There's something in the air

I woke up today and even though we are few hours from July, I felt like if it was the middle of April. Fucking allergies are fucking killing me today! What the hell happen? Yesterday everything was fine. All was grapes and rivers of honey; the summer heat was hitting us hard and even though I don't have AC in my car, I prefer that to those damn allergies. I sneezed today maybe 500 times and my nose is red of all the times that I had to blew it. I checked the weather on CNN this morning and saw the allergy map but that shitty map has been sitting unchanged for the last 3 months or so. According to them NC is paradise, but I feel like shit.

Yesterday my neighbor from downstairs, an old lady, told me that she had some furniture that she was planning to give away: "are you interested?" The "furniture" was a nice though old and dirty chair full of hair from one of her cats -you know what, maybe was that damn hair, but I've felt bad all day even when I went to work. Even one of my colleagues that has like 10 nails in his leg from a time when he was a teenager and felt from a motorcycle told me that something was in the air because his leg was hurting him like hell. Furthermore, I meet a friend of mine at Starbucks around 4PM and she told that she had had headache all day long, that "there was something in the air". What the hell is going on? Please spring, go fucking away! I had to go to the supermarket and buy my medicine ($1 per pill, what a rip off).

On top of these allergies bothering me all day, I received a phone call from the catering where I work at sometimes. We had a party last weekend at the lake -a weeding- and I was left there with another guy with around 200 instructions of what to do whenever the party was over (take this, take that, pack this, toss that, wash this, dry that, etc.) being one of them that once we got back to the warehouse we had to lay down all the table cloths so that they could dry over the weekend... Well, I fucking forgot and left them inside a plastic bag. The owner of the catering told me (to make a fucking long telephone conversation veeeeeeeeeery short) that she took'em to the dry cleaner and they might not being able to clean them, therefore if that is not possible she will take the money from my gratuity and the other guy's to either clean them or replace'em (we got $50 each). This was after 15 minutes talking to me on the phone like if I was a 10-year old boy that how come we had forgotten, that it was going to cost'em money and so on. Com'on Dude, they make enough money on each party to cover these fricking mistakes. Is not that I crash the van or threw the silver trays in the lake or something like that. My only response to her was "do whatever you think you should do". And she went on and on again and finally kind of realize that I was giving her only monosyllabic answers (yes, no, aha) that she started asking me about the party and if the people were happy, and how this and that, etc. I'm not looking forward to see'em again any time soon.

Today has been kind of strange day, I woke up at 3am and I couldn't go back to sleep. I had to pi badly at that hour but when I came back to bed I laid there trying to fall sleep and it was just impossible. Then I decided to get up, read the news, read my book, check my e-mail, have a cup of coffee, had breakfast, at 6:45 I went to the gym, came back and had breakfast again and well, went to work like usual.

There's definitely something in the air today, allergies, cat's hair, grumpiness, don't know. I hope this cloud leaves by tomorrow to see if those fucking rivers of bullshit that I got today get replace by the usual honey and the sun shines again.

One Hundred Years Later

In early July 1997 on a foggy morning, Jose set his feet on Beijing for the first time. His excitement was double. This was his first trip to Asia, but also it was on the 100th anniversary of his grandfather's trip to China.
Monsieur Gastaldi was born in 1880 in Marseille, France. He was rise in a family that owned a company of merchant ships. Even though he didn't grow up among the sailors and routes, he was gona had an experience worth telling. On his 17th birthday his father -my great grand father- gave him as a graduation gift a trip "around the world". Before leaving port, Jean Lui was given the position of cabin boy and was entrust to the captain for keeping him out of trouble (Jose's father did the same with the Colombian ambassador in Beijing: "sometimes he's hyperactive" was the only warning).
After leaving port they headed for Cape of Good Hope in the south most part of Africa bordering the west coast of Africa; and then through the Indic Ocean and the Malaca straight all the way to Canton.
rickshaws took them from the port to the city and to the local bars. Curiously enough, the first day Jose arrived in Beijing there was a beer festival in the Ritan Park, right across the street from the embassy building. One hundred years later; like (grand)father, like (grand) son.

Non Fiction in a Fiction Way

Johnny counted the bills one by one, sliding them slowly under the neon light to make sure those were not fake dollars. As he opened the register's draw and slowly slip the money in it he thought:"another client another quarter, another day another dollar". He had owned this car shop for almost five years now and business were pretty good these days. It was monday and the week ahead looked good. The secret of any business is to keep the cash flowing in, was what his father use to tell him. Later in his life he would agree in front of a grand jury with tears in his eyes that honesty and truth were never part of those conversations. Keep the cash flowing in no matter what, that will help you solve most of the problems you could create in the process of making that money -recalled Johny about his father's advices. That particular monday he had had, early in the morning one of his well know customers. A bad alternator and some loose wires, very easy money. He closed the register's draw and thanked a client for his business, all bills were good.

Few miles down the road from there, Joe Price was speeding in his Mitsubishi Eclipse turbocharged. He was making 60mph in a 45mph zone. "Move grandpa!" he yelled through the windshield to the car in front of him. He knew he had just the time to grab something to eat, change clothes and go back to work. Early that morning when he left the house with a half-eaten bagel in his hand, he didn't know that was going to be his last meal for the next ten hours. Now, with the clock ticking the last seconds before 5PM, he was starving

Park/space for me/frozen food/paid

Automotive this is Johnny, how can I- who's this?
Joe? Excuse me b-
Oh!, Joe!? Your car what? Are you sure?

Thirteen (Movie)

What a trip, what a mess. Teenagers grow up very fast these days, that's for sure. The movie pictures the life of a thirteen years old girl that starts as a nice and sweet girl, and ends up fucked up. Hey, we all have gotten our share of it at some point in our lives, Anyway, the change is very well managed and is gradual in the movie. The main reason would be the bad influence of her girlfriend, but that was a disfunctional family from the very beginning. Drugs, lies, sex, alcohol, shopping, fashion, easy money, popular girls, acceptance, family, food, the streets, stealing... hell, thanks I'm not a teenager.
The camera moves too much at the beginning of the movie but you get use to it and at the end I was feeling short of breath as the main character was all fucked up. I recommend it.

Creative Writing (1)

Yes, after two years of studying for my MBA and complaining that I didn't have much time for anything other that study and study I finally turn in the last paper... and what I do next? Well, move my ass to the local community college and enroll in a course called 'creative writing'. And here I'm, have class in two hours and I haven't done my homework and I'm bitching about it -bitching about the whole thing and the whole idea.
Why is it that all the stories that you see on TV or in the movies, where the main character enrolls in one of these courses he ends up with a class full of hot chicks, while when I do it is just overweight Americans well in their 30s and 40s? Reality bites, ah?
My homework is to sit on my ass for 12 minutes and write. Just choose a word and write, some kind of mental diarrhea on paper. No matter that nothing comes to your mind, just keep writing at full speed like if you were running from a tiger and something will come up.
Well guess what, nothing has come yet. I think I need a hit of a mild form of amphetamine accepted and approved in out society: a nice cup of coffee. There you go! Later, alligator!

Enemy at the Gates (Movie)

I watched because it was highly recommended by a friend of mine, who told me that was one of the 'best movies ever'. Far from that my friends. The story is simple, two snipers trying to kill each other in the context of the battle Stalingrad during WW2. And as in every film that comes out of Hollywood, there's time for romance and there's a happy ending. Do I need to say more? Don't waste your time with this movie, go mow your lawn instead.
One thing interesting about that crappy film is that some things never change... Let me just my friends tell you what I dislike from that movie. First and foremost is the picture of the Battle for Stalingrad. There's a very good beginning: footage of conscript Russian soldiers jumping out of a train right into a boat to cross the Volga and straight into battle with no weapons at all. The cruelty of the Party officers with the soldiers and the tremendous killing that saw that city. But after that good beginning the movie tells a story of a nice battle, people sleep at night, fight during the day, have time to party and drink, even have time to visit their families in the city. In this battle just on the German side almost half a million troops were stationed in the Stalingrad area, of those the main push was in the hands of the sixth army that had 260,000 soldiers. At the end of the battle in late January 1943, 91,000 Germans were taken prisoners; and from these only 6,000 returned to Germany years later. All those who fought there, as seen in the historical pictures, were just ghosts of human beings. War is cruel and Stalingrad saw everything possible. America has a very romantic vision of war, always on the side of the big gun, don't (want to) realize that war is about killing and being killed. The movies fails to identify what really happen from September'42 till February'43.

Then comes the story. A Russian foot soldier who became from one day to the next a great hero, a sniper that will take down dozens of 'German Officers' a day. A hero to follow for the demoralize Russian troops. Yes, The Soviet Union promoting a hero in the middle of the battle, a repressive country that controls information... why this hero reminds me of Jessica Lynch, another 'war time hero' that was only on paper? And I order to hunt down this sniper, the Germans send a Mayor, the Director of the Sniper school all the way from Berlin, an aristocrat -as opposed to a Russian footsoldier, don't you love all these coincidences?

And if you think this is not enough there's time for love, for sex, for lies and everything else. I don't want to ruin the film for you but you pretty much can guess who kills who and who ends up with the girl -yes, she survives her injuries... of course.

The movie just fails to suck you in, and at a certain point you start asking to please cut through all this red tape and kill one of the snipers so that we can move on. In other words: Not worth watching!

MBA

I've just finished my MBA. That means the end of a bumpy road and the beginning of a paved, six-lane freeway from here on. Or at least that is what I was told.

Swimming Pool (Movie)

I liked it; recommend it. A thriller; you don't quite know where the movie is taking you to. Could lead to several paths: an orgy of murders and running through the woods in the middle of the night like most of thrillers; or could be an orgy in the true sense of the word -drug, sex and rock'n roll; or could be a... just name it, dozen of possibilities. But the movie takes you there, slow but at the right speed. A writer looking for inspiration goes to her publisher's villa in France. A beautiful house, great vista, and a swimming pool -guess what, the title of the movie is swimming pool! But the night is pierced by a right of light called Julia, the publisher's daughter who's coming to stay for a while.
The relationship between Sarah and Julia starts to grow little by little, taking you there, just like good sex: no rush, exploring each other. Lot of signs in the movie, lot of clues to guide you through but, where are we going? Where are you taking me? No rush.
Once you get up from your seat, you can't but wonder about the whole movie. Once the credits come up and the lights are turned in you start thinking about the movie and start linking everything. Trying to make sense of it.
The movie itself is very well done: timing, picture, recreation, etc. Not to mention the actresses. Julia is an angel, no doubt about it. Is well worth watching and thinking about it.

Lolita (Movie)

Light of my eyes, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lolita.
What a movie, I won't give it 5 stars; this movie deserves the milky way!
So young, so cute, so innocent yet so sensual and passionate. So close yet so distant... What's in your mind Lolita? That's a tragic trip for Mr. Humbert, ever since he first saw her, that something that died with him when he was a 14-year old boy just got back. How could he leave her? So close, yet so distant. Talking about sacrifices, how about marry the mother of your love? Even though in the movie Melanie Griffith is not that bad, she certainly is a "cow" compared to her daughter.
Lolita grew tired of Mr. Hubert. He was just too old and too boring and lacked a lot of personality to keep up with such a child. Power combined with money is the best aphrodisiac, and Lolita felt for it in the figure of Mr. Quilty (yes, Quilty that rhymes with Guilty- "you took away my redemption!").
The farewell between Humbert and Lolita couldn't be more cold and distant. He gives her all and offers her all, and she doesn't even slaps him, she just sweeps him away like trash: "I would prefer to go back to Quilty", man, if that's not a kick in the nuts nothing is it.

Have you ever had your Lolita? So innocent, yet so sensual and passionate. So soft and tender, so mine all mine, but not completely mine. So much her, that hurts. Light of my eyes, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lolita.

The way to express her feelings is through touch and through a very careful flirt; and through her sensuality unknown to her. We as men full of testosterone see it as something different, we see it as lust.
Don't look at what the movie says; look at the feelings and emotions that it awakes in you. Who from the movie you love? Who you hate? Who you feel identify with? TOUCH is a very big part of the movie. Humbert is way lost even before they share their first night. She's cruel, she knows how to play and how to get what she wants. She intimidates him.
The whole thing about Lolita is that you don't know if she's doing it in purpose or just inncocently. Her innocence confronted with her sensuality makes her a bomb. In order to have her you'll kill and eat from the dead body if necessary. The concept of a 14-year old girl is more a "promotional/controversial" hook that anything else. A 21-year old Lolita wouldn't sell as good as a 14-year old one.

Better Friends than Money

That's what a remember the dad of a very good friend of mine told me one day -back then, in the good old days. Better friends than money. I have a friend who works for a store, a big store, those that sale everything you need to dive in a sea of red ink. Usually they have 25% disccount on clothes for employees, so I always choose what I want and give my friend -who works there- the money and she just picks it up and pay it.

The good news is that this weekend they are having a special sale for all employees were they are offered 20% on top of their 25% disccount, plus whatever disccount or special sale that is going on. So, all Ralph Lauren Polo shirts are currently 35% off, therefore I have to add (or subtract) the extra 45% that my friend has... good deal ah?

Better friends than money... both together: even better!

Wine and Pregnancy

I have a part-time job with a catering company and I just came back from a 6-hour party and I'm in pieces. Anyhow, I was working at the bar (bartending) and this girl came to me and asked for a glass of white wine, a very small glass of white wine. When I first saw her I thought she was pregnant, but when she asked me for the wine I kind of doubt it. You know, there is so many overweight people here in America that sometimes you kind of don't know what is going on. As my job as bartender is to serve drinks, treat people right and give'em whatever the heck they want, I poured her a very-VERY small glass of wine thinking that she was pregnant. When she saw it she went like "com'on, I said small but not that small" and then she went like "sooner or later he'll learn to drink so what the heck" and looked at her belly.

Man, I almost throw up. Don't you fuc**ng know that drinking while fuc**ng pregnant increases the risks of birth defect? Fu**! Is your baby what we are talking about, just the mere risk or the mere possibility of having birth defects should keep woman with more than 2 brain cells far from any alcoholic beverage.

This caught my attention because is the second time that I see it. Few months ago in another party, I saw another woman with a BIG belly and a glass of wine in her hand. That was the first time that I saw it LIVE and was an inch close to approach her and just read out loud the back of the bottle of wine where the warning is. WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE? I bet that being with an extra 10 or 15 pounds for 9 months and not being able to drink, smoke and get laid might get in some people's nerves, but we're talking about a baby that is just developing...

Now that I think about it, just one thing comes to my mind: Thanx God you made me man!

The Beginning / Miss Her (S)

The most logic thing would be to start this blogger by saying who I am, what I do and all that useless information. But I will start by saying that I miss her. I meet her back in 1999 when I came back from a trip to Asia and we took some classes together. I had seen her before and I knew who she was: a blonde hair girl, thin, not the most spectacular girl on this planet but also not the worst looking. She was a couple of semester behind me and she also had a boyfriend. Never meet her and never spoke to her. At that time I was busy with my friends and my own relationships and parties, and while in college one thing that there was plentiful of was girls. Once I meet her we became good friends, however my intentions were more than just a "beautiful friendship". There's an economic principle called "The Law of unintended Consequences" and we end up being best friends in our own way.
To make a long story short she came to visit me earlier this year for almost three weeks. I, her best friend. She, my best friend. Three weekends and two whole weeks -plus a couple of days together. We slept in the same bed. Friends, that's what we were -what we are. At the end of the second week and with just a weekend and few days before her departure, we decided to have some beers, some tequila shots with loud music; a little party singing and dancing like the good old times. We started the night fighting over a piece of lemon, and end up in the couch kissing each other and... Well, kissing, touching, groaning, discovering each other's. It was Magic, that's what best describes our encounter.
Haven't you felt that you had wanted something so bad, that when you finally got it, somehow, you had wanted it so much and for so long that is not really what you thought it was going to be? Let me make one thing clear: she kisses like heaven and her lips, soft skin, breasts, back, her softness, her passion mixed with some innocence is more than I was expecting. But, when I had her, didn't feel those butterflies fluttering in my stomach -and in my hands, fingers, legs, toes, in my head, my chest, back, shoulders as they did before.

Why? I could come up with a thousand reasons, but are reasons any important? Just came to my mind what Mark Renton the main character in Trainspotting said: "Reasons? There are no reasons. Who need reasons when you've got heroin". I've not got heroin or anything like that, but what are reasons for? To make a rational decision maybe? Or to justified what is going on? Hey, when the heart speaks, there are no reasons for it.
Nevertheless I miss her. Miss her company, her kisses and hugs. Miss myself taking care of her and making her feel special. Miss being there for her and miss getting to know her. Not by words "what is your favorite color?, what is your favorite movie? Miss trying to understand her: her fears and plans; her likes and dislikes; miss trying to figure out what she wants and what she doesn't want by just looking at her, by feeling her touch. Somedays I wake up and feel like if she had just left, somedays it seems that we haven't seen each other for ages, so distant.
There is an old saying that goes: "if you are in a hole, stop digging". I feel that I am in a hole when it comes to her, and I know that is just a matter of time, a matter of letting time and distance do their work to fill this emptiness with something and someone else. I know, as a matter of fact that that day will come, but somehow I want to stretch it out a bit longer to remember those times together. I want to stay in the hole for a little while before moving on.

What I really wanted to say today is that I'm missing her, so simple yet so complicated.

first

I'm not quite sure how this thing work -or doesn't work. This is just a first posting to see how my blogger looks like -if somehow it looks or looks-not. whatever.