almost unable to fit through them in my opinion. Before letting us get down to run around the city by ourselves, we received a general city tour from inside the bus (so we could see things ahead of time and prevent any "getting lost" liability from their part). From the inside of the bus we saw the Sienne, Notre Dame and the Louvre. As we were going through the streets our tour guide would give us fun and interesting historical facts, like how the police in France wear designer uniforms. When we were going through one particular street, she started saying how some big important French guy lived in the building to our left. Then she added the fact that you could even see his old teddy bear from one of the windows and asked us if anyone could see it. We all searched high and low through all the visible windows, but no teddy bear was to be found. Then she goes, "Well, since you guys can't seem to see it, why don't you look over to your right to see if you can see something else that's interesting." When I move my face towards the right, it's there, the Eiffel Tower in all it's splendid glory. I wish there were words to describe how it felt, how the wind was sucked out of me, how it shocked me more than anything in the world. I am grateful for Liz presenting it to us that way, it will be one of the nicest memories I have in the world (if I don't forget it that is).

And that my friends, is how I saw the Eiffel Tower for the first time. The story of the second time I saw it? All I can say is that it was memorable, but it's a fuzzy memory, champagne and singing enhanced.

~Adele "Tired"

"Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade." ~

2010-02-20T20:14:00.005-04:00

the breathing still haunts me

the one with spasms in between

there's a fire set to the third bar

i never understood what the song meant by that

it rains here, almost a pour

this house isn't big enough for both

where's the tiny apartment now

the one with the overpriced furniture

the bookshelf collects dust

the memories rust inside the pages

drops of water are being collected

through leaves and skin and bone

Quotes on a Friday morning.

2010-02-12T08:31:00.004-04:00

~From Carol Shields' The Stone Diaries:

"The recounting of life is a cheat, of course; I admit the truth of this; even our own stories are obscenely distorted; it is a wonder really that we keep faith with the simple container of our existence." ~

"How does a poet know when a poem is ended? Because it lies flat, taut; nothing can be added or subtracted." ~

"How does a woman know when a marriage is over? Because of the way her life suddenly shears off in just two directions: past and future. Ask Clarentine Flett." ~

"These kind of confessions, these points of honor, are almost always comic when viewed up close -and equally comic when viewed from a distance. All that unnecessary humiliation and preening honesty. And afterward, regret. Was any of it really necessary? Of course not." ~

"Moving right along, and along, and along. The way she's done all her life. Numbly. Without thinking." ~

"And the question arises: what is the story of a life? A chronicle of fact or a skillfully wrought impression? The bringing together of what she fears? Or the adding up of what has been off-handedly revealed, those tiny allotted increments of knowledge? She needs a quiet place in which to think about this immensity. And she needs someone-anyone-to listen." ~

"And all the styrofoam began to melt away. We tried to find some worms to aid in the decay." ~

2010-02-07T18:26:00.005-04:00

I like to draw on styrofoam cups. It was a habit I picked up, during my morning routine. I would buy a coffee (of course served in one aforementioned styrofoam variety, not the paper kind) and sit down with a pen and notebook. One day I found myself, when I was done with the coffee, but not with the writing, picking up my Pilot Precise V5 Rolling Ball pen and drawing on top of the whiteness. I'm no artist, so doodles of flowers and eyes would cover my new canvas. As time progressed, I would fixate more on the drawings and less on my writing. I became obsessed with covering the white. I started to bring sharpies along with my notebook and pen, adding color onto the black and white. Some mornings my creations were so lovely to me, I just couldn't bear to throw them away. Instead, I would go into the nearest bathroom, wash the coffee from the inside of the cup (meanwhile avoiding to get the ink smeared on the outside), dry it and put it in my purse. As of now I have 24 styrofoam cups on top of my cupboard. All beautiful, all just there.

~Regina Spektor "On the Radio"

"I'm miles from where you are. I lay down on the cold ground I. I pray that something picks me up and sets me down in your warm arms." ~

2010-01-25T12:52:00.003-04:00

As we were avoiding boredom at work, deciding upon new desktop pictures became the funnest way to pass the time. Yes, I realize how utterly pathetically bored we were thank you very much. Before our new findings, we had a mysterious gnome (which no one took the blame of putting there in the first place), the university's tower, and the color blue. Two coworkers and I each took a computer and began searching for more appropriate images. Some were denied for being too bland, others for being too bold (and/or looking like female genitalia). But the highlight of our time-wasting came when the coworker (originally from the U.S.) picked a view of the beach as hers while my other coworker (originally from Puerto Rico coworker) decided upon an autumn falling of leaves as his. It was then that she exclaims something like, "See this is what proves that everyone wishes for what they don't have, I chose the beach because I don't have it back home and seeing it relaxes me. Meanwhile here this guy goes and chooses a seasonal event you guys never have, which he probably finds pretty because of that fact." Ah, the humanity of it all.

~Snow Patrol "Set The Fire To The Third Bar"

"Let's waste time, chasing cars, around our heads." ~*

2010-01-12T18:29:00.006-04:00

I leaned over her shoulders as she looked at the computer screen. "How about Madeline?" she asked with a tone of already low expectations. I rubbed her soft skin as I gave her the "no" she knew was coming. "Why don't you come up with one then?" she dared me with her green eyes. I breathed in, touching the stubble on my chin and came up with the best baby name. "Amelia if it's a girl, and Anthony if it's a boy." She looked at me with a sullen expression. "Anthony? Seriously Jake we're supposed to try and be original. And although Amelia isn't too original per se, I kind of like it, so I give you brownie points for that one. But seriously, Anthony? Come on, you can do better than that." We both stayed quiet for a while, with the fan of the old laptop humming in the background.

I've always been a sucker for conventional names, for instance if it was up to me, I would name our boy Michael. I love the simplicity of the letters, and my favorite version is the one with the A before the E, which I decided I liked better by the time I was ten. Andrea didn't like anything conventional and I knew our children would have to suffer eventually because of it. I didn't mind it though, just as long as they weren't going to end up being called Apple or Bronx Mowgli, like those celebrity kids. If it was up to me I would let her come up with the names. Not that she wanted the decision to rely solely on her, which is why we would end up having this completely speculative conversation routinely. If only we could come up with something that was worthy of following a person around for the rest of their life. "I got it!" She looked at me with hope. "Dante," I said proudly. "Are you crazy? The kid's life won't stand a chance to live up to a name like that." It was then that I knew this was going to be another long, long night.

~Snow Patrol "Chasing Cars"

*Based on the following Post-secret:

"Me and my guitar ponder the significance of yellow snow. We talk about the movies and who’s been on the news." ~

2010-01-02T22:20:00.005-04:00

First post of the year. Not that this will be important or insightful or anything of the sort because of it. I'm just doing this on a whim, because I felt the rambling going on in my head and I prefer to let it out than let it swim through the mind. I just watched Marley and Me, which a friend lend it to me a million years ago, but because of my knowledge of it being sad I kept postponing to watch. A couple of hours ago I found myself wanting to watch a movie and unsatisfied with all of the choices in my dvd rack. I have lots of movies that I really like, which is why I bought them, but I have seen them too many times so it isn't worth it any more for me. Then I found the Marley one, thought what the heck and popped it in the dvd. It was interrupted a half-hour later when my mother got home and wanted to go to Costco. I tagged along in hopes of buying more dvds. But instead, I bought books. Four books and almost forty dollars later, I am one happy girl. Like my dvds, my book collection wasn't bringing any inspiration since school was over. I feel awful that I've only read like two books since classes stopped. I was supposed to be reading stuff I liked. And apparently I will begin the year doing just that. They better be as good as they promise. When I got home, I should have begun one of them but instead I chose to finish what I started. An hour a half later, waterworks flowing, and although I think it was a lovely little movie, I'm not sure if that was my brightest idea. Oh well, at least I think I love my dogs a little more now, they are saints compared to that beast (well, Mel is, Luke is Marley in a smaller package). Additionally, the idea of being a columnist is now in my mind, even if only for tonight. I think I will go crack a book spine now, my only problem is, which of the four to choose.

~Emmy the Great "My Guitar"

My dream with Robert Pattinson.

2009-12-30T19:14:00.002-04:00

Last night, for some godforsaken reason, I dreamt with Robert Pattinson. What bewilders me is the fact that I actually remembered the dream, because I never do. I remembered it about ten hours later, when I saw him as I flipped through my latest EW and saw his picture. At that moment I had a flash (á la Chuck) and all the images came back to me. But before I continue, I must state the following: I am not one of these crazy Robert fans. Sure, the guy is pretty, too pretty in fact, but never have I gone to fantasize about him. I haven't even seen New Moon for goodness' sake. With that being said, the dream was simple enough. I was in isla verde, at the usual spot where we go to the beach. He is introduced to me by the people I was with and we end up hanging out during the night. The entire time I can't help but think he's even prettier in person. Me, being me, doesn't even think about hooking up, since it would make me just another groupie. He finds this odd and endearing, which makes him reveal the following: he's gay. He then goes on to confess his huge love for his co-star, not the one he is romantically linked with but the werewolf. I remember trying to keep a straight face the entire time, but also feeling sorry for the guy. The woken up version of me thinks that this is hilarious, and were it to be true, I feel so sorry for millions of little girls and tweens worldwide.

"Good times for a change." ~

2009-12-30T03:06:00.004-04:00

She's in my house. It's three in the morning. I drove up to my house to find her, my mother and brother hanging out in the family room. They're having an impromptu parranda. I honestly don't know how long it's been since she used to hang out here on a frequent basis. I do know it's been only a week since this can happen again. I just find it comforting that with time, things seem to fix themselves, things change. And with that comfort I will go to sleep now.

~The Smiths "Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want"

"Nobody likes you when you're 23 and you still act like you're in Freshman year." ~

2009-12-27T20:17:00.004-04:00

If my calculations are right (although I don't feel like double checking through my own diaries), I read my first Princess Diaries novel when I was in tenth grade. That means I was what, fifteen or sixteen years old? I just finished the ninth Princess Diaries novel, there are ten in all. Yes, I am twenty-three years old, first year in my M.A. and for the past two hours have deliciously devoured a teen-chick-lit novel. It was my first Meg Cabot series, and it is the one I have yet to finish. Once I do (once I actually receive it in the mail to be able to do so), it will be as if a chapter of my life were to close. Yes, I realize how sadly pathetic that is, but I grew up with these novels. They were the first diary-like entry type novel I read. The protagonist in the movie was Anne Hathaway, she had frizzy hair and glasses, not to mention the retainer. The protagonist in the novels is five-feet and ten inches tall, spends countless of hours writing in her journal and falls in love with the geek. How could I not identify with Mia? Put her and Jessica Darling in a blender, and it's the story of my life. In a way, I like to think of it as the story for the novel I have yet to write.

~Blink 182 "What's my age again"

Status Updates Collage

2009-12-22T22:26:00.004-04:00

Since facebook is being a brat, and won't let me post this, it will end up here in the blog. I think it did a nice job of summing up my year nicely.

"Nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change destiny." ~

2009-12-11T18:00:00.000-04:00

As we discuss The Road

The man

Two twin girls roam through the floor

The kid

Identical faces without identical clothes

The fire

They play with colorful lighters

Hope

Because there are no other toys

Ritual

They are unable to actually make fire

Sacred

But are able to put them in their mouths

Future

~Avril Lavigne "Keep holding on"

"I feel it all." ~

2009-12-09T10:34:00.000-04:00

As my pregnant coworker rubbed her belly, Abu’s green eyes shimmered behind her glasses. Her pale skin seemed translucent because of the lighting. She looked older yesterday, with her eyes being the only glimpse to her past, demonstrating youth behind them. They talked about how it feels to have something moving around the belly, kicking from time to time. My coworker says Sebastian likes to place himself as low as he can, which she doesn’t like. Abu mentions how when she was pregnant with twins, they would position themselves as high as they could, right below her rib cage. This comment hits a nerve with me; since I am pretty sure she has mentioned how she only has a daughter (who she celebrates Christmas with by inviting her over for lunch, gives her a Macy’s gift card and they each go on with their lives after two hours tops). Her eyes one again shimmer as she states how one of them died within the first year. How she didn’t grieve but rather walked around New York for ten years in a depression bubble, the zombie state associated with the disease. How one lady whom she gave a Spanish class to, invited her to dinner in the New York City Club (some fancy smancy place according to her) and was the one that helped her snap out of it. She never saw her again, but hearing the words “that happened to me too” was enough for her to remember that lady forever. When she finished her story I found myself looking back at her without knowing what to say. I’m pretty sure she saw my eyes shimmer behind my glasses. Later on at night when I found myself with two twin girls playing around the apartment while we had our last class with Accaria, the irony of the day was not lost within me.

~Feist "I Feel It All"

Lyrics for a Saturday.

2009-12-05T20:37:00.000-04:00

A year ago this song meant one thing. Now it means another. It's a common thing though for me, for a song to have many changes in meaning. The lyrics are one thing, hearing it is another. One of the most beautiful songs that exist. Hands down.

"Swans" by Unkle Bob

By my side
You'll never be
By my side
You'll never be

Cause I'm fake at the seams
I'm lost in my dreams
And I
I want you to know that I can't let you go
And you're never coming home again
And you're never coming home again

By my side
You'll never be
By my side
You'll never be
You'll never be

I wanted to tell you I'd changed
I wanted to tell you that things would be different this time
I see you
You see me
Differently
I see you
You see me
Differently

You tell me that you love me but you never want to see me again
You tell me that you love me but you never want to see me again
You tell me that you love me but you never want to see me again

This helped me procrastinate even more.

2009-12-02T17:13:00.001-04:00

Thanks to a facebook friend, I discovered lamebook.

"I want your love and I want your revenge. You and me could write a bad romance." ~

2009-12-01T22:08:00.000-04:00

Last time I wrote here I was the wise one in a conversation concerning younger girls and love. This time I find myself repeating to a certain extent the last post. However, this time it concerns older girls. I prefer to call them girls as opposed to women since let's face it: we never grow up. And that is what I found myself thinking as these almost fifty-year old girls talked about their love life. They still don't understand men, even though they're so simple in my opinion. They still have hope, even though they have been through many disillusions in that department. And the big shocker: They're still looking for the damn love of their life. Meanwhile, me being decades younger, felt just as distanced from these older girls as I had with the younger girls last week. As I heard them, I couldn't help but think that this is what lies ahead for me. Always with the cyclical dilemmas concerning men apparently. Sure, their problems are different, they have adult issues that I haven't gone through yet (and they thankfully didn't bring up any sexual content in the mix), but it's pretty much the same thing. Girl likes guy. Guy doesn't like girl. Guy likes girl. Girl doesn't like guy. Rinse and repeat. Girl and guy like each other. Girl dates guy. Guy does stuff girl doesn't like. Girl fights with guy. They break up. Rinse and repeat. Girl feels lonely without guy. So girl gets new guy to like. Girl likes guy...remember to always rinse and repeat.

~Lady Gaga "Bad Romance" (Again, this time used accordingly to theme)

"Rah rah ah-ah-ah! Ro mah ro-mah-mah Gaga Ooh-la-la! Want your bad romance." ~

2009-11-25T19:29:00.000-04:00

There are times when I compare myself to others and realize I didn't go through certain "normal" rites of passage during my formative years. I didn't do the whole "going out" thing during fifth to seventh grade, no spin the bottle, no dating whatsoever, so kissing whatsoever neither, etc. I'm guessing why today I felt so weird with the girls, much younger than me, yet I was apparently the one with wisdom. I realized, I might not have lived the conventional ways of growing up, but somehow I have gotten to certain conclusions on life. Talking to them made me realize I did grow up. I do have certain knowledge, that although I may have gathered later in life, are there. And if I really think about it, I probably don't regret my experiences being the way they are. They made me who I am and that's something I'm proud of. And if I ever doubt any of this, I can look back on today (a normal, average day, but with honest communication above all else) and gain that little boost. After all, it isn't everyday that one uses footnotes within a conversation.

~Lady Gaga "Bad Romance" (song to commemorate today)

Poetic Intervention

2009-11-11T11:04:00.000-04:00

As I've mentioned here before, I'm no poetry aficionado. But for this week's modernism and post-modernism lit course, I have just read a lot of poetry. Lots of very good poetry. And this following one made me smile.

"What You Should Know to be a Poet" by Gary Snyder

all you can know about animals as persons.
the names of trees and flowers and weeds.
the names of stars and the movements of planets
and the moon.

your own six senses, with a watchful elegant mind.

at least one kind of traditional magic:
divination, astrology, the book of changes, the tarot;

dreams.
the illusory demons and the illusory shining gods;

kiss the ass of the devil and eat shit;
fuck his horny barbed cock,
fuck the hag,
and all the celestial angels
and maidens perfum’d and golden-

& then love the human: wives husbands and friends.

children’s games, comic books, bubble-gum,
the weirdness of television and advertising.

work long, dry hours of dull work swallowed and accepted
and lived with and finally lovd. exhaustion,
hunger, rest.

the wild freedom of the dance, extasy
silent solitary illumination, enstasy

real danger. gambles and the edge of death.

"Two people walking two steps forward, always to the lives they've chosen. Clicks and hums and sirens and the sun." ~

2009-11-06T16:20:00.000-04:00

Today I did a lot of walking. From the usual walking around in the university, to the going to the bus stop, to the getting off the bus and making my way over to the dentist and then finally walking over to my house, yes I feel like I did a lot of walking. I'm sure if I were to add it up I actually did comply with the recommended thirty minutes of exercise of the day, or at least half of it. While I was in university and río piedras territory, walking around didn't seem odd because it is a pretty pedestrian area. Whereas when I arrived to Caguas, I felt as if there was something wrong with me for not having a car. I was the only person walking around the sidewalks. It was only when I got out of the dentist and was walking to my house that I was accompanied by a few others, but only because school had let out and students who lived nearby were going home. The majority of the time I was alone walking in the streets, with a million cars moving all around me and therefore making me feel like they were watching me or something. I couldn't help but remember a classmate's comment, when she said that when people find out she's 25 and doesn't have a car they think something is wrong with her. Then I also remembered another comment a friend of mine once said, "I haven't bought a car because I know that if I do, I will end up living in Puerto Rico forever." Both ring true to me, both I can identify with. And as I was walking and feeling weird for something I shouldn't have, I ended up getting mad at my surroundings. I shouldn't have to feel ashamed that I can't afford a car or that I don't want one. Walking is also a primitive but very good exercise. My feet were made to get me from place to place and I shouldn't have to rely on an automobile just because this area isn't equipped for pedestrians. As I reassured myself that by being abnormal I was being normal, I kept on walking.

~Emmy the Great "Two Steps Forward"

"Pensando. Cada día, cada hora. Pensando en tí." ~ *

2009-10-28T20:10:00.000-04:00

Yota made her way up the stairs of the apartment complex, breathing in the aroma of burnt pizza and beer from the future frat brothers that lived a couple of floors down. Once inside her own apartment, she began to boil some water for tea. Devendra Banhart's "Santa Maria de Feira" was coming from upstairs. She hummed along the tune as she dumped the tea bag and sat down in front of her laptop. As she finished writing her paper, the marathon of music continued. She recognized some songs while others she had never heard of killed her with curiosity. Whoever lived upstairs had great taste in music, and for once, she didn't mind that she was hearing stuff that wasn't her own. Ricky called to let her know that they were going to meet at Mint later, after ten o'clock. Through the picking out clothes, the shower, the makeup, she heard even more songs that she wanted. Then it stopped. Abruptly. After getting dressed and heading out, instead of walking down the stairs, she made her way up. When she stood in front of the same numbered door (only with an extra floor number) she took out a post it pad and a pen. She wrote something down on a yellow sheet and stuck it to the door, then headed out to meet Ricky. Several minutes later John got back to his apartment, with mail in his hands, and as he was putting in the key to open the door, he found the following message:

"Hey it's your neighbor from downstairs, do you mind making me a copy of your music files? I just love everything you play. Thanks, Yota."

*Based on a facebook status.

~Devendra Banhart "Santa Maria de Feira"

"If you go in search of honey, you must expect to encounter bees." ~

2009-10-21T19:09:00.000-04:00

Yesterday as I was in one of my classes, with munchies in front of me not being ignored as the professor spoke, discussing this week's book. I'm a big note-taker, and even though at the graduate level I don't really have to write down everything since I won't be tested on it, I find myself unable to control myself. I still write everything down, or at least, a lot. Mostly I just transcribe the most important things concerning the discussion, for future reference. But yesterday I found myself writing outside of my class notebook, which hadn't happened to me in a long time. When I write outside my class notebook, it's because something moved me at a personal level and I don't want it to get mixed up with the academic mumbo-jumbo. Why I am explaining this here I have no clue, I'm guessing it's been a while since I ramble about nonsensical stuff. Anyway, the point is that the professor asked us why we thought the main character goes through such hardship and pain during his transformation. The answer was simple enough and I had heard it before, but for some reason it affected me in a different way yesterday. It goes something along these lines: the best things in life are never easy, one must go through a struggle in order to obtain them. As much of a cliché and/or self-help book it sounds, it is so true. We are used to getting the so-called instant gratification, but it is the very things that we want that we must fight for. And that goes for everything. Whether it be a degree, a job, a special someone-the good stuff is never easy. Which in turn also makes it understandable why when we do finally have it in our lives, when we finally have it in our hands, it is that much more gratifying, making us deliriously happy.

~Thomas Szasz

"You were a child, crawling on your knees toward it. Making momma so proud, but your voice is too loud." ~

2009-10-20T08:38:00.000-04:00

There were many baby signs in my life for a couple of weeks, a while back. Invitations to baby showers. Dreams with pregnancies (yes, as in plural dreams, plural pregnancies). Baby depots. You name it. I was pretty sure the world was trying to tell me something. For now, I'm guessing I was wrong. But, because of all the baby stuff, I found myself taking notice of something this past weekend. I was eating dinner pretty early, so the day was still light outside. I looked outside the window and saw a bunch of kids from the neighborhood playing in front of my house. There were around four boys and the two twin girls who live in front of my house. All of them were playing, running around, laughing. Overall, having fun. And me, of course being me, couldn't help but feel sad for this moment as opposed to being happy. I couldn't help thinking about the future that lays in store for then. When you're that age, you think life is so wonderful and you live in a nice comfortable bubble (not all kids I know, but most). Then you grow up and realize life is just not what movies made you believe. And you deal with it by chosing one way or another. They don't know this yet. And I wasn't about to go outside to tell them a depressing speech or open their eyes to reality. I'll let life do that to them. Still, I can't help but feel sorry for these kids, and all the many more that keep on coming to this world.

~MGMT "Kids"

"A moment, a love, a dream, a laugh." ~

2009-10-14T19:23:00.000-04:00

How's the weather there?

It's also chilly here

But not of the same kind

The blanket I use doesn't seem to help

Not enough warmth for my taste

Too much rain during the day

All I want to do is sleep

But there are sounds coming from insects

Unknown to your part of the world

They squeak and squirm and annoy

If you were me you'd try and ignore them

But you aren't me.

You are you.

~The Temper Trap "Sweet Disposition"

Para Luis.

2009-10-05T10:35:00.001-04:00

Había una vez una pareja media feliz, media infeliz. Se casaron sin el pretexto de una barriga pero aun así tenían sus problemas. Lo único que los mantenía unidos era su pasión. Note que no he dicho amor, sino pasión. Esa pasión que no se disminuye a pesar de los años (y para ellos eran muchos años, estaban juntos desde la high). O quizás tampoco era pasión sino costumbre. Verdaderamente no sé. Lo que sí sé es que ellos, para aumentar la tensión del hogar ya brindada por dos hijas (y una barriga de camino, quizás por fin el varón), trajeron animales a la casa de campo.

Comenzaron con un perro. Para ser exacto, comenzó el marido al traer un pero doverman una tarde. La trompa de la mujer era evidente. La excusa de él era la protección que traería dicho animal para la familia. La trompa continuaba. Luego, vinieron los animales comprados para ser criados y luego comidos. Unos conejos, pal de gallinas, tres gansos. Espera. Los gansos no eran para comer. De nuevo me disculpo por mi inhabilidad de ser preciso, es difícil narrar cosas conocidas por tercer oído. Los conejos y gallinas eran para comer. Los gansos eran para...No tengo la menor idea para que eran los gansos. No escuché esa parte, mi mente con déficit de atención crónica se puso a pensar en el acto de matar los conejos y cuan rico saben guisados, así
que no tengo esa información.

Lo que sí sé es que todos murieron. Los animales digo, no la familia. Esos todavía andan por ahí, sólo que en la ciudad en vez del campo. Los animales murieron, unos para ser comidos, otros por venganza de los vecinos, pero lo triste es que todos murieron. Y la trompa desapareció.

"Her body spins as she pirouettes again. The world suddenly seems small." ~

2009-10-02T13:48:00.000-04:00

I walk by a room full of mirrors and my immediate reaction is to go in. I look down at my flip flops and jeans and realize the improbability of my dream. Nevertheless, I walk in. I observe the sweatpants and the black form-fitting shoes, wishing they were my own. The bodies stretching and forming silhouettes I once knew but have now forgotten. My body aches when it remembers, when it wishes to do what they do. It longs for the muscles contorting, the warmth of the blood rising and filling up the space, and the heat it produces giving them the sensation of being alive. I pirouette in my mind. My legs finding and moving by themselves, as if they had never lost a moment. It was like picking up a bicycle after so many years. My head is fixed on a spot as I turn and turn, the circles one after the other and I can't stop them from turning. Then the music starts and the beats seem to go in perfect rhythm to my movements.

It wasn't until the instructor walked in and said "Let's begin" that I made myself walk out the door, all the while still spinning in place.

~Bright Eyes "The Movement of a Hand"

Leeps

2009-09-30T20:07:00.000-04:00

Lips bleed

as she smiled

blood trickling

down

falls onto the

Ruled paper

through sheets

of words

"I recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone. I certainly do." ~

2009-09-22T19:28:00.000-04:00

I put myself in the position of the outsider on Sunday. It all started when a clown, her husband and child arrived to a second-cousin's birthday party. As they were setting up, the fact that these people did not know my family crept up to me. The fact that there are strangers who one day have the knowledge of what it's like to be in a Perez party always leads me to analyze them even more. I began to hear what they were hearing, the mix of Spanish and English, the code switching more usual today due to the birthday girl's immediate family. Later I realized the facts about this birthday girl. We were celebrating a one year birthday for a Puerto Rican Australian.

I began to look around and observed the family members who showed up to said party. Or, let me be more exact, the select few who were actually invited in the first place. Mostly, it's middle class families, people in their late thirties and early forties with kids running around. There are too many boys in the next generation. My mini-me (Sofia) is the only girl I see running around with all the boys. I hope this will help her in her teens with the boy situation and not (as it most likely will happen) hurt her in that department.

I kept looking and there's Richard, the German American who married into the family by marrying a Golden Girl a few years ago. He has a nickname for everyone, although I have yet to find out which is mine. My favorites are "The Wild Perez Sisters" a.k.a. The Golden Girls and "Diablo" for Hubi. I used to worry about him getting bored in these parties, but I see that he has adopted our customs very well. He makes fun of people and picks on others just like any other male cousin would do.

Later on I truly felt sorry for the outsider when the clown tried to begin her little show for the kids and she was asking for the adults to quiet down and pay attention. Boy did she have no idea what she was asking of these people. As one of my cousins once said, when the Golden Girls decided on not gossiping as their sacrifice for lent "It's like asking them to give up breathing". It's without any real distractions and they all suffer from A.D.D. during normal conversations, all of them fighting for a word in and fighting because they aren't being heard. Imagine when there's music, alcohol and visiting relatives in the mix. It took the clown some creative ways and energy but she actually managed to get them to pay attention to her and even participate in some games. I felt proud of her. I then realized, as tough and as unique as we may be, there is always room for the outsider with the Perez family. They just have to give them a chance (after we have initiated them with an embarrassing moment or two).

~Alanis Morissette "You Learn"

"You can go out, dancing And I'll write about you, dancing without you." ~

2009-09-11T22:53:00.000-04:00

Stars haunt the sight

Of two people

Walking down the street

Ignoring the fluorescent glare

They stare at the swing-set

And begin to play like kids

Meanwhile, unbeknown to them

The park says hello

Behind towers of uncut grass

~Rufus Wainwright "Between my legs"

"The story is not in the words; it's in the struggle." ~

2009-09-03T19:36:00.000-04:00

Because I had the illusion that I had some free time and that I could do whatever I wanted, for the past two hours I was glued to my bed reading Paul Auster's "The Locked Room" from his New York Trilogy book. As a personal challenge I tried and (surprisingly) succeeded in reading it today. Again, I spent two hours non-stop on it. From the first page it grabbed me and didn't let me go. It has been a long time since that has happened to me, so the feeling was a nice one to re-experience. Not only did I enjoy it, but it brought on a few headtrips to me. The fact that I've finished two Faulkner novels within the past week didn't help, I couldn't help but see some things between all of them, but I won't be posting that here. What I will be posting are some quotes that I liked. Just for the hell of it.

"Stories happen only to those who are able to tell them, someone once said." ~

"No one wants to be part of a fiction, and even less so if that fiction is real." ~

"The point being that, in the end, each life is irreductible to anything other than itself. Which is as much as to say: lives make no sense." ~

"The point is not that Fanshawe becomes the center of attention, but that he manages to fit in, to find a place for himself. The true test, after all, is to be like everyone else. Once that happens, he no longer has to question his singularity. He is free-not only of others, but of himself."~

~Paul Auster's "The Locked Room"

Big Grandmother is Watching

2009-09-02T09:48:00.001-04:00

Big Grandma is watching

She can see it in your eyes

Looking into your mind

She knows exactly what you hide

Big Grandmother is watching

Dictating rules and orders

You hide behind the computer screen

Hoping she doesn't see anything

But Big Grandma is watching

Remember she is all seeing/all knowing

Don't you ever forget it: she is watching

And she is out to get you

Funny, if only to me.

2009-08-26T21:29:00.000-04:00

I just thought it was funny that on the day I see "Double Indemnity", I also see an episode of 30 Rock in which Tracy Jordan delivers the following line (proving once again, how much of an idiot he is):

"You can't sue me, I'm already being sued! Double indemnity!"

"Run from the memory. Je nage, mais les sons me suivent." ~

2009-08-22T17:02:00.000-04:00

I interrupted their conversation. The events that follow are an interpretation of what I overheard later, the summary of their conversation.

He was looking at the trees. They were much bigger now. Surrounded by the porch walls that now existed, they had grown so much in twenty years. He looked over to his granddaughter. “I am part of those trees’ history,” he began, “Your grandmother and I are part of their history.”
She reacted by opening her eyes wide and asking, “Really? How so?”

It was the summer of ’82 and they had left the kids with their aunt. They took their car and drove for hours until the border of Guayanilla and Yauco, to a little restaurant called “La Guardarraya”. Their specialty being chuletas can-can and arroz mampostiao, it was what Mela was craving that day. A few days later the craving made sense when the stick she peed on said positive. She was forty and her youngest daughter was fourteen. But that’s another story.

They ate the restaurant’s specialty. For dessert they had casquitos de guayaba with cheese. When they finished, they decided to take a stroll through the restaurant’s perimeters, to let the food sink in before their trip back to Caguas. That’s when Mela saw the trees. They weren’t beautiful but they had presence. Perhaps it was because there were so many of them conglomerated in one specific spot of the field.

Walking hand in hand they made their way over to them. That’s when he got out the pocket-knife given to him by his son for his birthday. He began carving on the tree as Mela laughed and made sure no one would notice what he was doing. When he finished he went up to her and kissed her lips softly. “Carmen y Ramón” would be the engraving left behind.

“We should look for it grandpa,” his granddaughter suggested. “We won’t be able to find it”, he said, even though the thought was the first thing that came to his mind when he arrived. “These trees tend to shed some of their skin you could say, it’s why they stay so smooth throughout the years”. Her face expressed disappointment as well as understanding. To make her feel better he said how happy he was to just know that many moons ago he had been there, with her. The memory was acting as a comfort, a happy memory more than anything else. This seemed to satisfy her.

As he held her and stared at the trees, he went back in time to another memory. He was fifteen, Mela thirteen. They walked through the fields known to them for what seemed like forever. She stopped before they reached the river and made her way over to the tree that gave them shade in the afternoons. She asked him if he had a pocket-knife. He produced a small one which she took without any thought. Several minutes later, their tree had said “Ramón y Carmen”.

~Arcade Fire "Black Wave/Bad Vibrations"