What do you mean your journal wasn't dead?
*Sigh*
No need to point out the obvious, right? I haven't updated in the longest time (although I have made an effort to keep up with you guys and even comment). I could make a lot of excuses for that, but the long and the short of it is that it's a lot easier to facebook / tweet a few cryptic words (a little bit like Doogie Howser's journal) than it is to face the blank page LJ update page.
So now I've worked up the courage and will fill you in in the gap that was the last couple of months.
On November 23rd I moved to a new apartment. I had been living at my old place since June 1st, 2004 - a grand total of five and a half years. For you guys to understand what that means, you gotta know that before then I lived in Mexico City for about three years when I was born (and I don't remember any of it, so it doesn't really count), a rented house in Córdoba until I was about 7, the house my dad built until I was 12, my grandparents' old house on and off for a couple of years and then my grandparents' new house from then until I had the moronic idea to hook up with the Treacherous Bastard. After that it was small houses and apartments that we vacated after one-year leases expired. That apartment was the first time I was *settled*. So of course it was hard to move. Now that I have had time to process it, I think it worked for the best. It's a smaller place, yes, but it's on a much quieter street, I have my own parking spot, I live right across from a park and there are children in the buildings on either side that my own kids can play with. I guess moving made my "soltería" (Merriam Webster tells me the word I'm looking for is "spinsterhood", but I just refuse to use it, it sounds horrible!) final and that's why I had such a hard time with the whole thing.
< / self-psychoanalisis>
The month of December was hard for me. My grandma started deteriorating really fast and after what was apparently a second stroke, the first one being 10 years ago, she passed away on December 26th. I would lie to you if I said my relationship with my grandma was good. She was a strong, very opinionated woman and for better or worse she was a very strong influence in my life. Some of her actions contributed to some of the stupidest decision-making in my life and that in turn caused our estrangement for the better part of ten years. However, I know that she meant well and I am only sorry I didn't get to spend more time with her. I didn't go to her funeral because my mother, who takes strong and opinionated to a whole other level, decided she didn't want to have a wake that would be more of a social gathering than a moment of mourning so she had my grandma buried the same day ... I kind of hated it, I think I should have been there but I realize it wasn't my choice to make.
One of my clearest memories of my grandma is from a room of the house until recently I didn't use much - the kitchen. I must have been about fifteen or sixteen and we'd just moved to the new house with my grandparents. As it happens with every move, my grandma went through the whole "out with the old" phase and decided that her recipe book needed to be transcribed. This book was more a collection of recipes she'd jotted and scribbled over a long time, and there were things in there she hadn't made in years. She decided her handwriting wasn't good enough (and it wasn't, not even she could decipher some of her notes!) so I was in charge of the monumental task. I can't remember right now whether we ever finished, I think we must have given up on it at some point, but I do remember that I spent a lot of time in the kitchen - cooking! - for a while. Since Christmas, once it became obvious that the inevitable was inminent, I've started cooking again. Cooking with a vengeance, saying without words everything that never really came out of my mouth. I don't really know if I can call this a phase, but that's okay. It is what it is, you know?
Recently I got in touch again with this guy. He and I used to date back in '96 and I was madly in love with him. We broke up eventually, as I was "too mature" for him (his words, not mine) and we had very sporadic contact on line over the next few years. He was working at the Mexican Embassy in D.C. until last December and he's moved back to Mexico City. We got in touch around the time of my birthday and he invited me to go to visit, offering even to pay for my plane ticket. This caught me completely by surprise, as I'm not sure what exactly I'd be agreeing to by accepting his offer (how does one *ask* that without coming off as a complete moron? No, seriously, I need to know!) and I just mulled it over for the next few days. Eventually I used the weather as an excuse, as I'm a complete wuss and have ZERO winter clothes, and invited him to come down here instead. We don't have a set date for that as he's about to start his new job with the GDF so I don't really know if/when this is going to happen and I don't really know what to expect.
In more mundane news,
THE COLTS
ARE GOING
TO THE SUPER BOWL!
I still don't have plans to watch it. The girls in my team are going to somebody's ranch and making a whole-day deal out of it with barbecue, pool and whatnot but I'm not completely sure I want to go along. Truth be told, I think there's bound to be a lot more alcohol than I'm comfortable with and I don't fancy the drive back at night. I'd much rather have a smaller gathering where I can really enjoy the game.
Ah, the team. Where to begin with that? Last season was a disaster. Some of the people in the team, the veteranas, are accustomed to getting lots of play time with little effort during practice and doing more what they want to do than actually having to listen to the coach. Which was fine when Alex was our coach, because as long as he had enough people to show up for matches and we managed to win now and then he was happy. This year, however, we got a GREAT coach. He coached the UNAM teams for several years and he really knows his business. He's also someone for whom discipline means EVERYTHING and he expects players to show up for practice, work hard, know the plays and do exactly as they're told before they even get any time on the field. While I think this is awesome and that's the way things should go, it didn't sit well with a lot of the veterans and so a struggle for control of the team followed, resulting in the coach quitting out of principle. We're now back with Alex as a coach and things pretty much back to the way they have always been. It sucks and I really feel I should quit as well, but at the same time there is no other team where I can play and no coach worth their salt. So I'm going through the motions and showing up for practice but my heart's not in it.
I'm sure there's more I need to say, but I'm all typed up and I have to prepare for a lecture I need to give tomorrow. Cheers,
No need to point out the obvious, right? I haven't updated in the longest time (although I have made an effort to keep up with you guys and even comment). I could make a lot of excuses for that, but the long and the short of it is that it's a lot easier to facebook / tweet a few cryptic words (a little bit like Doogie Howser's journal) than it is to face the blank page LJ update page.
So now I've worked up the courage and will fill you in in the gap that was the last couple of months.
On November 23rd I moved to a new apartment. I had been living at my old place since June 1st, 2004 - a grand total of five and a half years. For you guys to understand what that means, you gotta know that before then I lived in Mexico City for about three years when I was born (and I don't remember any of it, so it doesn't really count), a rented house in Córdoba until I was about 7, the house my dad built until I was 12, my grandparents' old house on and off for a couple of years and then my grandparents' new house from then until I had the moronic idea to hook up with the Treacherous Bastard. After that it was small houses and apartments that we vacated after one-year leases expired. That apartment was the first time I was *settled*. So of course it was hard to move. Now that I have had time to process it, I think it worked for the best. It's a smaller place, yes, but it's on a much quieter street, I have my own parking spot, I live right across from a park and there are children in the buildings on either side that my own kids can play with. I guess moving made my "soltería" (Merriam Webster tells me the word I'm looking for is "spinsterhood", but I just refuse to use it, it sounds horrible!) final and that's why I had such a hard time with the whole thing.
< / self-psychoanalisis>
The month of December was hard for me. My grandma started deteriorating really fast and after what was apparently a second stroke, the first one being 10 years ago, she passed away on December 26th. I would lie to you if I said my relationship with my grandma was good. She was a strong, very opinionated woman and for better or worse she was a very strong influence in my life. Some of her actions contributed to some of the stupidest decision-making in my life and that in turn caused our estrangement for the better part of ten years. However, I know that she meant well and I am only sorry I didn't get to spend more time with her. I didn't go to her funeral because my mother, who takes strong and opinionated to a whole other level, decided she didn't want to have a wake that would be more of a social gathering than a moment of mourning so she had my grandma buried the same day ... I kind of hated it, I think I should have been there but I realize it wasn't my choice to make.
One of my clearest memories of my grandma is from a room of the house until recently I didn't use much - the kitchen. I must have been about fifteen or sixteen and we'd just moved to the new house with my grandparents. As it happens with every move, my grandma went through the whole "out with the old" phase and decided that her recipe book needed to be transcribed. This book was more a collection of recipes she'd jotted and scribbled over a long time, and there were things in there she hadn't made in years. She decided her handwriting wasn't good enough (and it wasn't, not even she could decipher some of her notes!) so I was in charge of the monumental task. I can't remember right now whether we ever finished, I think we must have given up on it at some point, but I do remember that I spent a lot of time in the kitchen - cooking! - for a while. Since Christmas, once it became obvious that the inevitable was inminent, I've started cooking again. Cooking with a vengeance, saying without words everything that never really came out of my mouth. I don't really know if I can call this a phase, but that's okay. It is what it is, you know?
Recently I got in touch again with this guy. He and I used to date back in '96 and I was madly in love with him. We broke up eventually, as I was "too mature" for him (his words, not mine) and we had very sporadic contact on line over the next few years. He was working at the Mexican Embassy in D.C. until last December and he's moved back to Mexico City. We got in touch around the time of my birthday and he invited me to go to visit, offering even to pay for my plane ticket. This caught me completely by surprise, as I'm not sure what exactly I'd be agreeing to by accepting his offer (how does one *ask* that without coming off as a complete moron? No, seriously, I need to know!) and I just mulled it over for the next few days. Eventually I used the weather as an excuse, as I'm a complete wuss and have ZERO winter clothes, and invited him to come down here instead. We don't have a set date for that as he's about to start his new job with the GDF so I don't really know if/when this is going to happen and I don't really know what to expect.
In more mundane news,
THE COLTS
ARE GOING
TO THE SUPER BOWL!
I still don't have plans to watch it. The girls in my team are going to somebody's ranch and making a whole-day deal out of it with barbecue, pool and whatnot but I'm not completely sure I want to go along. Truth be told, I think there's bound to be a lot more alcohol than I'm comfortable with and I don't fancy the drive back at night. I'd much rather have a smaller gathering where I can really enjoy the game.
Ah, the team. Where to begin with that? Last season was a disaster. Some of the people in the team, the veteranas, are accustomed to getting lots of play time with little effort during practice and doing more what they want to do than actually having to listen to the coach. Which was fine when Alex was our coach, because as long as he had enough people to show up for matches and we managed to win now and then he was happy. This year, however, we got a GREAT coach. He coached the UNAM teams for several years and he really knows his business. He's also someone for whom discipline means EVERYTHING and he expects players to show up for practice, work hard, know the plays and do exactly as they're told before they even get any time on the field. While I think this is awesome and that's the way things should go, it didn't sit well with a lot of the veterans and so a struggle for control of the team followed, resulting in the coach quitting out of principle. We're now back with Alex as a coach and things pretty much back to the way they have always been. It sucks and I really feel I should quit as well, but at the same time there is no other team where I can play and no coach worth their salt. So I'm going through the motions and showing up for practice but my heart's not in it.
I'm sure there's more I need to say, but I'm all typed up and I have to prepare for a lecture I need to give tomorrow. Cheers,