Friends

No es que ande nostálgica, pero leí el blog de la Katie (http://travelingwithoutmoving.blogspot.com/) y me inspiró mis propios recuerdos de la época de la universidad y los años que siguieron a eso. Particularmente, y no sé por qué, cuando vivía en Emilio Vaisse. Un peak de algo?

Primero que nada, recuerdo que la Mariana vivía a la vuelta de la esquina y que después de que la Chi-k se fue de nuestra casa, yo pasaba ene tiempo donde la Mariana, para no estar sola. Cuando decidí vivir sola hace como un año y medio, mi punto de contraste era ésa época, en que no quería estar sola. Otros tiempos. Maratón de Friends en Sony. La primera vez que Carlos vio Friends y contra cualquier predicción, quedó enganchado. El video alternativo de Mi corazón, para la Camila.

Los tres en la cama, Friends, media hora de felicidad.

Hay un montón de recuerdos más, y en otro momento saldrán a la luz, pero por ahora es lo que hay en una foto sobre mi estante de libros: Mariana Ibáñez, Carlos Moena y yo, sonriendo y mirando la cámara. "El destino los unió".

Que lo estés pasando bien en Buenos Aires, Mariana. Como dicen los argentinos, no te mueras nunca!

Mr. Furley is dead

Christmas Revival

2006

Thanks for asking.

Those winds of discontent have blown over mostly now. I know they made me think about some things I will need to keep thinking about, but the worst is over, thank goodness.

I think I'm just much more of a homebody than I ever recognized before. Being away from my home, from my things and the way I've organized them around me, apparently isn't an allround positive experience for me. Maybe Tom's right and I am a little OCD ;) Just gonna wipe this spot before we go on...


Nope, I haven't found my ring. It's a killer, but at the same time I'm already moving on in my head. A plan of action, that's my prefered remedy. In this case, I was thinking that a ring is a commitment to myself. So if I definitely don't find it, I will need to set aside a bit of mullah and by myself another very nice and meaningful ring, as a renewed bond with Isabel Brinck. It's a lifetime thing, you know. Even when I hate me, I have to be with me. So I do best my best to like me.

Examples of fun things I'm planning to do with myself this year:

* a weekly commitment to yoga. This I have started, even if it means skipping all the Friday 5-7 for Dan. Sorry Dan, but I'll make it up to you in lyrics!

* a weekly commitment to writing. This I haven't started, but I'm trying to think of a good time for it. Promise.

Overall, I'm looking to push myself a little harder this year. I've been lazy: with my money (I've changed that already, looking towards my mom's visit this summer), with my time (see above), with my goals (more on this later). Welcome 2006! After living in the southern hemisphere, I definitely think the new year should begin in March and not January.

who's you, who's me?

Instability rears its ugly head.

Who's fault is this?

You know that line "it's not you, it's me"? How about when you're not sure. Should you always default to yourself? Maybe.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe yes, maybe no.

Isabel has no answers. She is feeling much more doomed than energetic.

She hopes that going home will help her get things sorted.

Why the hell am I writing in the third person?

chicago notes

* it's -20 C in Chicago. Funny how you underdress and think you can get away with it when you're away from home. Maude and I went for dinner last night: her without a hat, me in regular shoes. We would never have done that in Montreal, even in warmer weather than this!

* the news here is just as bad as can be. Everything is "sex predator alert!" "husband aquitted in wife's brutal murder!" "cheney, cheney, cheney!" And they don't even have TBS, shake shake shake.

* I'm off at 1pm today and going to visit the Chicago Art Institute, It's supposed to be really good. And at 2pm they have a "highlights" tour, which sounds good.

* I finally got my hair cut last night by a Lebanese hairdresser who told me falafel is *not* specifically Lebanese, why have I been kept in the dark for so long??

a ding ding

In 2000 I was the editor of a magazine called Lat. 33. The salary was good, the boss was bad. I went to work on my scooter and I didn't really wear any jewelery.

One day, the boss's friend, N.O., came to visit and brought along his box of rings. N.O. was a jewelery designer who lived by the beach. Each of his pieces was one of a kind.

Like I said, I wasn't a big fan of rings and things, but since he was the boss's friend I tried to be polite and had a close look at his wares. My favourite was a very geometrical silver ring, that was shaped like a lopsided square. A trapezoid if you will. It was incredibly comfortable, and I offered to buy it as long as I was able to pay for it in 3 parts, over the course of 3 months. N.O. said "I'll give you a discount". I said "no, please, no discount necessary, but please let me pay for it with 3 checks". "Ok, fine, but I'll also give you a discount!" "No, no, no, please, just..." "ok". Like Axel says, it was like two Aquarians trying to do business "take my money, please" "no, please, take *my* money".

And then it got worse because I noticed after a while that only 1 of the checks had been cashed. In other words, only one third of the payment. So what would an Aquarian do? I called N.O. long distance to ask if he had noticed that the other checks hadn't been cashed. N.O. had no idea. He said "I just give the checks to my dad and he takes care of them and deposits them in my account, I have no clue, but I'll look into it". "Ok, I'll do the same, have a closer look at my account, etc".

So much for that. I guess I got my discount after all!

So for 6 years I've worn this big, one of a kind, silver ring on my right ring finger. I have left it a couple of places a couple of times, but never too far and I always get it back sooner rather than later. I feel strange without it, and for years I didn't even remove it to go to bed.

So imagine my shock and fear when I realized on the day I was scheduled to fly to Chicago that I wasn't wearing it and couldn't find it. I *always* think I'm going to die when I travel, so this didn't help.

Where is my ring? I miss my ring so much, it's even made me think less about missing other things, like my apartment and my life. Just, please, WHERE IS MY RING?

Not Windy

Chicago has the same big city feel as New York, but without the pressure. There are those huge 1920s skyscrapers, full of elaborate details that you just don’t see anymore, lining streets like Michigan Avenue and the “Magnificent Mile”. It’s pretty gorgeous. Maybe I just like it so much because you don’t see anything like it anywhere in Canada. Toronto’s skyscrapers are all new and Montreal only has a couple of smaller buildings in that style, such as the Sun Life building or the apartments across from the Ritz.

Weird things about Chicago: I don’t see any city benches downtown and there’s an inordinate number of people canvassing. I didn’t stop to find out what they were asking for. Hmm, now I’m thinking maybe it’s related to the huge Church of Christ Scientist a block away from the Hyatt?

The weather’s been great, pretty much above zero the whole time. And sunny. No snow on the ground.

The hotel is a Hyatt. If you’ve been to one, you’ve been to all of them. The same layout in each room, right down to the awkward place they always choose to put their full-length mirrors.

I met with honorary Montrealers Jenn and Nick on Monday night, first for a bite at Bites and then to watch Mice Parade at the Empty Bottle. It was awesome! How fun to watch live music again, in a neighbourhood bar. The band looked like they were having such a good time, I wished I enjoyed my job half as much.

La Disfrazada

Este lugar adonde fuimos a bailar el viernes despues de la comida marroqui donde Lori es uno que se llama Zoobizarre que he mencionado antes.

Es extranisimo y como en los viejos dias de la Blondie, me parece uno de esos excepcionales espacios donde realmente puedes ser tu mismo sin que nadie te moleste. Claro, mientras "tu mismo" no sea lo mismo que se ve en cada club mainstream de cada barrio taquillero entre aqui y la calle Suecia, eso si...

La gente en Zoobizarre parece disfrazada, aunque me da la impresion de que para ellos estos no son disfraces. Me perdi una pelicula/performance que dieron ahi a las 10pm porque estaba en la comida, compartiendo un tenedor y una pipa hookah, como en el Alicia en el Pais de las Maravillas. Pero las estrellas/creadores de la peli/performance seguian ahi a las 3am. Una drag queen vestida con un body como de bailarina tap, y un tipo igualmente alto y flaco con polera blanca y jeans negros. Yo pare de bailar y me sente en el pequeno escenario, con mi espalda contra un parlante, para mirar sus siluetas en la pantalla del fondo. Ella me dio el programa de su pelicula. Ideal.

***

Aqui hay dos fotos de mi fiesta de cumpleanos, celebrada el 21 de enero (no es la fecha correcta pero al menos cayo en acuario) en un bowling muy cuatico de Montreal. Ademas, estabamos todos disfrazados. Adivinen quien es quien!