So he said (4)...

- I HAVE TIX FOR BRUNO MAAAAAAAAARS!?!?! Wanna come?

- Ummmmmmmm...
- I know, you no like-y.
- And you know if it was Pablo Milanes or Mercedes Sosa I'd go.
- Huh?
- You know, Southamerican folk music?
- Are you sure you're bulgarian-american? not full argentinian?
- That's what my mom said.
- Oh honey... she lied.

So he said... (3)

While driving...

- Wait! I like that song! What's its name?
- Lemme check my phone.
- Shazam?
- Nope... Siri, what's the name of that song?
- ...
- Nothing
- Try again?
- Siri, what's the name of that song?
- ...
- Nothing
- Is something wrong with your iPhone?

- I don't have an iPhone.
- 😮
- 😎

Apocalypse now

While 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.
But nononono... just don't. Zeus is the one with the thunder and the rays and the music.
Jesus is more into big productions, he goes BIG. He makes it rain...... FROGS!

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.

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.
Soon she'll Facebook friend request me, maybe follow me on twitter. Maybe even commenting on one of the websites I collab.

Get ready folks, the horsemen are coming!

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.
I'll leave a post-it at the door, just in case.

Did you really think my baby little soul would write back?

Being an immigrant, plus interest

"Once an immigrant, always an immigrant".

That's what my best friend in the entire universe just said to me.

It doesn't matter how long you've been away, how long you've been back, or even if you never go back to the first place; you'll always long for something you left back home or back where you used to live.

Family, friends, food, places, scents... your furniture won't be the same.

You may be sleeping in the same bed you used too 12 years ago, you may be sleeping in the most amazing bed  in the world... no, it'd never be the same.

You've earned the right to say I've been there, I've done that, I've seen such-and-such. You've been all over the world and back, you've fought giants and demons, but you've also missed many things you can't bring back: birthdays, funerals, births, fights, weddings, tragedies... simple moments that will never come back.

How much are you willing to pay for it?

Does it really have a price?

I know I'd give my head to be able to cuddle in bed with my mom while she "sleeps tv".

I'd take both my arms to be able to spend an entire day with Mona doing nothing.

I'd give my heart to bike around with Cata, just because she's into biking now.

I know I would give all I have to take care of my dad while he's recovering from surgery.

But at the same time, I kill to spend my weekends with the most amazing man on earth, making my grandma's empanadas and pineapple and ham pizza.

Being able to get away from it all and visit my best friend in the entire universe is as valuable as 10 gold mines.

I don't want to be away from MY river front where the view is amazing, the breeze is soothing, the company is always nice and I can bike around any time.

My apartment... oh, don't get me started.

Put everything on the line and check, how much are you willing to lose, how much are you going to get from it?

Is it worth it?

Is a 6-digit salary worth missing the first steps of your nephew?

Is a brand-new car worth not being able to go to the spa with your long-time best guuuurl friends?

Think again:

Would those 6-digits help the ones you're leaving behind?

Is anything or anyone making you happier that you've ever been, far away from the place you used to call home and the people you used to call "your family"?

The answer is never easy, nor it's the same for everyone.

We have a saying in Colombia: "Quien lo vive es quien lo goza".

Only the one who has been to the party knows how much fun it was.

Each one of us has a personal and very intimate party going on in our lives (pff… that came out wrong), the decisions we made would probably make no sense to the world but they do to us, so... fuck it.

Make a decision and start walking.

Just remember: you can try, but you can never be 100% in someonelse's shoes.

This is for Natalia, Luisfer, Cristina, Alejandro, Yeli, Dianila, Laura and all the Babel citizens I've met on this planet.

Having a baby

... now that I have your attention...

No, I'm not HAVING a baby, I HAVE two babies.

Want to meet them?

Click here and here.

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!]

She shoots... SHE SCORES!!!!

Ever since I came to this country, I learned how annoying now speaking a language can be.
Spanish is my mother tongue and my English is, I think, understandable.
Romance languages are very similar to one another so understanding a little bit of Italian, French and Portuguese is not hard... Greek and German? mneh... just a little little tiny bit.

Everything else, not a word. Or a curse word or two.

I've learned how annoying is to be standing in among people that speak the same language and not being able to understand what they say. Personally, I think is rude, incredibly rude. That's why I avoid doing it to others.

When you're in academia in a foreign country, the fact that you speak their official language is a given, because being able to speak such language was a requirement for YOU so THEY can help you issue a student visa right.

Someone will jump and say: the US doesn't have an official language... and all that crap, but in ACADEMIA, English is the official language in the United States of America, right???

WRONG!!

Have I mentioned how much I dislike my thesis adviser?

This individual is not from the US, he comes from a country we'll call "FINA" (not because it rhymes with the real country, or anything like that) where all the "Fineses" speak "Fineese", ok? I don't want to generalize or stereotype BUT I'm pretty pissed at this guy so the best thing I can do is send him to another country in another planet.

Unfortunately for me... and my labmates. I'm the only one who doesn't come from "Fina".
And it's not that my other labmates are real... you know... bad or anything, but it's that they were born in that country so they speak that language. Get it? they come from the same country, get it? get it?
In the beginning of the movie, they're not that bad.

Anyway, my advisor brain thinks is normal to speak Finese in front of all the lab people, eve thought there's a small portion (me) that doesn't understand a word he's saying.

This little portion of the lab (yes, me) has mentioned time and time again how uncomfortable it is to be in the middle of a meeting and having to hear words from a language I don't understand.

The last conversation went a little something like this:
Ad: You have to understand, unlike you, English is not their mother tongue...
Me: English is not my mother tongue, I speak Spanish.
Oh... I thought they spoke English in Spain.
I'm not from Spain... I'm Co-lom-bian... also, they Speak SPANISH in SPAIN.
Well, your English is very good so, you have to bear with them
I can't bear with something I don't understand.
You are keeping yourself away from your labmates, that's not good.
... you're not helping by encouraging them to speak something different than English


NO, I'm noooooooooooooot going to learn Finese. I have a thesis to finish and defend, a job hunt in my hands, an Engineering diploma to homologue in a couple of months... and a life to put together so no, that's out of the question.

I reached the point where whenever they start speaking their own language I pick up my things and leave the room. That's how I protest.
I'm not part of any research project now, I'm working on my own stuff.
I'm not being paid by the advisor, I have a job somewhere around the university.
I just go to the lab because that's where the software I need is, no other reason.
I have a desk and a computer because the rules of the university say so. Otherwise I'm pretty sure that guy would have me working somewhere outside the building.
All of the other Finese are happily working with the Finese adviser and speak Finese in their Finese meetings. You can hear them on the other side of the wall, in the meeting room.

So... my little revenge, and I say little because it was little, but it tasted like heaven:

We were all in the lab, doing our stuff, then all of a sudden the adviser comes and shouts something in Finese.
All the Finese students stood up and left.
What happened? Nuclear bomb? Earthquake drill? Tornado warning?... free food?!?!?!

I stood still on my desk, thinking what to do, when I heard the head of the President of the Faculty Senate's voice (he's on my thesis committee) telling my adviser how important is to keep the meeting room and the lab in spotless clean conditions...
HA! Finese people are not exactly famous for being clean, let me tell you Mr. President-Man.

One of my labmates comes to me and says in a really loud and rude voice, so the adviser and the President can hear him:
"MAFE!! prof. **** just asked us to clean the meeting room and the lab, you are supposed to help us!!!"

I stood up and started walking next to him towards the door and replied in the loudest but sweetest voice that has ever left my lungs, so the adviser and Mr. President-dude see and hear what I said:
"I didn't hear that... you know what? I think he said that in a language I don't understand. 
I don't think it was meant for me to comprehend what he said. 
I don't think it'll be a good idea for me to help you guys. I don't want to upset him. I'll just leave you guys alone. 
I'll be back later when you're done. 
Bye!!"


And left.
And took the morning off.

How do I know I didn't do anything TOO bad?

As I left, I got a *wink*wink* from my President-buddy and the adviser saw it.

GOLGOLGOLGOL

GOLGOLGOLGOL

GOLGOLGOL!!!

GOLGOLGOLGOL

GOLGOLGOL

GOLGOL!!!!

GOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!

Roomie talk (iii)

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

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

Her: Cool. Who's the lucky guy?

Me: This guy...

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

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

Her: Why are you marring him then?

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

Her: There's a thoughtful guy!

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

Her: Obviously!

[two hours later]

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

Me:  -.-

Her: Just checking...

You're not normal

“You could NEVER be normal. You’re special… you’re nice.”

I know that, I’m REALLY special, and maybe TOO nice. It was nice to know someone else believed that.

Someone recently told me that I shouldn’t expect anything from anyone.

The same day, someone else told me: If we don’t expect anything, it means we’re not special or important to anyone.

What’s the meaning of sharing your life with someone if there aren’t any expectations? Why are we together in the first place if not to complement, love and care for each other and fill life with expectations of all kinds?

What about your friends? Are you supposed to expect much from them? Are you supposed to expect them to be “there”… by the way, where is that place called “there”? is it close? I need to know exactly so I can look for a lost friend.

Maybe I’m too nice, maybe I’m stupid, or maybe I’m just anxious to go back to a normal life. Again.

I expected too much and received just enough to break my heart. Again.

I expected to be treated as the “very special” someone I thought I was, but it turns out I was kidding myself.

I pretended to be cool… I can’t be, I can’t hide my feelings and they’re always on my sleeve. I can’t.

I expected too much and forgave more than I should.

Oh dude, I wish you could read this some day…

Every single word I said and wrote to you was true.
The day at San Diego conference, that was all real.
Those incredibly long email "chains"... all true.

I wish I could believe your words were true as well. But it’s hard to believe them when right after you reminded me how special and nice you thought I was, you turned your back as I needed your help because I felt someone wanted to hurt me, I was scared… much less, when you didn’t even noticed how sick it made me feel.

It’s not that I’m not going to miss you. I will, you know it. I'll cry, pffff! a lot! I'm a crybaby, you know it. You've seen me!

It’s just that I can’t let you keep hurting me when I don’t know if you’re being naïve or mean. Or you just don’t care.

It hurt to know that you “deleted” every single link from me from your life; but it hurt me more that you didn’t even notice how I deleted you from mine, two days before.

It hurts!

You see? I was expecting more from you than I should, and it came back and hit me in the face.
My bad.

Remember how you told me: “Don't worry, I’m not going anywhere”?

Tonight I’m wondering if I should make you stick to that promise or just finish clearing all memories from you from my computer, my cell phone, the notebook, that napkin you scribbled last year (no, I never lost it, I found it!)… and my heart.

A knight in shinning armor

Here's one thing:

I don't believe in feminism, chauvinism, machismo, and those isms. I think we are all the same.
Obviously, there are some jobs or things SOME women can't do (myself included) that require a higher physical ability. Sure, for every 3 incredibly strong girls there are 3 incredibly weak guys, and we're even. Right?
Additionally, there are jobs that require attention to detail that SOME men can't do because, well... it's not in their nature. Yes, it's true, SOME guys, not every guy. I've met men that are more into details that some women I know so yeah, it's not fair to generalize.

In other words, there are some people that can, and some people that cannot. Talking about people is easier than talking about gender in this matters, but I need to make a point.

The other thing is:

Yes, I like chivalry. Guilty, sue me.
I like guys that open the door for me.
I like guys that hold an umbrella when it's raining.
I love it when guys offer their coats when it's cold.
It's cool when a guys offers to walk you home.

And it's not because I don't think I can't open a door, or hold an umbrella, remember to wear a jacket or walk by myself or take a cab. No, I'm old fashioned. I can be your buddy, but I'm also a lady so, whatever.
But wait, not because a guy's a gentleman will mean that you can have a Mafe for yourself dude. That's ONE requirement, but not the only one.
Actually, I expect that kind of behavior from all men, not just my husband / boyfriend / lover / one-night-stand. Now that I think about it, most of my guyfriends are complete gentlemen.

Well, and I think this is because yes, I am a Latina, and we're brought up that way.
Theoretically, we are tough cookies, we love to feel sexy and expect to be treated as ladies so... we're tough AND sexy lady-cookies. Does that make sense?
Latin men are brought up to fill the gap, they are taught to open doors, hold umbrellas, offer coats and walk girls home because "It's dangerous! keep her safe! Be a man!"

All things considered, turns out all this education screws things up when decide to live in a part of the world where being like that is not a custom but something, to put it simple, useless if not really a nuisance.

When a Latina meets a guy that does not behave that way, we feel, well... violated. At least I do.
When a Latino meets a girl that does not expect chivalry, it unscrews their bulbs. Trust me, I've seen it happen.



All this to say one thing:

Dude, I don't expect you to come to my rescue when I see a bug or carry me when walking in the rain, but when I say:

"I don't like your buddy because he tried to feel my thighs under the table"

You are NOT supposed to laugh about it and say:

"I don't think so, I'm pretty sure it was a mistake... 

he has a girlfriend, he bumped into you, that's all."

NO.  I KNOW WHAT I FELT. THAT'S HOW RAPE BEGINS.
I may be nice and funny, but nobody, hear me: NOBODY is allowed to touch me if I don't want him/her to. Ok?

By the way, don't worry about txt'ing me lame condescending apologies and trying to justify your asshole of a friend, your phone is no longer on my contact list. Don't bother.

You failed dude, you're out.

PostScript: This is my second post about guys getting too touchy-touchy 

with me...what kind of ass swipes am I surrounding myself with?!?!?!

... full disappointment

Roomie talk (iv)

I just listen, everything she says is wise:


- And then I told my EX: dude! chill! the world is such a fun place... with our without you... well... specially without you, but chill!!


- What do you mean I'm going to hell?? My thing is purgat--- wait, mayb--- and if we don't count the time I... never mind, I'm going to hell.


- That guy's caaah- ute! A funny guy is a sexy guy. Don't you think?
- Sure... and being F***** HOT helps as well."


Mr. big: You girls are sooooooo going to hell!
- See you there!!"


- If you ever needed a reason to love Canada... Ryan Gosling.


- Reality check: who do we know that's available and looks like Ryan G??
- Mmmmm?? I don't think we know anyone like THAT.
- Fuuuuuck! I feel so sorry for my existence!!!


[calling a guy, making him think he MUST throw a party at his place]
- Mafecita!!! aren't we amazing? we organized a party in five minutes!!!
- We are so--- wait --- we? ... we???? ... WE?!?!?!?!
- Fine, I'm amazing... 

Next stop: COLOMBIA

I'm off... going home for business doesn't sound fun or believable.

Well I am.

I'm going to renew my visa before "the man" founds out it was expired (don't worry, my school papers are fine so I'm fine).
I'm going to present my findings at a conference.
I'll teach a class an the Master's... or is it another type of thing? somewhere else.
I'll see some people that may help me with my research and possible job opportunities.

I'll see my family as much as possible and eat as many goodies I can without losing my new acquired and amaaaaah-zing killer shape.

See some friends and some not-so-friendly people I need to see.

I'm off.

Good luck to me.