Y ahora la novedad es que hay un paseo. Aún falta un mes. La buena noticia es que solo tengo una o dos tareas asignadas. No me he podido negar, me lo pidieron amablemente. ¿Saldrá todo bien? Seguro que sí, las pequeñas imperfecciones son lo que le dará sabor al asunto. Veamos.
Latest Updates RSS
-
therat
-
therat
Seen from above, my life could be a green grasshopper, going from adiction to addiction. Not chemicals involved, fortunately. The thing is, I always seem to be seeking for something new to worship. Not in the religious meaning of the word. I solved that time ago, there is only a person I worship. The end. I mean this little adictions I collect like post stamps.
There are the scarce manga books I’ve laid my hands on. There are anime series. There are some old movies and books and chocolate and chewing gum and stuff.
I don’t drop the subjects of my interest once consumed. I still cherish antique Queen Millennia, for example. But I need something new for the present.
Right now, it is Terry Pratchett. You read it, you know there is more, you want it.
Here, at my place, there is only one bookshop that sells those novels, Mr. Books. I rather like their English area, and their Spanish Literature section is inviting. But sometimes they can get one, two, three, four author’s works… And no more. For months. And it’s excruciating. They should know better than that. A person could get desperate and do odd things.
As I was saying, they got Small Gods. Interesting Times. Brujerías (Wyrd Sisters) and ¡Guardias! ¿Guardias? (Guards! Guards?). Pirómides (Pyramoids or something like that). And no more. It’s not fair.
They’re lucky my frield Mille will be in Mexico next month. I already gave her a list of Pratchett (and Gaiman) books to buy for me. Hope she makes it. I saw once Coraline in El Librero, and made the mistake to think I could get it later. Never saw it again. My heart still aches. Lesson: Never let for tomorrow what you can purchase right now.
I use to put my books on two rows on the shelves. The ones that are small enough for it, that is. The bigger ones won’t cooperate, and are piled one above the other as a punishment. You can’t waste space in a tight place like mine.
But I need another shelf already. My bro says I need somewhere to actually put the shelf, too. My father says I should consider growing my stuff towards the ceiling. My mother says I must stop adquiring items like some maniac. I already gave up some drawers, they’re just out my door begging forgiveness for an unsolved crime. I can’t let the TV go. The bed is rather necessary to me. Maybe I have too much clothes. That would do. After all, this is war. Some sacrifices are in order.
-
therat
I got teary all of a sudden. What a crying rat, you’ll say. Ha. But that is because you don’t know. ‘Cause if you would, you’d be as happy as I am now.
And the other rats get my meaning.
I got the email informing me about the new poster for OotP The Movie. I was having a rather hard day at work, so I kept the joy for later.
Then Claudieko the Rat came wheeing and whooing and getting on my nerves, so I went to Mugglenet to see it.
And there was the riot.
But those were not the only good news. I found something you’d call minimal. For me, it was like Christmas before December.
Technically, this is my second gift. On Tuesday, I joined my Mum in her Toy Tour 2006. She selects toys for the children in our church and our family. I behaved, and did a very good job in showing her how ugly some dolls and fake guns were, so I got my reward: my new tiger pet. I’m looking for a name, and when I get the right one, I’ll post the picture. Word.
-
therat
Last night my mother catch me using slang (I was at the phone, just joking with Moonie, who talks very funny sometimes because she likes to feel a bit trespassing). Mum was so dejected I had a hard time trying to make her understand it was all for fun.I remembered the time my first non-school, non-church, no-child-of-my-parents’ friends friend introduced me to some of her folks. I dared to say something about her birthday party, and one of the kids said in a mocking tone: “Is she really your friend? She speaks all to nicely.”
I instantly fell silent.
From then on, I tried to make sure I knew the territory before going further. I also realized I wasn’t going to be a bang in the talk area. My voice was too soft, I used old-fashioned words, and my laughter was
isso childish people foundfindit comical.Nowadays, I don’t care much if people likes me or not, but my hush habits remain. I unconciously start talking to myself in my head or in whispers, and this leads to smiling and laughing alone. It is weird, and gets me some puzzled looks from the others. My pals, luckily, already know these antics and get the meaning just by reading my face, or asking me what it was in low voices.
Oh. I forgot. Some of them do it as well. So it is almost a cophrady. Those Who Speak With Looks Alone.
-
therat
I hate going to vote. I hate it because it means going out in the cruel October sun, on Sunday nonetheless. It happens when you live at the Tropics. But as if it were not bad enough, we had the worst choices ever.
Wait. We’ve had awful political times. But this elections are simply defying awfulness.
I am very clumsy when it comes to voting. I fumble around with the papers (they’re poster-sized, you see), I can’t for the life of me recognize more than two or three faces por diputees (we have to choose 18 – from a dozen parties). It comes as a surprise, when I remember how little our country is. But, after all, we are fragmented. We are ethnically, culturally, geographically and ideologically divided, not in two, but into at least four factions, some weak, some strong, but all demanding.
We are a scale-sized model of the world: with this physical and metaphysical diversity could be a paradise. But we are such an inferno, sometimes.
Our two candidates to presidence are complete opposites. One is dreaming of making his very own huasipungo from us, throwing candy to the avid (or should I say insanely dependant?) masses. The other one wants to play the socialist hero, without a real concertation for his plans.
So I came in low spirits to work today. Had not even the morals to plug in my player. Just made the journey staring to the faces of the people in the metro. And when I got out in my stop, ready to wait an eternity for the green light to shine for us pedestrians to pass, something happened. A driver stopped, and waved us across the street. The guys on the other cars made faces, but he stopped.
I started to smile, thinking it was a small sing we are not such a rotten lot; but a second later I grimaced, remembering all the times I’ve laughed along with my friends about being hopeful, just to see your hopes smashed later.
Sad is the day, kingdom, when your king is an idiot.
