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"Let's get going, these people will want to sleep"

Well, boys. The long-awaited night has arrived. Finally the planets have aligned and coinciding with the end of the month, this you see here (figuratively, of course) is preparing to take to their heels and go for the same site you came. Behind me are countless hours of desk, the odd pitch inconvenient, whole nights in white, a disjointed amalgam of idle thoughts and countless bottles of Coke, fanta, sprite and Cacaolat. Five hours separate me from freedom, the return to daily living, yet I'm not sure what I learned from all this. It is very likely that nothing. In any event, good or bad, I'll see in the coming weeks. From what I know for certain is that the experience of working at night does not convince me finish. For someone else, someone who can enjoy moments of solitude by employing them in something more than killing lice or removed Cerullo of the ears, may be a rewarding experience, an opportunity to disconnect from the world and devote himself exclusively to . For me, however, has been too and in more than one occasion has come to overdo. In fact, as I write these words, my mood is in STANDBY, waiting for something or someone press the PLAY and may recover "a little bit of normalcy" (My God, I just quote "Song the Fool, "that is the end). One of the few really good that I have allowed this work is to dedicate part of my time watching some movies that were pending. In these three months I have seen Seven Samurai , Donnie Darko , Carrie , Samaritan Girl, Goodfellas , a perfect world, City of God, Broken Flowers , Hannah and Her Sisters , The Treasure of Sierra Madre , The five conditions, Cradle Will Rock, A Streetcar Named Desire, Annie Hall and the occasional episode of Futurama . Not much, true, but as I say, I have not known for having taken advantage of my time. I wish to know it better from now on.

Regarding this last point, my future, I will try to keep you informed on another blog that will probably open to get to Madrid. But just in case, do not assure anything. For now, I have my head on other things and I think I must focus on them during a season, until you get to them, and my head, reach a certain level of stability. Later, we'll see.

Either way, it was a real pleasure, a privilege to share these nights, your worships. Your words, always well received, have been very helpful in these nights partying or light or laughter, or bed, and will remain on the go, wherever you are, since you always carry with me in my backpack. I hope that luck accompany you in all your plans, you know cope with the despair and, above all, you will continue being true to yourself, because only in that way life has some meaning.

And nothing else, I do not want to put heavy (it is tricky to tell me that I have tortured marathon entries). If you need me, you know where to find me: you just have to say my name five times in the mirror and will appear on your backs to flay with my hook ... Huy no, that says Candyman, not me. Finally, I leave with a Latin quotation, normally recorded in epitaphs but I, changing her appearance, I think very valid for life. I transcribed and on another occasion, but I think it is a good time to write back: Sit nobis vita levis. That life would be mild. DIXI



PS: I leave with some photos (real) Overlook and one of my own person with his swimming pool shortly before dawn. For the women who read this blog to melt with pleasure, hehe.

Herbal Supplements Blog

Post too long and whose level decreases as one progresses in his reading

finally entered the home stretch of my stay at the Overlook. At this point, counting tonight, and I only have 38 hours and 19 minutes to give as fulfilled my mission in early autumn, and therefore, come down-Costa Brava. If all goes well, Saturday morning pedalearé back to my house one last time and with the confidence of having played my job with the utmost professionalism of which I have been able. And, in all this time, computer derangements, theft midnight and understandable nod after hours apart, my observance of the obligations of a night clerk has been impeccable. It is true that if you were to know what I have devoted much of my time here, watch movies on the computer, internet wandering, talking on the phone and on numerous occasions, leaving everything to the last minute, "the good opinion My heads have of me would go a little adrift. But I say bad luck would have so that in what little I have left, all this came to their attention.

Anyway, my faults are not so bad and my behavior is so serious as to raise Cain (" anyone know who invented this absurd expression?), I do not doubt that in the eyes of an outside observer, my attitude would be most calm and rational, given the circumstances and through a lot in that I strive to say that I I have become a Jack Torrance Asturias. At the end of the day, my case is just one more, and seemingly insignificant, from the haunting gallery of characters who populate the Overlook and that Overall, one can find in this kind of crazy places. Incontestable proof of this offered me some of my colleagues, of which I've submitted a couple of them and on the back today to illustrate my findings. Although in reality, only I am going to talk about one of them, who by their actions, their thinking and their physical appearance, deserves the honorary position of "Employee of the Overlook more disturbing, than the pursuit of other, no less revealing, as "the Broncos" or "Less Work" (for the latter, of course, myself I have many papers). His name is Antoine, is of French origin (as its name indicates, not that I was mistaken to spell it), must walk for 35 years and works as a waiter in the cafe. Its usually cover the morning shift, so you almost never agree, this only happens once a week, when Antonio-the-pound and Antoine Extremadura has to fill his hours, and already more than enough. At that time, shortly after I started working there and as he puts lock on the door of the bar, is dangerously extended time, the minutes seem like becoming an ice cream aisle, and all I want is that the above individual disappears through the door. Let me explain this reaction, unjustified in a person like me, so given to philanthropy and communication between cultures:

I do not know if you will have noticed that both a bartender and the other show the same name, though in different languages, for that matter, potatoes (another expression worthy of legal proceedings). This fact demonstrates, according to what many experts do not stop to point out that history repeats itself, in a veiled enough that there is no tedious or repetitive, but it is repeated. And that brings me here directamiente to my experiences last year in Madrid, where he shared the apartment with two guys who called Paul and they were, not going into details, polar opposites. But that's another story and should not go by the hills of Ubeda (go, we continue with the expresioncitas). All I want to stress to bring it up is how the names, after all, do not make as much as we say (it is also true that it is not called Antonio Agapito, but that's another matter), and this case is but another proof of that point.

Antonio is a very sociable guy, a hard worker who always has something to guide you and you could count on many occasions. His relationship with Sylvia, as I said, is its -handicap more than anything, because it went without eating or drinking and now can not find the no outlet, "but even so, is a type, as they say, legal. Antoine, however, is an oddball from the beginning that arouses concern by whomsoever interlocutor. His look unbalanced, his gait half drunken and nasal speech, form a cover letter that makes what comes next is hard to get without some prejudice. For the record, despite everything, that I have not formed an opinion of him until later and if it is true that these details concerning their physical, are obvious from the outset, I tried to stay as fair as possible As for my dealings with him and not only because they pronounce demonize While the R's (among other reasons, traspirenaica origin, although, I must say, has spent more years in Spain than myself) However, his character is another matter.

negative view I have of Antoine (and with which I am going to go, I'm afraid) is mainly due to two events at the hotel, one of which I was sadly involved. The first was made two months when I was still in the process of acclimatization and still see my partner as a rational person. That night, my opinion changed dramatically. Around half 12 and a client came joyous, chattering in French and exhorting to do something that, at first, because my French Murcia, did not understand. His state of excitement and the speed with which such words were spat out, dip it took sign language and even more to onomatopoeia, at last, ended to understand what I was trying to communicate. Apparently, she and her husband had been concluded with Antoine, who were united not only the language and origin, but also the many drinks that are borne by the house once this had finished his shift at the cafeteria, which had resulted in that, while the couple was going fine for the bed (especially the husband, who I could see faint on a column when I went outside), Antoine had been dismissed completely drunk, on his way home, making, not eses, but z, r and even double vee. And as your house is the antithesis of Sant Feliu, about two or three kilometers away, the chances that came safely to there were rather minimal. So at least it seemed to us when we go out and discerns its ailing figure on the horizon, about to collapse at any time. The client, meanwhile, urged me to do something, to force him to take a taxi or, alternatively, to wait until you pass the chant. And that's what I tried to do: I ran up he laboriously ascending the generous slope flanking the entrance to the Overlook, and said, with strong words that should be left pod and asked for a taxi. At first I hardly recognized: his eyes, already slanted, like two slots slot machine and the dreamy expression (being light) of his face denoted a rather unfortunate intoxicated. Then, however, the woman came to us and, in French, again, I could not, convinced him that would turn around and think of a better way to spend the drunkenness that letting run over there ... at least that is my personal interpretation of uncontrolled speech which gave to Antoine while this is staggering and mumbling half way between French and English ("Andorra?). The fact is that, finally, the three of us set off back to the hotel, the waiter half-conscious, France tipsy and perplexed receptionist Antoine willing to deposit it somewhere until it was transportation. Meanwhile, the neighbor sharing the language in which I participated only occasionally with emphatic nods (not quite sure what was my acquiescence) and occasional "Ye Crua meyer you pranne quil é shose the taxi an "whose meaning was diluted in ethyl air, still and all seemed to come shortly little, to fruition. So we a while, almost calm, until breaking all my dreams to see me now free of that uncomfortable situation, the hapless waiter announced to all and sundry that he had no money for the taxi. Then came the most embarrassing moments: first, the woman took the opportunity to say goodbye and ride in the car with her crippled husband, starting to get into the car, while the other, I tried to persuade Antoine that seen I did not have a guy to give the driver, it was best to stay with me and so the air conditioning at the reception will help to calm the drunk. The waiter, however, ignored my words and in an act of courage and pathos, clung to her arm and began to ask for money. You can imagine my surprise and the sense of "earth, swallow me" to me at that moment. Luckily the client seemed to good people, or was cute enough, and did not take me wrong, but, looking at me and laughing, merely tell me to do something, they had to go to sleep and although they were Antoine friends could not do anything for him. And I, that the negotiations that I was not very good at, I went to the mentioned subject and I grabbed him to stop starring in the sad scene and try to be calm, to see if it was wrong the cogorza. But no: he who insisted and insisted, and the others who tried to leave and put the car without being rude, and he is not tired, and I there, not knowing what to do, trying to raise his voice even more, to see if they managed to impose my authority and prevent those acquired tragic dimensions. Until, on my last attempt, I tried to put the force in the hotel and he was exalted to a critical point that I thought would lead to a punch, squirmed and screamed with all his might "Oh, shut up! Shut up! ". That was what decided the outcome, at least mine, who, to this argument, there was more output than washing hands and turn away from this whole circus, for which I had tried solution but in the end, I had reported more than discomfort and discordant cries. So I left there, without explanation, and returned to the reception, not willing to put up more nonsense to Antoine. He, meanwhile, went begging for alms until no longer possible and, abandoned by all, went his way home, that between the client and I had tried to avoid. With Cristofer that, at least, not any misfortune happened on the way, otherwise, I would have been fatal.

this mismatch is located in my change of mind about Antoine. Their behavior that night seemed so inconsiderate and, bluntly, as tocacojones, I decided never to speak to him if it was not necessary. Since then I have tried to maintain a relationship as distant and cold with him, although, curiously, he is treating me as if nothing had happened, telling his life and even making me all kinds of jokes. His character, however, leaves more to wish every day that passes and it would enter endless detail all the points on which I rely for saying this. In addition, it would be quite unfair, I never liked this kind of lynching. I refer you to settle for another story to which I referred at the beginning, which occurred today, shortly before I came to work. So I told Caroline, another of my colleagues receive, "one of the elders these days, sponsored by the INSERSO, staying at our hotel, went to ask him a bowl of fruit, which the previous day, Antonio offered him no problem. Antoine, however, refused to give it, saying you go to know what scruples, to what Grandpa, without thinking twice, he responded to his refusal calling him "midget" and "asshole" rant, come disproportionately. Antoine reaction, nevertheless, was swift and, making a move to remove the apron, he assured the old bully who had no problem going out and become involved with Smite him. I'm not sure how the thing ended, but it is clear that neither reached the hands and the grandfather took the precious bowl. Anyway, I do not need to know the outcome to be sure that Antoine was serious and that, in these few days I have, I'd better not get too close to him.

Football Salieri Online

Cuts

In times of crisis, when the media are to brawl and acids are discussed, bilateral, table games and other things worthy of mention, World continues to contribute their grain of sand the construction of a news freak, ideal to keep up to date with what happens in that parallel universe where the unusual becomes ordinary. This is one of his latest gems, rescued from the Sunday edition of September 17:

Interior finances literary contest Lubricia

"lubricants condom as a dual protection ". This is the curious slogan that slides into one of the last campaigns launched between the English prison population, the program Lubricia . An initiative of Directorate General of Corrections, the Ministry of Interior , which is part of the National AIDS Plan and that is justified by the recent addition of oil to the toilet lots that they are given to prisoners with condoms and other products.

To expand its use in schools has chosen a literary contest in which the inmates themselves, "as equals", try to educate their peers through short stories and comics that have to relate on the use of lubricant during sex. The strange thing is that these campaigns are carried out between the inmates without being tested before the general population.

The campaign is based on two assumptions. On the one hand, reported that the prevalence of sexually transmitted infections in prisons is higher than the general population for the limited use of preventive devices among inmates. In this regard, the technicians say that the wounds are "gateways" of the infection so that the lubricant plays a protective role. Furthermore, they say, the fact that they are the prisoners themselves who explain, through its literary works, the rest of the right internal-use lubricant on the condom or directly on the genitals, "favors the reception of the message. So even the triptych of the campaign Lubricia has been made by prisoners.

And after reading this, I ask you, will be released to the public the winning entries? What is exactly the prize? What freedom? "In a lot of lubricants and / or lubricated? And, more importantly, what do you mean by "entry"? Unfortunately, there is no indication of the contest or clarify if we are not behind bars can also participate. We will have to wait, as he says, such a campaign is carried out on the street.

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Sven Nykvist (1922-2006)

First of all, let me dedicate a tribute to one of those men who have made a great art film, the outstanding Swedish cinematographer Sven Nykvist, discovered by Alf Sjöberg but remembered mainly for its glorious unique collaborations with Ingmar Bergman. Without their expertise, the work of brilliant Scandinavian director would never have become what it is. Circus Night , The Virgin Spring, Persona , Hour of the Wolf and especially Cries and Whispers and Fanny and Alexander , whose work in both films get Oscar-category awards are the most outstanding samples that expertise is always earned the highest praise and she attracted other directors likes of Roman Polanski, Louis Malle and Woody Allen, with whom he collaborated on Celebrity . Today, 22 September, just two days left us , at the age of 83 years, and all movie lovers mourn his irreparable loss. Only we have the consolation of his work, perfect and unfading.

Wherever you are, thanks!



Bergman and Nykvist during a shoot

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A last minute recommendation

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Jobs and weary nights

After reflecting for hours, make calculations of all kinds, shuffle the pros and cons and try to abstract to the point of complete objectivity, I have to the conclusion that I am to the genitals of this work. Since I only have nine days here and, frankly, I can not wait to sneak away with the loot. My body and mind have reached an extreme wear such that not even coordinate their actions, which have a direct and immediate: I'm less of anything soup. More than one might think we're back to the golden times of the master, when it was known in class for my sudden fuss neck and could not move from the third hour with a coke to take throat, but no, this is much more serious, and I think if does not stop soon I'll end up digging a hole in the reception and ducking inside to rest at ease, only to say that three nights ago I had a bed with four chairs ... But do not be alarmed, I was just lying down for twenty minutes, and he could not with the soul. In short, I'm already pretty saturated so quiet, so lonely and so little sleep. At this time also complicate things further, that if once due to my untimely hours, I saw very few people, not now I hardly see or to myself sometimes occurs to me that there was a nuclear war and I am the only survivor, planted behind the counter of a reception miraculously preserved in the middle of a crater and hoping the customer will never come. Anyway.

So this is how things are going, boys. My mood is again a little ominous plan (as well you can perceive), and now, what I want is to catch a train and plants dieciseismil miles from any hotel chain Overlook and also of my colleagues. With them, as I said, keep a list of the most tangential, sometimes stays within the bounds of civility and even use (always minimum, not only because of the lack of affinity, but above all by the little time together) but at other times, however, is about to enter the realm of malice and gnashing of teeth. And it is very difficult to keep smiling and good manners when you see them come and party, to his own, displaying a complicity that I've never been, nor will be and, obviously, a participant and, in many cases, completely oblivious of my existence. In such situations, my smile becomes a grimace and lost, absurd and sadly neglected, I can not do more than hate my situation and promise to never again opt for a job to be an asocial body is little more than a requirement. But of course this is only in the worst moments and most of the time, keep a correct, even friendly, but distant-relationship with them, or at least enough to keep sterile as I racked my brain with metaphysical statements about friendship. The most symptomatic in this respect is perhaps that of Silvia, a 25-year-old Salamanca tourism and then studied communications who lived for a year in London, which brought a Cáceres-English and whose small size and apparent fragility, in addition to more rectilinear shapes, took my sister, soon to meet you, to baptize as "The Pin." My relationship with it has varied, from the very beginning, between acceptance and rejection, between closeness and rejection, which means that sometimes we are "colleagues", launching jokes about our situation in the hotel, about our colleagues or the principal, and in other cases we have spent enough of each other ... or, to be fair, I've been I who spent it, and I've never finished to convince his attitude, always given to a face of seriousness / superiority enough caffeine, which makes passing comments without any chicha jokes and does little to create a climate of friendliness and relaxation. It is also true that their relationship "illegitimate" with the waiter Extremadura is a remarkable point in the deterioration of our relations, because although a deal to keep him very friendly, the goings-on with that walk, all the disagreements, outbursts and other such nonsense that is often associated with concubinage, they bring me completely at anchor (for no other word to use more than one blush, but actually is closer to what this issue inspires me), so that each time they happen and I'm in the middle (that is, always, and my desk is next to the cafeteria, and is on the stretch of time between the two where squabbles usually take place and the other coming and going), I wish that life was as a television and had a hand remote to change channels at will, especially when I was vexed. If all of this, moreover, we add that more than one occasion I got to propose to be out of work, more nothing to spread in some way and try to build a richer social life than moths, or pond frog, and she, who knows if suspicious of my intentions (totally chaste, I swear, I Cristofer free) declined one after another or had the help of the elements to delay our departure, as you can imagine why our relationship has not gone beyond the formal. But hey, seeing more clearly now, I realize that I never saw as a potential friend or co-sprees, I always backtracked amoeba that attitude and that obsession with Antonio, the waiter, and that if I told you - this ... the said, forgiveness, toggle out there, it was only because I was a bit desperate and this was my only (or one of very few) nail into flames in my adventure to find something to do in Sant Feliu. But: I had a friend-Jordina-with which I would not have cared nothing more than words, but I regret to say that, as on other occasions, the attempt was foiled before it arrived in a port, neither good nor bad . What can we do. She loses it (typical strike action to overcome the pride).

Anyway, in nine days, as I said, I packed up and here again I do not see either in my next life. Not that I take an experience really negative, but lying if I said I would do it again (unless, of course, I put a bed on which mullidita rest my poor bones) I leave it to people who know how to deal with customers or, more Moreover, with his own demons. Madrid is waiting for me, the PhD-for which, incidentally, I already have the blessing, and even the blessing, my director, I looked forward, and my daily living, active, too. So much buzzed would if I decide to stay here (well, on the point of my sanity we need not enter into a discussion). I just hope that these days I have to go well and end in a dignified manner, without rolling any more than anything for both sides to retain a good memory of the other. Lest I spent something like what happened in Sweden, but-so did not know, "transcend" and, therefore, did not affect my public image, could have led to an exit through the front door : that of shame. Did not know what I'm talking about? Of course not! Who do you take me? In this secret only knowledgeable, that I know of three people, and I'm considering it against the knife that will not be of the tongue. But do not worry: it is nothing serious.

Well, I will continue to place explosive charges.

Panasonic What Does The B Mean

Albada

few days ago that I approach the blog and I guess you begin to miss me (or Forget me, which, all things considered, is far more disturbing). In fact, I've walked with a rather funereal humor, which I have not replaced until recently, and I did not want too get to type for about 45 minutes to give the beat with anecdotes completely void of interest, which also would not have been reviewed with the same verve and spontaneity to you I have used. To give you an idea of the state of lethargy and / or thickness that I have enjoyed recently, just tell yesterday, while writing a post about my unusual musical tastes, my passion for jazz and professed admiration for people like Miles Davis, I was fried, KO, defeated, to fall head over the keyboard and this time and yes, busts your computer. Very sad. Although, truth be told, we must also recognize that the text was a Peñaza much care, a review worthy of a prepubescent young man, a follower of the rapper of the moment, or a fan of ringtones and WALLPAPERS, which would have bored even the dead, with what my relapse is not so inexplicable after all, especially if we consider that, while he was writing, listening to Jo ão Gilberto and his "Girl from Ipanema" . In any case, I decided to send her to hell ( to the post, not the girl) and start a new chronicle, reflect on my days in Catalunya: we, as usual.

gradually September comes to an end and, thereby, also arrived at the end of my contract at the Overlook. Today I have asked them to give me free on the last day, ie 30 - and fortunately, they have given me, so I can spend two days " holiday "in Sant Feliu before embarking back to the capital of the Empire, though by then, if I go to the beach, I have to wear the anorak. But hey, better than nothing. not me, however, the only one going. Last Sunday, he said one of the girls farewell reception, Paula, of which, I realize now, I have never spoken ... although I've never stopped to speak any of my colleagues: only Extremadura, and in passing, cutting at the same level leading to the mouse that was confronted in the cafeteria. Today it seems a good day to start referring to them (When there is little more than a week so keep an eye).

The truth is that there is not much to tell, since, among which we disagree rather than shift changes, when one wants to go and the other one wants to go, "they have their own stories-lit and lived for the day, of which I am only full time after sunset and in which role I have more rarely than the night-helper and, to be honest, neither have much to offer, my relationship with them has been rather tangential and most of the time protocol. Nevertheless, we should not deny a some importance in the formation and nature of my surroundings, and an undeniable presence in the hilarious conversations that often have kept my sister, my brother and me about my work in the hotel. Indeed, if as real people, living tangible and have not shown much in my day to day (only stayed a couple of times to go out with them, and none of the two occasions I can say that the evening will close with snaps gold, precisely), its landscape and cartoon characters or puppets of the puppet theater owners, with each conversation, edified by telling the stories of my work has been truly remarkable. Let me explain further:

since the first week, all acquired a nickname, which, needless to say, never used in her presence and which would deny without any doubt, if questioned. With this, the cartoon-dimension, as I say, has reached unexpected dimensions, even to supplant his true personality, at least in my eyes, was developed at the same time his real self (if that exists ... Freudian vade retro! ). The version that I have left them, now that we got to the end and there are a number of possibilities that I did not return to cross in life, is thus a hybrid of reality, the objective and observable, and what I deprived of a fair knowledge of their people, I brought home-grown ... that, despite everything, I think not far wrong. We talk about the most egregious cases, dividing them into different inputs (which I is again entering sleep):

Alberto was, as you know, the buttons: the nickname of "Saccharin" was awarded, therefore, make immediately and unfailingly. His arrival there was already started in July, amid a heat wave ineffable, being the last to arrive and also the first to leave in late August. His departure was very similar to those who have to leave their country for political or judicial, and not rely on return to their homeland in many years is that, shortly before completing his contract, he faced the principal, pointing out each and every one of the blunders of his administration and accusing it of a thousand and a humiliation to which he claims were subject their workers. The boss's reaction was swift and without getting a strenuous arguments and develop thoughtful arguments, proceeded to remove him from office as he covered himself in glory with their shouts and threats. Come on, that little boot of work three or four days before the end. A reaction may disproportionate, but, to some extent, understandable, especially taking into account that Alberto had no more than 20 years, is not he who carries the hotel and at the end of the day, certain things should not go or come. And do not say it should make eyes blind-deaf-ear to the injustices that were taking place, but because their precarious and temporary nature of their contract advised to common sense, at least from my point of view, a less committed, a little more easygoing. Although I can be me who is wrong. Anyway, either way, the saga ended without too many consequences and the hotel is still the same mess as always. Alberto term

With today's post, which I have not been too lucid. Day or two (or ever, in this blog nothing can be taken for granted) you keep talking to my colleagues, waiting for a miracle or catastrophe occurs to give a little more interest to my faded bohemian life, and trying to use more in your description. For now, I'll see if I can clear my head a little (a coke at the bar would be welcome) and think about working something, to take the hit, more than anything.

May you all goes well, sailors.

What Is A Otolaynologist?

Partners

For the first time in two months-plus, I write from home. Are almost 8 in the morning and before getting into bed, I entertain myself by writing something that perhaps should have written in the hotel. To me, these minutes before going to sleep are the best of the day: After pedaling for ten or fifteen minutes, during which I meet with an unchanging display of characters (that one day, by the way, I will devote an entry), arrived at the gate of the house of my sister and me on the bike. The first recipient is Sita, with his usual nervousness and their unconditional surrender, to take every minute that you can enjoy quiet outside the home. On the street everything is quiet, although a few are beginning to detect sounds that foreshadow the beginning of the day, is like a giant stretching, finding the strength to face the morning. I, on the contrary, I'm done with my duties and, after instructing the dog to re-enter and close the gate, I go quietly to my room and trying to be careful, I deposit my two backpacks on the floor and Wear pajamas. After the windows are the first voices heard, cars that start, hurried footsteps, and believe it or not, roosters announcing the sunrise. At such times, to lay up my shirt after removing the greater in a bucket of water and fabric softener is one of the largest and most ridiculously tiny pleasures that can come to experience, feel the fresh air in the arms, breathing the tranquility of environment and observe the city still sleeps creates a sense of calm and hope hardly comparable. And then, of course, the breakfast, which my sister is with me with such enthusiasm as crusting, and where the plays are discussed our respective nights. Never missing the conversation and, while we devoured the grain, joins the ever-present morning show, not by repetitive and familiar, it is less funny at that time. Finally, close my eyes as I pass the pages of a book, lying in bed and waiting for the new day bring me know things that the previous one left in the room.

What Should Cm Be Like Before Af

Family history (quite boring, really)

My day began today 9 and half in the morning. After sleeping a little over an hour and wake up in the midst of thunder and lightning, I went with my father to Girona, in which college get something that had long been yearning and already I was beginning to seem as unattainable as the Holy Grail: I speak, of course, the attested copy of my bachelor's degree (in which, by the way, instead of saying "Don Nattvakten" says "Doña Nattvakten" and that it Excelsa issued Philology Faculty of the University of No Less Excelsa Oviedo!). This will allow me to finally complete the requirements needed to apply for admission to the doctorate and, moreover, plundering everything possible from grants and state officials, the Community of Madrid or the Iberian Peña my neighborhood, any source is valid. Because, as no doubt you all know, these bickering bureaucratic procedures are, as stated by Rimba that, "A Season in Hell" and even when you've already submitted all the papers, which have come to reach a thickness close to the summary of 11-M, you're not entirely sure if you've done well.

Anyway, anyway, things have gone well in the capital, the fact is that almost I can say that I was the only one in my family that has gone well the day (though not that has led to great things, if I must be honest). Shortly after leaving the campus, where my father and I felt a strange similar to the famous octopus of the garages, we headed to the suburbs in search of a lumberyard located in one of those sites where Time and life appear to be otherwise sick disturbing. Claiming an infant sleep and mood grayish these sites often awaken in me, I chose to stay in the car while my father went inside the ship with a piece of wood in his hand, which experts call "sample." In the meantime, I saw people from the most varied, being filled with garbage trucks, forklift driving faces of disgust or walking aimlessly defined, at a time poking me entertained between the discs that my father had left by the wayside in the glove and rarely leads to the player. I found several CDs of "Songs of Our Lives", in which appeared included from the Braves to The Consortium, a pair of discs pachanga, the latest in Bertin Osborne and, to crown the first "work" of David Bustamante. I am ashamed to say that was precisely what he heard my father playing on the speakers when, after half an hour, returned to the car. "Not a word to anyone, huh?" I urged him, though he, luckily, my mind was elsewhere and that is that in the store, after it all that time waiting at the counter, had told Wood had not he asked, with what had become empty handed and a gesture of disgust comparable to most of the people swarming around these dollars, and was not even shown in their hands, which I did fantasize that maybe, in an act of supreme desperation, she had head match any dependents. But it was not so, and besides, the misfortunes they had only just begun.

The next surprise (the first, actually, as the other no longer a story of the most bland I've tried to beautify my careful prose) waiting for us to get home, when we opened the garage door and an odor smelly, out of who knows what hell, we were met by: Sita, my sister's dog (careful with jokes), had fallen prey to panic about the terrible storm that had swept Sant Feliu and in the midst of the paroxysm, the leg had gone down. "The fucking shit God bitch!" Was the polite and thoughtful verdict of my father. But that was not all because, although the canine urine odor is not that much to look like a Parisian fragrance, there was not where it came from the stench, but something that my father was fortunate to find the room, carefully stacked, and made that the above expression of the leg become meaningful. A subsequent discovery followed the admonition of the can-which, given the circumstances, it was very hard, and Cicero's speech in which my father threw shit about the custom of having animals in townhouses. Soon, however, things began to calm down and we all put on our respective tasks.

Yet worse was to come. From our arrival, the storm had recurrence and in less than ten minutes, had intensified overwhelmingly. The dog could not be more scared shitless: outside seemed to resound throughout the land and be on the verge of splitting into two. Meanwhile, I meddle with the computer and my father took food, both awaited the arrival of others who had gone to Barcelona to resolve certain bureaucratic issues such (of course). And then, in one of those broke THE GREAT LIGHTNING, which was followed by loud thunder, and light the whole house, as expected, went to hell instantly. "Oh God," he said in the dark. For its hand, Sita hid under my legs, trembling and about to suffer a heart attack. But in less than two minutes, my father found the fuses and made to return the light as fast as he was gone, which I saw with relief that, contrary to what I had feared, the team and its connection to the electricity grid continued to function quite normally. "Wow," I said, unable to draft more reflective, after which I proceeded to continue my zascandileo per inmate. But horror! Internet had stopped working and so annoying, I kept the screen appear which informs us that "Unable to establish connection to the server. "Well, we do not get nervous," he said, "let's see if it works in the well of Naomi and verify if it is that I have singed the network card. And that's when happened: I hit the power button on the computer of my sister and this is not lit. appeared a red light, began to operate the fan, but neither was charged and appeared Windoze processor logo or anything, in contrast, was like in a coma, with some vital signs, but completely useless. I turned it off and turned it on, and the same. Once again, nothing changed. "Now that we've screwed up," was the final sentence.

And indeed, everything was screwed. There had to wait more than an hour to return my relatives to see what I already feared: the board had made "poof" and the computer had been disabled. "Well, okay, what a tragedy, so what?" I will say (if you still even there), "at the end of the day, it's just a crumpled junk, more was lost in the war." Yes, but that in the case of my sister, it so happens that it is not just a gizmo, but the basis of their livelihoods, their tool, where you store invoices, translation, translation memory, software (obviously Where the store would it be?) And all pods you can imagine about your profession. Finally, we can say that, at first, absolute panicked, I'm sure you now do over the situation and the flood of feelings that hung over my sister and, by extension, on my brother. I'll spare you the details (mostly because it's time to go to bed) I'll just say that, at some point, things got so tense and so beside himself that, to feeling useless gibberish that I was riding, I decided to go to my room and try to recover lost sleep. I felt, however, a very nervous before the tragic events that had provided the day-which, incidentally, had not come to Ecuador, "and when I lay on the bed, and I thought it would not be able to close the eye. I slept five hours. When I woke up, almost among cobwebs, it was dinner time and I heard my sister talk quietly on the floor below. Even took me to stretch about twenty minutes, but when he finally got to the room and met my family at the table, I heard about the outcome of the story: Thanks to a miracle, unused in such cases, the only thing burned was the motherboard and, fortunately, hard drives were in perfect condition. Should buy, yes, another computer, but after all, yes it was a problem of such material without further importance of the fair (well, I say that because I will not have to be me who disburse the eurazos 700 or 800) and would be resolved as soon as possible.

So, finally, as in an Asterix comic, ate happy, carefree and stress-free, perhaps the first time since our parents arrived and everyone enjoyed the night with family ... all but me, course, which again I had to get the bike and stand on the Overlook, to the deterioration of my brain cells and the boredom of your mind awake. I hope, however, you have enjoyed this chronicle galdosiana and not hear your snoring from my lair. As for me, I'll steal something at the bar.

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Patri nostri, qui estis in caelis

I just learned, thanks to last post _olika_ , that today was (and I say "was" because for most of you it is day 11, ie the commemoration of the 5 years from the 11-S, the festival in this nook of the Peninsula where I and, more importantly, Xavi's birthday) the day World Suicide Prevention . Incredibly, soon will have to make the year longer, if you want to keep making up "holiday" as is, or type "International Day of Burgers guzzling" or "Day of the short-legged." "I can believe that there is Day Pain? And the other on, literally," Overcome Extreme Poverty? What does this mean? What we take to the streets armed with bats and other malicious tools and ENTAM with the first poor we see sleeping on cartoons? What nonsense! "And when a party dedicated to Bored Receptionist or sleepless nights? Surely the latter is aimed more people than the "no snuff" or "no car."

Anyway, this was not what I wanted to talk today, so let's leave it as a curiosity or a cheerful way to start this post. Or, of course, as a plausible explanation to state that I have been engulfed most of the day. Living with my parents again, if only for 10 days, is one of those challenges would confront those who pride themselves on daring and panties in tight situations. Only 4 days are in Catalonia, one of which (yesterday) was fully occupied by the wedding of my brother-in-law, but they've gotten, both my sister and my brother and I, we're about to ask armed intervention of NATO or we go up, and not by walls but by roofs, porches, lampposts and other places impassable. As I said somewhere, not that we get on bad or that it really negative feelings between us, in fact there is no doubt in appreciation that we profess and most of the time, until we want. Seriously, you can not wish for a more attentive and concerned relatives by progeny (only tell you that today, when I left work at 7 am, my father was waiting to take me home by car ...). Now, another thing is the coexistence, which, as you can imagine, becomes the most complicated, full of folds fragile, flimsy, that the minimum crack and result in the fiercest battles. Criticisms, tensions, truths that never shut up (if anything we can assume is that we are a family hypocritical), follies of all kinds, opposing moral ... Too many things to try to offer a plausible consistency or, on appeal, finding a solution not be expedited. The distance, so far, seems the most reliable and useful method to avoid the fighting, although not yet achieved the disappearance of the differences: the proof is these days. Moreover, one can not get divorced from their parents as well, always just missing him and feeling bad about yourself, so more often it is the end returning to the fold and try to smooth things (although they continue to give us headaches and never end up disappearing altogether). Come on, that we are all made to the mold of May 68 and are able to write a "Letter to My Father."

Yesterday, at any rate, I must admit it was a memorable day for several reasons. When I arrived at work I was pretty disappointed lack of energy and empty of optimism, a state which, as already suggested, accompanied me during my sleep and much of the afternoon. Now, however, more clear, I look back at the wedding of the brother of my brother as one of those times when my parents not only knew how to rise, but far exceeded all expectations. And, after several complaints to those already we are accustomed and a louder voice than the other, we surprised us when the time of the shindig. The DJ (or a DJ ") had begun loosely, undergoing tedious presidential table dance games that made us fear a night rather dull, and delaying the onset of collective revelry. Within an hour, however, things changed considerably and so unexpected, that became an Ibiza nightclub, waltzes and paso dobles first hour were replaced by true anthems of the holiday as "Paquito el chocolate" " That stop, "" The Yellow Tractor "or" legalization "and everyone went crazy (maybe that too had something to do the open bar). Suddenly, they began to form couples and everyone seemed strangest of all friends, toasting the future of boyfriends, getting together to make the train throughout the room and promising events that surely will be postponed until eternity. Anyway, the thing is that what became, in a flash, in a chaos, and that in the midst of all this rampant pack, were my parents, carried away by the rhythm of the pachanga, screaming "Legalize, legalize, Le-ga-li-za-tion! " and responding to suggestive choreography "Paquitou." The best, perhaps, came when the click was decided to drop the inevitable "Opa" from his repertoire, that horrible song whose chorus is more catchy than that, conscious of its rusty nature but determined to tease us, my father repeated insistence when we pass by the house at that moment, however, had buried the hatchet and we all ran next to him, jumping up and shouting the orangutans and face , vehemently and good humor, "Opa, I ways a ring!". Moments like this, certainly outweigh the many disagreements that mark our day to day.

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The latest film from Darren Aronofsky

is like a dream come true. I thought that this guy had abducted by beings from another planet (or, rather, arose from his own films), but NO, is back, and it seems that with the same forcefulness than ever. At least That is the idea that gives trailer. His tenure in Venice, however, seems to have been lucky and is said that there was even booed at the end. Anyway, I wait as rain in May and until we see it (in the movies, of course) I do not believe any criticism, not one.

After

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L'interminable impasse

skim the edge of the universe and dodge at the last minute feared the coming of Armageddon, back into the fold of the Overlook to give account of what I have brought these two days. While this, in fact, could be defined in two words: almost nothing. But today I want to write and for your misfortune, I am about to take my magic hat and start extracting rabbits, anecdotes and reflections like Mary Poppins bag in question.

apathy that accompanies me these days is only comparable to my tiredness. Today my parents arrived and, with its presence in the house, I hope things take a turn more dynamic, because what was the last week ... Both on Monday and Wednesday I had to call the Complutense about 11 am, is, I was forced to interrupt my sleep period, "a result that could not get back to sleep a wink: fully awake, I decided to hold out until after lunch and so, incidentally, to explore a slot virtually unknown in Sant Feliu. Such recklessness led later to pass to take a nap two hours of my afternoon to grab a frightening total of four. Thus, one can say that none of those two days I saw the sunlight, if we discount the time I was calling, solving existential doubts about my future and preparing food. With this background, coupled with the fact that does not have friends in these latitudes, that the foreigner will decrease and move things as wedding about David and Naomi, getting more tense go, do not miss it I walk quite reluctance and eager to enter a new cycle.

Anyway, some things I have to tell. About my future, for example, about which I have managed to reach a precarious, but not less likely, conclusion after giving thousands of rounds, talking to different people and even animals, shuffle the pros and cons and play heads or tails, I've decided I'm going to embark on a doctorate. Yes, friends: I will remain a student until I was kicked out of college or, conversely, are obliged to grant a scholarship for life to stop giving the grill. But do not think that my resolution is not as parasitic as at first sight. If on the one hand, it is true that I can not let more time to do PhD and happy and able to finally focus on the preparation of the thesis (which is, of course, a continuation of last year HORROR !), on the other hand, the fact remains that I can not get to ask at the corners and being forced to change the luxurious four walls of my cubicle hypothetical Matritense the austere shelter of a bridge over the Manzanares (although Who knows, maybe it is better to pay the exorbitant rent of capital). Thus, pursuant to that truism, first of all be seek a livelihood, an activity that, if possible, not pass through the theft or the brothel, and that is as close as possible to what I enjoy doing, which, as you have already guessed, is working on hotel lobby late in the morning, but to write. The Journal of books, apart from publishing a new critical and have two others in the room, I have secured new partnerships, though, given the botched relationship that binds them I do not know me if I can trust too: more than two weeks, the assistant asked me my address in Catalunya (which, presumably, already had) to send a new book, but so far, mailbox I have not seen more than dust and bank cards (not directed at me, fortunately) ... Ah! and a record that I came from overseas and which have not yet thanked nor have I expressed the profound nostalgia that I awoke to hear ... "But that's another story and should be told another time."

these days to come, therefore, predict hustle and head quite a few meals. I ask you to pray for me, that you put candles in your favorite idols and everything goes as you have to leave, but only because I have not made every effort to fact or everything that was in my hand ... and in all other parts of my body. As I said, I'm quite stunned, and the prospect of myself to write letters, polish my resume and call different places to make use of my seductive voice of taciturn (with great honor), I am not attracted too, truth. But hey, let's get parked and get complaints once and get to work.

Moreover, there has been, in recent days, too many stories noteworthy or worthy of mention. The other day a mouse after the cafe bar and the bartender, a stout Extremadura 28 years whose real vocation was to be the bullfighting, he started jumping up and yelling that we were going to throw. Lucky that we had no customers wandering about, otherwise, I do not want to imagine breaks loose that would have mounted. In the end, between the seasoned bartender and I dragged one of the refrigerators after which the rodent was hiding, and we were surprised that infamous corner, apart from the unspeakable scab that, over the decades, had gone accumulating in the darkness-the body of another mouse, espanzurrado and legs stiff, my partner refused to watch as it swept into the bag, but before which made the gesture of crossing oneself is time for the funeral. The other stories are more or less of this sort or not to contribute too much to the horrors of the Overlook, with what I end my entry today. You to sleep well.

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End has arrived! (Not mefiero El Canto del Loco)

Yes, folks: the dreaded moment has finally arrived and, if I write this journal, it is only by an oversight of fario or, as would the other, because I have a filly of fifteen. Yesterday morning (ie today, but hey, it is difficult to establish the phases of the day with this crazy schedule) I ride my bike upset, regretful and looking forward to September 30, as all evidence indicated that , a After all, had come to connect the computer to charge me labor. I spent the whole day (about 4 or 5 hours, my contact with the world is not beyond) ruminating explanations, apologies, fabrications ... until my mind, exhausted, decided to dismiss as fruitless flirtation and proceeded to address other important issues (the dinner menu, for example). Anyway, I got to work fearful, suspicious and now with the idea that not only had finished my hours of lethargy on the internet, but I could be waiting for show, again, the door. Things, however, took a wholly different: upon entering, Silvia, one of my companions told me I had bad news to me, with these words, my neurons were put on guard and were planning a point hasty flight. Before that happened, however, said the director, Helena had just loaded the team. My face showed puzzlement and bewilderment (well, the latter is included in the package) to listen to this categorical statement, but Silvia, not given to looking at the face when addressing people, did not notice it, because anything which most likely was saved from any complaint. Meanwhile, she told me that morning and were unable to connect (which, as imaginaréis was not new to me) and that, beset by customers, had decided to turn off the computer. But when he was fired again, asked the startup disk and did not allow access to Windows, I tried again and again, but always returned to the same place and same situation. For a few minutes, panic swept the reception, after which, demonstrating a total lack of errors and computer failures, struck off button and decided to forget it, at least for now. So when I arrived Silvia was working on the computer of the leader and only approached the counter when customers were dropping by. Of course, you will have also thought, "I had already encountered problems of this sort in the same computer, some of which also made me fear dismissal or reprimand, so you can say I'm pretty hardened setbacks computer. In fact, less than the blink of an eye had resolved and when he returned my partner there, and was located again at the counter, "is that I too have had problems like this with my laptop" was the feeble explanation that I knew him, instead of telling the many shocks he had suffered in the middle of the night. To this, however, Silvia replied with a statement that caused me a great surprise (not just the coldness of his words, but the part I played): "Well let him a shout Elena not to touch it again ". How hilarious! In the end the blame fell on the director, not me! You have to see how these things so arbitrary how they get rid of the penalties the farmhands like me, and how, ultimately, always pay for the sins, while my head is not having completely clean conscience nor can cast the first stone, why-apart from my own continuity of this paper, I decided to keep hidden the real version, as sometimes happens in politics, leaving the official version as it is. One option reprehensible, no doubt, but preferable to the consequences of something that, on the other hand, is already solved.

Although, to be honest, this issue is not completely solved, at least as far as I'm concerned. And, while the computer is working again perfectly normal, which would not, alas - my pain to discover that, finally, the labor justice mechanisms had been put up and, as a first step vetarme had proceeded to the entrance to the email accounts! Much cruelty loosed upon the world! Snif! Fortunately, as I say, I can still continue using the blog and, if I write a mail, I can not take on the MP3 and send it from my cabin. Otherwise, the final cataclysm (and not of the dinosaurs) would have hung over this peaceful hotel on the Costa Brava where I spend my nights novice hacker.

Finding Blueprints Online

How great is

Following the film, I was amused yesterday by listing my 26 favorite movies (not to be cliché). Not intended to be exhaustive or purist: Some titles may not stick or glue with others. In addition, surely be some out. But at least gives a rough idea of my tastes and therefore myself. I will be interested to know your opinions on the subject (it goes without saying that accepting insults of all kinds).

East of Eden, Elia Kazan

Dreamers, Bernardo Bertolucci

The Graduate, Mike Nichols

The thin Red Line, Terrence Mallik

Dogville, Lars Von Trier

Person of Ingmar Bergman

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind , Michael Gondry

Annie Hall, Woody Allen

The Exterminating Angel, Luis Buñuel

Apocalyse Now, Francis Ford Coppolla

8 ½, Federico Fellini

Rebel Without a Cause, Nicholas Ray

Touch of Evil, Orson Welles

American Beauty, Sam Mendes

The Elephant Man, David Lynch

Requiem for a Dream, Darren Aronofsky

Casablanca, Michael Curtiz

Glare , Stanley Kubrick

12 Monkeys, Terry Gilliam

The Truman Show, Peter Weir

The Ice Storm, Ang Lee

footprint, Joseph L. Mankievicz

The Great Dictator by Charles Chaplin

Edward Scissorhands, Tim Burton

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly , Sergio Leone

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest , Milos Forman

not stop me in many, because I find it impossible to say which ones I like best about all these. They are all the same height and no deserves to appear in the last post. However, if I had to choose one for the mark left on my mind when I saw it, that would certainly Person.