Girl Anachronicles

#1, next Monday is going to be, in some measure, surreal. Going back to 1995, the expectations, the nervousness.

#2, next two weeks, on the other hand, are going to be more real than I would like to deal with. Most people will not understand my reasons for the decision I’ve made. Some will come as far as to be annoyed. I even expect the random colleague to come across and demand answers and explanations, and I’m afraid I won’t have a generally satisfactory answer.

#3, Mother’s Day is drawing near, as well as my sister’s birthday, all of it during a moment in life in which money is going to be a precious commodity. I think the best I will be able to do will be to offer them homemade food. My sister has been clamoring for some cheesy potatoes (potatoes au gratin, if you wanna get more gourmand in the description), and my mom has asked in more than one occasion for my pasta carbonara. I think I will oblige (and will probably throw in some homemade dessert for good measure). It’s the best I can do.

#1, Found this on eBay, and although I’m not gonna bid on it (what for, really?), it was yet another nostalgia trip to renew my memory of this tin lunchbox.

Specially of the matching thermos, which never sealed completely and would always let some of the juice out onto my napkins, utensils, other thermos or even worse, onto my sandwich.

#2, I just learned that Guillermo del Toro is producing a film adaptation of one of my favorite comics: Death: The High Cost of Living, and he wants creator Neil Gaiman to direct! Awesome move! And I’m SO looking forward to it, it’s scary. They could also fuck it up so many ways

All hail the Endless!

Summer’s here (to my brother’s chagrin, he’s convinced that summer is jinxed for him), and there are plans around, waiting for the right time, the right moment. There’s, for example, a group trip in the plans (for which I will furnish more details later). Closer still is our moving day. The date has been set for June 16th. Thankfully we don’t own all that much shit, and we’re basically moving our room only, so it should be a pretty simple (or at least short) affair. There have also been talks of going to the beach, going kayaking, a few summer-y things to offset our shut-in natural habits (Eze’s and mine). In short, summer promises to be interesting at least.

Moving Day is at Hand (Diana & Eze Edition)

There are a few things I’ve been meaning to do as soon as we move. It’s not so much that I can’t do them at our current living space, most of them I can, but I never felt comfortable doing them. Besides, living out of a darkened room (in which only the distant, indirect rays of sun alighted dimly through the half-closed window shades) is at best a glum way to lead a Sunday afternoon.

Things I mean to do as soon as we set new camp in our own apartment:

1) Retake Yoga – it’s been more than a year since I last did yoga. I’m sorely missing it… literally. I can feel my bones misaligned (one of the main reasons why I love yoga so much: there are some positions in which my back cracks, and that feels SO good!)

2) Give myself a pedicure and a manicure – my limbs need some TLC. They’re dry, cracked and flaky. A nice Sunday afternoon spent soaking hand and feet in soapy water is just what I need.

3) Spend a Saturday morning with a huge coffee mug and a piece of warm bread with margarine in front of my laptop surfing the net, in nothing but my underwear… in the dining room ^_^ windows open to the morning breeze! YAY!

4) Take my sewing machine to be fixed. We’ll have space for it now. Maybe I’ll finally learn some sewing basics through hands-on experience. If you run into me in a misshapen dress, you’ll know it’s under way.

I probably have many more plans in my subconscious to carry out as soon as I finally feel “at home” somewhere. And I’ll probably blog about them too … or not.

It’s a Cruel Summer

It’s been years since I last went to the beach. I don’t mean the occasional, full-dressed visit in which you stand at the water’s edge and just breathe the salty breeze in, and talk about how pretty the water looks; or you just munch on a greasy fritter while contemplating pork’s immortality (“contemplando la inmortalidad del marrano” is one of my favorite pastimes). I’m talking about the all-out, bikini-clad, sunscreen-stinking, sand-in-your-underwear, insecure-in-your-cellulite kind of visit. I haven’t bathed in seawater since I got together with Eze. July 24, 2004 was the last day I went (to Playa Ballena, with Jorge Juan, to be exact). I spent all day thinking about the first kiss Eze gave me (the night before, while nursing a bad case of “drunk Diana”). A smile was permanently pasted on my face for the rest of the day. Maybe I would have dedicated a few more minutes to the water and the sand and the sun, had I known “being with Eze” would mean “you will never step toe on the beach again, missy!”. ^_^ (I’m just kidding! I like teasing him that way)

We have a friend who’s keen into internal tourism. He likes to spend weekends visiting places most Puerto Ricans take for granted. And he’s been inviting us for a long time to join him in his trips. He’s been wanting to go rappelling, something which Eze and I could marginally do given that the ropes don’t break under the stress of our weight. Another thing our friend has suggested is kayaking at the bioluminescent bay in Fajardo. That’s a night trip, that’s what Eze calls a “boring” trip (mainly ‘cuz he can’t swim)… that’s what I call “an offer I can’t refuse”. This is one thing I hope to be doing sometime this summer.

The other thing our friend has been insisting on is a trip to the beach. This vexes me a bit: my body is nowhere near “beach-ready”. And I know I’ll hear my friend’s voice protesting because basically that would be product of one of my complexes. But let’s talk truth here: my thighs are host to a valley of cellulite. Cellulite has invaded and conquered my thighs. And as much as I can hide and conceal this fact in my everyday clothes, that would be a no-can-do in a swimsuit or bikini. Which would leave me with two options:

1) Terrorize women and small children (plus gross out all those whose eyes are not tolerant of alternate realities to those sold by beer commercials)

2) Dress up in the boricua bestial makeshift beach-going attire par excellence: lycra biker shorts and a huge t-shirt. Which would make me incredibly ridiculous and would probably set a few individuals my way to ask for “el caldero de arroz con pollo” (the cauldron with rice and chicken).

I think I’ll opt for #1 if we ever get to go to the beach again. At least people will recoil in horror and get away from me (i.e. leave me alone), instead of the other way around. ^_^

Take-off in July

(More information later on)

iGasm -
As soon as I sat down at my desk this morning and turned on my computer, Eze sent in this little article on the best gadget ever invented. Here’s part of the pitch:

Load up your iPod with killa choons and take your appreciation of music to a whole new level. This genius little device hooks up to your iPod, MP3 player, laptop or CD player and vibrates in sync with the beat. Go at it hard and fast with a pounding drum and bass track or chill with the ambient classic.

I mean, HELL isn’t that a nice thing to have? It’s the perfect merge between two of my biggest passions: sex and music. If only I had the $50 to spare! :-\

For Rent – 3 Bedroom/1 Bathroom Apartment – Finally, after 4 years of struggle, my Dad has found a decent place to live. Four years ago, he took the decision to move out to the continental US, thinking that his business would fare better with the gringos. First he shacked in with his sister-in-law and her small family in San Antonio, TX (it was an uncomfortable affair for both ends, or so I’m told), then he moved out to Fort Myers, Flawriduh, and that’s when his wife decided to join him. To the chagrin of the whole brood of children, they had to be content with squeezing their sore asses into a small, cramped studio that paid what they were paying here for a 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom house. Now, after 2 or so years battling loneliness, dry heat, freak electricity storms and general unemployment, they moved to Orlando. And even though things started faring out the same or worse than before, he has finally been approved for the rent of a comfortable apartment in which the place you shit, eat and sleep is not the same.

Yay for Daddy!!!

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Bonus: the very cool, very silly Rick just sent me this:

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Thank youuuu! ^_^ LOL!