The End is Nigh

Property of Stormberry.

In my last post I wrote to you about a book, written by the father of a friend, which I didn't really like that much. The book, not the friend. Then, I've got a book from the same author - given to me by this friend - and I was over the moon. It was a book he had written (my friend's father, not my friend) about Rosa Luxemburg, a Polish socialist revolutionary, who lived in the turn of the century (like, the past turn of the century, from 1871 to 1919, or so), whom I like and whom I want to research a little more. Yes, I could have started by reading her letters (which I have... in German), or her books (I just realized I actually already have some of her books on my Kindle, because I could lay my paws on it for free...), BUT my friend had said his father had written about her, and I wanted to read that book. I actually pestered him for a while since I had to wait until the book actually hit stores here.

The first third of the book I really liked. It's about Rosa's life and her circumstances. It does have a few things that make me cringe, like a notorious disregard of the use of commas and other puntuation signs, a profuse use of outdated, obscure terms nobody uses anymore... since the Middle Ages, a strange tendency to call Wrocław "Breslau", and never noticing that today is called Wrocław, among other strange things. Mr. Quesada's misogynistic views still came across regarding Ms. Luxemburg, but after reading his novel, I guess that was to be expected.

Then I passed the first third and... and I lost my cool. Strange things happened in the book, like a chapter finished with a page and a half of back-to-back quotes, pretty unrelated one to the next, and no reason as to why they needed to be included. To me it felt like an unfinished chapter, where he had dumped the pieces he wanted to develop, but then forgot about it and sent it out to print. Then the grammatic errors started to pile up, like separating the subject from the verb with a comma, when it had no need to be done that way, sentence connectors bracketed between commas, because HEY! Commas are trendy. Aaaaaand then came the graves error of all: crass mistakes about economical theory and economical interpretations. Like what? Like claiming that the "merchandise WAGE" has a price... when the mercandise is Labor and Wage is the price of it. Because, you know, you can't go to the market to buy a wage, but you can buy Labor by hiring someone, and you pay that Labor with a wage. Or claiming that Jean-Baptiste Say claimed the contrary to "production creates it's on market", when M. Say said that "the Supply creates it's on Demand", and Mr. Keynes proved him wrong.

And to think that this man's son is an economist that could review and correct his father's mistakes.

The book also includes circular chapters that go on and on and on about one single idea. Like a pile up of all the ways the same thing can be said. The piled idea? Imperialism is the extended Capitalism, and it needs wars to keep gobbling up more and more resources to keep the increasing production and profit creation. No less than four chapters are devoted to this one idea without adding anything to it. No historical frame, to facts, no nothing, just this one idea repeated over and over in different ways.

I'll finish the book, because maybe it will have a good ending, and because I want to extract as much of it as I can, but from what I read, I can no longer trust a single word. If the economical material in it it's flawed, how could I trust the rigurosity of the research behind the rest?

Property of Stormberry

Other than that, the days have a tinted, mulled quality to them. It's the last week of work before out mandatory vacations, and nobody wants to work, everybody wants to party and drink wine, or use the time to chat with friends at the office. Goodness yes, we all have stuff to do, of course, but we don't want to do it. The sun shines just the right way, the way we here call "Christmas Weather", and trade winds chill us all.

I haven't made my holiday shopping yet, which is so funny, because usually I'm already done and ready by this time. Ok, normally by this time I am in Europe, unpacked, wrapped in my winter gear and again confronted with the strange selection of veggies at the Hungarian supermarkets, and profusely planning all my errands and visiting my favorite places along with planning out all my visits to my friends.

This time around I'm staying put in Costa Rica because I have Grand Plans: I have to be here for when the building of my house starts! :-) House I am already calling House of Seven Gables. It will have five gablets and two gables, BUT it shall be officially considered as a house with seven gables. Because I say so. :-)  Cool, right? I also have to save some more money for it, of course, because there's not such a things as too many precautions, and so I want to be all prep'd up. It's so exciting! ^_^ I'm just so over the Moon with this.

So yes, I'm being a responsible adult and staying here for my beloved house. It feels so good to say that. ^_^

I've also had a couple of other successes this year, like I managed - after great obstacles and issues - to get the director lady of the Marketing Faculty to give me the green light with my thesis project. Not like she had anything to object to my topic, but because she was objecting things that she should have done previously. It didn't sit well with her when I pointed out - with evidence and sending a copy of the e-mail to her boss - that the things she was objecting where her responsability to fix. It took her until the last day of work at the University for her to finally give me the go. So next year I'll start my fourth thesis project.

I also managed to pass my B2d German course, which completes the B2 level - which is the highest middle level - and which means that next year I'm in for the C1, which enters in the advanced level. Not like I really feel like I know all that much German, mind you. So, in the light of that I'll take a couple of summer classes - I'm thinking about a class in German Literature and another in German Art and History - to practice. In this same line I've also started considering taking an intensive course of German in Germany through the Goethe Institute. This is still a raw idea, as I have to consider things like how my finances will be after the house building, maybe a trip to Europe in Spring that's still not fixed, the remaining vacation days I'll have left, how things will stand with my thesis by then, my workload, and how things will fare with my Accounting.

However, if this comes true, I'm planning on picking Düsseldorf for studying, and a four-week plan somewhere in the Fall.

Property of Stormberry

But this are all plans for the future. Currently I want to live and enjoy this time of relaxed days, "mulled" as I called them earlier, because days do seem infused with the taste of mulled wine, even if it's not customary here. In case you wonder, we did have mulled wine or Glühwein to end our German class, because that was given. (And we had also Lebenkuchen too!)

I haven't been much at the city center, but last week I went once, and I liked it. It's not a pretty city, with low buildings, lots of dirt and crumbling places, narrow streets that can't cope with the amount of cars and busses crammed through them but I kinda like it.

This year - due to the self imposed budget constrictions, I decided to go for books for most of my gifts - and keep my gifts to the minimum. (A good thing about finally cutting some of my toxic relationships in my life is that I'm no longer obligued to scout for gifts for people I know won't appreciate them.) I'll concentrate on family and my closest friends, and that will be it. For that, I plan to make a few trips to San José city center, and wander around, checking shops and coffee shops and allowing myself to be seduced by the taste of a city that doesn't carry a tropical flavor, but that has warmth, and umph and some strange creativity. Where the garbed cosmopolitan vision of sadly pusher-uppers try to imprint upon a culture that will always, always prefer simple comfort and laid back attitude to over-processed confections.

Hey, these are we a nation that likes to lounge on a hammock, that do like skyscrappers and high tech... as long as we don't have to sweat for them, because we love our free time, and our free time means time to grab a beer with friends, laugh and be completely impulsive and spontaneous. Blame it on the fact that we have beaches 45 minutes away... we are used to the easy way of life and we really don't want to change. And these days, are Our Biggest and Easiest Days.

Perception

Property of Snowberry

A friend of mine had recommended me a book by his father some months ago. His father is a historian and has published several books in Costa Rica, mainly through university publishers like the EUNA and EUNED. His emphasis is primarily on Latin American history, oftentimes with a slight leftish taste to his topics. I came to this recommendation as I was once talking to my friend and the name of Rosa Luxemburg came up. He mentioned his father had written about her and I've got ecstatic about the possibility of laying my hands on it. As it is, his book on Rosa Luxemburg is not available here, but for some reason available only in Chile.

Anyway, we've kept talking and he recommended me this book titled "El poema perdido de Aurora Cáceres" (The lost poem of Aurora Cáceres), saying he was sure I would love it. Trusting as I am, I've searched this book low and high and found it at the International Literature Festival held here in the end of July (or was it August?). It wasn't until recently that I've got to read it - following a month of October packed with other death-centric readings - and... Well, here is where our actual post start.

In my personal experience, Latin American authors that try to cultivate the "true Latin American literature", like to fall back to their own experience and their own lives as sources of inspiration. I find it funny because often these author have ample international experience, and many of them had studying experiences abroad is "posh" places such as wherever in the United States and wherever in Europe. Yet, as they come back, they seek to detach their work from what may have amazed them over there, by sticking strickly to their Latin American prism. I can't precise it where, but I do have a hazy memory of someone saying that true literature could only come from the personal experience of the author. Now, clearly I disagree with that. Mystery writers don't write from experience (at least I hope), and sci-fi and fantasy are clear examples of the heights imagination can reach, completely detached from experience. However the experience-centered literature was a thing and is a thing in some circles.

Aside from the "write from what you know" idea, the language and the wordsmithship of many Latin American authors favor a certain crudity in their expression. Sensations and facts and happenings are literally vomited over the pages in raw, unprepared, brutal ways.

As I started reading this book, I was quickly confronted with this vein of the literature, then it was rather quickly sinking deeper and deeper into a pit of dispair and misogyny. Page after page the story revealed a self absorbed man, desperate to escape, though there is never a clear thing or person or idea from which he tries to distance himself. Responsability, maybe? As the character delved into a dizzying world of sexual chaos, his thoughts about his family and his children were sprayed carelessly around like a second thought, or the remnants of puke dripping from the soiled cuff of the shirt. Though the crude sexual language and the demeaning phrases and pictures conjured by the author, the fleeting mentions of the family - dismissing the wife and the kids and centering only of the lost son, the dead one, and mainly on his death, not even his life - were disturbing.

I consider myself a regular reader, with not many qualms about what I can stomach when reading, and certainly I'm resistant in reading material of sexual nature, but this book became hard to swallow for me. It was not only the crudity of the language, but I was now seeing my friend through the eyes of his father, my friend's family through the eyes of a man who couldn't care less about about them, for whom they were a fixture or an excuse in the best of cases to justify his unsatiable need to run away from everything and purposefully seek out and choose the worse possible options in life. I held the book and my eyes trembled thinking of my friend reading those words. I was holding in my hands a sticky door to private, sickening family drama. How could he read that? Had he really read it or did he just recommend it based on the blurb?

The blurb does say it is a book about books and what people does for book, but the books in this story are nothing other than a poor excuse to shamelessly display a story written with a penis.

In some parts the author displays a heavy influence by Henry Miller - quite a taste of hos Tropic of Cancer - where the treatment of women is demeaning and visceral. As Miller, this author also vilifies the women in the story, making them all into dick-hungry, devious, stupid whores that try to hold up some sort of moral of intellectual standard that crumbles down in the end by their interaction with men.

As the story flows and the spirit of the author skinwalks from character to character, letting go of the family to simply concentrate on the women that play with them, sparsed with stories of lost poems, rare books and whatnots, and some careless homophobic slur passed as "male Latin American culture", it becomes easier to detach from the second hand pain my friend could have experienced, and see the author to the eyes as someone that has nothing to do with me. Through his skinwalking, as he sheds his visible social accesories, things start to emerge. For once, he does subscribe to the Latin American troubadour movement, but wraps it up in fashionable dispair. His once leftish inclination mutates into a bourgeois lifestyle, where flippant and fashionably acid comments cover up for the fact that he has, indeed, abandoned the red ranks. He sheds family and ideology, and instead rises the dregs of a disorderly life where everything is seen with hatred and crudity.

A picture emerges of a disorderly life where luxury and an accumulation of trips and trinkets out of the hands of the middle class of the seventies are coveted to be displayed in a purposefully disdainful manner in order to cover and justify for a dirty, disrespectful sexual pursuit of women (better if you can snatch a couple of sexual encounters from under her man, and give her back well used). Destinations stop being flashy, and listings of all the books and authors and... yeah, the eye jumps to the end of the comma string (which sadly you can't do when talking to someone), you are faced with a man who sees life as an unhappy, unsatisfying cesspool where his whole existence, his whole richness and all he possesses swirls around the stench and waste. A man who swells his lungs with putrid air and relishes in the fetid broth he has created around himself.

I asked my friend if he had read the book. He had. But had he really-really read it? Yes, he had.

"Why? Didn't you like it?"

"I... rather not tell you..."

"You didn't like it?"

"It's... disturbing."

"You didn't like it then."

"I can't forget this is your dad, and you read this. I find it disturbing from that perspective. I find it hurtful."

He dropped the topic.

Preying on Desperation

Property of Stormberry

Classes are about to start for me (again) next week - both in my German classes as well as with the University for the fourth and last (hopefully) career in Marketing. With that in mind, I decided to pick up on a well loved practice of mine, which is the Letter Writing Mondays. Instead of the usual Starbucks close to the office, I went to another closer to home. There I've got a cup of fresh, diced fruits, a bottle of water and a Pumkin Spice Latte. Yes, it's back in season and I want to make the most of it.

This particular store has a very unfortunate space distribution, because the single tables are all next to the waiting line, and in front of the door. These are always windy, cold, and offer no sense of privacy at all. Thus, when studying here or writing letters, I always choose the large table. Since there isn't much space available for working, this table is usually ocupied also by other people, and this was also the case yesterday.

All was good and dandy, until the clients of the other two girls occupying the table arrived. At first I thought the girls were simply university students working on some project, but then it turned out that they were salespeople for some sort of academy/business that offered some flash-not-so-flash course on FOREX (it's a virtual stock market for divisas), and also gave the students/investors an account with US$50 for them to try out and make money. (Cost of the bundle? Around US$216). They were right in front of me, so I was forced to listen to their sales pitch, and goodness gracious, it was textbook scam case!

The leader saleswoman started introducing herself and empathizing with the "clients" (I put that in quotation marks because instead of potential clients, I believe them to be potential victims). She claimed she also had such a hard time, and had also taken fake FOREX courses and seminars, but then she decided to put her whole unemployment compensation check (Note: in Costa Rica, by law, when someone is fired by causes other than their own fault, companies must pay the person a month of salary for each year worked - proportional too, for the months that do not add up to the month, up to eight years maximum. This is the compensation check I mean.) into this academy-thingie and has been doing great every since. Now, THAT is a lie: people don't really put all their money into one uncertain thing, not in Costa Rica. Yes, people lose money and get scammed, but Costa Ricans are cautious by nature. They could put all their money into a store, a bar... something that can be sold if it doesn't work, but not into an academy/business with such a high risk.

She followed her pitch with the usual "success cases" of people who allegedly made it. People you can't check on. It's worthy to note that Costa Rica has a very incipient stock market, and that's so because all big businesses are family owned and remain so. If I recall correctly, we have only three or so publicly traded companies, and then the usual, Government papers, brent and so on. I might be mistaken, but the general feel is that. So, if there is no big stock market culture here, how exactly can you point to credible "success cases"? Well, there was a couple, who are preachers and have four kids. Yes, preachers here tend to do really, really well. When they are charismatic they become millionaires by preaching that "Prosperity Bullshit" thing. So, FOREX? Nah, more like the power of their god moving their flock to shower them in money.

The came the third part of the pitch: "you make as much as you work for". Now, in other pyramidal businesses, usually you can easily sell the idea that you can make as much as you want it you apply yourself to it. The usual pitch in this cases goes like: "Well, if you make a $5 sell each day, you'd make $25 in a week, and how much would that be in a month? It's up to you." They deliberately choose a low number to make you think it's so easy. What they purposefully leave behind is that you can't sell something everyday, that the moment you run out of friends and family to sell, you are up to your own devises, stuck selling some product or some investment idea that will sound shady for many. Not to mention that you may lose family and friends in the process, specially if you are desperate and this is the only way out you've found. It also leaves conveniently behind the fact that more often than not, pyramidal schemes push people into expenses and debts they didn't have before, locking them up in a worse situation. And so, when the market turns against you, this very pitch turns against you and make you think that you are the failure, the problem, and not the scheme that was designed to scam you out of your money and the money of the people you could rope into this.

The leader saleswoman went on showering the guys with a long list of off the mark comments, like telling them that bitcoin were "fake money", or that Trump started his empire by investing US$100 in the stock market. (His father lent him one million. He has been bankrupt three or four times, and he doesn't let anyone check on his finances, not to mention that his children and his company apparently made some shady business with the money of their charitable foundation. So yes, he is not the right person to convince someone to invest.) Not once did I hear any of the saleswomen tell the guys that FOREX has very loose rules and basically stands unregulated. Basically there are no protections - as far as I know, from what I've read and learned - for investors and investments.

At one point the pitch became so infuriating, that even though I kept snapping my head up and frowning (and one of the "clients" saw me), I had to stand up and leave. Hell, I don't know if I did right, if I should have intervened, but I definitively couldn't stay there and keep listening to these women spooling their words and lies to these guys. However, I decided to come to you and tell you about it and give you a few advises on this regard.

1. If someone proposes you a business, always make sure they tell you right away what's about. Don't agree to any meeting if they tell you they will explain it then. No. If someone wants to propose a deal, they can tell you right up front, so you can do research ahead. If they do tell you, then jump on the Internet and research everything you can about the topic. That way, when you go to the meeting, you will know if they are lying to you, leaving stuff behind, and could also pose better questions.

2. Beware of the business deals where there is a pitch prepared. A pitch structured in a lenghty form like empathize with the client - success cases - you can do it - if you work hard you can succeed/little effort can get you anywhere are trademarks of shady deals. If it really were so, a lot of people would be millionaires or would not risk their necks with drug trafficking.

3. Do not trust in deals that want you to either put upfront a big amount of money, or want to rope you into a plan of payments or want you to make a decision on the spot. If they don't seem willing to give you time to think, they are not trustworthy. Run if they try to convince you after you've said no, even if it is a simple comment like "What a pity, you missing this great opportunity". They are after your money, they want to scam you and they are hurt that you (and your wallet) got away. If they give you the time, use it to research about everything you've heard and the company doing the offer. Also, take some time to cool down and see things clearly.

4. Don't trust any deal where the salesperson claims that they or someone they know made a risky move to enter. Anything like claiming to have taken a mortgage to get the money to enter, max their credit cards, invest all their savings, put in all their insurance money, put in all the severance money they've got from their last job. This is an attempt to normalize in your eyes a shady move, make you think that you are being stupid by not risking. This sort of stories fake, true or half true, are meant also to reduce in your eyes the perceived risk of the deal.

5. When a pitch includes any sort of line that puts down other honest jobs, or being an employee, run. Truth is that not all businesses are a success. Not all brokers make it into a millionaire lifestyle. Not even the majority of them. And the risk of falling and losing it all is there. If you are in a hard situation, look for employment. Jobs tend to be a less risky way to getting an income and doesn't require of any up front investments.

Any true deal and any true business is transparent and gives you time to think about it and research. Scams don't, because they need to get you confused and roped in before you get to see what you've done. Please be careful.

Journals Waiting

Property of Stormberry

Yesterday I had a chat (via WhatsApp, mind you), with my dear and Best Friend Arjen about all things related to post, paper and how much we totally and absolutely love each other, and how we make each other's lives so much better. Well, for sure Arjen makes my life a million times happier and brighter. Do you have any friends like that? You know, the kind of friend with whom you feel so well, share tastes, someone with a like mind, and with whom suddenly you have the absolutely best ideas in the planet? Well, that is Arjen for me.

So, Arjen and I were talking about how long it takes for a parcel or a letter to fly between Costa Rica and Belgium, mostly because both of us sent out our letters pretty much at the same time. Let me explain this quickly for you: I actually wrote to Arjen sometime in Spring. She got the letter and was sending me her reply. However, life has happened and with all the things in my life (thesis, friends gone, friends found, etc.), I HAD to talk to her. Sure, I could have sent an e-mail or chat her up on WhatsApp as we often do, but these things needed the long winding quality only handwritten letters can provide. On the light of this, I sent her what we call now "Letter Volume II: The Second Installment". I can't wait for her to get the letter! I even sent it with the courier service because: 1. it is faster, 2. it wasn't that much more expensive than the normal version, and 3. it comes in an uglyu plastic bag that will at least save the letter from water damage.

Source:  Fendrihan Canada

She showed me then a notebook she's going to use for a Bullet Journal Workshop she's taking. Oh my! I was so envious! :-) Can't wait to see the end result of it. That brought me to remember the A5 dotted, copper Leuchturm 1917 notebooks we've bought last year in Budapest. I remember that day with such joy! It was December 2017, and the both of us went to the 11th district looking for a paper store called "Fiók". It seemed like we would not find it in time, but then we did, and when we went into it, there they were, the beautiful Leuchturm 1917, hardcover notebooks! By then I had been on the hunt of A5 blank, lined or grid copper notebooks, but never found one. I didn't even think much, just grabbed the notebook.

Though normally I prefer blank pages for my journal, somehow I wanted this book to be more of a bullet journal (ain't gonna happen), and for that I wanted dotted pages. Arjen decided she wanted one too, and she also got the A5, dotted copper notebook. After that we were taken by the copper love and grabbed copper metallic Sharpies and other coppery washi tape.

Source: Pen Heaven

By the begining of the year she was already bullet-journaling in her copper notebook, while I was pondering what should I do with mine. I mean, I bullet-journal, but I do so in my A5 Malden filofax. In other words, my prized copper Leuchturm was an impulsive purchase I had acquired for the visual pleasure of its supple aesthetics. Then it went into my trunk, which is being currently heavily guarded by all the books I've bought since June... that no longer have a place in my bookshelf. (This is the reason why I'm posting pictures from google rather than pictures of my own blank notebooks). For my regular journaling, I've been using lately books from BomoArt. These books have blank pages and the paper is thick enough to handle fountain pens, which is what I use for... anything that has to do with handwriting.

In this same trip I was refering previously, Arjen and I went to Bomo Art in Budapest, in the Régi Posta utca, close to Váci utca, and I've bought that would have been my next journal. 

Property of Stormberry

Would have been? Yes. I had planned to use the latest Bomo Art book as my next journal, but after yesterday, we decided to return to our A5 coppers. You see, while talking about the paper world, Arjen mentioned that she had abandoned her copper Leuchturm. I'm myself on the last pages of my current journal, so the next logical idea came to mind: we should retake our copper Leuchturms at the same time! Isn't that the most fabulous and totally Super Best Friend thing in the world?

Since the journal is copper colored, and I have some copper washi, I thought it would be cool to use it with copper ink. Yeah, it would be cool... if there were copper ink. Now Arjen and I are on hot pursuit of cooper ink. The closest we've found is a Diamine Caramel Sparkle she has spotted. The closest I currently have is a Pelikan 4001 brilliant brown.

I know, who would have thought that the world of pen and paper could be so complicated?

Thoughts and Updates

Source: Pinterest.com

In recent days I've been floating in a sort of haze. First of all, allow me to update you in matters of which I've posted previously. So, how did it go with the defense of my thesis? Swimingly. :-) I'm proud to tell y'all, that not only did I made it, but I gotten the rare honor of scoring a perfect grade: 10 out of 10. This is so rare, that my thesis director (we call it "tutor"), told me he hadn't seen one such case in his two years of experience. This is my third degree, and one could say it is my third thesis (if we don't take in account the fact that I had to write two with my team for the Accounting degree, in which case this would be my fourth thesis), and this is the first time I get a 10 out of 10.

As you remember, I was freaking out the week before the defense, and I mean fucking-freaking-out. I was obssessed with the timing of my presentation, that juts didn't want to go under 25 minutes. The topic was one I know thanks to my job and the involvement I've had with it since it became an issue in our industry. Just to put you in context (quickly and easily, I promise!), my thesis was about the impact of the LRIC costing model applied by the Costa Rican Telecom Regulator (SUTEL) on the capability of Dominant Operators to generate profit. In plain English, if the rules applied by the Government (throught the SUTEL) allowed companies considered big to make money. 

I took three days of vacations to prepare for the defense (the day of the defense and two days ahead of it), and so I went on and on and on, mixing down time and reading (novels) with rehearsal. I wanted to be rested and relaxed to be in peak conditions, but my brain would not stop. During my morning exercise routines, as well as I was walking around the city running my errands, I went on talking to myself, repeating over and over my presentation. Each of the 32 slides were etched in my inside of my eyelids, and so constantly I invoked them in my head in order while I repeated the loosely scripted speech I planned to give. Time and again I had to cut here and there, calming the protesting voices inside me with "Look, if they really want to know, they will ask, and if they do - fuck - give'em all".

Source: Pinterest

The day of the presentation I trusted myself to my gods - Minerva, Mercury and Neptune - and drove to meet my Fates. There were more people than I had initially expected, among them a professor who had been my detractor previously. I've got a little more nervous because of that, mainly because I didn't want to be rude, and I wasn't sure how to properly explain the things he had objected previously without sounding like I was ridiculing him for not noticing. Yes, diplomacy is definitively not my strong suit.

When the defense began my voice trembled and broke, and I've got tongue tied with easy words like "market" and "telecommunications", but I kept pushing on. I had this by heart. The one professor I had invited to be my supporting audience was left out, but my thesis director was there and smiled at me encouragingly. Then I loosened up, and soon switched into a different mode. I was looking at my audience in the eyes, talking to them vehemently, the same way I would at work, because I felt like I was at work, in a meeting trying to make understand a mixed audience about the importance of my work and why it must be supported and brought to the Regulator. I passed from slide to slide, but I wasn't looking at the slides. Those were aid for my audience if they didn't get what I was telling them. Each slide offered a simple scheme of what I was telling them. Imagine it like an economist, defending a Finance project to financists while using the subtle art of Marketing to attack them on all fronts (auditive and visual) so that they would open up to my message. And it worked.

I was within the timeframe alloted to me, and when the questions came, I used emotion to spice my words. My topic was about Regulators and big telecom companies, but with words I landed my issues into their pockets. I rose their spirits, made them feel like the company I was representing was theirs and that they had to defend it whatever the cost. I made them feel aggravated and ready to jump, because what I was denouncing felt to them like a personal blow. I owned them and their hearts.

When it came to an end, I felt like crying. The professors applauded and smiled so bright, I felt in a dream. One of the coordinators present at the defense asked me little after the end of the process, if she could give my work to a colleague that works at a higher Regulator body. She explained that she had commented my work with him and he wanted to read it. Oh goodness! By all means!

I stayed around because I planned to stay for the defense of my classmates (that was in the afternoon, while I defended in the morning), so as I met with professors from my other careers (Accounting and Marketing), and all of them were told of my results, soon started encouraging me to submit my curriculum vitae so I could start teaching.

I met then - almost by accident - with an old classmate of mine, from my days as an economics student. I knew he worked there, and I had intended on inviting him, but somehow it had escaped my mind, and when I remembered that I would have loved having him there, it was too late and felt improper. I still was happy to see him. For sake of simplicity, lets call him Friedrich, in honor of Friedrich Engels.

Friedrich and I have had always an uneasy sort of relationship. Back in Economics, we were mostly classmates, but he wasn't really in any of my circles. He wasn't someone I would have called "a friend", but not an outright rival either. I don't think I had ever smiled at him in those days, and though we talked here and there - and when we did our conversations were long - there wasn't an easy environment. As I cast my mind back to those days, perhaps I could describe my feelings there best as "predatorial", or maybe "on guard". I was on the lookout for him, watching him, measuring him, cataloguing his comments and running my minds about meanings and counter messages. I do know we had played poker together and he improved my poker education, which by then had some grounding on what I had learned in Hungary from my Kenian and Jordanian friends.

Those years ended in silence, as we had a fall off. Actually, I don't remember much (and I haven't actively sought my journals of that time to find out what had I recorded of the incident), but Friedrich said I've got mad because he forgot to come to a meeting we had arranged to work on a project. Curiously, I have one image in my head, of him looking at me with so much hatred and anger as I have never seen on him, while I just wondered what the hell was happening. Be it as it may, we definitively fell out with each other by the last years of our career.

We met again when my team and I defended our first Accounting thesis (the program required us to work in teams and prepare one thesis in Accounting and another in Auditig). That first time, after over fifteen years, I remember he walked out into the hall were we waited and didn't see me. Having all tense feeling fled from me since then, and having recognized him, I called him. He turned and froze. To this day I remember him there, in the hallway, frozen as he saw me. His beautiful green eyes had widened, but not a muscle moved in his body, halted by what looked like paralizing fear. I smiled and came closer, but dread came into my soul as I searched my faulty memory for whatever sign of damage, anger, violence or any other type of bullying I may have inflicted upon him.

There is one thing I said to him, etched in fire in my mind, so poisonous and unsensitive, which filled me with such unadulterated, pure hatred it had fed me and made me smile in my youth. Then and today, it makes me feel bad, and incites in me the need to atone.

He recovered his composture, and then little after invited me to his office, where we talked. If my mind serves me well, I think I then apologized for that awful incident and all other insults I may have hurled at him in our youth. From then on we kept a loose e-mail contact,  based mainly on the discussion of some economical topics.

Back to the day of the defense, I found myself apologizing again for not inviting him. I made my apology short and to the point. There was no need to tell him how much I regretted it, and how I would have love to have his familiar face and his luminous eyes supporting me when I needed courage. Funny how the world turns, right? The one I was distrusting about was the one I would have loved to hold my hand and tell me that all would be well. Then, for the first time ever, he embraced me.

No, let me put this clearly. Though we've had hugged before, as a usual form of greeting, this time around his embrace had an entirely different quality. More than friendly, his embrace was warm, sustained and felt like a pull into the heart. I've mused much over this touching embrace and the one way I can describe it best is to compare it to the longing embrace you would give to a book you've thought long lost, and which suddenly comes back to you again. A lost little treasure. That's how he made me feel, like he was happy to find me again. That warmed my soul. We talked and agreed to meet for lunch in the week. Through out that meeting and the subsequent lunch, I caught him staring at me, those glass clear green depths fixed on my features, past my skull, as if searching for something beneath my skin. His gaze held long at time, and I had no idea of their intention. On any other person I would have thought they held the questing look of someone trying to build up courage for a move, but given our current circumstances and our raw, charged past, I would put such considerations far from him.

Our correspondence seems to have taken again the old, paused pace we have kept for a couple of years now, but that has not diminished the green flame in my solar plexus. I'd like to reach out and grab into his wrist, wrap my fingers securely around it and hold like Grettel would into the hand of her brother. I think I would like to have him in my life, like a sort of another brother with whom one could be silly, goofy, and sneak out to gorge on chocolate while talking about economics.

A Week of Tests

Wow, I'm nervous! This week is going to be a big week for me. It's funny how I feel like I want to write, but I also don't want to be typing, but then I need to write too. Do you get it? Neither do I. So, what is happening this week? First of all, today I have the second test of my B2C course of German. I'm one course away from completing the B2 level, which would mean that my language skills (in German) should be pretty much near advanced. I don't feel it.

I had a previous test in this same course, for which I didn't study - this is what I do in order to measure how much I actually do know, under regular circumstances - and it went well, though I have no idea whatsoever how did I manage to do that. This time? Yeah, I studied. Hopefully it will go well.

However my nerves today are not entirely due to this test, but to what's in store for me on Friday: the defense of my third thesis, this time in Finance. At this point, the usual helping lines don't work for me. "Remember that you are the expert, you are the one who knows this", "You already have the largest and most difficult part done, this is just presenting it", "People hardly ever flunk their defense, that's what all the preparation and filters before hand are for". Dude, this is my THIRD thesis, I know this and I have already heard all these comforting words. That's not my concern. My concern is that I'm prone to forget things, AND I have a very limited amount of time. I have 25 minutes. What can be said in 25 minutes!? Well, I tell you what: the bare bones. 

Source: Property of Stormberry

My topic is really complicated, so I feel that in 25 minutes I'll leave the tribunal examining me more confused than even before I start (though they are supposed to have read the thesis before hand), so I don't know if they will even have an idea of what to ask. No, that's not a good thing: the thesis must be clear, and I want them to understand what I am proposing with my thesis.

The first time I made my presentation at a pre-defense, I was 10 minutes ABOVE the allowed time frame, so though the presentation itself was ok, I needed to improve that. It wasn't so bad, as only one of the other three classmate presenting was under the timeframe, and the rest were well above my surplus, with one lady going over 40 minutes. That is 40 in excess over the 25 alotted. Compared to that, I didn't do so badly, don't you think? :-)

Yesterday I did my first trial after the pre-defense, and I was again at 35 minutes total (10 minutes in excess). Considering that I had to add one slide to my presentation, I actually saw it as an improvement. What I did then was trim the presentation by scripting it, so I would give myself clear talking points, and try not to deviate from it. My thinking was: "I won't explain now. If they don't understand, they can ask me later".

Today I gave it another try. I must admit that I had to stop my temporizer several times in order to remember some parts, which I hope to have completely nailed down for Friday, and then I also was stopping at my 5 minute marks to make sure I make the notations on my slideshows so that the next time I know where am I. The result? Currently I'm only 2,5 minutes over my timeframe. :-) Hey, I'm improving! :-D

I have taken tomorrow and the two next days off, so I can prepare myself peacefully for this defense. Wish me luck! 💚🍀

Things That Tilt My Head

Originally I was thinking about sharing my two cents on the topic of vaccines and the so-called anti-vaxxers, but then I decided to go personal again and share instead a tidbit about my life and the things that happen in it. Ain't like I'm an expert on vaccines anyway, nor do you read me for it, right? Well, if you read me, which aparently you do. And why there are so many people from Russia reading me? "Drugi", you have the wrong person. I'm not based in the USA, I do not represent their thinking, and I don't think I can give you any information for anything you may need. But that's beyond the point.

So, the thing is that at my job you can - technically - request a differenciated workschedule called "flexible schedule". This basically means that you request starting your workday at a different time, and so end it at a different time. You still put in the same 9:36 hours, but instead of doing it in the regular schedule (from 7:00h to 16:36h), you can start at 6:00h, 6:30h, or 7:30h. In our group only two people held that schedule, because our boss basically doesn't like it when people don't stay at the office all the way until 16:36h. Many years ago I had the 6:00-to-15:36 schedule, but they I had some moves in the company and was moved back to the 7:00-to-16:36.

The two people who have the flexible schedules - lets call them Ally and Ben - Ally has a schedule from 6:30-to-16:00, while Ben had the 6:00-to-15:36 schedule. Since I was on the 7:00-to-16:36, I noticed that each time the boss wasn't around, both Ally and Ben were leaving the office at 15:00, and sometimes even earlier. This has been going on for years. Now, this story is about Ben, so let's concentrate on him, shall we?

There are no particular reasons why Ben "should have a claim" to get the flexible schedule above other coworkers, so it was taken like, you know, he asked for it first or something. He does have elderly parents and one of them has dementia, so they have to take care of them and all that. But as far as I know, Ben has four older kids that don't work, a housewife wife and around seven siblings. Anyway, aparently, he gets the schedule and the "special treatment" because of his ailing relative. In this my general attitude is: "Not my circus, not my monkeys".

Ben and I had a fallout sometime by the end of last year, which has been so good to me. You see, Ben is the kind of person that's always on the lookout to get things out of others. Free rides, free meals, free snacks... it doesn't matter what it is, if he can get it for free, he will get it. He even goes as far as ask you for free stuff if you have once shared something with him. Let me give you an example: say one day you make too much coffee for yourself (I brew my own coffee in a French Press. Our group has a "coffee comitee", but there had been so much drama in it (involving Ben), that I rather not get myself into that and make my own coffee), so you offer it TO THE GROUP, if anyone wants the extra cup you made. Ben offers to take it. Then, the next day, Ben will tell you that your coffee was really, good, so would you please make an extra cup again for him? So yes, that's Ben.

The fallout was inconsecuential, really, basically about some tought times we were having at the office. I was dealing with it by keeping to myself, but he was dealing by wallowing in everybody's mysery. He wanted me to share and tell him how awful I felt, and would not take my no for an answer.  When I finally raised my voice and told him to fuck the fuck off, he took offense and stopped talking to me ever since. It was divine. He never again came begging for food or any other thing.

Source: Google.com
Goethe Zentrum

So, the thing is that, as you know, I'm taking German lessons after work. Not everyday, but still. I was going to one of the languages centers Goethe Institute has here, for about two years, with a rather convenient schedule. Then, for this period I had to switch centers (still with the Goethe!) and that meant not only a different schedule, but a longer conmute time. In the light of that, I talked to my boss and explained him that I needed the flexible schedule, specifically the 6:00-to-15:36 one. While the schedule change was approved (it's approved by semester), I asked him permission to leave early the days I had classes.

I didn't mean to, but I overheard when my boss told Ben that he would have to take the 6:30-to-16:00 schedule (the same Ally has), because he was giving me the 6:00-to-15:36 one. No, so far I know, there's no rule forbidding more than one person from having the same schedule, as it is proven now by Ally and Ben having the same schedule. He simply accepted. To be honest, this got me thinking that my boss wasn't buying that story of him having to tend to his ailing relative.

Anyway, comes the new semester, and I still have to wait for my schedule switch to be approved (it was being handled like a new request), and Ben is already in his 6:30-to-16:00, when out of the blue he comes to talk to me, like we are intimate or something, and asks me if I could GIVE HIM three of my five days with the 6:00-to-15:36 schedule, because it ain't like I need them anyway, only one or two days for classes. He claimed he talked about it with the boss, and it was the boss that told him to ask me for the switch. Allegedly, he needed to be home early to put his ailing relative in bed, and this relative needed to be in bed by 16:00, so all the cleaning and tending had to happen earlier. (Conmute to where we live takes around 35 minutes in the afternoon...)

I was inclined - out of the hardly ever seen goodness of my heart, to give him one, max two days of my schedule, out of consideration for his family, which he seemed to resent because he wanted three days... but would take anything. I did had a nagging feeling, so I consulted with friends, and it turns out we could not swap schedules, or we risked having them taken away. I told him so the next day, and that he should be careful (aiming at his routinely escapades). He played the victim and then proceeded to lie in my face about how he was so hard working, and he always stayed longer, and maybe even leaving the office 5 minutes early. Like I have never seen him leave an hour before he should. Like I have not been a witness to him never making it to his actual end-of-workday hour.

It seems that he whined to the boss, so the next semester I'll get the 6:30-to-16:00 and he gets the 6:00-to-15:36, which is no biggie for me, because then again I'll ask weekly permits to attend classes, if I have to. However, after this I have found myself paying attention to Ben, to what he does, and I've realized that - for someone so devoted to his family that he needs a special schedule to attend them - he spends way too much time on the phone tending other personal businesses, pertaining to some lawsuits, car sales, property sales and other business making, that have nothing to do with taking care of a person with dementia, nor what he has been hired here to do. And he isn't even being subtle about it. As compensation for having his "rightful schedule" taken away, he has been taken to resource to more permits, and what appears to be bogus meetings outside the building, in order to cover up for leaving home early - tricks he has learned with Ally.

I mind my own business - circus, monkeys and all that - but really, Ben's behavior is as subtle as a tarantula on a while wall. This makes me wonder why did he even bother bitching about the schedule when he's not going to change his behavior and will keep escaping from the office earlier. When it has become clear that the boss isn't buying his story about the doting son.

This is when I wonder if shamelessness really knows no limits.

Blessed Litha!

It's that time of the year again, when we celebrate another turn of the Wheel of the Year, and honor another Sabbath. "Sabbath": I have some issues with that word, don't you? I've seen is spelled as "sabbath", "sabat", "sabbatt"... I'm choosing to use "sabbath" because that's how I've seen it mostly spelled in my witchy books, but hey, if I'm mistaken, please let me know. But back to the topic :-D.

Source: WiccaSpain RITUALES
Found through Google.com

Today we celebrate Litha or Midsummer or Summer Solstice. You want to know something funny? Well, you know I have a Book of Shadows, right? Well, mine is a... practice-Book of Shadows because I started it when I wasn't entirely sure I would go Pagan. As result, my circle casting spell has Christian references, which I have striken out by now. The point is, in my Book of Shadows I separated pages for each sabbath, with the intention of writing something about each and my experience with it in time. If you were to flip through those pages (which you will never do, because, you know, Books of Shadows are personal), you'll find that I actually have "a lot" written and prepared for Imbolc and maybe for Ostara, but not for the rest of the sabbaths. My section on Litha is quite... empty. Yeah, that might reflect also in the kind of Pagan I am: one that starts the year really dedicated, and then ends it up with the general "let's just see what comes out of it" attitude. Hey, it's not only the generic Christians that do that! Pagans are people too, and yes, we can be lazy people too. Deal with it.

One thing I totally love about being Pagan is the freedom I have to live my spiritual path. No third parties preaching about what constitutes a good Pagan or a bad Pagan, what should you observe and avoid and so on. With no set book of instructions, I am free to follow my heart there whereit would lead me. As result, as I do my research - lazy or not, this witch loves reasearch, even though she may not dutifully write it down in her Book of Shadows, mind you - I can check on different experiences, different suggestions and then pick and choose my rituals.

In previous years I have reflected upon the sabbaths as milestones in a project. I believe I have post in this blog that reflect this thinking. Was it 2015, maybe? (Perhaps I should go back on them and copy those posts out into my Book of Shadows...) Though this leading idea remains in my rituals, for this year I was seeking to complete better my notes, and so I started researching on two lines: one, I wanted to get more information on elements traditional for Litha, particularly food types (in this sense, I'm so much more prepared for the Three Harvests, Yule, Imbolc and Ostara), and also getting more information on one of my gods, Mercury.

Source: Google.com

For the first part I roamed aimlessly here and there, and found information about using fresh garden produce, like veggies and fruits. Do I have the links, you'd ask? Nah, this witch FORGOT about writing those down. I tried to re-google it, but when has that ever worked? I know, I know. Anyways, now the thought is in my head, to use fresh fruits. That will be fun, because I thought of berries, so I'll sure will seek for strawberries, maybe some physallis and cherries. I think I may get a small cherry-pie or a strawberry cheesecake for tonight's ritual's cake. No information on particular drinks, BUT a kriek might be a good idea, wouldn't you agree? Ah, don't you love being Pagan? I sure do! :-D

In another site I found but can't reference because I forgot to save it, I read that Litha was a great time to reinforce your Path and reflect upon it. Also it's a great time to renew your bond with your gods. Aha! Great, I thought, because I was already thinking about researching more about Mercury!

Regarding my gods, I have gone through many sites and checked information (and saved other for later, though I don't exactly remember where I saved it?) as part of my exercise to get to know better the different faces and sides of the Divine. You may know this already, but I connect particularly with three gods: Minerva, Mercury and Neptune. Normally, in the Wiccan tradition, people tend to have a God and a Goddess. I am not wiccan, but I relay heavily on their guidance to go around walking my path. Think of it this way: I do my thing, but when in doubt I check with Wicca for ideas. Not to mention that, honestly, most of the available bibliography out there is Wiccan, so yes, this lovely religion is a fantastic support for all of us. Anyway, in my heart I have felt a connection with these three for a while, so I relate to them as my mean or leading or patron gods. However, how much I know about them? Not much.

Curiously, with Minerva and Neptune I also tend to relate to their greek counterparts (Athena and Poseidon), but not with Mercury. Also, with Minerva and Neptune, I'm clear about their symbols regarding animal figures I can use to represent them in my altar settings or generally in my home, but I've no such representation of Mercury, which is what spurred this quest. In this sense I have not found (so far) any clear indication of Mercury favoring a particular animal, such as Minerva has the owl and Neptune has the dolphins, but I have been reading more and more about him and find it curious how my life path has followed so closely on his realm. Exchange, language, commerce, Mercury is fascinating!

So, on this sabbath, I will take a moment to meditate and share some thoughts about the gods and with a special mention of Mercury, one of my patrons.

How will you spend your sabbath?

Filofax Size

Browing through Philofaxy's posts through my Blogger Reading list (I totally love that feature), I've found a post about the benefits of an A4 sized filofax. Lets all take a second to imagine that. Yeah, that ain't not going to happen to me. 

My Filofax Journey

My first filofax: a Personal size Sketch in Chocolate
property of Stormberry.

In previous posts - if you dig long enough - you might get to the process I went through to pick the right filofax for me. After years of using regular planners (one book per year) and getting tired of copying each year the back of it (addresses and such), I decided that I had to move into a filofax, a planner system that I have loved and longed for years and years before I had one, even before I knew of the brand!

Before my current filofax I had two filofaxes, both of them from the more budget oriented lines and both in Personal size (I'm referencing here posts of Philofaxy that can help you picture sizes or understand specifications). 

The first filofax I had was the most beautiful one I ever had. It was a Sketch, which one elasticized penloop, and a handy back pocket in the outside of the back flap. The color was also rich and amazing. Sadly, however, the clasp of it broke at the root quite fast, which meant that after one year I had to replace it. FilofaxUSA, from where I bought it, couldn't replace it to me (unless I went with a burgundy planner, not my beloved Chocolate), so yes, I had to file away this one and go for a new binder.

My first layout
property of Stormberry

One thing worth noting was that when I've got this planner, I had bought a Day-per-Page insert that I ended up not using because I had not enough space to put it in AND add all the sections I wanted to include. After using an A5 planner book with Day-per-Page (or PPD, Page per Day) setting, moving into a smaller size with a Week-on-two-Pages layout was hard.

It took time but I've got used to it, so when it came the time to replace the binder, I had found my way around the Personal size, and so my second binder - an Identity, purchased from filofax.com, the UK site - I choose it again on that size.

Identity
property of Stormberry

This second one was functional, cushy and nice. I loved that it had two elasticized penloop, but if I must be honest, it wasn't as pretty in my eyes as my Sketch. It was sturdy, though, and it took a lot of tear and wear, and lasted me for around three years, and held up quite well.

It was in this planner that I started doing my first inserts and settled more into what I really want and need from a planner. I also realized that there were things I really disliked, like the need to CUT paper to size, or buy expensive filofax blank paper to print my inserts on it, and PRAY the printer wouldn't eat the pages, because they took time and costed more than what I was comfortable wasting. But lived with it and learned to go around it... including adding pages for keeping data and origami-ing it into a fitting size.

All was good with Identity until it started showing serious signs of wear. It would have not bothered me so much except that the cardboard that fills the binder started showing and the cover's plastic covering peeled off showing the white stuff under it. Yep, it's made of some sort of vinyl.

So I went again on a quest for a new planner. I started flirting with the idea of getting a Malden, because I decided I wanted something more durable, but that aged well and took nicely to signs od wear, and what better to that than leather? I'm not an excesively careful user, and I don't really like the pristine look of some things. So, I wanted leather. I'm still wasn't entirely sold on Malden, until I visited a friend in Germany and she showed me her (many) Maldens. I pondered it, caressed it, thought about it, and when I was on the verge of going for a Personal Malden, she asked me:

"Why don't you go for an A5?"

A5 Malden. Layout: Bullet Journal
property of Stormberry

The idea was preposterous because it was so big! But then, as I handled it, it seemed perfect. So after some lenghty thought, I went for the A5 Ochre filofax Malden. When I received it, the first thing I though was:

"Fuck, this is BIGGER than I thought!"

I had to adjust, but I was quickly in love with the space it gave me. Also, the absolute flexibility of having it easier with the paper as I only have to fold A4 pages in half, but even if I go with a half Letter sized page I can make do. Maybe filofax doesn't have many inserts for it, but other brands cater a wide arrange of it. Also, who needs inserts when you can easily repurpose reused pages, stationery and so on? At work and at school, I found it much easier to fold leaflets in half and keep them there, clip them to the page of day when I would need them and so on. Much, much easier than with a Personal sized planner.

Current Observations of Size

This year - after about two years in my Malden - I decided forgo the inserts and instead cut in half a bunch of leftover grid pages of the kind I use to study, and go #bulletjournaling. This year I haven't spent a dime on inserts and I'm happy like a clam. :-D

However, an A5 has a disadvantage: it's heavy. Not only I had to rethink my bags and purses because many no longer fit my planner, but the weight of it is significant. Yesterday I went to German classes and I bag was very heavy. When I travel, my backpack - which normally include my planner, my laptop, liquids, cosmetic bag, my Kindle (I try and make sure to finish my paper books before a trip, but if I must travel with a paper book, that goes into my hand luggage), and a tin box with phone cables, earbuds and a power bank, and an external memory. Last time I weighed this, it was 9 Kg.

On daily basis I don't carry my laptop, but I do carry paper books and other knickknacks, so my bag normally weights around 7 Kg. It has always been heavy, but with my big filofax, it is now really heavy. So, when I consider the comfort I already get from this size, and the weight it puts on my shoulders, I really don't see the point of a larger size. If you think you need a planner that large, you may also have to carry a whole range of other things, and that means it will add even more weight than the A5.

I can imagine the A4 a size suitable more for a project binder or a work binder, where you keep spreads, notes and such, but not like an organizer. As a teacher, or a professor, it could work wonderfully to keep in class lists, plans and grades, carry graded papers and exams, along with notes for the class and such, but for a planner it is - in my view - somewhat excesive.

Then again, for a binder, it is quite expensive. Do you need it really?

:: as I composed this post, I listened to: Radio Köln.::