Shout out to my stalkers!!

Apparently I have stalkers... yay?
And I know them, but I don't know when, how or why they stalk me.

Actually, I do know why.
As far as I know, my school friends are the only ones luuuuurking around these pages.
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.

Still, I love mah gurls!
Miss you when I don't see you as much as I should and love you more than we did when we were 10.

Thinking out loud

When you are done with work late on a Friday night, and all you can think is go home and lay in bed.

When you find you left your cell phone at the office and you have to go back.

When you find a voice message and all you hear someone on the other side singing THIS from the top of his lungs...

When your legs don't work like they used to before

and I can't sweep you off of your feet

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

And darling I will be loving tou 'til we're 70

and baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23

and I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways

maybe just the touch of a hand.

Well me, I fall in love with you every single day

and  I just wanna tell you I am

So honey now...

Take me into your loving arms,

kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.

Place your head on my beating heart,

I'm thinking out loud,

that maybe we found love right where we are.

When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades,

and the crowds don't remember my name,

when my hands don't play the strings the same way,

I know you  will still love me the same.

'Cause house your sould could never grow old, it's evergreen,

and baby your smile's forever in my mind and memory.

I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways,

maybe it's all part of a plan.

Well, I'll just keep on making the same mistakes

hoping that you'll understand.

But baby now...

Take me into your loving arms,

kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.

Place your head on my beating heart,

I'm thinking out loud,

that maybe we found love right where we are.

So honey now...

Take me into your loving arms,

kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.

Oh darling, place your head on my beating heart,

I'm thinking out loud,

that maybe we found love right where we are.

And we found love right where we are.

Yeah, life's all right.

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred moments, oh dear

five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure... measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets?

In in midnights, in cups of coffee?

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife...

In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure, a year in the life?

2014 is almost gone and... I'm getting old. I'm thinking back about my life and thinking: what have I done with all these minutes?

I decided I'm not going to measure this year's success by how much work I had to do. Somedays I don't do much and some others I, honest-to-God, see the light of day and say: Oh Fuuuu--- it's 6AM already? send a finished file and go to bed.

Money? Nah... that's not a burden, or a joy.

So, how succesful was this little piggy (me) during the year?

I snag a picture and had the shortest chat with Rigoberto Urán during Bike week.
Is that success? being more excited about meeting a two-time Giro D'Italia podium winner than meeting Idina Menzel before the now infamous "Let it goocooooooooooo"?
- yeah, I met her too -

A couple of months ago my friends Maria() and Rafa got engaged and a about month ago they told me I was going to be their cyber "Maid of Honor". We're all social network people so I was all: WHO???? MEEEEE!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!

Is that success? becoming an important part of an important event of a couple of strangers you happened to meet a long ago and now they're the geeky cool friends you like to hang out with and they patiently take care of you even though your super allergic to their cats and you have to drug yourself everytime you visit?

During that same day, they took me on the longest bike ride on-mah-life... 95 kms (almost 60 miles).

Ninety-five kilometers!!!!! 65 from the original route + 30 to and from home.

I normally do, 25-30 kms on a Sunday stroll. The longest ever I did in the US was 50, maybe 60 km but this was waaaaaaay longer, and I was alive.

Once it ended, I rode back to my apartment under the pouring rain, all I heared as I hung my bike on the rack was the doorman asking: "Besides all wet like a puppy, are you ok, Miss?"

Is that success? overcoming your own barriers and doing things you never though possible?

Mr. Big sends his love everytime he can... and everytime he makes me smile and pout a little because I'm not with him snuggled in by his side eating pineapple pizza and watching movies like I should.

Is that success? having someone missing you as much as you miss them?

My sister's getting married and she's been marriage-thoning every Saturday on the last 6 months finding a church, a place for the party, a car, an apartment, furniture... and I've been watching everything from a safe distance, offering help when and where I may be able to.

I remember she mentioned a while ago that I would be fun if I drove the car that was going to take her to the church, so... nice, my part on that wedding was going to be "Driver of the Bride". Sweet!

A couple of weeks ago, the bride and the groom gave me a little box with a wedding invitation with my name and the words "Maid of Honor".

WHAT THE WHAT?!?!?!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I'll be my sister's Maid of Honor which means... like in all Hispanic cultures, that I'll be their marriage godmother... oh my God... what were they thinking?? 

Yes, that is success. Thinking, for the last 3 years, how big a failure you are as a role model to one of the most important people in your life and finding out YOU WERE NEVER A FAILURE.

Yes, 2014 has been a great year.

Being innocent

Today I went out on my last Sunday bike ride of the year.

Today is the "Day of the holy innocents", it's how catholics call the day when Herod killed all the newborn babies while trying to kill baby Jesus.

Today was like a scene from a Disney movie, the weather was perfect, sunny and warm.

I kept seeing little children taking their Christmas bikes and skates for a ride, actually learning how to ride without training wheels.

I saw a little girl, wearing baby blue skates, with her baby blue helmet, baby blue knee and elbow pads... falling fat on her face, crying because she got her gear all dirty and scratched.

There was this other little guy who ran in front of me and I almost ran him over. All I could do was hit the breaks and scream "Dooooooooooooooooooooon't ever do that again dude!!!!". I think he was more freaked out because of the sound and high pitch of my terrified voice than the fact that I could've hurt him.

Of course, someone was funny enough to give his grandma a full-geared bike and found out she was in way bettet shape than any of the million and a half people out on their bikes today and was now running after her.

Three little girls were out with their parents, all of them on their brand new Barbie bikes, all of them without their training wheels, each one of them going in opposite directions and their parents freaking out, screaming, and most probably regretting having those little side wheels taken off.

It was like a Disney movie, everyone was happy, everyone was friendly. Even the mom of the kid I almost killed.

But, like every little happy story, it must come to an end.

As I got home, I found my Twitter feed filled with pictures of a guy I remember having met a while ago. I checked Facebook and it was just the same... he was dead.

He was friends with most of my bike friends and friends with many of my former students from 10 years ago. Oh... no.

Cesar was dead, a group of teenagers thought his bike had more value than his life and shot him while he was up-hill training in a small town 3 hours from Bogotá... as his mom and dad were pacing him, guarding him, so other cars wouldn't run him over. They saw him died. Is there a worst memory for a parent?

Regular people barely knew his name, but among the bike people, he was one of the most important people in the city. Not only he was a bicycle activist but he was actually doing real work in the real world -- in the real city, to make it a better place for bikes. He co-wrote the book on bikes I now treasure on my desk.

Today, we're all Cesar, we won't stop riding, we're not afraid.

I join Carlos Pardo when he says: "I know Saint Peter is a cyclist, and he'll send you to the deepest of Hells, to a frozen lake where you deserve to be with Cain, Anthenor, Ptolomeo and Judas, and every single bike robber who's had the stupid and God-forbbiden idea of killing a person.".

You deserve nothing... assholes.

And now, a sad story

I've been having some weird dreams lately.

I've seen this kid I used to hung out with, sick. Hospital bed SICK, So sick his grandma called me and asked me to visit him. I woke up before I even got a chance to know what was going on.

I've seen myself robbing a house (wait---- WHAT?)

I've seen children crying by a lake.

I've seen a weird birthday celebration that became a ninja fight that took me to a farmer's market (what the deuce?!?!) just like the ones with the giant chicken from Family Guy.

Well...

None of those dreams warned me about tonight's call.

Tito, my lended dad from DC, is suffering from something the doctors aren't sure exactly what it is he's all the symptoms of a stroke without the chemical damage in his brain. He's dizzy, he's memory is failing and he's sleepy most of the time.
When we called him, he recognized our voices immediately, he's aware of everything that is going on.

My ignorant non-medical brain thinks that's a good thing, I guess.
He knows about his therapies and the medicines he needs, but at the same time he's aware of what Tita's going through, his son and daugthers... and my little monsters.

Today was the first day I wished with all my heart to be somewhere else but home.

I wanted to be at my other home.

I wanted to help, or just to keep them company, to be there the same way they kept me company, spoiled me when I needed to smile, gave me shelter when my life was falling apart and kept my secrets when I knew I would be judged anywhere else.

I need a... something to take me there.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

A smashing reality

I cracked my head open a couple of months ago. Three stitches on my forehead, bruises and a sore body.
Today, all that's left is a Harry Potter scar I've learned to ignore and disguise with make-up. The doctor said it'll go away with time.

Time heals all wounds.

It better be true.

Today, I ran into this annoying dude who thinks TOO much of himself.
He used to wear tight skinny jeans... burgundy and mustard color skinny jeans. Ugh!!
We I used to make fun of him and his accent. And his teeth... pfff!! disgusting. How can anyone like something like that!?!?!

Today I ran into him. He was wearing skinny jeans.

Dark blue skinny jeans.

... and a super tiny tight Batman t-shirt.

I wanted to take a picture and send it to someone to share the laughs, but then again... dead people don't talk.

And once again, I smashed my face against reality.

I wonder how many stitches will my brain and my heart need to get used to a reality that's getting too hard to get used to.

One word

The end of a lazy Labor day... a lazy meme...

Answer the following questions with ONE WORD only:

Where is your cell phone? BEDSIDE
Your partner? MYSELF
Your hair? BROWN
Your mother? STRENGTH
Your father? SUPPORT
Your favorite material object? MACARITO
Your dream from last night? TWISTED
Your favorite drink? JUICE
Your dream car? PRIUS
The room in which you are right now? MINE
Your ex? 
Your fear? DISAPPOINTMENT
What do you want to be in 10 years? HOME
With who did you spend last night? RANDY
What are you not? MANIPULABLE
What did you do last night? FIREWORKS
What's the last thing you did before this? CVS
What are you wearing? YELLOW
Your favorite book? CONSPIRACIES
The last thing you ate? HUMMUS
Your mood? WEIRD
Your friends? FULFILLING
What are you thinking about right now? DEFENSE
What are you doing right now? CANDLELIGHT
Your summer? STRESSFUL
What's on your tv? DVD
The last time you laughed? FIREWORKS
The last time you cried? SHOWER
School? ENOUGH
What are you listening to? BEATLES
Your favorite weekend activity? SLEEPING
Dream job? DOT
Your computer? MACARITO
Just outside your window? PINE-TREE
Beer? NO
Mexican Food? PLEASE!
Winter? NOSTALGIA
Religion? INTIMATE
Vacation? NECESSARY
On your bed? PILLOWS
Love? NONBELIEVER

Smokin' destiny

Today I drove pass by the place I used to live a couple of years ago, it was in flames.
It felt... weird.
I should've seen it coming.
It should've happen a couple of months ago as a warning sign.

A broken girl from another planet

I call one of my closest friends: "Martian sister", and she calls me "Baby martian". She's 2 years older than I am hence, the baby part.

We went to college together; then she and her husband moved to Cincinnati, then I joined them and we became a family.
They were like my older brother and sister. Now they're back in Colombia and I'm not.

I miss them.

For my birthday she TXT'd me, send me pics of her kitties. Later that day we talked and...

Are you sitting down baby Martian? I have something to tell you.
Don't scare me. Are you ok?
I have a new marital status.
What are you talking about?
Divorced.
What the fuck?!?!?!?!
Yeah, I know.
Are you ok?
As ok as I can be... not like you, I'm sure.
Meaning?
You're still feeling, aching, hurting... in love maybe?
I don't know gurl. An information overflow rebooted the system.
See? you're still recovering from last year. Me? I don't know.

And we are different because...

I'm broken.

Broken?
I don't feel anything. I'm broken. I'm not in love anymore, or sad, or... or anything. I'm sleeping better because I think I'm ok with all this being over. I don't feel anything so I believe I'm broken.
You're not broken. Every relationship is different. It's chemistry. That's all.
But you know what I really miss?
Shoot.
He was my best friend. He's the one I told all my secrets and fears, and stupid stories. We have so many inside jokes it's horribly annoying! I trusted him with my life and my mind on a heartbeat. He was a pushing and pulling force me when needed, but most of the time he was just by my side. He was the best adviser. I miss talking with him... Oh man!! I miss THAT, I miss our talks!! I miss my best friend.
We're not different then.

Facts of life... so far.

I've been "under the knife" ONE time.
I have TWO gorgeous, super smart and funny sisters whom I admire and adore.
Last month, when I smashed my face, I got THREE stitches on my eyebrow.
Officially, I've lived in FOUR different US states.
I have FIVE blogs, but only write on 2 of them.
I've live in SIX different houses/apartments in Cincinnati.
My nuclear family has SEVEN people (6 + Mafe)
I have EIGHT nieces and nephews. None of them are my sisters' children. Just friends'.
It's been NINE months since I last spoke to a former friend I'm willing to move a "mountain" for  :'(
My car's mechanic gave me TEN cookies as a reward for "Ingenuity under flat tire distress".
My parent's live in a loft-like apartment on the ELEVEN-th floor.
I made frozen yogurt popsicles once and ate TWELVE on a weekend. Didn't share. No regrets.
I left Mr. Big at the airport THIRTEEN days ago. I cried. I always cry when we say good-bye.
Last year I went to Colombia for FOURTEEN days. Work related.
I've had FIFTEEN roommates so far. Not because of annoyance, people move on.
SIXTEEN must be number of times I've cut my hair (wtf?!?) fixing the band-aid on my scar.
I blocked or unfriended SEVENTEEN people on Facebook before closing my profile.
Recently I got a bag of EIGHTEEN Chocorramitos from a friend's mom [20 - 2 eaten by my friend].
I went to a Spa NINETEEN months ago to clear my head but it didn't do anything.
I've lost TWENTY kilos (44 lbs) in the last nineteen months.
I have TWENTY-ONE boards on Pinterest and I feel super girly about them.
I've listened to TWENTY-TWO audio-books in the last 18 months... ok... TWENTY-THREE.
I've been re-projecting GIS layers for my thesis for TWENTY-FOUR f**ing days.
I was TWENTY-FIVE when my grandma died. I didn't cry.
TWENTY-SIX... 's just a number.
One hour and TWENTY-SEVEN minutes has been my longest phone call this past week.
Today, I have two-hundred and TWENTY-EIGHT followers on Twitter.
I was TWENTY-NINE the first time I went to Chicago.
I've known my BFF for THIRTY years.
I have THIRTY-ONE videos on my Hulu queue: J.Stewart, S.Colbert, DDD and The Awesomes'.
It's been about THIRTY-TWO days since I touched my knitting needles and hooks.
I've known my longest childhood friend for THIRTY-THREE years. Met as toddlers? yes!!
For my THIRTY-FOUR-th birthday bash I got a Latin band and an entire bar for one night.
Turning THIRTY-FIVE today doesn't feel bad at all.

My dad, my peace (i)

"Each one of us is a work in progress. We're always building ourselves.
When something unexpected comes and makes you tremble, don't worry, don't be scared.
Don't be scared, there's always a missing piece in our story. That's why we tremble. 
Just focus on what you're building and everything will be all right."

- My dad, the engineer, 5 minutes ago -

Growing up

Growing up, deciding what the course of your life will be.
Growing up, being scared of what's to come.
Growing up, saying good-bye to teddy bears.
Growing up, making fun of your own stupidity.
Growing up, pitying those who enjoy your suffering.
Growing up, understanding you're stronger than you ever thought you were.
Growing up, calling yourself "better" than those who are truly NOT better than you.
Growing up, finding a place to call your own.
Growing up, learning the true meaning of the words FAMILY, FRIENDS, WORK and LOVE.
Growing up, letting go.
Growing up, not looking back.
Growing up, learning to flirt without being a bitch.
Growing up, being a bitch without regrets.

Growing up, becoming a witch.

Growing up, staring at your naked body in the mirror and smiling.
Growing up, wearing tiny thongs under shorty-short-shorts.
Growing up, sleeping in your undies on a hot summer night.

Growing up, walking calmly in the rain without an umbrella.

Growing up, talking about politics, sports, women and sex with friends that happen to be men.

Growing up, thinking about starting a family someday.

Growing up, changing a Friday night out partying for a Skype chat with your geekiest friends.
Growing up, learning how much Vodka your body can handle.
Growing up, going beyond your Vodka limit on purpose.

Growing up, knowing you don't need anyone to make you happy.
Growing up, wanting to have someone by your side to share your adventures.
Growing up, enjoying a glass of Whiskey with a poet.
Growing up, going to the movies by yourself.
Growing up, partnering up with a friend for a whore-house-with-free-wifi business plan.
Growing up, painting your nails and toenails with colors that match your mood and not your clothes.
Growing up, being brave and saying "I miss you. I love you. Come back to me" knowing your chances are slight to none.
Growing up, uncovering the scars in your soul.
Growing up, putting your favorite wines and fine cheeses in your grocery list.
Growing up, keeping wine and beer at home, just because you like them.
Growing up, wishing there's someone, somewhere peeking into your life.
Growing up, being able to say what's inside your heart without regrets.
Growing up, discovering you became someone's nemesis and cracking up.
Growing up, enjoying your wet dreams.

Growing up, growing out of your own skin.

Talking to myself

My friend Shelley is my best friend here.
She's the first one I told I was coming back to Cincy with a broken heart a year and a half ago.
She's the one that picked me up at the airport the moment I landed with two pieces of luggage, a camping backpack a carry-on, a purse and eyes full of tears.
She's the one that kept my head afloat and took me to a psychologist to help heal my wounds, sat me down and helped me bring my feet back on the ground.
She hugged me and kept me company.
She helped me find a roommate and a place to live.
She listened every time I wanted to talk about the exact same thing: Him.
She said things I needed to say and what I didn't want to hear.

I owe most of my happiness to Shelley.

Shelley's husband moved out of their house last week.
They are getting a divorce.
Shelley's heart is devastated.

Now is my turn to keep Shelley company; to help her pick up the pieces of a shattered heart and help her to put them together and learn to be happy again.
It's my turn to show her the city under different lighting: "single girl lights".
No, we're not going crazy... too crazy... yet.

Talking and listening to Shelley is like talking and listening to myself.
Who said that? Was it Shelley? Was it me?
Did Shelley or Mafe said that a year and a half ago? or was it a month ago?... last week... yesterday?

I miss him... It's hard to live without him but I must learn.
I hate him for not fighting for something so fulfilling and happy and... [sad puppy face].
I feel like a huge piano has been lifted from my back.
Since then, all my sleepless nights went away.
I'm too much for him to handle.
I helped him get to where he is... and this is the thanks I get?!?
He's dead to me. 
No, I don't miss him in bed... I miss talking to him. 
I'm the mean one, I lead him away from me, if he doesn't want me back it'll make sense.
It was my fault.
He's my best friend. I miss my best friend.
No, I'm not happy... but I think I found peace.
Sometimes I just want to call him and say "Are you watching Colbert tonight?!?! my stomach hurts from laughing so hard!!!".
This is the end. I have to face it, we're not meant to be together.
I can't do it! I need him!
I've moved on.
That son of a b*&*^&... I hate him!!
I love him.