my "new mom" title...

Well...
Now I'm a mom, so apparently It's normal that I use this as the diary of my "mom journey"
I can try....
quizás no sea tan grave...
recientemente he entrado a un par de chats grupales en los que coincide el hecho de haber pasado años sin juntarnos y tener contacto... algunos nos recordamos, de otros tenemos vagos recuerdos, y de otros ni idea...
yo me sigo preguntando que pasaría con mi perfil de Hi-5....
El caso es que el denominador común de estos chats es la añoranza de esos recuerdos, esas historias en algunos casos a medias, o de recuerdos parcializados...
Así que quizás nuestros hijos si aprecien el tener un diario, una revista de acontecimientos, una historia de sus vidas contadas por unos "protagonistas" secundarios que vendríamos a ser los padres...
well... let's see how it works... or if it works...

Como de una Novela

Stories are Everywhere.

Life and soaps are filled with them. We are the product of our parent’s stories, our grandfathers, our uncles, our friends, and all the people that have bumped into our lives and our relatives.

Están las historias de las novelas:

El niño rico que se enamora de la niña pobre; la niña mala que se enamora del novio de la amiga tonta; la mujer madura que se enamora del amigo del hijo…

Y están las historias del mundo real que conozco bastante bien:

El hijo de fulanito (apellido reconocido en la sociedad) que se casa con la ex novia de un traficante, ex presidiria y ex rehabilitada de drogas. La de mi amiga que su madre se re-caso con el padre de su hermano mayor luego de haberse divorciado de su padre por 2da vez. La de mis amigos que le dan un sentido mas real a la frase “primo-hermanos” siendo hijos del mismo padre y de madres hermanas. La de mi amiga que se enredo con el esposo de la tía de su mejor amiga, y terminaron siendo una familia feliz.

Yo, como tú, no me quedo atrás, también tengo mi share de historias:

He sido protagonista de la historia con el galán que mantenía otra relación paralela, igual de formal e igual de pública y familiar que conmigo. Me enamore en un aeropuerto del caballero de armadura dudosa que me salva de llegar tarde a un vuelo y se las arregla para al mismo tiempo ser el superhéroe defensor de abuso a personas mayores, Uf! Todo un galán! Y quien por supuesto tenía ya su doncella. También protagonice brevemente la historia típica del que jura dejara a su mujer embarazada para amarme para siempre, sin embargo hoy ya se casaron y tienen 3 hijos. Participe en la vida del eternamente enamorado de su ex, que buscaba olvidarla entre mis brazos, sin embargo a la primera que ella decide recogerlo, no dudo en regresar. También he sido la mala en alguna historia, como en la del súper bueno, creyente y familiar, que por supuesto nadie ve que no trabaja y no hace el mínimo esfuerzo por levantar su vida, pero si esta enamoradísimo de mi y se declara heartbreak by me.

Y esta mi ultima historia, la cúspide de todas aparentemente, en la que me atreví a soñar con el de los pies en la tierra, prospecto estable, futuro decente y capaz de amar; pero quien tuvo un idilio fugaz con una de mis hermanas hace años, y el tema se convirtió en su fantasma. De repente la habladuría de la sociedad, su determinación por ser un role model para sus hijos, su actual y pasajera situación laboral y económica, su inseguridad frente al futuro y su miedo a luchar y a arriesgarse, todas razones muy validas, se convirtieron en una carga muy pesada para continuar esta historia.

Hay finales felices, si los hay, por supuesto que los hay. Y quizás no será esta la historia con final feliz, quizás tampoco lo sea la próxima. Pero todos tenemos un final feliz, lo queramos o no, conformes o no, todos tenemos uno.

I’m not quite ready for my happy ending just right now, I wanna’ feel a little and learn some, grow a bit better out of this mess, and understand my role on my next story.

Then… then I will have my The End! That for sure will be a New Beginning!

Let's Change Everything!

This has been going on for so long, that i don't know anymore the line betwen real Love or just used to fight for it.

Kind of sad, i walk out of his place and didn't felt the impulse to go back... like before.

I know he'll be there, he will always be... But, do i want to go back to his empty heart, or do i want to move on, do i want to wear out my streght on the persuit of something i dont think i believe anymore...

It's time to change!

Let's change Everything!

How?

First:

Focuse on what really matters; work, education, family, friends... make your own ranked list. Think, and think hard, on the future you want for yourself, people aside, blank faces.

Paint the place were you wanna be; home, vacational spot, public place...

Second:

Try to mach those images with "the catch" and see if his face fills out the blank....

If it does... i dont know... take the risk, take the chance, at least thats what "they" say.

If not... take the list and start to Make It Happen! with luck, this will fill your heart until The Next Best Thing comes along...

Third:

Change!

Buy new clothes, wear something you never wore before.

Go out for dinner. Have a bottle of your favorite drink with your friends and talk about the fear of changing; then, order something different...

Go to work next day and adress that task you didnt want to. Do it like you love it, worst part is that you end up really loving it.

At home; Move the paintings on the wall, change their order, change the pictures frames... or get crazy: change the pictures!; Clean your room, get rid of old items, make a list of new ones and let your friends know your wish list (this would help them on presents ideas); Wash the dishes, even clean the fancy ones you dont use, then give away the old ones and start to use the "china" ones as regulars, put a new set of fancy ones your wish list. Convince your mom to do this with you.

Reunite with your family; visit that cousin you promise years ago and never did, invite grandma over, go to your parents and talk to them about the future... then, paint your own family portrait.

Last:

Take your decision.

No matter wich way you went, never go back.

Be faithfull to your decision till its over... You dont decide when its over, the reach of the goal does.

Dont cheat on yourself, dont betray yourself; if you do, go back and find your path, Change Everything again, your goal is worth it.

In order to go somewere, you got to Have a Goal

Not easy to Love You

I'm a weird girl... it's not news...

I've always been.

But that doesent mean much on love matters...

I love strong

I love Soft

I love blind

I love sweet and sexy

I love like any other girl.

So it's not easy to love you.

To love you i have to be your friend, your lover, your carer, your pal, your drink partner, your pillow... I have to be comprehensive, pacient, funny, counselor, smart, appropriate, good.

I have to be approved by your friends, your mother, your family, your boss, your work associates, even your preist have a say on me.

It's not easy to love you when you expect me to be perfectly clean and preatty after the party you invented last night.

It's not easy for me to love you when your childish behaviour hurted me, and you still think on the problems the situation caused you.

It's not easy for me to love you when you come home after you got tired of "the flavor of the month" that i'm not supposed to know about.

It's not easy to love you... but it's done.

I love you when you make me smile, when you look at me like no other, when you say that lie cause you think its better for me, when you bare with my anoying silence, and when you want me to love you.

I love you couse no one else would understand my cinic sense of humor, my moods, my creativity, my inventions, my need of space; my way to drive my car, my work, my life.

I love you, it's not easy to love you.

Smile

Lilly allen

A Story on a Sticker

I don’t know if my crazy mind play’s tricks on me, but often when I look at some object of my past I find myself remembering (?) a story.

I think I’ve never shared this story before, not even with my parents, and when looking at the wall of stickers in my room door I remembered it… I might as well write it down until I forget about it again…

Few years ago (I think I was 8 to 10), my dad were founder and president of the Events Organization Association of our island, and he had to travel a lot, but he always managed to be here for the important dates. On this story scenario he had to live for a few months in Panama, Isla Contadora, so he was there, of course, for the month of my birthday; and if you have read this blog before you’ll know that not many fun stuff happens to me on that particular date, but my dad somehow have always a positive attitude towards it, so not having him here really sucked.

The thing is that a congratulations phone call wasn’t enough, until this box came…

Inside, the best birthday present that I ever got:

A Box of Chocolate

But regardless of what you could think, this wasn’t a regular box of chocolate, it had for a cover a puzzle of a Princesa Caballero (which cartoons image I have in my mind but have fail to describe)... The chocolates were beautifully wrapped in some flowered printed papers that, when you unfold them, became stickers.

In my sticker’s wall is this purple flower, down in a row of the “My Name is Panama” sticker, the reminding of this story.

I don’t know why this simple thing meant so much to me. But since then I know that even the tiniest, little, and most simple detail, can mean a lot more, to me, than the most expensive or show of present.

Thanks to my wall and to the playboy who asked about it, now I have my best birthday present back…

Very smart of me!

Today, the Wall, my room door, is not there anymore, but i'm glad i remembered this story before the paint took it away.

- Ninecircus -

Gratefull

No one!

Recibi este fragmento en un correo en el dia de hoy... me parecio taaaan apropiado que no me aguante la tentacion de publicarlo aqui...

No one falls in love by choice,

it is by CHANCE.

No one stays in love by chance,

it is by WORK.

And no one falls out of love by chance,

it is by CHOICE

Belanova

- Este mundo Gira -

I went out with a Playboy

My first weekend with the playboy

(Part I)

* The following content must have been altered for amusement purposes, and it's almost entirely the result of the imagination of the writer based on her own experiences.

* The author does not hold herself responsible for any mixed feelings or disagreements this text could bring to the readers.

Enjoy!

***

**

I met him at a wedding cause of my bold sense of humor and because my sister introduced us.

After dancing until tired and a lot of drinks later, we went after partying with a couple of guests, to one of them's place. Of course it had a pool, which I didn’t try… Thank God for the period.

El hecho de no haber compartido en la piscina con el resto del grupo no redujo nuestra diversión, en lo contrario, la hizo mas privada por tener el resto de la casa para nosotros. Así en el gazebo de la piscina se probó un poco de mi resistencia y la frescura de ambos en pro de nuestros no muy diferentes objetivos… in short… we were pretty wasted.

Claro que intercambiamos números, y claro que fuimos lo suficientemente arrogantes como para no prometernos tontamente el comunicarnos. Así fue que no supe de el sino hasta 2 semanas después cuando, de nuevo a través de mi hermana, i ended up making him a tiny work favor. The next weekend we talked and went out that same night.

It ended up beeing a pretty amazing weekend. On Friday we went for a drink and dance a little, and after that to his place so we could be alone and comfortable. Nothing really happened that night, I made clear nothing will (I still have a conscience, my new word for morale, somewhere!!), and he is, of course, a gentlemen... One thing I must give him: he's sensual as hell and we had a blast together, in fact, we still have. Whether alone or out with a party, he actually brings out my playful fun side to the best.

Saturday was very well planned: we would talk during the day to coordinate the getting together for the rave that night. We left at 6 pm more or less, picked up a couple of friends of him, and we were on our way.

This is how I truly knew that He is a playboy. Of course there was no need to pay for entrance, though we were on the VIP area, and of course he knew everyone there, including the huge breasted girl that asked him for his actual girlfriend. And the girlfriends he has had!... the guy’s he’s friend’s with… They all looked like out of a Jet Set magazine, like the pictures of the “latest party of the month”. And it was, at least I thought, a very good party, but all they comment about was the fiasco that this rave was being.

Again, I had a lot of fun, a LOT of fun I mean. A pesar de escucharlo comentar sobre los defectos de cada una de las modelos de los Colombian Bathing Suits on the runway, when, for the first time in ages, I started to feel insecure about my own flatness, cellulites, rolls, and stretch marks, the ones that I’m so proud of after I lost those 85 pounds that ain’t coming back no more. A pesar de ver aquellas rubias voluptuosas y aquellos mujerones con tremendos cuerpazos y poca ropa all over him saying just "hi” and asking about when its going to be their next private encounter; claro que ninguna le paro al hecho de yo estuviera a su lado with him holding my hand (I was invisible for them), even then I had fun. But that’s when it hitted me the though of being another “one night stand”, the entertainment for the weekend (one of my greatest fears of all times), despite that I actually had a Great time, and he made very clear to everyone there that he was with me… that we were together.

No soy una mujer insegura, ni mucho menos de las que se impresionan o se intimidan fácilmente, de hecho I’m a handfull for must guys… not for him, cause he got he’s ways, but for common and regular guys I surely am. Es por eso que esa noche tampoco fue a big of a deal for me, and I found refreshing that he has normal friends too, friends with girlfriends that I connected very well with, and made him realize (Como me entere un poco mas tarde) that they though I was “a good and cool girl that he should keep around”.

This will continue...

Medicina para el alma

- Calor Urbano -