El Viejazo

Síntoma del Viejazo # 1
(11 de septiembre, 11:11 am)

• Creer que se tiene la habilidad de levantar la mesita para aspirar abajo, y en el proceso tirar todo lo que esta arriba de la mesita y además de todo azotar. 

Síntoma del Viejazo # 2
(14 de octubre,  1:21 pm)

• Darte cuenta de que ya no te acuerdas de la dosis necesaria de un analgésico común.

Síntoma del Viejazo # 3
(14 de octubre, 3 minutos después)

• Repentinamente darte cuenta de que ya no te alcanza el brazo para sostener la botellita del analgésico común lo suficientemente lejos de tus ojos para poder leer la dosis que debes tomarte.

Síntoma del Viejazo # 4
(14 de octubre, 6 minutos después)

• No acordarte de donde pusiste los lentes necesarios para leer la dosis del analgésico común sin incurrir en la dislocación del hombro.

Síntoma del Viejazo # 5
(21 de octubre, 9:11 am)

• Esperar con emoción a que llegue tu hijo adolescente para contarle una novedad y que te informe que eso ya se lo has dicho como tres veces. (Chale, este en particular, duele!)

Tale of the elusive Mini Schnauzer

9:15 am, dogs barking like crazy. Curious as I am, go look through the window. SURPRISE! A fugitive Mini Schnauzer, giving his feet some crazy workout.

9:20 am, tried to catch him with my charming skills... (NOTE TO SELF: Charming useless)

9:25 am, tried to bribe dog with some food, squatting to attract him, imagining myself not being able to move tomorrow. Endeavour ineffective. Knees creaking, I suppress a scream of pain.

9:35 am, improvised a toy with a lemon, throwing it like a toy ball, making kissing sounds saying "good booOOooyyyy" while running back and forth, trying to get him involved in fun game...Neighbors perceive me as a crazy lady, efforts towards catching dog: futile.

9:50 am, I pray in silence. Oh! an idea! or is it a voice?: "if you bring him, he will come", so I come home, get Luigi. Fugitive mini comes IMMEDIATELY. Follows us into back yard.

9:55 am, it takes a couple of tries, but I got him! NAME: GODFREY. tags have phone number. YAAAAYYY!

10:00 am: Bring dog home so I can call owner. MAYHEM! Schnauzer legs up and down furniture, leashes tangled, eyes can't tell who's who, throw blankets flying around! remotes dropped! bark! yelp! more barks! growls! My leader of the pack voices says firmly: STOP! It works (HA!)

10:05 am, call owner. ASKS for me to drop the Godfrey! (Whaaaatt????)

10:15 am, I deliver Godfrey to his owners.

10:25 am, back home. 

Workout, CHECK!!!!

Anécdotas del MiniSchnauzer escurridizo

‎9:15 am, mis perros ladrando como locos. Yo, curiosa, investigo asomandome por la ventana. SORPRESA! Un mini schnauzer fugitivo caminando por doquier como loco.

9:20 am, trato de atraparlo con mis encantos… (NOTA MENTAL: mis encantos no sirven)

9:25 am, trato sobornar al fugitive con trozos de comida, en cuclillas para que se acerque sin asustarse, imagino que mañana no me voy a poder ni mover. Esfuerzos infructuosos. Las rodillas rechinan, sofoco un grito de dolor.

9:35 am, encuentro un limón bajo el árbol de un vecino; improviso un juguete, usándolo como una pelota. Hago sonidos de besitos mientras digo “good boooOOOOoooyyyy” y corro para allá y para acá, tratando de atraerlo en un juego divertido… los vecinos ahora me perciben como la mujer loca; en vano continuo mis afanes.

9:50 am, Elevo una oración en silencio… llega una idea (o es una voz?) “si lo traes, él vendrá!”. Vengo a casa por Luigi. El mini fugitivo nos ve y se acerca inmediatamente. Nos sigue hacia el jardín.

9:55 am, un par de intentos y finalmente lo capturé! Su placa tiene nombre: GODFREY. Tambien encuentro un número de teléfono! Yaaayyy!!!

10:00 am: Traigo a Godfrey a la casa para llamar a su dueño. VAYA CATASTROFE! Patas de Schnauzer para arriba y para abajo de los muebles, correas que se enredan, mis ojos no pueden saber quién es quién, las cobijas sobre los sillones vuelan por todos lados, los controles caen por allá! Ladridos, chillidos! Mas ladridos! Refunfuños! Con mi voz poderosa de lider, digo firmemente: ALTO! (Huh! Funciona!)

10:05 am, llamo al dueño. Me pide que le lleve a Godfrey! (ejem... [perdón????)

10:15 am, Llevo a Godfrey a sus dueños.

10:25 am, Regreso a casa.

Ejercicio del día… LISTO!

Have you seen an Angel?

Most of the people that live around me, have... but they might not know it. Well, here I am, to open your eyes.

This is my friend Lisa:

Wednesday: we have a gas leak. Gas is turned off in the whole property, for safety. Within a half an hour, she's here with a HUGE crockpot and a hot plate. Thanks to her, we have had warm meals in my house, and food is not going to waste. Plus her hubby, Wayne, is here to check on the situation and give us the best advice, even talks to the PG&E man!

Thursday: Our washing machine dies. She takes our dirty laundry, takes care of it, EVEN when her own machine is broken... she doesn't tell me she'll take it to the laundromat!

Saturday Evening: There's this dinner I have to go and I'm nervous, I've been stressed and I don't feel my best. My friend makes sure I sit with people that I know and that they know I'm uncomfortable, so she sets me up for an enjoyable time.

Saturday - at night: The transformer in our street goes boom! there's a blackout. Now we have no gas, no washing machine, no electricity... I feel deflated. Middle of the night? no problem! My friend is here to pick up the laundry, and sits down to talk to me, help me recover sanity, and make me laugh.

Sunday - All clothes washed --AND BEAUTIFULLY FOLDED!! clothes are back. Am I still a bit down? She's added a great load of cinnamon rolls to the delivery.

I want to say that this is one of those times that saying you appreciate someone is not enough. This is one of those cases when you know that your life would not be the same if you hadn't met that person.


Really. REALLY. Thank you my Friend! I have seen an Angel!!!!!!

There's no need to fear! Luigi is here!

Luigi can’t talk. But he communicates… better than anyone I have ever known in my entire life.

He is direct, to the point. He doesn’t mind asking, requesting, or even begging. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he lets it go and never holds it against you. Sometimes though, he demands. He usually demands to be hugged indefinitely; he loves to cuddle up and feel that unique and marvelous warmth that just the close contact with another body can give.

He is authentic and assertive. He doesn’t hide in passive aggressiveness or in complicated excuses for what the does or what he wants. He is truly free.

In silence he plays. He invites everyone to play. He doesn’t hold race, color or age against anybody.

His eyes melt every human barrier that I use to protect myself from the world, thus making me get in touch with my deepest feelings; he brings out my true soul. With him, you don’t have to put up an act; there’s no pretending. He knows the truth. He FEELS your truth. You don’t have to think about ways to hide anger or tears. There’s no need to try and look thinner or wear mascara or lipstick. He LOVES unconditionally. He provokes to be loved like that, too. There is not a more sincere “I” than when you are with him.

My wonderful thief of scrunchies and socks. Lover of cheese and peanut butter. I lived without you for so many years and yet, I can’t think of a life without you anymore.

How would I live without your tail wagging just because I look at you?

Teach me to find treasure in the smallest things; teach me to celebrate even the tiniest piece of a cracker. Teach me to wonder at every inch of lawn. Teach me to be happy even if somebody pulls my leash. Come on, Luigi… teach me to live, because I’m  40 and I forget...

Conversaciones con David - IV

Que dificil la adolescencia. Hoy, David se dio cuenta de lo horrible que es no saber ni que pex con uno mismo:

(David caminando con pisotones de elefante por doquier)
         YO: David, que te pasa?
         David: mmmmnnndda (traduccion: nada)
(Minutos pasan, los pisotones siguen)
         YO: Necesitas algo? te puedo ayudar?
         David: no.
(Por el abrir y cerrar de cajones, deduzco lo que pasa)
         YO: Buscas un lapiz?
         David: si.
         YO: Toma.
(Me siento con el y le pregunto)
         YO: Estas enojado?
         David: SSSIIIII
         YO: Por que?
         David: NO SEEEEE
         YO: No paso nada que te hubiera molestado?
         David: NO!
         YO: Ya mejor me callo?
         David: SI!
         YO: oooy, el primer enojo inexplicable de tu vida...
 (David me ve con cara de "what"?)
         YO: son los cambios, la adolescencia...

        David: AAASSHHH!!!

Who opened Pandora's box?

Mom wakes up. Early. Morning is chilly. Mom's happy. Makes breakfast. Packs lunch. Wakes up son.

Boy's hair looks like Tovio (*). Boy hates hair gel. Boy and mom wrestle for the application of gel on Tovio's hair.

Boy forgot to do his homework. Boy starts doing homework.
Keys: nowhere to be found.
Dog thinks  leash is item of play when it's leash or kennel... leash wins.

Driver's seat inexplicably all out of place, trying to click it right, but goes too far, too close, too far, too close... Mom's resigned to drive uncomfortably.

Carpool friend reminds boy of another homework he forgot. Spirits go down. Mother shouts: you can do it!

Boy writes in moving car. Dog cries because window cannot be open, since wind would mess with boy's homework AND tamed hair.

Mother parks car in front of school Boy continues homework. Finishes: 8:06. Four minutes to get guitars in music room and get to class on time...

(Sigh...)

Monday was chilly... but mother has got a heatstroke.
Mother... needs... Friday...

(*) Tovio- Real boy whose death inspired the creation of Astroboy.

Lenguaje Davidiano

El fin del pasado año escolar me trajo un regalo increíble: la maestra de "Language Arts" de David me dijo que había sido un placer tenerlo en la clase, especialmente porque decía cosas increíblemente chistosas que ella jamás se hubiera imaginado que un niño de su edad pudiera siquiera pensar. No me pudo decir cosas precisas porque en ese momento no recordaba ninguna, pero eran, según dijo, eran juegos de palabras.

Yo le platiqué algunas de sus aventuras lingüísticas, y entre risas, nos dimos cuenta que son los beneficios de ser bilingüe. Al aprender el Ingles a los 8 años, no solo se fue dando cuenta de la diferencia en la reconstrucción de oraciones e incluso de palabras, sino se fue haciendo consciente de la carga cultural de muchas expresiones, y su equivalente en el otro idioma; siendo quien es, no solo utiliza este conocimiento, sino que además juega con él (como con el caso del conocido "foodist", por ejemplo).

Hoy, mientras David decidía que hacia mucho frío para nadar y que probablemente le daría "penomia", me di cuenta de la contraparte de esta experiencia. Hay palabras que en su mente se fusionaron en una especie de "Spanglish Davidiano", sobre todo porque casi nunca las utiliza, como en este caso de Neumonía o Pneumonia... no se había enterado de que la "p" no se pronuncia, y en un intento de decirla mas facilmente el resultado fue "Penomia".

Otros casos han sido notorios en el transcurso de su vida. He podido ver que dice lo que quiere o necesita decir, aun cuando no conozca las formas correctas, como cuando tenía 1 año y medio y me dijo que le dolía "el cuello del pie", (tobillo). Del mismo periodo tenemos: "cuello de la mano", "me hace sed (calor, frío, hambre)", y "tengo tite" (estoy triste).

Y por supuesto que están los super adorables intentos de pronunciar palabras dificiles, como: "quichito" (chiquito) "lasicaturas" (las caricaturas), "mebuele" (me duele), "quelocalal" (quiero que me carguen),  "quelo yugu" (quiero jugo), "el velintilador" (el ventilador), diaerra" (diarrea),cualquier otra palabra que tuviera una b y una l juntas, como por ejemplo "bdlanco" por decir "blanco", o las que tienen la g y la r jungas, como el caso de "neguro" por decir "negro".

Muchas veces me pregunto que tiene la vida en reserva para David, sobre todo a lo que decidirá dedicarse. Constantemente le recordamos que elija una profesión que le apasione, para que el trabajo se convierta en gozo y no en esa cosa que te hace poner carota y te vuelve a empujar a la cama cuando piensas que ya te tienes que levantar.

Hoy me imaginé que tal vez su llamado sea lingüístico (cosa que me encantaría, porque la que mas lo disfrutaría sería yo); así que por si ese fuera el caso, quise escribir estas reflexiones, de manera que cuando decida que quiere ser maestro de Ingles o Español, escritor, traductor o cualquier cosa que se le parezca, tenga una referencia del origen de su decisión: un cuerpo con muchos cuellos, y que tiene un frío capaz de provocarle "penomia".

*COMENTARIOS QUE RECUERDAN OTROS DAVIDIANISMOS:

• Quelo Yugu
• El velintilador
• (Esperando mas recuerdos para plasmarlos aqui)

Harry Potter and the Half-Cut movie (Spoiler alert)

(From my blog: www.themightyv.blogspot.com)

I am very glad I am a reader. I get so much out of it. And today, it's a bitter-sweet feeling: I know the truth... and I have seen parts of it on a screen... and what I saw was made of beauty. The life given to the scenery and to some of the characters was sublime...

...But then there are the lies... some of them were unnecessary lies that don't have a logical reason;  some of them didn't really matter; and others were unfair lies, the kind of lies that you feel disrespect you.

Then, there is of course what is not a lie, but an absence of truth:   the once again shattered hope of watching some of the favorite scenes come to life, and the development of heartfelt characters to which one has become so attached they could actually feel like soul mates.

I say this understanding that movies made from books are not going to be just exactly like the book. I understand that time is an issue, and that unimportant events or details can't be crammed into a movie in the period it's been alloted.

Having said that, I want to ask WHY.
WHY would it be important to a screenwriter to change the characters?
Why should Tonks not find Harry in the train? Why would it have to be Luna? Why should Ginny help Harry find the place to hide his book? So that they can kiss? Well, that problem should be very easily solved by respecting the book and having them kiss when they actually do, after a Quidditch match. Time issue, maybe? AHA! Gotcha! if time is an issue then why make up a complete scene at the Burrow during Christmas? That was so weird!!!

These substitutions have made me frown before, when Dobbie was not given credit for finding the Room of Requirements in HP and the Order of the Phoenix, for example. But it became personal when Tonks is absolutely ignored and moved out of the way without the slightest touch of regard. I wanted to see her while she was dimming out of love and life force! Why? because I like Tonks!!! She's my favorite one from the Order!! Her hair is pink!!


Then there is the utter absence of important stuff... people... most of the book here is about Hoarcruxes and the memories about Tom Riddle that Dumbledore provides along with his own thoughts. A lot of understanding of Voldemort and his complexity has been just denied to the movie watchers. Not only that, but it is allowed to see a less intelligent Dumbledore when in the movie he admits to have had just a hint of the use of very scary dark magic in his mind to explain Voldemort and his deeds. Actually, Dumbledore already suspects about the Hoarcruxes and he only gets a confirmation from Slughorn's memory in the Pensieve. See... Dumbledore is not Dumb!!!

And where's the battle? I wanted to see them fight!  I wanted to have some deeper meaning to Dumbledore's death! I wanted to FEEL like somebody loved him and somebody cared enough to fight for him. I so much wanted to see Hagrid in action with his little pink umbrella! That's where I wanted to see Luna and Neville, where they belong: a part of Dumbledore's Army!!! I wanted to see Bill being comforted by his family and his bride to be after being bitten while fighting! Then I wanted everyone to get together for Dumbledore and grief for this humungous lose. And on a very personal note, I really wanted to see (and hear) the merepeople and Firenze, separated from the other centaurs, while they pay their respects. Heck, I wanted to pay my respects! I wanted a ceremony!!!

But when I just got offended (because everything before was just let go with a "well.... what am I gonna do, I'm not a moviemaker in any of its steps" ) was when Harry is left there just watching the bad guys get their way. They make Harry seem like a complete simpleton, walking around, looking up, watching Dumbledore face death and death eaters. I don't think there is a reason based on time, or creative license, or... actually, I can't seem to find a reason at all. In what way would it have hurt the movie to show a frustrated Harry, fighting under his Invisibility Cloak, unable to even let go of his pain by moaning when he sees his beloved mentor in such danger  because he, Dumbledore, had as the book says: "wordlessly immobilized Harry, and the second he had taken to perform the spell had cost him the chance of defending himself".  

I think there is no explanation for changing such an important detail, one that really shapes Harry's character and determination for the very important tasks that are coming to him. One that he will always remember, with fear, with grievance, with hatred and yet, with gratitude to the one that let him be safe.

It is also important because it's Dumbledore's last act. It's different to show a man try to convince a kid that he should die and he shouldn't do anything about it, than to show a man sacrificing his only chance of survival by simply not allowing the kid to do anything for him. I think this was in the story because it was important.

For me, there's really not joy in watching this. And I would actually like to flick someone in the eye for robbing me of it!!

Of course, there are the things that I liked.  I really appreciated Emma Watson's acting. It was a joy to see her being secretly in love! I definitely liked to see her growth as an actress. In previous movies I felt that she "barked" too much. Here, she gave her best performance. It was also great to see the difference between her true longing and suffering, and Lavender's infatuation.

I ABSOLUTELY enjoyed Ron. Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets when you see him first appear on the screen, all grown and buffed, and really, really cute!. Talk about eye candy!!! He's even eye hot fudge sunday!!! Then, he provides the best light action of the movie with his reactions under the spell of the love potion. Ha! funny. Kudos to Rupert Grint! I'm officially a fan!
It's was disappointing  that there was such a great build up in his character, just to be completely left out of the action during the last scene. Why make Ron silent?  That was sad.

Of course it was a relief for the soul to see Daniel Radcliffe again. I miss him every day until a new movie is released. I love Harry!!!

Luna and her lion hat would put a smile on almost everyone's face. The twins' store was vivid and much better than the images I had put in my head. I just wish this scene would have been a bit longer, just to get more of these Weasleys together, before they meet the gloom that is to come. The music as always was the already expected enhancer to each scene. Beautiful!!

All in all, I don't really regret watching the movie; I just won't be compelled to watch it again. I feel it's unfair. I'd much rather read the book, which is already worn in the corners, weak at the binding and marked in the favorite places... but full... oh, so full of truth!!!

I'm too glad to be a reader!

Asthma in the times of swine flu

Well!
I had a B-A-D cold one month and a half ago. All my family did, too. We all got better, but I got some allergy symptoms that didn't stop for the whole time. Then, two weeks ago, asthma symptoms, allergy induced asthma symptoms.

One week ago my doctor sent me a inhaler. I was happy,  because these asthma stuff happens to me once a year, at the onset of spring. So, I thought my problems were all gone and I was gonna get better.

The inhaler didn't help. On Monday night, it was very difficult to sleep, and I thought I was having a heart attack or something... very weird!. So, yesterday, I called the triage at Kaiser, and they were surprisingly worried. They sent me to the ER, and while I was waiting for Alfredo to get home so he could take me to the ER (it was recommended that someone took me, not to drive there alone) the nurse that took my phone call, called back to my home TWICE.  I was wishing she wouldn't because speaking really made my breathing really, really difficult, and it flared up my coughing.

So, we go to the ER, and it was JAMPACKED. Many people were wearing masks over their mouths and noses... I went to the registration, and amazingly, after swiping my card, they rushed me before other people, and I was seen by a RN right there. After that, and seeing that it was asthma but I was not about to drop dead there, they sent me to the waiting room.

And then, it hit me: I am Mexican, I am wheezing and I am coughing... in the middle of a crowded hospital waiting room, crammed with panicked people on the verge of paranoia, almost sure that the swine flu is already a global pandemic of  Stephen-King-The-Stand-apocalyptic proportions. No wonder there would be a jerk of legs whenever I coughed or used a kleenex!

If I felt like myself, I would have made a loud comment about me having ASTHMA and not any kind of animal flu... but I couldn't care less about anything else but getting air inside! Sheeessshhh, it's hard to keep a conscious breathing and a mentally measuring of the oxygen that goes into your lungs!

I was there for an hour or so, before being taken into a room where I took some medicines (steroids, ha!!!) and 3 albuterol treatments. At around 10:30 I was allowed to go home, but as soon as 11:30 I was again on the inhaler. I got better through the night, and woke up EXTREMELY tired, pain all over, and just feeling not myself... Actually, I am exhausted!!!, EXHAUSTED!

Maybe it is the oxygen actually feeding my blood stream for the first time in weeks, and my body is in kind of a high from it. Or maybe it is the mental tiredness of being aware of such natural human functions for such a long stretch of time. Maybe it's just something as vane as how my house was clean yesterday and today it seems armaggedon came here last night...

Or maybe, just maybe, I left the ER with a little bit more of what I asked for... and soon someone around me will be faced with the choice of going to Las Vegas or Nebraska, and David will be spelling MOON...

La rechichinfla

La Rechichinfla es una palabra que no existe en el diccionario, pero es muy importante en el vocabulario... bueno, por lo menos en el mio. No me acuerdo donde fue que por primera vez la escuche, pero desde ese momento se quedo insertada en mi memoria y la uso frecuentemente.

Digamos que significa algo asi como "la fregada", que no es una palabra muy elegante. Tiene cierto dejo de "la chingada", pero esta de plano ya es algo que no dice uno frente a alguien importante y que ademas le ponen "beeep" si alguien la dice en la tele. Digamos que esta en medio de los dos terminos; 'ora si que ni muy muy, ni tan tan. Lo bueno de "La Rechichinfla" es que no se siente tan suavecita como la fregada, ni tan re-dura como la otra. Y es retesabrosa para decirla!

Para ejemplificar el uso de mi palabra casi favorita, narro mi reciente experiencia con los artes de la costura.
Nunca, pero nunca, he sido buena para coser. Me desespero porque no puedo, me ennervan los relajos de hilos, pedazos de tela y todas las demas chucherias que se acumulan para un trabajo de costura, y ademas, nunca puedo enhebrar la aguja de la maquina.

Y sin embargo, la gente que vive conmigo (Esposo, 39. Hijo, 13)  sabe todavia MENOS de los hilos y los alfileres, asi que me toca a mi echar las puntadas. Y la verdad, lo dejo para cuando ya no se puede esperar mas, y lo evito practicamente a toda costa.

Una cosa que no pude evitar, fue cuando tuve que coser los numeros y las insignias en la camisa de Scout de D. A manera de excusa, puedo decir que me dieron los parches en la manana, y lo tenia que tener listo para ese mismo dia. Y yo pense que seria requetefacil, pero, ay! fue terrible! Acabe con dolor de cabeza y sin querer saber nada pero nada de los scouts, del hijo y del mundo entero.

En fin, lo importante es que cuando estaba en mis labores, (ya desesperada al grado de no importarme los piquetes, sino como poner el cochinero en la camisa)  el telefono sono seguidito como cuatro veces:

• Telefono: Riiiiingggg!!!
• Yo: (dejando todo para ir a contestar) ASh!!!!

• Telefono: Riiiiiiinggg!!!
• Yo: AAAAAAASSSHHHHHHHHHHH

• Telefono: Riiiiinggg!!!!
• Yo: Ah, que la joroba!

• Telefono: Riiiingggg!!!!
• Yo: AAAAAAAH, QUE LA RECHI...CHINFLAAAA!!!!!!!!

=========================================================

ORIGENES:

•  NO se de donde viene la palabra. No esta en ningun diccionario. Pero he encontrado "Chichinfla" en la cancion "Chilanga banda" de Cafe Tacvba, aunque en varias busquedas he encontrado diferentes definiciones, como: comico, bailador, y otras. Por eso supongo que "re-chichinfla" no existe. Si alguien tiene informacion de esta palabra, es bienvenida!
  

• Otras aplicaciones:

1. Hijo de la rechichinfla!
2. Por la rechichinfla!
3. Me lleva la rechichinfla! 
4. Mas las que se acumulen esta semana!!!! Ja!
   

I made sushi!!! And ate it for lunch!

Well, I like a kind of Sushi that you can't really find here where I live... I tasted it in some little booths that you would find everywhere in Guadalajara, called Sushi Itto. It has very different ingredients than the real japanese sushi, and it is much more appealing to me, because I not only dislike some raw (and even cooked) fish, but also I'm afraid of any tummy problems that can come from it. I also don't eat sushi much here in California, because it can add up to a VERY SCARY bill at the end.

Sooooo, my AMORE, Alfredo, bought me this kit to make sushi that helps you make it without much of the hassle of the bamboo mat. At least this is what the product claimed. And it must be truth because I was successful and I made SUSHI!!!

To begin the process, I started with a very simple sushi, because I wanted to try the kit without ruining a lot of food while doing it. So I made it with cream cheese and avocado only.
At the beginning, I started with the Nori then added the rice and then turned the rice sheet so that when rolling, the rice would be in the outside. (I know, I like the nori outside, but the manual said to try this first... I would have thought this is more difficult... but... what do I know???)

Then the rolling starts...

Press hard and you are left with...

TAA DAAAAA!!!!!

Cut it, serve with soy sauce... (and I add lemon to it. My friend Michelle taught me this wonderful tip)

And done! I ate it and it was delicious. Now I only need some chopsticks and I can have this at lunch every day with different fillings.

 

Aren't they much more beautiful with the Nori on the outside?

I am even thinking of one for David, with cheese, and maybe ham as a sheet instead of the nori? I don't know, let's see what the future brings about!!!

PINK FRIDAY '09!!

Today there was a rally everywhere in California, to protest on what is getting to be known as "Pink Slip Friday". This is a protest against the budget cuts of more than $11 billion dollars that the State is proposing, which would mean less teachers, more students per classroom, and there's even been a rumor about a change of the school schedule.

Of course I got to be in the San Lorenzo Rally. Standing at the corner of Hesperian and Lewelling, we held posters and encouraged people going by to honk and make some noise. And I should add, that as a neighbor of the San Lorenzo Unified School District (it's just about across the street from my house) the noise WAS HEARD! The cheering, the honking, everything!!!


I have to say that I felt many emotions. There was the excitement of being part of something so important; I felt grateful every time someone honked; I felt moved because of the kids from Arroyo High School (probably some other schools, but for sure Arroyo), they were so actively participating, chanting "SAVE OUR TEACHERS", dancing and keeping the spirits up.
It was definitely a good experience.




For anyone interested, here's a link to take some action. http://capwiz.com/nea/ca/home/
You can email your legislator to support your schools, your teachers, your children. This is the easiest involvement you can have: just click away and TAKE SOME ACTION!!!!!

A little bird told me...

Last year I got acquainted with TWITTER. I was determined to find an online tool or a software that would help me have an easier way to have a journal, since it is really important for me to keep one, yet I find it very difficult to hand write. I found three great sources of exactly the things I was looking for.

The first one is COZI.com. This is an amazing site that I'm sure will bring many more attractions in the future. It's really cool. It let's you jolt family moments, pictures, grocery lists and a planner with different colors for each person in your house. It can be downloaded and it syncs with the online planner automatically, so you always have the same information in your computer and online (as long as you are connected to the internet, of course). It recently added a feature that allows your Microsoft Outlook calendar to be synchronized with the one in Cozy, which I'm sure is really useful for Outlook lovers. Besides, it lets you send messages to your family cell phones!!! Cool! No cost to send the message! This is really a find, a treasure... I love my Cozi.


Then, I found a software for a personal journal, which is fantastic: AdvancedDiary. This one really put the finger on my dream of having a journal like the one Doogie Howser had in his computer at the end of every show. This is the software that allows that. Only in a windows like appearance, which is an improvement from the DOS-like screen Dr. Howser had. I should add that this was an easy download for a trial period, and then a fast and inexpensive one-time rate to obtain the license. The company has a beautiful customer service. Actually, the best I have had EVER. Quiet, respectful and efficient. Really, really a dream... Still, I need to find the will to fill it with my memoirs. But that's not the software's fault... it's mine!

And then, I found Twitter. I loved it, because I love to text. If I had a phone and couldn't make calls, but could text, I still would feel happy. One of my wishes is to have one of those phones that have one key to each letter; but I don't care for all the internet downloading, music and whatnot that these phones include... specially because of the extra fees it means to have them. So... I guess I will have to wait until they have text-and-call-phones-only, or until the economy has changed so much that I will be able to afford it without feeling guilty.

Anyway, I fell in love with Twitter. At the beginning I thought it would be a great way to let someone other than me listen to my witty thoughts and news. I also got very happy with twits from my knitting guru, or other funny people. But then I got tired of very vain and stupid comments, so I turned them off, although I still follow them. So I was faced with the question: who do I follow?

I have been trying to get family and friends to use TWITTER, so that I have someone to follow; I found that it would be great to receive messages from my family abroad, about what they are doing, or if something bad happens and they cannot afford an international long distance call at the moment... but until now, my husband is the only one that uses it, and to tell the truth, we can send messages directly to one another.

But today, watching a documentary about how the world is going to end to exist as we know it on Dec. 21st, 2012, I had an epiphany: for sure the Red Cross, and the news channels have Twitter. so I started to follow abc7news, the Red Cross for the Silicon Valley chapter, AND a motivational quote service... just to be able to deal with the news I might be receiving in these supposedly apocalyptic times. I was going to follow Al Gore, but I found his tweets make me worry, and I don't need to add to my paranoia with phone texts about how we are destroying our planet and ourselves. I know that, and it scares me, so I'm sorry Al Gore... I can only deal with so much depression at a time. I will just keep trying to do my part.

ANYWAY, after all this ranting, what I just wanted to say is that I think I found a good way to use Twitter, and now I don't feel like this good piece of technology is totally useless. It can really be put to good use. AND I'm going to add my son's phone to it, just for emergencies.

Why my family in Mexico won't use it? It's such a mystery to me!!!

Conversations with David #3

Thursday, January 22, 2009 at 10:18am

Mom: Ok, so to find out why you're sick, they will have to take some blood for a few tests...
David: WHAT? why!!!
M: To make sure you're ok!
D: But... but... but... I'M UNDERAGE!!!!

Conversations with David #2

Friday, January 16, 2009  

Lunch time at school
Friend 1: What's that, David?
David: Yakult
Friend 1: oh...!

Friend 2: Hey, what's that David has?
Friend 1: Yak milk

Conversation with David #1

Alfredo: Let's eat here... Mexican food!
David: Nooo, not Mexican food.
A: Why not? You must like Mexican food... you are Mexican
D:So?
A:Well, Mexicans eat Mexican food.
D: FOODIST!

:D

Chronicle of a nightmare - "My brother's sucide"

Specifics: In color.  In English and Spanish. Everyone had names, but not remembering them.

It's election time. The two main candidates (one man, one woman) are fighting hard to get elected, but they are long time friends. My oldest brother knows one of them (the man) because he is a Chemist working in a hospital research lab, and the candidate is a doctor involved in neurological chemistry activity and diseases. They work in the same hospital. This doctor - candidate is very much respected by the medical community, and loved by his staff. He is a just and compassionate human being.

The polls show this is going to be a very tight election. The woman candidate is also loved and respected.
The woman candidate (I don't know her background or occupation, but it seems she is already a politician)  is feeling tired, and a bit sick. I go with her to the hospital to see a doctor. We are not worried, really, we think it might just be the stress of the election.

We are welcomed by the doctor-candidate's staff. The woman-candidate has been there before. She has received treatment for a minor condition While we wait to be seen, they show us around. They take us to the new wing, where new procedures are being developed. We see people inside glass incubators, with different kinds of materials attached to their heads or bodies. One of them even has something like leeches in the head!!! We are disgusted.
Something happens in one of the incubators. Nurses and technicians rush into the room, and start working on the patient. We peek through the window.  We ask what's going on. A nurse tells us it is the doctor-candidate's mother. She is having some kind of trouble. The female candidate looks to the patient, and gasps. She screams. She tells me it's HER mother in the incubator!!!

Chaos starts. The doctor-candidate runs to escape the security guards. We (candidate and I) start looking at the incubators. There's people we know, they were not sick and now they are being tortured! We ask the nurses to help us take the devices out of the patients. We don't know what the damage is to these people.

The mother tries to tell us something. It's hard to understand. It's like she's had a stroke. She says She was there for a cataract surgery. The doctor suggested some kind of alternative wave treatment, with no surgery involved. The things connected to her head are somehow interrupting her nervous system, and she couldn't speak. There are probes going inside her brain. This is some kind of lobotomy!!! The other patients have different story. They were sold an alternative treatment for sinus infections, depression, visual surgeries, etc. Some cannot react anymore. They are in vegetative state!.

The candidate and I contact the CIA and the FBI (?). We go with them to the doctor's house. He has two kids. One of them is a mute teenager girl who seems to be in a constant state of terror. The other one is a crippled boy, about 12 years old. He cannot talk well, and it's like his legs are glued together. He has some kind of IV somewhere in his body. This boy points his eyes to the pool outside. We go out with armed officers and detectives. The doctor starts walking, saying something about him being the greatest researcher in history. He will soon come to an amazing discovery. The humanity will lack the answers because we are interrupting his research. They arrest him and take him out.

We take the IV out of the boy. He suddenly starts to move his legs a bit. It's the doctor's son. The doctor has been experimenting on his own children!!!

We go to my house. The woman candidate goes outside to get rid of a machine that the doctor had given her, which was supposed to do something for her stress. She says that while she was using it, she was seeing flashes of light. She throws the remaining rays of the machine to the sky.

I wait in my house. My brother comes home, and I start telling him the news. I tell him he is going to be questioned by the authorities  because he knew the doctor. He gets scared, because he thinks I am telling him that the FBI thinks he is involved. He says he didn't know anything, and that he really loved the doctor because he had given him a job when he didn't have one. He is like his mentor. He is so disappointed he starts to cry. He says he was not involved, that this is impossible, that he does not want to be question. That the doctor was good... he suddenly seems so depressed!!!
I go to my car. From the outside I see my brother is taking a rope... I start to scream to my teenage boy who is inside the house; he does not understand what I am telling him. I say: "open the door, he's in danger. Get the rope out of his hands". I rush into the house. My son is very confused. He does not get what I am talking about. I hurry to my brother's room. I try to open the door, but there is something blocking it. I push hard and I peek inside. My brother hung himself.

I shout "NOOOOO", but my voice almost does not come out. I wake up to my own weird mute-like scream: "NOOOOOOOOOOO".

My heart is pounding, I take deep breaths, but somehow the air does not seem to be enough. My chest hurts. I feel nauseous, I will throw up. I am so dizzy I cannot walk straight line to the bathroom. It takes me about 15 minutes to come down, and my heart to stop pounding.
I go to sleep, and have nightmare no. 2.

"The deluge that is coming"
This was a musical I saw when I was a child. I saw it maybe 8 or 10 times. I just loved it; everything about it. I have seen many other musicals in my life, and although I have loved many of them (others not so much), "El diluvio que viene" has always been my favorite.

Why? Well... I could never put my finger into it. But I guess the idea of shaking the standards that don't make sense was what got my heart, even at a young age.

The story is, basically, that the world was full of wicked people. Against all odds, God decided to send another deluge. He decides to save one priest and the people who will follow him from a small town with normal unsuspecting citizens, who are about their daily lives wondering about their love situation, dealing with the visits of a wordly prostitute and the possibilities of severe droughts that threatens them.

The priest, Silvestre, starts to build an ark; the only one who does not mock him and follows him, is Clementina, a young girl that is (not so) secretly in love with him. Even knowing that it is a forbidden and impossible love, she can't help but to go with him. They go up into the ark, and the rain starts... and Silvestre starts an interesting and very respectful discussion with God, asking him why he has always learned from Him to love, and to forgive, and now he must stay and watch his people die, those that he loves, and whom he has forgiven in his name so many times!!

So he says (in a rough translation): "I have learned everything from you, and this is love, so, NO, I must stay, united with this people because I belong to them, and I have to accept them with everything they are and because of everything they are, the good, and the evil, because THAT is love, which I learned from YOU".

So Silvestre goes down the ark, showing God he will die for them! So God decides to take the waters and forgive the world from their wickedness, give them another opportunity. He even sends a rainbow.

Also interesting, somewhere along the way, God gives Silvestre and Clementina the news that He had never prohibited priests to marry, which makes them very happy, of course! Actually, when in the ark, they were set to be the new first couple, to multiply and fill the earth. The prohibition to marry did not come from God, but from the human side of their Church.

I think that the main message of this story is this complicated relationship between men and God. Just when a good man of God, who has dedicated his life to Him is about to obey his strong, harsh order, Silvestre opens his mouth and speaks of the contradiction he's facing: how can he leave his people when he's been taught forgiveness and love, even towards his enemies!!!

So, he chooses to speak and disobey. Isn't free will the best gift he's been given? Isn't it what it is all about? And what is God to do? It's not like He can't deny Silvestre's words are true. Denying him the right to make his own decision would be denying His own plan... and in His mercy He allows Silvestre to live among his people again.

I really think this is the way God is. Free will is free will. He gave it to us. It is ours to use. Like it or not, it makes ALL OF US free to do pretty much whatever we want. Laws are given, we are warned of the consequences, but still we do as we wish.

One of my main concerns when I was growing up and trying to decide if I did believe in God, was that I thought that sometimes we have our reasons for deciding to do something that did not please the crowds or something that could actually be scary for the crowds. And I decided to think that if God existed, he would have the intelligence to understand our reasons... MY reasons. And sure, he would take into account my actions, but also the actions that had been taken upon myself, those that cause me to make certain decisions. Thinking like this, everyone has his or her own reason for doing something, right? And in an ideal world he/she would be respected --as long as Cesar's laws are followed too, of course ;)-- to do as he/she wishes, because... who knows what each one of us has had to endure? who knows why we choose what we choose? who knows what knowledge we have and we don't have?

And from there, who are we, as people, to judge the choices others make? We should be working on ourselves, preparing our arguments to talk to God and tell him our reasons, and not pretending to help Him decide about others. Really... who are we?

Who are we to point a finger at others free will? Who are we to smash other people's free will when not even GOD would do it?

Nobody. That's who.

I'm closest to loosing it when taking a pill

Sometimes I just want to lose it. Let "IT" hatch.

I feel it coming, like a dreaded black cloud fogging my senses... and I know it will be there, that insane, desperate and anguished, lunatic fit, full of uncontrolled half-sobs when you want to throw everything around, but your mind and body are so tired your arms feel and look laxed and heavy; a Connie-Corleone-kind-of-loosing-it, when Carlo isn't staying for the meal he had her prepare. Yeah! YEAHHHH! LIKE THAT!

It takes too much to take me there, though. I mean, I don't even know how much, because I actually have never done it, but I have come very close.

This one was one of those mornings. I got up early, had two loads of laundry on their way even before I took a shower. Then, time started to go by freakishly fast. Still, I ignored it, because I definitely had to spend 5 extra minutes to go over the basics of teeth brushing with my 12 year old son, so we did not risk his going to school with the sepulchre breath he'd had this weekend.

By the time I was back from dropping him off, I had a full set sinus headache. I've had it for about 3 days, and it's just unbearable. I ate something, and decided to take a medicine to relief the sinus pain, pressure and allergy-like symptoms.

The moment is still playing in slow motion in my mind... with my nose dripping, my eyes clouded from non-stopping tears, throbbing, harmful pain in my forehead and face... and the stupid peel back/push through medicine packet starts to get the best of me.

HOW TO GRAB THE DARN @$*#&% CORNER? Yes, I know, there, where the arrow is. But it's not loose, not a bit. I'll try, even if I have short nails. 76 times I pick it with my finger. It does not separate from the foil. I try to tear it. Too hard. Blow nose. Dry tears. Rub forehead. Pick corner again. Pick, pick, pick. Grunt. Stump. Try to push through without peeling. Too hard. Pick, pick, pick. Cry. Rub forehead. Scissors... where are the scissors? Cut. Not close enough to the air bubble. "WHY!!!???", I shout... then softly, sad whisper..."why?". Rub forehead. Cut. Cut. Push, push, push. GOT IT! YESSS!!! YESSS! I GOT IT, just push a bit more... dropped to the floor.

I don't care, I go to the floor, pick it up with all my body going to my sinuses. Stand up, dizzy from the pressure... the room is spinning, the pill is dropped again. It goes under the stove.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

My scream awakes my neighbor's peacock (yes, they have a peacock) and starts its noise/voice calling: aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaa!.

Next pill of the packet. Pick, pick, pick. Grunt. Stump. aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaa!. Try to push through without peeling. Too hard. Pick, pick, pick. Cry. Rub forehead. Scissors. Cut. Cut. Cut. aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!. Dry tears. Blow nose. Run to table, pill to fall there. Push through, yes! Pill in mouth. Glass of water...

It is empty...

Connie Corleone
looses
it.