Es en serio.
I was walking from my fac to metro CU, looking at my cell phone (I was about to phone my brother). Two dearly loved classmates of mine (who I was trying hard to ignore, since we're not on speaking terms. Such a socialité I am.) were walking right ahead of me. I can't even begin to guess how many were walking behind me, but surely about 15 in plain sight. Then, the most wonderful thing happened.
I walked into a pole.
Really, one second I was walking and the next I was stamped into a pole. Claro, it was a small pole, and I kinda didn't hit it head on, but rather on my side. Pero aún así, it was freaking embarrasing, and my left knee hurt for all of the trip home. In fact, it's still a bit sore.
I didn't bother to turn around and see who had been witness to my all-too-common act of stupidity, nor hear any malicious snickers behind me (*sob*). I just muttered a modest and lady-like "pendeja" and kept on going my merry way. Walking faster, obviously. Que, pensándolo bien, no fue lo mejor que pude haber hecho por mi maltratada rodilla.
On to other things:
-Saw 300, liked it quite a bit. What's not to like about hundreds of half-naked, sculpted males waving around big swords?
-Went to the stylist. My hair looks like shit. (Y yo que creí que fui justo para tener el efecto contrario. Pobre ilusa).
- My vacations were also shitty. I was in the service up until half my school vacation, while most of my close friends were away on some secluded beach. (Malditos) Only good thing is my baby bro is visiting.
-Though we haven't had all that many adventures lately, there was an episode in which Ale, Rose and I acted like the mature, grown-up adults we are and began running through the metro, from the back wagons to the front. A true fun-filled afternoon.
O, and that wondrous time when we stood up and exposed a dear classmate with the "tangente" episode by turning it into a spot. I (being the paranoid freak in our loving little group) felt everyone suddenly hated us about two levels more for being so heartless with our poor, lexicon-challenged classmate.
Yet, a couple of days after, Tangente-girl went up to us and chatted, smiled, and actually amicably touched Rosie on the shoulder. We were flabbergasted. Apparently, she didn't notice we very obviously made fun of her in front or a classroom full of people.
Will wonders never cease? Some people are even more stupid than I give them credit for.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Movie rundown, part I.
Hello. Hola. Bonjour. Konnichiwa. Etc...
Lately I've been watching movies as if on a marathon. See a couple or so every week instead of other things, such as: do homework, clean up the house a bit, go to school, make something worthwhile out of myself, etc. Osea, la hueva total.
Tons, here goes a brief list of some of the things I've seen these past couple of weeks. May have some spoilers, but whatever.
-----------------------------------
Hotel Rwanda-
The plot revolves around a luxury hotel in Rwanda, which served as a sort of temporal sanctuary during the mid-90's genocide of the Tutsi people and it's manager's heroic struggle to see all refugees -and his family- to safety.
The movie is well done. Nice and inspirational. Gives the general idea of mass-murder horror without being overly graphic, even giving a "happy end". I specially liked that whole "Hello sir. We're about to be murdered by a bunch of trigger-happy soldiers and machete-wielding rioters, but I just called to thank you for all you've done for me and my family" speech.
However, aside from it's take on such a difficult subject as genocide, it's not a film one can't miss. I also get the feel that the main character is seen on too keen a light. Kind of like Schindler, who later turned out not to be as heroic as portrayed in Shindler's list.
Hard Candy-
A cute and smart fourteen year old girl meets with a thirty something year old photographer she met on a chatroom and convinces him to take her back to his house, something any kid should know better than to do. However, little Hayley is not as naive as she first appears to be and the roles of predator and prey are reversed.
I actually liked this movie a lot. The girl is absolutely psychotic, but in such an intelligent, bitchy, even bad-ass way I just couldn't help but root for her. Go Hayley, unleash your righteous wrath upon that pedophile! Oh, and please do wash your hands after you are finished, if you don't mind. You don't know where that has been.
While the plot is quite nice, in my opinion, but there are a couple of drawbacks, the main three being:
1) The movie takes too long to set the story into motion, so the beginning does drag on for a bit.
2) Some things in the plot are kind of predictable, such as the castration stint.
3) Ellen Page's performance is much stronger than Patrick Wilson's.
The Last King of Scotland:
A young Scottish doctor becomes Uganda's president Idi Amin's personal medic. While at first captivated by Amin's strong, likeable personality, the doctor is witness to Amin's transformation into a ruthless, erratic and paranoid dictator.
This movie is actually very captivating. Withtaker's performance is very strong, giving such force to his Amin. McAvoy's character is also well done, acting the part of a fun-loving, superficial and sometimes decidedly stupid young man (really, everybody knows you just don't screw the mad dictator's wife).
Though there are a couple of strong visuals, it's nothing too overbearing. It's a good enough movie, though not excellent.
------------------------------
Bueno, first part done. Will move onto the next when I get some free time. As it is I'm using my homework time at the moment.
Ta.
Lately I've been watching movies as if on a marathon. See a couple or so every week instead of other things, such as: do homework, clean up the house a bit, go to school, make something worthwhile out of myself, etc. Osea, la hueva total.
Tons, here goes a brief list of some of the things I've seen these past couple of weeks. May have some spoilers, but whatever.
-----------------------------------
Hotel Rwanda-
The plot revolves around a luxury hotel in Rwanda, which served as a sort of temporal sanctuary during the mid-90's genocide of the Tutsi people and it's manager's heroic struggle to see all refugees -and his family- to safety.
The movie is well done. Nice and inspirational. Gives the general idea of mass-murder horror without being overly graphic, even giving a "happy end". I specially liked that whole "Hello sir. We're about to be murdered by a bunch of trigger-happy soldiers and machete-wielding rioters, but I just called to thank you for all you've done for me and my family" speech.
However, aside from it's take on such a difficult subject as genocide, it's not a film one can't miss. I also get the feel that the main character is seen on too keen a light. Kind of like Schindler, who later turned out not to be as heroic as portrayed in Shindler's list.
Hard Candy-
A cute and smart fourteen year old girl meets with a thirty something year old photographer she met on a chatroom and convinces him to take her back to his house, something any kid should know better than to do. However, little Hayley is not as naive as she first appears to be and the roles of predator and prey are reversed.
I actually liked this movie a lot. The girl is absolutely psychotic, but in such an intelligent, bitchy, even bad-ass way I just couldn't help but root for her. Go Hayley, unleash your righteous wrath upon that pedophile! Oh, and please do wash your hands after you are finished, if you don't mind. You don't know where that has been.
While the plot is quite nice, in my opinion, but there are a couple of drawbacks, the main three being:
1) The movie takes too long to set the story into motion, so the beginning does drag on for a bit.
2) Some things in the plot are kind of predictable, such as the castration stint.
3) Ellen Page's performance is much stronger than Patrick Wilson's.
The Last King of Scotland:
A young Scottish doctor becomes Uganda's president Idi Amin's personal medic. While at first captivated by Amin's strong, likeable personality, the doctor is witness to Amin's transformation into a ruthless, erratic and paranoid dictator.
This movie is actually very captivating. Withtaker's performance is very strong, giving such force to his Amin. McAvoy's character is also well done, acting the part of a fun-loving, superficial and sometimes decidedly stupid young man (really, everybody knows you just don't screw the mad dictator's wife).
Though there are a couple of strong visuals, it's nothing too overbearing. It's a good enough movie, though not excellent.
------------------------------
Bueno, first part done. Will move onto the next when I get some free time. As it is I'm using my homework time at the moment.
Ta.
Fashion faux pas
Two new embarrasing moments to add to my already generous collection (like that one time I got my bag stuck in the metro doors and didn't realize it wouldn't open until Potreros, in the other end of the city... yeah. ):
(1)
Fui a tirar la basura de la casa como de costumbre: vestida en pijama, con el pelo hecho un vil desmadre, en chanclas; en resumen, como toda buena ama de casa baquetona. Sin embargo, incorporé un nuevo accesorio de moda: una estrella azul en la frente, de esas que la maestra de la primaria me pegaba con babas hace ya algunos años.
Al parecer, Mi dulce hermanito Christian me regaló tal muestra de su afecto mientras dormitaba. El niño lo mencionó, pero como estaba medio muerta al mundo, ni me percaté de ello.
Explains why the trash guy and a couple of neighbors looked at me funny for a while.
(2)
En un raro (muy, muy raro) momento de vanidad, me vestí con mi lindo saco azul (which oddly reminds me of a bellboy's uniform) y una camisa blanca pegada. Para darle un boost, usé mi veintiúnico push-up bra, que resulta ser negro.
La camisa es gruesa, por lo que no se nota el brasier. No obstante, no tomé en cuenta un par de cosas:
-La camisa es pegada, razón por la cual la decidí usar.
-Tiene un botón algo flojo.
-Con el push-up mi tamaño de busto incrementa un poco.
Resultado:
El botón se salió del ojal, por lo que la camisa se abrió en la parte del busto y anduve caminando por Insurgentes enseñando parte de mi lindo push-up negro a través de mi camisa blanca.
And I felt "oh so pretty" too, with all those stares in my direction.
I'm such a dimwit.
(1)
Fui a tirar la basura de la casa como de costumbre: vestida en pijama, con el pelo hecho un vil desmadre, en chanclas; en resumen, como toda buena ama de casa baquetona. Sin embargo, incorporé un nuevo accesorio de moda: una estrella azul en la frente, de esas que la maestra de la primaria me pegaba con babas hace ya algunos años.
Al parecer, Mi dulce hermanito Christian me regaló tal muestra de su afecto mientras dormitaba. El niño lo mencionó, pero como estaba medio muerta al mundo, ni me percaté de ello.
Explains why the trash guy and a couple of neighbors looked at me funny for a while.
(2)
En un raro (muy, muy raro) momento de vanidad, me vestí con mi lindo saco azul (which oddly reminds me of a bellboy's uniform) y una camisa blanca pegada. Para darle un boost, usé mi veintiúnico push-up bra, que resulta ser negro.
La camisa es gruesa, por lo que no se nota el brasier. No obstante, no tomé en cuenta un par de cosas:
-La camisa es pegada, razón por la cual la decidí usar.
-Tiene un botón algo flojo.
-Con el push-up mi tamaño de busto incrementa un poco.
Resultado:
El botón se salió del ojal, por lo que la camisa se abrió en la parte del busto y anduve caminando por Insurgentes enseñando parte de mi lindo push-up negro a través de mi camisa blanca.
And I felt "oh so pretty" too, with all those stares in my direction.
I'm such a dimwit.
Been a while...
Han pasado muchas cosas desde el último blog.
For one, I went to Shakira's Oral fixation tour. Si, así de mal.
My dreadfully childish, useless, womanizing, leeching uncle (un hombre de muchas cualidades; it's a wonder how I still care for the idiot) gave me a ticket as a present. And he looked SO happy and proud, too.
Apparently, he thought that I, being such a good girl and all (de dónde sacó esa idea no sé, pero me hizo sentir culpable por alguna razón) deserved a nice gift as a reward. And, for some reason that I can't fanthom, that gift came in the form of a concert ticket. For Shakira.
Yeah, the belly-dancing, "haría-todo-por-amor" pop-tart. Shakira.
I enjoyed howling (ok, so I can't sing) her latest hits and attempted to belly-dance (nor dance, apparently.) just like the next girl.
When I was 11.
But somehow, my dearest of kin believes I'm still into that, decade notwithstanding and such.
So I just stood there, fake, forced smile on my face, pretending to be delighted over the oh-so-toughtful gift that I knew cost him a lot of effort and money he could use for far more useful things. Como pagar parte del préstamo que le hice.
I tried reselling the ticket, but I was offered less than half it's original price (Si eso no habla de la calidad del concierto...) so I endured the whole thing, money-grabbing bitch that I am. Must say, en mi humilde opinión, it was not worth the 550 pesos.
Much more fun and fulfilling was the trip I made into a glorious male strip-club with my mother and a couple of her friends.
Yessir! I have seen heaven in the form of a barely-clad, dancing, grinding, muscular, tanned, oiled hunk. Y fueron como 8 de ellos. Casi me arrodillo y doy gracias.
It was pure, unadultered fun. We bought the mandatory vodka bottle, and I got a tad bit drunk. I think my mother had never seen me so, and was more than likely very surprised, and perhaps a bit ashamed at the way the fruit of her womb was behaving. Y se supone que soy su roca, la hija responsable y calmada.
Lo admito, I'm no good when drunk. I usually lose inhibition with my, and other's bodies. I have yet to go overboard, but I get a bit naughty.
So couple a drunk version of me and a bunch of entincing, nearly-nude men and you get your regular groping, wanton party animal.
I was like a child in a candy store. Sort of.
I would grope any piece of flesh I could when any of my dear, mouth-watering gods walked by, and screamed all sorts of pleas until my throat was raw. Good thing I wan't the only one, so mother can't place the blame fully on me. Aunque creo que sospecha...
I bought my mother two lap dances, 90 pesos a piece, from the cute, enthusiastic spanish youngster and the decidedly seductive, delicious, experienced Angel. Este último traga fuego y se columpia en telas que cuelgan del techo. And the way he dances is just sinful. Creo que estoy enamorada...
She had no clue what hit her, just felt those scrumptious boys get up close and personnal with her. Since she wasn't participative enough for my likes, I brought her hands to the boys' pert, and wonderfully tight, rears and made her fondle them, declaring "Agarra, aprovecha. Para eso pagué." She got the general idea after that. Guadalupe, her friend's sister, got a bit wilder and made her grope the family jewels.
Mom got naughty. I was giddy with laughter. Those boys seemed surprised I demanded they fondle and kiss my mother throughly. I guess it isn't often a girl roots for a couple of perfect strangers, delicious as they were, to misbehave with her mother. But I'm odd that way.
It was great fun, the most I've had in a while. Dreadfully expensive, but SO worth it. I encourage anyone to try it.
Una experiencia educativa, sin duda.
For one, I went to Shakira's Oral fixation tour. Si, así de mal.
My dreadfully childish, useless, womanizing, leeching uncle (un hombre de muchas cualidades; it's a wonder how I still care for the idiot) gave me a ticket as a present. And he looked SO happy and proud, too.
Apparently, he thought that I, being such a good girl and all (de dónde sacó esa idea no sé, pero me hizo sentir culpable por alguna razón) deserved a nice gift as a reward. And, for some reason that I can't fanthom, that gift came in the form of a concert ticket. For Shakira.
Yeah, the belly-dancing, "haría-todo-por-amor" pop-tart. Shakira.
I enjoyed howling (ok, so I can't sing) her latest hits and attempted to belly-dance (nor dance, apparently.) just like the next girl.
When I was 11.
But somehow, my dearest of kin believes I'm still into that, decade notwithstanding and such.
So I just stood there, fake, forced smile on my face, pretending to be delighted over the oh-so-toughtful gift that I knew cost him a lot of effort and money he could use for far more useful things. Como pagar parte del préstamo que le hice.
I tried reselling the ticket, but I was offered less than half it's original price (Si eso no habla de la calidad del concierto...) so I endured the whole thing, money-grabbing bitch that I am. Must say, en mi humilde opinión, it was not worth the 550 pesos.
Much more fun and fulfilling was the trip I made into a glorious male strip-club with my mother and a couple of her friends.
Yessir! I have seen heaven in the form of a barely-clad, dancing, grinding, muscular, tanned, oiled hunk. Y fueron como 8 de ellos. Casi me arrodillo y doy gracias.
It was pure, unadultered fun. We bought the mandatory vodka bottle, and I got a tad bit drunk. I think my mother had never seen me so, and was more than likely very surprised, and perhaps a bit ashamed at the way the fruit of her womb was behaving. Y se supone que soy su roca, la hija responsable y calmada.
Lo admito, I'm no good when drunk. I usually lose inhibition with my, and other's bodies. I have yet to go overboard, but I get a bit naughty.
So couple a drunk version of me and a bunch of entincing, nearly-nude men and you get your regular groping, wanton party animal.
I was like a child in a candy store. Sort of.
I would grope any piece of flesh I could when any of my dear, mouth-watering gods walked by, and screamed all sorts of pleas until my throat was raw. Good thing I wan't the only one, so mother can't place the blame fully on me. Aunque creo que sospecha...
I bought my mother two lap dances, 90 pesos a piece, from the cute, enthusiastic spanish youngster and the decidedly seductive, delicious, experienced Angel. Este último traga fuego y se columpia en telas que cuelgan del techo. And the way he dances is just sinful. Creo que estoy enamorada...
She had no clue what hit her, just felt those scrumptious boys get up close and personnal with her. Since she wasn't participative enough for my likes, I brought her hands to the boys' pert, and wonderfully tight, rears and made her fondle them, declaring "Agarra, aprovecha. Para eso pagué." She got the general idea after that. Guadalupe, her friend's sister, got a bit wilder and made her grope the family jewels.
Mom got naughty. I was giddy with laughter. Those boys seemed surprised I demanded they fondle and kiss my mother throughly. I guess it isn't often a girl roots for a couple of perfect strangers, delicious as they were, to misbehave with her mother. But I'm odd that way.
It was great fun, the most I've had in a while. Dreadfully expensive, but SO worth it. I encourage anyone to try it.
Una experiencia educativa, sin duda.
Weird...
Most people who know me agree when I say freaky, absolutely stupid things happen to me out of nowhere. En serio.
Take today for example. Iba en una micro con una amiga rumbo al metro Xola, donde veríamos una exposición fotográfica. Como siempre, íbamos comparando desgracias familiares (annoying, tattling, copy-cat counsins, overprotective mothers and such), y me di cuenta que había un tipo en chamarra naranja tras de mí. But since it IS me, iba en la lela absoluta e ignoraba todo menos a Sara. Suddenly, in a creepy whisper, (the kind that makes you wanto to double-check you aren't hearing imaginary things again) escuché que llamaban mi nombre.
-Paola... Paola... Paola.
En serio. Parecía diálogo de mala película de terror. Al más puro estilo de algún filme del Santo. Al principio, como ví que nadie reaccionaba, supuse que sí estaba, de hecho, escuchando voces imaginarias otra vez. Yet, the whispers kept going on and getting louder.
Me empecé a poner un poco nerviosa. Digo, un perfecto extraño puede comenzar a hablarte, pero cuando murmuran tu nombre repetidamente -and in such a manic way, too- uno comienza a asustarse.
En fin, el wey ya estaba repitiendo mi nombre como mantra en un nivel de voz considerable, así que volteé a ver quien chingaba.
Oh sorpresa, era Gilberto; un wey que conocí en la UAM hace dos años y que aún recuerdo como el loser más urgido de la clase de Psicología Social. Seriously, this the guy that periodically went after anything that remotely resembled a female.
Recuerdo aquellos viejos tiempos: él, creyendo que Leo era toda una intelectual, la invitó al teatro. Al negarse cortésmente ella, invitó a Akemi, quien gusta vestir de negro y rojo pasión, a ir a tomar una chelas. La tierna y dulce Akemi lo mandó a la chingada sin más. Digo, Akemi-chan puede ser muy goth y sarcástica, pero tiene una aversión por el licor barato. Sólo buen vino para ella.
A mí, viéndome toda teta, pendeja y persignada (for some reason, everyone used to think that of me; must have been the long hair, glasses and childish looks. Sad thing when you are a precocious, bitchy girl) me invitó a La Feria y a tomar un helado. Yes, he asked me out to an amusement park and an ice cream shop, just like in a 1950's movies. How outdated is that?
He used to write saccharine notes to me in his butchered english. Algo como:
I so happy to have to meet a such nice, prety girl like your for my freind.
No recuerdo muy bien, tiene mucho tiempo. Pero sí me acuerdo de que Cuauhtémoc se burlaba sin cesar de mi infortunio (aw, such a sweet, caring boy he is) y Akemi casí se convulsionaba del horror que le producía el maltrecho inglés de Gilberto. Como profesora de inglés, le era tóxico tal nivel de pendejadas mal redactadas que este wey dejaba surgir de sus entrañas.
Era tan patético. Una vez me llamó para avisarme que no iría a clases (yeah, I too was perplexed as to why he thought I should be notified) y me mencionó que sentía una gran compatibilidad hacia mí, porque yo era una persona espiritual.
-¿Mande?
-Si, usted es una persona muy religiosa, ¿verdad?
-Soy atea (I was, back then).
-¡Ah! Este... usted es una persona con un gran alma. Con un gran amor a la vida.
Funny, and here I thought I was bipolar or something, what with all those continous depressions and suicidal urges I get now and then. You know? like when you are in the metro tracks and you wonder what it would be like if you just jumped in front of the train. Soy de ese tipo de personas.
ANYWAY, el caso es que aquí estaba yo, frente a este wey que no había visto -thank the lord- en más de dos años, en una micro atestada de gente y sin escape cercano.
-¿Eres Paola?
-Este (should I ...?) ¿sí?
-Te conocí hace tiempo.
- ¿Ah si? mira que interesante...
Deseaba que Sara interrumpiera la conversación o algo, pero mi dulce amiga estaba en la lela mirando hacia el espacio y no parecía percatarse de mi calvario. Entonces Gilberto comenzó a hablarme en algo que remotamente parecía inglés combinado con neanderthal, pero yo ya estaba impaciente y lo corté de tajo con un malhumorado "¿Qué?"
Le intentó de nuevo, pero al ver mi cara de pocos amigos se decidió por un idioma que sí pudiera pronunciar. Me mencionó que nos habíamos conocido en la UAM. Yo sabía quien era, pero por mi propia salud mental fingí demencia.
-¿En la UAM? tiene mucho que no voy. (As a matter of fact, I was there last tuesday in cinema class. Nearly a whole week! how time goes by).
-Sí, yo ya no he ido en 2 años.
Estoy segura de que la población femenina de la UAM agradece inmensamente a Dios la bendición de tu ausencia, Gilberto.
-Es mucho tiempo. ¿Cómo dices que te llamas? (Yeah right, like I hadn't remembered his name along with a few choice adjectives)
-Gilberto.
Sara, por fín, escogió ese momento para preguntarme dónde nos teníamos que bajar.
-Oye Gilberto, ¿hacia adónde está Ermita?
-Ya la pasamos desde hace rato.
-¡Vaya!, entonces mejor nos bajamos. ¡Cuidate!
Jalé a sara no del todo delicada por el brazo y presioné el botón para bajar. Mientras bajaba, ignorando los quejidos de Sara, alcanzé a escuchar al perv este preguntarme si vivía en el mismo lugar.
WTF? how the hell does he know where I used to live?
Scary.
Es increible; no teníamos por qué tomar la misma pesera que este wey. Nos subimos a esa pesera porque Sara la cagó y fuimos al paradero equivocado. Íbamos a esperar a unos amigos pero se tardaron demasiado y nos fuimos. Se nos hizo tarde e íbamos en chinga. Sara quería tomar taxi pero yo no quise.
Algún poder supremo conspira contra mí. En una pesera equis, en un momento determinado, Gilberto, un pendejete que no tolero y no había visto en más de dos años, y yo, coincidimos en rutas y nos encontramos (Insert Twilight Zone theme music here).
A la Humprey en Casablanca: Out of all the men in the city, out of all the micros around, HE had to walk into my pesera.
Cuauhtémoc se va a cagar de la risa cuando lo sepa.
Take today for example. Iba en una micro con una amiga rumbo al metro Xola, donde veríamos una exposición fotográfica. Como siempre, íbamos comparando desgracias familiares (annoying, tattling, copy-cat counsins, overprotective mothers and such), y me di cuenta que había un tipo en chamarra naranja tras de mí. But since it IS me, iba en la lela absoluta e ignoraba todo menos a Sara. Suddenly, in a creepy whisper, (the kind that makes you wanto to double-check you aren't hearing imaginary things again) escuché que llamaban mi nombre.
-Paola... Paola... Paola.
En serio. Parecía diálogo de mala película de terror. Al más puro estilo de algún filme del Santo. Al principio, como ví que nadie reaccionaba, supuse que sí estaba, de hecho, escuchando voces imaginarias otra vez. Yet, the whispers kept going on and getting louder.
Me empecé a poner un poco nerviosa. Digo, un perfecto extraño puede comenzar a hablarte, pero cuando murmuran tu nombre repetidamente -and in such a manic way, too- uno comienza a asustarse.
En fin, el wey ya estaba repitiendo mi nombre como mantra en un nivel de voz considerable, así que volteé a ver quien chingaba.
Oh sorpresa, era Gilberto; un wey que conocí en la UAM hace dos años y que aún recuerdo como el loser más urgido de la clase de Psicología Social. Seriously, this the guy that periodically went after anything that remotely resembled a female.
Recuerdo aquellos viejos tiempos: él, creyendo que Leo era toda una intelectual, la invitó al teatro. Al negarse cortésmente ella, invitó a Akemi, quien gusta vestir de negro y rojo pasión, a ir a tomar una chelas. La tierna y dulce Akemi lo mandó a la chingada sin más. Digo, Akemi-chan puede ser muy goth y sarcástica, pero tiene una aversión por el licor barato. Sólo buen vino para ella.
A mí, viéndome toda teta, pendeja y persignada (for some reason, everyone used to think that of me; must have been the long hair, glasses and childish looks. Sad thing when you are a precocious, bitchy girl) me invitó a La Feria y a tomar un helado. Yes, he asked me out to an amusement park and an ice cream shop, just like in a 1950's movies. How outdated is that?
He used to write saccharine notes to me in his butchered english. Algo como:
I so happy to have to meet a such nice, prety girl like your for my freind.
No recuerdo muy bien, tiene mucho tiempo. Pero sí me acuerdo de que Cuauhtémoc se burlaba sin cesar de mi infortunio (aw, such a sweet, caring boy he is) y Akemi casí se convulsionaba del horror que le producía el maltrecho inglés de Gilberto. Como profesora de inglés, le era tóxico tal nivel de pendejadas mal redactadas que este wey dejaba surgir de sus entrañas.
Era tan patético. Una vez me llamó para avisarme que no iría a clases (yeah, I too was perplexed as to why he thought I should be notified) y me mencionó que sentía una gran compatibilidad hacia mí, porque yo era una persona espiritual.
-¿Mande?
-Si, usted es una persona muy religiosa, ¿verdad?
-Soy atea (I was, back then).
-¡Ah! Este... usted es una persona con un gran alma. Con un gran amor a la vida.
Funny, and here I thought I was bipolar or something, what with all those continous depressions and suicidal urges I get now and then. You know? like when you are in the metro tracks and you wonder what it would be like if you just jumped in front of the train. Soy de ese tipo de personas.
ANYWAY, el caso es que aquí estaba yo, frente a este wey que no había visto -thank the lord- en más de dos años, en una micro atestada de gente y sin escape cercano.
-¿Eres Paola?
-Este (should I ...?) ¿sí?
-Te conocí hace tiempo.
- ¿Ah si? mira que interesante...
Deseaba que Sara interrumpiera la conversación o algo, pero mi dulce amiga estaba en la lela mirando hacia el espacio y no parecía percatarse de mi calvario. Entonces Gilberto comenzó a hablarme en algo que remotamente parecía inglés combinado con neanderthal, pero yo ya estaba impaciente y lo corté de tajo con un malhumorado "¿Qué?"
Le intentó de nuevo, pero al ver mi cara de pocos amigos se decidió por un idioma que sí pudiera pronunciar. Me mencionó que nos habíamos conocido en la UAM. Yo sabía quien era, pero por mi propia salud mental fingí demencia.
-¿En la UAM? tiene mucho que no voy. (As a matter of fact, I was there last tuesday in cinema class. Nearly a whole week! how time goes by).
-Sí, yo ya no he ido en 2 años.
Estoy segura de que la población femenina de la UAM agradece inmensamente a Dios la bendición de tu ausencia, Gilberto.
-Es mucho tiempo. ¿Cómo dices que te llamas? (Yeah right, like I hadn't remembered his name along with a few choice adjectives)
-Gilberto.
Sara, por fín, escogió ese momento para preguntarme dónde nos teníamos que bajar.
-Oye Gilberto, ¿hacia adónde está Ermita?
-Ya la pasamos desde hace rato.
-¡Vaya!, entonces mejor nos bajamos. ¡Cuidate!
Jalé a sara no del todo delicada por el brazo y presioné el botón para bajar. Mientras bajaba, ignorando los quejidos de Sara, alcanzé a escuchar al perv este preguntarme si vivía en el mismo lugar.
WTF? how the hell does he know where I used to live?
Scary.
Es increible; no teníamos por qué tomar la misma pesera que este wey. Nos subimos a esa pesera porque Sara la cagó y fuimos al paradero equivocado. Íbamos a esperar a unos amigos pero se tardaron demasiado y nos fuimos. Se nos hizo tarde e íbamos en chinga. Sara quería tomar taxi pero yo no quise.
Algún poder supremo conspira contra mí. En una pesera equis, en un momento determinado, Gilberto, un pendejete que no tolero y no había visto en más de dos años, y yo, coincidimos en rutas y nos encontramos (Insert Twilight Zone theme music here).
A la Humprey en Casablanca: Out of all the men in the city, out of all the micros around, HE had to walk into my pesera.
Cuauhtémoc se va a cagar de la risa cuando lo sepa.
Fue uno de esos sublimes días.
Que día tan maravilloso.... Sólo faltaba que me cagara un alegre pajarillo para que fuera la velada ideal.
Turns out today was a waste of a perfectly good afternoon. First off, I went to get my Psychology homework, but it turned out that the professor had already picked the copies up. Later, my Análisis teacher decided she would not grace un with her presence for my 4 to 6 class, followed by my 6 to 8 Marco Jurídico profa. who did not make an appearance either. Las muy perras…
I was naturally upset, since I could have watched my faculty's movie club picks of the day: Breakfast at Tiffany's and Gentlemen prefer blondes. But noooooooooo, I spent a good 40 minutes in each class waiting for someone to have the decency to show up. Una maldita nota en la puerta hubiera sido suficiente; chingaa, un pinche ladrido desde el estacionamiento de profesores hubiera bastado.
So I met up with up with a couple of semi friends; (de esos que están entre conocidos y amistades superficiales) and actually had an ok time, but one of them got all depressed and managed to get me all antsy just by the woe-is-me vibe she was dumping off in massive waves. The other was getting all sweet and corny with her new boyfriend, which could have been cute, except for the fact I'm a resentful bitch and don't like to see happy couples while I'm single. Que es siempre.. Alguien por favor sáqueme de mi miseria.
Afterwards I went up to my last class of the day, History (which I'm taking all over again, since I somehow managed to fail it by being my lazy self), from 8 to 10, but the damned asshole of a professor I've got wouldn't let me in¸ the uptight bastard he is. I wasn't even all that late, just about 15 minutes. Tomando en cuenta que para mí media hora de retraso es decente, llegué puntualísima. But he claimed they were having an activity or something like that. All I saw were my stupid little second semester classmates (¿era yo así de pendeja cuando estaba en segundo?) playing around with straws. Their minds must have been seriously challenged by such a feat.
Whatever. Not like I missed an unforgettable class or something. Or maybe I did; after all, try as I might, I can't forget that infamous line of my wise professor: "Díganme si no, cuando los españoles conquistaron México se inventó la comunicación en América". How fucked up is that? Ah, but I must remember this is the pendejo that claims information, communication and knowledge are synonyms. Y pensar que en sus cultas manos reposan las incautas mentes de los pequeños de segundo semestre. Y la mía, por el momento.
So I'm guessing this day was life's blatant (and redundant) way of telling me it doesn't care much for my peace of mind. In fact, it appears I can take my peace of mind and shove it up where the sun don't shine. And we ain't talking of Paris Hilton's brain, either (aunque estoy casi segura de que ese órgano en particular no ha sido iluminado desde que la niña aprendió a decir "that´s hot").
To hell with it. I'll just sleep it off. Nightie.
Turns out today was a waste of a perfectly good afternoon. First off, I went to get my Psychology homework, but it turned out that the professor had already picked the copies up. Later, my Análisis teacher decided she would not grace un with her presence for my 4 to 6 class, followed by my 6 to 8 Marco Jurídico profa. who did not make an appearance either. Las muy perras…
I was naturally upset, since I could have watched my faculty's movie club picks of the day: Breakfast at Tiffany's and Gentlemen prefer blondes. But noooooooooo, I spent a good 40 minutes in each class waiting for someone to have the decency to show up. Una maldita nota en la puerta hubiera sido suficiente; chingaa, un pinche ladrido desde el estacionamiento de profesores hubiera bastado.
So I met up with up with a couple of semi friends; (de esos que están entre conocidos y amistades superficiales) and actually had an ok time, but one of them got all depressed and managed to get me all antsy just by the woe-is-me vibe she was dumping off in massive waves. The other was getting all sweet and corny with her new boyfriend, which could have been cute, except for the fact I'm a resentful bitch and don't like to see happy couples while I'm single. Que es siempre.. Alguien por favor sáqueme de mi miseria.
Afterwards I went up to my last class of the day, History (which I'm taking all over again, since I somehow managed to fail it by being my lazy self), from 8 to 10, but the damned asshole of a professor I've got wouldn't let me in¸ the uptight bastard he is. I wasn't even all that late, just about 15 minutes. Tomando en cuenta que para mí media hora de retraso es decente, llegué puntualísima. But he claimed they were having an activity or something like that. All I saw were my stupid little second semester classmates (¿era yo así de pendeja cuando estaba en segundo?) playing around with straws. Their minds must have been seriously challenged by such a feat.
Whatever. Not like I missed an unforgettable class or something. Or maybe I did; after all, try as I might, I can't forget that infamous line of my wise professor: "Díganme si no, cuando los españoles conquistaron México se inventó la comunicación en América". How fucked up is that? Ah, but I must remember this is the pendejo that claims information, communication and knowledge are synonyms. Y pensar que en sus cultas manos reposan las incautas mentes de los pequeños de segundo semestre. Y la mía, por el momento.
So I'm guessing this day was life's blatant (and redundant) way of telling me it doesn't care much for my peace of mind. In fact, it appears I can take my peace of mind and shove it up where the sun don't shine. And we ain't talking of Paris Hilton's brain, either (aunque estoy casi segura de que ese órgano en particular no ha sido iluminado desde que la niña aprendió a decir "that´s hot").
To hell with it. I'll just sleep it off. Nightie.
I am alive!!!! ALIVE I tell you!!! Mwahahahahaha
It's been a very looong time since I posted, I know. But Im doing this for Ale, who claims he reads it. Let us see.
Pero no fue mi culpa, lo juro. Bueno, sí lo fue, pero la clave esta en la negación. El caso es que tuve un semestre de esos que se van en un espiral descendente rumbo a la fregada y son extremadamente dañinos para la salud. I fell very ill; probably because I didn´t sleep and my diet consisted of a steady supply of Standard University Junk Food. Léase Cazares con salsa Valentina y Boing de diversos sabores.
Terminé con varios males estomacales y perdí peso (that I readily gained back during winter vacation; who says only bears stock up on food and hibernate?). En serio, mal semestre.
Pero me recuperé y hasta pude llegar a la facu con un nuevo look. For I have finally accomplished one of the greatest goals of my young life: I finally cut my hair.
Sí, uno de mis mayores deseos era un corte de cabello. Soy muy triste, ¿qué puedo decir?
-BUT- it was no ordinary task. Lets take into account that I hadnt gotten a haircut in more than ten years.Tenía el cabello muy largo, más allá de las posaderas. A la Rapunzel, nada más que la versión pirata mexicana, con orzuela y todo. Y me hice mechones beige! Me dicen que se ve lindo y me alegro. Chance y ya no veo tan lela. Of course, to actually stop being one is a vastly different thing. No miracles here kiddos.
Soooooo, Updates:
Saris is my bestest friend again! Turns out she was having a rough time with the family, work and school. No aguanto a su primita, es una verdadera pesadilla. Es de esas princesitas acostumbradas a la buena vida (chirpy, squeaky voice included) que quieren siempre llamar la atención y se la pasa compitiendo por ello.
Recluimos al enano mayor, Pancho, en un internado militarizado en Tabasco. He rained on my moms parade one too many times, apparently. No sé que pensar sobre ello; era necesario, sin duda, pero es raro no tener a mi nene aqui para vivorear a la gente a gusto.
He seems to have adapted to military school just fine, though I do hope he becomes a better man, cuz if he doesnt, hes getting taught all he needs to become a very dangerous person. Al parecer, parte del curriculum educativo es combate con y sin armas, armar y disparar pistolas, resistencia, disciplina y coco-wash del bueno, de ese que intenta practicar el peje pero se queda corto. (The Force is not necesarily by his side, unless, of course, hordes of elderly people count as The Force).
Escogí la opción de publicidad. Todavía no sé por qué, pero creo que no me equivoqué. Espero. I really do hope.
Sleepy.
Cuidaos.
Pero no fue mi culpa, lo juro. Bueno, sí lo fue, pero la clave esta en la negación. El caso es que tuve un semestre de esos que se van en un espiral descendente rumbo a la fregada y son extremadamente dañinos para la salud. I fell very ill; probably because I didn´t sleep and my diet consisted of a steady supply of Standard University Junk Food. Léase Cazares con salsa Valentina y Boing de diversos sabores.
Terminé con varios males estomacales y perdí peso (that I readily gained back during winter vacation; who says only bears stock up on food and hibernate?). En serio, mal semestre.
Pero me recuperé y hasta pude llegar a la facu con un nuevo look. For I have finally accomplished one of the greatest goals of my young life: I finally cut my hair.
Sí, uno de mis mayores deseos era un corte de cabello. Soy muy triste, ¿qué puedo decir?
-BUT- it was no ordinary task. Lets take into account that I hadnt gotten a haircut in more than ten years.Tenía el cabello muy largo, más allá de las posaderas. A la Rapunzel, nada más que la versión pirata mexicana, con orzuela y todo. Y me hice mechones beige! Me dicen que se ve lindo y me alegro. Chance y ya no veo tan lela. Of course, to actually stop being one is a vastly different thing. No miracles here kiddos.
Soooooo, Updates:
Saris is my bestest friend again! Turns out she was having a rough time with the family, work and school. No aguanto a su primita, es una verdadera pesadilla. Es de esas princesitas acostumbradas a la buena vida (chirpy, squeaky voice included) que quieren siempre llamar la atención y se la pasa compitiendo por ello.
Recluimos al enano mayor, Pancho, en un internado militarizado en Tabasco. He rained on my moms parade one too many times, apparently. No sé que pensar sobre ello; era necesario, sin duda, pero es raro no tener a mi nene aqui para vivorear a la gente a gusto.
He seems to have adapted to military school just fine, though I do hope he becomes a better man, cuz if he doesnt, hes getting taught all he needs to become a very dangerous person. Al parecer, parte del curriculum educativo es combate con y sin armas, armar y disparar pistolas, resistencia, disciplina y coco-wash del bueno, de ese que intenta practicar el peje pero se queda corto. (The Force is not necesarily by his side, unless, of course, hordes of elderly people count as The Force).
Escogí la opción de publicidad. Todavía no sé por qué, pero creo que no me equivoqué. Espero. I really do hope.
Sleepy.
Cuidaos.
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