The One I Get Puked On

I'm on foot again ... two pulleys in my car's engine broke down, along with their base, all red lights turned on on the dashboard and i ended up driving another kilometer or so barely able to turn the driving wheel.
Awesome.

I said it earlier, i dont mind taking the bus, even though at 6pm it's definitely not the most pleasant experience. But let's be honest, it's winter here so people dont sweat that much so it's actually ok. Even after an 11.5 hours worth of work, standing on the pier. I even got to sit down so the 20 minutes were gonna be pleasantly rocking.

Well it WAS actually pleasant until the little kid i was seating next to started feeling sick. And he was signing his dad sitting behind me that he wanted to puke. And i thought, hey, no big deal, little guy is sitting by the open window, he's old enough to have common sense to puke at the window if needed.

Well i was wrong.
I was so very wrong.

Little punkhead stood up and puked his gutts onto me. Well on my lap and legs. And it ran down my socks and shoes. And it was gross. The power of his puke also covered the shirt of a guy standing next to me in the alley. I think we both laugh. I dont know why i thought it was funny.
Punkhead's dad immediately took his shirt off and handed it to me so i could "clean" myself, but really, i didnt care. I felt sorry for the kid since he'd been desperately trying to make his dad understood that he really DID want to puke.

The first thing i thought was, damn, do those things really only happen to me? Does it have to happen after my longest day of work, that very same day i'm exhausted and my legs are killing me? At least it's something funny to talk about to wrap up 2010.

Hope punkhead feels better =)

Whoopsy ... on Apologizing and Holiday Wishes

The least i can say is that December will not have been the most productive month there is. I'm talking blog wise. This is the 3rd post this month and there's only 3 days left to this month (and year) and i have no inspiration whatsoever.

There are 3 reasons to this lack of inspiration:
- i've been seriously sick hence wreck-tired
- i've had quite a fair amount of work (and no day off in 11 days)
- and i have a new boyfriend (it's been a month now)

And you all know that when i'm happy, i'm not productive when it comes to writing.

So it was just a little hi, passing by, to re-assure all of you who actually read this blog that i am still alive and somewhat kicking, that i am looking forward to welcoming this new year and while i'm at it, wish you all a fantastic 2011.

All the best =)

Painfully Exhausted

It sucks. I mean this is the holiday season, work is finally booming, it's almost time for present unwrapping and for once i'm actually excited about it and i'm sick. Like bad-ass sick. It's my 2nd bronchitis in 3 months and i'm currently dying.

Since it's the 2nd time in such a short amount of time, i've been given some super powerful drugs that make me nauseous or hallucinating. And no, it's no fun.

My chest is so sore from the coughing, my entire body aches, i feel like i've been run over by one of the those packed-to-the-roof-i'm-way-over-the-speed-limit city bus that passes around the corner of my house, i can barely breathe and i'm just exhausted.

I need want to be on top again to enjoy this jolly time! I can't believe i'm actually looking forward to my Christmas dinner and Chirstmas day.

There are only 2 good things in my life right now:  i got my cat back today and my boyfriend is the sweetest pie of the world ...

Happy Christmas y'all =)

Me and ... Fraggle Rock

A few days ago, i got back on Facebook ... I know, i know shame on me. Whatever. After saying that i've been feeling anaesthetized for the past week or so, i felt i could go back safely. And i did. And guess what?

I felt nothing.

But that's not really the topic here.

So a few days ago, i read on Facebook a little "favor" a lot of people were asking for: change your profile picture for a cartoon image from your childhood to protest againt violence towards children.
I honestly don't think that changing my profile picture on Facebook is gonna do any beaten kid any good but hey, doesnt cost me to do it anyway. So i did it.

Well.

from left to right: back row: Mokey, Gobo, Red - front row: Wembley, Boober

It was supposed to be from Nov. 23rd through Nov. 30th and it took me like 3 days to figure out, shit, what cartoon really marked my childhood, considering i've never been a tv person.
And the only one i could remember off was Fraggle Rock. And then i realized that it is NOT a cartoon. It's like a muppet show. But i thought, fuck it, it is something kids watch, it is something I watched when i was little and that made me dream of finding a hole in my wall and tunnels that lead to Fraggle Rock and meet all the characters and shit and dreading to bump into a Gorg or that one of the gorgs would actually eat a fraggle cuz you know when you're a kid you don't know for sure the good ones are gonna make it and the bad ones are gonna loose. And i was having nightmare about those gorgs and i so wanted to be in Fraggle Rock and obviously i was identifying myself to one of them even though back then i didnt really understand why this one more than another one ...

shit they're still scary :s from left to right: self proclaimed King and Queen of the universe and their son Junior

Who am i?
Oh come on! If you're read this blog more than once, or if you actually know me in person, you already know now don't you. I'm RED =)
Here's a quick description (from my dear beloved wikipedia) of who she is (hence who i am) ...

Red has an exuberant and athletic nature; she is one of the best swimmers among the Fraggles. She is also highly cynical of her friends' plans and ideas and often teases Gobo about his Uncle Traveling Matt (occasionally yawning while he reads the postcards). Red, like Gobo, wants to be in control, and there is often friction between them over who should be the one in charge. During the course of the show, Red and Mokey become roommates. Red has a yellowish orange hue, red hair, and wears a red sweater.

She wants to be in charge, doesnt like authority, is sarcastic ... I mean she even have red-hair. And she's also the goofball of the pictures (i can't seem to find one single picture online where she looks "decent").

So for about a week now, i've changed my profile picture to Red's picture (her name is the french version of Fraggle Rock was Maggie) and i now remember that a friend of mine actually said once that i even look like her (i mean, ok, there might be some resemblance in characters but physically, excuse me, but no. I'm not yellow, i dont have long hair, let alone pigtails and i'm not like, OK FINE i look like her ... shit (** sight ** heavy sight**))

So now, every time i've been checking my FB or my farm, i've seen the cartoonized me and want so bad to get the collection of Fraggle Rock on DVD.

Dear Santa, i've been a very good girl (smile heavily loaded with meaning) - even when i've been naughty i've been very good at it.
I WANT FRAGGLE ROCK ON DVD.

And i still havent figured out how to post a video so anyway, there you go ... just the way i used to watch it ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SK5DTAZ5pq4

Entrez dans la danse, les soucis n'ont pas de chance
La musique commence, ca c'est fraggle rock
Oubliez la danse, le travail c'est votre chance
Que les jeux commencent, ca c'est fraggle rock
Ca c'est fraggle rock!

AWESOME =)

I'm Outta Love

I believe this is gonna be one of these posts where everybody feels or thinks i'm 10 miles down into depression's abyss but i actually feel pretty good.

I've mentioned this in the past but i came to realize yesterday that it still applies today: i am out of love. Which in my own words, would translate as i have lost faith in love. Completely.

Before i get people throwing themselves at my throat telling me that there is no such thing as being out of love, let me explain a few things.
I have loved in the past. And i truly hope i can say i've been loved as well. Although to be honest, i'm not too sure about that. But that's not really the point here. I think i am a very dedicated person, especially when i have the hots for someone. I give myself up completely and that may be the reason why i tend to end up hurt. Or empty.
It's not that i'm trying to overdo it or make you love me. It's just the way i am. If you're the person who share my life, i'll give it all to you. You can take it or leave it. I'll do it anyway. That way, i know that if the relationship fails, at least i've done and given everything i could and that my everything was not enough for that person in particular.
Problem is ... i tend to lose myself in the process. Giving all that is to the other person, not expecting anything in return. Ever.
And when i get something back, it makes me uncomfortable cuz i'm not accustomed to receive love that way.

Moving on.

As you all know already, i recently broke up with a man i was very keen on for whatever reasons that i will not mention here. A mere 5 weeks later, he apparently already moved on with his life and well, good for him.
I may be wrong but i am still convinced that our relationship has not ended just yet. I mean i believe we still have to walk along together for a while. Maybe in a few months, maybe in a few years, whenever. I so believe we do. But now is not the time.
I thought that hearing he's dating someone else would crush me. It didnt. And when i sat down to "analize" what were my feeling about it all, i was surprised to realized i felt nothing.

But i mean ... NOTHING.
I was blank.

No pain, no hard feeling, no ill-being, no resentment, no regret, no joy, nothing.

And then when i got to talk about it with a friend of mine, after the first sensation of anger i felt knowing that he's dating someone when he said he wanted to be alone for a while, i realized that damn, i didnt really care about it. I felt empty inside.
Emotionally, i feel empty inside.

I feel like nothing can reach me anymore. I feel like my heart is steel-cold and unaccessible. I feel like no pain or ache can get to me anymore. I feel anaesthetized. And i like the feeling about "feeling no pain".

I also realized that i have lost faith in love. I have lost faith in my ability to find someone who will value me for what and who i am, not for what i do for him or her. I have lost faith in relationships. I feel i can't give love anymore.
It seems i can't feel pain anymore.
I ran out of love.
I feel i can enjoy life as it comes.
I have no expectations, thus no disappointments.
I've resigned myself to live and let live.

And the best thing about it all, i'm actually fine with it.




"Love is the wisdom of the fool and the folly of the wise"
S. Johson

Hell-thy

Comfort food, as the name says, is made to comfort you. And a double decker nutella sandwich with a coke for dinner does just that: it comforts me.

I've been needing comforting for a while now, except that i dont get it when i need it, i dont take it when i get it, and i pretty much block everything that comes my way especially if that something will make me feel happy.

I dont mean to.

I just do it by habit. I dont even notice i'm doing it. I'm sabotaging my happiness.

I hope someday someone will make me change, will help me change.

But how can someone not give up on me if I've already given up myself?
I just can't do it anymore.

I wish it would all go away.

 

I Have A Twin Brother

We were not born the same day (even though almost)
Nor the same year
Nor from the same mother
Nor in the same country ...

But the more time we spend together, the more i'm convinced we have this we're-from-the-same-womb kinda relationship.

We think the same, act the same, have the same ups and downs, feel the same, have the same tastes, have that same affection for one another and most of the time, dont even need to finish our sentence to understand eachother. We dont need to talk most of the time, just a look suffices.

We're so alike it's even creepy sometimes.

If we're not really twins, then we must have been in a past life. There is no other explanation.

Love you so very much =)

WTF Is Going On ??

A few posts back, i swore to god that i would never ever drink again. EVER.

There's "ever" in whatever ...

I went out Saturday night, first, to watch Manny Pacquiao's box fight against Mexican Antonio Margarito (who got beaten the crap out of by the way), then to check out a local strip club (never been to one so that was long due) and ended up dancing the night away, including banda music with my 2 lesbian friends at a gay club.

By the time i arrived back home, it was already 6:30am, sun was rising and i was moderatly drunk, the cool morning air not helping whatsoever to drop down my coming hangover. I slept the entire day sunday and had the most un-productive day that someone can possibly have.

What wasnt planned was that i would be invited to the inauguration of a beach/lounge/gay bar downtown on Monday evening, thanks to my super social-skilled friend Mau. Since we arrived as late as can be, we had only a few canapés down our throat but compensated with excessive refills on white wine and champagne. Oh yeah.

So by the time they were closing the bar, we were so very well on our way to one long night ... And we sure did (have one long night).

After making a complete fool of myself at the restaurant we had dinner to by spilling half of my plate of pasta on my skirt, we checked pretty much every single gay bars and clubs of town and ended up in the same place as 2 nights prior (for me).

You do pretty crazy stuff in a gay club but for the sake of our story, i'll just say we danced the night away yet again. Until it was 6am AGAIN.

It was 10am when we finally laid down, so a good 26 hours after i actually woke up the day before and i just couldnt sleep ... At all. Not even remotely tired, not dozzing off, nothing.
So since my dear friend was lost in what seemed delicious oblivion, i decided to take off and get back home. Maybe i could get some rest since i was gonna be in my own bed.

Well i was wrong.

It is now 10:10pm, i'm starting my 39th hour awake, alive and somehow kicking. I've cleaned by bedroom, swept the floor, mopped the floor as well, did the dishes, checked my farm, read a few chapters of a book, took a steaming shower, drank an herbal tea, took some sleep-inducing pills and nothing. I am still wide awake.

THIRTY NINE HOURS STRAIGHT AND COUNTING.

I mean WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?

Say "no" to drugs ... they're EVIL.

My Mom Found My Sex Toys

GASP

Oh yes she did.

Just before they arrived here in Mexico for a 12 days stay, i had carefully put my sex toys away, that is to say at the very back of my highest closet's shelf. I knew that with my parents here, chances of using them were nonexistent.

Well i should have known better.

While they were here, i took advantage of my dad being quite a handy man to fix stuff in my house, such as curtain rails, kitchen cupboards, fixing a million stuff and so on. While he was doing all that, i found the energy to paint my living room and kitchen. It was more than long due.

But since my parents were sleeping in my bedroom, i had told them that i'd paint the bedroom walls once they're gone so they wouldnt have to sleep in the living room or in the bedroom with paint smell.

I dont know what my mom did or WHY but she thought that painting my closet was also a tall order (and an urgent one with all that) so she EMPTIED my entire closet.

GASP
GASP
GASP

I didnt realized it until she had put everything back inside the following day. Which was one day before they would be departing. And there is no freaking way she couldnt see them. They were neatly stored in their case and my mom opens every single thing she finds to check what she can or cannot trash.

They left today.

First things i checked when i came back home after dropping them at the airport were my toys. My entire closet is upside down, nothing is where it used to be and i was dreading she had thrown them away. But no. They were still in their case, still neatly accomodated and in a complete different location which means she had seens them and/or touch them and just the thought of it makes me uneasy.

She freaked out when she found out, a few years ago, that i have a piercing in my tongue. Now she found my sex toys and most likely also bumped into my lubrifiant bottle when she cleaned the bathroom ... I'd PAY to know what she thought at that very moment.

She must think i'm this depraved, debauched, perv sex addict ...

Which i am ...

I'm Not Dead

At least not yet.

My parents are in town, staying at my place, living me with close to no time at all for myself. And since my mom is already freaked out about the amount of time i'm spending online, i dont want to give her more reasons to freak out than the ones she already has ...

In a few more days, i'll blog again, hopefully with something spicy, witty and funny =)

I Have Hot Water!

Close to 6 months after moving into my new house, i am now the proud owner of a brand new boiler AND a gaz connection through the wall (and not through the open window as i used to have up until now).

I mean how insanely outrageous this is?

This means that:
- i can finally take a hot shower in the morning before i got to work instead of giving it an hopeful shot and thinking "what the fuck was i thinking??" the second the icy cold water hit me
- i can take a hot steamy shower at 4 in the morning after a night of insanely crazy wild sex (that i dont get anymore)
- i can wash the month worth of dishes with the decent hope all the stuck grease will be removed instantly (they've been soaking in for days, even with ice cold water, it'd go away!)
- i can sweat my ass off cleaning inside and outside the house and coming out of the bathroom smelling like a blooming rose without fearing i'd get yet another pneumonia!

But the real truth is, i didnt need hot water to do more cleaning ... jaja, who was i kidding? I mean no matter how tough i can be, november is definitely a month you need hot water here. Even if it's Mexico, even if it's the Pacific Coast. I mean, it gets chilly ...

And how was i supposed to receive my parents without that minimum amount of comfort?

Woo freaking hoo!

So What?

Splitting up with someone you're convinced you should be with is hard. I know it was the right decision but it doesnt make it any easier.

People don't want to hear you whine all the time, less of it all about your love life. There is always someone to tell you, oh, come on now, get over it/him, he's an ass, he missed his chance, you deserve better, you'll find someone better, if it's meant to happen it will, he's no match to you and BLA BLA BLA.

What do they know?

I dont want to get over him, i dont think he's an ass, he definitely still has a chance, i dont think i deserve better (or worse as a matter of fact), i think he's perfect, i hope it'll happen again and i believe he's a match for me.

But he needs time.

Time for a kitty cat to lick his wounds and heal his heart.

I'm sad ... and hurt.

And putting up a smiling face to the world is the hardest, toughest thing for me to do. But i can't be carrying the weight of it all the time. Life goes on. I'm alive still. Everything happens for a reason even if i have no freaking clue what the damn reason is right now.

Last night, a friend of mine told me to listen to Pink's song "so what?". Told me it helps him when he feels blue and lonely after a relationship ends. I retorted that i was more in the "sober" mood, wondering how could i feel this good sober?

And then this morning, i got his song stuck in my head ... So consequently, his way of seeing life in tough times ... And i must admit, to my biggest surprise ... it DID cheer me up ...

So, so what?
I'm still a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't need you
And guess what?
I'm havin' more fun
And now that we're done
I'm gonna show you tonight
I'm alright!
I'm just fine
And you're a fool
So, so what?
I'm still a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't want you tonight

If only i could actually CONVINCE myself of what i'm singing ...

But as i said ... life goes on ... and while i'm waiting, might as well have some fun =)

PS: Pink does get back with her husband in the end, right? ...

Alone I Break

I've been sick like a pig since yesterday ... couldnt stay at work, had to call the doc so he could give me stronger meds, had a friend of mine bringing me said-meds.
I'm coughing my lungs out, my chest hurts like i've been hit by a truck, i have fever, i passed out once this morning, puked the little food i had managed to ingest today, had hallucinations and can barely stand.

Some pains go beyond words.

I have never felt this lonely in a million years.

And then one song came to my head - here it is:

Alone i break - by KORN
 
Pick me up
Been bleeding too long
Right here, right now
I'll stop it somehow

I will make it go away
Can't be here no more
Seems this is the only way
I will soon be gone
These feelings will be gone
These feelings will be gone

Now I see the times they change
Leaving doesn't seem so strange
I am hoping I can find
Where to leave my hurt behind
All the shit I seem to take
All alone I seem to break
I have lived the best I can
Does this make me not a man?

Shut me off
I'm ready, heart stops
I stand alone
Can't be on my own

I will make it go away
Can't be here no more
Seems this is the only way
I will soon be gone
These feelings will be gone
These feelings will be gone

Now I see the times they change
Leaving doesn't seem so strange
I am hoping I can find
Where to leave my hurt behind
All the shit I seem to take
All alone I seem to break
I have lived the best I can
Does this make me not a man?

Am I going to leave this place?
What is it I'm running from?
Is there nothing more to come?
(Am I gonna leave this place?)
Is it always black in space?
Am I going to take its place?
Am I going to win this race?
(Am I going to leave this race?)
I guess God's up in this place?
What is it that I've become?
Is there something more to come?

More to come




PS: i still dont know how to insert a video here but you can check it on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ryfwfc_946w

I Miss You

It's been 2 days.

It feels like 2 years.

Wonder if my asthma attack has anything to do with it?

Bye Facebook

Today, i have made the HUGE decision to get rid of my facebook account. Well, i'm not getting 100% rid of it cuz i can't face just yet going through all my pictures and photo albums and save them on my computer.

Today i have come to the conclusion that social networking is affecting my well being in a way that i didnt think possible and i have thus decided to give up this addiction.

I have gotten rid of it on my blackberry, i've erased it from my navigation's history as well as from my favorite web pages. I will not let an addiction ruin rule my life ...

I AM BREAKING FREE.

PS: For those of you still willing on keeping in touch with me or wanting to share links and/or videos, my email is still up and kicking ... At least, i'll be able to not read what hurts me most ...



After 12 Days of Blissful Happiness ...

... blueness caught up with me ...

I guess happiness is not meant to last forever.

Damn.

I've Just Married People

Well, kinda.

It sounds surreal for a person like me to say something like this since i dont really believe in the "happily ever after" nor am the kinda person who'd completely lose it over a bouquet's color or the material used for the "chemin de table".

I work for a company that apart from selling tours, also sell wedding packages.
And i must say, my colleague who's in charge of that particular part is doing an AMAZING job with the flowers, the decorations, the organization and most of it all, with dealing with neurotic brides.

How the hell did i end up on the other side of the altar, virtually marrying people then?
Cuz on sunday's wedding, half of the groom's family was from Quebec and speak no other language than french.

God damn them.

So my colleague and friend asked me if i wouldn't mind stepping in and repeat after the minister ... but in french.
And i said "i do".

So here was i, rehearsing my lines in a language i dont speak that well anymore, gathering myself together to pronounce 2 people husband and wife in front of an audience.
Needless to say i was a nervous wreck.
But that was nothing compared to the groom's state. And when he said "oh wow" when he saw his soon-to-be wife walking down the aisle, i was so ready to shed a tear. And i thought, jeez, this isnt my wedding, i dont even know these people and i'm that emotional? Holy crap.

I always said i'd never get married. Well ... seeing the emotional wreck i could become during a wedding that isnt even mine surely didnt make me want to change my mind.

Or maybe it was because i felt so sorry for the groom who's bride was looking like she was having the worse time of her life. I dont know really. But one thing is certain ... weddings are really not my cup of tea.

I Am Writing Again

I mean i am writing again for real, with a pen and paper. Yesterday, for the first time in MONTHS (last time if i recall was in january this year), i grabbed my diary and started writing. And the most amazing of it all, is that i wrote in FRENCH.
THAT hadnt happen in YEARS. I think last time i wrote a line in french in a diary was back in 2006. So that's an eternity ago.

Something has changed in me over the past few days. Or more exactly, something my psy said made me click. That was on monday. I havent stopped smiling since. I'm feeling happy. But i mean a "happy" i can't explain. Everything seems to fall into place, i sleep like a log, i've found the pleasure of writing again (and i did write for about 2 hours yesterday so my wrist was KILLING me this morning), i cant stop smiling like an idiot, i even found an idea of outfit for Halloween when i normally NEVER even want to go out that day and i'm actually excited about it, nothing seems to bother me anymore ...

So i wonder ... is that what normal people feel? Is is gonna last? Do i have a choice? Can i be this happy as long as i want to?

I'd like to believe i have the power to feel that way ... and guess what?
I actually think i do.

  

Internet Has Never Failed Me

... so far!!

When i spent a week vacation in Playa del Carmen last month, i bumped into an animal i had never ever seen in my entire life. Never seen it on TV, in books, let alone in real life. It was looking like a marmot or a squirrel but as big as a badger, with no tail and so shy it was basically impossible to get a close shot picture.

And i got back home without knowing what that animal was. I asked some of my animal-expert friends but how do you precisely describe an animal you've only seen from far away and without a picture of it? I mean i have a lot of faith in my friend's knowledge but i dont really believe in miracles either.

Well today, i finally got a name for it. Looks like my dear friend Tim didnt forget about that little bugger and he sent me a quick text this morning with only 9 words that lightened my day: "the name of the animal you saw is tzereque".

As soon as i got home, i checked on google images and that was it. That was so it. So then i did what i always do in such a situation ... i rush to WIKIPEDIA to get more info about it all. 
I'm not gonna even try to describe the nervous knot that formed in my stomach when i got an error message on the screen saying that that noun did not exist, nor in english, nor in spanish.
Back to google. I found another spelling "sereque" ...
Wiki still doesnt know any of it.
Damn Wikipedia, you've never ever failed me so far, what's the matter with you today?

But that was without counting on the wonders of the Internet. Digging a little here and a little there, and i managed to found the latin name of the damn animal. And i mean if an encyclopedia doesnt recognize a latin name, then i'd known for sure that internet would have failed me big time.

So there i had it: a dasyprocta agouti or Mexican Agouti. That's the name of the little animal that intrigued me so much in Playa del Carmen. And i even learnt they are related to Guinea pigs!

What a wonderful world of technology we're living into!
I love the 21st century!

Leave A Comment

I've been writing a blog for almost a year and a half now. And over the months, i've been following more and more people, blogs i found interesting, or entertaining, blogs of people i secretly admire or envy or blogs i simply enjoy reading because of the wicked style or content. Now over the past few WEEKS, i've been "receiving" comments from people i dont know who read one of the posts i wrote. How did they get to my blog eludes me and even though i'm dying of curiosity, i won't ask them. I think it's just awesome to read the words of a complete stranger commenting on my own very personal words.

What i wanted to say tonight is that there is nothing as powerful as words. I have suscribed to this blog called Drop A Love Bomb through which every week, the entire community write cheering comments to someone in high need of cheering, love and comfort. Well tonight i've come to realize how much it does to receive an email or a comment from a person who doesnt know you but still takes the time to write something nice on YOUR blog.

I'm not gonna beg you guys who read these lines to comment on each and every post i publish on this blog. But if you do like what you read, if it cheered up your day or made you smile, then please, take 2 minutes to let me know. You have no idea how much of an ego boost it is for me - and to be truly honest with you, i'm the kinda person who badly needs it.


  

Comfort Food At Its Best

It's been DAYS that i've had bad ass cravings for Nutella. And this is something (amongst a thousand others) that i very rarely allow myself to buy cuz let's be honest, at my age, it goes straight to the butt (and stay there until the end of time). Well today is a new day for me. A day i start taking care of myself, a day i stop feeling guilty about it all. I've started a therapy. But that's not the topic here (that topic will surely have a post of its own soon enough).
So tonight, after much struggling and debating with myself, i thought fuck it, i'm going to Walmart to get my Nutella. And i did.
The biggest pot they sell. Costs a fortune but i dont care.
And since Bimbo has stopped making their fabulous Bimbo Kid bread, i'm savouring my Nutella fix with the next best thing after bimbo kid : hot dog bread.
And a coke.

I said i wouldnt be drinking pops anymore or eat junk food.
Well.
Cravings are cravings. And holding them back for 4 days is punishment enough.

And after i'm done with the nutella hot dogs, i'll be having strawberry with whipped cream. Cuz i bought that too.

It's comfort food at it's best.

Do i need to be comforted tonight? Honestly, not really. But my psy asked me "what do you need to feel better?"
And THAT is what makes me feel pretty damn good tonight.

If i could have sex too, it'd be the icing on the cake ...

Me and ... Batman

Today was one of those days when it rains so hard you can't even see the other side of the streets and there is so much wind the water accumulated on the streets is making waves big enough to surf. Added to that a collapsed bridge a few weeks ago and traffic gets even crazier than normal. Which was the perfect excuse to go wait for the worse of the situation to go away at my boyfriend's house ... Jaja. Tous les prétextes sont bons!

That said, i headed home around 11:30pm hence arriving home 20 minutes later, thanks to no traffic at all. And that's when it all happened. To ME. Again.

I was quietly sitting at my computer, getting ready to harvest my grapes in my farm watch a movie when i realized that batman has made his way inside my living room without being invited. So no, i'm not Robin, not planning on becoming his assistant either. Yes i WAS wearing a cloak cause the simple THOUGHT of a flying thingy touching me brings me the creeps. And then what the fuck do you do when you have a 30cm wide bat soaring around your living room. I mean COME ON.

Why does that kinda shit always happens to ME?
Why does it always happen when i'm alone? or when it's late at night and i can't call anybody to the rescue?
Why don't i have a DOOR to my bedroom?
What about if the bat gets IN my bed?

And most important question: WHERE the hell did it go?




PS: if bat issue is not solved by the time i'm going to bed, i'm sleeping in the car ...

PS2: i wanted to put a picture of a real bat but i mean seriously, you've seen how ugly and disgusting this animal is? and it's FLYING on top of it all! I dont mind it outside but inside MY house, it's just too much. There is really no need to create monsters for movies, i mean some animals really are dreadful. Or is it just me?

This Has Got To Stop

What has?
My Facebook addiction. I mean this is getting ridiculous. I'm taking that being on vacations and having WAY too much time on my hands doesnt help either but still. I have my FB page open all day long, checking who's doing what every 5 minutes, accepting all the gifts other losers like me send me on farmville, sending them gifts back so i can finish building up my stable, checking pictures of people i dont care about in the first place, filling up my head with shit, especially the illusion that all those wonderful people have an amazing life in incredible places doing outstanding stuff, having the time of their life while i'm alone like a rat at home.
And to add some masochism to it all, i now have facebook on my blackberry with notifications and shit, just to make sure i dont lose one single stupid comment someone made on some brainless stuff i wrote or a picture i've been tagged in.

THIS has GOT
TO
STOP.

NOW.

Facebook is NOT real life. I MUST accept the fact that it is a complete UTOPIA to think that my FB friends have a better life than mine, do better stuff than i do, have more fun than me, meet nicer people than i do and are better than i am. They don't.

I am not saying i am better than anybody else. But i have a great life, a lot of people i know also do. But this jealousy i've been feeling is based on nothing more tangible than a few pictures or comments that can so easily be altered and tampered. The fact that I mean every word i write doesnt mean everybody else does. I've met a lot of people in my life trying to convince themselves they're having a blast when they really dont. Isnt it what we all do? You're down and blue and someone asks you, how are you? and you answer, i'm fine.

Maybe i should try to quit? Yeah well no, i dont think that'll happen anytime soon! An addiction is something you need therapy to overcome. And guess what? I dont have the balls to start one. Just because i know how screwed up i am, just because i'm sure it'll make me realize there is so much more than my incapacity on being happy and my gift to torture myself with digging into my friend's facebook life just for the sake of rubbing it in ...

Facebook is the tabloid of people you know. You can get to think that what you write or say or publish or post matters to them but truth is, people only really care about themselves. There is only but a few who truly care about you and those are the ones you dont talk to on social networks.





PS: before this post backlashes on me, i am NOT depressed. I am fine. Really. I have been down a bit lately, because it's always like that for my b-day and x-mas. I know where my problems come from. I'm just too coward to face them and deal with them. Being able to figure out what affected me so bad has weakened me greatly, making it harder for me to deal with simple day to day issues we all have to go through with. But the good thing is, there is always a bottom to a hole. Eventually, you touch it and the only way out is up :)

In 24 Hours ...

At that very same time, i'll be a year older. I will have spent most of my evening and night watching people getting drunk or high at a pool party one of my very good friends is having for HIS birthday today, i will have talked to my parents and probably some other people and have listened to their congratulations and cheers, i will have received at least a few emails to wish me the best, several messages on my Facebook's wall for the same reasons, thousands of pictures will be taken, and drunkenly published, i will get hugs and kisses, i will receive a call from a friend from work who really want to go out have a drink tomorrow night, i will most likely not blow any candle or open any present cuz i'm not turning 8 anymore, i will realize that i might not be exactly where i want to be in my life, just like when a new year is starting.

I'm turning 33.

It depresses me.

Bathtime

My dog is sooooo french. She doesnt like taking baths. I mean what is wrong with her? It's 31°C outside, she stinks like she's never seen water before so it was high time for a shower. And she should know it!
I dont know if other dog owners experience the same problem i have with my dog but trust me, it's hard work. Don't take me wrong, Niki LOVES water. She loves swimming in the river, she loves the mud, she loves splashing around she just doesnt like soap. And by soap i mean bath. Cuz she likes soap alright she eats half of the one i'm putting on her!
Anyway, today was bath day. I said it the second i came back from holidays, this little bitch needs a bath!

Unfortunately, in order for me to bathe my dog, it's a whole psychological process i have to go through, getting ready emotionally and physically, making her think this is not what she thinks it is that is about to happen, watering the plants first, so she thinks, naa, water is not for me, etc, etc. But then when i take her collar off, she knows. And she starts worming around and try to escape.

And that's when things are getting even trickier. I have to wedge her between my legs, start by washing the front (head, neck, shoulder, upper back, front legs), i take advantage and do it twice and then, even trickier, turn around, wedge her again so i can wash the back (lower back, back legs and tail).

Problem is, she tries to escape all the time, she's covered in  soap so extremely slippery and today, she just escaped my grasp. And there she was, running in the garden half covered in soap, shaking herself to get it off but it doesnt come off. So she found a great way of trying to get the soap off of her: rolling herself in the dirt. AAAAAH.

That's when i thought: there is no way a dog less than half my weight is gonna rule this place. I waited till she was looking the opposite direction, grabbed her by the neck like her mom would have, dragged her back to where my dog-wash shit was, wedged her tighter between my legs and rinced her profusely.

And let her escape afterwards. She ran like a maniac all over the garden, probably to dry herself up. Since it's hot and her towel is in the wash, that was an interesting way of doing so.

And now she's whining at the door to get in. Mmm, i'll have her wait a little more. I wouldnt like her to think she actually gets what she wants when she wants it.

  

PS: and no, it is not a picture of my well behaved dog. It's already complicated enough to bathe her on my own, taking a picture of the process is virtually impossible.

My Odyssey

I just came back from vacation. I mean today. And even though there is SO MUCH i'd like to talk about, especially with all the incredible stuff i've done, there is one thing that kinda cover it all up: it's my travelling. And not just my travelling back home. No no, my entire travelling time for that particular trip.

People say i'm funny. Or that i write funny stuff. Well read the following. You'll probably find it hilarious (sense the heavy sarcasm).

I started my trip by booking with Mexicana de Aviacion. As most of you know cuz i mentioned it already, they had the good idea to go bankrupt 4 days before my actual flight, putting me in quite some dilemma. Booking a flight 4 days before D day doesnt give you many options. And even though Interjet still had room, they could only fly me back to Guadalajara. I say, hey, it's better than nothing, it's just 5 hours bus ride, i can take the night one, sleep like a baby and arrive back home as fresh as a blooming rose.

So there was i, in my Interjet plane. I have nothing against the company, they have a great service on board and really cool personal (on board and on land). But there is a bar in their seats that killed my lower back. And i tried 7 different ones and they all have it. So if whomever designing those seats actually read those lines, please, do something about it. YOUR SEATS ARE AWFUL.

Flying doesnt scare me. I've been flying since i'm too young to remember, across France, across Europe, transatlantic, across Mexico, through the States and then some. When we're about to take off, or to land, or when we're in the middle of turbulence, i am not thinking oh shit we're gonna crash, oh shit the plane is gonna set up on fire, oh shit a lightning is gonna hit the plane, no. That doesnt really cross my mind. The only time i've thought about it, i was like, well, the probability of dying in a plane crash is considerably less than dying in a car accident, i drive my car pretty much every day whereas i dont fly every day and let's be honest, if the plane is gonna crash, the only good thing is, you know for sure your death will be quick and most likely painless. I mean what are the odds of coming out alive of a plane crash? But anyway.

All that to say that on Interjet planes, they have a webcam through which you can see what i guess the pilot himself can see: the landing strip, the lines on the floor, the lights on the sides, the rain etc etc. And to be honest, i found that a lot creepier than any comment on "in case of pressure loss in the cabin, oxygen masks will fall automatically in front of you ..." I dont like to be driven and seeing how not straight the pilot is going is not helping me feeling nice and comfy on my seat. I had to close my eyes. But then damn, i know the screen is there so i want to see. You know the way you always want to see what terrifies you or what horrifies you or what makes you want to puke. Well that. Especially since they only put it on take off and landing. I'm not gonna enter into details of the crazy stuff that went through my head while i was watching the screen but i can tell you it involves one recurrent question: what if i see another plane in that little video? (no comment)

I had a connecting flight in Toluca. The hostess at the check in told me: it's only 25 minutes but it's the same plane so no worries. So first thing i asked the air hostess when i sat at my seat was what was gonna happen in Toluca. And she said, oh, no, nobody stays in the plane, you'll have to go to the terminal and check with our land staff.
O_o
Oh sweet lord. How do i do that in 25 minutes?
I decided not to think about it until it was actually time to think about it.
And when it was time to think about it, the captain said: people travelling to Cancun please stay in the plane, we'll come pick up your boarding pass once all other passengers have disembarked. I almost went to his cabin to give him a hug.

The arrival in Cancun, the way time share people assault you, the way taxi people assault you, damn, i hate being a tourist for that. My friend was waiting for me, i was worry-free. Finally.

During my stay over in Playa del Carmen, i heard from many people how bad rain has been in PV. One bridge had collapsed just the day before i left and apparently, things werent going any better. More bridges collapsed, rain was so intense there were floods, and mudslides and then the big bad news: HIGHWAY 200 IS CLOSED TO TRAFFIC UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. Which means: with NO DATE of when there will be hope to go through.
And guess what road i was planning on taking on my way back to PV. Highway 200 of course. That's the fastest easiest "directest" way to go to PV from Guadalajara. And guess what. Well there is no more road. 3 days before the end of my vacations and i was stressing up. Yeah because i'm like that. This is the worse possible way of ending a vacation: not knowing how the hell you're gonna get back home.

I had my best friend on it for me, checking with the local authorities, with the bus companies, alternative routes and shit and giving me updates via text messages every 4 hours. On Thursday, the day i was going to fly back, she called me and said: highway 200 is opened to buses again.
HALLELUJAH.
But the knot in my stomach was still there. I'll believe it when i'm in the bus back home. Until then, i guess i'll stress some more.

My flight was a 8pm. And i had to take the 4pm bus to arrive at the airport at 5pm cuz the next bus was arriving at 7:15pm and i was not taking the risk of being denied check-in. That would have been the final straw and would have meant the end of me. So i arrive at Cancun airport, check the departure list and my flight isnt on it. And i'm like, oh well, it's probably because i'm too early. But i noted there was an earlier flight to Guadalajara so i went ask if i could hop on. And the lady said to me: but there is no 7:15pm flight. Well then miss, check the board, it's on it. And mine is not on it. And i was like, oh shit, she's giving me boarding pass for a flight that doesnt exist at the time she's giving it to me, she's then gonna tell me, there's been a mistake we cant take you today and then i'd die.
So i went to wait where she told me to.
And the flight was still not on the board.
And then there was an announcement.
My flight was cancelled delayed changing boarding gate.
Deep breath.
I'm not dead yet.

Every passenger boarding flight 331 to Guadalajara please have your boarding pass ready and your ID.
I handled both my boarding pass and my passport. It wasnt an air hostess. It was a federal police officer. Who rudely asked: where are your immigration papers?
And that's when i died a little inside.
- I dont have them sir, they're in renewal, and they told me on my way here that i wouldnt need them since i'm not leaving the country.
- Well you need them. I can't let you board this plane.

I'm dead.

There were 2 of them. One somehow nicer than the other, asking me questions of what was i doing in PV, how long did i came to Cancun for, and what for, how long i've been living in Mexico, what is my job (dude you already asked me that), how long did i stay here for (dude, you ALSO already asked me that) and so and so.
And then they called me on the microphone. Miss, i am standing right here. Yes i'm the one stuck with the feds.
So to make one long story short (cuz that little mascarade lasted for about 10 minutes, maybe 15. It felt like an hour), the first fed was being a powertripper, enjoying every second that was passing watching me losing it, about to burst into tears. I had to listen to him repeat what seemed like a million times "you cant board the plane, you need your immigration papers". And when i finally told him: so what am i doing now? stay here in Cancun in front of gate B1 waiting for my immigration papers to arrive? he said in that nasty i-have-the-power-to-make-you-shit-your-pants-and-enjoying-every-second-of-it voice told me:"have a nice flight".

ASS-HOLE
I mean
ASS
HOLE

And as i was exiting the door to get to my plane, i thought, wait a minute, he's a federal officer, not an immigration officer, he has no right to detain me for that, that is so not his "jurisdiction". But then i thought better and i was like, ok dont shout victory just yet, you're not in the plane yet, the man has a gun.
And then i had to RUN to get my plane.
WHO on fucking earth has to RUN to get a plane?

I died again.

I had asked for a window so i could pass out on the flight. And after that adventure with the feds i was so going to get a shot of anything. I badly needed it. But a drunk bitch was on my seat and i was just too exhausted to fight it. Fuck you, fuck the feds and fuck everybody. At that particular point, i hated the entire world. But we took off and i started breathing again.

Oh bloody hell, i forgot about those webcams.
And about the bar in the back.
Damn.

Guadalajara airport, my suitcase got out first, i rushed to the taxi station, asked for a ticket to the bus station and on my way i was. When the taxi driver asked me which bus station, i was like, oh shit, there are several? Well i dont know which one, the one that can take me back home. He asked me how much i paid, i told him and he said, ok that's the one in Tonala. But the one in Zapopan is the one closer to PV. If i dont get to the right bus station, i am gonna have to shoot someone, probably myself. It was going to be the straw that breaks the camel's back. I just couldnt have taken it. NO. WAY.

Well, we got to the right bus station after all and when the lady at the counter asked me: where are you travelling to? my heart burst with joy and told her: Puerto Vallarta.
And she said:
- There are no buses to Puerto Vallarta. They closed the road again.

SHOOT
ME
NOW

OK, we're going to have to find a solution cuz i'm not planning on sleeping here. I said i'll be home on friday and i will be home on friday. I heard there was a bus going to PV through Manzanillo, book me on that one.
And then believe or not, i actually had to show her HOW her reservation system was working, that the 2 buses that were appearing on her screen were in fact, only one bus, so yeah, i was going to make the connection with my bus arriving in Manzanillo at 5:20am and departing to PV at 5:20am as well cuz it was the same bloody bus.
So she had to cancel the ticket GDL-MZO she sold me so she could charge me the normal GDL-PV fare even though i'll spend twice as much time in the bus as normal.
And that's when she told me (please sit down for this one), to look for Julio (her manager) so he could cancel my ticket.
WHAT?
I mean, WHAAAAT?
Who the fuck is Julio and why the hell I have to go look for him.
Missy, it's your mistake, not mine, your boss, not mine, you go look for him, not me.
I mean this was surreal.

And when i was finally one in the morning, bus departure time, Julio told the 40 people who were hoping to get to PV somehow: we have 2 buses and 2 options:
- option 1: through Manzanillo but it'll take you 10 hours to get there.
- option 2: through highway 200 but we can only take you up to La Peñita (for those not familiar with the area, it's like faaaaar. And then i would have had to take a BOAT for 2 hours back to who knows where, and then another bus to PV and all that at 6 in the morning and i was like, dont even think about it).

Option 1 for me.

I fell asleep the second my head touched the seat. I didnt even realized we stopped in Manzanillo. When i opened my eyes in the morning, the first thing i saw was the Pacific Ocean. That was the most awesome sight and feeling i had in the past 20 hours or so.

I was finally home.