Programmed to Love...

As I look at the people in my life I can’t help but wonder if somehow we were all programmed to always do certain things or follow certain patterns throughout our lives. For example, I am convinced that my mother was programmed to ORGANIZE, it doesn’t matter if she is at home, on vacation, healthy or sick, happy or sad, she will find something to organize, whether it be her already neat closet, my messy drawers, or her suitcase (if traveling). In my father’s case, he was programmed to be METICULOUS, to carry out any assigned task with the most careful detail and precision, whether it be repairing a broken object, washing his car, or folding the supermarket bags. My brother on the other hand was programmed to STRESS OUT, whether its car problems, a home repair, difficult clients, or a case of things not going his way he will stress out. I for one, was programmed to DAY DREAM, no matter how serious the situation or how important the task I’m carrying out my mind will always drift, to a place that exists only to me, where it’s peaceful and most importantly where I can be whoever I wish. My best friend was programmed to explore the world in search of NEW KNOWLEDGE; his university studies appear to have no end and his list of degrees and titles keeps growing. I don’t see him very often, but when I do I know he’ll tell about some new insane research project his working on. Finally as I look at my fat orange cat I realize he too was definitely programmed to do one specific thing, he was programmed to LOVE. Besides eating and sleeping his greatest joy in life is to spend time with me and stare at me adoringly, humbly asking in return a little company and a good scratch on the back. I feel lucky that he was programmed that way, and that he ended up in my home, because every day he reminds me that there is still pure, undiluted goodness in this world.

A Year Later....

Dear Dad,

A year ago you called me up in the middle of the morning and as always your call brought a little sunshine into my lifeless routine. I gladly answered the phone and you seemed upbeat. You told me you were going on a short road trip, and as always I wished you a safe trip and you promised to call when you got there. We shared a final laugh and I asked you to be careful.

Well, your call never came. Instead I received a much more painful alternative. In just one second I knew my life was forever changed, from now on it would always be sadder no matter what....you where gone. Life took you away from me. I shall always refer to that day, as the day I was forced to grow up, to experience a concentrated dose of pain that left me numb and heartbroken, and with time it made me stronger.

I must say that friends and family really came out to join me in mourning your loss, yet as I stared into the packed room I knew that I was the one missing you the most. But most importantly I was aware that I knew something that none of them knew: what an incredibly sweet, kind, and noble person you are; and I knew that confidential knowledge trusted to me made me in some way special. It meant you had allowed me into your life, that I was able to be a friend to you, and you had offered me a piece of your being your rarely shared with anyone.

I miss you and I love, and everytime I hear something funny I want to call you and share it with you. We sure had some good laughs, and let me tell you when we laughed together that was when I knew life could be sweet and good.

A Little Note...

I found me a reason to smile till my cheeks hurt

A reason to stop making sense
A reason to believe that today might just be a good day

A reason to believe that the world in fact can be a beautiful place

I found you.

An Open Letter to the Universe

2009 has been a radically different year than 2008 for me. At first glance it doesn’t seem that way, I still wake up every morning at 7, and rush through traffic to get to the same office, where I sit on the same desk and do the same work. I still live in the same house where every night I crash into the same couch to watch some TV with the two same adorable orange cats. Some nights I still go out with the same group of friends and the jokes and the gossip are pretty much the same. But there is one immense difference; I can no longer call that kind hearted man every time I have some silly thing on my mind, or simply because I want to know what my favorite person on earth has been up to. After work I no longer drive up to that house which contains my life story, where I am no longer greeted with a warm hug and a great big smile. I no longer have my dad with me. Without noticing the days have passed and it has been 10 months since my sweet dad died. As it usually happens with the sudden death of a loved one, I feel there are many things I was not able to tell him. Many times have I fantasized of the possibility of writing them all down, and thanks to some cosmic fluke my dad was able to read them. So if I were to write such a letter here’s how it would read:

Dear Dad,
I know you and I are not the most expressive or emotional people on the planet, and there were many things we never said and certain topics we never touched upon, however now I feel a strong desire to share a few things with you, so please bare with me:

1. First of all 10 months, hell even 1 month is too long to go without one of your hugs. I got my last hug at the age of 24, and it still felt just as good and comforting as when I was 5.

2. You are my favorite person ever; I value your opinion more than anyone’s and I truly felt privileged every time we hung out. Beer never tasted better than in your excellent company.

3. You may or may not now this but sometimes I did crazy shit and still continue to do so from time to time, but what has always stopped me from going overboard is my fear of disappointing you. I hope in some way or another I made you proud, because I sure as hell am proud to be your daughter.

4. A lot of people say I am a lot like you and I couldn’t be happier. I love that I have your same sense of humor, your love of music, television and movies, that I’m just as cynical and incapable of showing emotion as you. Thank you for sharing with me your love of random facts and the beauty and power of written words.

5. Even though we never talked about boys, I have to tell you I think I have the subject pretty figured out. Don’t worry I had an excellent male figure; I know what a true man looks like.

6. Ever since I began working I’ve realized that every dime earned takes effort, so thank you for all that you’ve given me. Being an honest hard working family man is nothing short of remarkable.

7. It was a great feeling to go through life knowing that I had someone who really got me and who would always have my back. I’ve had a rough time dealing with having that taken away from me, but I still carry with me all the great memories and all the cool stuff you taught me.

8. Although you never said you love me I know you did, you showed it every single day of your life by being there for me, by being my friend, my mentor, my protector. I know I never said I love you, but I hope you knew. Hopefully I was able to be a good friend to you, a confidant to share your problems with, and someone who always had your back.

9. My life will never be the same without you, new people may come into my life but they will never fill that void you left. Every day I get little reminders that you are gone, and every time I feel my heart break just a little bit more. I don’t intend to let your memory fade anytime soon, and the best way I can is by writing, humbly putting together a few words to remind myself and tell whoever wants to read them what you mean to me.

10. Finally I just wanted to say thank you, it has truly been a privilege!

Related post: Sonata For a Good Man

Le Plus Inattendu....

He was nothing like the men who usually caught her attention. He wasn’t dangerously charming; as a matter of fact he was a bit quiet and at first glance seemed somewhat dull. He didn’t say things that swept anybody off their feet; instead he was somewhat awkward and quite frankly unnecessarily blunt. He wasn’t dark and handsome; he was completely unremarkable and a bit frumpy. He wasn’t a man who led a particularly interesting life; instead he was content in the anonymity of his quiet existence. So then why was it that she couldn’t stop thinking about him, that she spent a good part of the day yearning to feel his touch and to be in the presence of his smile, a smile so sincere it made her heart swell? Then why was it that the most perfect place in the universe was in his arms?

Could it be because every time she was ready to give up on him he said something so unexpectedly sweet it made her forget any annoyance? Could it be that every time he kissed her he did so, tenderly but with an undertone of passion that left her breathless? Could it be that every time he looked at her he did so with a wonderment reserved for things of magnificance? Could it be because every time he made love to her, he made sure not to leave an inch of her body neglected?

The boy had come unexpectedly into her life and somehow had managed to turn it upside down. It had been weeks since she stopped making any sense and she hated the fact that she cared if he called, that she felt her heart sink when that call didn’t come. She got mad when she would catch herself day dreaming of him in the middle of work or when her mind involuntarily drifted away to the events that had occurred the previous night in his bedroom. She hated the fact that he had the power to make her mad, to make her smile, to make her act downright silly. What she hated even more was that it was her who had allowed this to happen; somehow she had let him into her life and from the look of things, into her heart.

Of the Heart and Happiness

In several occasions she had invited gentlemen into her bed, but never into her life. They had touched her body, but gotten nowhere near her heart. They had left the warmth of their touch on her skin, but not a trace of it could be found in her heart. Her memories were filled with moments of passion, but never of intimacy. She welcomed physical proximity but insisted on emotional distance. Throughout the years she had encountered several gentlemen worthy of her attention, but never had she met anyone worthy of one of her tears, of one of her heartbeats.

From an early age she decided her heart was hers, and wasn’t meant to be shared. For the most part her heart was a willing prisoner, it rarely protested of its confinement. However, from time to time it wondered what was out there. It was in these rare moments that she considered the possibility of allowing herself to feel something, with the modest hope that the other person felt the same way. But when she thought of the prospect of giving her heart away to someone so recklessly, to give someone the ability to hurt her, she immediately gave up on the idea and continued life as usual.

The men in her life brought her momentary amusement, moments of laughter, hell even moments of joy, and that was all she expected from them. She thought it was silly to go searching for happiness with a man, instead she found it in herself, in life and the beautiful treasures of everyday. Her happiness was hers and that made her smile.

Its important to know your place in life!...

"Don't me tell this clown is moving in with us!"-protested the feline...."Shut up Cat, don't ruin this for me!"-whispered the woman..."Well I'm not sharing the couch"-continued the cat..."Enough Cat!"..."Well I'm just saying, its important he knows his place around here"-concluded the cat smugly.

A cruel joke...

She wondered why life had played such a cruel joke on her. Who could she talk to, who could correct the grave injustice that was her existence? Was there some sort of cosmic complaint department? “A terrible mistake has been made!”-she screamed out to the nothingness. But there was no answer, just a blanket of stars to witness her tears and the cover of night to embrace her.

Ahhh...l'amour!

“You’re one odd fellow, did you know that?” she said to the awkward boy holding her hand, as a smile threatened to take over her whole face. She was so thrilled to be able to see in him what nobody else saw. In that vast urban sea of anonymity she had stumbled upon a remarkable treasure undetected by everyone but her. She had found a great big awkward heart to love her own lonely heart.

“I wish we could go back to a time when you still remembered why you liked me” said the man. “Oh I remember all right, it’s just that I’ve begun to question the validity of those reasons” replied the woman dryly.

Saying "I love you" is like holding a gun at someone's head...in both cases there's usually just one right answer.

"Humans are overrated" said the Girl. "Actually they're not half bad" thought the Cat.

She rearranged the stars so they wouldn't be so far appart. "No one should be so alone...not tonight"she thought.

As I stared up into the night sky, the stars seemed to smile back....And for that one night the world was beautiful. It was mine.

The Honduras Chronicles Part I

It’s been almost two weeks since our FORMER President Manuel Zelaya was graciously escorted out of the country, and during this whole ordeal I have felt a range of emotions from anger to pride to hope. It’s amazing how different I feel since this crisis exploded, I see myself, my country, my fellow countrymen, and the world in a whole new light. Here’s a little account of what life has been like for this proud Honduran amidst a political crisis.

I must admit that the last few weeks have been tense and filled with uncertainty, but other than that I truly believe that right now is an exciting time to be Honduran. I have witnessed history in the making. I have seen how people have put aside their differences, political and personal in order to defend the liberties and freedoms, we had once taken for granted. I think never before had so many Hondurans read the constitution! As Hondurans we have realized that we are capable of being bold, hell I think we are capable of greatness!

DEALING WITH UNCERTAINTY…
The week leading up to the expulsion of Mel Zelaya, I saw how our president was becoming more erratic in his behavior and his speeches became more leftist (in a very nasty, if your poor it’s the rich people’s fault kind of way). I literally went to bed every night not knowing where our country was headed; I could just feel a shit storm was brewing! On Sunday June 28, 2009 I awoke to the sound of military fighter planes circling the beautiful skies of my city, Tegucigalpa. I opened one eye and saw my alarm clock was blank, hence no power. I heard my mother had just woken up and I told her “Either Mel Zelaya was taken out of office or those are Hugo Chavez’s planes”. My mom was able to find a small battery-powered radio but all the radio stations were off the air! Finally I was able to tune a station, and I received confirmation that the President was removed from power and flown to Costa Rica. I knew things where not normal and that my country was starting a difficult road, but above all I felt relief that that mad man was gone!

Exactly a week later after these events, it was announced that the ex president would attempt to return to the country. Both the international community and leaders of the Catholic and Evangelical churches begged him not to return yet, out of fear that confrontation between his followers and police/military would surely result in deaths. Around noon that day, the new government announced that Zelaya would not be allowed to enter the country, in an effort to prevent violence. Despite that, around 5pm a private plane (owned by PDVSA, the national Venezuelan oil company), with Zelaya allegedly in it, began to make its approach towards the runway in Tegucigalpa. Mind you, the plane had no authorization to land, and yet it entered Honduran airspace with some its locator devices turned off, making its detection harder. Apparently the plan lead by Hugo Chavez was that Mel’s supporters would storm the runway, which was being guarded by the military, in order to create a sort of human shield if you will, for the now ex-president and take him to the Presidential House. In the end the military where able to control the crowds and was able to block the runway. Unfortunately, one of the protesters was killed, nonetheless I feel the outcome could have been worse, and I applaud the military for its restrain. I have to point out that I find it disgusting that Mel Zelaya and Hugo Chavez where calling for the protestors to come into direct clash with the military, they wanted to see deaths, to create martyrs for their cause, shame shame on you! That being said, I was glued to the TV hoping that this wouldn't result in a massacre. I now nervously wonder what will happen this Sunday, I think us Hondurans deserve a break from all the drama!

NEWS NEWS AND MORE NEWS….
As most Hondurans I have become a news junkie! Before leaving for work I have my coffee with the news turned on, I get to work Im reading two online newspapers at the same time, my boss has the news radio on, and afterwards we swap printed newspapers between colleagues. When I get home, I can’t wait for it to be 5:30, when the first newscasts begin. It’s exhausting but I feel a compulsive need to be informed, helps me deal with all this uncertainty.

Since I’m on the topic of news, I can’t begin to express how frustrated and angry I feel about CNN one-sided coverage of the events occurring in my country. Here in Honduras we’ve began referring to it as Chavez News Network. Its reporters hardly ever speak about the countless acts of corruption of our former administration and how many of us favor the new government.

SOME FINAL THOUGHTS…
I don’t like seeing my country divided between those who support the removal of Mel Zelaya and those who favor him, and I’m aware that our situation is serious and so far a clear solution in nowhere in sight. However I am hopeful that Honduras will make it out of this one, and in the process we shall become politically more mature and from now on we shall demand greater accountability from our leaders. I also hope that we do not see any more deaths as a result of this crisis; human life is precious and should not be wasted on behalf of personal interest of individuals and struggles for power. We are a small country, with a weak economy, and no oil, but nonetheless we deserve to be respected and it shall be us who decide the future of our nation. Venezuela, Nicaragua, or any other nation: you have no right to interfere! Finally I want to tell the world that democracy now more than ever, is alive and well in this so called “Banana Republic” of 7 million and a half brave souls.

-Das Ende-

There was a City Written in the Sea...

Last week I was fortunate enough to visit 3 wonderful Brazilian cities: Brasilia, Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. In my opinion each of these cities is unique and special in its own right, and they all have lovely and helpful people, who made my trip that much more enjoyable. Upon my return, I was eager to tell everyone about the wonderful architecture of Brasilia and the sophistication of Sao Paulo, yet I noticed people had a marked interest for Rio de Janeiro, they wanted to know absolutely everything about this legendary metropolis. So it is for this reason that I’ve decided to dedicate my first post to this marvelous city by the sea.

So how do I begin to describe this culturally rich and complex city? How can I, a mere passerby accurately portray this cluster of more than 10 million souls interacting daily, existing side by side. More importantly have I understood the soul of the city, that unique energy that makes Rio de Janeiro different from any other? Rio de Janeiro is a city of contrasts, not only geographically but economically, and for this reason it is many things to different people. So should I talk about the glamorous Rio filled with luxurious condos overlooking the sea and private yachts docked? Or should I talk about the populous favelas (slums) tucked in the surrounding hills, under the watchful eye of Christ the Redeemer? In reality, all I can do is describe Rio through a pair of fresh, uncorrupted eyes that are taking in all the sights, energy and people for the very first time.

As I’m preparing to deliver my account of this city, many scenes flash through my mind: The mellow feel of Copacabana beach, right there in the heart of the city, with its street vendors and sun worshipers; the hip and youthful atmosphere of Ipanema beach with its crowd of pretty, young things enjoying the surf and the social scene; the busy downtown where it seems some actual work gets done; the Pao de Azucar, the landmark hill that offers an incredible view of all the city; the spiraling road up to the Corcovado, with its many quaint houses where poor, rich, and middle class fit seamlessly; the North side, the less glamorous side of town, where the privileged few of Copacabana, Ipanema, and Leblon are left far behind to give way to the sobering reality of most of its inhabitants. So, is Rio essentially the sum of vastly different areas? Is it precisely the contrasts that define Rio or is there one common denominator that transcends beyond geography and economic class?

My mind is going in all directions trying to find a concise answer to these questions, when all of a sudden a solitary phrase floats through my head: “No mar estava escrita uma cidade”, which roughly translates to: “there was a city written in the sea”. I first encountered this phrase in my initial walk through Copacabana; there it was, engraved right next to the statue of its author, the great Brazilian poet Carlos Drummond de Andrade. I thought it was so simple and yet so beautiful. Now I realize that there was much more to this line, in 6 words it captured the essence of Rio de Janeiro. Like planets around the sun, the lives of cariocas (Rio natives) revolve around the ocean. The sun has just come up and the boardwalk of Copacabana is already filled with people, whether it’s for a spirited stroll or jog, a bike ride, some early surfing, or a quick splash in the water. As the day progresses the beaches are never lonely, its seems as if cariocas are pulled to the sea in search of life, in search of fuel for their souls. In the sand, class lines fade, for the sun and the sea do not know of inequality, they are noble, existing only to restore the hearts and bodies of a people whose lives are written in the sea.

Back home!

After 10 flights (most of them at ungodly hours), ocassional catnaps in airport benches, 3 hotel rooms, and countless taxi rides, Im back home! I spent last week traveling through Brazil for a business trip. Don't get me wrong I had so much fun, but at the same time it was exhausting due to the flight intinerary from hell! It seems like the office went out of its way to send me through the most indirect and annoying route they could find. Adding to this situation is my fear of flying, I get so damn paranoid everytime I'm on a plane! So imagine my fragile state of mind as I had to endure give or take 5 hours of turbulence. By the time I landed in Sao Paulo I was on the verge of going bat-shit crazy!

All of my troubles at 36,0000 feet above land where imediately erased by the new people and places I got to see. In my opinion one of the biggest thrills is to visit somewhere new, and for this part of my trip I am enternally grateful. I took tons of pics, and I'll be blogging about it for sure.

For now a ton of work awaits in my desk, guess its back to reality for me!

The Questionable Evolution of Stella K

It’s almost midnight and I’m sitting in my living room, the TV is on but I’m not paying much attention to it, its just there for background noise. The volume is high enough to emit sufficient sound to keep me company, but not high enough to distract me from my thoughts. As I look around my cozy lair, I’m not alone; my two cats are here, each one sitting in their self appointed seats in the couches. For me this is bliss, it is the peace I need to end the day. As my mind is flooded by a whirlwind of thoughts, as it usually happens at this hour, one of my best friends comes to mind. We went to school together all of our lives and during the last couple of years in high school we became best friends. She was the quintessential party animal, an unstoppable force of nature, never a dull moment with her. And I was her partner in crime. After high school we went our separate ways, I went to Canada for college, and she went to Florida. We kept in touch with the occasional email, but twice a year we returned home, and for those few weeks we were back on, full force. Our many nights out seemed to fuse into one big, confusing, drunken, fun blur.

Since graduating from college a lot has happened in her life, she got married and had a baby. In April I flew to Miami for a visit, even though I was so glad to see my friend I couldn’t help but realize how much she had changed. Life had changed her, the main difference being that it wasn’t all about her anymore, it was about the cute toddler walking around uncontrollably, it was about the new family she has created for herself.

This got me thinking, since high school how much have I changed myself? At first glance it seems not too much, I still like to go out, I’m still always late for everything, I’m still the class clown (well the office clown now), I still suck at relationships, and I’m still that incurable day dreamer who spends her days between the real world and the universe of fantasy within her head.

But then again I do feel I have changed; I can feel the changes that took place within me, in the core of me. First of all I’ve realized I have to open up to people more, otherwise it’s gonna be a lonely existence. I realized that in order to have good friends you have to be one yourself. I’ve also learned to give people a chance, don’t dismiss them so quickly, they may surprise you. Those you least expect are capable of great kindnesses.

When I was in high school I wasn’t the prettiest girl for sure, and during my teenage years I struggled with my self-image. Now I can say I’m quite happy with how I look, most importantly I’ve come to accept that the body and face I was given are not half bad. From experience I’ve learned that you can be sexy without being perfect, guys can sometimes love the imperfections that torture you. Yet, I like to think a homely girl still lives inside my head, she keeps me grounded, she keeps it real!

Now I realize that life is quite uncertain, we are put on this earth with no explanation or instructions, so the best we can do is act in a decent and humane way, not because we seek a prize in the afterlife but because it is the right thing to do, because we choose good over evil. We all share this same fate, so whenever we can we must help each other get through this.

During high school and my college years I wasted too much time being unproductive; I slept too much, and watched too much TV. Now I realize that there is a wealth of knowledge waiting to be learned. Now the only thing the truly excites me when I wake up in the morning is the possibility of learning something new. By learning I don’t necessarily mean formal learning, by exploring simple topics great lessons can be learned. For example a couple of years ago I took on gardening, and from it I’ve learned patience and discipline. Green leaves and beautiful flowers don’t happen overnight, they take constant effort and a lot of patience.

I’ve always consider myself creative, but for years I never took on any creative endeavor because I never found something I was good enough at. Now I know that the greatest reward doesn’t come from the quality of the finished product but from the fact that YOU made it. Before you created it didn’t exist. I guess this is the main reason why I blog and why I take photographs.

So perhaps I haven’t taken any of the “big” steps such as marriage or having kids, but I like to believe I have evolved, hopefully for the best. I can only hope I shall continue this path of growth (or at least what I consider growth). However I must clarify that I wish my sense of humor and my over-active imagination remain untouched, I like living with head a bit above the clouds...

I'm Being Chased!

The other day I was reading that there are some very common types of dreams, such as falling, flying, being naked, being chased, etc…In my case quite often I dream I’m being chased by someone or something. Usually these dreams are quite enjoyable for me because there’s a sense of excitement in outrunning and outwitting my tormentor, expect for maybe a few times where I’ve dreamt I was being hunted down by a psycho or serial killer.
Anyways, last night I had a very long dream, the kind where my surroundings are constantly changing. It all began with me going to an American consulate to renew my US visa, a pretty normal situation. But then as I was exiting the consulate I realized that I was now in a Cuban hospital, so I begin to poke around to see if the conditions were just as precarious as a recent report claimed. (Mind you, I have not recently read any news article on the Cuban health system so I have no idea where this is coming from). So as I make my way through the dark and decrepit halls of the hospital, I’m hiding from staff and discovering room after room that the hospital is filthy and completely inadequate. I see patients neglected and I feel awful, I'm determined to tell the world about what i've seen. But then suddenly I realize I have to get out of there, I’ve been discovered, so I make my way into the busy streets of what looks like Habana. I find a sort of train station, and as I am in the platform waiting for the train, a young Asian girl dressed in police uniform approaches me. She says something in a foreign language in an accusatory tone so I start running again and she is on my tail. Now the streets look different, I am in some Asian country with an oppressive regime. As I am making my escape I can hear the police woman talking into her radio, I assume she is calling for backup.

So she catches up with me and we struggle and somehow I manage to take away her gun, I point it at her and she’s on the floor looking down, waiting for the worst. But then I decide to spare her life and I throw the gun in a nearby river. She is surprised and grateful, so she grabs my hand and takes me to a hiding place, since more police officers are on their way. So we get to an abandoned house and all of a sudden I recognize the house, it’s the home I grew up in! Then I hear that the place is surrounded by the police, uh oh.. they’re gonna take to some dark awful jail! But then as I look again at my surroundings there’s no more police, I’m back in high school with all of my old classmates. Then…I wake up!

According to marginally credible sources online, chase dreams mean that I'm running away from my problems. Perhaps this maybe true, but for now I don't wish to spend time decifering my dreams. Instead I choose to be amazed at how the human mind works and enjoy the next adventure. I wonder who I'm gonna be tonight?

Good Luck...

The following post falls under the category of things that only I find interesting or relevant:

During the weekend I visited one of those huge home and hardware centers, and so as I made my way through the endless iles of merchandise I spotted the plants section. I found this plant which I thought was so pretty because of its shiny bright green leaves and bright pink flowers:

When I got home I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the plants name was "Suerte" which means Luck in spanish. Hopefully it will bring some my way...

Happy Weekend!

Dear Fellow Tegucigalpa Inhabitant...

Electric fences are not meant for you to dry your clothes in! They are strictly for security purposes only. Thank you.

The bed is shaking...WTF?!...oh well ZZZZ....

After the many weird events of Wednesday I was glad to go to bed. At around 2 AM I was suddenly awakened by the shaking motion of my bed. At first I though ohhh fuck my house must be haunted! But then I realized of shit its an earthquake! I was a bit scared but when it stopped shaking sleep took over my body and back to dreamland. When I woke up this morning I recalled the incident, but I honestly didn't know if it had been real or just a dream. Then I turned on the tv and turns out it had been real, a 7.1 quake! This is huge for Honduras, I dont know if it had ever happened (at least not in my lifetime).

In all seriousness Im glad the consequences havent been as bad as they could have, given that we are poor country and many people have inadequate housing, but Im saddened by the few who did loose their lives.

Last I heard we are tsunami alert now, which is always scary, lets hope for the best!

Late Night Blogging...after an odd day

The night is finally beginning to feel cooler after a quick rain shower, the city has quieted down and just the odd person is wondering the streets at this hour. I am sitting in the floor of my house’s corridor with a lot on my mind and a sense of relief that Wednesday is finally over. Today was quite an odd day for me! The day started pretty much in the same way as always: I’ve woken up 10 minutes too late and I’m rushing to get ready. I finally make it out of the door and into my car, so begins my maniacal drive to work.

Things started to get weird once I stepped out of the car when I realized one of my heels broke off. So I had to spend the rest of the morning limping all over the office till finally at noon I went home for a quick shoe change. Another thing that got to me today was the fact that other than an email here and there I had absolutely nothing to do all day at work! Over and over again I searched in my mind for things to do, and over and over again I confirmed I had turned everything in! So the hours went by painfully slow, I think I checked my email around 50 times, I read every gossip site imaginable, and to top things off none of my messenger buddies were online today! These are the days when I feel like such a fraud! All day I pretended to look busy and a couple of times I got up to print something so people would think I was hard at work. I felt like I was being such a bad employee and even contemplated asking my boss for something to do, but then I quickly discarded the idea because it could backfire so badly!

Anyways I finally made to the end of the workday, so I get in my car and as I was driving home I suddenly hear a loud thump in my side window….someone for some reason threw something at me, and I am almost sure it was a cup of coffee! My window was covered in a latte colored liquid…I mean who the hell does that!?

Tomorrow shall be another day…hopefully better!

Unwavering bands of light...

My favorite book is Breakfast of Champions by the great Kurt Vonnegut. It is a raw and darkly funny view of life in America and the dehumanization of modern life, among other things. I will share with you my favorite part of the story; I find it striking how Vonnegut describes that immaterial core that lives within each one of us. This is the moment in the story when Karabekian, a stuck up artist from NY is having drinks in a bar in Midland City, Ohio. The town’s center for the arts has just bought his painting “The Temptation of Saint Anthony” which consists of one single vertical band of Day-Glo orange reflecting tape over an avocado green background. They paid $50,000 for it and the whole town is outraged. The waitress serving him was fed up with his mocking attitude, and exploded when the artist made fun of the town’s best female swimmer:
“You don’t think much of Mary Alice Miller?” she said. “Well, we don’t think much of your painting. I’ve seen better pictures done by a five-year-old.”
Karabekian slid off his barstool so he could face all those enemies standing up. He certainly surprised me. I expected him to retreat in a hail of olives, maraschino cherries and lemon rinds. But he was majestic up there “Listen—” he said so calmly, “I have read the editorial against my painting in your wonderful newspaper. I have read every word of the hate mail you have been thoughtful enough to send to New York.”
This embarrassed people some.
“The painting did not exist until I made it,” Karabekian went on. “Now that it does exist, nothing would make me happier than to have it reproduced again and again, and vastly improved upon, by all the five year-olds in town. I would love for your children to find pleasantly and playfully what it took me many angry years to find.
“I now give you my word of honor,” he went on, “that the picture your city owns shows everything about life which truly matters, with nothing left out. It is a picture of the awareness of every animal. It is the immaterial core of every animal—the ‘I am’ to which all messages are sent. It is all that is alive in any of us—in a mouse, in a deer, in a cocktail waitress. It is unwavering and pure, no matter what preposterous adventure may befall us. A sacred picture of Saint Anthony alone is one vertical, unwavering band of light. If a cockroach were near him, or a cocktail waitress, the picture would show two such bands of light. Our awareness is all that is alive and maybe sacred in any of us. Everything else about us is dead machinery.

“I have just heard from this cocktail waitress here, this vertical band of light, a story about her husband and an idiot who was about to be executed at Shepherdstown. Very well—let a five-year-old paint a sacred interpretation of that encounter. Let that five-year-old strip away the idiocy, the bars, the waiting electric chair, the uniform of the guard, the gun of the guard, the bones and meat of the guard. What is that perfect picture which any five-year-old can paint? Two unwavering bands of light.”

Ecstasy bloomed on the barbaric face of Rabo Karabekian.
“Citizens of Midland City, I salute you,” he said. “You have given a home to a masterpiece!”

Happy Friday

A collection of images I've found here and there....

Random pics....

Preety...

My cat taking the time to chew my plants

My jasmines are blooming again..they usually do so at night

The smell...simply sublime

A nice lazy Sunday....

Hello Blue Monday!

Guess what?...Its Monday, it’s time to do it all over again! So what else is left but to reminisce about the weekend that so quickly went away. For me it was a bit of everything kind of weekend. Nothing life changing happened but I passed the time taking part in a series of random activities. Let’s see…well on Friday I went for drinks with my co-workers and I must say that I was pleasantly surprised to discover that they are genuinely fun people. On Saturday I went for Thai food with my mom, kudos to her for trying something new! (she’s not the most adventurous when it comes to culinary matters).

That evening I went to a friend’s birthday and this time I was disappointed to see that my solid group of single friends is no longer the same. The whole evening had a weird vibe to it! First of all I was in shock as I realized it was a bit of a couple’s night. Coupled people outnumbered the singles; this was a first in my crew. The situation was aggravated by the exaggerated public displays of affection of one of the couples, as well as by the couple-y conversation topics such as the best restaurants for romantic dinners, grand romantic gestures….mushy stuff galore!

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against people being in relationships, I understand that it’s normal, but in reality sometimes when your friends begin relationships things do change and the friendship suffers! Perhaps I had gotten to cozy in my group of friends and perhaps took for granted that we’d all be single indefinitely and keep going out for nights of excessive boozing. I guess I have to come to terms with the fact that some of them now prefer a romantic mellow night out.

Sunday was quite chill, I spend a good part of the morning poolside and later went home for an evening in front of the TV. Everything was going quite well, when all of a sudden my mind began to play tricks on me! I began to feel anxious and paranoid about the things to come. The reason for my distress is work, there are a lot of changes coming in the next weeks. It’s funny how my mind operates, for months now I’ve been complaining that nothing exciting ever happens at the office, and now that I have the opportunity to do something different and exciting I’m semi freaking out? I guess lately I’m having issues with change…but hopefully all shall pass, I just have to conquer my own demons, which in this case is insecurity.

Sonata for a Good Man

A few months ago I saw the acclaimed German movie Das Leben der Anderen (The Lives of Others). The movie is set in 1980s communist East Germany, and the plot revolves around the life of a writer and his fellow artists and how the secret police had surveillance on them, in order to detect any behavior or thought that went against the socialist ideology of the state, and consequently “re-educate” the offender. The movie does a wonderful job in capturing the oppressive atmosphere of the era and how many artists felt the regime had slowly killed their souls. A key element in the storyline is a piece of sheet music given as a gift to the main character by a fellow artist, it is entitled “Sonata for a Good Man”. To make a long story short the main character discovers, once the socialist regime is over, that the agent assigned to spy on him saved his life by not informing the police of his “deviant activities”. He goes on to write a book about his ordeal with the secret police and the anonymous man that saved him. The book is appropriately titled “Sonata for a Good Man”.

I don’t intend to write a movie review, there are plenty of those online. I simply bring up this film because for months now I’ve been wanting to write a piece on a good man that touched my own life, my father. So here it goes, here is my own Sonata for a good man:
The world doesn’t know it, but on March 8, 1948 a truly remarkable human being was born. He did not fight in any wars, he didn’t become an international leader, and no he didn’t inspire the masses with his message of hope and freedom. Actually he was more of the quiet kind, existing modestly, discretely and perhaps even anonymously. Very few noticed, but inside of him beat a heart capable of love and selflessness. Inside his body lived a sensitive soul, at times saddened by the realities of life, but also capable of appreciating the sensibilities of art, literature and music. Inside his head, there lay a highly critical brain capable of seeing the reality even through the nonsense. It constantly demanded that the truth be told and the foolishness of humanity be reprimanded.

It is my humble opinion that the remarkable qualities of this man shined more intensely as a father. His priority became to provide for his family and ensure a prosperous future for his children. I truly appreciate this, but what I value most is his many hugs filled with love, his words filled with wisdom, his sophisticated humor that resulted in endless laughs, and countless little gestures that showed how much he cared. These are the things that have endured inside of me; these are the things that have made me who I am.

The world doesn’t know it but on November 28, 2008 the world lost a remarkable man, a beacon of light that gave so much to those he loved. Sometimes it saddens me as I think that my father may have been already forgotten by some and that many didn’t know the extraordinary beauty that lay beneath his quiet surface. But on the other hand I feel so damn lucky that I was one of the few who were in contact of the full splendor of this man’s soul, and for that I am eternally grateful!

Here’s to all those day to day heroes who give so much without expecting any glory or compensation in return. Thank you to all those anonymous angels that make this crazy thing called life a little more bearable for the rest of us.

Something preety to look at

After a week spent in Miami, I returned home to a couple of angry cats and some sad looking plants, so this weekend I went out and got myself new ones. I think its essential to surround yourself with beauty, it brings a little joy to your everyday life.

My beloved Tegucigalpa

Tegucigalpa is often dismissed by many as an ugly, disorganized and chaotic city. It’s true, our city has very little urban planning, and perfectly straight avenues with streets stretching perpendicularly are a rare occurrence. But it is precisely this chaos that gives Tegucigalpa its soul. It is the many winding narrow roads that make navigating through our city unique and perhaps even whimsical, and the rugged and uneven landscape gives way to beautiful views from atop its many hills. Most of us “capitalinos” have a love-hate affair with this city, we complain about the traffic and the questionable driving skills of its inhabitants, and the many potholes in the streets. But at the end of the day we love to inhabit this wonderfully chaotic universe that is Tegucigalpa.

Kiss and Tell

On Friday I went out with my girlfriends, we had a last minute girls night out. For some reason or another (probably the alcohol) we got to talking about how many guys we had kissed, throughout our dating careers. So we all grabbed a napkin and starting making the infamous list. Guess who's was longer?...yes mine! Turns out that during my 10 years of dating I have kissed 35 guys! At first my friends were teasing me...like you "slutty Mcslut", so I had to come up with a defense....after a few seconds a blurted out: "Hey Ive kissed 35 guys in the span of 10 years, for which most of them I have been single, its comes up to about 3.5 guys per year, not bad!"

I know this whole conversation was silly and very high schoo-ish but none the less fun. It forced me to remember all of those guys burried in my past, some of them intended never to be revisited, and some of them did bring back fond memories. It brought back memories of what it felt like to have butterflies in your stomach, to agonize next to the phone waiting for his call, and the joy of the perfect kiss at the perfect moment. Eventhough I moved on to sex and more mature romantic experiences nothing beats the feeling of floating in the air in your crush's arms as the world stop for that brief moment. I guess what Im trying to say is that i miss that ingenuity that came with teenage romance!

These two gentlemen hold a special place in my heart!

I Wish I was Here!

As i sit in my desk waiting for the work week to end my mind drifts to the lazy beach town of Tela, Atlantida...Its one of my favorite places. I can just feel the hot sun on my skin and the warm carribean waters inviting me for a swim...

"Recordar es facil para el que tiene memoria. Olvidarse es dificil para quien tiene corazón."

Translation: Remembering is easy for anyone who has a memory. Forgetting is hard for anyone who has a heart.-Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Life Happened...I guess

Its been a while since i posted...guess a lot has happened...life has happened. Im no longer a college student, I actually work for a living now! Though as I stare at my co-workers I can help it but think that i just pretend to work here, cause in the back of my mind im still that clueless girl rushing to Managerial Accounting class. I still can't believe that somebody entrusted me with some sort of responsibility and i get payed for it, but my account balance says i do. I no longer struggle to pay my bills at the end of the month, i dont have to survive on pasta cause i don't have money for groceries....i can now afford a nice meal once in a while and it feels nice!

I know its been just over 2 years since I joined the work force, but once in a while a new college graduate asks me for advice on starting your career. I tell them first of all: you will go through a lot of annoying, humiliating, awkward interviews, and most of them will be for nothing cause you will not have been chosen. Secondly, your first salary will be crap and you will be expected to work the hardest...you will be at the bottom of the corporate food chain...deal with it! Thirdly, and this is perhaps the most valuable piece of advice: be friendly with the secretaries! They are the ones that control the flow of information, they are the gatekeepers, hell they run the joint! Finally if you are a girl you will encounter sleezy male co-workers, they will say innapropriate things but most of the times they are harmless...so sometimes is best to simply ignore them and give them a polite smile once in a while...