goodbye, good luck

it's ten days later now. and here I am with the same stupid grin on my face.

I like it but I don't trust it. oh but I like him. I really do. I didn't think anyone could ever make me giggle like a schoolgirl again. I love the way he talks to me, how soft spoken he is, how tall he is. it doesn't hurt that he obviously doesn't find me repellant; grey eyes GREY, and I'm all gushy.

and... STOP. breathe. back to reality. this reigning stuff is difficult; it's like learning clutch and first gear all over again. except instead of stalling, you might slip and fall down and next thing you know, you're in another country and you're not very sure how you got there. hah.

I'm not in love. I didn't fall in love these last ten days, ut strangely enough, I finally managed to fall OUT of love with someone else.


me he dado cuenta de qué es lo que está mal. por qué no, nomás no, podemos ser amigos. no es que yo tenga problemas sin resolver, o que sea extraña, o que esté loca; escucha solamente.

creo que ésta será la última carta que te escribo, y estoy CONTENTA. puedo volver a recordar todo lo que me gustó y empezar a olvidar lo desagradable. me quedo con toda la música, todas las comidas, todos los cantos, las cosquillas y los juegos de vídeo.

voy a olvidarme del hecho de que yo creí en ti cuando todo apuntaba a lo contrario; es decir, que comencé a vivir contigo, y moví cielo mar y tierra para conseguirnos casa, me endeudé seriamente porque tú prometiste que todo saldría bien; yo siempre te creí. muchas veces tal vez hubiera sido mejor o más prudente tirar la toalla; yo lo pensé algunas veces, y tú también; al fin y al cabo, no tuvimos mucha suerte como pareja, por decir poco. sin embargo, me quedé.

y a pesar de ello, la única vez que yo te pedí que creyeras en mí, o en nosotros, cuando todo apuntaba a lo contrario, tú ni siquiera lo consideraste. qué va, no lo intentaste ni una vez.

por eso no podemos ser amigos.

top 5 of bel and momichi, as written in stone, 'cuz what's gone is gone is gone
1. smile in a wave -- screaming headless torsos
2. little wonder -- david bowie
3. si volvieran los dragones -- sabines y paez
4. without you I'm nothing -- placebo & bowie
5. rocket brothers -- kashmir

plus

ashtray girl -- placebo -- for her (what's wrong with this picture?)
megalomaniac -- incubus -- for him (you're no jesus, you're no elvis... you're no answer)

and two happy songs!

primavera cero -- soda stereo
let love rule --- lenny kravitz

*curtain drops*

gracias totales.

exorcismo

a veces no escribo durante algún tiempo porque sólo puedo pensar en una cosa, más bien en una persona, y lo odio.

francamente estoy harta. quiero que termine. son ya dos años y yo sigo en la lela, despierto con cara de constipada todos los días, hago memoria de mis sueños mientras me tomo mi pastillita y siempre es lo mismo, que si el mar, que si él, que si ya, que si no. estoy cansada de comenzar todos mis días recordando que pasé la noche soñando con un hombre que no me ha hablado por voluntad propia en más de un año. excepto para deslizarse una noche en mi cama como un ladrón y desaparecer para siempre a la mañana siguiente.

estoy harta de sentir que él falta en mi vida, que con todo y lo bien que me va ahora, en cada alegría y en cada tristeza y en cada paso que doy todos los días, todas las noches cuando me voy a la cama y todas las mañanas cuando lo recuerdo, siempre pienso "ojalá estuvieras aquí".

estoy harta de eso. sáquenme a satanás.

top 3 favourite movies of all times

1. secretary -- directed by steven shainberg
2. high fidelity -- directed by stephen frears
3. the life aquatic -- directed by wes anderson

remote

¿por qué siempre sueño las mismas cosas? a veces los sueños son
mejores o menos torturados que otros, pero vuelve lo mismo de siempre,
los mismos motivos: el mar, siempre el mar que no puedo alcanzar; un
barco, un avión, un transporte que debo encontrar; un equipaje que
debo hacer.

y es una tontería eso de que uno sueña en blanco y negro.

agua infinita e inalcanzable, el hombre al que beso... pero en mis
sueños, él me responde.

top 3 del soñoliento:
1. still wake up in the mornings -- goma
2. you've got to hide your love away -- the beatles
3. the way we were -- gladys knight and the pips

voy de salida para entregar un recibo. viajaré pues al centro de la
tierra y volveré...

a-ha. some more self-serving BS. hey, if a girl can't rant in her own blog, where can she?

(crickets)

good news is: I finished the chapter! yay!
now if only I get some help for the immediate next one, I might just be fine.

I have a huge job enqueueUEd since like a week ago, but I've obviously been too busy with all my breeding a whole new metropolis deep in my right ear and whatnot, so now I'm all into self-pity and I think I should be much congratulated that I have finished this job... only a few days after I said I would.

rochester called earlier today --I think, although that's another thing that seems dreamlike just now. in any way, I told him man, i'm just not up to it. not today. maybe tomorrow; maybe on thursday. he wasn't heartbroken I might add. neither of us is specially interested in killing any more brain cells with anything that isn't strictly necessary, say alcohol, drugs, or videogames. of course, preparing our class for practice does not quite make it into this priority list. and, he's got tickets for U2 tomorrow night; I would say I'm the one who's holding the shitty end, since my middle ear is infected, today it's two years since the day that blahBLAH, and I'm still much in the mood for self-pity.

the bad news is: I just found a new pain; last saturday --or was it friday perhaps; does time fly or what? is it tuesday already? where was I? ah yes -- last saturday, and even though I was probably the soberest person of the evening, I managed to 1) smash one of our pretty glasses and 2) quite obviously splintered my left middle finger something fierce.

this I've suspected since sunday, but I just registered just now.
hey, mila has been munching whole shards of glass all week, so I should be all right.

and now let's see if this baby works.



top 5 of JUST NOW:

1. where is my mind -- the pixies -- I was going for another #1 altogether, but this one started playing just now. it was no contest. we'll leave dresden dolls for another day.
2. mr brightside -- the killers -- these guys somehow manage to sound upbeat when singing about misery. perfect.
3. ain't no sunshine -- al green -- because I'm also a sad bastard.
4. money for nothing -- the dire straits -- did you know they were scottish? didja?
5. what a wonderful world -- the ramones -- I'm wearing the t-shirt today, so it's only just fair.

last night I dreamed that somebody loved me

tengo una infección en el oído. lo cual de más está decir, no es agradable y ni siquiera digno; nadie me cree que desde el jueves padezco una dolencia que me hace inclinar la cabeza como el perrito de la RCA.

m me dice:

"claro, es que deberías cuidarte, deberías comer bien, deberías comer TRES veces al día, no una vez cada que te acuerdas, hacer ejercicio, dejar de fumar cigarrillos, no fumar tanta mota y tomar algunas vitaminas".

a lo cual yo digo, ok, compraré unas vitaminas.

y mi vida mientras tanto, en el hiato permanente. qué le va uno a hacer.

termino de leer High Fidelity de Nick Hornby y encuentro que en la portada hay algo que me choca un poco. "... so sharp about sex and manliness, memory and music."

manliness. he descubierto que ya me cansé del club de toby. este libro es brillante sobre ambos sexos, y sin embargo no es esta la primera vez que se me indica que ésta es una historia de niños. y entonces me enojo, pero sé que la batalla está perdida de entrada, porque ésta es la forma en que probablemente el mismo hornby describe su libro, y entonces ya perdí desde antes de empezar.

oh, ya véis como todo es de fastidioso.

mila cumple hoy un mes en la casa, el catorce de febrero entre cualquier día. qué tierno. lo bueno es que a ella realmente le importa un pimiento; si pudiera hablar diría que siempre ha vivido con nosotras, y que poco importa cuánto es eso en huesos de carnaza o paseítos mañaneros.

me cae re gordo san valentín; y ¡demonios! por supuesto que tuvo que caer hoy, ¿a que no? es decir, que hoy hace dos años ocurrió algo que cambió mi vida en ese entonces; y ahora, me cae el doble de gordo san valentín.

lo cual no debe traducirse en que sufro; por el contrario, me siento como quien contempla a alguien derrumbado sobre la acera, y lo pateas con el pie para comprobar si está vivo, si se mueve, si respira.

creo que está vivo, pero profundamente dormido.

o en otras palabras, creo que perdí la razón hace un par de días... y no me siento ni bien ni mal, sino exactamente igual... aunque me duele el oído.

y mira, mientras que estoy inflando la infrastructura detrás de mi nueva y discreta página, me lo encuentro en el bianamado y recién instalado chat de google. y entonces yo vuelvo los ojos al cielo y digo oh DIOS MÍO, ¿es que no puedo dejarlo en paz? ¿es que no podemos TODOS dejarlo en paz?

al parecer no, porque hasta encuentro chistoso cómo todo vuelve y te muerde las pantorrillas, como nos hace la mili a M y a mí todas las mañanas. dices no, ya no pensaré en ello, es más, ya no pienso en ello, todo está bien. mira cómo NO pienso en ello. sí, cool. BIEN.

y luego zas, es lo primero que me encuentro en el chat. y es bien curioso si me detengo a pensarlo, porque hace más de un año que me curé ese vicio del chat; y así, de madrazo, me salta de la nada cuando abro para checar el correo, un ¿hola, hay alguien? que yo no pedí y que no puedo ignorar.

is there anybody out there.

JA y quién dice que no me clavo.

en todo caso, ahora que lo pienso ni siquiera iba a checar mi correo, iba a enviarme una de las tres mil doscientas cicuenta y cuatro invitaciones que google piensa que puedo distribuir entre todos mis amigos. el iluso.

éste es en realidad un post de prueba. y sin embargo miren toda la neurosis que logré empacar en el ensayo.

mundo, ahí te voy.

less defined as the days go by

oh boy. well here, I'll try again.

stressful holidays indeed.

I've been having so much work, which is a good thing. I'm positive I'll actually even believe that when I actually get paid. see, I don't want to whine, but really... all the money I'm getting any time soon, I already owe. with a vengeance.

and on top of that, all the holiday craze in the city, that just makes everything twice as dreadful, really. headbutting my way into the metrobus every day, dealing with a thousand people at work who'd like their sun-shaped tea infusors wrapped in blue paper, not yellow. my dad never fails to repproach that I never visit enough.
now I haven't seen them since Christmas, but man, really, I've got so much work and eh, I'm stressed.

I get stressed because he really is very sick and could go at any moment, and my 'I have work' excuses sound thin and fake even to my own ears. why yes, I try to drop by once every one or two weeks, but lately it has been mostly a hit-and-run operation. after all, it does take me a couple of hours to get there and back.

bah. you hear me? BAH!

it didn't help either that we had a rather, um, intense time at home too. the so termed house of Dames & Dragons has had a dire time lately, and that includes both the official and the honorary members, and both of the human and animal species. indeed, december saw the decease of an old-time canine friend, and my poor Lily hung suspended from one of her rear paws for a prolonged period of time, getting stuck on the spiral staircase that goes to the roof when trying to get away from the huge bully tomcat from across the street. my god, I used to be polite to that cat but I just flip him off every time I see him now.

I don't even want to get started with the human population pathos. let us just say, it's been intense.
(and on top of it all, of course, work-work-work. and lots of Bright Eyes and new Fiona.)

I don't know about the angelical roommate (that'd be fionn, our resident and ephemeral scotsman), but I think all of us, and marianne (roommie 1), and even I --who had no concrete reason to be freaking out, except maybe for a certain unnamed annoyance related to some other beings of strength-- hit rock-bottom at the christmas night party, taking place on the neighboring house, home of the other two thirds of the Scottish population around here. that is to say, mr. and mr. black horse, scottish, their english housemate, Elliot, and their spanish roommate paco.

all in all, I was in a pretty broody mood all the evening, because almost everything about the visit earlier to my parents irked me; it bothered me that my parents thought that Tim was my boyfriend again, my dad falling asleep on his coffee as usual; and then the whole gift exchange, and toast, and stuff, I say, I love my grandma and I will always love to see her, but I always feel like such a phony with my parents at these occassions. it never feels true. I love them, and I'd like to connect with them, but it just never feels so.
and then my father put us on the street to get a cab from the suburbs on Christmas Eve, because seemingly he'd rather put us on the street than letting us use the car for one night. The End.
at the end my mamma saved the ball by almost secretly picking us up and giving us a ride, so I didn't have to spend my grandma's christmas money on the 90 minute cabride.

we all verily agreed there was way too much alcohol involved at this social event, and there was a fair share of tickling and misdemenaurs, where are yous and even one potentially fatal case of bronchitis; I sat and watched on the big sofa-bed with Paco and my brother, we drank and drank, we smoked and smoked, we hijacked the music, until the Luxury Accesory (i.e., mr blackhorse #3 and another attaché) came, stood there looking gorgeous, and cried, "look, it's not like I don't love Joy Division, but you're making everyone want to kill themselves!"

then we surrendered to Beck, which was of course still very pleasant. I suppose by then we were too decadently intoxicated to care. at least I was. paco will testify that I was like the naughty sister in the story, tossing snakes and toads out of my mouth about a series of things in life that ultimately suck, but god knows I was a funny mofo all the same.

I came home early, only to freak out silently and by myself almost until sunrise. I hear that was a night for the sleepless, and there were many late nighters like myself. and even more later. some of them wearing skirts.

new year's was considerably better, except that I realize this is the first new year's I spend without my brother in our entire lives. I missed him. marianne, displaying a domesticity unheard of in her before, cooked a very large turkey, cortesy of her cellphone company, and we had it in company of good friends and with a lot of good wine. excellent company, yes. almost everyone went off partying afterwards, but I decided to skip it and I just stayed up talking with our last guest, our english neighbor, who got there pretty late from visiting his family and we actually stayed up until dawn.

all in all, I felt better. in between christmas and new year's everything seemed to fit together better and everything felt more at ease.

oh sheesh, I really didn't want to rant.

to summarize. lots of work. injured cats (both now, sandokan tried to cut his veins yesterday night). one friend who must become a friend. freaked out housepeople, who say they're feeling all kinds of better. which is good because even if they weren't strictly *my* problems, they affect me all the same.

lots of irkiness, I'm really not well in my head and in my heart. most of the times I'm okay, but only yesterday someone at the teahouse spoke roughly to me and I burst into tears. bel called the house on the 31st, actually looking for miranda, but 'it's so good to say HI to you.' we managed a record breaking time of 65 seconds of conversation before we started fighting, after which I collapsed on my couch like a cinderella and cried my little heart away, once again. I heard m talking to him and making him apologize, and I just said yeah, yeah, and we got off the phone. he didn't really want to apologize. and maybe he didn't need to; I was probably being a hysterical thing again.

and here's the risible thing: he said he meant to come for new year's, and I believed him. I even afforded to feel disappointed that he didn't show up.

oh man, I suck just as much as ever. send xanax.

I think that on the whole, I'm holding steady, but man, sometimes it's hard.

ball and chain

I've been in a funk the last several days, I won't deny it.
suddenly I'm made of whines and complaints and poorme's, and I start feeling attacked by just anyone for no good reason. even old ladies with small yappy dogs look at me ugly from the other side of the street.

even though there's always a reason, isn't there? I guess I should be good from now on and not stop taking me pills just as if.

just as if something as casual as a text message wasn't enough to bring this strong, tough new woman to grieved tears in three and a half seconds.
just as if I didn't still have dreams about a certain someone that can darken my mood for the whole day.
just as if some mornings I still want to do nothing but curl up in a little ball and never leave my bed again. what's the use, after all. heh.
and just as if, after all this time, sometimes I only want to write about you.

but I won't.
it's only the depression, and I've gotta coast it.

the needle tears a hole

I've been hurting all weekend. stupid dreams. stupid time of the year. stupid four year anniversary that doesn't matter anymore because... it doesn't exist anymore. so it's not really an anniversary, but I'm hurting anyway.

stupid, stupid, stupid october 21st. it hurts, it hurts. make it stop.

it doesn't help that I'd made up my mind not to think about it, but my whole weekend was about bringing it up, time after time after time.
on friday at my brother's party, I found --go figure-- three people who have been following my blog for some time. they like it. that was a pleasant surprise, but it made me sad, especially when one of them told me that it had made her sad to read all about last year and the year before, because she knew Bel and me together, and we always seemed like such a pretty couple, so in love with each other... what happened?

what happened, indeed.

then yesterday, before Fionn's (the third roommate) birthday dinner, M comes to me and asks if it'd be ok with me if she invited Bel. I said yes, what was there to say? no, I don't want to, keep him out of my house?

of course he said he'd come, but he never showed up. and that made me feel even worse. so meet my wreck on a sunday morning. if you'd be kind enough to shoot me dead... thanks.

today sucks. hurts.

and so it is, just like you said it would be

fine, so I'm moving. yes.

the moment I had the house for sure I called bel, my ex who has most of my stuff in the apartment we once shared. when we broke up we decided to leave the stuff there, because it had been an amicable break-up and some day we'd meet again and I'd take my stuff and everything would be just fine.

for a year I have been fighting the grownups around me, who said that I shouldn't trust him and that he was going to try and screw me over with the things, or otherwise to try and make things difficult for me when the time came. for a year I've been defending him, saying he's not like that, that he's different, that we have good memories, that he's not like everyone else.

I've been trying to talk to him since I knew of the move, and he always cut me off for some reason or other. he's always so busy, he always says he'll call back and he never does. so in the end, after trying three or four times to talk to him, I decided to text him, saying that I'd be there on saturday to pack and to let me know if that was OK with him. he never answered, so I sent the message again. finally I call yesterday night,

and he says that he did get my message, but that a message isn't enough, that I should have called. furthermore, he's busy today and tomorrow, and he wants to be there when I move, lest I take something that is not mine.

just in case I'm going to take something that isn't mine.

me. take something of his. he knows how much trouble I've gone through because of the things, I apologized profoundly to him because I had to take the fridge from him a couple of months ago, after I've gone through all this trouble to keep things smooth and keep some civility and everything, he's worried that I, his girlfriend who supported him for three years, am going to grab stuff that isn't mine just to screw him over.

and he doesn't care that I've been laying plans for the whole week and that I need it to happen this weekend, because I need to move before next weekend and my brother can't help me in the weekdays, and it doesn't matter that I have a key and that I know exactly what is mine and what isn't, I can't just let myself into the apartment I LIVED IN AND PAYED THE RENT FOR DURING TWO YEARS because I MIGHT TAKE SOMETHING OF HIS, because in his words, 'you just never know'.

i should be so happy about the move, but this has me brokenhearted. it's stupid, but I feel stupid too. I feel I've been stupid for a looooong time.

and that it still hurts more than it makes me mad, makes me all the more stupid.