Yakamatsu (vii)

I swear, I am NOT making any of this shit up.

Did you hear?? Nelson Mandela died!!!

I saw that, yes!

Do you know who Nelson Mandela was?

[Oh fuck! am I being tested?!?!] Ummm... SouthAfrican president - Apartheid - Racism - Prisioner... Ummm...

REALLY? I thought he was a singer.

[Jaw. to. the. floor]

Lunch, next day:

Did you hear about the World Cup draw?

World Cup... do mean soccer??

Uh-huh.

Not really, I'm not into sports, I prefer to read about news of the world.

[Suuuuuuuuuuuuure you do... pffffff!!!!]

The World Cup... they'll play before New Year's in Australia, right? 

[I think I'll lose my jaw to all the "flooring"] 

What about it?

[And now, to ensure my ticket to Beelzebub's fire pit...] Do you want to hear something sad?

Oh no!!!... what?!?!

Nelson Mandela was going to sing at the opening ceremony.

Oh noooooo!!! poor guy!!

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.
Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

I kept repeating that phrase to myself while I looked for a number on my phone.
I haven't dialed it in a long, long, LONG time.
I wanted to make the call. I needed to.

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.
Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

Before calling his number I called his office. I wanted to check if him, Dr. so-and-so was going to be available before Thanksgiving or if he was going to be out of the country because... you never know. Family values, right?
His secretary was "nice" enough to transfer my call to his direct line.
Oh crap!!

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.
Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

Lucky for me, he was not in his office and I had a couple more days to think about what I was going to say besides...

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.
Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

I was ready for a voice mail from a rejected call.
I was ready for an everlasting ringing and no pick-up sound.
I was ready for a "What do you want?!" from the other end of the line.

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.
Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

I knew we didn't end up in the best of terms.
He hurt me and I hurt him. I disappeared from his life and he didn't bother to look for me. Or did he?
All of our common friends don't talk to him anymore so... how was I supposed to know what was going to happen when I called?

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.
Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

I gather all the brave bones in my body and I dial his cell-phone number.

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.
Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

It's ringing...

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.
Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

And someone picks up...

Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.
Hey, it's me. Don't hang up.

And...

HEY YOU!! HOW ARE YOU?!?!
IT'S SO NICE TO HEAR YOUR VOICE AGAIN!!
WHAT A GREAT SURPRISE!!

Hey, it's me. Don't hang --- WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!

He was surprisingly nice. Oh my God... is he dying?!?! Is he high on mushrooms!?!?!
He asked about my life and my health.
I asked about his work, his new place, his health...
He told me he had a heart-attack scare and I told him about my boob-bump scare and we both promised to be good people and take care of ourselves.
He asked about my family and I did the same.
We talked about our plans for the future.
We apologized to each other for all the weird stuff that had happened, I thanked him for all the good things he had done for me and I told him how much I missed him.
I told him I was surprised how he knew it was me, how he hadn't deleted my number from his phone and he said: "Why would I do that? you don't delete the people you love from your life! I you just give them and yourself time to cool down and forget the reasons why you were mad. I'd never delete your number from my phone. I'll always love you."
He apologized as well, he called our "fight" a tie and suggested we started brand new with a: "Hi, how are you? my name is... what's yours?"
We talked for about one hour, then he had to go, but not before saying: Don't be a stranger, please stay in touch. Really, don't be a stranger.

We hung up and I had a big smile on my face.

And then... I woke up.

Yakamatsu (vi)

A post-Thanksgiving present for the world... a DOUBLE-YAKAMATSU feature!!!!

(and yes, I'm copying my most commented Facebook status of the week here, sue me)

The old lady from the reception desk just learned we don't celebrate Thanksgiving in Colombia:

WHAAAAAAAAAAT?!?! What do you celebrate then?!?!
Ummmm... Christmas?
What do you do in Colombia on Thursday then?!?!?!
Ummmm... work?
Does that mean you're coming to work on Thursday?!?!?
Of course! 
But Thanksgiving is a world-wide celebration!!!
Just like the Word Series, right?
EXACTLY!!
It's a religious thing. We're all Scientologists there.
Oh... 

I know, I'm going straight to hell.

Of course, I HAD to share this with Yakamatsu girl because well, I was bored.
Meh...

Why do you have to be so mean?!?!
I was not being mean! That old hag is TOO old, maybe she was there when the pilgrims came the first time, she maybe even helped on the Welcome party planning. She should know better!

I don't get it.

[Surprised Mafe? ----- nope!]

Anyway, do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?

I think "this guy" was going to invite me to his parents house...

OH MY GOD! ROMANTIC!!!! ARE YOU GOING?!?!

No.
WHY NOT?!?!?
Because if the family is as boring as the guy I'll end up hanging myself from the shower curtain.
You're mean.
It's called reality check sweetheart. The dude's incredibly and horribly lame. Besides, the neighbors invited me to their place, they're fun, I prefer walking across the parking lot rather than driving 45 minutes to be bored to death.
You're being a bitch.
No. It's called being practical.
Wait! Why didn't I get an invitation from the neighbors?
[Because they're afraid of you, maybe?!?!?!] I don't know, ask them, not me.
Ha! but you're not going to be able to go to ANY Thanksgiving parties anyway.
I won't?
You'll be working on Thursday, won't you?
You're joking, right?
But you just said----
You DO know I was jok--- are you being sarcastic?
I don't know what that means.
[Lordy Lord a' Mercy!]

My best friend's wedding

One year ago, while I was spending the most amazingly LAME Thanksgiving day in the History of lame Thanksgiving days, my best friend called me: I have to tell you something... Skype, NOW. It's HUGE!!

Knowing her like I do and knowing her current love situation I knew perfectly well what she was going to tell me. Of course I did...
The dude just proposed!!, she said. I can't believe it!!

(Btw, yeah, I've known this for a year now, when Mr. Big knew that didn't tell him and waited for her share the story he LITERALLY chased and spanked me around Downtown Ann Harbor with a flip-flop on his hand - true story.
What I don't understand is how he missed it, since she actually wrote a post about it?? -  burn baby!!)

That night we talked for hours, she told me the entire story.

A year passed and about a month ago she called me:
Hey queenie, what are you doing on the weekend of the 24th?
Hey princess! Not much I hope.
Will you be willing to fly to Ithaca for a weekend?
Why would I go to visit your fiance while you're in Colombia?
Will you, or not?!?!
I think I can... in theory.
Well, in theory I'll have a visa and will be there a week before.
Oh... so in theory we'll see each other!
And it theory you'll be a witness at my wedding!
SAY WHAAAAAAAAT?!?!?!
So... how do you write your name for ticket purposes, I need to book your ticket. Middle name?
Oh my God! is this really happening!?!?!?!

And so it happened.

I was there.

It was the greatest honor she could share with me. Being there, not as a witness but together as the sisters life gave each other to love and to bitch when the other one is doing something stupid is, by far, the greatest present anyone has ever given me.
I saw my best friend in the entire planet join hands with a wonderful, funny, smart and amazing man.
I heard him say how much he loved her and I heard her say she would go to the ends of the earth for him.
I was standing close enough to witness the way they lovingly looked at each other when they were pronounced "Husband and Wife".
I was there to see her transformation from a "Bah-Humbug! Bollocks to Valentine!" to a sweet "I found my prince charming... I've had enough frogs in my life. This one is taken bitches!!!". The roles have changed. Now, I'm the Humbug. A very happy Humbug because my best friend is the happiest person right now.

It was an extremely cold day in upstate New York but we didn't notice. Our sleeveless dresses and high heels were not ready for 10F nor snow but... pfff!!! it was the happiest day in my best friend's life so what if I lose a toe to hypothermia?!?!?!

You know I'll lose all 10 toes if you need me to walk across the North Pole.

I love you princess.

Of beauty, make-up and Photoshop

I'm going to be honest here, I don't think of myself as beautiful or sexy.
I'm not ugly either, I'm normal... nothing too fancy, not too disgusting, just... normal.
A good fashion sense, I guess.

I clean up nicely, they say. I dress pretty and the way I do my make-up is normal.
I like to have my hair put together when possible. Otherwise you'll see me on a not-so-pretty-sumo-wrestler-like pony tail but that's it. I'm a very normal, standard person.

Or so I thought.

This last weekend, as a celebration to the first tornado of the season, two of my friends and I decided to play dress-up and help one of them practice as she wants to become a make-up artist and hairdresser. We stayed home and... well...

Smokey sultry eyes, bright red lips, little black dress, beach wavy hair and I was done.
I looked different.
Just for fun, I took a selfie and whatsapped it to an ex-dude and he replied: "I'm not sure about it... I'll have to see it in person to comment"... whoa.

Of course, we HAD to take real pictures, OF COURSE! we were not going through all that and not have evidence of the beauty crime, right?
We turned the living room into a professional photographer studio with upside down lamps looking for the perfect "Facebook profile picture".

I didn't think it was going to be a big difference, it was just about the same right??
Wrong!

The result?

ONE HUNDRED AND THIRY-FIVE likes!!
Twelve hours after I posted my picture on Facebook, 135 of my friends liked it and 38 commented on it:
"You look like a beauty pageant contestant!"
"Gorgeous"
"Hey sexy, where have you been?"
"How YOU doin'?"
"You look super hot mamacita"
"Mafe, you look stunning"
"Damn girl! I'd date ya!" - from a girl.
A friend left a voice mail: "Since when do you look like Kim Kardashian????"... yes, apparently my friends drunk-dial my number.

Do you know what is like having 135 of the people you know clicking on LIKE?
Well, I never had anything like that happening to me so it felt AWESOME!!!!!

But here's the thing: that picture was completely staged.
There was nothing "casual" about that look: the make-up, the hair, the dress... yes, it was me under all that but that wasn't the real me.
Two hours after the picture was taken I was back in bed, with my hair and face washed and the model from the picture was gone down the drain, literally.

"Congratulations on your new look"... look? whatchu-talking about??
"I love your transformation"... what transformation?
"I barely recognized you! you look so pretty"... ohhhhh... kay... ummmm... thanks?

To make things funnier, I landed my first "modeling gig".
Yes, now I'm a model. No, I can't believe it either.

And no, I'm not a Victoria's Secret Angel, God forbid!
A friend of mine is part of a health research team (can't tell much because I just signed a confidentiality agreement) and they needed a Latina for his posters and, guess what? he called me.

At first, I thought it was going to be something simple, just go to his house and take some funny pictures.
Then shit got real yo': We had a meeting to discuss the "storyline", the "concept"... the actual contract... and I started to chickened out.

Then they sent me the address to the stud---- wait... STUDIO?!?! Yes, studio.

I had to stand THERE, in the middle of those lights, with a dude taking pictures of me while someone else kept saying: look sad, now look disappointed, now look happy, now look hopeful... now look at me, now back to you, now back to me, you are now petrified because you have 10 pairs of eyes watching your every move and you cannot smile when your supposed to frown... I'm on a horse.

I asked my friend if the camera was going to reflect all the imperfections on my face, I begged for  make-up!! to which he said:
"No worries Mafe, you'll be fine. You actually have to look older... I'll Photoshop a couple of years into your face, you are naturally cute and I need you to look old".

So, what is the definition of beauty?

Where is beauty actually? is it at the bottom of my make up bag or in the screen of a graphic designer?

I sent the first selfie that I've sent my ex to my dad and he didn't like it (what the duce?!?!): It's too much Nana. You don't look like yourself.
Then my dad saw the FB picture: same day, same face, same dress, same hair, BUT different lighting and he commented: That's much better, you see? you don't have to overdo things to look beautiful.

Is beauty in the eye of the beholder or in the hands of a lighting assistant?

I don't know, I just felt existential on my first week out in the world again.




BONUS TRACK: if you made it as far as this line and you didn't get the "I'm on a horse" thing:

Yakamatsu (v)

Freaking cold weather... it hurts!
I knoooooow!
My lips are so dry they hurt.
Can you imagine mine? I play the flute!
OH DUUUUDE!!! I forgot about that, poor you... how do you manage?
I have a special pomade, it's really good... but I never use it.
O.o
Besides, after so much use, you kinda lose feeling.
That's what HE said!
What?
Never mind. So... you don't feel anything?
Well, I can feel a kiss, I guess.
Girl, you don't feel kisses on your lips.
What are you talking about?
[Heeeeeeeeeere we go] Well... If they're sweet, you'll feel butterflies in your stomach.
Gross!! does that mean I'll get bugs and worms because of a contagious disease through my mouth?!?!
[WTF just happened here?!?!]
I never thought of that.
I didn't sa--- forget about it.
Thanks for the heads-up!
[sigh]... anyway. If they're wild, passionate and kinky, you'll feel them somewhere else.
Really?!?!
Don't you think?!?!
Where?!?!
[And I HAD to say it and she HAD to ask it]... well... "down there".
You know what? you're right.
[Oh... thank you baby Jesus! I won't have to explain THAT ONE!]
Yes! my feet get sweaty when I get excited.
[I'm 100% sure I just got a free pass to hell for this one]

That time of the month

Well, actually, that time in YOUR LIFE.

When you feel a bump.

It happened a couple of weeks ago while I was showering. I felt it.
I thought it was going to go away, I thought it was a mosquito bite but didn't go away.
I thought it was a rash or an allergy but didn't go away.

I was petrified.
The only two people who knew about it were Mr. Big and Shelley, why scare other people? I'm scared enough for all of them already.

How is a bump on your breasts supposed to look like? dark? pink? green? blue? is it supposed to shine in the dark?
How is it suppose to feel like?
Is it supposed to smell? Mine didn't
How big? how small? How big is big and how small is small?
Is it supposed to itch or hurt? Mine did.

I had so much on my plate at the time and I was so scared I was hoping it would go away. But it didn't.

To be honest what I thought it was weeks and weeks was just a couple of days.
I went to the doctor and she said she didn't want to do any "intrusive" examination, tech words for a biopsy... A BIOPSY!!! (WTF?!?!) until she was sure the bump wasn't something superficial and due to my stress levels.
Her first theory is that it could be just a skin infection I caught while shaving and it could go away with antibiotics. The bump could be a lymph node reacting to it.
My nervous system was all messed up with "life".
My blood pressure was waaaaaaaaaay beyond my normal limits and well...

Fingers crossed baby Jesus?

So, I went home with a bunch of pills and the promise to take 2 a day for 2 weeks, a special diet "just in case" and no alcohol in all its shapes, sizes and colors and... really doctor? I'm not supposed to worry but you're making me take 28 of I-don't-remember-their-name pills and... really?!!?!?!

The bump disappeared and some of the freaking out went away.
Still, I had to postpone the check-up appointment because.. well... "life" happened and I was unavailable and in hiding for 3 weeks.

Today, I went back.
The doctor was waiting for me. I got there and she was AT THE DOOR, waiting for me.
Oh my God...
She skipped me through triage and took me straight to a examining room.
Oh my God...
She asked me if I mind one of her students watching her examine me and my boobs.
Sure, I guess.
They took some blood samples, just because. They were back in a couple of minutes.
Everything was normal.
Yes, it was just a Lymph node, just an infection.
My blood pressure is now even below my standard levels, which is actually good because my "standard" was a little above healthy so, good!

Why the secrecy and all the fuss?
Apparently, her student had a test but the doctor wanted her to see my entire examination because checking for breast bumps doesn't happen everyday.

Well, it turned out to be nothing.
Thankfully I'm healthy.
Yes, thankfully it was nothing.
I apologized to the doctor about all this being nothing and she said: "You don't have to apologize, if something is not healthy, we need to fix it. Most importantly when it comes to something as horrible as Cancer (ugh! she said it!!!). No need for apologizes, I'm glad you came. Most women don't react and when they do, it's too late".

The sooner you're diagnosed, the sooner you can start treatment.

Love your boobs, I know I love mine...

What's in my bed?

You know that old saying "you never know what you have until you lose it"?

Well, I learned that, the hard way... with my bed.

I had a bed, a normal bed, nothing fancy, just a frame with wheels and a mattress... very un-orthopedic, nothing custom made but...  it was MY bed and I loved it.
It kept my sleepy nights and snoring mornings since I got here until a couple of years ago when it was "too uncomfortable" for someone else and we got rid of it to make room for the Nimbus 2000 of beds. To be honest, I didn't like it. It was too stiff and TOO big.
Then, when I moved back to Cincinnati I had nothing. No mattress and no frame.

No job and no money meant no bed.
I spent my first months here sleeping on a child's mattress.
I went from a super king size bed... to a child's mattress... on the floor.

After that, some friends bough a new mattress and were nice enough to give me the old one.
My old landlord had a bed box spring and gave it to me.
I went to good-will and found an old frame for a couple of bucks (literarily $5) and... voila! I had a bed.

But NOW? now I have a nice mattress just like I like it!
A real bed, with drawers underneath to keep my shoes.
I have pillows!!! lots of colorful pillows for my new bed.
The old sheets are all gone, I don't want them anymore.
I have a huge, heavy and super cozy feather comforter where I dive every time I feel like it.

With the old rinky-dink bed I didn't have any problems getting up and going to work every day.
With the new bed I don't want to get out of it.

Good thing I been quartered at home for the last month, even though I can't leave my apartment I don't mind staying in bed aaaaaaaaaaall day and aaaaaaaaaaaall night.

What's in my bed?
A happy and slowly recovered Mafe.

And now, if you'll excuse me, yes, it's Saturday, noon... and I'm going back to bed. Doctor's orders.

Yakamatsu (iv)

I went to the library to rent some DVDs (yes, I do that, I'm old-fashioned like that) and I found "The Iron Lady" on the shelves. Yakamatsu girl went with me.
I've wanted to watch that movie for some time so... well...


Looooook! I love this woman [Meryl Streep]. Nice! 
Is it good?
Well, look at the title!
"Iron lady"... what is it about?
Ummmm... about the Iron lady?
Who's that?
Mar ---- wait ---- what?? ----Margareth Thatcher!
Who's that?

Only... female... Prime Minister... England... ever?

Really? I didn't know that!

She died early this year. It was all over the news...

Really?!?!?! Never heard of her.

I'll take "The Emperor's New Groove" as well, we can watch it together.

Is that a documentary?

Oh dear Lord...

Last night, I stayed home and watch a movie (duh! I can't go out...). 

She decided to join.

She specifically asked to watch "Iron Lady".

Ok, let's educate her.

Just so you know "Iron Lady" is not a movie about "Iron Man"'s mother.

Who?!?!

Iron Man? you know... from The Avengers?

Who?!?!

The Avengers... Hulk, Captain America, Hawk-eye, Black Wido--- no?

Never heard of them.

How do you do that!?!?!

What?

Nothing. It's my fault. I like these super hero movies no one watches.

It's ok. We all like some things no one knows about.

O_o

Half-way through the movie...

Oh look! The dancing with Reagan scene! I remember watching that on the news with my grandpa a loooong time ago! I can't believe it. They even found a guy that looks like him!

Like who?!?!

Reagan.

Who?!?!

Ronald Reagan.

Who!??!

Former US president?

I don't know who that is.

[Oh... fuck it! Why bother?]

Mr. Big (vi)

[driving... somewhere between Ann Harbor and Cincinnati...]


This is weird.

What?

THIS... you sitting on the passenger's seat... me driving... it's awkward.

What do you mean? we've done it before.

But it feels awkward this time.

Why?

I don't know... this is your territory, not mine.

You're being weird.

I'm not BEING weird... it FEELS weird.

You're weird.

Have you noticed the thing with the music?
What thing with the music?

It's MY iPod, but YOU are the one that sings to every single song.

Are you doing one of your weird experiments on me?

I'm just saying... you've been singing every single one of the songs on my iPod.

Oh please! not every single one.

Every - single - one

Play the next one ------------ oh yeah, I know that one.

See?

Neeeeeeext! wait... you see? I don't kn--- oh wait... I do.

You're creeping me out dudette.

Neeeeeeext --- now, no, that one's not--- oh yeah.

It's going to be a long 5 hours in this car.

But at least we'll be singing, right?!?!
Did you blacked out the last 2 minutes of conversarion?!?!?

Hoy te extraño

No sé si tu recuerdo habla en Inglés o en Español.

Hoy te extraño.
Sola en mi casa sentada escuchando canciones que me revuelven el corazón y los recuerdos.
Hoy te extraño.

Hoy quisiera hablar contigo.
Quisiera decirte que tengo miedo.
Que estoy al borde de un precipicio, lista a saltar a lo desconodido y que sé que no estarás conmigo.

Hoy te extraño.
Hoy extraño a un fantasma de un muerto que no volverá.
Le pido a Dios que te mande un ángel y te diga allá arriba en el cielo de los pinguinos que aunque no necesito nada de tí, hoy te extraño.
No necesito que me ayudes, no necesito que me digas que debo hacer.
No necesito que hagas lo que yo no quiero.

Sólo quiero sentir mi mano en la tuya a mi lado y tus ojos bobitos mirándome para saber que todo va a estar bien.

Hoy te extraño.
Es todo.

Mr. Big (v)

Should I buy candy for any trick-or-treaters tonight?

... if you like those sorts of things.

I can always just turn off all the lights and hide in the kitchen...

That's my boy!!

What if no one comes to my house for candy?

Send them to me, of course!

Oh no, then you'll get fat and blame me for it.

Are you calling me f-----

WHAT? am I calling you WHAT?????

Ummmm....

If anything, I called the opposite of what you're thinking.

Wait!! are you calling me.... ummmmm....

Haha! Need a minute??

ARE YOU SAYING I DON'T HAVE WILL POWER?!?!

That's my girl!

:P

Yes, you are DEFINITELY a woman. Never losing a fight.

I know, right?!?!?!

Yakamatsu (iii)

Yakamatsu girl and her cyber boyfriend Skype 3 times a day. Everyday.
Every.
Day.

Today (Sunday) she woke up at 6 in the morning to sing to him

Six.

In the Morning.

To sing.

ON A SUNDAY!!

I opened my sweet little eyes and with the smile of a tigress in heat who has just been woken up from her beauty sleep by a stampede of monkeys high on Ecstasy asked her to SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Anyway, a couple of days ago I noticed a wine glass besides her computer.
Then I realized, every time she talks with this dude there's a wine glass.
I'm not stalking. Just noticing patterns.

Maybe I should mention that in this apartment, I'm the alcoholic one.
I'm the one that has her wine rack stuffed with a Savignon blanc, a Riesling, a Moscato, a Rosso, a Verde, a Late Harvest, an Uzo, an Amaretto, a Cointreau and... some weird Chocolate wine a guy gave me for my birthday.
Ummm, now that I think about it... I'm the one that OWNS a wine rack.

So, this girl doesn't buy wine, doesn't drink mine but still... has a wine glass by her laptop all the time.

What the hey?
Is she a phantom alcoholic?
What does she drink?
There was a left-over of whatever she was drinking. It was something wine-like-color, wine-like-texture, but it didn't smell like any wine I know.
OH MY GOD!!! "any wine I know"... am I an alcoholic???

---  anyway ---

So, I'm curious and I decide to ask her about the glass:

Ummm... sweetie... are we getting drunk on love??
No, no, no... it's that I want [cyber boyfriend's name] to think I'm an experienced woman. I don't want him to think I'm lame.
LAME!?!?!?!?! YOU?!?!?!?!? NAAAAAAHHHHHH...
[cool it Mafe, be nice!]
So yeah, I drink apple juice while I talk to him and pretend is something... ummmm... stronger?
You DO realize he sees you "happy on wine" at 6 in the morning every weekday, right?!?!?!
O.o
Nope, not lame. Not lame at all.

Yakamatsu (ii)

Ugh...
What's wrong?
It's that time of year again.
What time?
Got an e-mail from the doctor, it's time for my yearly check-up.
Huh?!?!?!
You know... the most dreaded doctor's appointment for women?
Oh yeah! I hate that, my lips always end up chapped after those things.
THAT'S GROSS!!! TMI!!
Well, that's why I hate going to the dentist too.
The denti--- ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Yakamatsu (i)

Yakamatsu is a Japanese word for "You can't make this shit up".

My roommate the mexican flautist is an everlasting source of Yakamatsu moments.

I come home one day and it smells weird, like someone's baking a cake but not really.

Hey gurrrrl, whatcha doin'?
Baking a cake.
Smells funny.... did you turn on the oven? [please don't explode my apartment, please, don't]
Of course! I'm not stupid!

I see the thermostat and it shows a little less than 200.
Why is the temperature so low?
The recipe calls for 175 degrees for 35 minutes... but it's been cooking for an hour.

I know what you're thinking... wait fooooooooor it.
175 degrees... Were those Celsius or Farenheit, babyface?
Who cares, they're the same thing, right?

Mafe's jaw... to-the-floor.
Umm... not really honeybunch. 175C is EASY 350-400F.
Wow...  like magic?
[Oh... for the fricking love of...] Not magic sweetiepie, like PHYSICS.
Really? I though Physics were about throwing rocks.

Take a deep breath Mafe. You kill her, you'll pay for it... with half of your rent.
Can't you just double-check your recipe?
How can I do that?
G--- T--- S
What?
GOOGLE --- THAT --- SHIT
Here's the recipe, but it doesn't say... those must be MEXICAN DEGREES.

Everyday is Halloween

Hey bonita, do you have time for coffee?
Sure dude. You ok?
Yes. I've been meaning to talk to you about something.
Wait... we've never had coffee in the 8 years we know each other. Don't scare me.

*****

It's about you-know-who. I think you need to hear these news from a friend.
Ok friend. Shoot.
Someone told me [insert really uncomfortable news here]
Oh!... oh...... I knew that. 
YOU DID?!?!?!
Yeah.
WHO TOLD YOU?!?!
I just knew.
Oh no... now you're making sad puppy eyes... I didn't mean to!! I'm sorry!
I don't... It's... I... I can'... It's... [sigh] What can I do, huh?
Mafe, what happened?
What do you mean?
HE went 180, YOU went 180. You're two different people, unrecognizable.
Huh??
You are not sweet-cute-funny-little-Mafe anymore. You're... I don't know. Different.
Different? How?
When you came back last year, all of us "macho men" took you as our sad, broken, recently divorced sister-in-law who we were supposed to take care of. You were so fragile...
Now?
Now? well... the fun smart-ass hot single aunt the kids want to be with and the "macho men" want to take out. Sometimes sexy, sometimes scary...
What do you want me to say... I'm flattered?
And you should be!! What about my broken sister-in-law? is she gone for good?
She's sitting right in front of you. She dresses-up as a smart-ass hot single aunt for family functions... and to go to work everyday.

Sister pondering (i)

Here you'll find the deepest thoughts from my sisters and I. 

Read. Listen. Learn.

And please, don't expect rational things, I'll leave those for personal and private enjoyment.

Why is Tom Hanks the best actor from the last 20 years?

Because he has been in the four most heartbreaking scenes in the last 20 years:

1. The "I'm sorry Wilson!!" scene in Castaway.

2. Captain Rich Phillips getting a check-up after being rescued from the Somali pirates in Captain Phillips.

3. Mamma and Jenny dying in Forest Gump.

... and...

4. Andy giving away Woody in Toy Story 3.

Think of a movie that has made you cry like a baby. Most probably he was there

Mr. Big (iv)

So... you made the girl cry.

I did.

On purpose, I bet.

What?!

You're mean.

No, I'm not! Besides, it was at the end of the party.

Hahahaha!!! so that makes it better?

No!!!!!! But... it's... less... ummmm... bad?

Oh my God!! are you serious?!?!

Dude, I didn't mean to.

I bet you had it planned all along.

Uhhhhh... sort of?

You bitch!

I bet she's thinking the same thing... 

So, you waited until the last minute to make her miserable... that's classy.

Listen, dinner was boring and I wanted to leave. I HAD to say good-bye and... one thing led to another.

I cannot believe you just said that.

Hey!

So what? you left and she was all alone at the restaurant ready to jump off a cliff?

Nah... she was with all her amazing French, fancy friends who are not assholes... like me.

Regrets?

Nope.

What happened to you!?!? it's like you don't have feelings anymore!! You're mean!!

I don't know. I'm just putting useless junk out of my way, I guess.
MARIA FERNANDA!!!!

I know... I'm sorry?

I see dead people (reprise)

Here's the original post.

If you've never seen "The Sixth Sense", here's how it goes:
There's this boy that sees "dead people". Seriously! He sees dead people walking around but no one believes him. The dead don't know they're dead and they can't see each other.
There's this children's psychologist, Bruce Willis, that's going through a bad stage in his marriage and decides to help the boy overcome his fears. The guy has some really weird issues with his wife and the boy doesn't seem to get better... which gets this character pretty annoyed.
Stories come and go, and at the end *** SPOILER ALERT*** we find out that Bruce Willis was dead the whole time!!
Duuuuuuuuude! no wonder your wife didn't talk to you! Duh!
No wonder the boy's mom didn't talk to you.
No wonder you didn't see the dead... YOU were dead! man!

When you're dead... you don't know it, until someone else points it out.

Well...

I found out I am.

I'm dead.

It's not possible to meet a drunk dude for 20 minutes on a train station in another continent, get his Skype name and start talking to him and get a wedding proposal from the guy after 2 months of video chat.
So yeah, after two months of video chat, my I-don't-know-how-innocent-roommate's cyber boyfriend is coming in December months, ready to propose.
She's ready to move to his country and help raise his teen-age daughter and be a happy family.

I don't feel safe knowing that someone from the internetz is going to come to MY house to stay.

I don't believe it'll happen.
I don't believe they can be in love.
I don't believe he has good intensions.
I don't believe they can be in love.
I don't believe she's going to be happy.
I don't believe I'm angry.
I don't believe I'm scared about the situation.
I don't believe love can be like that.
I don't believe she'll survive being the "other mom".
I don't believe they can be in love.
I don't believe I can be happy for her.
I don't believe this is normal.
I don't believe they can be in love.
I don't believe they can be in love.

I don't believe in love.

There, I said it.

I don't believe in love.

I don't believe it'll ever happen to me so, I don't believe it's normal to happen to anyone.

Now it's hard for me to trust people.

If I'm not important to anyone... why waste my time?
Someone already wasted my time and used up all the love I had to give so... really, why bother?

If I'm not worthy of thinking about a lifetime with... why imagine it's possible?

All I am is just a cover-up for temporary happiness... not someone you want to wake up next to every day of your life.

Love doesn't exist.

I am dead.

Heartless

... and the woman from the other post left.

And there was a farewell party for her.
And she invited me.
And after thinking a million times about attending or not the dinner-thing, I did.
And as I said good-bye to her before leaving the restaurant I gave her a hug and...

"Listen, I truly hope you're happy.
You deserve all the happiness the world has for you.
I'm sorry for anything wrong of hurtful I ever said or did to you.
I don't have anything against you. You were a good friend in the past.
There's a part of me that died, and whoever is left now can't be friends with you.
Have a safe trip and a great life.
I'm not sure if this is a good-bye forever, maybe when I'm alive again, I'll call you and we can catch up on life, but now is not the moment. You'll hurt me and I'll hurt you, I know that.
Someone once told me 'I never used you to be happy, things just happened'... and well, now I'm saying it to you."

All she said was: "Don't... just... don't... you'll make me cry."

"You're crying because you choose to. I'm just saying I'm' sorry and Good-bye.
No one deserves your tears. No one. Don't waste them on someone like me."

And I left.

I have no regrets of what I said. All of it was true.
I don't feel hate or sadness.
As much as I keep thinking I don't think I'll miss her.
Maybe I didn't wanted to be close to her anymore.
Maybe I wanted an easy way out of a relationship and took the first train out of it.

This is how it feels to be heartless, I guess.

An old whore on the fast lane to hell

That's how my new roommate makes me feel... sometimes.

She's a young and good catholic girl from a very conservative family, from a very conservative town in a very conservative country.
She's my youngest sister's age but sometimes I don't feel like an older sister, but a whoring mother.

Anyway, this girl has to be home by 9pm because... well... because.
Me? I come home at 9pm IF I'm done work by that time.

The girl goes out on weekends and comes back at 10pm because... the streets are dangerous, she says.
Me? the longest I've been out on a weekend is 6am and got a loooong lecture by Mr. Big.

The girl is about to become a Master's in Music but doesn't know who Celia Cruz, Michael Jackson, Metallica or Maroon 5 are because... well... the hell I know!!
Me? don't ask.

The girl thinks every guy that talks to you is a "potential husband" because... I'm scared to ask.
Me? meh... been there, done that. Still, my best friends are men.

The girl thinks when a woman says a guy is cute means she's horny. Don't ask.
Me? It'll take a SUPER hot guy to make me fell... ummmm... nevermind.

The girl thinks the last comments on Mafe and Big's picture are "pornographic"
Me? I still can't believe my girlfriends envy my brand new swimming/spinning legs on shorty-short-shorts!

Oh! this girl will NEVER wear shorts, even on the hottests Summer days. They're too revealing, she says.
Me? well... since the cyber-world likes my legs... gotta give them what they want, right?

The girl thinks religion is the solution to all your problems and should be obeyed, no questions asked.
Me? I was taught to think and question EVERYTHING.

The girl doesn't like my friends' jokes about "sex and those things".
Me? Me loves me posy.

The girl has 3 "cyber boyfriends". She txt's them, Skype's them, email's them daily... but has NEVER been out with ANY of them because... well... [instert WTF-face here].
Me? well... no. I've had gentlemen callers, yes. I've been sxt'ing txt'ing a couple of dudes, yes.I've been on dates, yes. Coffee? movie? dress-up for dinner? mmmmm?... yes.

The girl doesn't know who Hugh Jackman, Johnny Depp, Antonio Banderas or any other actor is.
Me? I had an Oscar-watching-dinner party at home this year.

This weekend, I went out with my friends for a post-Oktoberfest party night.

We went to a bar. Packed as always and playing the best 70s and 80s classics anyone can think of. We jumped, danced and scream to the likes of Queen, Jackson 5, Madonna, Whitney Houston, Journey, Vanilla Ice...

And I took her with me.
And.................... never again.
She stormed out a couple of minutes later without saying good-bye because... and I quote "it was full of strangers and all that Heavy Metal and Rock were too much".
Slap on my face.  Is she for real??


She's not a friend. She's not really a roommate. Just my little a social experiment. I decided I'll shoot funky-weird information at her just to see her reactions.
I'm a researcher and science is my life... yeah, right Mafe. Be honest, you're just being a bitch.

Every time I talk with her I feel super old.
Every time I talk about a person from the opposite sex I feel like super slut.
I'm pretty sure she thinks I can't grow devilish fangs and horns because I don't drink milk anymore and there's not enough Calcium on my body..

I'm an old whore driving the bus on the fast lane to hell.

A name that will never be the same

If you ever try to hit on a girl named Maria... THIS is how you do it.

I went to see "West Side Story" with a friend who's doing his PhD research on musical theater. How cool is that?
This guy is doing research on "West--- Side--- Story"... ha! and I thought my bikes were exciting.
Anyway, as we went to the theater he was explaining little details and fun facts about the play.

My favortite song? MARIA... because yes, I'm narcissistic. I wouldn't have a blog if I wasn't... duh!
You know the song? Maria? the one that goes: 
Maria... I've just met a girl named Maria... and suddenly that name, will never be the same to meeeeee...

Afterwards we went for a drink to KY to the Riverbend and there was a magician playing tricks to people passing by.
A little crowd was standing around him, we stopped for a while to watch his show and out of the blue he asks me to pick a card and asked what my name was.
- Maria
- Maria... I've just met a girl named Maria... and suddenly that name, will never be the same to meeeeee...
My friend joined in song, some other guys around as well. It was SUPER cool.
- [blushhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!]

----- a couple of weeks passed by ----

I went to Opera at the Park with my friend Mafe (yes, we both have the same nickname... double the Mafes, double the fun!!) and the orchestra and the chorus made it cool by mixing opera and musicals. 
My friend and I had front row seats and the soloist got off the stage to sing with the audience, stops in front of us and...
- Maria... I've just met a girl named Maria... and suddenly that name, will never be the same to meeeeee...
Yes, because my life is THAT COOL.

----- two months ago -----

When Mr. Big was visiting he said he wanted to see me in a dress, a girly-dress so I wore one to work on the day he was leaving before driving him to the airport.
Apparently, my dress was vintage Broadway style and I didn't know it.
Yeah, that's how fashionable I am now and I don't know it.

So, this old dude from the office who was on Sabbatical comes and introduces himself while complementing my dress.

- Hi, My name is Zach. What's your name.
- Maria.
- Maria... I've just met a girl named Maria... and suddenly that name, will never be the same to meeeeee...
- Awwwwwwwwwwww!!
Funny thing, the UPS guy walked-in and joined him:
- I've just kissed a girl named Maria... and suddenly I found, how wonderful a sound can beeeeeee...

-----

Today, I turned on the NPR while I was getting ready for work and well... what can I say...

Push play... and enjoy!

The most beautiful sound I ever heard:

Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria...

All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word...

Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria...

Maria!

I've just met a girl named Maria,

and suddenly that name, will never be the same... to me.

Maria!

I've just kissed a girl named Maria,

and suddenly I found, how wonderful a sound... can be.

Maria!

Say it loud and there's music playing,

say it soft and it's almost like praying.

Maria...

I'll never stop loving Maria!

The most beautiful sound I ever heard.

Maria...

To Sir Elton John...

Hey dude... can I call you dude?
Oh wait, I forgot you're royalty now.

To your royal dudeness,

We've been friends for a long LONG time.
I went to one of your concerts and it was aahhhhh-mazing!!
I'm not going to lie, I don't know all your songs by heart, I know most of them... and I can sing many many MANY of their choruses so, I can't think you can call me a pretty cool fan.

You have a full radio station in my Pandora box... a guy can't ask for more, right??

I have to be honest, I have a terrible problem with your music RIGHT NOW.


Years ago I could go:

Buh-buh-buh-benny and the jets!

Benny!

Benny!

Benny!... and the Jets...

And jump around and dance or scream and laugh.

But lately I've been feeling a like someone just pushed me and I'm:

"Exiled here from other worlds,

my sentence comes too soon.

Why should I be made to pay

on the bad side of the moon"?

When my mind fights sad memories, my computer starts being an ass and plays:

My high-flying bird has flown from out my arms

I thought myself (her) his keeper

(S)he thought I meant (her) him harm

(S)he thought I was the archer

A weather man of words

But I could never shoot down my high-flying bird.

And, of course, when I'm home alone I think...

"How it feels so real

Lying here with no one near

Only you and you can hear me

When I say softly slowly"

Hold me closer tiny dancer,

count the headlights on the highway,

lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today"

HA! and don't even get me started on trying to survive listening to THIS because... no:

And I think it's gonna be a long long time

'til touch down brings me round again to find

I'm not the (wo)man they think I am at home...

I'm a rocket (wo)man

... rocket (wo)man burning out her fuse up here alone.

YOU SEE?!?!?

You're not helping!!!

I truly hope, one of these days I can scream:

Oh, the bitch is back

Stone cold, sober as a matter of fact

I can bitch, I can bitch

'cause I'm better than you

It's the way I move

The things I do

But since all I can think of now is:

Don't let the sun go down on me

although I search myself. It's always someone else I see

I'd just allow a fragment of your life to wander free

but losing everything is like the sun going down on me

Here's the deal, all I'm going to say right now for you right now is:

Goodbye yellow brick road

where the dogs of society howl

You can't plant me in your penthouse

I'm going back to my plough

So,

I hope you don't mind,

I hope you don't mind...

But you are getting OUT of my Pandora, for a whileeeeeee.

Don't tell him (not that I think you could), but Freddy Mercury MAY be the next on my list.
FYI, Bruno Mars just made a come back to my playlist with a new album. He's forbidden to play some of his song (specially those with videos with dancing monkey's) but he learned the lesson.

Note to self: 

Mafe, tell the doctor those new, improved and stupid 
FALL allergies are stronger than we thought they were. 

You're not making any sense.

Living, leaving, smiling, crying and changing

A couple of years ago I had 3 Colombian roommates: John B, Danny and Mauro.
We were not close friends, but we used to cook together, discuss politics and soccer, go out together from time to time and, most importantly, we respected each other's spaces.

Funny thing? They all had girlfriends/wives that I didn't like at the time. Today, I'm close friends with those THREE girls, all of them exes now: one moved to France and we talk every other week, another other moved to Boston and I was invited to her wedding, the last one moved to Singapore but came back to Cincy and now she's one of my closets bike/knitting "gurls".

You live, you change.

The biggest surprise of the century came two weekends ago when John B. called me and said: "I'm in Cincinnati, what are you doing Friday night? I want to see you! I'm staying at this guy's place, can you come??? please???"
Jaw... to... the... floor...
WHAT?!?!

I was having an after-school girl's dinner party at Shelley's so when I finished there I ran to my house, dropped my backpack, put on some make-up, fixed my hair, changed my horrible t-shirt into a cute top, picked-up the car and drove... drove like hell across the tri-county area to see him.

Oh. My. God!
I never imagined how seeing him would be one of the most emotional moments in a long time in my life.
I got off the car and he was waiting for me at the porch
I played cool and walked towards him but his pace was faster than mine.
He ran to me, and hugged me... and it was sweet.
And he lifted me like in the movies and --- hey! not like that!!! like a brother and sister that reunite after a long time.

You live, you smile.

He said something like: "I'm so happy to see you! I really wanted to see you. Thank you!!!"
I was speechless.
He kept talking: "I heard about what happened to you, the story reached to us in Medellin (the city where he lives). I'm sorry about that. Are you ok, now? is there anything I can do for you?... you look incredible by the way..."
Me? no words.
"You are the sweetest woman I know. Coming all the way from Cincinnati so late at night to see annoying old me... I'm really happy to see you!!"
"I know this past year has been hard for you, and I just want to tell you that we're all praying for you back in Colombia. We were worried but we know you'll be happy again... I'll take care of that, at least this week while I'm here."
"Mafe... are you ok? Mafe... speak!!"

It took me a while to gather my thoughts and all I could say is: It's... I'm just... I'm so happy to see you!!!! I can't believe how happy I am to see you!!!!!

It was true, I never imagined how happy seeing that annoying gentle giant of a dude would make me.

You live, you smile.

He was here the rest of the week, we had lunch one day, dinner another night and a couple of coffee afternoons.

He was one of my "11 male companions" this past Friday, of course!!
Unlike 5 years ago, he was not drinking, we were just talking, talking, talking... he was the designated driver. Say whaaaaaaaaat??
Unlike 5 years ago, he was not in the mood for staying late, he was tired and wanted to go home. 

You leave, you change.

He left this morning, yesterday a friend threw a farewell bbq party for him.
I was there all day with him.

I was truly amazed about how much we talked about everything: our lives, our future, love, friendships, old friends...

But the time came and I had to leave, we had to say good-bye.

He hugged me really tight and said:
" It was really good to see you. Please, let me know if you want to visit my city, I'd love to be as good as a host as you were mine.
Mafe, I'm glad to see you're getting better, little by little. I know you'll be back to normal in no time. You'll see. Forget all your sadness and come back to be the crazy geek I know!
Please forgive me for anything I did in the past, you're like a sister to me. I took your for granted. I'm sorry about that. Let's hope I can make up for lost time from now on."

... and right before my eyes started to "sweat"...

" J.B. you are one of the coolest and funnest friends I'll ever have from Cincinnati.
Sharing a house with you was an incredible adventure. This is not good-bye, just a see you later friend.
You were like a big brother to me, even though we didn't always see eye-to-eye on life, I know you would never let anything bad happen to me. I trusted you with my life! There's nothing to forgive.
I love you dude. Don't be a stranger. Cincinnati, Bogota, the North Pole, Timbuktu, wherever I am, you know you'll always have a place to stay with me. 
I love you dude, really."

... I never imagine I'd make him sniffle.

After our everlasting bear hug, I left.

You live, you leave, you cry, you smile... you change.