Enter the gringo

I have a friend called Van. He’s a fully certified gringo. Got papers and everything to prove it.  

I met him two years ago, while he was visiting my country as a tourist, and we’ve kept in contact ever since.

Two weeks ago, he dropped by on a business trip, so I went to see him at his hotel. I go up to his room and out he comes, gives me a big hug on the doorway and then SLAM! the door closed behind him. Two minutes with the guy and I already got him locked out of his room!!!

The day before he was due back, we met in Antique City, a very beautiful Kzanderallian city just 20 miles from the capital. We talked and had dinner with an Aussie girl he had just met. It was a very delightful time, specially since Van picked up the bill at the end.

Then we proceeded to stroll up and down Antique’s streets, while chatting all the time. I love talking to Van for two reasons:

• I get to practice my crummy English.
• He’s one of the most intelligent people I know, so I can bring up any subject and he can discuss it fluently.
• He’s funny as heck. (Ok, that was three reasons. I can’t count)
  

We got tired of walking, so we ended up in an Arabian-themed bar. Aussie Girl wanted to check out the place. We sat down and ordered an arguileh, which is a funky Arabic water pipe they have, filled with fruit-flavored tobacco. Four people on a nearby table were making a helluva noise, so I turned around and recognized one guy: Diego. I explained to Van and Aussie that Diego is a big male model here in Kzanderallia. Van turned to me and whispered, “Geez, look at their socks!!”. One of the guys and one of the girls of Diego’s group had exchanged footware, so each had a white sock and a cyan sock. It was hilarious. Oh, the glamour of the fashion crowd.

After a while of sipping the arguileh, we got tipsy and started talking out loud and acting like big clowns. Diego and his comrades found us unsettling, so they left to find a more refined establishment. The waiter was also displeased at us, and was extremely rude. So we got out as well.

All the way back to his hotel, Van kept glancing at the ads on the street. Whenever he saw one with male models on it, he stopped cold and asked out loud, “Wait. IS THAT DIEGO??”

How can you not love a guy like that?

The cops suck (Surprise, surprise)

My cousin was driving with his girlfriend last month when he got stopped by some cops.

But, they were crooked cops and proceeded to rob him. They threatened to do bad things to the girl if they refused. So my cuz handed out all of his cash, his cell phone, his watch and assorted items that were on the car. My cuz’s girl was freaked, but he kept his cool and was even able to talk them into letting him keep his car radio and, most importantly, his car.

Thankfully, they came out of the ordeal with nothing but big scare. The poor kids.

Goes to show you the practicality of life in Kzanderallia. Crime and law enforcement, bundled up in just one place. How convenient!!

Next time some cops try to stop me, I think I’ll run like heck.

Son of the beach

My girlfriend Ivy turned 27 last Saturday. So her folks decided to take her, my sister-in-law and me to the beach.
The trip was uneventful. We got to a resort and headed to the pool area.

We swam a bit, then Ivy and me went to the beach. The sea was quite wild, so we didn’t go far into the water, just waist level. We got wet and headed back.

The pricey admission ticket entitled us to have food all day long, and we did. I ate so much that I got a bit sleepy, and so did everyone except Ivy. She got mad ‘cause all of us wanted to lie down while she wanted to play in the pool. “Swimming is no fun if I have to do it by myself”, she complained. I concluded that nobody should have to play by themselves on their birthday. So I made an effort and got myself into the water. Once there, I felt less heavy and sleepy, so we were able to have some fun times there. Guess the “you should not swim two hours after eating” rule doesn’t always apply.

So the day was over, and we had to get into some dry clothes.

At this point I should say that I don’t like locker rooms. I’m not too comfortable being naked with other people. Yes, I’m a nudiephobe. So there, I’ve said it. But I’ve found ways around that. I concienciously try to block out the nakedness and just proceed with maximum efficiency to shower, change or do whatever I’m supposed to do in a locker room.

My father-in-law isn’t as squeamish as me. So when he was having some trouble unfastening some strap on his wrist, he found it totally logic to come up to me and ask for my help. The fact that he was only wearing slippers at the time didn’t bother him at all. So I got to see my girlfriend’s dad in the nude, up close. I focused on the strap and nothing else. I was able to undo the knot in record time and each of us got back to our own dressing affairs.

I can say with full confidence that I will never forget this trip for as long as I live.

Cross your fingers!!

I think we may have finally finished the (insert pejorative word here) Gazzete.
One book of it, anyway. (There’s still four more to go.)

We are giving it a last check today. Hopefully, no more mistakes will be found.

We have to hand it this very day so it gets printed, and we hope to have it ready by mid morning.

If we get to pull this off, the town will definitely get painted red tonight.

Don't think so!

I don't know if I've said this before, but I've been thinking about telling friends and family about my blong... I mean, blog.

The logic behind this idea is that by showing everybody my writings, they'll understand me better, and love me more. On the other hand, they may not like what I’ve written about them so far, or they may not like being written about whatsoever. They may also start wondering, “Will this creep be writing about THIS on his blog?? And what about THAT? Will he write about it too??

Again, maybe noting will happen at all.  

But have I the guts to chance it??

It's official: it sucks even more!

One of the few perks available at Lexcorp was the email:

• No inbox limit
• Mails could be up to 8 megs in size
• You could attach any kind of file (except *.EXE)
  

It was pretty damn cool. I could send drawings, and pictures, and lots of stuff. I used it to keep in touch with friends and family.  

No more.

Effective this past Monday, you can only send Word, Excel or PDF files. And all mail gets screened so every word is work-related. Any infractions may result in sanctions or outright dismissal.

This means there’ll be no more updating this blog from work.

Not that Lexcorp was Paradise to begin with, but dammit, now it REALLY blows.

An evening with Fido

As part of the massive global re-launching of Fido Dido as 7UP’s spokeperson, there was this contest called Draw Your Inner Fido. Contestants were supposed to come up with some ‘Fido-sophy’ of their own and draw Fido acting it out.

In case you didn’t know, Fido-sophy is a term coined by the 7UP Company, and it basically refers to some superficial, non-compromising, quick-fix, clichéd way of living life, like:

• It’s cool to be yourself
• Normal is boring
• You are who you are and who you are is OK.
• Dare to be different
• Life is short, live it.
  

The contest seemed easy enough, so I decided to give it a try.

I must say, the drawing was the easy part. Coming up with some sufficiently simplistic, thoroughly bland bit of doctrine was tougher. Took me hours. I ended up with ‘Live life at your own beat’. Not so bad, huh?

So I handed out my work and the wait started. Then, on the day of the awards, I get this call at work. It’s the Fido Contest people and they tell me I am amongst the 10 finalists. SWEET!!
 
I arrived at the place with my parents and my girlfriend on tow. The award ceremony was held at a place called ‘Fido’s Place’, and it’s a third-floor loft splattered with Fido stuff all over. There’s Fido murals, Fido floor motifs, there’s even a Fido statue, life-size. And of course, all the contestants’ work was displayed in big panels.

I wanted to take pictures of everything, but my camera was at the shop. Unfortunately, it remains true that if I ever neglect to bring a camera, nobody else brings one. And so, no photos were taken on my behalf, which made the photomaniac in me very upset. My only hope are the news photographers that were fluttering all over.

I check out the rest of the contest entries. Some are really bad, but some are REALLY good. I’m a nervous wreck.

The event starts about fifty minutes late. We have been some free 7UP, but no amount of soda can make you forget the fact that you’ve been waiting in line for about an hour.

As expected, the whole ceremony is a big 7UP commercial: people from the advertising company step up, and show us some TV ads. The they proceed to talk about Fido, about how he started, what his personality is like, etc, etc. At one moment, they bring out Fido’s creator, Johanna Ferrone. She tells us how thrilled she is that Fido got picked up again as the 7UP spokesperson. “Fido and I have been together for 20 years”, she said. “That’s the longest relationship I’ve ever had.” She’s funny and sweet, but she is grossly mistranslated. Those of us who speak English can only quiver at the things Ferrone’s interpreter is saying.

Finally, the awards are given out. They begin with the Honorable Mentions. They call out a couple of guys, then me. Although deeply disappointed, I put up a brave face and step up. They give a fantabulous piece of cardboard with my name scribbled on it. And Johanna Ferrone says some vague kind words about my drawing. She’s so nice, she can’t be a real New Yorker. No way.

I was feeling kinda OK at this point. I hadn’t won, but at least I had beat about 50 competitors. My folks and my girl are proud of me. Then... they call the next Honorable Mention winner. It’s an 8-year-old kid!!! Apparently, the jurors were impressed by the fact that someone so young would want to participate. Plus, he wrote a very moving letter declaring his love of Fido. That’s all fine and good, but what this means is that I’m drawing at third grade level!! At least I don’t eat my crayons anymore. Not so much, anyway.

A while later, the other awards are called out. These are the big guns: they get cash prizes and their designs get slapped on billboards and bus-stop signs. And the ceremony is over. We are cordially invited to vacate the premises.

It’s a big pill to swallow, pride. You see, I was so sure I had a chance at third place... I had even spent all the award money in my head!  Thankfully, my girlfriend was there to hug me tight, give me a big kiss and nurse my wounded ego back to health.

I'm beat

Last night, I had to stay up till 2 AM.

Stupid college.  

 

You see, my university went fully online about four years ago. This was a nice improvement to the previous method. Before, you had to drive down there, fill up a form and wait in line till you got to the inscription booth. This could take hours and it was annoying as heck.

 

Nowdays, you can register right from the commodity of your own home, using the university's website. Nice, right?

 

It's very convenient if there is just one section, or if you don't care who is giving the class. But sometimes you may want to get yourself into a specific class with a certain teacher. And that's when things get complicated.

 

If you're in a picky mood, you must get in early 'cause classes fill up fast. Unfortunately, the inscription periods open at midnight. So you must really be interested in the choice of teachers available.

 

Generally, I wouldn't care too much about who was teaching, but not this time. You see, it's not that I wanted certain teacher to give the class: rather, I wanted a certain teacher NOT to give me the class.

 

So there I was, sitting in front of my computer, waiting for the clock to strike 12. I logged in, got into my user section and attempted to get into the class. It didn't work. A cold sweat came all over me.  Had I done something wrong? What if I had neglected some procedure at some point??

 

In short, it took me about forty minutes to get everything worked out. By the time I logged out and headed to bed, it was about 2 AM. As you can imagine, four hours' sleep is hardly refreshing. Almost as bad as no sleep at all. Almost.

 

Need I say how hard it was getting out of bed this morning?

 

Man, I am sooo tired. My eyes are all sore and my whole body feels like I got hit with a ton of bricks. And my mood is... well, suffice it to say that a female coworker told me I was the first case of male PMS she had ever seen.

 

It's getting hot in herre!!

Just when I thought I was out of the furnace, back in I go again.

 

It's official: the weather in Kzanderallia has gone back to torrid.

 

Actually, it never stopped being that way. I had high hopes that the rains would cool down this boiling pot of a country. But the precipitation rates so far have been minimal, and so, the overall effect has been nonexistent.

 

So now, on top of the unbearable heat, you have to lug an umbrella around, because you never know when the rain is gonna hit.

 

Such is life in the tropics.

LIVE from Lexcorp!!

Yes, I know I said I wouldn't write from here anymore.

 

Blog entries done in Lexcorp are incredibly code-ridden and you never really know how they'll come out until they're published. Also, editing them can be quite the chore.

 

But, I must. I've been neglecting my blog too long, and I know that if keep putting it off, then I'll probably stop bloggin' altogether. And I don't want that to happen.

 

Having a blog is cool for several reasons. To me, it's like freeze-framing life. You get to archive and share all your thoughts and anecdotes before they're lost to oblivion.   

 

I can almost see it: future generations will be able to browse thru my blog, get a glimpse of my life in Kzanderallia in 2004, read all my deepest meditations... and wonder why I wasn't ever institutionalized.

Ok, now THAT was a bad idea

So content have I been to with the “blog-by-mail” feature, that I tried the unthinkable:
I posted from Lexcorp.

Did it work? You be the judge. Look at most of the posts made on the 15th. See anything different??

The type is smaller. But it’s not just that. There was an array of errors in each post which took an enormous time to fix. Extra characters and stuff like that. And you can’t see it, but each post has about half a page of this:  

!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:DoNotRelyOnCSS/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:SpellingState>Clean</w:SpellingState> <w:GrammarState>Clean</w:GrammarState> <w:DocumentKind>DocumentEmail</w:DocumentKind> <w:HyphenationZone>21</w:HyphenationZone> <w:EnvelopeVis/> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Wingdings; panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:2; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Trebuchet MS"; panose-1:2 11 6 3 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:7 0 0 0 19 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;}

Although invisible, all this useless coding could build up and slow down a browser to a crawl.

No wonder nobody does pages in MS Office.

I CAN READ!!

Recently, I've rediscovered reading... REAL reading.
The kind you do with books.

I'm thrilled. This is so much better than reading magazines, which is pretty much what I'd been reading for the past 10 months.
Magazines are OK for a while, but the brain eventually needs something solid, something like... literature.

Why hadn't I been reading before? Good question.

You see, I thought I didn't have time, that books were just too long, but I was wrong. The secret is to read a bit here, a bit there...just what you can handle at a time. Before you realize it, the book is finished and you're looking for another. Personally, I try to read at least half an hour each day.

Right now, I'm finishing off a collection of short tales by Isaac Asimov.

This is what I've read so far:

• The Tunnel, by Ernesto Sábato
• The Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka
  

Ok, so it's not such a long list, but... what did ya expect??
I've been on the reading wagon for only a couple of months.

UP NEXT: 1984, by George Orwell. I've seen the Apple ad, now I'll try the book!

I'm still a designer, right?

Lexcorp is wasting my valuable talents with unproductive chores.

 

I'm a D-E-S-I-G-N-E-R, for cripes's sake. Says so in my job description. Therefore, I should be designing stuff.

 

Instead, all I do is type in MS Word the whole day. Yes, I'm still doing the Lexcorp Gazette. In case you skipped previous entries, the Gazette is 1000 pages long and it spreads over four volumes. It's 100% solid text. The content is totally lame corporate stuff.  

 

All the designing I get to do right now is using the space between characters and the leading in creative ways just so that the material fits into a page nicely. It's so tiresome, so repetitive, so... boring.

 

And the work is far from over. After I finish this book, I'll still have five more to go.  Hooray.

 

 

All work and no play makes KZ a dull boy...

Should I or shouldn't I??

Lately, I've been asking myself if I should be trying to promote my blog somehow.
 
Should I dig it out of the cool, underground status it currently has going and bring it into the spotlight??
I wonder how will the pressure of augmented readership affect me and my blog.
Should I sell out??
 
But if I do, what would be a nice retail price?

Pass the 'dunce' hat

I'll admit, I'm not the most alert person around.

But yesterday I outdid myself.

 

There was this very interesting Science Fiction Festival going on this month. Since it's gonna be impossible for me to attend it fully, I chose the day with the most interesting activities: I decided Wednesday would be the best choice.

 

So, yesterday off I went, got to the place without a hitch, parked the car and everything. The price at the parking lot was kinda steep, but I thought, "What the hey, I'm gonna be here quite a while, so it's best if the car is well-guarded."

 

I got to the building where the Festival was being held. It was closed. No wonder, since I was an hour early. With so much time in my hands,  I decided to kill some of it by strolling around the nearby blocks. After fifteen minutes of walking, I got tired and bored, so I went to a nearby library and spent the rest of the overtime reading some mags. They even had A.I. playing on DVD. How appropriate.

 

Well, as you can imagine, I lost track of time. When I realized it, I was five minutes late!! Cursing my dumb luck, I dashed back two blocks to the building where the Festival being held. I was quite frustrated, because getting a good seat was out of the question. Now I even had to worry about getting any seat.  When I arrived, gasping for air, the bulding was... closed.

 

Had the Festival been postponed?? Hadn't seen anything like that on the news...

 

Then, a young fellow, who works there walked right by me. I stopped him and asked, "Hey, what about the Sci-Fi Festival??"

 

He looked at me, perplexed, and answered, "Nothing, it's being held next week, just as planned."

And he pointed at a poster on the wall.

 

There it was, as clear as day:

SCI-FI FESTIVAL, FROM JULY 20^TH TO THE 23^RD, 2004.

 

It was a Wednesday, alright: next Wednesday!!

The worst part of it is that I must've seen that poster about three times when I first arrived. I only checked the day, not the date.

I'm such a dufus.

 

But, it's funny. People are always giving me heat 'cause I'm always late for stuff. Now I showed up a whole week in advance!

 

 

A humbling experience

I like to draw. People have always told me I am good at it. That’s the main reason I chose graphic design as my profession.

Yesterday, I drew a little cow a friend of mine had asked me for. It was a dancing cow, which was standing on its back legs, and grabbing fistfuls of cash. I thought I had done a really good job, until I asked my granny to take a look. After five minutes, she decided she couldn’t tell what the heck I had drawn. She thought it was a cat, then a hippo. My ego dropped like an anvil in water. I decided to end the charade before she crushed me any further. I told her what the drawing was supposed to be. She just shrugged and walked away.

I think I’ll become an accountant.

Me and cell phones

After almost two years of wear and tear, my cell phone died this year. I considered my options:

1. I could repair it, but it would cost roughly the same as a new model.
2. I could buy a new model, but I’d lose my cell number (which I’ve been using for the last 4 years)
3. I could switch companies and activate one of my dad’s phones.
   

You see, my dad has a contract. He pays a monthly fee and he gets a new phone every 18 months. The old phones are usable, if you turn them into prepaid phones. And that is what I did.

I thought it was a sweet deal, since the activation fee was about 20 times less than buying the cheapest phone available. And the reactivated phone wasn’t all that bad-looking. For a while, it was good. Being in the same phone company for the first time, my girlfriend and I could even send each other text messages right from our phones and everything. Life was good.

But then, I must have done something to offend the cell phone gods, for their wrath started showing its ugly face in the worst way possible: my reactivated phone started to malfunction. It started to lose the signal. And anyone who’s ever used a cell phone knows that a cell phone  that loses the signal is almost as bad as having no phone at all. Maybe worse.

So I took it up to repairs. They ‘changed the software’, whatever that means. It was a big wad of cash, but still less what it would cost me to get a new phone. For a while, things got back to normal.

Then it went kaput. Lost the signal for good. I called the company, and they insist I take the cell back to their repair shop. Apparently, it needs to ‘have its software changed again’.

So I did the only logical thing: I cursed like hell. Then, I did the next logical thing, which was going back to my original cell phone company and buy a new phone.

With so many phone changes, people will start thinking I’m hiding from somebody.

No, not from you.

Really.


Make way for the Micro Phone!*

On Sunday, my girlfriend got fed up with me not having a decent phone, so she and I went phone-shoppin. She even put up half so I could get a cool new one (Otherwise I would’ve gotten the cheapest one possible) Instead, I got the Panasonic GD55. This phone is the smallest thing ever. Even smaller than Zoolander’s phone. It’s so small that it could fall right into my ear if I’m not careful.

I still have to put in my phonebook. I think I’ll have to use tweezers or something, cause these buttons are tiny!! Also, I still have to work the hand position. I still get cramps from holding it wrong.

People worry I’ll misplace Tiny Phone. And considering my history with small, expensive objects, their worries are dignified. That’s why I got Tiny a very nice leather beltcase. He looks sexy.
 
You know, it’s weird. I look at Tiny and it’s like looking at a baby phone. He’s so cuuuute!!
Is this what having kids is like?


*A tiny header for a tiny phone.

Yeah, I know

Once again, my blog has been left unattended.
Sorry. It’s just that nothing interesting happened for the last 9 days...
...NOT!!

You know, it’s the usual: too little time, a bit too tired, etc.

But here I am, ready to amuse your life with my mental wanderings and narrations.

So if you got a minute (or two)...

First off

You know, having a blog is weird.
Sometimes, if feels like I’m just talking to myself here.

-Well, of course you do, KZ, it’s a blog.

Wait, who said that??

-Relax, man. It’s just me, your brain.

NO WAY!!! Wait, does this mean I just went insane?

-Yep.

Oh, OK. Just checking. So, you were saying about my blog??

-Oh yeah... A blog is not a conversation. It’s a monologue: an endless rant about yourself, your life and how you view your world. Some blogs actually get to be quite good. I’m sorry I can’t say the same about your blog, my friend.

Whaddaya mean my blog is not good??? Have your read it?? Oh, right... you’re my brain. You were there all the time.

-Right. And with stuff like you’ve been putting in, it’s no wonder nobody’s reading it.

Hey! Last time I checked I had at least two readers!

-You and I don’t count.

Oh.

The kid in me is doing well, thank you for asking.

A few weeks ago, I went into a store with the firm intention of buying myself a fan. No, they don’t sell admirers in stores now (it’d be nice, though). I mean the appliance. The one I got in my room is ever closer to death by explosion. And I’d like to get rid of it a little before that, thank you.

But then, I came across a box in the DVD isle. It was the complete Pixar Collection: Toy Story 1 & 2, Monsters, Inc., Bug’s Life, Finding Nemo.
I could hear it beckoning from afar: BUY ME... BUY MEEEE....

It took me a whole 5 seconds to cave in.

Impulse buying is a weakness of mine. But I couldn’t be happier with my purchase. At last, I got to see Toy Story 1 (for the first time ever), and I also got to see the English versions of the rest (children’s movies are dubbed to Spanish in Kzanderallia). I loved hearing the voices of Kelsey Grammer, John Ratzenberger, Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Eric Bana and so many others. Oh, and the picture quality is the best.

I love my DVDs.

And while we are on the subject of DVDs...

I got my DVD player a couple of years back, as part of a promotion by a local videoclub. If you bought the DVD, you could rent one movie per week for a whole year, for free. It was quite a good deal, even though you had to rent on the same day every week, and if you happened to miss a rent date, you couldn’t get it back. That year, I got to see about 48 movies. It was a blast.

The DVD player, however, was a bust. The remote doesn’t work properly. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Apparently, the TV creates some crazy interference. At first (true to my schooling in home appliance repair), I tried jiggling it like crazy. For a time, it was good. But eventually, I got tired and got the dang player to the repair shop.

But, once I got it to the shop, the apparatus worked perfectly, without so much as a glitch. You could play, you could rewind, you could pause. It was beautiful. The repairmen said nothing but looked at me with the glance you save for the fool that says that his computer is not working... and hasn’t even tried turning it on. Full of embarrassment, I packed the player up and headed home.

Of course, once I got it back, it started malfunctioning. So I went back to the shaking and jiggling to set it straight. More than one time I wanted to throw it in the middle of the street, but refrained myself.

In the end, I settled for giving it a new location, far away from the TV. It isn’t a perfect solution, but at least the violent instincts towards it have stopped. And that is always good.

The decay of friendship

Last Thursday, I realized that I hadn’t seen a certain friend of mine since he got hitched, a couple of months ago. And he wasn’t alone. There were a few others that hadn’t been seen in about a month. So I emailed each and set up an urgent meeting at the nearest taco place. Friday, at 20:00.

Only three out of seven attended. Kinda bummed us out. Specially since my married friend was among the not present. Made us think about how those four valued our comradeship. It doesn’t look good, lemme tell ya.

Some people just don’t realise how much work goes into a friendship. You have to set time aside for friends every now and then. You have to talk over the phone at least once every two weeks and meet at least once every month. It can be quite difficult when you already have your plate full with other affairs. This can be done if both people value the relationship. But if that isn’t case, forget about it. This can be hard to swallow, the fact that you just aren’t relevant anymore. But it happens. The main thing is not to get angry over it. Rather, move on. It’s not easy, lemme tell you. I hate losing age-old friends. But if they don’t want you in their life, there is not much you can do about it.

Right now, I am left with the resolve to focus on the friends I do have, and hold on to them.
They won’t get away. EVER.

Ok, that sounded a little bit creepy.  

Ready... Set... BLOG!

Got lots to talk about.
Got the time.
Got the will.
Got the energy.

LET’S BLOG!

A jumble of sorts

Let’s try something new.
Instead of a mess of little blog entries, I’ll make ONE BIG ONE, with chapters.

CHAPTER ONE:

Army Day

Today is the day when the glorious Kzanderallian Army celebrates it’s own day.

Critics say that such a small nation as Kzanderallia doesn’t really need an army, and that it sucks too much of the national budget without tangible benefits.

Nonetheless, I love Army Day.
Because of it, I get the day off!!

CHAPTER TWO:

The Breakfast Club

My two best friends at Lexcorp had their birthdays this month. Instead of buying them presents, I took them both to breakfast today. We were set to have the breakfast at 7:00, so we’d be done at 9:00 and each could spend the rest of the Army Day as best possible.
But things rarely come off as planned.

Here’s the breakdown:
7:15 I get up, a fashionably half hour late.
7:25 I finish getting dressed. I think both shoes are the same color. No time to check!
7:35 After realizing that I barely have K$ 20 (Kzanderallian pesos) to pay for three breakfasts, I decide to drop by the ATM.
7:37 I find out have only K$ 107 on my account. I need about K$300, fast.
7:45 Hit up my girlfriend for money. She hands over K$200. Isn’t that what a loved one is for?
8:12 I am finally on my way to pick up the first passenger, who happens to live on the other side of town. I decide I really need to make friends around my block.
8:16 Impatient people are starting to call, making sure the breakfast thing is still on. I am grateful, for I really needed the extra pressure.
8:25 I miss my exit. Highways are fun!
8:32 back on track.
8:36 Human cargo secure. On to the next pick-up point.
8:45 Everybody is in the car, we head out to the restaurant.
9:15 After unsuccesfully peddling the benefits of McDonald’s EconoDeals, we head out to an Italian restaurant. My friends are such snobs.

After that, everything went smoothly, despite the delay. We settled in, we ate and talked and talked for two straight hours. I love these guys. The breakfast was worth every penny.

CHAPTER THREE:

The Diploma Factory

My girlfriend’s sister, Val, needed to give a diploma for a teacher of hers. Knowing that I am a famous designer, she asked my girlfriend to enlist my help in making one. Graciously I agreed. So I fired up the design app and used my amazing skills to produce a such a diploma as few mortals have ever seen. Val was delighted and thanked me immensely.
I wonder if she’ll be so grateful after I bill her.

CHAPTER FOUR:

Getting some food in

Designing diplomas can make one very hungry, so I threw my girlfriend in the trunk and drove to the nearest food court. It is in times like these that I despise being on a no-cheese diet. But hey, it could be worse: my girl has a no-salt diet (don’t ask). So I settled for a Phily Steak Sandwich (no cheese) and Ivy had a chicken bagel (just lettuce, herbs and the chicken). Iv actually had to take it back, ‘cause the bagel people added cheese to it. They kinda scraped it off the bun, but there still was cheese everywhere. It was partially her fault, since she didn’t specifically asked for the cheese to be left out. But the Bagel Makers booth was so lame that it didn’t have a complete menu, so Iv couldn’t really know there was cheese in the mix till it was too late.

To make up for such culinary frustrations, later we had a big chunk of chocolate cake. Luckily, none of us is in a no-sugar diet, like my dad. Poor guy.

CHAPTER FIVE:

A bout of materialism

Then we strolled around the mall looking at things too ridiculous or too expensive to buy. I got me a fake Zippo for about a fifth of the price of a real one. That’s OK since I don’t really use lighters so often, being a non-smoker and everything. But I believe that every man should have a lighter at hand, for emergencies like lighting up firecrackers and whatnot. And a knockoff is more than able for the job. Hope it doesn’t blow up on me, though.

CHAPTER SIX:

Chillin’

All that walking around stores can get tiresome. So we headed to my girlfriend’s. We talked, read together, we even cuddled a bit.
Unfortunately, most of the times I end up being snuggled by Iv’s crazy dog. Dog drool all over, not a pretty sight.
Regardless, it’s my favorite time of the week.

CHAPTER SEVEN:

The crazy things I do for movies

So at 20:30, I got to my parents’ to make a short visit before bedtime. Or so I thought.

You see, since most people were having a day off (being Army Day and everything), movie theater entrepreneurs decided to milk the Spiderman 2 premiere for all its worth.  So they had dozens of showings all over the city. People came by the hundreds. Everybody wanted to see the movie.

So did I, but had decided against it because I loathe crowds. But the movie freak in me triumphed and at 21:05 I grabbed my sis and headed to the closest cinema, hoping to catch the last showing, which was at 21:15. We got there at 21:11, and dashed to the ticket booth. And then, we encountered... The Line.

It was humongous beyond measure. It was about a block long and twisted everyplace trying to fit all the people in the miniscule space available. Any resistance would be futile, so Sis and I took our places at the end of the line and waited for about 15 minutes more for the line to move, finally.

Unbelievably, we managed to get ourselves really good seats in the back, to the left. Apparently, most folks wanted to take up a place in the central seating area, and forgot about the rear.  That’s how my sis and I were able to make our famously astute comments about the movie, without interruptions from annoyed moviegoers. They were truly great seats, so no innocent blood was spilled.

CHAPTER EIGHT:

Making amends

My girlfriend is kinda pissed. She wanted to go with me to see Spiderman 2, but since it was a last-minute kind of thing, she couldn’t come with us. No biggie: the movie was great, so I wouldn’t mind seeing it for a second time.

Which is not the case with Matrix Revolutions. Iv wasn’t with me when I saw it first, but I despised it so much I can’t bear to see it again... Not even for her.

I guess that one she’ll have to rent.

Grrr...!!!

Hate when this happens.

Had this hilarious blog entry all written up, and the browser quit on me.
I had already clicked the ‘Publish’ button, but apparently, it was too late. The blog entry was lost.

This kinda bums me out, for it’s always quite a challenge to get my neurons to actually work on something, and when they finally do, this happens. No fair. So much effort, wasted!

Serves me right, for trying to write blog entries online, directly from the Blogger site. When you do it that way, there’s no such thing as a backup. When glitches occur (and they always do), your work is lost forever.

From now on, it’s only blog-by-mail for me!!

Unless I forget. (Hey, it’s me we’re talking about!)

I spy with my little pink eye...

Today, as I woke up, I felt overcome by a light itch in my right eye. I rubbed my finger carelessly against the eyelid, and this simple action triggered a nuclear-size itch which made me rub my eye harder and harder until it started to cry. As my eye was filling up with water, I knew this was no normal itch.

Something was definitely wrong with my eye.

I ran to the bathroom in a frenzy. But there, a furiously bloody sphere was looking at me. Took me a couple of seconds to realise that I was, in fact, staring at my own eye. Yep, it was no pretty sight. The whole white portion was now a beautiful crimson. It was all evil-like, very cool. Too bad the burning and itching made it unbearable.

The way I figure it, this morning I had some dust particle in my eye which was causing the initial itch. When I scratched, I just made everything worse.

In the end, my mom got me some drops, but they made my vision get all blurry.

Since I couldn’t read, drive or use a computer, I was spared from my Lexcorp labours for the whole day.

Who says having pinkeye was a bad thing?

Happy Teacher's Day!

June 25th is Teacher's Day in Kzanderallia.

To all of you teachers out there, CONGRATS!!

This time, I decided to let my creative side loose and made little cards for every teacher I know.

Ten of my cowokers are teachers, so each of them got a little card and a choklit from me.

I have three teachers at home: my parents and my granny.
So I took 'em out for dinner last night. It was fun.

The best part: there was no soccer in sight.

It's soccer season. Hurray.

No, the title of this post isn't lacking a final exclamation point.
It's actually depicting the odd situation that I'm in right now.

Kzanderallia is soccer nation. People live and die for soccer. Literally.
They go to the stadiums, they see the games on television, they read about them.
Folks with money go to expensive clubs to play their own matches, while the financially challenged play on the street. Young or old, EVERYBODY loves the game.

BUT...

I'm not one of them.

I don't like soccer, in fact, I don't like sports in general. I don't like to play 'em, and even less, to watch them on the tube. When I'm at the gym, I cling to the only TV set that isn't tuned to ESPN.

I see the people cheering and screaming at the tube, and ask myself, "Is there something wrong with me??? Why can't I interest myself on this sport?? So many people like it, why can't I???" I know I could try to learn about the game, the history, the players. I could even learn to play if I wanted to.

If I wanted to.

I have no idea why I'm like this, but it can sure make you feel alien amongst your compatriots. Specially now, that the EuroCup is playing. It's everywhere. At work, on the papers, on the news. When I get home, my dad and my sisters talk about the day's game. Portugal is in, France is out!! OMIGOD!!!

And I'm thinking, "SO WHAT? Why is the fate of a soccer team relevant?? I mean, they're Europeans, for Gosh's sake. They all live in another friggin' continent! It's not like you know any of these people, or that your life is gonna improve somehow by their triumph or defeat."

But, of course, none of this is ever said. I just let them have their little soccer frenzy while I go up to my room, lock the door and perform more relevant tasks, like writing in my blog.

I can't wait for the EuroCup to end. Then I'll finally have my family back.
For a while, at least.

H2O is falling on my head

YEAH!! RAIN, AT LAST!!

It’s rainy season in Kzanderallia. Or at least, it seems that way.
Weatherwise, you can never be sure of anything.

I hope the rain spell lasts. Another week in this heat and I’ll go mad.

Guaranteed.

I need some Schadenfreude...PRONTO!

Two girls at work graduated in the last two months.
A guy who was five years behind in school is gonna graduate in a month or so.
So is a guy who was a year behind and even dropped out two years.
One of my best buds will graduate in about three weeks.

Everybody’s graduating... But me. Not fair.
In my own defense, I AM working on graduating, but these guys beat me to it.

Still, right now I’m totally bummed by everybody else’s success.

Could somebody please fail miserably so I can feel better about myself??

Sometimes it ain't easy to blog

Did you read my entry called "In Purgatory"?? Well, lemme tell you: it was a trial to put it in the blog.

First I sent it by mail and it worked fine. But then, I noticed it needed editing. So I tried to edit it, but it sent off error messages. So I tried deleting it and sending it again. Bad idea.

After almost 12 hours of unsuccessfully sending it over and over, I finally chose to log in and write it in myself.

Now you know the kind of sacrifices I do for my loyal readership.

Yes, the both of you.

In Purgatory

This post's title was originally gonna be: "In Hell", but it was a bit much, for I this is a place that certainly has a lot of dread and dispair, but it has its joys as well.

I am talking about work.

Although not exactly Paradise, my job at Lexcorp is usually bearable. The pay is OK (could be better, thou) and the hours are nice. I usually get off work about an hour and a half before the rest of the poor slobs elsewhere. This is good, 'cause I get to beat the rush hours, but I specially like it because it enables me to take on part-time employment at Culture Publishing House, which has allowed me to balance my budget and sustain a decent lifestyle.

Best of all, both jobs are in design, so I actually get paid for doing what I learned in school.

So everything is just peachy, right?? Think again.

Lately, life at Lexcorp has gotten harsh. Here's why: Every six months Lexcorp churns out a compilation of the work done in that amount of time. Every "book" is in fact composed of three to four volumes. And each volume is 300 pages long, solid text.

That wouldn't be a big deal, except for the fact that work on said publication had been abandoned for about three years. Now the powers that be want the collection up to date by August. Problem is, that means 32 volumes, or about 9600 pages, total.

Right now, we are currently a month behind schedule. My boss is a total wreck, and keeps pressuring me to work faster and harder. As a result, I am tense all the time, my mood is lousy and I'm starting to develop a nasty twitch on my left eye.

Just last week, my doctor asked me to reduce my stress levels. Now, I guess THAT will have to wait.

When having a fan is a bad thing

I have a fan.

I bet you’re thinking, “Big deal, KZ! With your sharp wit, charming personality and good looks, that’s to be expected.”

But no, it’s not that kind of fan.
I mean the electric appliance.
You know, the kind you use when you’re hot.

No, not THAT appliance.

The fan I’m referring to is “a machine using an electric motor to rotate thin, rigid vanes in order to move air, as for cooling”.

Got it?? Great. Let’s move on.

As I was saying, I have a fan.

This fan is a hand down from my parents. I really appreciate it, ‘cause this room of mine can be quite the furnace after a while.

Here is the fan, in short:
The good news: it works
The bad news: as any discarded appliance, it’s starting to break down, so it takes quite the expertise just to turn it on.

So this is what happens on a typical night. You’re hot, and you want to activate your fan. After pushing all the buttons in a chaotic manner, it starts to function. The blades are spinning, the air is getting circulated and a nice current is starting. So far, so good, right? But then, as it starts to heat up, it begins to make a horrid noise. It’s the most annoying and loud kind of noise you’ve ever heard. It’s like Tarzan’s yell, plus a wounded elephant and a rattling airplane motor, all rolled into one.

Being quite the tech expert, you proceed to remedy the situation in the way you deal with all malfunctioning machinery: you smack it, jiggle it, shake it, hit it and abuse it until it stops making the racket.

Ah, the noise is gone, the air is cool. You have vanquished the infamous Evil Fan.

Everything is right with the world, once again.

A cheesy kind of tragedy

I love cheese: I always have.

I like to eat it in any color, shape or form.

One of my favorite quick-fixin’s is to grab a lot  of cheese, put it in a bowl and stick it in the microwave for a few seconds.
The resulting cheese melt is great with crackers and tomato.

So let me say this one more time: I LOVE CHEESE.

But Fate can be very, very cruel.

I got some blood tests done recently, but they didn’t come out so well.
As a result, my doctor has ordered me to avoid all milk products for three weeks.
This means milk, cream, yogurt...
...and CHEESE!!

After the doctor told me the tragic news, I was flabbergasted.
I still am. I can’t fathom a cheeseless world. It’s a horrible concept.
But that’s gonna be my life for the next three weeks.
Somebody kill me.

Is this what Hell is like?

Un-real television

I thought soaps were bad.
But that was before I knew about 'reality tv'.

What’s so realistic about it??? It’s taped in low-quality video. And it looks that way.
Since it is ‘real’, a script is basically non-existant. Also, people featured in such shows are ugly.
Beauty, apparently, is not ‘real’.

Big Brother, The Real World, Road Rules, Average Joe, Jackass, The Bachelor, The Bachelorette,  Survivor, American Idol...
HELP! THEY’RE EVERYWHERE!!

Blog? What blog??

Again, I’ve neglected my blog for a ludicrous amount of time.
Big surprise.

About two weeks, I think.

By now, I wouldn’t be shocked if my readership count had finally dropped to zero. Couldn’t blame them, really.
When people visit a blog, they want a regularly kept account of experiences that are interesting, funny, or thought-provoking.


No wonder nobody’s reading this blog!

Get a life. Period.

A few weeks ago, I came to the lunch area at work to find a couple of women in what seemed to be a normal session of gossip.
But this was no ordinary chitchat:

-Well, Deyanira is such a nice girl, not like Lukia.
-Did you know that Lukia once cheated on her boyfriend with his best friend?
-I think she never loved Nosros. I know for a fact that she hooked up with him just for his money.
-Really??

It took me a while to realize that they weren’t talking about actual people, but characters on a soap. A soap!!

I just don’t get soaps or ‘daytime dramas’, as they’re also called.

I find them kinda absurd. Everything is so over-dramatized, and the plot twists are so outlandish. Usually, script is bland and the characters are lame and stereotypical.
But that’s ok. It’s how the genre is.

What I don’t get is how people are so willing to tune in day after day for months, even years. Don’t they have other things to do?
Are their lives so empty, that they need to live other people’s live instead?? Who knows.

But hey, to each his own. If people want to spend countless hours in front of the TV, that’s their choice to make. Personally, I couldn’t do it. I can’t stand long, endless stories.
I like to get to the point fast, and want my stories to do the same. Also, it seems as kind of a slavery of sorts.
No thanks.

It kinda pisses me off, though, when those people start talking about what the characters did on the last episode, like those ladies in the coffee room were doing.
I badly want to stand up and shout: “GET A LIFE, LOSERS!!”. So far, I’ve always managed to refrain myself.

But I don’t know for how long I’ll be able to.

Getting Hot in Here!!!

Damn, it’s hot.

I got a fan whirring away about ten inches from my face, but still feels like a furnace. And it’s not even daytime!!

It wasn’t always like this. We used to be called “The Land of the Eternal Spring”, or something like that. The reason being, it was cool in here. You couldn’t go outside without a sweater. Not to chilly, not too hot. Lovely climate, really.
But that was before the good ol’ Kzanderallian people started choppin’ down all the trees and pouring cement all over the place. It wasn’t long afterwards that the weather patterns started get all screwed up. The rain season got shorter and shorter and the summer got longer and hotter.

Nowdays, Kzanderallia is a torrid town.

Doing anything in this heat is tortuous. Walking, sleeping, eating, breathing... Anything.
Air conditioning is a total lifesaver. But not everyone has that.

I feel for the sorry souls that have to venture into traffic with those oven-like vehicles they have. Imagine: you’re under a blazing, charring sun, sitting inside a hunk of metal that’s trapping all the heat. You’re covered in sticky, heavy sweat. Your butt sticks to the upholstery.  The cars aren’t moving an inch. And then, a guy starts honking away like a jackass.

Under such circumstances, road rage is more than understandable.

Hey, where is everybody??

Why isn’t anybody posting comments??
Does this mean that I’m not getting my usual quota of readership??

I will not lie and say that this doesn’t affect me, ‘cause it does.
I am a silly, vain man. I need reassurance and validation on a regular basis.
The comments served me in both ways, but now they have stopped completely. For days.
DAYS, MAN!! As I am totally vacuous and shallow, I’ve found myself obsessing on this fact.

I mean, what could be better than reading my blog??

Post explosion!!!

Wow, that was six posts in one night!!
That's gotta be a record of sorts!!

Ok, gotta go to sleep for now. This overworked brain needs the rest.

Raindrops are falling on my head...

Today, as I got down from the car to go to the gym, I decided to grab my raincoat and umbrella, just in case. It was so lucky I did, ‘cause it started to pour massively a couple of minutes later.

Ahh, it's winter season in Kzanderallia. About time, too.

After months of scorching heat, the rains have started to fall a couple of weeks ago. A month late, though. This you can chalk it up to deforestation of the nearby areas. Who would know you couldn’t cut down all the trees for lumber and expect the weather to sit still? Not the lumber mills, for one.

A night at the movies with Kz

You know, when I go to the movies, I try to appreciate the good and the bad aspects in a film. Maybe the plot was bland, but hey, the effects weren’t as bad. Or maybe the effects weren’t so good, but the concept was fresh. Or whatever.

This way, I rarely come out disappointed.

Now that doesn’t mean I can’t tell a good film when I see it. I do, I really do.
Also, when a film is sucky beyond repair, I can tell too.
But luckily, most films have at least some redeeming quality.

One thing you must have, though, is a clear idea of the kind of film you’re paying to see.
It is quite absurd to demand Shakespeare-level writing from a blockbuster. If you go see an independent film, you can’t expect happy endings galore.  
I mean: get a grip, people!!

Crushing people to death and other banal stuff

Traffic can be murder. Seriously.

Just the other day, I was being Mr. Competent Driver, minding my own business while driving 70 MPH down a city street, when a moron walked right in front of my car.
The guy was on drugs or totally drunk, for he only noticed he had wandered to the middle of the road when I started honking at him like a maniac.
He just looked at the 3 tons of steel coming at him, shrugged, turned around and walked towards the sidewalk. Good thing he did, for I don’t know if I would’ve been able to break in time.

Driving is definitely not for amateurs.  

About the length of my posts

Maybe you haven't really noticed, but I tend to use big type and small paragraphs. I also have a tendency to use a lot of short words, and sentences of reduced length.

That not coincidental, it’s a reflection of who I am.

As the years have passed, I’ve noticed I have VERY short attention spans. Blame it on the TV, if you like. Some call it ADD, short for Attention Deficit Disorder.
Now, I’ve never been actually diagnosed with ADD, but to me it’s as plain as day.
You see, I get bored fast. If you want my undivided attention, SORRY! you can’t have it.
Or at least, you can’t have it for more than a few seconds. Minutes, if you’re REALLY good.

That is why I’m not really good at writing lengthy pieces. I get bored halfway! Also, I figure that a lot of people are like me, so I try to get to the point fast.
Maybe this explains why I got stuck writing my thesis. I couldn’t really bring myself to read the whole thing, so I didn’t really read it that much.
And when you consider that I was the one who had written it, it’s no wonder it tanked. HARD.

My impatient nature doesn’t help things, either. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to get this far academically.

But, I’m working on my alleged ADD. I’m trying to focus myself more, and not let my mind wonder so much.
I’m resting more, also, for I’ve noticed that when I’m tired, my attention levels drop even more. I think I’m making a lot of improvement.

Ok, enough of this!!
Let’s move to the next post already!!!

Let's get blogging, people!!!

Yeah, I've slacked off quite a bit. Last post was back on May 28th!!
It’s not that things worthy of being mentioned haven’t happened.
The thing is that I’m still not used to blogging, so I haven’t made the time to sit down, order my thoughts and blog.
That isn’t nearly as easy as it sounds.

Several days, I’ve told myself, “Today, I’ll blog!!”
But then, I end up doing other stuff (web surfing, checking my mail, talking to my girlfriend, etc.)
By the time I decide to blog, I’m way too tired, and then I just go and plop down on the bed and snore away.

But not today. Today, I’ve got a zillion things to blog about. Just have to get my ideas together in my head.
I dunno how other bloggers do it. Some people have Bible-like blogs, with tons and tons of material each day. I admire their discipline. And the way they can reach inside and pull out great pieces of blog.
Wait. “Pieces of blog”??  That doesn’t sound right!
But you know what I mean. These people blog their hearts out.

You gotta respect that.