tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87923956311886690732024-03-14T00:00:36.388-04:00Mafe learns to writeLife is giving me lemons.
I tried making lemonade and got sick of it.
Then tried adding Tequila for some Margarita...
Now I'm trying to NOT become an alcoholic.Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.comBlogger128125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-9792190600558427562018-03-15T12:01:00.001-04:002018-03-15T12:07:25.875-04:00So he said (6)<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- We need to talk.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- Yes, we do.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Are you thinking what I'm thinking?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- I think so...</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Are we both ready to say good-bye?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- A good-bye of the loving heart? yes. A good-bye from my friend? I don't know if I want to.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- I don't want to say good-bye to my friend either.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- See you soon, but not too soon?</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Yes</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- I'll miss you... </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Me too.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- Don't hate me. </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Never</span><br />
<br />
<br />
It's been a couple of months, and everything's a-ok.<br />
So it's true, you live, you learn.<br />
The heart knows what it wants, your scars are battle wounds that make you stronger.</div>
Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-64731658129624842152018-03-08T15:36:00.000-05:002018-03-08T15:38:32.108-05:00Washing the brain...<b>Finish the sentences:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Always in my bag <i>house keys, transit card/car keys, wallet, cell phone, reusable bag, EOS ball thingie.</i></li>
<li>A bad habit that I have <i>Procrastinating</i></li>
<li>First thing I do in the morning <i>press the SNOOZE button.</i></li>
<li>A fear I have: <i>overestimating my capabilities.</i></li>
<li>Currently loving on the interwebz: <i>Google Chrome's thumbnails (because I'm an academic geek)</i></li>
</ul>
<b>Choose one:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Summer/Winter - <i>winter</i></li>
<li>Breakfast/Dinner - <i>dinner</i></li>
<li>City/Countryside - <i>city</i></li>
<li>Sunrise/Sunset - <i>sunset</i></li>
<li>Nutella/PeanutButter - <i>hummus (¿?)</i></li>
<li>Bath/Shower - <i>shower</i></li>
<li>Pancakes/Waffles - <i>pancakes</i></li>
<li>Dine it/Takeaway - <i>dine in</i></li>
</ul>
<b>Beauty favorites (Huh? Do I have any?)</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Make up brand: <i>Clinique</i></li>
<li>Skincare brand: <i>Clinique</i></li>
<li>Can't-live-without-product: <i>Dramatically different moistusizing gel by Clinique</i></li>
<li>A product that I dislike: <i>anything Clean & clear... ew!</i></li>
<li>A favorite place to shop for makeup: <i>Blush-Bar</i></li>
<li>Favorite beauty IG account: <i>@cremitasperfumadas</i></li>
</ul>
<br />
From Ingrid Nielsen's <a href="https://www.instagram.com/stories/ingridnilsen/?hl=es-la" target="_blank">IG stories</a>.Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-56722457952804638902018-02-02T15:11:00.000-05:002018-02-02T15:11:52.680-05:00Mother of all f**ks!<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/z4-xFseaLTM" width="480"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"No good deed goes unpunished, all helpful urges should be circumvented"</i></div>
Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-44020744120304854922018-01-17T14:05:00.002-05:002018-01-20T22:16:23.008-05:00So he said... (5)<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- So... how do you feel?</span><br />
<div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- Empty inside</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Funny... ha... ha... you just had surgery. HOW DO YOU FEEL?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- Can't talk, everything hurts.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Sleep baby girl.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">-----</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Would you call yourself a "cancer survivor"?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- That'd be too much, and an insult to real cancer survivor</b>s.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- If you had to label yourself, what would it be?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- Bullet-dodger?</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div style="color: black;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Sounds cool</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;">
<div style="color: black;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>- I was thinking Angelina Jolie "colombian version" but maybe that'd be too much.</b></span></div>
<div style="color: black;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- You're right... the "air bunnies" gave it away.</span></div>
<div style="color: black;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></div>
<div style="color: black;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></div>
</span></div>
Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-39725976368359353442017-12-07T11:10:00.003-05:002018-01-20T22:15:39.419-05:00Gurl talkSo... this just happened:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;">Her: Guuuuuurl! my husband has just been named DEAN!!</span><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;">Me: I knooooooow gurl! congrats! should I call you 'First Lady' now?</span></b><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;">Her: Haha... You know it gurl!</span><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;">Me: Huge responsiblity, huh?</span></b><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;">Her: That's what they said once he accepted: it's the second most honorable title at the University, good name BUT with an incredibly huge work load, extra long hours, same paycheck, 10 scheduled meetings per week, giving up his research projects... how lucky are we?</span><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;">Me: I'm pretty sure the other person proposed by the Chair of Directors and the University President is truly happy your guy won.</span></b><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;">Her: Lucky bastard. I'll be sure to thank him when, if I ever meet him.</span><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;">Me: In that case... you're welcome?</span></b><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;">Her: ...</span><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;">Me: ...</span></b><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;">Her: I never meant the "bastard" part. I know I love you gurl.</span><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;">Me: I know gurl.</span></b><br />
<br />
<b>----------------</b><br />
<br />
Yeah, I was first runner-up for Dean.<br />
Again.<br />
Yeah, I was offered the position two years ago.<br />
<br />
And I said "<i>It'll be an honor, but not yet... I'll let you know when</i>".<br />
Again.<br />
And they said: "<i>Ok</i>".<br />
Again.<br />
<br />Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-26762974391285090992017-12-06T06:01:00.001-05:002017-12-06T06:01:25.517-05:00So he said (4)...<span style="color: #cc0000;">- I HAVE TIX FOR BRUNO MAAAAAAAAARS!?!?! Wanna come?</span><br />
<div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Ummmmmmmm...</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- I know, you no like-y.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- And you know if it was Pablo Milanes or Mercedes Sosa I'd go.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- Huh?</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- You know, Southamerican folk music?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- Are you sure you're bulgarian-american? not full argentinian?</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- That's what my mom said.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- Oh honey... she lied.</span><br />
<br /></div>
Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-66666147249892136022017-12-02T01:22:00.001-05:002017-12-02T01:22:32.414-05:00So he said... (3)While driving...<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Wait! I like that song! What's its name?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- Lemme check my phone.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Shazam?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- Nope... Siri, what's the name of that song?</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- ...</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- Nothing</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Try again?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- Siri, what's the name of that song?</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- ...</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- Nothing</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Is something wrong with your iPhone?</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- I don't have an iPhone.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- 😮</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- 😎</span></div>
Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-90182419391982226032017-11-06T08:56:00.000-05:002017-11-20T08:56:21.586-05:00Weird is such a strong word<br />
It's funny how you spent a good amount to time saying "I don't want to"... but then life says "I don't care, I simply won't let you".<br />
<br />
It feels funny.<br />
Not angry.<br />
Not sad.<br />
Not unfair.<br />
<br />
And pretty weird.Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-15472852005929860272017-10-11T18:57:00.000-04:002017-10-11T18:57:11.304-04:00Shout out to my stalkers!!Apparently I have stalkers... yay?<br />
And I know them, but I don't know when, how or why they stalk me.<br />
<br />
Actually, I do know why.<br />
As far as I know, my school friends are the only ones luuuuurking around these pages.<br />
They asked about me not writting much here and well, to be honest I don't have as many funky adventures as I did before, much less the time to write about it.<br />
<br />
Still, I love mah gurls!<br />
Miss you when I don't see you as much as I should and love you more than we did when we were 10.Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-25175539608359914882017-09-26T10:34:00.001-04:002017-09-26T10:41:40.817-04:00So he said... (ii)<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- How was the Dr.'s appointment</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- I need surgery</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- WHAT?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- Nothing major, in-and-out. Nothing to worry</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- I'll be out of the office 4 days. But it's standard...</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- No, seriously, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- About what?</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- OUR CIRQUE DU SOLEIL TIX!!!!</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- ¿?</span><br />
-<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> What?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- They'll cut me open the week AFTER the circus.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- Great!</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">- It makes me so happy you have your priorities in order.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">- I know, right?</span>Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-23476801686164253242017-06-01T10:29:00.000-04:002017-06-01T10:29:33.280-04:00Among office people (1)I guess this will be the place where I let go off the steam that comes with sharing office space with many personalities and moods.<br />
<br />
No one reads this stuff anymore so... yeap.Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-36120563421771268342017-05-05T10:36:00.000-04:002017-05-05T10:36:00.849-04:00A dream is a wish your heart makes?I had a dream... <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was having a comfortable and civilized conversation.</div>
<div>
He asked me about life, about love.</div>
<div>
I replied with simple words like "happy", "nice", "useful", "promising"... I had nothing to complain.</div>
<div>
He asked about my job.</div>
<div>
I said "incredible", "changes", "happy", "tired"...</div>
<div>
He said he'd stalked me from time to time.</div>
<div>
It surprised me.</div>
<div>
I said I did it on him, once or twice. Nothing much, moving on.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And then I woke up.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Moving on... and having a weird dream that's becoming a blur the more I try to recreate it in my mind.</div>
Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-40999603672091413442017-02-27T17:43:00.001-05:002017-09-26T10:41:32.965-04:00So he said... (i)<i>"I believe you'd make a great mom"</i><br />
<br />
And, for the first time in a long time, I didn't have much to say.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-92023666551256497112016-09-30T10:51:00.000-04:002016-09-30T10:51:17.808-04:00We've come a long way hun...<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/CvewElZjy4I?rel=0" width="400"></iframe></div>
Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-48628747041157020562016-02-16T08:30:00.002-05:002016-02-16T08:30:34.035-05:00With great power comes...... plenty of sleepless nights.<br />
<br />
One year after landing my dream job, the one I was really looking for, the one I wanted and fought to the mattresses for, I got a promotion.<br />
<br />
Whuuuut?<br />
<br />
Yeap.<br />
<br />
When you're growing up, reading "Head of...", "Director of..." on your presentation cards means a bigger office, a secretary, a CM and a PR (actually, learning what those meant...) YAY!<br />
<br />
Check, check, check, check...<br />
<br />
What they never tell you is how you'll be working 24/7, having your entire life on your smartphone, arriving at the office when is dark, before the sun comes out and before everyone else; and leaving when is dark, after everone else is gone.<br />
<br />
Learning to deal with people who want to have a fight with you just because... that's the part I hate the most.<br />
<br />
My mom and dad keep telling my I can do it. My sisters say I've earned it.<br />
<br />
I heard this voice on the other side of the phone saying:<br />
<i>Think about it Ñoñi, you have the power now; you'll be able to clean house and do all the amazing things you've always wanted to. You may work twice as hard, but the reward will be four---five times bigger! You're meant to do great things... don't run!</i><br />
<br />
But I don't want to work in between confrontations!<br />
I didn't attend 7 years of graduate school for this... but then again, that's what my last 2 years were about.<br />
<br />
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait--- I fought my way into two diplomas, in a foreing language, in a foreing country, ready to lose it all.<br />
<br />
Pfffffffffffffffff!<br />
<br />
I wrote an entire thesis and took a professional degree test on the same week.<br />
<br />
I worked two jobs while teaching a Master's class and never missed my yoga+spinning+swinning session and went dancing twice a week in 2 years.<br />
<br />
I had the head of Graduate School apologize to me for that my ass*** advisor did to me.<br />
<br />
This will be NOTHING compared to bitch-slapping H.Wei's lab.<br />
<br />
Ok now.<br />
I'm ready.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999;">I honestly had this epiphany while writting... it's true blogs are the psichoanalist you can't <strike>afford</strike> can't go to because it's past 8PM and you're still at the office finishing two presentations you're supposed to do on two different parts of the planet.</span></i><br />
<div>
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999;"><br /></span></i></div>
</blockquote>
Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-55846039647082320212015-11-01T18:51:00.001-05:002015-11-01T18:51:59.596-05:00I'm getting f***ng old, manTurns out working is making me sick.<br />
The work I looooove... is making me sick.<br />
<br />
I never imagined I'd be one of those people who went to the doctor and got a "<i>Vertigo due to work stress</i>"... and a doctor's tsk-tsk face.<br />
He said I need a day off, I said NO.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #a64d79;">I had a full week off when I went to Mexico two weeks ago</span>, I said.<br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I really? and why did you go there?</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79;">I went to a conference... I had a couple of presentations, a meeting, a workshop and...</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">So, work.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79;">Not really, I rode a bike a couple of times...</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I know that's part of your work.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79;">I went out with friends...</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">How many days were you there and how many hours did you do NOTHING?</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79;">8 days... a few.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">How many weekends have you "worked from home" (he did the airbunnies thingie) the last 11 months?</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79;">Ummmm... the last... ummmm... 4 times 11 is... 40?</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">That's it little girl. You're grounded. No more working weekends for you!!</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79;">..................</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img height="239" src="http://weknowmemes.com/generator/uploads/generated/g1385495544273292669.jpg" width="320" /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-28416738226062795612015-10-22T23:13:00.000-04:002015-10-22T23:13:03.402-04:00The inimaginable has happened...After all those years of sleepless nights, tears, wishful thinking, realising who I am... it happened.<br />
<br />
The A-word is now part of my vocabulary.<br />
<br />
I am now someone's ADVISOR.<br />
<br />
SAY WHAAAAAAAAAT???<br />
Yeah-huh gurl.<br />
<br />
Today, I got this from a friend, my little dude said it was true.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;">All in all, all's good...</span></div>
<br />Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-14736744679396902062015-09-21T00:52:00.001-04:002015-09-21T00:52:26.830-04:00The new soundtrack of mah life , baby!<div style="text-align: left;">Why bother writing when dear old Freddy can say it for me?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HgzGwKwLmgM" width="459"></iframe></div>Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-83626087567841055222015-08-09T17:21:00.001-04:002015-08-09T17:21:10.070-04:00You grow up...... and it's your birthday.<br />
<br />
And one of your dearest friends is missing.<br />
And you find out she's sick.<br />
And then you ask what's going on.<br />
And someone tells you she's not well.<br />
And you talk to your friend, the Doctor.<br />
And he's brutally honest, but it's that's what you asked for.<br />
And then you call her.<br />
And you hear the words: transplant, bone marrow...<br />
And all you can say is something stupid like: <i>Be honest, you're getting a lipo AND boobs!</i><br />
And she laughs.<br />
<br />
And then... then what?<br />
<div>
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She starts treatment tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Life... huh?Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-40945755507137246742015-07-02T00:20:00.002-04:002015-07-02T00:20:33.305-04:00Apocalypse nowWhile getting ready for the end of the world... my friend Andy mentioned how we were supposed to prepare for thunder and kaboom and all that jazz.<br />
But nononono... just don't. Zeus is the one with the thunder and the rays and the music.<br />
Jesus is more into big productions, he goes BIG. He makes it rain...... <b><span style="color: #6aa84f;">FROGS!</span></b><br />
<br />
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, frogs have been raining on my little world, an old blast from the past has been lurking around my little social media platforms.<br />
<br />
Fun thing, I don't know how it happened but one of her associates managed to find my work e-mail and boom! she sent a message to the only electronic mailbox I manage.<br />
Soon she'll Facebook friend request me, maybe follow me on twitter. Maybe even commenting on one of the websites I collab.<br />
<br />
Get ready folks, the horsemen are coming!<br />
<br />
I've been told I'm moving to a new office in a couple of months so I don't think they'll be able to find me.<br />
I'll leave a post-it at the door, just in case.<br />
<br />
Did you really think my baby little soul would write back?<br />
<br />
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Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-83124753581220357682015-06-29T21:34:00.003-04:002015-06-29T21:34:38.897-04:00Psychology's my jam... or notApparently, I look like a Psychologist... or a terrorist negotiator.<br />
<br />
There's this boy, who's a friend (oooo0o0o0o0hhhh!!!! ---no, it's not what you think), who has a sister to went to Paris for a Master's 4 years ago. She called a couple of weeks ago, she's not coming back.<br />
I don't understand why, but he's going crazy.<br />
<br />
In a very strange state of mind, he called me for moral support.<br />
He invited me to his house to talk some sense into her.<br />
He was going to call her (or Skype her, or whatever) and I was supposed to convince her to come back home.<br />
Problem was, at the time I agreed to do it, I didn't know the entire story.<br />
I went to his place mostly for the booze.<br />
<br />
Of course, before talking to the girl, I asked some background questions and well... this happened:<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">Me: Why are you so angry?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">O: She PROMISED she was going to be back after 2 years. What is she doing there?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">Don't ask me, have you asked her?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">No... but really, what is she doing there?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">Dude... she's living in Paris... France... Europe... </span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">She needs to start acting like an adult, she must take command of her life!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">.... ohh... take command of HER life... and do what YOU want... right?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">(shut up!)</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Why doesn't she come back home? she'll have a roof over her head here!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">OMG... is she homeless??</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">No, she has a little tiny apartment. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">But she has a place she can afford by herself, right?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Yeah, but if she were here, she'd be living with my mom, with a maid and a cook. She'll have EVERYTHING!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">I see... hey... do you like this apartment?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">I love it!!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">How hard was it to find it... furnish it?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Oh... really hard.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">How big is this place?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">It's tiny... nothing big.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">What would you say if your mom told you to get rid of it, live with her, with a maid and a cook. So you can have EVERYTHING!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">I'd be ma---- shut. up.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">Ok</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">She's not a little girl anymore, she's been there for 4 years. Don't you think it's about time she settles down?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">How old are you?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">40</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">This is a nice place... </span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Thanks!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">Are you 100% happy with your life? work? paycheck? love?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Well... no.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">So, you're not done yet.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Nah.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">When I met you 15 years ago you were really struggling... so in 2 years she's supposed to do what you haven't been able to do in over 16 years. Why?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">(shut up!)</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">She says she's happy there, how can she be happy without her family?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">How can se be happy with a group of people that belittles her?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">She's a spoiled brat. She gets mad every time I write on her Facebook wall: "Sissy, You'll always be my baby"</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">And still, you DEMAND for her to act like an adult... smart move man.</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">She's my baby sister, she's not supposed to suffer. She's a princess. She's my little dove.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">OH... C'MON!!! I'm gonna puke from all that corny!!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">But it's true!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">Don't you want your sister to be a strong, independent, reliable, incredibly smart woman?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">My little angel.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">You're an ass.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>WHAT?!?!?!</b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">Don't make the call, I'm not talking to her.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">But... it's my birthday, do it as a present for me</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">(Oh fuck) ---- No man, not going to happen. I'll bake you a birthday cake, I'll take you out... right now, but I won't make the call.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">I'll make the call.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">Good! You make the call, ask her about her life. Ask her what is she doing... tell her you're PROUD of her and all she's accomplished.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">I can't lie.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">It's not a lie, I know deep down you're proud of her.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">I won't lie</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79;">You're an ass... and I'm not going to bake you a cake or take you out.</span></i><br />
<br />
------<br />
<br />
Apparently, it was a win/win/win situation.<br />
A couple of weeks later the sister got a phone call from the brother letting her know how proud he was of her... and how much he respected her decisions; the brother got a little peace of mind, and most importantly; the terrorist negotiator got a dinner invitation... yay!Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-72769152003419533102015-04-27T16:51:00.001-04:002015-04-27T16:51:28.490-04:00Life's a bitchGetting home with a letter from the big big boss saying I've earned a promotion after 3 months on the job.<br />
Reducing many many MANY letters and emails requesting permits and burocratic issues with a cell phone filled with numbers and now friendly names helping me with all the crazy bike plans I'm cooking.<br />
Meetings, meetings, students, students, plans, plans... taking all my time.<br />
Getting home so tired I haven't been able to stay awake and watch tv in weeks.<br />
Leaving home so early and coming back so late the doorman actually said: "Hello miss! I thought you were out of town! I haven't seen you in a while."<br />
<br />
Being the happiest version of me I've been in years.<br />
Smiling so much my cheeks hurt when I think about it.<br />
<br />
Stopping in the middle of a busy day to attend a funeral.<br />
<br />
Life has a bitch sense of humor.Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-65359053495280435612015-04-24T07:16:00.004-04:002015-04-24T07:16:59.216-04:00My own quantum physicsI keep all the clocks and watches around myself, even my wristwatch, 5 minutes ahead.<br />
Of course, that makes me 5 minutes early to all my appointments, It makes me a happy camper.<br />
<br />
All happy, all camper-y... except this week:<br />
<br />
The lady that cleans my apartment fixed the time on all those watches, they're now ON TIME.<br />
<br />
I've been 10 minutes LATE to every single on my appointments this week.<br />
<br />
How does that happen? The only reasonable explanation is, there's a time vortex at my door that turns a -5 minute difference equivalent to a +15 minute result.<br />
<br />
<br />Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-13464333119803707182015-04-07T02:17:00.002-04:002015-04-07T02:17:44.659-04:00So, the girls met the guy and...<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">- Since when do you have a thing for hippies?</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79;"><b>- Since geeks turned out to be asses.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">- Good point, good point -------------- are you serious?</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79;"><b>- Yeap.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">- Don't forget to send an hippie invite for your hippie wedding.</span><br />
<b style="color: #a64d79;">- (y)</b><br />
<br />
<br />Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792395631188669073.post-13047306162915838872015-04-04T02:08:00.000-04:002015-04-04T02:13:47.835-04:00Lucky number five, times a hundredI've been collecting lucky bamboos for a while now.<br />
<br />
Well, let's not call it "collecting", taking care of and then releasing into the world, or something...<br />
<br />
I got my first one while living in Cincinnati. It was a pretty little thing someone got as part of a minimalistic deco composition for a 2 bedroom apartment.<br />
<br />
Then, I moved to New Jersey and I had to leave my lucky bamboo in the hands of an incredibly stupid woman, who at the time I called "friend" (but that's another story, written somewhere else).<br />
At the time, there was this dude who offered to drive my little lucky from OH to NJ, but I didn't want to complicate something that was already looking complicated ---- which, a few years later got horribly complicated and I ended up burning bridges all around the midwest, the Dakotas and West coast, catch my complicated drift?<br />
<br />
Anyway, anyhow, any who...<br />
<br />
Once in NJ, I got a new lucky bamboo, very Swedish, very much from Ikea.<br />
Unfortunately, I had to leave NJ, and lucky bamboo #2 couldn't come with me . I'm pretty sure it's dead by now. Sorry little dude, shit happens.<br />
<br />
As I returned to Cincy, one of the few significant things I wanted to take back was lucky #1.<br />
When I asked for it, the woman I left it to started to cry. She'd let my bamboo die... I mean.... HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KILL A BAMBOO??? how stupid are you?? that creature may have a thousand academic degrees and diplomas but... it's water once every two weeks woman. How hard is it!?!?!<br />
<br />
Well, it hurt at the time, but when I moved to a new apartment by myself, I got a mini tiny lucky bamboo.<br />
Lucky #3 grew to about 6-7 times his original size in a couple of months, which make my incredibly proud. My green thumb existed!!<br />
A few weeks later, this guy I met saw my baby all alone, said they were not supposed to be by themselves and got it a brother, lucky #4.<br />
<br />
Lucky #4 gave me enough confidence to get more brothers, sisters and cousins from all around and my little apartment became the little peace of heaven I always wanted but was not "allowed", with flowers, plants and herbs that filled my apartment with colours and scents even during the coldest of winters.<br />
<br />
Last year I moved again. This time I was not going to be able to take my bamboos with me... or any of my plants for that matter.<br />
Mr. Big offered to take them, but it was going to be tooooooooo complicated. So I gave half of them to my former roommate and the other half, including my two luckies, to my amazing neighbour. I'm pretty sure he's taking great care of my babies.<br />
<br />
<i>*** Fast forward, 6 months ***</i><br />
<br />
My aunt gave me a big, big, really big... HUGE succulents pot as a Christmas present, now sitting on the highest shelf in my office.<br />
It came as a bunch of little babies, and now it's a pretty little jungle.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
[sigh] --- Lucky #5 came two weeks ago to my apartment. He's getting used to his new place and I'm getting used to seeing something pretty, something familiar, something from another time and place.<br />
<br />
After #5? ferns, peonies, lemongrass, mint, basil... I'm slowly getting my little jungle back.<br />
<br />
Can't complain. Life's good.Mafehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12606013566608050452noreply@blogger.com0