Mr. Big (ii)

...

So... flat and basic, is that how you're rolling now?
Flat and basic?
Yeah... flat.
Are you calling me FLAT?
Woah! I'm not saying that YOU are flat! Never!
I don't get it.
You . are . not . FLAT.
Oh?... oooooohhh... nooo dude! I've lost weight in all the right places, except THERE. 
Honestly, one of these days if I lose my balance I'll land flat on my face.
ROLTFL!!
I'm serious!
Is your mass center higher than it used to be?
Absolutely.
HAAAAAAAA!!!! you mean, when it rains your feet don't get wet?
Something like that...
Or... when it...
Coooooooooool it. I get it, YOU get it, we ALL get it...

Soccer mom-acita

My boss-man is Finnish, a big-smart-cool Finnish who has visited Colombia on several occasions.
I'm the weakest link on the food chain in this office, the mini-student adviser that has a tiny desk, a tiny cubicle and a tiny patience for students that show up with tiny brains and ends up making fun of them... in front of them and they don't notice.
Fortunately for me, my co-workers find it amusing... oops!

The good thing? my boss-man likes my work.
The bad thing? my boss-man is chatty.

The cool thing? my boss-man likes to talk about many things, and apparently each one of the members of this office is in charge of talking about a specific topic:

• The receptionist talks about the weather.
• The administrative manager talks about current events.
• The Interior Design adviser's topic is Nascar (eww?)
• The Fashion Desing adivser's supossed to talk about theater and movies.
• The Account and Marketing person talks about politics.

... and so on..

Me? apparently my accent and the fact that I'm SouthAmerican got the SOCCER tag stuck to my forehead.

So yeah, poor Mr. boss-man, if I'm the one he can talk about soccer... that poor man is... well... a poor man.


Talking with this guy I've learned A LOT about soccer, well... more than I've already knew, which was... close to nothing:

Cristiano Ronaldo is not only the biggest closeted jean-selling homosexual in the world. Apparently he plays for Real Madrid.

Gerard Pique was a soccer player before becoming Shakira's baby-maker, [mind = blown!]

David Bekam is married to that ugly SpiceGirl skeleton and has 3 babies with weird names, right? turns out he plays for a French team... Oh, and I learned to spell B-e-c-k-h-a-m.

Ronaldinho is not the Jar-Jar-Binks of soccer; against all odds, he plays for Atletico Mineiro, not the "Death Star FC".

Lionel Messi... well... I knew he was famous but I didn't know exactly how he looked like. I always thought he was Italian, but he's Argentinian. No wonder he appears on Argentinian cereal commercials. Duh!. Well, now I know he plays in Barcelona... and that he's supposed to be the best soccer player in the world, but he's not cute.

Radamel Falcao is Colombian (check, I knew that) and plays for Atletico Madrid and--- wait... I knew he played for the Portuguese!!!!! How long have I been living under a rock?!?!?

I always thought Kaka was an old  man but... wow! hello Mr. Cute!! Real Madrid has a good casting director.

Samuel Eto'o is african, I knew that. But did you know he plays for the Russkies??

Carlos Puyol is... eww... nevermind! He fugly, girl!!!

Zlatan Ibrahimovic is not the highest scoring word in Scrabble but a cute-eyed Swedish that plays in Paris Saint-Germain. Which is, fyi, a french team that has a really cool seal with the Arc-do-Triomphe and something that looks like a baby stroller on it... or a tub. I don't know.

Wayne Rooney is a funny British guy that is not part of the "Monty Python" or "The Office" original casts. He plays for Manchester United which, I guess... is a famous team because I've heard of them but don't really care about it.

And last, but certainly not least, Volkan Demirel is the hottest man alive... Period.

Histrionic wishing

Watching the Oscars made me realize something.

I'd like to have a friend...

... to watch the Oscars, Emmys, SAGs, Tonys... with, and laugh at the stupid jokes because this friend actually understands what's happening.
... that knows about movies as much than I do... or more (it's easy, I don't know THAT much)
... that loves going to the theater like I do and gets as excited as I do when going to a play.
... that plays "6 degrees of separation" among actors while watching a movie at home.
... that won't make fun of me because I'm a theater geek and I know some songs and story lines from musicals, like my friends did... which, honestly? made me REALLY sad.

I'm not being bitchy, my friends are amazing and I love them, but it hurt.

This was, probably the first time in my adult life that I felt bullied.
It sounds stupid, I know, but...

... anyway.

I've written about this already

I did! A long time ago, in another life actually.

Here's the thing:
I hate snow-ball-yes--fine people.

I learned, a long time ago, in another life, that you must always answer the following question as honest as possible:

Are you ok?

Yeah, for guys, this is a weird statement. Duh! of course! How else would you answer that?!?!

But for girls... oh hell... us girls, we are STUPID.
Or some of you are, like I used to be, STUPID.

We think the world can read our minds and pouts and faces and, NO, it's not going to happen.

If someone asks you something like that, it's because, in fact, it seems something's wrong with you. That bitchy attitude does not come for free. That hate expression in your face is not normal and... well, don't get me started on the hard stumping around the house.
The person that blurted the question, call him boyfriend, husband, father, girlfriend... is being brave enough to ask if there is something going on in your twisted little head. The least you can do, as an act of decency is reply as honestly as you can... don't just look to the heavens above and say:

Yes... fine...

IF YOU'R NOT FINE!!!

Listen, I'm very girly, and I used to be like that but trust me I also learned, a long time ago that "faking it" only works when the guy needs a confidence boost but you have to wake up early the day after.

People cannot read minds and, guess what? Amazon.com's waiting list for Crystal balls is as long as hell and delayed as luggage on an international trip on Christmas Eve. So, do the world a favor and answer that stupid question as honestly as you can.

Oh, but if you don't think I'm right, you can make things funky:

If you DO decide to keep lying, please, please DO let pain accumulate and DO let a snow-ball of hate grow into your head. Yeah, that would make everything much better.
Yes, lie and blame the world for whatever is making YOU unhappy.
That's the best thing you can do to make your life easier and annoy everyone around you.

Keep up the good work!

Blue bird talk

If someone makes you happy it doesn't matter if he loves you or not.

You just go after it because you deserve it.

You're not less human than anyone else.

You deserve to be happy. 

(talking with my friend Ana)

The idea is still spinning in my head.
I should stop being a coward and do something about it.

You're a mean one...

You're a mean one Mafe Grinch
You really are a heel
You're as cuddly as a cactus
You're as charming as an eel
Mafe Grinch!!
You're a bad banana with a... greasy black peel.



[just play it...] 

That's what some of my friends are calling me today.
Turns out I'M A GRINCH!

Just because I think Valentine's Day is no more or less special than any other day of the year... except Christmas... and my birthday, of course.

No, this is not heart-broken Mafe speaking, that one fell asleep some time ago. I'm fine now, thank you very much for asking.

On my defense, there are two things I can't stand:

Number One:

Colombia doesn't celebrate Valentine's day, we have another date to celebrate those kind of things: it's called "Love and Friendship day" on September 15th.

Yes, there are some Colombians that celebrate V-day, which, in my own and VERY personal opinion is ridiculous. Before this globalization mumbo-gumbo and internetz came to life, not many people in my country knew what this was about. Now, they want to be more "NorthAmericanized"* and pretend they are something they're not, which, for me is... well.. completely stupid.

Don't pretend to be cool by being something you're not... that's the OPPOSITE of cool.

And yes, there are some of us that live here in the US, with native lovers/husbands/wives/blah-blah-blah and all that stuff... fine, you're part of the culture now, don't do it because everyone else does it.

So, no.

Number Two:

Even the Colombian L&F day was a blah! day for me.

No, it wasn't because of lack of love OR friendship. I've had my share!

I'm no anti-romance or anti-love. It's just that I don't HAVE to be romantic because Hallmark tells me to be.

If you're the person I love, you'll receive surprises from me... just because.

I'll cook for you, even though I'm not a good cook. The best present from you would be eating any concoction I put together, no matter how yucky it tastes... do that and I'll be forever in love.

If I see something you might like I'll give it to you, just because. Seeing you enjoying it will make me smile for hours.

I'll learn about your favorite things, just because. You learning about mine will make me the happiest woman in the world.

I'll send you cute and sexy txt's, just because. Your replies will melt my heart... and well... everything else.

So, no.

Yes, I am a mean one, but not a Grinch.

This post goes hand-in-hand with the previous one.
Oh man...

* NorthAmericanized... because America is a continent, not a country. 
But that's another story.

One night

That's all it took for me to see you in a different way.

One night talking about you and me, talking about being happy, about being important.
One night sharing stories.
One night being serious and being funny. Being children and adults.
One night when I felt "worshiped"... yeah, before you said it, I felt it.
One short night.

On that night your arms became the coziest place in the entire world.
I heard your voice as the soothing sound I needed.
I felt you warmth even though the cold wind was chilling the Universe.
I felt your hand holding mine, taking me to a place I wanted to be.
I felt your heart... beating... beating... beating.

One night, that's all it took for me to find you.
Did you find me?

One night, that's all it took for us to destroy it.

I miss you T.

I really do.