Category Archives: Trash

Black Friday

I always make jokes about having a boyfriend from the States so I could join the traditional celebration of Thanksgiving, even though I don’t eat turkey. Yep, everybody remarks the fact that I’m vegetarian as if the American veggies wouldn’t not fit to traditions because of their choice. Anyway, it’s been another year and I haven’t yet found my man from Wichita. Ha! 😀

Today it’s Friday. As good or bad as any Friday. But in America it’s Black Friday. The starting pistol to Xmas season shopping, marked by a fixed festivity on the fourth week on November. Apparently the term was born in Philly due to a massive traffic mess occurred one Friday, but actually this black means the point in the year when business start getting profit in sales.

Nowadays this day, extended till the end of the week, is marked by massive discounts “intended” to help family economies to face Xmas shopping, although at the end of the day, anyone with a bit of common sense knows that’s a lie, because discount makes people to consume more. And you are aware of it.

black friday

I’m not here to judge this tradition in the States, it’s not my war. For some time I used to think it was right to have sales before Xmas, rather than after, but things changed in my mind when I realized how stupid can be sometimes to spend so much money in Xmas presents. And Black Friday has finally reached Spain just like anything else, and it’s kind of ridiculous.

I buy. I have no problem in admitting it. I BUY A LOT OF SHIT. But I hate to be imposed when  and how to buy, because that means everything is accurately calculated to suck us dry. Plus I hate going shopping to suffer due to so many queues and so many people around it’s impossible to get focused on what you want. Definitely, I am not cattle.

Now, in order to attact those who hate going shopping, an eDay has been created to get discounts on the net. The tentacles of big companies go beyond anything and they’ll get lots of money for sure.

I got paid today. I thought of buying a couple of albums of a band I’m starting to like a lot at a very reasonable price, out of this Black Friday thing. But, I feel bad following the masses and decided I’d get them tomorrow. I’m not supporting any cause but just standing up for my principles, and at least I feel good about it.

You know what I bought today? Beer. And there was no discount  for that. WTF?

And today, there’s a song that’s been repeating in my head, and now I fully understand its message.

Merchandise keeps us in line
Common sense says it’s by design
What could a businessman ever want more
than to have us sucking in his store
We owe you nothing
You have no control
You are not what you own

I’d like to know the opinion of those who criticize Halloween so much about this.

I’m not a mum, so deal with it.

As you know I’m single and don’t have any kids of my own. At this point in my life I’m 80% sure I will never be a mum. I don’t feel frustrated about that, because considering my terrible love life, I’ve never had the urge to have a baby. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but never been obsessed about looking for life fulfillment through raising one. Never felt this biological call I think. Probably if the chain of events would have been different, I’d be a proud mum nowadays. Who knows… Truth is this has never bothered me at all. I’ve been able to carry out lots of things that, with such huge responsibility, I would have never had the chance, so I don’t regret my current situation at all.

However I’m at this age that many people are new parents. Decades ago, it was at your 20s when you were having babies, and reaching 30 you were considered some sort of outcast or freak if you weren’t living in a couple raising kids. Society has changed, comfort and leisure have won consideration, with people feeling like enjoying travelling, going out or living free without additional burdens, and on the other hand the current expensive way of life, have delayed parenthood to the 30s, the decade I’m about to finish.

Thus let’s say until 2-4 years, I was working with single people, or at least with no kids. Barcelona is said to decrease the birth rate, however I see lots of couples assuming the step in their commitment adding new members to their new and small family. Many of them because they are well settled at work, feeling comfortable enough to assume this new episode. It’s quite reasonable and I feel very proud of my friends in that situation, moreover, I love my friends’ kids.

marge and maggie

I work at an office where most of my colleagues have kids. Well, together with another girl I’m the exception. That wouldn’t be anything extraordinary if I wasn’t starting feeling marginalized.

Long time ago I wrote a piece for Norma Jean Magazine talking about the silent privileges of the parents at work, which made some noise among readers, causing extreme reactions. I was supported by many people and criticized and even insulted by others. The reason was that I affirmed that due to their obligations with kids, parents had some sort of advantage and an off the record law protecting their interest over single or non parent coworkers, especially related to holiday periods, illnesses and leaves. Of course you cannot speak in general, and that wasn’t my target (I didn’t want to offend anyone) at all, but everybody can read what anyone writes from a different point of view, but I hate those people abusing of their status for their benefit.

Leaving all the holidays subject, because at the end of the day I prefer taking days off for attending festivals,  or whatever I want, out of the typical hot season, for the first time in my life, like I’ve advanced, I feel marginalized.

Does parenthood provide you of the ultimate truth and wisdom? Should I be interested in the different textures of poo? Is my life more frivolous because I don’t sacrifice it on behalf of a kid? Let me answer for you: NO, NO and NO.

Everything is based on choices. I chose not to have children because I reckon it’s more serious than we think. I’ve seen women getting pregnant to chase a guy, and live in permanent frustration, with constant problems and difficulties because that love story was a failure, and at the end of the day a kid wasn’t a fixed and unbreakable contract which granted happiness in couple. I don’t want that in my life, and I don’t want to be a bad mother, projecting my shit on my son. My work pals decided the other way. Some were lucky because their relationships are serious, well based on, deep and constant. Some weren’t because everything was just an illusion in the heat of the moment. Everybody has to carry their emotional bags the way they can, but since I don’t judge, I don’t wanna be judged or just categorized as insensitive or selfish.

Sometimes these mums at work make me feel as if I don’t give a shit about kids sick, or learning to walk and talk. As if they thought I don’t belong because I don’t have anything in common with them, or at least as important. I cannot talk about poo, vaccines, kindergarten teachers or meals from my personal experience, obviously, but I listen and learn from what others share with me, so I can give my input, but that is not valid for them because “you don’t really know what this is like”. On the other hand, since their kids have become the center of their lives, the rest doesn’t matter, so at the end of the day they’re basically talking about the same. I’m sorry but it’s boring. If being a mother means I have to give up everything I love, passions and hobbies, and just being focused on a human being, I’m afraid that’s not my war.

I know close friends who are mothers and they are able to converge motherhood, friendship, couple, their personal life, and work, and many other things, and they’re good at everything. They can care for friends and even though there’s a lot of sacrifice and hard work, they don’t feel overwhelmed by their new situation and keep up with their previous life. I feel part of their experience, I fit in without feeling like forcing them to take me in their lives, and they respect and care about me and my stuff.

kid at festival

What the difference between case A and case B mothers? I might sound very harsh right now, but I honestly think the first ones never had a plenty life and raising a kid is some sort of relief for their frustration, with lots of dependence involved, and probably the result will be a disaster when those children grow up, become individuals in possession of their own will, and start feeling detached from their protective wings, because they won’t know what to do with their empty lives.

So dear supermoms at my office, I’m glad you’re leaving me aside because now I know I don’t want, nor won’t be like you, and it’s a huge relief.

My first Roller Coaster

September 2014 is being weird. Trying to get back to my routines, fortunately gigs are back and at this point heat is weakening and days are getting shorter. However my office is a mess, and we haven’t yet overcome the fucking summer peak season, so I’m doing lots of overtime and I’m working frenetically, so I feel tired and frustrated quite often lately, and it’s hard to keep this thing updated, which annoys me even more. Really, can’t wait to see the day everything goes back to normality, at least temporarily.

Few weeks ago I said I felt like going to an amusement park to spend any random day. I was thinking of the typical shabby local park in my hometown, or perhaps Tibidabo in Barcelona. You know, beers, carousels, boats, candy floss, the labyrinth and the fun house… as if I was 10 years old again. In my mind it was a very simple plan. I only needed the right company.

Partners in crime

Partners in crime

There are some times I think people don’t pay me attention, but when my friend Jack reminded me of this wish I expressed out loud, I realized how wrong I was. He told me he wanted to visit this huge amusement theme park in Salou, Port Aventura, the most popular in Spain after almost 20 years since its opening, and one of the most established in Europe. I was so surprised I confessed him that I had never had a ride on a rollercoaster, and that I felt like trying at least once in my life, but of course I was thinking of some humble and harmless ride. It didn’t him much to convince me to go to this hue park with him, and he even set the day, September 24th, as our target. Being local holiday in Barcelona on the second half of September would grant less visitors and nice and warm weather. Everything sounded perfect, so we went ahead.

The last week before the event was a bit distressing due to tons of work and a very changeable weather, which might ruin our plan. We couldn’t decide whether going or not until 12 hours before catching the train. Everything done at the very last minute.

We got really lucky. It was a magnificent day in all senses, too damn perfect.

It’s hard to choose the first attraction to start with, especially when I was a virgin on the subject. Many people was stuck in the first tough one, and there was a 90min queue, so we decided to move forward, and start in the typical water ride which gets you  completely soaked (thank Universe for not wearing a white tee!), especially when you are sit in the first row. It was sunny and warm so to be honest, the shower was even a reward., but my hair was a mess for the rest of the day (I couldn’t care less).

shambala2

We decided to go towards Shambala, aka the expedition to the Himalayas, and wait for half an hour. In brief, this is Europe’s highest (78m) and fastest (134 km/h) hyper coaster, and that was to be my christening in roller coaster. Cool, huh? Not for me, really. I was observing the fall and it seemed that the angle was so vertical (actually 86º) I started to shit on my pants and get nervous, so I had a beer. Jack adores roller coasters, but he hadn’t tried this one either and seemed to be excited yet relaxed. So the ride started and the wagon went upwards. It seemed like an eternity, and I took a watch around and saw how beautiful Tarragona port was, but at the same time I was very concerned about the height, till we reached the top, and all of a sudden

Zzzzzzzzzzzzuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmm!

Holy shit!!! that fall was endless (apparently it has also the longest drop in Europe) and I had this funny feeling in my lungs, and then it went up, and down, up and down, quite violently and I couldn’t do anything but cursing yelling. My feeling was that the action was quite long (3 minutes ride), I never felt I was going to die or end up smashed against the floor. The fear was what if I couldn’t handle that overwhelming body feeling. When we to left the wagon I was shaking, my legs were weak and I was laughing and crying hysterically. I know my friend didn’t expect such reaction and got frightened not knowing if I was ok. My inner self was questioning if I could spend the whole day having these feelings, and then I went for another beer, to calm down. It worked. As usual.

dragon khan

I’m not gonna recall all the roller coasters I rode, but believe me I had a great time and even though I was yelling all the time. I had a crush on Dragon Khan’s loops, rolls and its 8 inversions. In fact it was so dynamic I flipped. It was fuckin’ awesome. And Furious Baco, an intamine accelerator coaster, was absolutely insane. That feeling of being propelled from 0 to 135km/h in just 3.5 seconds was one of the most exciting ones ever.

furious baco

Thus it took me almost 38 years to realize that I like roller coasters. Never too late they say. It’s similar to my taste for horror movies. I got scared, I shit on my pants easily, but when the tension ends the relief invading my body is one of the greatest pleasures I can enjoy, and the final conclusion is that I’ve had a great time. The difference is that with roller coasters I can’t stop yelling and laughing with every ride.

It was one of the most perfect days of 2014, with the best company.

There’ll be a next time, I swear.

Here today…

Today I’ve received another reminder on how short life is in the shape of bad news related to a close friend’s health. These reminders come unexpectedly and usually in an awkward moment, and usually leave you in a state of shock.

Yep. Definitely ‘shock’ is the word to define how I’m feeling right now. After receiving the news and swearing a couple of times, I haven’t been managed to express nor develop the mix of feelings and impressions struggling inside my head. I’ve been about to cry, or experience a violent physical outburst, but I haven’t reacted yet to an uncertain future caused by a radical change of scenario.

I’ve been on the phone with different people. Some very close, others just acquainted. Basically I’ve spent my evening on the phone, and up to this moment when I’ve decided to try doing something more productive or at least more relieving I haven’t been able to focus on any task as simple as playing an album. My head is a rollercoaster.

The expression here today, gone tomorrow is one of these universal facts that hurt for being so brutally straight and honest. I’d like to change it for here today, fucked up tomorrow, because at least it’d mean you still wake up every morning. In any case, this bitchy reminder confirms what should be my/our life philosophy: enjoy while you can and don’t get stuck in shit.

tomorrow may be too late

I know I’ll learn something from this, but it’s sad sometimes certain sad events work as a starting engine to see life from a different perspective and strengthen and improve yourself against adversity.

Remembering My So-Called Life

On August 25th 20 years ago My So-Called Life pilot episode was aired for the first time in the US. I never knew the impact of the series in its country as it was broadcast here 2 years later by Canal +, the first private pay TV channel  in Spain, in free-air hours. The reception was quite poor because it was August, and being scheduled at 8pm wasn’t very appropriate either to catch the teenagers attention. Too many distractions and activities  better than spending the evening in front of a T. For no reason I was THAT freak. I was home alone for the month so I could watch TV, listen to music or do whatever anytime I wanted. Same as nowadays except for working.

my so called life

Up to that moment I had never been very interested in teenage “drama” series. If I had to enjoy an empty-headed series I’d choose Melrose Place over Beverly Hills 90210, with more adult characters, but If I had to get deep in shit, I’d choose classic Dynasty and Falcon Crest over any. Getting back to these teenage oriented series, none of them could catch my attention. However the impact of Angela Chase’s view of life was huge.

The story was happening in my time, we were in the same range of age, and being Claire Danes super gorgeous, we share that slob dressing style, with plaid shirts, XL tees… There were some moments I wanted to be her, and express myself as clear as she did in her thoughts or to her friends. I had never felt so close to some fictional character, with so much reality and deep thinking.

Hatred can become like food, it gives you this energy that you can like, live off of.

The coolest thing was that teenage drama was dealt in a teenage way. I mean, when you are 16 and your one-month boyfriend dumps you for another girl you reckon is hotter but never as cut as you, the world falls apart, and you feel like that’s the worst thing that can ever happen to you. When you are to date that guy you like so much and a damn huge spot sprouts in your chin and you even consider calling off the meeting.  Or when there’s no communication between you and your parents and they just don’t understand you. All things considered, becoming an adult is not as easy and irrelevant as many people reckon. It’s pretty fucked up actually, so in My So-Called Life you could see yourself reflected as in a mirror. And it worked as  some sort of painkiller, showing you weren’t the only one having complexes and insecurities and  low self-esteem.

jordan and angela

And then there was Jordan Catalano. Thinking of Jared Leto nowadays makes really hard to believe I had a crush on him, but yeah, I had it, because this handsome but not very smart guy was a symbol. Thus I sighed for Catalano, my ex was in love with Angela and secretly wanted me to be her, and I also wanted to be Angela because she was cool.

Unfortunately the series was suddenly cancelled, and apparently it had to do with the decision of Claire Danes to quit, leaving lots of open plots. Would the relationship between Jordan and Angela have worked? I don’t think so. At the end of the day he was a prick and she seemed to be more into experiencing and discovering.

Truth is that My So-Called Life marked a starting point for teenage drama series, with Dawson’s Creek as one of the most remarkable examples, but I was never into any similar story anymore. Perhaps I had already grown up, or just because the first time is the experience which will prevail in memory throughout the years. I don’t know.

rayanne and angela

Right now I’m speaking out of my memory, but I really want to recover the story of Angela, Jordan and Rayanne, and see how it feels being now an adult. I might learn something I didn’t notice back in the day. Who knows?

Hamilton Ventura

Hamilton Ventura, what a sexy name! It could work for an adventurer, a super hero or an actor. One of those names that, I don’t know, they just imply something classy, far from the standard.

hamilton ventura

Ventura is actually a wristwatch, and it was one of the first electric models in the world designed by the American industrial designer Richard Arbib in 1957 for the Hamilton Watch Company. Not only It was quite revolutionary for the mechanism but also for its non-traditional assimetrical design.

The first celebrity wearing one of these Ventura models was Elvis Presley, known for being a passionate for wristwatches, including Longines, Omega and Rolex. You can see his Blue Hawaii film poster with him wearing this watch. After him, the creator of one of  the most amazing tv series ever, The Twilight Zone, Rod Serling, was introducing the audience to the 5th dimension every week with his Hamilton Ventura. Stray Cats leader, Brian Setzer had one too, and it was part of the outfit of the Men in Black, Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones.

hve

You realize when a design of an object is a work of art when it’s not affected by the passing of time, this is, it never gets old nor outdated. This is the case of Hamilton Ventura. It’s elegant, classy and timeless. In fact, the company has been releasing updated editions of the watch, but also recovering the classic models in limited adition, for the 50th anniversary of the first electric watch, and the 75th birthday anniversary of Elvis in 2009.

Most of my life I’ve been using wristwatches, since I was 6 and wanted to assimilate the concept of passing time. it’s been few years, since I got my right forearm tattooed with the lighthouse since I don’t wear watch, but I’ve been thinking of recovering that habit because as soon as the battery of the phone runs out, I’m totally confused not knowing what the time is.

So, if you have approx. spare USD 700-1000, and feel like making me a present, one of these wonderful toys would be terrific. 🙂

Summer, FEET and Phobia.

Phobia [ˈfəʊbɪə]

noun

noun: phobia; plural noun: phobias

an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something.

“she suffered from a phobia about birds”

synonyms: abnormal fear, irrational fear, obsessive fear, fear, dread, horror, terror,dislike, hatred, loathing, detestation, distaste, aversion, antipathy, revulsion, repulsion;

Summertime. Apparently the best season in the year, or at least we’ve been brought up and educated in this belief, as it’s associated to good weather, holidays and fun. This should be my summer 25 years ago, but not anymore.

summer

In my case it is mainly marked by the peak season in my job, with work overload, the absence of holidays on behalf of colleagues who have couples and families and want or have to go on vacation in July or August. I’m usually broke thanks to IRS (basterds!), mosquitoes bite the hell out of me, humidity and hot weather in Barcelona is a shit and my forelock disappears forcedly, but trying to look at the right side of life, I’m still glad I have air conditioning at work. It is a relief, for real. There’s nobody here in August because everybody is on holidays, and there are not shows to attend either. I don’t get bored though, don’t think Barcelona is kind of jail in August, but let’s say that my country stops routine for 4-6 weeks, and no matter how I keep acting normal, somehow also affects me.

Honestly I’m positive when I admit it’s not my favorite season anymore, yet I can cope with that quite decently even though I’m complaining in excess to make this more dramatic. It is not the above mentioned situation what really makes me feel pissed off with this season. There’s one thing that actually makes me hate summer and the world more than any other:

FEET

Almost bare feet everywhere. Flip-flops and  sandals are not so weird in Barcelona due to the weather, in fact, I’d say many people try to wear half the year if possible, something I find totally exaggerated to be honest.

bare feet

People footwear shouldn’t be of my concern and I shouldn’t give a shit about this, but believe me, a tube trip of 6 stops is enough to make me feel like vomiting sometimes after being mistreated by the sight of terrible deformed bared aliens threatening me in my peaceful way to somewhere. Arggggh!

Has it ever occurred to you that you discover something abhorrent but you cannot keep the eye out of it so your stomach starts aching, your repulsion is even reflected in your face and you’d just love to go towards the human being and tell them how disgusting motherfucker he or she is? Well, similar situations I’m experiencing most of the times I catch a train, as I’m surrounded by many ugly feet with deformed toes, rotten nails, and disgusting corns. We can leave aside the subject of smelly feet, so classic in summer too, huh?

And I always wonder the same. How the fuck do you dare going out with such monstrosity at public glance? Ain’t you ashamed? How can you be so calm while you’re torturing my poor eyes? Sometimes I dream awake of being myself some sort of Feet Enforcer…

Check the beginning on this post with the definition of Phobia and think of the story I’m telling you and you will find the perfect example of extreme aversion. Yeah, that is me!

I don’t regard my feet as horrible, but I’ve always find the strange lack of proportion between my quite big piggy toe and the rest of small and rigid ones quite weird, and since I started wearing sneakers and Doc Martens at 14-15 I started not feeling very comfy showing them. Also I used to hate my mum cutting my nails when I was a kid and got very very anxious and tense when someone touched my toes. Have you watched Kill Bill? Do you remember when Beatrix Kiddo wakes up from years in coma and has to work on recovering the mobility of her legs, feet and toes for hours? I suffer with that scene.

kiddo feet

My obsession has been gradually increasing, especially in the years I had a boyfriend with the hugest feet I’ve ever seen (QUITE smelly and excessively delicate too, he was complaining aaaaaall the fuckin’ time). Moreover, I guess he projected his feet obsessions, pains and concerns (and phobia) on me, so I developed this extreme dislike. He was also quite a world hater, lucky I’ve been into people too much as to fall under his anti-social influence.

Thus nowadays I can only stand baby feet, really decent feet,or close and old friends’, mainly female, of course. Even my male best friend share some of this feet shyness and I never seen his feet at full either. Those apparent enjoyable pleasures such as pedicure or a foot massage (Mia Wallace, how can you stand it without breaking anyone’s jaw with a kick?) are completely out of question.

Should I go to a shrink to overcome this phobia? Maybe, but as far as I’m concerned I’m not willing to invest the few dough I have in being gentle to disgusting feet of unknown people. I feel lucky for having a phobia which doesn’t affect much to my daily living, but being this a stupid example, try to think of something more serious. Frightening, huh?