Baby talk (part un)

I see my four nieces once a year (maybe twice if I'm lucky).
Four little 8, 7, 5 and 2 year-old monsters...

Yes, all girls.
Yes, all sisters.
Yes, all scary.

Today, while working on my computer, the oldest three asked to see Facebook pictures.
I won't lie, this is, more or less, what the girls said about my GUYfriends, after asking "is he your boyfriend?" on every single one of the pictures:

- Is he?
- No!
- Well good, he's not smiling. He's not funny.

- Is he?
- No, he's my best friend from College.
- He's cute! why isn't he your boyfriend?
- Because I don't want him to be my boyfriend.
- You're dumb.

- Is that your boyfriend?
- No, it's a guy I know.
- He's handsome! We want him to be your boyfriend!!!
- Yeah, sure... I don't think his wife will like the idea.
- Bummer.

- Is he?

- Noooo. That one's not around anymore.

- REALLY?!?!?

- Don't you remember him? He came and played with you guys! You called him "tickle monster".

- He looks grumpy. We don't like him. Don't bring him anymore.

- Copy that.

[let's experiment a little and show the girls some guys that I like]


- Is he your...
- Nope.
- Who is he?
- He's a guy I met a couple of months ago. What do you think?
- Handsome AND smiling. We like him.
- So... approved?
- Duh!!!

- How 'bout this guy?
- He looks like my friend's dad... 
- Is that good or bad?
- It´s bad! you don't want to date a guy that looks like a dad!!
- What if I do?
- You're disgusting.
- No I'm not!
- Fine... you're a dork.

- Who's that one?
- Oh... a guy. What do you think?
- He looks too serious.
- Grumpy?
- Not grumpy, se-ri-oussssss. Do you have another picture of him?
- How 'bout this one? [same guy making duck faces at the camera]
- He's funny!
- He has nice eyes.
- Yeah... [sigh]... I know.
- That guy looks fun, you should bring him over sometime.
- I don't think so.
- Why not? we like him! We promise to be good. Don't be mean.
- We had a fight. We don't talk anymore.
- Whaaaaaaaaaaat?!?!?!
- We just don't. We're not friends anymore.
- Call him and say you're sorry and invite him to come and play with us.
- I can't.
- Chicken!
- I'm not going to do it.
- Why not?.... chicken!!!!!
- Yeah... [sigh]... I know.

Home for Christmas

Well... no, I couldn't make it to Colombia for the Holidays.
My adviser wasn't happy when I went there for a conference two months ago, I knew leaving again may be contra-productive for my thesis and my graduation so... "me no go nowhere".
My parents and my sister will soon be on their way to Argentina and my other sister will be on her way to another city for New Year's... they made plans and I was supposed to go with them but I had to cancel at the last minute.

To be honest, I didn't want to spend all these family days by myself, surrounded by strangers or people that didn't understand the meaning of family. I was... ugh! I need a "loaned" family"!!!

I'm lucky I have that family now, even though I can't be with my real real family, my adoptive family has stepped up to the plate and has promised to surround me with new amazing and happy memories.

Do you know how people say "make yourself at home" when you arrive at their house? well, for me it's "you know where your room is, go unpack and come and help fix lunch!"

I'm lucky. I'll spend Christmas with Mr. Big and New Year's with my uncle and his wife (Tito and Tita).

Mr. Big, is my best-est friend, he's my big brother, my cousin, my boyfriend, my husband... everything in one person. I already told him "You are the most amazing fu%^&*& bad-ass of a friend I could ask for".
He saved my life, literally. I'll never be able to pay him back all he has done for me.

Tito is my dad's cousin and Tita's his wife. When I'm home with them I'm another daughter. I have a room, family duties, a car and a place at the table. Their granddaughters call me Nani... having sleepovers with those 4 little monsters was just what I needed to start the new year happy.

I'm home. I am definitely home!

I'm happy.

Tiny ego boosts

It's been four days since I closed my other blog and it's still making me smile.

Real people telling me how much they liked my stories and how fun they all sounded. I got fan mail!

People living out of their countries that felt connected with my crazy thoughts.
Others thought my stories started as fiction but realized they were real by the time my life crumbled and I decided to leave the blog-sphere in January.

I don't know how'd they found my email address because that information is supposed to be confidential [can you say creepers?... Bah! creep away my babies!!]

Interestingly enough, all those emails were from people that used to read my blog, but never left comments.
How many of those are on this one? helloooooo... can you read me!?!?!?!?

So anyway, creeped-out and all, it was a little ego boost and I decided to add a literary bullet to the "Smurfette gets a life" list. There are a few people in this world that like to read what I write so... what if... well... one of these days... [sigh]... we can all dream.

Funny. There was one message where someone said I should look for that "handsome dude with the pretty eyes" I mentioned in a couple of posts and ask him out.

Been there. Done that. Failed.

That one is dead now, only one post survived the debacle.

Euthanasia

Today I killed my beloved blog in Spanish... it's gone.
Six years of stories, 259 posts, 2200 comments... all gone.

That part of me is officially dead.

Dead people don't talk, dead people don't write.
When dead people show up, they come as ghosts and ghosts don't bring happy thoughts.

I don't need to be sad, it's Christmas, it's time to be happy.
The year is almost gone, a new one is coming, I have the chance to begin again.

I'm moving on.

A new verb

Unfriend...

Stupid Facebook, you're making people do weird things.

As far as I know, three people have "unfriended" me:

• One of my best friends from HighSchool. She was not contributing much to my life and in the end she, after calling me "the sister she always wanted" decided that I wasn't good enough to spend 2 minutes with. She surprised me with an invitation to her wedding two days before and expected me to show up all smiles. Mmmm... no, I have a little pride. Didn't happen. That one didn't hurt.
• One whore-ish girl who... blah, I was trying to do the "keep your friends close but your enemies closer", and I guess she couldn't handle seeing me happy; so she blocked me. That one felt good!
• The really painfully smart, funny and handsome dude that hurt me... bad. And I know in this rush of being "normal again" I hurt him... bad. I'm sure neither one of us meant it, but we did. He's someone who I never imagined could punished me for life. Being honest, I never imagined being deleted from his personal history was going to hurt, but as a matter of fact it did. It still hurts really... pretty... bad.

[Sad puppy face.. wipes a tear and keeps writing...]

So far, I've unfriended two people from facebook...

• My former adviser, we had a bad fight before he fired and threatened to deport me so... no thanks man!
• His wife... duh!

Today, I unfriended three more people, with a strong heart and a shaky hand. They are really nice, didn't do anything bad but knowing about their lives was bringing more tears than joy.

I'm sorry.

I need to leave without explanations, I have to disappear from your lives and make you disappear from mine, you've been nice and I don't have anything against you. You've wished nothing but good.

Honestly, I have to learn to be a little bit more selfish and stop worrying too much about others.
I can't walk straight into a bright new future carrying the dead load of a past that's not coming back.

I'm moving on.

[No more tears, the last 24 hours have been a Christmas nightmare and I deserve better.]

Dancing lessons

Christmas is time for forgiveness... and Christmas surprises.

Last night, I went out dancing with my friends [translation: non-stop-salsa-dancing-so-intense-today-I-dont-feel-my-legs-and-my-butt-hurts] and the "clap and whistle guy from Summer" joined us.

My friends new about the episode so, they were a little surprised when he asked me out to dance and I gladly accepted.

What they didn't know is that the same guy had offered a sincere apology a couple of weeks ago at a Thanksgiving party. We talked and he said he was sorry, I believed him. He was brave enough to face the facts and well... that's nice.

We're friends again. Last night he even taught me how to dance cha-cha-cha "ballroom style".

So, proposal ready, start forgiving people who hurt me, attempt to have a decent social life... my "Smurfette gets a life" list has THREE check-downs in less than 2 days.

Christmas looks promising...

Suco de Maracujá

Maracujá/Maracuyá is Portuguese/Spanish for Passion Fruit.
Suco de Maracujá is Portuguese for Passion Fruit Juice.

Yesterday I had to stand in front of my advising committee and defend my research proposal. After talking, talking, talking, talking and answering questions for one and a half hours [say whaaat?!?!?!] and then hearing them TRASH my topic for 30 minutes [ouch!]... it was cool to hear those three men talk about me, as if I was not in the room and say:

Guy No. 1: "Evidently, she wants to do something out of OUR comfort zone. That's brave".
Guy No. 2: "She's interesting".
Guy No. 3: "She's full of passion, it's comforting to hear somebody talk with so much passion".

And THERE!!... RIGHT THEN!!! At that moment I knew the deal was sealed!

Yes! this little juicy passion fruit is signed, sealed and delivered!!

Proposal approved. Me happy.

One teeny-tiny step for mankind, one HUGE step for Smurfette.

FYI: No, I didn't come up with the Maracuyá thing, it was one of my sister's. When I called her about the good news, all she said was: I'm ssssoooo proud of my PASSION FRUIT big sister!!!

To tree or not to tree

The other night, the roomie and I were debating about Xmas decorations: trees, lights and all those pretty things we are supposed to hang around the apartment during this time of year.

I’ve always been a crazy-Xmas-fan but a psycho when it comes to when Xmas celebration starts.

The only rule I follow is: NO DECORATIONS BEFORE DECEMBER 1st!!

I want my new place to look beautiful for the Holidays, we’re two single girls with excellent decoration taste. We’re expected to have an amazing home, right?

Last year, I got a beautiful and tall tree as a Xmas surprise, it was full of white lights, pine cones; red, green and white colors; a gorgeous tree topper in the shape of a rustic angel and a base cover that looked like the one my mom made for the one back home… and bows, lots of big red bows, all of them hand-made… made by me and… the guy that gave me the tree as a present.

Our house smelled like Xmas because the pine cones were fresh. Fresh from "Walmart", but smelled like the real deal.

This year I won’t have my tree. I had to leave it along with a part of my heart that’s still healing from being broken into a million pieces.

I don't want to miss my tree. I don't want to be sad because I miss my tree anymore.

If I think about it, my life should be like Xmas this year: everything brand new, with a tree that I got by MYSELF for MYSELF. Its size, color, smell, decorations... everything like MAFE wants it. Nobody else will have a saying on MY tree [well, nobody but the rommie and Mafe].
It'll fit MY space, with the things that I want, not too much, not too little.

So, if I decide to get a tacky pink tree with tacky purple lights and tacky cheap "Barbie-wanna-be" dolls hanging from the branches... it'll be MY problem.
Oh yeah, that'll be a problem.... ew!

EWWW!!!
Mafe, Mafe, Mafe... just because you want a nice tree doesn't mean that you are going to settle for the first pink horrible thing that walks by.

It's a good thing trees don't walk.

... wait... what was I talking about?
-

Roomie talk (iii)

Her: So, how was your night out with the boys?

Me: Fun, nothing big... oh, btw, I'm getting married.

Her: Cool. Who's the lucky guy?

Me: This guy...

Her: That's nice, I've always liked him... was he drunk?

Me: What makes you think a guy has to be drunk to propose to me??

Her: Why are you marring him then?

Me: I told him I needed a green card so he proposed.

Her: There's a thoughtful guy!

Me: Yeah, we're going to elope, you're going to be the only witness.

Her: Obviously!

[two hours later]

Her: Hey, you're NOT REALLY marrying that guy, right?

Me:  -.-

Her: Just checking...