Atlanta International Airport

(espanol -no es traduccion del ingles- al final)

I’m more comfortable in a hospital than in an airport. Although I’ve been flying since I was two weeks old (to be shown off to the family in Chile), I find I hate it more and more as I get older. It’s a completely unpleasant experience and I’m astonished that a survey published in the USA Today (“the nation’s paper”) said most people are more than satisfied with their flying experiences.

So, was it I’m picking up on that they’re not, or vice versa? Doesn’t it bother these happy people that we’re in a sarcophagus-shaped bullet, breathing recycled, dried-out air, subjected to the loud droning of the engine, unable to get a free meal anymore, or even decent headphones?

Since most of the flights I take are out of Canada, I usually have to be at the airport 2 hours ahead of time. And then wait. Wait, wait and wait. When you take a train, even across the border, you don’t need to go through this hurry-up-and-wait thing…

I have a checklist of things I need to carry with me when I travel, and one of them is a magazine, one that I can actually read, not just flip through (ie, not People). Most of them time, when I’m leaving I’ll take a Maisonneuve since I’m subscribed and I’m too cheap to buy a new magazine. On my way back I like a New Yorker, but that’s not always available in certain airports. I take a bottle of water to counter airplane air dehydration. If it’s a long flight, like the 20 hour journey to Chile, I have a small pillow that’s beautiful when you need to nap in an airport.

Lately, I’m concerned with spreading some more positive seeds of thought out there (Ms. Seed Spreader I am), so I would like to point out that airline magazines seem to have gotten better in the last couple of years. Particularly Air Canada and American Airlines. Right now, as a regular coach, middle class traveler for business and pleasure, my favourite carriers are those two and Lan Chile, which is the absolute best. Free wine in real glasses, and as I’ve pointed out in the past, I am positive they use aromatherapy to wake you up after the overnight stretch of the flight.

Now that’s service.

* * *
Hay que ir a Estados Unidos para darse cuenta del enorme desperdicio de recursos y espacio que debe ser llenado en vertederos en ese prospero país. Los esfuerzos que uno hace en una compacta ciudad como Montreal (con 1.8 millones de habitantes en la isla) son como migas comparado con lo que se podría hacer en territorios vastos como Orlando, donde he estado la semana recién pasada en una conferencia.

Hasta ahora, ningún centro de convenciones ha tenido acceso a reciclaje. Es algo en lo que me gustaría trabajar dentro de mi empresa. Una compañera de trabajo me mando al sitio greenmeetings.com y por ahí quiero ver como podemos mejorar al menos nuestros servicios. En la sección de las conferencias en que yo trabajo –la inscripción- se pierde mucho papel y plástico.

En la CBC, la radio nacional canadiense, escuche una nota acerca de los cartoneros chilenos y su ejemplar sistema para economías similares. Claramente, los Estados Unidos están en una posición muy diferente.

Aunque es ampliamente sabido que este país es uno de los sino el principal causante de los efectos nocivos al medioambiente del mundo, hay que verlo para creerlo. Hasta las luces que se dejan encendidas, o la infinita cantidad de envases y envoltorios plásticos que van a la misma basura que los desperdicios.

En mi experiencia, los americanos son sumamente obedientes y una buena campana de comunicación, creada por el país experto en comunicaciones, podría alterar significativamente el comportamiento de estos ciudadanos. Me pregunto que los esta deteniendo.

Orlando Convention Center

Estaban tocando Massive Attack por los parlantes del centro de convenciones de Orlando ayer en la manana. Del Blue Lines.

something i wrote on the plane

You know, I wasn’t really angry at all those things I wrote about last time. I dislike them, but that was not my true state of mind at the time. No, I was heartbroken and upset by something else: an unsolved dilemma of human relationships.

This I’ve bumped into before, and as my mother says, if you don’t resolve it now, it will only continue to drag by your side until you do. This is: how to disagree.

When I was upset at my old friend A for accusing me of lying about my cluelessness, I decided that our friendship was more important to me than insisting on making myself believed. But this was a small issue, and more importantly, a very personal one.

Is ideology personal?

“It had to be this way.”

“But the price was too high, I can’t accept it.”

“The price was low, the alternate outcome would have been devastating.”

“How can we know what would have happened?”

“Well, we can’t.”

This seems to be the only point to agree on.

The dilemma I have is this: as a self-defined liberal I want everyone to live their life independently, with their own free thoughts and opinions. This means I also want people who are radically opposed to my liberalism to have the exact same rights. This means that I want people to disagree with me, because their right to do so ensures my right to the same. But I can’t help feeling hurt when I see that, while we all seem to want a peaceful existence, some of us want to quash … no, some of us believe we have no alternative BUT to quash others freedoms in order to guarantee our own. This is the central point of my heartbreak, and I hope I am wrong about it, but I don’t think I am. Some of us prefer open meadows and others feel they have no choice but gated communities.

Postscript: I don’t think any of us are right. I don’t believe there is such a measurable thing as being right. Only ideas and opinions and routes, but no correct one and no pot of gold at the end for anyone, by the way.

Catharsis

Do you know what I hate?
I bet you don't.
I cannot stand it when people call their better-half their partner in crime. That is just so.... argh! It *sounds* like something very unique but so many people say it, it's just a big, ugly cliché, and thereby destroys the meaning of it the very second that you say it, you see what I mean? I cannot stand it.

And anyway, puh-leeze, these people commit no crimes. They don't even swear. What kind of fake lifestyle are you trying to convince us you live? Don't jest.

My problem is I hate a lot of stuff that people I love very much do and say. So I can't go into it in much detail here. I'm trying to be nice. I'm working really hard at it. As hard as lazy-Isabel-painter me can, anyway. Nice, Isabel. Nice kitty.

But I might as well also add that I strongly dislike the use of the phrase "I'm a visual person" (hear me grating my teeth). Again, it's such an overused ridiculous phrase. No, actually, you're just stupid and you can't understand when people talk to you so you need to pretend like you need to read it to get it.

AnywayS instead of anyway is very annoying, but I deal with it, because it's a losing battle.

People who drag their feet should be slapped in public.

Honkers.

You know? I don't even mind nails scratching on a blackboard. I consider myself a tolerant person.

But if the man who lives below me does not cease and desist playing his bongo (or is it the girl next door, I can't tell in this building), I'll... I'll...

do nothing.

Nostalgia vs lo Efimero

I miss certain routines, like going to the library in the basment of St. Ignatius of Loyola after mass. My mother -who rarely smiled back then- clearly adored the old ladies who volunteered as librarians. They're probably gone now.

Me gusta el arte pasajero. Me gustan los grafitti y las calcamonias, harto. Son el momento, el contexto. Ves lo que alguien trato de decir por un segundo y luego te das vuelta y ya no esta. Rajado, como esta a la que le tome una foto el anyo pasado en la calle Marie-Anne. Hoy solo queda la mitad.

Printemps et marriage

(castellano a continuacion)

The things that are keeping me away from my home computer lately:

- spring. Spring! It’s spring in Montreal, can you think of anything better? The trees are finally green, for real, and I’m right next to Lafontaine park, where the shades are all deep. From work I can see Mount Royal and it’s awesome.
- Work. We were recently sent a memo kind of enforcing something that was already in the employee manual, about not using instant messenger, or sharing iTunes or the internet during business hours. So, as always, I cut down but didn’t quit. You know what I mean?
- Back to back episodes of Law & Order, Criminal Intent and the season finale of CSI directed by Quentin Tarantino, ohmygod!! I broke free from its reign for a little, but I’m back on the TV smack. I’m saying now it’ll just be until the season’s final episodes of all the usual: Lost, the OC, Grey’s Anatomy, Desperate Housewives, in that order.
- Free trade coffee from Oxfam that I found at a super cool Loblaw’s in a mysterious place east of the Plateau called Angus. I think it’s called Angus; there are plenty of signs that say that, but like I said, I’d never seen this area before, and I’ve been all over this island. Maybe it’s “Lost”, teehee.
- Pre-wedding activities for Button’s, which will be followed by Anna’s. Tonight I’m going to have a little meeting with someone who’s already been an MC to get some help preparing for my own role as MC of Button & Nick’s reception. We’re meeting at the driving range in Nun’s Island. Again, I’m wearing a skirt. But not heels! I have never worn heels to the driving range, I must insist. Skirts, yes, heels, no. I wonder if they serve mimosas, since I don’t do beer.

Para ponerlos al dia, en parte, les cuento que no me estan pescando ustedes… Donde estan los mails contandome de sus vidas? Es que todo se acabo ya, y no somos mas amigos? Miren que no estoy siempre en messenger desde que en la oficina nos mandaron un memo pidiendo que desistieramos del uso del ancho de banda… les hice el favor de cortar mi messenger. Seria todo.

Los matrimonios en Canada son parecidos pero diferentes a los de Chile. Hay muchas mas cosas que hacer –y comprar- antes del gran evento. Por ejemplo, aparte de la noche de soltera –que eso si se hizo para varios de los matrimonios a los que fui en Santiago- este domingo fui a un bridal shower. Yo creo que las minas cuicas deben estar imitando este modelo alla no? Onda, vestidos bonitos y te en taza con las mamas y las tias? Se le regalan cosas a la novia; van puras mujeres. Desde cosas de bano hasta ropa interior que mas bien es un regalo para el novio, se entiende. Pero todo muy sutil, porque no es apropiado actuar como en la noche de soltera… Me la pase sirviéndole verduritas crudas con dip a todo el mundo. Colegio catolico de mujeres, mi largo entrenamiento en como parecer refinada sin serlo. Los looks de las otras invitadas variaron entre lo que probablemente era una imitación de Chanel hasta ropa usada, claramente. Pero esa era la hermana menor de la novia y tiene permiso para ser ella misma. Comimos chocolates hechos por la tia, sandwichitos, galletitas, todo chiquito, chiquita.

Hable con la prima de la novia, que me describio algunos matrimonios en Korea, donde invitan hasta a mil personas. Es decir, a todo todo el mundo que conocen. No me imagino como lo pagan, pero parece que se da plata solamente entonces uno paga su parte asi. Y, lo mas chocante en mi opinión, firmas un registro con la cantidad que diste! O sea que todos se enteran. Brrr!

Aca tambien se da plata como regalo. De hecho, estos novios, que se casan el 4 de junio, pidieron plata. Me carga dar plata porque no hay espacio para la creatividad, para lucirse con algo que te salio barato pero que parece mas caro, cachai? Pero bueno, el matrimonio no es mio, asi que hago lo que me piden no mas.

doomedbutenergetic:Top 7 Montreal Blog!

So, I figure this means at least 4 people voted for me... That is if I count 1 vote for 10th place, 2 votes for 9th place, 3 for 8th... and then me!

Who are you??? Half this blog is in Spanish anyway, haha.

Hilary, was that you? :P

Pretty cool, still. Surprising and cool. Of course, they put the name wrong. Not spelled wrong, but wrong blog name. It's Doomed But Energetic, not "Isabel Brinck". Who's Isabel Brinck??

****

Esto sí que es loco. Este blog salió séptimo entre los Mejores Blog de Montreal, según los lectores del semanario alternativo The Mirror. Sorprendente porque este es un blog personal al que evidentemente no le hago promoción ni está escrito "para ser leído" más que por los amigos. Pero bueno... uno pone las cosas en Internet y pierde el control. Puedo vivir con eso :)

Quizás hay un contingente de lectores hispanoparlantes? Misterios sin resolver...

Social

(English follows; not exact translation)

La vida social me ataca. Mayo es el mes. Deje botado el blog –que solo tres personas leen, pero son tres personas importantes- por andar en reuniones de damas de honor, por quedarme pegada en messenger con alguien, por tartar de dedicar mis ratos libres a pasar la aspiradora al menos mensualmente.

Pero aqui estoy nuevamente. Quiero mostrarles las fotos que mando mi mama de su reciente viaje a Buenos Aires, junto a su taller literario. Lo que hacen es leer y comentar. Un hallazgo de actividad para la senora Sarita. Y el viaje lleno de paseos organizados por ella, mejor aun. Leo es un signo organizador, de eso me acuerdo. Leo, Tauro, Acuario y Escorpion: los organizadores del zodiaco.

En todo caso, les cuento que estoy bien. En realidad muy bien. Después de desarmar mi puzle existencial en marzo, estoy juntando las piezas de nuevo. Siempre quedan mas bonitas después. Y por supuesto que la primavera y un proto-romance no hacen mal tampoco… No cuento mas detalles aca porque el blog es publico y esta parte de mi vida no. Debi haber sido famosa: “esta parte de mi vida es privada”.

Ayer salio el sol de una manera inedita este anyo en Montreal. Es una luz y una sensación que solo asocio a esta ciudad, a esta isla en un rio. Me hizo reconectarme con lo que sentia de nina: total conexión con las cosas a mi alrededor; sin el desapego de estos dias. Veo todo como mas de cerca, la pintura descascarada de alguna murulla, los tulipanes nuevos en colores fuertes, las texturas de las casas, de las veredas. Es realmente como estar inmerso en el aquí y el ahora, y eso es un estado que ligo fuertemente a mi infancia en Montreal. Creo que nadie se lo puede imaginar si no ha estado aquí en verano. Lastima que yo no sepa describirlo adecuadamente.

Quiero saber del resto. Por favor escríbanme al mail o dejenme un comentarito chico. Eso si, los comentarios me los firman por favor, porque estoy ASI DE CERCA de prohibir los comentarios anónimos. Los odio, aunque sean de mi mama en el 90% de los casos ;)

*Anoche sone con la Antonia, no me acuerdo que. *Que es de ti, Luisin Bombin? *Todos esperando el nacimiento de Tobi Marquez Guarda!

Just wanted to show these pictures my mother sent me from her recent trip to Buenos Aires with her literary workshop. They don’t write; they read and talk. It’s absolutely perfect for her. So here she is, the blond in black, for those who don’t know her. And the house you see belonged to an Argentinean writer, Victoria Ocampo. My mom organized a visit to the place. Isn’t it luxurious?

Up above, in the Spanish, I was saying how yesterday I felt the sun in a very particular Montreal way for the first time this year. It’s like nowhere else I’ve ever been and its effect is what I associate with what Montreal “is”. It’s a very here-and-now thing, where I feel immersed in everything going on around me. Suddenly the paint on the house, the texture of the walls, the sidewalks, the new tulips sprouting in orange-red and yellow, they all feel super connected to me, like that’s all that matters.

Oh! I remembered this scene in La Ciociara, Two Women, starring Sophia Loren and Jean-Paul Belmondo. It’s a wonderful, slightly painful movie about the Second World War. And there’s this scene after an air raid and possibly some bombs, where Sophia and Jean-Paul have fallen on the grass to keep safe, and then the noise stops and one of them looks up and is very close to the grass and sees a blade of it with a ladybug going along its way, like nothing ever happened. Do you know what I mean? It’s that.