...or is that my own mucus? I have a terrible cold, much worse than the one I had last winter. My head hurts, my sinuses are pounding, and my nose won't stop dripping. However, the muse kept me up for the better part of last night, something that always happens when I look at things like this : www.conceptart.org
There's a few drawings, paintings, and sculptures I want to get round to, but I just haven't the time or the materials. Last night I kept thinking about drawing myself as Insomniatica, (guess what her pet peeve is) with her long, flat, messy, hair, dark bags under her eyes, and pajamas that just won't fit comfortably; possibly worshiping comatose at her computer, not quite giving into sleep but hardly in the realm of conscious thought either.
The other project that came to me last night will be called "Venus in Furs" or "Diana versus Aphrodite". I want to paint one of my virginal classmates surrounded by menacing wolves. "What is it with the wolf thing?", you might ask. Yes I know I'm obsessed, and I already made a giant she wolf hybrid sculpture, but surely you can never have enough of a good thing?
I saw the esclafowne movie last week and I have to say I was terribly disappointed with the plot and character development, everyone seemed a bit 2 dimensional and pointless. Although the animation was beautiful, if a bit dark at times.
I've been imagining weird people and faeries all week. I think I overloaded the left side of my brain with university and it's time for the Revenge of the Right Hemisphere. This morning while I was driving the kids to school there were three long clouds in the sky, it looked like there was a giant angel standing far away on the other side of the city, it's wings outstretched towards heaven. The third cloud was long and thin, reminding me of Longinus's spear, brandished towards some unseen enemy. When I got a second glimpse the clouds had risen higher into the air with the sun shinning through one of the wings; it was a truly beautiful sight. And yes, I've seen one episode too many of Evagelion by the looks of things.
Edit: Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, I'm glad I came back to check this post. It was full of truly nonhabitual spelling mistakes, and I wrote it exactly like I would have said it, FAST. Throw caution and punctuation to the wind I say!
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Friday, October 21, 2005
Ladeeda
Just a quick update to appease my fans (well okay Rachel and Eric, who I love dearly, and not just because they read my blog). University is going well, just had a communication exam out of the twilight zone. It was about non verbal communication, and the teacher gave me the most unrelated questions, at least in relation to the study guide. Are eating disorders social problems? Then again I shouldn't complain it was an easy 10 - I love verbal exams!
Phone bill came in the mail today X_X. I've made 40 dlrs worth of calls to the rockstar's mobile phone, and am in deep trouble as a result. Dad hasn't seen it yet so I'm looking for daring and foolish ideas to avoid punishment. The best one so far has been hiding the bill, raising the money with a garage sale and paying it myself. The easiest alternative, if utterly unpleasant, would be to listen to the lecture....I think I might sleep on it over the weekend...
William had his first proper barf. It was very scary, like the one in the exorcist except it was yellow. Speaking of which, I have to go pick him up from daycare, but I'll post more tomorrow.
Phone bill came in the mail today X_X. I've made 40 dlrs worth of calls to the rockstar's mobile phone, and am in deep trouble as a result. Dad hasn't seen it yet so I'm looking for daring and foolish ideas to avoid punishment. The best one so far has been hiding the bill, raising the money with a garage sale and paying it myself. The easiest alternative, if utterly unpleasant, would be to listen to the lecture....I think I might sleep on it over the weekend...
William had his first proper barf. It was very scary, like the one in the exorcist except it was yellow. Speaking of which, I have to go pick him up from daycare, but I'll post more tomorrow.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
The Adventures of Gorgeous Chaparrita and Awesome Rocker
People reading this outside of Mexico will find this hilarious. I laughed for about half an hour straight when it was explained to me, although my Mexican readers might wonder: "What's so bloody funny, pendeja?"
There are a couple of factors in Mexican culture that make it quite unlikely anyone that isn't married is going to be able to have sex at home. For starters most people live with their parents till they get married, especially women. There is a small number of professionals that move out, but that's a minority that tends to be over 30. Second, more likely than not, there's usually going to be someone at home since a lot of women are still home makers and most families have at least 2 or 3 children.
Then there's the morality issue (or the pretending to have morality issue, at least). Mexico is a Catholic country and we get a bit carried away sometimes. Well not really we, I'm not even baptized (which makes me the spawn of the devil as far as most people here are concerned). Having sex before marriage is generally frowned upon, again, particularly if you're a woman. Getting caught at home would probably involve either getting kicked out or being locked in for the next 2 years. I'm possibly exaggerating, but in any case one would be in BIG trouble. And anyhow, who wants to get caught doing it by their parents?
So does everyone abstain and behave like good little chaste boys and girls? Not on your life. Fortunately, some enterprising soul came up with motels. Motels, you ask? Aren't those like hotels except you park right outside your room? Not here. You want somewhere to spend the night you go to a hotel. You want somewhere for a little privacy and love (okay, imagine Barry White's voice for this), you go down to a motel, baby.
I always wondered why all the Motels around here have really high walls. The layout is basically the same, one drives in, pays up at a window (or someone comes out to get the money), and is given a number. The number indicates what garage one's going to drive into. They have little automatic doors to eliminate the worry about anyone seeing your car at a motel, tsk tsk. These places charge about 26 dollars for 9 hours for a simple room. A suite with a jacuzzi will cost twice as much. Quite the business. Maybe not as good as sitting outside with a camera and blackmailing people though.
There are a couple of factors in Mexican culture that make it quite unlikely anyone that isn't married is going to be able to have sex at home. For starters most people live with their parents till they get married, especially women. There is a small number of professionals that move out, but that's a minority that tends to be over 30. Second, more likely than not, there's usually going to be someone at home since a lot of women are still home makers and most families have at least 2 or 3 children.
Then there's the morality issue (or the pretending to have morality issue, at least). Mexico is a Catholic country and we get a bit carried away sometimes. Well not really we, I'm not even baptized (which makes me the spawn of the devil as far as most people here are concerned). Having sex before marriage is generally frowned upon, again, particularly if you're a woman. Getting caught at home would probably involve either getting kicked out or being locked in for the next 2 years. I'm possibly exaggerating, but in any case one would be in BIG trouble. And anyhow, who wants to get caught doing it by their parents?
So does everyone abstain and behave like good little chaste boys and girls? Not on your life. Fortunately, some enterprising soul came up with motels. Motels, you ask? Aren't those like hotels except you park right outside your room? Not here. You want somewhere to spend the night you go to a hotel. You want somewhere for a little privacy and love (okay, imagine Barry White's voice for this), you go down to a motel, baby.
I always wondered why all the Motels around here have really high walls. The layout is basically the same, one drives in, pays up at a window (or someone comes out to get the money), and is given a number. The number indicates what garage one's going to drive into. They have little automatic doors to eliminate the worry about anyone seeing your car at a motel, tsk tsk. These places charge about 26 dollars for 9 hours for a simple room. A suite with a jacuzzi will cost twice as much. Quite the business. Maybe not as good as sitting outside with a camera and blackmailing people though.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Oh Dear...
Mmmm have I mentioned I'm paranoid? And I'm not even clever enough to do it undercover. I feel like Charlie Brown some days, I seem to worry about all the wrong people and especially about all the wrong, insignificant, off hand comments. I'll analyze till I've time-space traveled through every possible Universe and then some. Basically, I though R had fibbed about being a good little English teacher and going to do his lesson plans, when he was actually planning on going to see footie with a friend. In fact, although he did go watch the footie, he hadn't planned to apparently, and to be fair, I have no reason to doubt him...except for THAT phone call...but see, there I go doing it again. In any case, I take it all back, not all men are lying scumbags. Just most of them.
In other news, I had a nice weekend, Friday involved clubbing as usual, me and co. went to the Ole Caribe (How quaint, no?); Saturday R's band played at the Pedro's a.k.a. Peter's house, which was really neat. There was a guy there so high, I have to wonder if space cowboy ever came down. I also met Tania's sister in law, Nayeli who is lovely and is going to do my nails, and Isella (I think that's how you spell it) who was really nice. And I'm not just saying that because she called me linda. All in all, people I want to see again.
Sunday involved attempting to clean the house again, but we have chaos and filth sprites who disagree. I swear I clean a room and the second I leave for a moment it goes right back to how it was. The fact that we have a baby in the house can't have anything to do with it...can it? I also went to a great seafood restaurant, " La Bahia" with William and R. We had cocktails and oysters. I absolutely love oysters, I think they're fantabulous. And I like chewing them too, I don't give a toss how one's supposed to eat them. Question: Is my fake British accent as good as Madonna's? Take into account I don't have a voice coach. I also went into paranoia overdrive as mentioned above, which was spurred on by a little phone conversation, which was itself ignited by a little football match: Mexico vs. Brazil. And guess what? WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS! Yes, MEXICO is now world champion! Hurrah! Okay so it was the under 17's division, but that doesn't matter, they'll be playing in the big leagues soon enough.
I have a problem. I want to kill someone. Genuinely. Who do you think it might be? Answers on a postcard to the usual address. I'm not going to kill them, but for all the wrong reasons and it's bothering me. In a nutshell, one of my mom's friend's husbands seems to have been raping their 3 year and 9 month old girls, and has been definately sleeping with his 15 year old niece. It doesn't look like anyone is going to do anything to put the bastard behind bars and who's to say he won't go and do it again. I keep trying to remember that all human life has worth and that it's not my place in the grand scheme of things to go avenge anything, much as I'd like to be Batman or The Punisher in my comic book fed fantasy world. But I could, if I wanted to and without risking myself too much. Well though out plans involving poison, self defense or a pig farm could all do the trick...so why don't I? I have no illusions that I'm overcoming my base instincts and am deep down a noble soul. Maybe I'm just scared that if I cross that line nothing will be the same again. Maybe I'll want to kill more people. Maybe the fact that he's a total jerk and deserves it is just an excuse? Maybe I'm just full of my own bullshit.
I talked to my dad about how I was feeling, and he gave me the standard issue,
-"It's none of your business, hopefully the wife will talk to the police, leave it up to the Big Man in the Sky."
I think that is too much of a cop out, and I told him so,
-"But I don't trust the Big Man."
-" That is the source of all your sorrows, and it will continue to be until you entrust yourself to him."
WTF!? Why is it so wrong that I want to take responsibility for myself and my surroundings. I don't think leaving everything up to the will of some figment of some Jew's imagination is going to fix anything. For the mean time, I'm trying to remind myself why killing other human beings is wrong...
I thought I heard little stones tapping at my window. I'm given to romantic flights of fancy of that sort. But alas, the street is empty and there's no heavyweight jumping beans sitting on my window ledge.
In other news, I had a nice weekend, Friday involved clubbing as usual, me and co. went to the Ole Caribe (How quaint, no?); Saturday R's band played at the Pedro's a.k.a. Peter's house, which was really neat. There was a guy there so high, I have to wonder if space cowboy ever came down. I also met Tania's sister in law, Nayeli who is lovely and is going to do my nails, and Isella (I think that's how you spell it) who was really nice. And I'm not just saying that because she called me linda. All in all, people I want to see again.
Sunday involved attempting to clean the house again, but we have chaos and filth sprites who disagree. I swear I clean a room and the second I leave for a moment it goes right back to how it was. The fact that we have a baby in the house can't have anything to do with it...can it? I also went to a great seafood restaurant, " La Bahia" with William and R. We had cocktails and oysters. I absolutely love oysters, I think they're fantabulous. And I like chewing them too, I don't give a toss how one's supposed to eat them. Question: Is my fake British accent as good as Madonna's? Take into account I don't have a voice coach. I also went into paranoia overdrive as mentioned above, which was spurred on by a little phone conversation, which was itself ignited by a little football match: Mexico vs. Brazil. And guess what? WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS! Yes, MEXICO is now world champion! Hurrah! Okay so it was the under 17's division, but that doesn't matter, they'll be playing in the big leagues soon enough.
I have a problem. I want to kill someone. Genuinely. Who do you think it might be? Answers on a postcard to the usual address. I'm not going to kill them, but for all the wrong reasons and it's bothering me. In a nutshell, one of my mom's friend's husbands seems to have been raping their 3 year and 9 month old girls, and has been definately sleeping with his 15 year old niece. It doesn't look like anyone is going to do anything to put the bastard behind bars and who's to say he won't go and do it again. I keep trying to remember that all human life has worth and that it's not my place in the grand scheme of things to go avenge anything, much as I'd like to be Batman or The Punisher in my comic book fed fantasy world. But I could, if I wanted to and without risking myself too much. Well though out plans involving poison, self defense or a pig farm could all do the trick...so why don't I? I have no illusions that I'm overcoming my base instincts and am deep down a noble soul. Maybe I'm just scared that if I cross that line nothing will be the same again. Maybe I'll want to kill more people. Maybe the fact that he's a total jerk and deserves it is just an excuse? Maybe I'm just full of my own bullshit.
I talked to my dad about how I was feeling, and he gave me the standard issue,
-"It's none of your business, hopefully the wife will talk to the police, leave it up to the Big Man in the Sky."
I think that is too much of a cop out, and I told him so,
-"But I don't trust the Big Man."
-" That is the source of all your sorrows, and it will continue to be until you entrust yourself to him."
WTF!? Why is it so wrong that I want to take responsibility for myself and my surroundings. I don't think leaving everything up to the will of some figment of some Jew's imagination is going to fix anything. For the mean time, I'm trying to remind myself why killing other human beings is wrong...
I thought I heard little stones tapping at my window. I'm given to romantic flights of fancy of that sort. But alas, the street is empty and there's no heavyweight jumping beans sitting on my window ledge.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
A Little Bird Told Me
There's a fair in Mexicali, the Sun Parties or for a better, less literal translation, the Sun Celebrations. So far so good, it's considered quite Naco, but I love fairs. They're full of people and rusty machines, and clever gypsies that you just know will fleece you for all they can, but you play along anyways.
I really should have been at home preparing a presentation for Uni, but my mum had already promised my little brother and sister that I'd take them for me. What harm is another night of labouring away at the computer with no sort of sleep, R.E.M. or otherwise, going to do? We ran around the fair just looking at everything, argued about children not straying too far, stood around the candy floss machine waiting for little webs of diabetes inducing floss to float by, etc. Naty and Andy got to go on a couple of rides, and play a few dodgy luck games. I think thy had a good time, and so did William. It was his first fair and he got to walk around a bit too and get dazzled by all the lights. Oh I nearly forgot, there was a stand from the local zoo as well and we got to pet a baby camel and a python. William's favourite was a puma in a cage though, he got all excited and started bouncing up and down and schreeching at the kitty, who seemed absolutely nonplused.
While we were walking around I spotted a fortune teller, so of course I had to go see what the canary had in store for me. No, that's not a typo, a bird told me my fortune. People carry them around in cute, colorful, little, wooden cages nailed to a board with a stick for support and a little box full of folded up printed fortunes. The little bird pops out as soon as the door is opened and picks a fortune, and sometimes they'll do a little routine as well. They're trained to pull little toy cars, ring little bells, chug back little toy cups and pick up little hats. It was one of my favourite things about going to an art market with my mom and aunt when I was younger, and I wanted William to have a look. He was mesmerized by the birds, even though they didn't do a show. My fortune read:
I really should have been at home preparing a presentation for Uni, but my mum had already promised my little brother and sister that I'd take them for me. What harm is another night of labouring away at the computer with no sort of sleep, R.E.M. or otherwise, going to do? We ran around the fair just looking at everything, argued about children not straying too far, stood around the candy floss machine waiting for little webs of diabetes inducing floss to float by, etc. Naty and Andy got to go on a couple of rides, and play a few dodgy luck games. I think thy had a good time, and so did William. It was his first fair and he got to walk around a bit too and get dazzled by all the lights. Oh I nearly forgot, there was a stand from the local zoo as well and we got to pet a baby camel and a python. William's favourite was a puma in a cage though, he got all excited and started bouncing up and down and schreeching at the kitty, who seemed absolutely nonplused.
While we were walking around I spotted a fortune teller, so of course I had to go see what the canary had in store for me. No, that's not a typo, a bird told me my fortune. People carry them around in cute, colorful, little, wooden cages nailed to a board with a stick for support and a little box full of folded up printed fortunes. The little bird pops out as soon as the door is opened and picks a fortune, and sometimes they'll do a little routine as well. They're trained to pull little toy cars, ring little bells, chug back little toy cups and pick up little hats. It was one of my favourite things about going to an art market with my mom and aunt when I was younger, and I wanted William to have a look. He was mesmerized by the birds, even though they didn't do a show. My fortune read:
FORTUNE STAR
SPECIAL
Your love is corresponded,
the person that you love only thinks about you day and night,
don't stop loving them intensely for they will give you the
keys with which you will open the road to happiness,
you must be faithfull to them since shattering their affection
would be betraying your own heart.
I have more to tell you...
It should have really read something more like: "You're about to get robbed!" The fortune teller said there were three boys deeply in love with me and that I had to choose one of them, the one I loved the most. But I should be careful, because there is a girl who is envious of me and she was getting in the way of my happiness. If I wanted to know which boy to pick, and how to get rid of the green goblin, I had to buy 9 other little fortune papers for 250 pesos. That's roughly 25 dollars, which is roughly 12.50 pounds sterling. I told him I had enough with the first fortune and wanted to enjoy the mystery of not kowing. "Suit yourself" he said, and charged me 50 pesos for the priviledge, which is about 5 dollars, which itself is about 2.50 pounds. It might not seem like much, but you can have a small meal with that amount here, and I thought it was a bit steep, but I payed up anyways.
You see, I hate arguing about prices, and I'd already broken the two cardinal rules of aquiring goods and services at a fair:
1) Never ask "How much do I owe you?". If you do you're giving them an open invitation to set a high price.
2) Always look around before buying that way you know what the going price for things is. I later found out everyone else was charging 10 pesos for the fortune telling, which is about a dollar, or 50 pence for you Limeys.
In any case I wasn't too miffed, and I hope the old man put the money to good use.
We rounded things up with vanilla ice lollies, much more pleasant that the rounding up I must go do know, involving putting mole in the fridge, washing a pair of socks for William, cleaning his shoes, and cutting his nails. I've got the flu to boot and its already 12:13 am...
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Chicken Little
I just got home. I only had to walk four blocks, but it's 11 a.m. and already the sun was cooking the top of my head. I'm tired, I'm dusty and I'm annoyed at the human race. More specifically at one half, (a little less than half actually, so watch it, we have you outnumbered) you know who you are. Due to the macho culture here in Mexico, I just had to put up with about a dozen idiot's remarks and whistles of admiration for me. This isn't even much of a vanity lift, becuase these are guys that would probably screw their own cousin, even if she was fat and ugly. And what's the deal with whistles anyway? Where do they think that's going to get them anyways? One whistle and I'm supposed to hop in their car and fulfill their wildest fantasies? Go look for Fido you twits. At least during my morning walk to school I get kisses blown at me, I guess they're in a more romantic mood. Mind you, they're disgusting sloppy wet kisses, so it's not much of an improvement.
Monday, September 26, 2005
My computer ate the title...
Be warned, you are not about to go weak at the knees with envy of my weekend. This post is probably only for die hard Silvia fans...and psychologists...and the FBI.. oh okay, you can all stay and read it. Friday was easy going, I was meant to go clubbing but, couldn't be bothered at the end because of time, money, and some of the company. Stayed in with R instead and watched "Team America", fuck yeah!, and "the Hitchhicker's Guide to the Galaxy". I'd been wanting to watch both films for a long time, and I was not dissapointed. Trey and Matt really outdid themselves, I couldn't stop laughing and singing "America, fuck yeah!". About half an hour at Uni today was dedicated to talking about it with my classmates. So much for higher education.
The "Hitchhicker's guide to the Galaxy" is amazing, I think Douglas Adams would have been happy with it. Marvin is my favourite depresed robot of all time. I want to see both films again in Spanish, it would be quite interesting to see what they do to replace the English slang.
Saturday I stayed in because William had a cold and was being quite miserable about it, so I stayed in bedwatching "Snatch" with him. Well, not watching it with him, he was asleep, I'm not that BAD of a mother. I love England, and all the weird accents that live there, so this film just does it for me, but I reccomend it for anyone with a sense of humour and a penchant for gangsters.
Sunday was GREAT. Why is for you to ponder and me to know! This tidbit of info would have you going green with envy, but is of a slightly personal nature, sooo....
And today was also good, if not as spectacular as yesterday. Some idiot in Thought Development left their mobile on, and then wouldn't fess up, so the teacher dismissed us all, thus ruining my perfect record in this class. I'll be writting up the excommuncation papers later this afternoon...
Typing about writting up, I was cleaning up my room yesterday and found something I'd put down on paper a couple of years ago. At the time I thought it was rubbish sentimental crap, and I'm surprised I didn't throw it away. I still don't think it's particularly good, but it's not THAT bad. It gave me a good insight to how my brain worked when i was 17, and it's always nice to read stuff like that. Im putting it up for public scrutiny and just in case the paper copy gets lost, which wouldn't be unusual since I go through phases of getting rid of most everything I own, except for two changes of clothes and my books. This is due to traveling much, and a deep rooted hate of packing.
Theory of the Thermodinamics of Love
1st Law
When one is in love, the prescence of the object of one's affections produces lightheartedness, the so called"butterflies in the stomach" effect, and in most cases, an irrationalgood faith towards the human race. These are all side effects of the emotional heat energy that causes the heart to expand. This expansion is proportional to the love felt.
2nd Law
Emotional or physical distance between the person who is in love and the person thay are in love with produces the loss of of emotional heat. As a result, the atoms of the heart cluster together and the heart shrinks. Symptoms of this "heartache" are sadness, a feeling of heaviness in one's breast, and a sense of desperation. Shrinkage is proportional to the distance between the two figures involved in the romantic reaction.
3rd Law
Repetitive expansion and contraction will, over a long period of time or in frequent succession, result in the weakning of the heart's walls. This will, with certainty, allow the development of fissures, cracks and breakages of the heart.
The "Hitchhicker's guide to the Galaxy" is amazing, I think Douglas Adams would have been happy with it. Marvin is my favourite depresed robot of all time. I want to see both films again in Spanish, it would be quite interesting to see what they do to replace the English slang.
Saturday I stayed in because William had a cold and was being quite miserable about it, so I stayed in bedwatching "Snatch" with him. Well, not watching it with him, he was asleep, I'm not that BAD of a mother. I love England, and all the weird accents that live there, so this film just does it for me, but I reccomend it for anyone with a sense of humour and a penchant for gangsters.
Sunday was GREAT. Why is for you to ponder and me to know! This tidbit of info would have you going green with envy, but is of a slightly personal nature, sooo....
And today was also good, if not as spectacular as yesterday. Some idiot in Thought Development left their mobile on, and then wouldn't fess up, so the teacher dismissed us all, thus ruining my perfect record in this class. I'll be writting up the excommuncation papers later this afternoon...
Typing about writting up, I was cleaning up my room yesterday and found something I'd put down on paper a couple of years ago. At the time I thought it was rubbish sentimental crap, and I'm surprised I didn't throw it away. I still don't think it's particularly good, but it's not THAT bad. It gave me a good insight to how my brain worked when i was 17, and it's always nice to read stuff like that. Im putting it up for public scrutiny and just in case the paper copy gets lost, which wouldn't be unusual since I go through phases of getting rid of most everything I own, except for two changes of clothes and my books. This is due to traveling much, and a deep rooted hate of packing.
Theory of the Thermodinamics of Love
1st Law
When one is in love, the prescence of the object of one's affections produces lightheartedness, the so called"butterflies in the stomach" effect, and in most cases, an irrationalgood faith towards the human race. These are all side effects of the emotional heat energy that causes the heart to expand. This expansion is proportional to the love felt.
2nd Law
Emotional or physical distance between the person who is in love and the person thay are in love with produces the loss of of emotional heat. As a result, the atoms of the heart cluster together and the heart shrinks. Symptoms of this "heartache" are sadness, a feeling of heaviness in one's breast, and a sense of desperation. Shrinkage is proportional to the distance between the two figures involved in the romantic reaction.
3rd Law
Repetitive expansion and contraction will, over a long period of time or in frequent succession, result in the weakning of the heart's walls. This will, with certainty, allow the development of fissures, cracks and breakages of the heart.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Utopian Dream
The latest accusation from my Economic Structure teacher: I'm a Utopian Dreamer. Yes, even I know I'm naive for even imagining that 3rd world countries could infect 1st world countries with a desire to be humanitarian and give up their wealth grubbing ways, but I still like to think it could happen. Maybe I cling to that idea, because even though it is highly unrealistic, and I know that there is no such thing as the innate goodness of man, even that is more tolerable than violence. I'm not a pacifist really, I'm just as likely to clobber someone as the next girl. But the idea of actually doing grieveous bodily harm, killing, displacing families etc, I just couldn't do it.
Mmm, there were about a million things I wanted to post last night, and now that I'm here, sitting with my beloved computer, my brain seems to have dried up and died...so instead here's my evil doodles for the day. The first one is Snow White and 2 of the Seven dwarves. The second one is a strange little bird that came to me during IT class.
Mmm, there were about a million things I wanted to post last night, and now that I'm here, sitting with my beloved computer, my brain seems to have dried up and died...so instead here's my evil doodles for the day. The first one is Snow White and 2 of the Seven dwarves. The second one is a strange little bird that came to me during IT class.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Why only half?
Apparently I'm half-cocked...who would've known?
http://www.okcupid.com/personality?type=RBSD&g=2&o=1&h=180
Now I must stop taking testS...must resist...oh okay, but just one more..
No, really this is the last one...
I had to delete the angel/demon test because it was messing around with my layout. It basically said " You're the bisexual of the morality scale." I had a 50% Morality, neither evil or good. It is better to be a free spirit, than reign in hell or serve in heaven.
http://www.okcupid.com/personality?type=RBSD&g=2&o=1&h=180
Now I must stop taking testS...must resist...oh okay, but just one more..
No, really this is the last one...
I had to delete the angel/demon test because it was messing around with my layout. It basically said " You're the bisexual of the morality scale." I had a 50% Morality, neither evil or good. It is better to be a free spirit, than reign in hell or serve in heaven.
Your Tax Money at Work
I just managed to interupt a class presentation by showing up late, swinging the door wide open and standing there like a deer in headlights. It´s my worst class to boot, Text elaboration. And not because I can´t elaborate text, it´s just I find the teacher´s technique extremely boring. In any case I didn´t have the nerve to waltz in so I´m in the library, making good use of the IT facilities and posting here.
Wednesday night was good, R and I went to see "Cinderella Man". Straight off the bat, it´s a movie about a boxer, and normally I can´t stand sports themed movies, but this one was passable due to the intertwined theme of the Depression. I still wouldn´t recommend it, there seems to be some attempt at making the man in question the poor man´s champion, but he then goes and gives his benefit money back as soon as he can pay it. Excuse me? That´s his money anyway, that is what he´s been paying taxes for his whole damn life. That said, there wasn´t much else of interest showing, I got more excitement from the¨"Coming Soon" posters. "V for Vendetta" will be showing in a couple of months, I can´t wait.
Yesterday was slightly heartbreaking. I took William to daycare and he couldn´t wait to get out of the car. Normally he´s already making pouty faces and clinging on to me for dear life. But yesterday he was bouncy all the way across the yard, through the door, and nearly tried to wriggle out of my arms. One of the nannies took him and he was fine. He even started waving goodbye before I´d even started for the door. I know I should be pleased he´s adapting so well, and am, I´m even proud of the spunky little fellow. But at the same time it kind of hurts. I don´t even want to think about what´s going to happen when he gets a girlfriend...I´ll most likely become slightly murderous.
I want to take street art to the next level, 3D mainly. I think thousands of little sculptures superglued to walls, floors, trees and bathroom doors all over the city would be an interesting excercise, maybe one to get us out of the black and white sticker rut we´re in (Interesting Fact of the day: Did you know that rut is also another word for intercourse?). Let´s hope this isn´t another artistic idea that goes in the "Later" mental bin, like traditional toys made out of giant Lego blocks, and the giant collage on my bedroom wall made up mostly of blank space. Yeeesss I´m a minimalist, really... Will Buy Time Machine, Any Price. Red model preferably, exchange for ostrich farm in Argentina. I´m looking at you Rachel, stop wasting your time with University and make me one.
And to show off my time wasting skills, here a test:
Wednesday night was good, R and I went to see "Cinderella Man". Straight off the bat, it´s a movie about a boxer, and normally I can´t stand sports themed movies, but this one was passable due to the intertwined theme of the Depression. I still wouldn´t recommend it, there seems to be some attempt at making the man in question the poor man´s champion, but he then goes and gives his benefit money back as soon as he can pay it. Excuse me? That´s his money anyway, that is what he´s been paying taxes for his whole damn life. That said, there wasn´t much else of interest showing, I got more excitement from the¨"Coming Soon" posters. "V for Vendetta" will be showing in a couple of months, I can´t wait.
Yesterday was slightly heartbreaking. I took William to daycare and he couldn´t wait to get out of the car. Normally he´s already making pouty faces and clinging on to me for dear life. But yesterday he was bouncy all the way across the yard, through the door, and nearly tried to wriggle out of my arms. One of the nannies took him and he was fine. He even started waving goodbye before I´d even started for the door. I know I should be pleased he´s adapting so well, and am, I´m even proud of the spunky little fellow. But at the same time it kind of hurts. I don´t even want to think about what´s going to happen when he gets a girlfriend...I´ll most likely become slightly murderous.
I want to take street art to the next level, 3D mainly. I think thousands of little sculptures superglued to walls, floors, trees and bathroom doors all over the city would be an interesting excercise, maybe one to get us out of the black and white sticker rut we´re in (Interesting Fact of the day: Did you know that rut is also another word for intercourse?). Let´s hope this isn´t another artistic idea that goes in the "Later" mental bin, like traditional toys made out of giant Lego blocks, and the giant collage on my bedroom wall made up mostly of blank space. Yeeesss I´m a minimalist, really... Will Buy Time Machine, Any Price. Red model preferably, exchange for ostrich farm in Argentina. I´m looking at you Rachel, stop wasting your time with University and make me one.
And to show off my time wasting skills, here a test:
| You are a Social Liberal (85% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (3% permissive) You are best described as a:
Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid |
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Monday to Friday my love is yours, leave Saturday as my own...
Update on the seashells, turns out they're sandollars. I've been handing them out as tokens of my affection, and I've got a few jewelerry projects lined up for the little darlings. And for my eco warrior friends out there, no need to worry (or burn down my house for that matter), they were all already dead.
In other news, monday was pretty good, my human thought development teachers dubbed me "Silvia, who knows everything." Shame we had to disagree on the meaning of Chimera. I went for the mythical beastly, while he went for wild utopian hopes, and we're both right...right? In any case, he just won himself a conmemorative, framed chimera drawing and definition. Not to mention that I already owe him a bottle of red wine (don't ask).
Yesterday was quite hectic, I had loads of homework and an english test at uni, notr to mention that it rained. What is a little rain you might say. A lot, here in Mexicali. The population here can take earthquakes, temperatures up to 50 degress and drug dealers, but if it rains all hell breaks loose, unpaved streets flood and ceilings drip. It's well worth the thunder display though.
No class tomorrow, because my teachers are too cool for school! Well one of them is, and the other one will be testing my classmates, I already had my test, so I'm scott free. Might go see a film tonight, but can't find one I fancy much.
I love Rasputina...
www.rasputina.com/
Monday, September 19, 2005
How We Quit the Forest...
...or My Ordinary Weekend. No school last friday! Wohoo, a great thing we must thank our country's forefathers for. Oh and that we have an independent country or some such as well...
Thursday the whole family was supposed to go downtown for the Idependence Day Yell (it sounds better in Spanish, El Grito, trust me), but we all overslpet, and although we woke up in time to go catch it, most of us couldn't be bothered to go. What happened to sleep is for the dead?
The next day Dad ordered us to grab our swuimsuits and get in the car, we were going to San Felipe, a little tourist resort and fishing port south of Mexicali.This is a huge improvement from previous years in which we were ordered to just get in the car, and anyone who asked where we were headed just received a snigger and a "You'll see." We never new if we were going to the seaside or an execution.
It was a nice day, we ate coconuts, pineapples, chicken, and tamales, then we headed down to the beach and splashed around. My son, William, loves swimming in the sea, he runs up and down the beach squealing with joy and splashing around. I know it's cliched, but seeing him happy makes me even happier.
A man dropped out of the sky in a motorcycle-glyder hybrid beast with purple wings, and offered rides for 45 dollars, which was quickly cut down to 25. What the hell, there's worse ways to die than plumeting into a beach with a complete stranger, so I payed up and got on the strange craft. It must be fun to be a bird, gliding up there and loosing all perspective of just how far away from the ground youre getting. I am distinctly not a bird (although if I was I'd be a magpie or two), and every time a little breeze hit us, my stomach would jolt into my throat and I could literally feel the adrenaline shooting through my veins. Much better than any rollercoaster I've ever been on. Coming down was the best part, the guy turned the motor off and manouvered to the ground in a spiral.
The tide recedes a fair distance from the beach in San Felo, and we all walked along the little streams of water, watching out for the crabs (Did you know they're cannibals?!)I collected about fifty flat shells with stars in the middle, gorgeous little dead things. I have no idea what they're called and the ineternet isn't yielding a name just yet.
Saturday was slightly more mundane and involved house cleaning, homework doing, and going to see R's band, "Maze". They're pretty good, if I can say so myself, but that might have just been the lust and the beer talking. If they ever get a webpage online I'll put it up for others to judge.
Viva Mexico!
Thursday the whole family was supposed to go downtown for the Idependence Day Yell (it sounds better in Spanish, El Grito, trust me), but we all overslpet, and although we woke up in time to go catch it, most of us couldn't be bothered to go. What happened to sleep is for the dead?
The next day Dad ordered us to grab our swuimsuits and get in the car, we were going to San Felipe, a little tourist resort and fishing port south of Mexicali.This is a huge improvement from previous years in which we were ordered to just get in the car, and anyone who asked where we were headed just received a snigger and a "You'll see." We never new if we were going to the seaside or an execution.
It was a nice day, we ate coconuts, pineapples, chicken, and tamales, then we headed down to the beach and splashed around. My son, William, loves swimming in the sea, he runs up and down the beach squealing with joy and splashing around. I know it's cliched, but seeing him happy makes me even happier.
A man dropped out of the sky in a motorcycle-glyder hybrid beast with purple wings, and offered rides for 45 dollars, which was quickly cut down to 25. What the hell, there's worse ways to die than plumeting into a beach with a complete stranger, so I payed up and got on the strange craft. It must be fun to be a bird, gliding up there and loosing all perspective of just how far away from the ground youre getting. I am distinctly not a bird (although if I was I'd be a magpie or two), and every time a little breeze hit us, my stomach would jolt into my throat and I could literally feel the adrenaline shooting through my veins. Much better than any rollercoaster I've ever been on. Coming down was the best part, the guy turned the motor off and manouvered to the ground in a spiral.
The tide recedes a fair distance from the beach in San Felo, and we all walked along the little streams of water, watching out for the crabs (Did you know they're cannibals?!)I collected about fifty flat shells with stars in the middle, gorgeous little dead things. I have no idea what they're called and the ineternet isn't yielding a name just yet.
Saturday was slightly more mundane and involved house cleaning, homework doing, and going to see R's band, "Maze". They're pretty good, if I can say so myself, but that might have just been the lust and the beer talking. If they ever get a webpage online I'll put it up for others to judge.
Viva Mexico!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
21 Years of Me on the Wall, 21 Years of Me...
I turned 21 on Monday and it's been a really weird week so far. The Friday beforehand I went out clubbing with some friends...and some friends of friends I'm not all that fond of, but hey, live and let live...and had a great time. The place we went to, BOA, was a bit empty though so we headed for a private party and stopped for hot dogs on the way. I ate no hot dog buns, of course.
Hot dog buns, apples and Trojans
After that, as part of a great quest to find toiletes, my friend, who shall be known only as R, and I ended up in another bar. And to make a long story short, I am now commiting one of the dating capital crimes: going out with a friend. No good can come of this, right? It doesn't help that I was in the middle of taking a vacation from relationships...but I can't wait to see him again, and I jump whenever the phone rings, soooo...
Saturday involved more celebrating, I had a little party at my place. In the early evening I had some little friends over to celebrate my son's birthday as well, although it'd been a couple of weeks earlier. No one's hair went up in flames, so I'm considering it a success. People came over, ate drank, and were merry, and nobody died the next day. It was all good. Although I need to point out, if any of you guys are reading this, that next year I better get some presents! Except for Tania and Eli of course who were nice enough to bring me stuff. No, bringing yourself is not a gift unless you're Brad Pitt, Kevin Smith or Neil Gaiman...I hope you're all taking note as to what I want for next year.
Sunday was a day of rest, Mum , William and I hung out at my cousin Marina's place and did nothing all day, except gossip. Mum thinks R is a great friend, but absolutely out of the question when it comes to boyfriend material, so I think I won't mention friday to her.
Monday I went out for dinner with the whole family, to a great Japanese place called Sakura, and ate waaay too much tepanyaki and Miso soup. My kingdom for a bowl of Miso! Tuesday we had a girls only celbration, with lots of chocolate cake, because my mum simply wanted to. And celbrations have died down since then, but it's Independence Day tomorrow, so this weekend should be pretty wild too.
My birthday dinner @ Sakura's
Noses are smaller than they appear.
Normally birthdays involve wondering what's so different from one number to the next, but this year I can feel it, something weird is going on. I actually feel different, and I don't think it's just the urge to drive over the border and a have a legal beer in the U.S.of A. No, it might have something to do with brain circuits? Maybe it is a case for Mulder and Scully. In any case I need to go cook now...
Hot dog buns, apples and Trojans
After that, as part of a great quest to find toiletes, my friend, who shall be known only as R, and I ended up in another bar. And to make a long story short, I am now commiting one of the dating capital crimes: going out with a friend. No good can come of this, right? It doesn't help that I was in the middle of taking a vacation from relationships...but I can't wait to see him again, and I jump whenever the phone rings, soooo...
Saturday involved more celebrating, I had a little party at my place. In the early evening I had some little friends over to celebrate my son's birthday as well, although it'd been a couple of weeks earlier. No one's hair went up in flames, so I'm considering it a success. People came over, ate drank, and were merry, and nobody died the next day. It was all good. Although I need to point out, if any of you guys are reading this, that next year I better get some presents! Except for Tania and Eli of course who were nice enough to bring me stuff. No, bringing yourself is not a gift unless you're Brad Pitt, Kevin Smith or Neil Gaiman...I hope you're all taking note as to what I want for next year.
Sunday was a day of rest, Mum , William and I hung out at my cousin Marina's place and did nothing all day, except gossip. Mum thinks R is a great friend, but absolutely out of the question when it comes to boyfriend material, so I think I won't mention friday to her.
Monday I went out for dinner with the whole family, to a great Japanese place called Sakura, and ate waaay too much tepanyaki and Miso soup. My kingdom for a bowl of Miso! Tuesday we had a girls only celbration, with lots of chocolate cake, because my mum simply wanted to. And celbrations have died down since then, but it's Independence Day tomorrow, so this weekend should be pretty wild too.
My birthday dinner @ Sakura's
Noses are smaller than they appear.
Normally birthdays involve wondering what's so different from one number to the next, but this year I can feel it, something weird is going on. I actually feel different, and I don't think it's just the urge to drive over the border and a have a legal beer in the U.S.of A. No, it might have something to do with brain circuits? Maybe it is a case for Mulder and Scully. In any case I need to go cook now...
Friday, September 09, 2005
Play it again Sam
This is probably my third attempt at a blog. I know, I know, a blog's for life, not just for Christmas. It's just that I make 'em and then after a post or two, well I have a wave of stuff to do and no time to write about it. That or I forget the password...okay so maybe I'm just careless. But I really do need somewhere to write things down, and as I'm not fond of paper diaries (my dad was a cop, and I've been paranoid ever since...), I'm going to give this blog writing another go.
So let's start with the easy stuff. Today I got up bright and early and went to Uni, I'm studying psychology. Or I will be, after a year of human sciences. This morning's lesson was Mexican Economic Structure, one of my favourites. My teacher always has some interesting accusation for me, "You're a communist.", being my favourite so far.
My crime for today was having a funny accent. He looked at me and told me I had a strange accent, surely I was from Mexico City. I noddedd, not entirely sure if that was something I should admit to. He warned me about the less than loving attitude some of the northerners here (Im in Baja California by the way) have towards us chilangos . There's a saying here " Kill a chilango and you'll make your country." Can we feel the love? And after telling me a couple of horror stories he expected me to talk about Marx...
That's it so far, apprt from pondering my escape plan from this capitalist, mind numming society. If I can just get away from the computer for long enough...
So let's start with the easy stuff. Today I got up bright and early and went to Uni, I'm studying psychology. Or I will be, after a year of human sciences. This morning's lesson was Mexican Economic Structure, one of my favourites. My teacher always has some interesting accusation for me, "You're a communist.", being my favourite so far.
My crime for today was having a funny accent. He looked at me and told me I had a strange accent, surely I was from Mexico City. I noddedd, not entirely sure if that was something I should admit to. He warned me about the less than loving attitude some of the northerners here (Im in Baja California by the way) have towards us chilangos . There's a saying here " Kill a chilango and you'll make your country." Can we feel the love? And after telling me a couple of horror stories he expected me to talk about Marx...
That's it so far, apprt from pondering my escape plan from this capitalist, mind numming society. If I can just get away from the computer for long enough...
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