Our First Trip Together... of the Season

Kari and I have traveled together before, and not only within Costa Rica (never really within Hungary), but to actual "foreing places", which are, of course, actually "foreing" for me. Such have been our trip to Cracow, Poland, and our trip to Vienna, which is my "must" trip. These two trips happened this year in Spring, but for this trip home of mine, the destinations selected were Vienna (as always) and Sofia, as many of you must already be tired to death of hearing it. 

The first trip was to Sofia, and this is were we are now. We arrived yesterday after some funky flying from Budapest up North to Praga and then down South to Sofia. No, don't ask me, it was my boyfriend who arranged the trip. Really. I would have gone for the shorter version, specially one that excludes the trip with a Fokker. No, you ain't no idea what it was like. My hand luggage couldn't be taken to the cabine because it was too big, and the hatches of the overhead compartments were clearly made of wood or plywood! It wasn't as bad as those tiny planes called "avioneta" in Spanish, but I've seen better. Oh, BTW, if you ever have to travel on a Fokker, don't waste your money on a Business Class ticket because the seats are just the same.

Sofia is an interesting city that really reeks of poverty. Houses are in quite a bad shape and none curb appeal, unless you are into the "banlieu" groove, and wanna feel a bit ghetto-like. In the middle of amazing natural landscapes stretches a town full of rundown buildings and rundown people. Not many beautiful girls and no handsome men. Their knowledge of English is so extremely limited I had to make use of the little scraps of Russian I still remember to ask for things. However people are usually nice. Those who happen to know some English actually jump to the chance to use it and help you. I can but be marvelled by them. It is a really intriging place to be and to know. There's no trace of the usually overly done, exceedingly artificial ornating and presenting that's so usual in Russians, which always give you the feeling that they would really want to make you think they are French, when they are clearly not, and only end up looking like tacky clowns. Bulgarians are simple in every way. Simple dressing, simple coiffing and basically no make up. Today I saw make up on a lady that, from the looks I presume it's Russian or a prostitute, and that was it. Then, today I saw also a lady, perhaps in her fifties, sixties with a mustache. So it is true, they do exist.

After breakfast, we went to explore the city a bit. At diner yesterday, with our "trusty" lonely planet Bulgaria book, we picked up some of the places we wanted to visit and divided them by location on those alotted for Today and those left for tomorrow. Now, if you ever consider in buying one of these lonely planet books, you must know this: they are not accurate. (Thanks Hyne mine was a gift from my favorite bookstore!) Sure there are a lot of things that can help you, but these are a few I found while in here:

1. Fares in the book don't match real life. Then again, okay, that might be due to the fact that these books were published some years ago, so okay, they can stand corrected, but for instance the taxi fare from the airport to our hotel was 13 lv (lev), and not the "less than 8 lv" the book said. The entrance to the Archeological Museum was 10 lv and not the 5 lv mentioned by the book, and the tramway ticket was 1 lv and not 0,50 lv according to the book.

2. It's a poor restaurant guide. If you want to find a place to eat traditional Bulgarian food you'll have to learn Bulgarian and hit the road, because the number of places listed in the book are few. Then, outside the little square of "down-down-downtown" you won't find a place to eat, according to the map. Anywhere. They are out there, but "the book" will prevent you to see them. So, if you are outside "the box", like us, you will be forced to take a cab or a tramway or a bus and enter "the box" to find food. So yeah, the book must be limited and all that, but I'd say that covering a bit more is possible. I would at least list, even if briefly, the hotels and hostels in town and the restaurants, clubs, pubs and main attractions that can be located around it.

3. It's misleading on main attractions. Well, perhaps to the "Bulgarian level" it's fine, but when I go to a museum I actually expect to see more rooms of display and more "history" to the pieces. Honestly, a number besides a lot of ancient Thracian, Roman or Greek trinkets that say "various items, place unknown", really, I don't need to read it to know that! Or "offerings to the Three Nymphs". No introduction to the meaning of the Three Nymphs, who they are and why are they important or why would people present offerings to them or what kind of offerings were given for what reason. No, you go ahead and figure it out or Google it later! Also, you may often find vitrines marked only in Bulgarian. Hence the need to know the language. Now, not only the museums are small in size and somewhat  unorganized, but churches are also very small. Both in Sveta Nedelya and Church St. George the inside was so small it could hardly hold in 50 people. Church St. George actually indicated that groups no larger than 10-15 people should be in it. As for the sitting: hardly any sitting.

Sveta Nedelya

Church St. George

4. A mess with the streets. The first thing you must do before you leave to Bulgaria is to get yourself a map of the city. Do not rely on the map inside the book because it is REALLY HARD to match the "big map" with the "little map". I finally, somehow managed, through our specifical needs, in both maps. I managed to match bul Stamboliyski, which is the one of the many that gets to Sveta Nedelya. In the "big picture map" it's in the B2 square and in the A3 square of the "downtown" map. Why would that be important? So that if you are somewhere outside "the box" you can find your way INTO the box. Regarding the distances in the "detailed map" or "little map" or "downtown map", in real life they are suprisingly short. I would pretty much dare to say that everything within "the box" it's at walkable distance. However, inspite of the map and all, many of the streets are not marked up, or not the same way as they are in real life. So there you are with a handful of street names, a little bit of knowledge about how to interpret Cyrillic letters, and yet you can't find your streets. So a decent, big, normal map is IMPERATIVE.

For visiting Sofia you must come with love and an open mind, otherwise you are wasting your time. I came here with an ideal of the city, which turned out to be wrong, but at the same time I found myself gladly surprised as it all happened to be "cannon" with what I wrote some time ago about the people and the country. There is poverty, yes, and loads of simplicity, but a huge spirit that takes you off the ground, lifts you, inspires you and makes you... feel. Simple, poor, rundown maybe, but I love this city.

First Connection

Greeting from 45 minutes at the Praha Airport!

@ Leroy, where the World finds Meaning Again

This is me right now. Well, not "right now-right now", but less than ten minutes ago... well, maybe not, but definitivelly not 30 minutes ago. This is me at Leroy finding peace and quite, alone with a glass of coke and a crêpe that thretens to defeat me. Cottage cheese mixed with sour cream and sugar for filling, covered with warm vanilla cream and peaches on top. It is delicious, but after an avocado roll it is a bit hard to down. This is one of the happiest places in the world for me, and definitively the best place to be after a series of unfortunate events.

Only today I wanted to buy a particularly nice Swatch watch that I really wanted, which after a year of looking and finding nothing to my taste, I finally found that one, only to realize today that it had been sold. Sold, no more. That was a blow, a very low hit. Then I realized what I've been experiencing all year long: Swatch hardly has anything else to offer me. That's most disappointing. To wash over my sadness, I went to the Benetton store, to buy myself new gloves, since I lost my Parisian Benetton gloves somewhere, probably in my Escape from The House of The Mother-in-Law. I really loved those gloves, but the run and the escape are a fair price for my gloves. Now I'm wearing some ugly white Mickey Mouse-like white gloves I would rather not use. Well, gues what? No gloves. I mean there were some "gloves", red and green, in the best Louis Vuiton style, which I dislike. So, no Benetton gloves for me. I did found a lovely garbo blouse, stripped in green and blue shades, but I believe that 168€ (some $238) is just a bit too much for a garbo. Trust me, if I say it's a bit too much, it's because it is. Specially when a sweater of the same material, but with V neck costs only 47,50€ (some $67,50). I'm crazy for Benetton, but I am not stupid. There was a lovely knitted gray and coal skirt there, in one size only. S. I ain't no S, I'm an M, but like to wear L because it's more comfty. There were M and L skirts... in gray and white. I want gray and coal, not gray and white. It would have been lovely for this weater, but I want grey and coal, and though I could make an effort and try on the S, I won't. Why do everything has to be so hard in here?

There were other pieces that have got me thinking, a few skirts I could purchase, perhaps, and then leave them here so that I have some solid clothes ready for when I move in. The idea is good, but first I'd like to check on other Benetton stores bafore making my final decision. This store didn't take me off my feet, so it will be put on hold.

Now, regarding my latest skin products, I must say I've been transformed into a believer of L'Occitane. First of all, yes, when you have the chance, purchase the products at airports and Duty Free places, because even if you "think" $53 for the product is too much (specially this traveling kit of daily moisturizing 24 hour lasting cream and eye contour cream, both of shea butter, grand total: $53 in Costa Rica's airport) it is not. In Budapest you can't get the kit, only the creams by separate. Grand Total of both? $92. And it works. I mean, I know that my brand new glasses totally hide any bags under my eyes, which I have always had, but I can assure you that using the eye contour cream in the morning and at night have made VISIBLE differences on my skin. Puffiness has been reduced, darkness is gone and the daily cream makes my face silky even in this weather. I tell you all, I've found GOLD.

Initially I planned to scribble up an entry all in Spanish about the truth about my mother-in-law with a detailed minute-by-minute recount of the events occured on the faitful day of December 26th, but then I changed my mind. Perhaps it will still happen, but I believe I have to work some more on the subject, mull it over and fill my soul with other experiences to digest it better.

The end of the year is coming close and with it, the time for resolutions, for living and letting die, for letting go and going on. Time for the annual cleaning, when in mind, soul, body, space and cyberspace you let go of the things that anchor you so that the new year begins full with hope and possibilities and enough place to grow into. There's something so beautiful about getting rid of all those things you don't need, and look around and see so much space, so much "possibilities" around you. Cluttering slows you down, cleaning and getting space invigorates you. It is the best feeling in the world!

Mother-in-Law-House Break

This is me pretending to do some job. Why, and why today? Well, because as we seapk my boyfriend and his hineous family are upstairs pretending to be "the big thing" putting up a "presentation" for Christmas. A hineous presentation, I must say, I saw yesterday at my Father-in-Law's place, who, BTW ain't anything like my Mother-in-Law. If she could be more corny or "Brady Bunch"-like, she would. Looking at her is a sure way to go either anorexic or bulimic... from nausea alone.

But, do I hate my Mother-on-Law? Oh no, only when I get in contact with her, but otherwise I've no problem in the world with her. But my Father-in-Law... he is a god. Big time. I must get a picture of him and post it. He has that classic Sean Connery thing going on, speaks French and has pzaz and style like nobody's business. My Mother-in-Law is the epithome of tackiness. Did you know that she gave me "second hand"clothes for Christmas. For the love of beer, who gives such crap? Oh, no, ain't like she has no money, she gave me LOADS of it and so hineous nobody in no era would ever wear them. Yeah, you may wonder why would someone give someone else clothes when they barely know each other, after all no way to know sizes or tastes or anything. Well, I rather not embarch into the dangerous, poisonous lands of her thinking. On the other hand, my Father-in-Law, the gentleman as he is, gave me a wonderful, color perfect brown cashemire scarf I've been using ever since. It's just so perfect!! Soft and silky and it looks so good with my skin color and the clothing I usually wear, and my coat! I totally, totally love that man! ^_^

Hell... there's silence.

I must leave slowly, be back as soon as I get rid of these hineous people.

Home, Sweet, Cold Home

Budapest, cold -?°C. I'm home. It puts a smile on my face to say so, even if it's freaking cold outside, my lips get chapped like nobody's business and I gara tape up my fingers because cold and dry air are lifting up the skin of my cuticles in a rather painful way. Won't even tell you how fucking uncomfortable it feels to be typing right now. But even so, I'm HOME. For three weeks but I guess I gara be happy for whatever I can get.

Well, the travel itself was... interesting, to say the least, Amsterdam was so frott'n cold I wouldn't go outside even if I was paid (so I stayed at the airport the whole five hours), I lost my Hungarian phone's PIN number, which really got me running in circles like crazy, because, come on, a telecommunications economist with no telecommunications access? That's called "shame". I've got my PIN number then (got my Mom to look it up for me), an went then with my boyfriend to see AVATAR.

The movie was interesting to say the least. The topic itself was quite worn and a HUGE commonplace, some "leftover" remake from other movies, but at this point, and maybe from the Costa Rican point of view, it hit home with me. From frame to frame, it got me constantly thinking about "Crucitas", the gold mine Industrias Infinito, from Infinito Gold is trying to put up in our country, with the help of our ever so corrupted President in the middle of an Internationally protected area. Hell, the actions and the speech of our president often makes me think that the "Peace with Nature" thing he seems so fond to promote really means "Rest In Peace with Nature".

In the movie, both Michelle Rodríguez, whom I love, really, and Sigourney Weaver got non-demanding, usual-drift roles, which I really hated. Ms. Weaver got back to the Alien-meets-that-movie-about-talking-with-monkeys and Ms. Rodríguez was back to her boxing-tough-gal-like-a-man roles. It was a shame, I'd say, but still, the movie pulled it out to an average level.

Yesterday then, Kari and I got new glasses at my favorite optical store: Vision Expressz. Here's a picture of my new frames, what do you think? Simple, black, no bling, small, smart, I saw them and loved them.

Atr night we received our friends Emő and Títusz, and prepared for them potato skins, which proved to be an amazing success. Potato skins are tremendously easy to make and everybody fall in love with them almost instantly. It does entails somewhat of preparation, but it's really easy and the taste worths the working on it. I totally love it and nnow Kari is a believer too. We looked also at some pictures of Kari, which was amazing, because I would have never said that he was the kid in the picture. I would have sworn it was somebody else, and somehow I still believe that maybe he has been framed and that's not really him, but they've made him believe that the kid in the picture is him. I mean, minus the plucked eyebrow, I know that the girl in the picture with seaming face, big eyebrows and curly hair is me. Same nose, same mouth, same eyes, but Kari? Really.

Some of our programs had to be reprogrammed, mostly due to the snow. I mean, cars are burried and not even the cab will come up our street, as it is somewhat steep and the snow on it makes it slippery and totally impossible to climb with a car. I still gara do some calls, gara plan some cookies and stuff, still gara call my Grandpa and my Best Friend, among other things, but above all, I'll happy, if freezing, because I'm finally home.

Officially on Vacations

This is my last entry from Costa Rica, and since I've to board my plane in 7 minutes I'll keep it short. Not like I've much to say, though, I'm simply going home for three wonderful weeks and I can't wait to be there. ^_^ Kari is being such a dear, doing all the groceries, and calling the cleaning lady to clean up the apartment (probably so that I don't see the mess in which he lives, and therefore I don't give him a piece of my mind about why things should be left in museum-like reverence once I have ordered them), got out to get me my cereal (do you know there's no actual Hungarian word for "cereal" as in Corn Flakes, Cheerios, Rice Crispies and such? Hungarians don't eat cereals... it's madness for me), got me Heineken, icecream...

For the first time in my life, I'm at the VIP Lounge, where for straight 20 minutes I wasn't able to get on the Internet. However I've been nursing my Jack Daniels on the rocks and feeling great. The little nerves and bothering feelings I had at the begining finished when I finally got my luggage checked in, even if for the first time in my life I was made pay for teh overweight. $50 for 4 Kg. Yeah, outrageous. Specially when I've made it with far more than that before. I mean, two pieces of luggage and 4 Kg extra in total. Hn, something tells me those electronical weighting machines are scarmbled. I mean, yes that's the real weight of my luggage (or something like that, though today they seemed a bit lighter, though I took nothing from them), but it always shows less and I always manage to pull my luck and get away with murder.

Time to go now!

Facebook Battle

Today I decided to take my discontent with the popular social site, Facebook, a step further: I contacted Electronic Frontier Foundation and brought my complain to them. I ain't American, I ain't living in the U.S., but my rights to safekeep my personal information, to cancel any account of mine I've willingly and voluntarily opened have been violated by this enterprise, just like those of lots and lots of people across the globe. After all, Facebook won't go through the trouble of setting this traps and tacky blackmail antics just for me.

I mailed and told them what you all know. Now gara wait and see what will happen.

I don't want money, or Zuckerman's head in a pike, I just want my profile to be forever erased. I want them to relinquish my data, erase everything they have about me and forget I even exist.

Let's keep our fingers crossed, and our fist tight around the hammer.

What We Share

Last week I discovered that the movie AVATAR will be in Costa Rica's movie theatres by December 18th, which is not a bad thing, save that my flight departs the 18th, at 16:05, so there's no way in Hell I could watch the movie. Well, not like I'm such a big fan or anything, but the movie does tease my curiosity. The chances to see the movie on the plane are close to 0, and since it's a KLM flight and not an Air France one, the chances actually stay close to -100%. Yeah, KLM features movies like... well, like those movies you never heard about and if you did, I did everything in the world to avoid watching them, such as "Wall-E", "Juno" and any other thing that hardly reaches the PG rating. (Yes, I hate family movies.) In other words, KLM is one of the reasons why I'm so happy Nagi (my laptop) has a battery that stays alive for 2+ hours and that I've plenty of Supernatural downloaded in it. (Others are happy too, like the man sitting next to me in my flight back to Costa Rica this April, when he rather watched Nagi's screen discreetly, than watching the abhorrently boring movie KLM thought suitable to feature.)

Then, my curious brain posed a question: Is it possible I can watch AVATAR in Hungary? So I checked the movie schedules, and guess what? I can watch AVATAR in Hungary! Awesome! My plans actually include watching it the same day I arrive, which is totally doable (I hope), since there's a Friday's restaurant in the mall where I can see it in 3D. The question that arises then is: will Kari be up to it? Maybe he's tired or maybe he doesn't want to watch the movie. Well, I do, so I will. This then kind of got me thinking about relationships and the expected interaction within it.

As it happens, usually, for the couple to go anywhere there must be a consensus of some sort: you go to the movies to watch a movie only if the two of you decided to watch it, or one day the two of you go watch a movie you like and another day go watch a movie the other one likes. Same with everything. Either both of you agree into something or one day it's the day to please A and the other day the day to please B. But why should it be like that?

For instance, Kari loves African countries and all those wicked places that sound to me more like spices than locations. He wants to go to Mauritius, and Egypt, and... Timbuktu... I mean, what would I know, and you know when will I go there? On Neverday, that's when. I mean, I'll help him pack his luggage, and Hyne knows he'll need my help, make sure he has all he needs for the trip, take him to the airport, sit with him until the boarding moment arrives and wave him good-bye and then pick him up, listen to his stories, maybe even look at the pictures and pretend that's interesting, but I am not going, just like I would never pretend to drag Kari to go with me to some Jay-Z, Ja-Rule, X-Zibit, Snoop Dogg concert, or sit and watch a Dragon Ball Z movie, or Queer As Folk.

It is cool if the two of you share interests, such as The Gathering, Guns'n'Roses and Rammstein in our case, but if you don't, why do you have to force the other to "share" your likings? Why do you force yourself to suffer through the likings of the other? After all, just because you like your mate, it doesn't mean you have to like what she or he likes. I mean, he likes "halászlé" (a stinky Hungarian fish soup... totally disgusting) which I LOATH, and I like liver, which he can't even see in picture before turning into a full blown bullimic (no pun intended).

Then it extends. I was talking to Mom yesterday about chores and how Kari and I will cook together (I'll teach him to cook), but I won't be cooking. Mom said that though she knows I loath to do chores, I shouldn't place "the weight" on his shoulders, but rather do things because that makes him happy and hope he'll reciprocate. No ill intended, but I'm really not inclined to take such an advise for a woman whose husband wouldn't even swap up the coffee he spills on the counter. My approach here is "it's not MY duty, it's not YOUR duty, but it's what WE DO TOGETHER".

The thing is that I don't see why "being in a relationship" means that you have to accept to torture and be tortured. It doesn't make me happy to have someone wash my clothes, and I don't want to be with someone who gets happy because I cook for him. I don't want to give up the things I like and I don't want to impose them on anyone, not I want my boyfriend to give up the things that make him happy or trying to impose them on me. We might be together (well, we are) but each of us is still an individual, with individual likings and plans, and projects, so why to trample with them?

I wanna see AVATAR, but that's me, and I'll watch the movie, but if he doesn't want to, he won't. Plain and simple and it satisfies everybody. Why can't people see it this way?

Handmade Gifts

I may have not been able to send my Christmas Cards this year (and I not to myself that I will plan this better from now on), but I did manage to make some jewelry for some of my friends. Here are the pictures.

Nautica: Blue and Gold

Heart-in-Heart Lace Choker and matching Heart Pendant Earrings

Sunbead Flower: Amber Glass Flower necklace and matching earrings

Angel: Blue bead, pearl-like beads and wire angel "concept" with wing earrings.

#breakfasttour

After bitching about Facebook yesterday, and then dedicating a few tweets Today to #facebooksucks, because, believe it or not, it does, I've decided it was about time to write about something good, something nice, something positive, something like the #desayunotour, or #breakfasttour the Costa Rican Twitters put together Today.

It wasn't an easy task to bring together this activity, as the organizers, Shimmy Gin and I, don't really have the drive, the time or the social skills requiered to pull such an event together. Thinking about possible places to bring people together for a tweet-breakfast, the only place that came to mind was Denny's, only Denny's happens to have a few restaurants in the Metropolitan area, and some people were pulling towards different restaurants causing confusion among their peers. On the other hand, a matter that often slips my mind, Denny's is not your "average-priced" restaurant, less a "popular-priced" restaurant, so that also stirs people away as well.

If I must be honest, it kind of made me feel somewhat uncomfortable when Shimmy Gin turned the breakfasttour into a "farewell party" of sorts for me, since on Friday I'm leaving for Hungary (for three weeks). I mean, sure I like to go out with my friends, but having a farewell party every year before I do my "annual trip home" makes me feel... odd. I guess I just don't want to be singled out, and a lot of people looking at me like something "interesting" is happening with/to me does make me feel like some kind of circus freak. Thanks Hyne, though, that was not the case.

Shimmy Gin, Me, AceCostaRica and JoséGonzález, The Twitter BreakfastClub

Unlike with the #pintotour, an amazing and groundbreaking activity that should go down in the annals of history as "The Twitter Gathering", the #desayunotour was quiet, with very little concurrence. Only five of us were present. If I must say, I was somewhat relieved because I didn't count with the fact that Denny's doesn't really have space to accomodate a large party, particularly not on a Sunday morning, when everybody seems to stampeed to the restaurant to get a hearty meal.

AceCostaRica and The Girl With No Twitter

The conversation this time was different, and so was the environment. The group hardly broke into sub-groups, and I've got the chance to learn my companions a bit better. The girl of the group (I consider myself a "woman" because I feel too old to be a "girl", but she looks young, so I refer to her as "girl"), whose name still escapes my memory (shame on me), was ever so quiet, ever so silent and did seemed to me bored. As I watched her silently, I wondered whether she had been feeling the same way the last time. Her pretty deer eyes wondered through space as if looking for something interesting to engage with. I tried to imagine why did she attended to these activities if they held no particular interest for her. Silent and lady like, she was the image of something I can hardly fanthom. I did try to engage her in small talk and we managed to hold up smiley conversations for brief periods of time, but the high tech tone of the meeting rolled more than one yawn down her slim throat.

It was somewhat strange to realize that I could actually be engaged in a conversation where I simply listen, from which I don't really know much, of which I don't understand much, and yet I find it interesting. Then again, it's me, and maybe it was the "magic" of Shimmy Gin, whom many find boresome due to his long speeches, and yet I find tremendously interesting and refreshing.

AceCostaRica by himself, undiluded in a big crowd is an interesting character, with a very humanistic, very aproachable being. Calm, gathered, eloquent, set on certain firm ideas without rushing into quixotic fencing when one tramples over his views (which I did by pretty much shedding a veiled light on the fact that I'm somewhat of a "red" or a "lefty", or so was my impression). He's not a passive listener, but rather an active, constructive dialogue partner that builds up conversation, self assured enough not to fear for the reaction to his comments, but strong in message, while open to all reactions to them. A good leader or at least "second in command" material.

José González I met today, and I believe this small gathering was perfect to get a better image of him I'd hardly get any other way. High Tech enthusiast, well articulated, engaging speaker, easy smile and fun attitude without being a comic, but rather achieved by simply being casual and easygoing, I found his approach to life also quite humane, and open with formed opinions, an approach of life formed from within rather than inherited or stamped on, with a very appealing social orientation to learn, to know, to share rather than "convert". I was hooked.

This breakfasttour was seasoned with a good Americana food, with cups after cups of coffee, good conversation, laugher, politics, high tech and weird encounters. Oh yes, we had an Encounter of the Third Class. Some sort of microfiber or nylon yellow-and-red bubble-like monstrousity came out of the kitchen helped by two employees and conducted to somewhere else. We stared all at the strange entity invading the place, walking with difficulty, while we tried to understand what the Hell was that hideous thing doing there. I believe that creature must be the "brilliant idea" of some dunderhead who believes kids like deformed, bright coloured monster. (Like the one who created Barney.) The monstrousity walked behind us, and so I took a picture of it for posterity. The thing was something like a snail that exchanged its house for a disposable cup (was the snail evicted from its home? Suffered in the waves of foreclosure? Took a subprime mortgage?) and got some astronaut-like things attached to its back (a classical case of "Pimp My Cup-House"). I seriously fear the mental health of the children exposed to the creature.

Later on, the Evicted Snail Living in a Pimped Up Cup came back flattened and under someone's arm. A bright green shirted skinny guy seemed to be the "filling" of the monster. Well, I don't know what to think of it, though someone did comment that it was amazing how low people would slip in times of crisis.

Naturally, our small team wasn't much interested in the monster, or at least not as hooked as I was, holding up the thought for quiet mulling in moments of silence. A larger crowd, with fractioned conversations, breaking like a flat bread too big to hold its weight, perhaps would have given me longer lapses to ponder the irrational existence of the Evicted Snail From Tha Hood, perhaps yearn again for a moment to sneak out my journal and scribble in it cloaked by teh anonymacy of being a "fairly unknown twitter", slipping between the cracks of the conversation. However, our small, friendly gathering proved to be a frame that held us, participating or not, in the loop of it. Held us, but Deer Eyes, the Mystery Child. That girl does manage to kidnap ones thoughts away.

This was my last Twitter Gathering of the year, but it was wonderful. Thank You guys!!!!!

Facebook's Emotional Blackmail

Some days ago an acquintance from Twitter sent me an invite for an activity (being held as I write this post), which was anounced at a Facebook page. I closed my Facebook page several months ago because I came to deeply dislike their "all that's yours is no longer yours but mine" policy. It took me some time to close it since I kept in touch with a lot of people through it, plus I loved some of the apps, but it pissed me a lot to have my info sold for the profit of others, something unfair, specially wheh I'm bound to give truthful information (so that they can sell good data).

When I closed my account it upset me that I didn't really managed to erease my profile, as Facebook decided to keep everything "in case I change my mind". What a nerv!! So I can't take my data back? I can't actually erase my profile, no matter that that's what I want? No. Facebook will not let go of marketable assets. It also upset me then that I was requested to say why I was leaving, when I believe that's personal and they shouldn't be meddling in it. Then, if that wasn't enough, they added insult to injury by popping a prepared answer, an excuse from where I saw it, to whatever reason you pointed at.

Well, I walked out of it and this time, when I clicked on this invite, the page instantly opened up and showed me my profile, as if I have never left. I never got to the invite I was looking for, but got tangled in the Facebook, and so there I was cancelling the page all over again. Well, this time something changed, and that pissed me off for real. Facebook had the NERVE to show me the pictures of some of my friends who have Facebook and over each of them place a legend that said "Won't you miss...?" That was full blown cyber emotional blackmail. I couldn't believe they would use my friends to get me to stay so they can sell my info.

Again I was made to answer why I wanted to close my page, and I went rude, told them I dislike what they do and I simply want them to erase my profile. Not like they care, though, so I thought about telling people what goes on: Facebook doesn't really let your protect your info. You can filter visitors, but you can't prevent Facebook from selling your info. Once you put in your info, you can't erase it. I tried to punch out the info about my location, leave it blank, but that wasn't a chance. I had to put something. I tried to invent a place, write "Hell", but Facebook took the closest name from a town in Netherlands. Each app you agree into, each quizz, each of those things and games you are invited into are designed to syphon info from your profile, and now with the new app they've acquired, also from your computer and all your other accounts, and Hyne knows what else. So, my advise to everybody out there is: think twice before making a Facebook profile, and think about the info you put in there. Think that the info your place there is not only for other Facebook users to use, but also to be sold to companies, to make someone else rich at your expense.

Then, remember, Facebook is like Hotel California: "you can check in any time you want, but you can never leave".

Anneke Van Giersbergen

Today, minutes before the end of my woking day, when I stayed listening to Within Temptation and there, a song I have heard before like a thousand time got to me.

Do you know the feeling? That feeling of sudden Revelation, when something you've seen and you've enjoyed a thousand times before sounds new, unique, powerful and never heard before. It was this song, at the verge of 4:30, pouring as loud as the HP Pavilion I've at the office allowed it, directly into my ears, and I was transfixed, drunk with the sound, wrapped up in the heights of extasis listening with the agony of someone who has found Nirvana and doesn't wish to let it go in 5 minutes.

I searched the voice to find the Siren. Her name is Anneke Van Giersbergen and I've been mesmerized. I totally love her. She's my new favorite Tune.

Answer

Must be the Blogger. Yeah, that about not being able to leave a comment. I can leave it for my friend Dragonfly-cr, who uses that "pop-up window" style, but those with reply in the same window as the post (Julie, Sartassa and me) are comment-handicapped. Well, I hope it gets fixed quickly.

A Bit of Everything

14:48 and I'm feeling like I could use an episode of Supernatural. Now, I'd be watching it instead of writing an entry if I have already had my mind set on which episode I want to watch. I tell you, Supernatural is becoming more of a show you watch because the boys are cute rather than because of the plot. Not like it would be a PWP (plot, what plot?) in the bad sense of the expression (so not all about brainless sex, but rather Seinfield like, no plot, no action and no nothing), but more a case of PWTF (Plot, WHAT THE FUCK???), because, for the love of Heineken, in the name of anything out there to be loved, what's with the episodes? Bad is only topped by worse, and worse by "worser" (this word no not exist!!), and "worser" by Becky. So, while I was trying to make up my mind about whether plung my eyes somewhere into the 5th Season or maybe go back to the 4th, and only because I have seasons 1 to 3 at home, and those were really worth watching (I can't believe I'll say this, but they should just leave Dean dead. I mean, died TWICE and was Supernaturally pulled out of the hole twice? Who is he? Son Goku? And what's next? Fight Saiyans and gather the dragon balls? I mean, really.), I was making a mental review about anything I could write about.

On one had is the fact that I think I won't be able to send out my handmade Christmas Cards, basically due to a technical problem: though I took a fabric-made card as template for size, I can't actually find envelopes for my cards. This is kinda sad, because I really, really wanted to share my "concept" with ms friends, and perhaps next year they could improve on them. Well, that tells you about my uncanny skill for card making. I guess that will be a task for me for next year: "Improve the Card-Making Process".

Then, today I was going to check on my travel list, which is a list I compiled on Excel for me to check every aspect of my travel: reservations, papers, tickets, passport, things that go in the luggage, things that go in the handbag, things that go in the cabin luggage, things that MUST be in the cosmetics bag, and so on. It was compiled through experience, after many trips and after leaving everything at one point or the other. Well, guess who can't find her travel-list? Have checked two pendrives, and the only thing I can think of is that I left it in Nagi, my laptop. Well, Nagi is a sweetheart: he makes sure I've everything I need, starting with Supernatural Episodes for the office and for travel. Hyne, I don't know what would I do without Nagi. I mean, how can anyone travel without a laptop? Specially in a cross-Atlantic trip? It's sheer madness.

At work, I had an INSANE amont of e-mails to save, which I didn't do previously, so I spent a fair amount of my day doing so. There was some work to do, but thanks Heineken it wasn't that much, so I could concentrate on the e-mail thing. You know, it's not like something you "have to do" and will be measured based on that, but it has happened to me so many times that one single, stupid change in the system blows away all my e-mails, that I've taken the compulsive habit of saving them (those that are important). Saving them one by one, mind you, because that's the only way so far I know to do so. Then, as the end of the year nears up, I better take care of business and clear my IN and OUT boxes, save and file everything away, and keep then saving away incoming and outgoing e-mails as they come (and as I should have done it from the begining). In the end, the feeling of looking at the inbox and outbox and see that blessed little note hanging there "No items available", it's Heaven in Outlook. You know the feeling, do you? When the inbox and outbox are EMPTY, with no pending task, no outgoing message, no waiting for anything, no "still having to do" this and that. When everything is filed away and safe, so the threat pf loosing all those important e-mails no longer pends over your head... Then back them up, and you are ... like born again, free of everything.

For some people having loads of e-mails in their inbox, many of them unread, gives them a kind of pleasure I don't really get. I guess it feels something like that of having an overdevelopped amount of friends in your Facebook account or something of the sort. For me, e-mails, even those I love, are a "task", and if I leave them in my inbox is because I still have to deal with them. Answer them, download something from them, comply with a task associated with it, and so on. Some are nice, like the e-mails I receive from my friend Patricia, Sonja and Julie, and though it takes me time, I love reading them and replying to them, with ongoing topics about coffee, how-moronic-diets-are and girl-drinks, just to name some ^_~, but there are others like the ones I get from my boss and his boss, and other people from the company where question takes you back to documents and endless fixing, and typing and calling, and loooooong strings of "you frottin' give me the information I'm requesting or you'll know the Hell, this 'Babe' can stir up for you, Jackass" e-mails.

So, once I answer to my friends or comply to the boss, boss' boss or "whomever", the e-mail gets tagged, saved and filed away. That's the way I work. Then again, when five different people have nothing better to do than send you e-mails one over the other, the whole, comply-answer-tag-save-filen chain gets disrrupted and you simply comply-answer and continue with the rest, hoping to later on find a moment to tag-save-file. Yep, it's a nightmare, and the end of the year seems quite proper for this kind of phenomenon to occur. So I clutch to my lists, my worn, ragged little notepad filled with notes, numbers and lists and keep my thought in order in them. And so the twirl of Supernatural, work, Christmas Cards, Christmas Gifts, Amazon, Aerocasillas and other modern monsters can groan around you, and you can sink there, fight, get blinded, but at some point, the Notepad will pull you out. ^_^

I still need a better, stronger, faster, more modern PDA to replace my many notepads, but so far so good. I'm holding on.

Another bit: Replies. My friend Sartassa made this entry in her blog about Interior Decoration, and I wanted to reply to it, but I couldn't!!!! There was no way to reply. Actually, in her latest entries there's no way to reply. Why is so??? Has she banned us all out? Or is it a bug from Blogger?? Because I happen to have a few inexpensive ideas for a question she posed, but can't share them with her.

1 Hour writing this entry. It's about time I do something else, specially because it's 52 minutes before leaving.

These were the bits of my mind for all of you today. Live long and prosper!

The Heineken Way

Ladies and Gentlemen vs Women and Men

Disclaimer: This post has been inspired by a Psicoactiva Sensibilidad's post "De la Caballerosidad y las Damas", published on September 29th of this year.

The word "lady" seems to be something you are not "born" into but you have to "earn". Kind of like with "gentleman", I believe. The taking away, denying and bestowing of the word has also been used as a way to manipulate women. Being a "lady" is a desirable thing, but not all of us can be "ladies". So, what's the trick? Well, like many other "social labels", you can't achieve the label by yourself, but you have to wait for it to be given to you, and in the particular case of the "lady label", it seems it can really be given only by men. Or, if it is given by a woman or a group of women, men can revoque it. In other words, as long as men think you are a lady, you are a lady. The moment they cease to believe so, you are no longer a lady.

In case you wonder, the title of "gentleman" is also given by men, and even if women try to revoque it, as long as men keep it in place, the given man is a gentleman.

Now, though I know I'm going fast in here, jumping into the middle of the topic, cutting to the chase, lets take a moment to analize the patron seen here.

Lady - given by men (or some women)-revokable by men.
Gentlemen - given by men (or some women)-revokable by men.

If you, perhaps noticed, the concepts have a strong root in the patriarcal society. It primarily suits the needs of men, and if we delve into the content behind the concepts, we realize they are aimed to keep a given "world order", where women, these "ladies" take care of the house, and serve the men, while men take care of the business and offer protection to women. It is a social order, and actually there's nothing "wrong" with the concepts as they were born in a moment of history when that was the imposed "natural order of life". These concepts can quickly and basically be described as follow:

Lady: woman of certain age (not a child), quiet, obedient, helpful, guesses everybody's needs and attend them, sees for the sick, elderly, young and poor, charitable, generous, puts everybody's needs before hers, prone to self sacrifice, her husband and children are her first priority.

Gentlemen: strong, thoughtful, considerate, provider, calm, decision maker, protector. Stands for what's right, follows tradition, procures comfort to those weeker, recognizes and repects hierarchy, practices a humble behavior.

In a society were women are not allowed to participate in the productive activities, nor the political life, or any circle outside the house, this system keeps them all provided for, covered. However, what's the reality about these days? Men and women are equal, at least on the legal paper. Both can have the same preparation, go to the same schools, get the same classes, learn the same careers, get the same job, be promoted to the same positions. Both can vote and be elected. Both can enroll in the army, fight, handle guns, kill people. Women are still the only ones who can get pregnant, though, but those are biological details that shouldn't matter regarding what each can or can't do, what each are entitled to.

Through history, truth is that each time a man or a woman behaved in a way less than desirable, the titles of lady and gentleman were revoqued. In the particular case of women, if we were curious and wanted to learn, we weren't ladies. If we wanted to work, we weren't ladies, if we wanted to vote wew weren't ladies. If we had an opinion and voiced it, and Hyne forbid, it wasn't that of someone else, or it went against the opinion of others, we weren't ladies.

In my friend's blog, a long list of features are listed about what a "lady" should be, and honestly, many of them are demeaning. But has anyone checked the things about "gentlemen"? Because we are not the only ones. For instance, comes a man from work, tired like hell, barely keeping himself up, and yet he has to give his seat to some woman who's not as tired as him, just because she's a woman? I have been in situations were I'm not tired, and a visibly tired man stands up and offers me his seat. I've refused, insisted I'm not tired and will get off the bus soon and yet he stands rather than taking the seat that remains empty, while all men around me eye me as the "rebel little tough-girl who won't sit down".

I've come to the decision not wanting to be a lady. The label imposes too many useless, outdated concepts that do not apply to who I am, nor who I wanna be or become, or what I want from life. Truth is that I don't want to see any gentlemen either. Let's drop the labels, file them away along with those of knights and fair maidens, and lets simply be humans. Men and women equal, sensible to each other's needs, willing to give up a seat, open a door for those who are tired, who have worked hard, who pull themselves, their family up, to a better place. Lets respect merit, hard work, will, effort.

When will the world understand that the gender matters only for reproducing the species and nothing else?

Body

Perhaps it's time again to get on this "eternal" topic of mine (though maybe "recurrent" is a better suited adjective to it), but this was actually prompted by two separated episodes. The first "encounter of the second kind" was yesterday, before a meeting. A coworker and I went to this meeting (which ended up in a fight fiting in style with The Fight Club), and while we were waiting for the rest of the summoned employees to arrive (we were the first ones, basically because I dragged her ass there on time), this lady started talking to the people at that office whom she knew. To my amazement, her comment to those who came to talk to her were the same:

"Good Grace! You've got so fat!!"

Well, 1. Christmas time is here, and I don't know how it is in other parts of the world, but here (and in Hungary at least) the most delicious and fattening foods are prepared and consumed, and 2. What's her business what do they look like? Is she being paid for how thin they are? Did they ask for her opinion? It did was shocking, to say the least, but hey, she ain't known for minding her own business or being tactful arounf others (even though she claims to be so). She and another colleague of ours are overly wrapped around the idea of being thin. Dieting, competing to see who loses more weight, pulling every trick in the business and stopping short from getting liposuctions for Christmas. All that mindless search for thinness (regarded as the ideal of phisical perfection) leads them both nowhere. At one point I started considering yesterday to prepare them a card or some letter showing them a picture of Marilyn Monroe and another of a prisoner of a Concentration Camp to shake them off.

The second "encounter" with the topic was through a letter from my friend Sartassa, who added this topic to her latest e-mail. In her e-mail (and I'm free-quoting her here, though I have not asked for her permission... ^_~ you don't mind, do you?) she talked about how some food actually make people happy, noodles and chocolate toping the list. Gara say, I totally agree with her. After all, doesn't a bit of your favorite chocolate brighten your day, or the thought of a bowl filled woth warm gnoccis in tomato sauce and LOADS of freshly shredded mozzarella cheese, or ricotta cheese filled ravioli make your day? It sure makes mine! (I think onigiris and sushi should also be added to happy-food.) So, following the trascendental philosophy of my friend, why on Earth would you deny yourself a bite at happiness? I mean, not like food is the ONLY source of happiness, but it's one of them, and when you CLEARLY want it, crave it and feel it would be good for you, why do you say no? It's not like you are needing cocaine or something, it's food, and food is good. People work for food and shelter, so why would it be bad?


Thinness won't make you prettier or happier for that matter. Thinness can kill you. Canelloni don't. Thinness abuses of your body. Chocolate don't. Thinness brings a great deal of problems to your health and life in general. Spaghetti don't. I'm not telling you to be fat and pig out, I'm telling your to be... you. Your body has a natural shape and a natural weight, so let it reach it. It will change with the years, because that's part of getting older, which is also a normal thing. After all, trying to keep yourself young won't keep you from dying, nor will it make you "sexy". Trying to stay young past your youth will only make you look stupid in the best of cases and pathetic in the most of them.


I looked up for a few pictures of Marilyn Monroe on the net. Up to this day she's still being considered one of the sexiest women in history and the sexiest woman of the XXth Century. Please take a look at her body. She wasn't skinny. She was a size 10 when a size 10 was really a size 10 (today it's like a size 14-16). That body was the body of a perfect woman, desirable in every way. Curvy, full, womanly. Please, take a good look at her and take a good look at yourself. Are you trying to become a sick little person or do you wanna be who you are? Are you ugly and fat or are you actually desirable?


It the end, it's no about making yourself into a Marilyn Monroe, or "finding the Marilyn in you", but to realize that the world is flimsy and it will always find something "imperfect" in you, something to criticize. You've got to grow above it and realize that the only opinion that matters is YOURS, and tell all those poiting fingers at you to shove it. Be happy, eat what you want and as much as you want, pursue your happiness because nobody is going to do it for you.

Peaceful Sunday

It seems that letters keep scaring me away. My head is filled with things to say, but instead of writing them down I stare at my sheets of red paper and am afraid of screwing up the critical first three lines. Sometimes I think I should just let it go and chose lined paper, but each time I take one of those I end up throwing the sheet to the wastebasket because the lines bother me. Then, though I've a letter to answer, and am not writing the first one, that first sentence is getting to me. How should I start? It's driving me bonkers. However I'm determinated to write them today and send them away tomorrow. At what time I've no idea, as I'm seem booked all day, but I'll sure find a moment to send them all.

The day started incredibly well. I was up early morning, washed my hair and prepared my breakfast before sitting down to Skype with my boyfriend and tweet away my morning tweet. Picked up my clothes and made myself a good, tasty breakfast with the bread loaf I brought from Limón and a fried egg sided with coke, Béres drops and my financial paper. I was looking for a glass I like, which looks much like a whisky glass, when I found it occupied by this adorable flower. It probably fell from one of the hanging baskets of the yard, and Mom decided to rescue it and keep it living in the whisky glass. It was simply so beautiful that I had to take a picture of it. I still promised Mom to help her buy something she wants on the Internet, taking advantage of the Black Friday, so probably a lot of books on Optimization Theory and some Chomsky ones will be making their way to my "smart address box".

My main tasks for today are replying to my letters and making my Christmas cards. I actually bought the materials for the cards yesterday in the capital city. The main supply, the construction paper, came in a package of 96 sheets in eight different colors. The sheets where interlayered, which I hate, so I opened the package and put all colors together and then ordered them by chromatic order. (Slightly control freak, as you can see.) Thanks to this I realized that the sheets were too thin to make cards out of them, which is why I had to go today to get thicker cardboard for them. I've been working on a few ideas, and I've came up with the main "topic" of this year's cards. Kari asked me to take pictures of them when they are ready so that he can see them here too.

It's been a while since I last prepared something handmade (other than a few pieces of jewelry) so I'm a bit aprehensive, but I wanna try. ^_^ After all, if I screw it up I can do it again, right? Nothing to lose and all the fun to have!!

Today wicked kids dressed up strangely gathered up at my old Highschool. It was so henious I took another route on my way back. Today the day has been warm and the breeze refreshing, the coke was good and the lunch indulging. Today my tasks are beautiful and the day is absolutely peaceful. Today is a good day.

The Happiness of Costa Ricans

Saturdays usually mean to me "tour-day", since it's the only day I can run around and do my errands. Saturdays like today are "busy-end" tour-days, since it's the Saturday when I gara do the most errands (an average of 3 banks and two ATMs in 3 to 4 hours, plus the post office, and now that I remember, phone paying (haven't done that yet)). Today's errands included two banks to pay credit cards, two ATMs to get the money to pay the credit cards, and a bank to get a replacement for an expired card. However, in order to retrieve the card I had to go to the capital city, which meant to take a bus and go over there, and that added at least two hours to my regular routine.

Since I fell asleep yesterday at 20:30 - 21:00, today I woke up at 6:17. Did my bed, started Nagi, picked my clothes and then sat down to talk with Kari on the Skype. I totally, totally love him. Oh, and he looks so handsome when he goes to the office! Hair well kept, nice sweater... I'm one lucky lady ^_~. We couldn't talk much since he had work to do, and I had my errands to run.

I must say I'm a really-really lucky and happy person. When I was starting my trip, I found a small coin in a sewer but I didn't picked it up because it was under the water and I wasn't gonna touch it and get some strange sickness from it. However right before the first ATM I found another coin and this one I picked it up. I have this personal believe that if you don't pick up the little coins on the street, you don't deserve the big money. Besides it's a symbol: if you don't appreciate small things and cherish them, how could you appreciate the big ones?

Regardless of the fact that I had so many places to go and so much stuff to take care of, I felt happy and cheerful the entire day. Didn't mind going to the capital city, didn't mind the little traffic jam knots here and there. People all over the place, everywhere I went was friendly and seemed really happy.

These are mixed days for many Costa Ricans as those who work (and have the luck of still having this) get paid a thirteenth month wage, called "aguinaldo". The idea is to get people more money for gifts and vacations, as usually in these days people take the family to some place to vacation. This is the good side, but the bad side comes soon after, as thugs and thiefs get more agressive these days pulling their tricks, often kidnapping people or robbing them at gun point. Workplaces and advertisements try to protect people giving them advises about how to make sure they can keep their money and their safety.

Inspite of this, people on the street were chirp. Among street sellers, I saw three old teens dressed rather darkish hold up signs that said "HUGS FOR FREE", which put a smile in my face. I've got free, honest, sweet smiles from strangers as I walked down the crowded boulevard as I went for craft materials for my handmade Christmas cards (have a nice and simple concept I'd like to develop! I'm being totally inspired by my friends Julie and the things you can see in her We've Got Paper blog, and Patricia and her My Sunshine Pictures), a Red Cross man selling bingo cards from the Red Cross car (something the Red Cross here is forced to do to get funds) smiled like a Dad at me when I asked for directions and was so helpful and nice he really made me feel cared for, loved and at home. People like him really make Costa Rica the best place in the world.

Yes, there's corruption and crime is reaching new heights, and yet the Costa Ricans, and people here in general pick up the tiny coin in the street and smile at it. People here, unlike elsewhere, do seek the small joys of life, find time with friends and family to throw a party, or go drinking, get a coffee, laugh a little, forget about politics and jobs and issues and concentrate on bitching about football soccer. Everywhere, even in the middle of the greatest poverty, people find a moment to smile and be happy. Lay back and enjoy the present, the things before their eyes, the jokes, the sun, the company.

Among the things I saw today, I saw one thing poetically beautiful. It happened in one of the worse parts of town, there were not even idiots or angels were venture. Drug worn whores and their pimps, thugs and thiefs, crackheads and illegal immigrant workers crawl around there. Long lines to enter run down "cuarterías", which are stinky buildings where workers can rent a bed or a cardboard on the floor to crash for the night, wait for someone willing to take them on a poorly payed, overly exploiting job. A place where a 14-hour $100 per month job at a sweatshop is a marvelous dream come true. The bus I take from San José to Heredia, the Alajuela bus goes through there, and so, from the aparent safety of the bus, high up there with my cards paid, my craft shopping done, my lunch at Wendy's finished, I saw the usual like of immigrant, poor workers lined up against a wall, as if waiting for some sort of opportunity, any opportunity. All of them were sitting on cardboard box pieces, many of them sleeping. And there, among the sad, tired faces, one was somewhat happier, content by being busy with oranges he was pulling from a bag and gathering them at his feet and chatting with a mate. There, next to the orange piler one, a particularly tired and dirty looking one, dressed all in worn black, got the head of a white lily-like flower. His face lit up and his fingers twirled the flower slowly between his fingers.

I was marveled there. This pure white flower, so simple, in the hands of this man, so dirty and dressed in black was the essence fo something so greater than him, than us. The contrast between the man and the flower was a methaphore to the contrast between that pure, honest, uncorrupted happiness in his face and the sad, dangerous surroundings. I was late to take out my phone and take the picture, but I was deeply touched. Here he was, in the middle of his possible misery smiling, enjoying by his own the beauty of this flower. He didn't discard it as something unmanly or dead or stupid, or something he can't keep or make into money, drugs, food or shelter. He simply closed himself around the flower, cutting the surroundings and let himself be happy. Foreigner or not, he and that huge happiness reflected in his face reminded me of Costa Ricans: we can be deep in shit and yet, we can find that white flower and smile and love and be happy.

Nuke the Fridge

After watching yesterday the movie Julie&Julia, which I loved even though I disliked Julie for being such a pansy (sorry, but she is), today I made a tad of research (which is definitively much better than doing research on Krycek and finding out that for each straight-cut-show-oriented site there are 10 dedicated to Mulder/Krycek), looking up the actual blog and reading into it. (The feeling of pansiness didn't wilter when reading the Real Julie Powell.) As I brownsed through her entries, most of them long after the project itself ended (the ones I read, mind you), I found this interesting expression: "jump the shark".

The first time I saw this expression was in Supernatural, and it was the title of an episode (#19, I believe) in the fourth season. I've kind of didn't get it then, but then again there's often nothing to get out of the titles of the episodes. So, when I saw it in Julie's entry, it came to me that it may have some meaning, so I looked it up, and I've got an interesting results. Jumping the Shark, also refered to as Nuke the Fridge (after that amazingly dumb scene in the fourth Indiana Jones movie where Indi escapes a nuclear blast by getting himself in a fridge) refers to that moment, that point in a TV show were it reaches it's climax, and after that it's all down hill. Brought this to the everyday life, this expression refers to that moment or that thing after which everything simply goes down the sewer, the attempt to "make something wow" but after which there are no plans, we run out of ideas the point and purpose of the whole thing is lost and gone for good.

This meaning, this discovery got to me, and though I am a Supernatural fan (but not a Super-fan, I mean, dude, that sucks worse than the monkey in the sun), I'm not fond of the "jump the shark" as much as of the "nuke the fridge", so that would be the expression I'd be using from now on. The reason why the expression got to me so deep was due to the fact that it suddenly gave me a phrase to express so many things that happen around me. Projects that are dragged for years, innefective managing that just can't go on but still pushes the same worn, obsolete line... nuked the fridge ages ago. The social club to which I had a some sort of indirect affiliation, and then others to which I was indeed affiliated, that after a given level of action started drifting more towards the gossip and the social teen-drama-queen-attention-whore awards rather than concentrating on the subject that had them all together in the first place... and I left as the fridge was nuked. The friendships that lost their magic, where there's nothing else to talk about, and I stepped out of them after it nuked the fridge. The relationships and acquintances abandoned before the nuking of the fridge, and those were you can see that the fridge will be nuked soon. It's the useless, tasteless, deceptioning aftermath of something that was good before, that was great and now lies spread open and hollow. It's the moment after the party with a sucky after party.

As we speak fridges are being nuked everywhere. Financial plans that won't foresee the long run, the project that doesn't calculate what will happen with the resources once it is over, the relationships that are build upon one flimsy piece of something, an ice cube that will melt and there is nothing built for what will be once the cube is gone. In no case, or none that I can think of, nuking the fridge is a positive thing. It is the start of the disaster, the start of the preanounced failure, the flimsy attempt at keeping a crown that no longer belongs, and so it must be avoided. But what can we do to avoid nuking the fridge? Well, let me put up a few ideas from the top of my head:

#1 Avoid nuking the fridge. That one is pretty obvious. If you've got to the point where you have to resource to that hidden stash of Uranium, or get some and that old grandma fridge in the basement, it is time to pull down the shades, close the door and walk away.

#2 Planificate-planificate-planificate. And here I don't mean l'art-pour-l'art planification many seem so fond of, but I mean to actually plan for something duable, realistic, consider all possible outcomes, interferences, and above all, what to do next. For instance, not only plan the business or the job, but what to do when it ends, what to do when you retire. Sure, not a day-by-day planning, but for instance, what will you do when you retire? Start a new business, go to the Bahamas, paint, write a book of all the gossip and stupid people you've met, pictures included... get a plan!

#3 ..oh, there's a movie at the office, so I'm leaving this here. Will tell you the rest later... if I remember. ^_^

Just remember: DO NOT NUKE THE FRIGDE!!!!