Flavius

Flavius and I have been friends almost since I can remember. We met when we were both 5. We went to the same school until the sixth grade, when he switched. But we never stopped being friends, even after we started to see each other less and less and our lives started to grow apart.

I hadn't spoken to him in over a year when he popped up with startling news: he was getting married!

The indecent proposal

When the invitation arrived, however, it was just my name on the card. My mom was crushed, for she considered herself to be friends with Flavius's folks. So this seemed a slap in the face for her. Although I tried to explain to her that it could've been a mistake in labeling, she refused outright to go.

I was put in an awkward position. Should I stick by my mom and not go? Or should I stick by my friend and go?

I had a talk with my mother and resolved that I shouldn't mind her feud and go cause Flavius was my friend and he wanted me to be there.
Only after getting her blessing, I attended.

At the church

Ivy and I arrived about fifteen minutes before the wedding ceremony ended. We had to stand, for all the seats were taken. I got the chance to see my childhood friend standing in the isle, his black smoking filled to the brim with equal parts of shock and excitement. The bride looked beautiful, like a princess all dressed up in white. After the ceremony, the couple ran, not walked, to a green Mercedes that was waiting for them.

What followed was a mad dash for the hotel where the reception was being held. You know how crazy Friday Night traffic can be, and the place was about four miles away. Luckily, we got there rather fast.

At the hotel

The hotel was decorated in an elegant and sober style. Ivy and I found a table that was just the right distance between the dance floor and the exit. If we either wanted to party down or run away, we were nicely positioned for both.

Then the new couple walked in and stepped onto the dance floor. They looked just as elegant they had back in the church. The music started to flow from the twelve man orchestra. As they started to move, I know the whole audience shared a single thought: "Oh God, why didn't anybody think of dancing lessons??"

The case of the uptight bride

The couple invited everyone to make a toast and then proceded to visit each table and have their picture taken with every one. Around halfways into it, I could notice the bride was frowning quite a bit. She seemed quite stressed, in fact. I guess after a while of carrying that humongous (yet beautiful) wedding dress, I would be grouchy as well. Oh well, she’ll have time to relax. That’s what honeymoons are for, right?

Aftermath

The rest of the wedding was uneventful. Ivy and I chatted with the rest of the guests seated at the table. The gentleman seated at my left turned out to be a close friend of Flavius’s folks, and regaled us with wonderful anecdotes and stories. He told us how he and his wife have been together for 41 years (6 as a boyfriend and girlfriend and 35 as a married couple). Ivy and I had a great time. We danced a bit and the food was great (due to our splendid location, we were one of the first to reach the buffet). I got to say hi to my friend, take a photo at his side, and wish him godspeed in his new journey as a married man. We slipped out a little before the wedding cake was cut. I was getting kinda tired and Ivy had classes early, so the both of us had to rest. But I bet Ivy stayed awake all night thinking about how her own wedding’s gonna be like.

Guess what I'm eating!

No, nothing fancy like caviar.
No, nothing odd like monkey brains (They looked tasty in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom!)

Ok, give up??

...I'M EATING SOGGY JELL-O!

No, my fridge isn't out of order.
No, my granny hasn't rebelled and stopped making me food.

The thing is that I was kinda pekish when I came in tonight and didn't want something dry like a muffin or heavy like pie. So I started diggin thru the refrigerator and found this bowl of semi-solid gelatin, which my granny warned me not to eat cause it wasn't ready yet. But I'm such a freaky eater that it didn't matter to me that it was soft and soggy and so I took out a spoon and proceeded to clean up the whole gelatin bowl. It was cranberry-flavored. Yum!

Now don't look at me like that.
I already told you I'm a freaky eater.

Late night deliveries

It happened again.

I came home, looked at the clock and realized:

A.- That I had totally forgotten to take back DVDs to the video store
B.- That I had 11 minutes left to reach the shop before I had to pay about $10 in late fees.

So I ran down the stairs, dashed out the door, got into my car and drove off like the Devil himself was chasin' me. I must've set a new record for Most Traffic Violations in 5 Minutes. Lucky me, no cops were around, and managed to make it with about 2 whole minutes to spare. Then I realized I had gone to the wrong video shop!! So I revved my car and took off. Once I got to the RIGHT store, I sprinted past the door, turned over the DVDs to the clerk and allowed myself to gasp for air.

This always happens to me. Every time I rent videos, I end up forgetting to return the movies, and end up taking them back at the very last minute. This sucks.

However, after I've succesfully handed back the videos, I am usually overcome by such a rush that it makes the whole thing worthwhile. It's like I'm an adrenaline junkie or something.

Tonight I rented a couple of more videos. What can I say? I need my fix.

Super cookie!

My girlfriend baked me a cookie today.



Have I ever told you how much I TOTALLY LOVE this woman??

I had forgotten about this

After you neglect your blog for a while, you forget about how it is: the frustration of the delays in publishing, the problems when editing posts and the anguish of comments.

What can I do? I like feedback on the stuff I do. Does this mean I'm insecure? Heck yeah!

And while I'm coming off clean, I'd also like to state for the record that I don't like piña coladas OR getting caught in the rain.

How could you not like classical music??

It's not that I don't like classical music, but I never felt enthused by it, you know what i mean??
No more!! Check out Bond. These four English ladies have managed to put the adrenaline back into a fiddle!!

Don't let it happen to you!

Did you ever see that Friends’ episode where Ross had an espectacular fit of rage just because somebody had eaten his sandwich??
I thought that it was utterly absurd for a grown man to have that kind of reaction for such a small thing.

Until it happened to me, just today.

At lunchtime, I opened the office fridge to get my food out and noticed I was missing one Tupperware dish. Sure enough, the food container that had some of my Granny’s   famous breaded chicken was gone! Apparently somebody mistook my container for his/her own and had a lunch way better than they would’ve had otherwise.

I have to admit, this was bound to happen, for I never placed any distinguishing marks on my food containers, so they were fair game.
Oh, but trust me, that won’t happen again!! Next time my boys go out into the field they are gonna be plastered with my name in every possible size and shape.

Anyway, the food theft meant I had to go to the nearby Burger Joint to get something to replace my missing main course.
I must admit the burger was OK and everything, but it was no homemade chicken!! Never will a deep-fry cook match my Granny's prowess on the kitchen!

Oh, when I think about whole issue my blood starts boiling inside my veins!! But the finger still can’t be pointed at anybody in particular. As I write this, there are no witnesses and nobody has come forward to take the blame.
Heh, I guess I better forget about it before the rage builds inside me and I end up shotgunning coworkers just like a postman on a bad day.

Got Skype??

A few months ago, my sister told me about Skype, and I was totally thrilled by the concept of being able to call people thru the internet, for free! As soon as I got cable internet on my computer, I downloaded the Skype app and in matter of minutes I was talking with people hundreds of miles away, without paying a cent!! As time passed, I got to talk with friends from the US, Brazil, Europe... Imagine, the whole world united in my desktop! Isn't technology beautiful?

I am spreading the word. Everyone should have this beautiful technology.

God bless Skype.

(Groan)

I woke up today with an extremely sore throat, body pain and exhaustion. I can barely talk or swallow. It seems my larynx is painfully swollen.
All of this is due to the fact that I stayed up all night talking over that f***ing internet phone.

God damn Skype.

Fixin' up the place

After almost ONE YEAR of blogging, I finally got me some time to tweak up my blog a bit.
Heck, now it's all customized!!

What did you say??
No, the colors are the same.
No, I didn't change the fonts, either.
Um, yeah, the layout was unchanged too.

OK, OK!! So it still looks pretty much like Blog Template #6!

But hey: at least it has my logo now.

 

Is THIS being fashionable??

My dad was a veritable dandy. He had racks of ties, socks, and suits. He had loads and loads of shirts. And the man knew how to put it all together. Even in his casual wear, he looked impeccable all the time.  Everything was well pressed, all his shoes were polished. Every week he bought an extra tie, or he had some new suit made. He truly enjoyed being well groomed. Never quite at the forefront of fashion, he was disapproving of the many ridiculous trends he had to witness: tight bellbottoms, flowered shirts, acid-wash jeans... They were all abominations.

Lucky for him, he never got to see the mind-blowingly absurd trend that is a hit with teens today: “brand-new, worn-out clothes”. Manufacturers take a perfectly good piece of clothing and they dye, sandblast and hot-press it till it looks like it is 10 or 15 years old.



And it’s not just jeans. Caps, sweatshirts, you name it.
Ripped, torn, faded... these clothes seem like they’re Goodwill rejects. And yet, kids pay $120 to be dressed like a hoodlum.

WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU PEOPLE??

I sincerely believe a whole generation of kids was dropped on its head.

Mass Murderer!!

I never thought tonight I’d become a killer. But I had no choice.

It happened just a few hours ago. I saw one of them, then a lot more. They were quite a few and seemed to be in what looked like a gang. I was immediately overcome with maddening rage. I felt the urge to kill right there and then.
 
So I crept up right behind them and I killed one, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to kill them all, before they turned on me. And so, I started with my murderous spree. I killed one, two... I lost count! I followed them, right to their homes and brought death to their door. I couldn’t stop myself!

But no matter what, those freaking ants kept coming at me, so I kept spraying their asses until I ran out of Bug-Kill.

I am proud of my deadly deed. My front door is now a wasteland. Insect carcasses litter the ground as far as the eye can see.
In my mind, I can almost see it:

Kz: 1    
Bugs: 0

But as happy as I feel for my glorious victory, I know that for every bug killed a hundred will return.

I must be ready for them.

Ok, let's try this thing!

This is nothing but a mere test to see if the dang blog-by-mail is back on track.
Pay no attention to it. And in case you already don’t pay attention to anything i say, then just pretend like you did pay attention at some point in time, and then just decided to not pay attention to this mere post.

Confused?? Me too. I think I will stop paying attention to myself as well.

My ripped slipper

A loooong time ago, (I think it was still the nineties) I remember going into a store and buying me a pair of badly-needed slippers. My previous pair was totally falling apart so I had decided to retire them and get a spankin' new pair.

Time has passed, and now those once-new slippers are falling apart as well. Actually, just one is. The right slipper has come off in the strap that keeps the foot firmly set onto the sole of this comfortable footwear. So every time I tried to take a step, my foot would move forward while the slipper would stay in the very same spot.

After trying using several kinds of glue to keep the slipper together, I ended using some Scotch tape. Scotch tape, you ask?? Well, it ain't pretty, but it does the deed. For a while, at least. Then the tape comes off and the slipper falls apart once again. It isn't pretty, as you may well imagine, but it works.

Why didn't I just go to the store and get a new pair?? Right now, you must be thinking:
a) KZ is a cheap S.O.B.
b) KZ is a poor S.O.B.
c) KZ is a really lazy S.O.B.
d) KZ has an ugly shoe fetish

But the truth is, I didn't consider it necessary. I mean, the sole was ok, the straps were ok (except the unglued part). Also, they were very comfortable and nobody will ever see me with these slippers on, since I only use them within the confines of my room. Taking all of this into account, buying new slippers was a complete non-priority.

By my mom didn't see it that way. She couldn't bear the thought that her little boy (that would be moi) would be walking around with slippers that looked like Goodwill rejects.

She must've talked to my sister or something, because the next thing I know, I get this really nice, shiny rubber slippers.

Hey, it's not like I am emotionally attached to any footwear. Ripped slippers are comfy, but if somebody gives me new ones, I will trade them in a heartbeat. And the slippers my sis gave me were very cool-looking indeed. They seemed to be made with quality plastic. Awesome.

I rejoiced, my mom rejoiced. At last, the monstruous slippers would be banished from the house for all eternity and I would be wearing the best damn plastic slippers this side of the Equator!!

Beautiful thoughts, huh? However, they were not meant to be. The slippers didn't fit. After five minutes of having them on, I would cease to feel my toes at all. And if I were to have them on any longer, I would be risking losing a toe to gangrene. So I handed the shoes back to my sis and asked her to change them for a bigger size.

It's been almost two months since, and my sister hasn't gone to the store to make the exchange. I think she even lost the receipt. So my awesome new slippers are gathering dust in a box somewhere.

Tonight, I tried box-packing tape on my ripped slipper.
It worked like a charm.

The Church and me

Since I was a fetus in my mother's womb, I was raised a Roman Catholic, just like most kids in Kzanderallia at the time. Communion, confirmation, Hail Mary, mother of Christ and stuff like that. And it was good, it really was. I went to Mass, prayed before going to sleep. I was a good Catholic boy.

But as I grew up, I discovered some stuff about Catholicism bugged me. Banal stuff (at least they seemed that way to me at the time): Why must priests be single? Isn’t this going against human nature? And why can't there be female priests??

If you found the above comments somewhat controversial, just wait: it gets better.

Later I discovered that I also had problem with the heavier stuff: the dogmas. In case you were wondering, a dogma is a religious doctrine that is proclaimed as true without proof, like the Holy Trinity: A trinity? Isn’t it THREE GODS?? Last time we checked, we were monotheists, or has that changed? And just why is the Holy Ghost “a person”?? Why couldn’t it just be the Father and Jesus? And why did Mary have to remain untouched after giving birth to Jesus? I mean, once that was over, why couldn’t she and Joseph be a couple and have more kids?

You get the idea.

As time passed, even more questions kept piling up. During my first years in college, I had no girlfriend, so I had a lot of time to dwell on stuff like this. And I got more confused every time I started thinking about Catholisism and religion. My perspectives changed almost daily. I was adrift.

I thought a massive infussion of Christ would help me. I decided to check out The Other Side: the “separated brothers” who left the Catholic Church along with Martin Luther during the Middle Ages. They are known as Protestants, but most prefer to be called Christians.

So I hung around Christians, listened to Christian music, attended ‘cells’ (Christian youth groups) and even went to a few services. It will always amaze me the devotion this guys have. They are fully commited to their churches, and don’t flinch at the thought of three-hour services each Sunday. Three hours straight! And I felt that a 60-minute Mass was pushing it a bit.

I tried, but I just couldn’t get into the ‘WWJD’ feeling. I felt fake all the time I was there. So I dropped it.

Then I started to rebel against almost every form of organized religion. I saw every religious head as a phony who turned his followers into brainless zombie slaves, while sucking their wallets dry.

Now I should make it clear that all this furious theological rebellion pretty much existed solely within the confines of my mind, for I never acted on it. I didn’t even stop going to Mass! In retrospect, I don’t think anybody really noticed my heretic phase. It’s kinda sad, now that I think about it.

Time has passed and I have made a peace of sorts with the Church. Catholicism is not perfect, but it is the one religion I really like. I don’t think I’m 100% Catholic anymore, though, since I have decided to just believe in the things that make sense to me. A real Catholic wouldn’t do that. He would take the whole enchilada and gulp it down without hesitation, just like my mom and my granny.

So that’s me nowdays: part Catholic, part heretic, mostly moronic.

I must say, one Christian belief I never had any problems thinking about was Hell. Maybe that’s because a part of me knows one day I will be rotting in there for sure.

Juri

There’s a new guy down at the office. His name is Juri, and in very short time he has managed to freak out all the women and a few of the men who work there. Maybe it’s his weird name. It could also have to do with the fact that he has big ears and big teeth. Or maybe the fact that he eats like a rodent.

All this characteristics actually make perfect sense since he is, in fact, a mouse.

Yeah, we got a mice problem down at Lexcorp. Needless to say, nobody is thrilled about it. A single mouse can turn into many quite fast. So a coworker named Louis decided to bring a mousetrap to catch the little bugger and put him out of comission.

Yesterday afternoon Louis prepped the trap and even put a bit of cheese as bait (yeah, cheese). I tried telling him that cheese only works in Tom and Jerry cartoons. In REAL life, meat works better to reel mice in. But he didn’t listen and i just shook my head and walked away.

Against all odds, the trap worked!
This morning, when Louis walked in at 7:00 and checked the trap, this is what he found:



Four hours later, he was still laughing.

The return of the mad blogger

Yes, this quaint little blog has been out of business for quite a while.
Several stuff happened in my life, which prevented me from publishing here.

But now I’m back!!

Whether that is a good thing or not, I leave it to you, my beleaguered readers.
You’re the ones who have to read this stuff.

A quick update

After a long bout with cancer, my dad finally passed away November 10th, 2004.
Stay tuned for the full story, coming soon to a blog near you.

Fleur

Fleur worked for the Communications Office down at Lexcorp. Despite being in different departments, she and I were the only designers in company, so we used to chat about fonts, headings, and design ideas. She was fun to hang around with. She talked about her husband and her pregnancy. It was her first kid, so she was totally ecstatic.

But, there was a twist: she only had one kidney. Having one kidney can be harsh in itself, but it can be quite serious in case of pregnancy. It was a gamble and she lost. Around the fifth month, her blood pressure skyrocketed and her baby died. Then, a couple of days later, her condition stabilized and the doctors sent her home. She seemed fine. But less than a day later, something happened and she died. Probably, her kidney couldn’t take the stress and gave out.

There is a dark atmosphere at the Communications Office nowdays. Fleur’s colleagues blame her boss for her untimely demise. Apparently, she repeatedly overworked Fleur even after her pregnancy got complicated. Instead of resting at home, Fleur had to work extra, even weekends.

And you thought Scrooge was just some character on a Dickens story.

The first rule of Fight Club is...

...you don't talk about Fight Club. But I will. And lots.

Recently I’ve become a Fight Club fanatic. What can I say? I love that weird little film. I love the acting, I love the music, I love the photography. The effects are excellent. But first and foremost, I love the writing. In a sea of dissapointing movies, this one stands afloat time after time. Like the first Matrix, it blew me away the first time I saw it. And then you can revisit the film and note the little details you’ve missed, despite the fact that they were there all along.

So once I got the DVD, about six months ago, I couldn’t help but watching it almost the whole way thru that very night. Only total exhaustion and the fact that I had to work the next day prevented me from watching it whole. Since then, I’ve seen it in its entirety about eight or nine times. Just so I don’t get saturated with it, I have opted for selected watching. Just seeing specific parts of the movie, a few minutes at the time.  

But what I really love is the backbone: the story. Tyler Durden outlook speaks the truth: “You are not your job. You are not your f...ing khakis!”
It’s a pain-filled yell against society’s merciless twisiting of the hunter/gatherer instict into compulsive consumism. It’s also an urge to find freedom in your existence, to escape rigid conformity.
It’s your life. Where will you spend your next minute?

Choose fast. Another second just went by.

Season's Greetings!!

Bye Dad

After a long battle with cancer, my dad passed away today.
Dad, you will be sorely missed.

Cut off!!

A few days ago, the phone went out. We had it coming. It had made a strange noise for a while, and then,  one day it just went out. We’ve called the phone company, but it will be a while.

This means my dial-up internet connection is gone as well. I feel totally isolated. Well, I still have my cell phone, and my mom lent hers to my granny. So we are still semi-connected.

But... I want my Internet!!

Luckily, there are choices. My parents have a cable connection, and so does my girlfriend. There is the occasional internet cafe or the campus lab. But nothing beats being able to hook up at midnight to look at some dirty slu....uhm, I mean... to check up Merriam-Webster.com for new words to add to my vocabulary. Yes, that’s what I always do with my online time. Always.

Can’t live without that Webster.

A few words about my dad

Ok, it's time to talk about something that's been troubling me for a very long time.

My dad is sick, really sick.

He has a malignant lymphoma in his neck. It started on his panchreas two years ago, but you know how cancer doesn't like to confine itself to just one place. So it migrated to his neck. That's when things got ugly. The lymph nodes there starting to swell up, and he started to get a lot of bulges around his throat. That was kinda hard to watch, but the best was yet to come. The doctors decided to put a catheter in him, so the chemotherapy could have a direct input into his bloodstream. So he has a plastic valve grafted onto his chest, barely covered with  a layer of skin. You can clearly see the contours of the thing. It's gross. Very Frankenstein-ish. I can't imagine what having that must feel like.

When the cancer got to his panchreas, it made him diabetic. But when it got to his neck, it crushed several nerves and paralyzed half of his face.

The chemo started to waste my old man away. He quickly lost over 50 pounds. And his hair.

Eventually, some of the hair grew back, and some of the pounds made a return. But it wasn't the same. His arms, which used to be thick as a log, became as thin as matchsticks.

The drugs started to wreack havok on his body. His digestive system got devastated. He was the one who taught me the love of food. Now the thought of eating one of his beloved burgers is enough to make him heave.

It is as if 30 years dropped on him in just one year. He used to be a vivacious man. He used to look 10 years younger than his real age. Now he looks 80. The disease has turned him into a frail old man.

The doctors have given up trying to cure him, and now are focusing on lessening his pain. He may not last more than six more months.

Making peace with the past

I smirk whenever I see a TV show that has kids mouthing off to their parents. Had I done anything REMOTELY close to that when I was a kid, I would’ve had to pick my teeth off the floor.

I got my dose of whuppings when I was a kid. I used to resent my Dad for it. He wasn’t (and still isn’t) the easiest person to talk to. You couldn’t summon his wrath without grave consequence. And boy, was that easy to do!  Several times as a kid, he felt the need to show me my place with a good smack to the back of my head every now and then. If you haven’t been slapped in the back of the head, it’s not fun, trust me.
 
When my own kids misbehave, I’ll whip their lower back till there is no skin in there, but I’ll leave their heads alone. I figure God put extra filling in the butt area for a good reason. Those cheeks aren’t just for sitting, kids!!

As a consequence of the body punishments, I used to resent my Dad profoundly. But that was before he got sick. It’s hard to hold a grudge at somebody who is fading away before your very eyes.

This is not my dad

I want the man I knew two years ago. Give him back.

I have stopped taking pictures. I loved to photograph my family every chance I had. But now I won’t go with a camera near my dad. This is not how I want to remember him. I don’t think he would like to be remembered this way, either.

Cancer is a monster

It can take everything away: your health, your youth, your will to live. But it can't take your family's love away. We love you, Dad. We always will.

May God give each one of us the strength to overcome this terrible trial.