The apology known as Number 1. About the days with few posts:
I am sorry my 32 followers, I was trying to be a blogger rock star and do my post at night, but! Turns out! My English goes away after 7 pm, yeah, I am not that fluent in this lovely language, and so, after that time I can only write weird non-prose-something-like-poetry things, bad poems and little Facebook comments; all in Spanish. So I have been messing up my two-posts-a-day rule, I am really sorry.
The apology known as Number 2. About Yesterday’s post:
Well as I told you before yesterday was not the greatest day; little annoying things happening around me, killing my writing mojo (I do think I have one and I do believe that chatty aunts and uncles can kill it). So I was getting scared, what if all those silly polite questions* got into my blood stream and turned my brain into mush? Hindering all my possibilities to post.
So, I decided to go out, take a walk, go to the gym (explore the mysterious world of spinning classes), take a long shower and then sit back in front of my pc to write. It didn’t work.
I was able to write, sure, but it was more about arbitrary things happening in my life (that go in my other blog, the messy my-crazy-life-and-bad-poetry Blog**); for this more formal blog, I was unable to narrate a proper post.
The apology known as Number 3. About the Thank You note I never gave:
Well a long time ago, when I was a lovely big-eyed nineteen-year-old I had a friend. A good friend, the kind of friend that looks for you at a party just to make sure that you are having a good time. He was always around, we used to live nearby and he was one of the few people on my life that I was able to visit without a previous warning and a formal appointment (remember that I have all those weird social issues).
He was nice, most days when 2 pm would roll up, he would show at my apartment just to make sure that I was not eating alone (in Mexico we eat the big, and important, meal of the day around that time). He was one of those guys, never wanting his friends to feel alone. And well, I really liked him for it.
The thing is, he left Mexico some time ago, before I was in my nice healthy (no depression, no chaos) face. The period in which I told all my friends how important they had been in my struggle to become normal. And so, I never got to tell him that (a simple “thank you for being there”) and I have always felt terrible about it.
Well, today, since I was already confessing all my sins, I decided to take a chance and honor him with this song: It’s from Jesca Hoop and it’s called The Kingdom***.
Why this song?
My friend was lovely and all but he was peculiar. I mean, every single eccentric fashion statement one could thing off, he had already worn. He was like that; fencing classes, Turkish dances, red hair, purple hair, black hair (to cover up some other color), leather boots (or those magical wood clogs), obsessions with specific moments of history and with Bono from U2… etc… etc… sound like a simple fellow, no? Well he wasn't, but at the end of the day it was not his look (or some of his actions) that matter, it was the type of guy he was, and he truly was a charming man…And so!! Considering all of his tastes and passions I think this lady would have been quite the apple of his eye.
* Honey, can you take a picture? Sugar, would you like some cake? Can you stand by your mother (so I can take video of both of you doing nothing)? Hey, where is the bathroom? Are you busy? Are you writing? Really, you don’t want some cake? Oh, so, how do I make a Facebook account? Can you show me?
** It’s mostly in Spanish but if you want you can take a look at it (here).
*** Video directed by Elia Petridis
I am sorry my 32 followers, I was trying to be a blogger rock star and do my post at night, but! Turns out! My English goes away after 7 pm, yeah, I am not that fluent in this lovely language, and so, after that time I can only write weird non-prose-something-like-poetry things, bad poems and little Facebook comments; all in Spanish. So I have been messing up my two-posts-a-day rule, I am really sorry.
The apology known as Number 2. About Yesterday’s post:
Well as I told you before yesterday was not the greatest day; little annoying things happening around me, killing my writing mojo (I do think I have one and I do believe that chatty aunts and uncles can kill it). So I was getting scared, what if all those silly polite questions* got into my blood stream and turned my brain into mush? Hindering all my possibilities to post.
So, I decided to go out, take a walk, go to the gym (explore the mysterious world of spinning classes), take a long shower and then sit back in front of my pc to write. It didn’t work.
I was able to write, sure, but it was more about arbitrary things happening in my life (that go in my other blog, the messy my-crazy-life-and-bad-poetry Blog**); for this more formal blog, I was unable to narrate a proper post.
The apology known as Number 3. About the Thank You note I never gave:
Well a long time ago, when I was a lovely big-eyed nineteen-year-old I had a friend. A good friend, the kind of friend that looks for you at a party just to make sure that you are having a good time. He was always around, we used to live nearby and he was one of the few people on my life that I was able to visit without a previous warning and a formal appointment (remember that I have all those weird social issues).
He was nice, most days when 2 pm would roll up, he would show at my apartment just to make sure that I was not eating alone (in Mexico we eat the big, and important, meal of the day around that time). He was one of those guys, never wanting his friends to feel alone. And well, I really liked him for it.
The thing is, he left Mexico some time ago, before I was in my nice healthy (no depression, no chaos) face. The period in which I told all my friends how important they had been in my struggle to become normal. And so, I never got to tell him that (a simple “thank you for being there”) and I have always felt terrible about it.
Well, today, since I was already confessing all my sins, I decided to take a chance and honor him with this song: It’s from Jesca Hoop and it’s called The Kingdom***.
Why this song?
My friend was lovely and all but he was peculiar. I mean, every single eccentric fashion statement one could thing off, he had already worn. He was like that; fencing classes, Turkish dances, red hair, purple hair, black hair (to cover up some other color), leather boots (or those magical wood clogs), obsessions with specific moments of history and with Bono from U2… etc… etc… sound like a simple fellow, no? Well he wasn't, but at the end of the day it was not his look (or some of his actions) that matter, it was the type of guy he was, and he truly was a charming man…And so!! Considering all of his tastes and passions I think this lady would have been quite the apple of his eye.
* Honey, can you take a picture? Sugar, would you like some cake? Can you stand by your mother (so I can take video of both of you doing nothing)? Hey, where is the bathroom? Are you busy? Are you writing? Really, you don’t want some cake? Oh, so, how do I make a Facebook account? Can you show me?
** It’s mostly in Spanish but if you want you can take a look at it (here).
*** Video directed by Elia Petridis
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