Going down the drain

Well, since I arrived (7/12) things haven't been exactly the same for me. During my 6-day trip to see my dad I realized how attached I've become to Eze, not in the sense of "oh-I-can't-live-without-you", but ... let's say it can be summed up in the following instance:

While I was there, most of the places I went to were malls. That's what Florida appears to be - a huge strip-mall without air conditioner. One of the malls I went to was in Naples. In there we visited stores in a whimsical manner: jewelry shops, pet turtle stands with ample tanks in the center, gag stores in which we whiled away the time and worries (and the money too)... we visited a bookstore, too. Not a huge bookstore, mind you, but organized and pretty enough to vaguely remind me of Border's in Escorial Plaza (one of our main hang-out places). I don't remember what we were looking at, but I suddenly got this thought in my mind "Well, this is nice! Nice place! And tonight I get to see Eze, which makes it even bet-" ... that's when I realized: I might not need Eze around all the time, but I do like to have him close by in my life... I have come to associate him with feeling comfortable and contented with my life in general.

Nonetheless, I had a good time in Florida. There are pictures still trapped inside the mem card in my camera, but the batteries I brought along with me pulled the plug in one of the worst moments, and what's worse: I never was able to take a picture of myself with my father. But there are pictures of my father and his wife and lots of other things ... which I might share later on... as soon as I get over my rage with the batteries and decide to put them into the camera again ... or as soon as I decide to replace them with new ones.

I got here, as I said, 7/12 ... to start working right away the next day. I was so lost. Our division (IT) had moved area again. It turned out for the best, though: I got a bigger desk, with an overhead bin and drawers to boot! It looks much more organized (and it is much more organized). So at work everything is cool, plus apparently everyone decided to go on vacation next week, so those of us left have to take the week off 'cuz they're shutting down anyway. Next week is off! Weeeeee ^_^

As a matter of fact, "next week is off" is a good one for me. Eze and I have our anniversary coming up (tomorrow!) and having the whole week off, both of us, is the best unplanned program ever. But our economic situation won't let us get as "away" as we would have liked, plus now the whole dispatch of gas has been paralized by the truck-drivers' union. (Yesh, shitty island, I know) I guess next week I will get to know the public transport system a whole lot better.

My sister bought the new installment on the Harry Potter book series:


Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

I started reading on Sunday or Monday, I think. I'm not even half way through the book and already some halfwit at this totally unrelated site placed the biggest spoiler right on the front page. DO NOT ENTER IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW! At least I was REALLY put off by this. I might as well erase the link from my bookmarks and never peek into the site again. Other than that, the book is coming along pretty nicely (I know Eze would not agree, but then again, he hasn't read through a single HP book and seems to think that it's an either/or situation when it comes to Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings).

On Tuesday I sat Chichi down to watch Spirited Away. This would be the third time I've watched this movie, and I've noticed my reactions are as varied as my PMS moods.



This scene in particular, when they're riding the train across the "lake", gave me such a sensation of loneliness ... the same sensation I felt when I took the planes to and from Florida. Same lonely sensation, specially coming back. An empty gut feeling, like the mood in a hospital hall when you have some family member sick and dying... lonely, empty, silent ...

And that is pretty much what my dreams have been like since I arrived. I don't know where the fear of being left behind came from, but it has been exacerbated since I returned, to the point of dreaming that Eze had moved to the US (an improbability, far more impossible than getting some sense into Tom Cruise in these past few weeks)...

Well ... so this has been it for now. Pictures soon, depending on my mood and state of affairs with my batteries ...

BTW: put up a new blog, quite limited in theme, but hey! it's my space, and I think an open space for the subject of "pets" was long overdue anyways. I placed my first adoptee as first post, but I don't know why it won't play on the main window, like Mika's does! HELP?

From the Plane.. tha plane!

yes, from the plane... I may post this later on, but at least here, now, as I write this, i'm on board. And it's more meek, lame, mild, blah than I remember. These seats are as uncomfortable as having your dentist ask you to please remove your clothes from the waist down. This is savage: we get crammed in a barely adequate space for six people side by side, and there are eight of us here. Four on the aisle and two and two by the windows. Thankfully I got a window seat... well, does it really matter? I'm getting bored anyway, it's not like the view has anything to offer: blue blue blue blue... oh, and white and blue again. (although i just looked out the window, and there IS a zen-like appeal to the whole electric blue view .... with white little rain-sheep speckled all over... clouds are cleaner on this side).

The anxiety over meeting Dad has subsided a bit (only a bit) to be replaced by my immediate attention to the fact that my back and my neck hurt - was it the backpack? or these cruelly uncomfortable seats?

Oh, and one other little detail: I didn't know garbage traveled with us. They play VH1 on airplanes, particularly "reality" TV shows like Ashlee "Hoppity-Hop-while-the-tape-deck-plays" Simpson's. That and these people don't offer in-flight food (anymore?). At least not for free. Then again, who in their right mind woud pay $5 for airplane food? I would, only if I were flying by ACES (Colombian airline, I think it might be deceased). In any other case, they can stick their funny-tasting sandwiches up their ass. I'll have some water with 2 drops of coffee (that which gringos call coffee per se) and that granola bar you're shoving down our throats, I'm sure it tastes better than the shit you're selling, and it's for free. (Either all that makes sense, or I'm just subconsciously bitter about not getting breakfast).

But hey, this is just a few hours, after that, from what I gather, I'm getting pampered for a few days, and best of all: I get to see Dad! ^_^ (oh and another tiny plus on the side- I got a carton of Benson Menthol Light cigarettes for just $20 :-D … AND I saved a bunch of money with Geico!)

Lamaze for the Un-Pregnant.

Ok, tengo que sentarme y respirar hondo. La ansiedad va in crescendo. Me doy cuenta q lo que faltan son dos dias na mas, de hecho, un solo dia laboral de por medio, el resto es, como diria mi padre, ca~i~a'e mono. Pero me voy dando cuenta de que el prospecto de montarme en un avion, aunque no menos atractivo, tambien me aterra ... es una de esas sensaciones entre placer y panico (que cosas no? las dos p)

No es porque me de miedo que se caiga el avion, explote o en general pase una desgracia que me deje sin extremidades o en ultimo caso, sin vida. Esas cosas bien podrian pasar, pero ahi yo no puedo hacer nada. En todo caso montamos balsa y nos tiramos a la Habana y hacemos Lost 2: Latino Edition cha cha cha! con maracas y todo.

Lo que me provoca ansiedad es el prospecto del viaje mismo, y no se si es miedo o simple ansiedad de que llegue ya ese dia. En todo caso, bien podria ser ansiedad por ver a mi padre, pero tambien es esas cosquillitas que se me salen cada vez q voy a viajar (no es muy a menudo, desafortunadamente). Todo ese proceso de esperar en una sala con mas ventanas que las recomendables (no creo q aquellos q sufren de un autentico miedo a volar deban ver como el vuelo con hora de llegada a 30 minutos del despegue del suyo se estrella contra las vallas de la pista y explota, dejando huesos y craneos esparcidos como si hubiese explotado una pi~ata), hacer la filita toda civilizada para montarse en el avion, ver el pasillito con todo y complejo de acordeon (lo que suena es el lamento de los que le tienen fobia a volar, no es un acordeon de verdad, mi gente), sentarse en esa butaquita que a duras penas acomoda el trasero bien alimentado de una ... todo eso ... y mirar por la ventana pa fuera y obsesionarse de modo enfermizo por dos horas con los motores o las helices ... si, es una delicia. De hecho, creo que para combatir la obsesividad voy a llevar mi laptop y par de peliculas que me interesa ver. A ver si en el mejor de los casos se le acaba la bateria justo antes de aterrizar ... el peor de los casos ni lo menciono. Una cosa es llamar al diablo, otra cosa es verlo venirse en tu cara.


Sexaaaaay!

A toda esa expectativa de experiencia, le sumamos la ansiedad por ver a mi padre, que no lo veo hace mas de un a~o... una se imagina (o trata de imaginarse) la cara de el cuando me vea... pero mas comico va a ser ver la temblequera q voy a tener, probablemente si me colocan dentro de un modulo de estudio de movimientos, puedo servir de modelo para el proximo vibrador que lancen al mercado. Nada mas de imaginarme la escena, me estremezco de la felicidad... y la ansiedad.

Deberia viajar mas a menudo, a lo mejor estas pelotudeces no me ocurririan tan violentamente. Bueno, ahi Eze esta considerando unos precios para pasaje a Espa~a en Navidad. De ser ese el caso, la ansiedad va a ser doble: 1) Viaje mas largo, 2) Visita a un lugar nunca antes visto. Me anima mucho el prospecto y soy capaz de dejar mis ahorros ahi, es una experiencia unica (aunq esperaria que fuera un poco mas comun, pero para eso hace falta lo que los cristianos le llaman un "milagrito", y yo le llamo "situacion providencial" ... si, todo suena a que la virgen maria - en minusculas, pq mas comun el nombre no podia ser - de todos modos va a meter la cuchara, me guste o no)


Es diminuta pero esta ahi, la cuchara...

De todos modos, desde alla posiblemente postee algo en este blog, o a lo mejor no, hay que ver que ritmo de vida han adoptado mi padre y mi madrastra. Se que tienen cable modem (o al menos broadband: same shit, different provider) pero segun me cuenta Martha, papi llega a la casa es a conectarse al internet y empezar a bajar musica y etc etc por ahi pa'bajo ... sounds familiar?

It always does ...