Yay! I'm freeeee...!

Finally! FINALLY! I don't have to worry about school anymore, today I finished my last exam. I'll have to come to college for a other more week, but just to check out my grades and, be them as they may, for better or for worse, I can't do a single thing about them. I did what had to be done, and I can do so no more. Bliss!

I feel like it's been eons since I last had free time and was able to come here and tip some of my thoughts into the bloggy world. My head is so full, I think it would've been better to come here for a quick vent/refresh, but that sort of time was a luxury I couldn't afford. But here I am now. And it feels great!

Can you tell how incredibly relieved I feel? Ok I admit I'm very tired: my eyes burn from lack of sleep and I'm short of enthusiastic, not at all how I seem on print right now. But don't be mistaken. I am jumping up and down right now. Inside. My joy is an internal one, one of hope and peace.

No homework! No essays! No freakin' exams! And on the other hand, this is translated directly into more sleep, more time with my baby and my babe (coff coff, my hubby), more time to blog, to sleep,to read for leisure, to visit friends and family, to sleep... you get the picture.

As a matter of fact, I'm going to visit my grammy today and so'll my big bro so I'll get to see him too. I just love coming over to visit my old nest. It's so warm and cozy and comfy... I don't have to make any kind of effort at all to keep up a facade. And especially, since my gram and family over there don't see Belle Fille nor me on a regular basis, when we can come over it's like a longed for reunion.

There's no schedual, no program... if I want to sleep, I can do so without worry because I know Belle Fille is being oooed and fawned over at by at least two people. If I'm hungry there's good food available, and even the chance of going out for taquitos. If I want or need a friendly ear, there are several well disposed.

No one is ever in a terrible hurry, no one ever EVER gives off offense, no one yells... You know what, let me give you a tour of my grams' home while I'm at it. It's so nice, I feel peace already just thinking about it.

From the outside, it looks like a wee little house, and when you come in and take a quick glance you realize it really is a small house. But when you look again the dinner table is big and if you squeeze together you can fit at least eight people comfortably. The living room is cozy and perfect for talking because there are no distractions like TV or stereo (those are upstairs) and there's a big window that takes up most of the wall so you don't feel cornered because you can see everything outside and it let's in large amounts of natural light to acentuate the pleasant tone of your conversation.

There's a single picture on the wall in the living room, impressionist, but moderate and completely intelligible. I think it's called "European Walk", and it's a single lane, or walk, lined on the left side by a couple of spaced vases with red and white, blowsy kind of flowers. The vases are on a thick, stone rail and beyond that, more to the left is a small pond with lilys and an old building in the back. To the right of the portrait is a garden, warm and green and inviting, with sunshine spilling out of the upmost leaves.

It's a little messy, a little wild, with leaves on the floor and swirling in the air. And a little lonely, a little secluded you know? If you ever needed time to yourself, or felt sad, or happy, or needed to be inspired, or reflect on a problem, or wanted to walk with that speacial someone, you would choose this walk. You can easily imagine Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy walking along here. And the lane goes on and on infinitely until the garden becomes a green blur and you can barely make out the vases with flowers but you know they're there, just out of your sight.

Hmmm... you know what, I can't do justice to my grams house without writting a lot more, but I don't have too much time on my hands, so I'm afraid I'll have to continue this post another time. It is well worth it.

Well, bye bye for now, and thanks for reading. I'll be back. Soon. And you know why? 'Cuz I'm on vacation!

Whoopee!!! ;)

PS: The pic that comes with this post is named Ophelia and the author is Arthur Hughes. It has nothing to do with my grammys' picture besides it being a picture as well. But I love it!

The mind. The heart.

You know the emotional ferris wheel? Well, I'm not at the bottom, but I'm pretty darn close. I am seriously tired. Not physically, though I just took a nap a little while ago. I'm just sluggish, especially at school. I really wish the semester was over already. Don't get me wrong though, you know how much I love my major, but the superavit I had when the semester was starting is finished. I'm getting burnt out.

I know I'll feel better tomorrow, but these will still be my feelings overall. Also, this won't really matter. I know me. My mind and my heart are close, but not necessarily married. Call me stoic, but it's actually very usefull. I helps me get up every morning, tune my temper, overcome my frustrations, think long term.

My juggling has been lacking lately. All around. To me you know. I hope to those around me it hasn't been noticeable. I don't really doubt it though.

I had tutoring today, school mandatory. And it really helped me land a few things I had fluttering around my head. For example, I like to think ahead to try and prepare you know? And if I don't, at least it's a conscious decision so I can't blame anyone. Anyhow, she talked about how in my major it's really important to speacialize when you graduate. However, you make this decision when you're close to finishing and you've learned enough about the major and about yourself to choose what you want to study, what you want to do.

It's common that you enter college with a very "clear" idea of what you want to do, and you end up doing something totally different, in the same field at most. So I don't need to add that weight to my sack, and I should just chill out more you know?

I'll try and do that more, I tend to excell at it hoho. My hubby also recommended it and my mind is ready to execute.

So I'll just keep smiling and walking forward. My heart will follow.

Talk to the shoe (pump's got attitude)

You know one of lifes' paradox, at least in my case? Shoes. I looove shoes. But I am so darn picky! Coming to look for shoes with me can tire anyone, especially my hubby who buys them.

What about these? Thay're nice.
Yeah... I nod, and keep walking.

Or these? Didn't you mention you wanted ones just like these the other day?
Well, they're very similar, but these have/don't have x.
But you can barely tell them apart.
I know. But still.

I smile apologetically, hug him, and keep walking. It'll probably take me three trips to the mall or its similar to find shoes I'd actually pay for. For example, when I bought my boots I had to drag my amado around shops for a whole weekend and I finally found them at this mall that's for shoes only and shaped like a square. Wanna try and guess in which store I finally found them? In the last freakin'one. If I'd gone right instead of left we would've gone home much, much sooner. And even then they weren't the boots, only we'd been in countless amount of stores and I was worried about exasperating my husband beyond buying me the darned things.



Did I mention I have to love them on sight? I can step into a store, take a quick look around, and if nothing perks my attention at once it won't at all so I'm outta there in three minutes flat most of the time. Tops. I cover a lot of ground that way.

Also, while I might be incredibly picky, I love to look at the shoes other women wear. I can't help it. My eyes are inevitably drawn to the floor to check them out. Mostly I wouldn't buy them either, but now and then I find a real looker and I secretly swoon to my husband who briefly looks the way I indicated, but now it's he is turn to keep walking.

And I'd like to finish this most with a personal issue. See, I couldn't of cared less about shoes, high heels in particular. That is, before I got pregnant. It was when I became an urban penguin and high heels were out of the question that I finally started to notice how pretty these kind of shoes were. But I couldn't wear them! It would frustrate me so much, that I vowed to myself that as soon as Belle Fille had been born and my shoe size became stable once again I would start to wear those funky things.

Except at school. High heels and public transportation do. not. mix.

5 Minutes in College: Maquiavelo

As you all know, I'm a university student so a lot of my thoughts revolve around that fact: be it a class, or homework assignment or these conferences I have to go to every semester in order not flunk that particular subject. Whatevs,the point is I thought you all might benefit from the dark circles under my eyes. I'll occasionally write about stuff I learn at school only digested so it's easy to understand and you don't end up sleep deprived like me.

In a nutshell, I hope you enjoy these five minutes in college.

Machiavelli

Today I'm going to talk about the largely (in my opinion) misunderstood Niccoló Maquiavelli. And no it is not an italian dish, he was an italian guy.

Now, (don´t quote me though) this dude lived between 1469 and 1527 in ancient Italy, only it was nothing like todays´ Italy because it wasn´t organized as a country yet. Rather, there were city-states in constant, ruthless war. It was just brutal: cities were sacked, women were raped, children were killed... the whole enchilada. This was how Machiavelli grew up. You can´t blame the man if he acquired a realistic and crude way to view life!

His two most important books were The Prince where he talks about all the stuff you should do in order to be a good prince like staying in power and, well, staying alive, and Discourses on the First Decade of Titus Livy where he now turns to the proper way to run a republic.

I read The Prince in high school for pleasure and studied and read half of the second book because of this subject at school called Social and Political Theory, or something to that effect ´cuz it´s in spanish. They´re both very practical books that in spite of being obviously outdated (when he says "eliminate" it is not a metaphor)it´s based on human nature. And we may have new gadgets, tecnology and all, but we´re just as good and bad as five hundred years ago, only our toys are much cooler.

We all feel jealousy and anger, passion, love. We´ve become more "civilized", but those instincts are still there, hidden in our subconscious. In fact, Hobson talks of this as Primitive Instincts and their translation into a more modern reality, for example

Nomad habit: the love of traveling
Spirit of adventure: modern hunting, competitive sports
The pleasure of fighting- war: dangerous gambling

See what I mean?

Ok, back to Machiavelli. Before this becomes more of an essay than it already is, I'll leave you with a couple quotes of Machiavelli so you can know him better by what he said and not only by what I wrote. With this these quotes I end these first five minutes in college. I hope you enjoyed it :)

"Men judge generally more by the eye than by the hand, for everyone can see and few can feel. Every one sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are."

"If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared."

"Since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved."

"There is no other way of guarding oneself against flattery than by letting men understand that they will not offend you by speaking the truth; but when everyone can tell you the truth, you lose their respect."

"When neither their property nor their honor is touched, the marjority of men live content."

The Prince

Quotes courtesy of readprint.com

No no no!

Belle Fille has now entered a new fase where she is able to express herself a lot better thanks to a boost in her new vocab. Her first words were mama and papa, followed by nena, agua and guau guau. She moved on to, try and guess, lightbulb. Only that it sounds like laibub, and also ball (baa), among other words. Her most recent word is no. And it is quickly becoming her favorite.

It's time to take your nap babycakes.
No no no

Sweetie stop squirming around, mommy has to change your diapy.
No no no!

How'd you get up the stairs on your own!? Come here...!
Noooooooooo!!!

Need I continue?

She's also starting to develop a slight temper and becoming a tad high maintenance. Nothing out of the ordinary for a one year old, just the usual tantrums in the park. She's become a little spoiled of late. I think it might be because I've been spending too much time with her. I gave her all my attention for hours a few days and I'm afraid now she's gotten used to it.

Before you start to judge me I normally play with her a lot, and take her to the park and for walks on a regular basis, but I also leave her to herself while I tidy up the house, something that I didn't do these days in particular (this because I went to visit my in-laws. I admit I'm messy but I try and be clean. Also, these two are not necessarily synonyms). She had zero competition.

Anyhow, the weekend is over and I'm back in school with homework, not to mention the ironing that I've been putting off on purpose for a while now. FYI I actually like ironing, it's pure strategy haha.

Whatever, we've got some straightening out to do that'll probably be drawn out and I am not looking forward to it. And I quote, "easily in but not easily out, as the lobster said in the lobster pot!"

Belle Filles' Lullaby

So I sing to my baby, right? (By the way, I mentally caress the word, baby, since my daughter seems intent on entering toddledom. Not just now, but she's well on her way) Just like any other momma. But my favorite lullaby isn't exactly rock a bye baby. It's an old mexican song usually sung with mariachi, but I really like the lyrics and so, in a soft song-like coo, I give to you an extract of muñequita linda, my little girls' favorite lullaby:

Muñequita linda de cabellos de oro
Cute little doll with golden hair

de dientes de perla labios de rubí
teeth of pearl, ruby lips

Dime si me quieres como yo te adoro
tell me if you love me as much as I adore you

si de mí te acuerdas como yo de ti.
if you remember me like I do you

A veces escucho un eco divino
sometimes I hear a divine eco

que envuelto en la brisa parece decir...
that enveloped in a breeze seems to say

Sí te quiero mucho, mucho, mucho, mucho
yes I love you very much, very very much

tanto como entonces, siempre hasta morir.
as much as then, always to death.

A typical class

Yipee! After a few not exactly satisfactory quizes at school, I've gotten a bit better, and so, I'll use this as an excuse to describe the different fases I've observed characterize some of my classes.

Stage 1: Off to a Good Start

Freshly showered, so pretty much wide awake. Optimistic but sober. Enter campus strutting ever so slightly because I've got this funky song in my head and am mentally singing it, until I glance at my watch.Drat. I thought I had more time! Pace quickens significantly until correct classroom is reached. Quick glance tells me which chairs are available, but I'll probably choose the nearest one. However, due to short sightedness I developed this dorky habit of sitting front and center during high school. Why I continue this habit is beyond me.

Stage 2: Social Protocol

Slyly check surrondings. Are there friends? Fiends? Strangers? If friends, casual or cheerful conversation will arise. If fiends (I apply the term loosely) I'll pretend to study or doodle in my notebook wondering what the heck I was thinking when I chose that seat. If strangers mood testing evaluation is next. However, before this, have in mind the following variables: Has the teacher arrived? If so, how much time till class actually starts? And especially, do I really feel like talking?

Stage 3: Class

Teacher begins lecture. Consciously focus on paying atention. This feat is easier or harder depending on the subject and the teachers style. For example, a teacher is keen on stamping or hitting the desk to emphasize the main points, which is actually very usefull to drowsy students, whereas I've also been subject to monotonous and unevenful droning that does not help keep you awake at all.

For our purpose, let's say that this particular class isn't very stimulating. And so, the battle begins.

Stage 4: Denial

I begin to feel sleepy. Eyes start to flutter and I have to concentrate on keeping them open. Mind over matter triumphs. That is, until my mind starts to play tricks on me.

Teacher has a twin? And what's up with their dressing up in exactly the same clothes? That's creepy. Hmmm... why is this room so warm? And quiet. Mmm...

I start to nod off. I start a mantra. Don't fall asleep. Do not fall asleep. Don't... fall asleep. Don't... sleep. Don'... sleep. Sleep. Sleep? Sleeeeeeep...




Stage 5: The Comeback

OK I'm falling asleep, gotta do something about it before the teacher looks my way, I aint 'xactley sutil here

Pinch. Ow! It sort of worked but is totally temporary. Also, since my tolerance for pain is pretty high, I've got to pinch really hard for it to actually hurt and I don't want to explain the marks on my arm at home. So what doesn't leave evidence? Hmmm...

I start to pull my hair. First lightly, and end up yanking. That did the trick! Unfortunetely, it also drew attention, and a friend is currently laughing at me.Oh well.

Wait a minute. Didn't I buy coffee candy the other day in preparation for today? Where the heck is it!?

Stage 6: The End

Now that I am succesfully awake, class is actually very interesting. Geopolitics. And suddenly, class is over. Dang! What I miss? I write down the homework, pack my stuff up and walk out the door.

If I'm lucky I bump into a friend or two emerging from their respective classes and savor a few minutes of refreshing comradeship. If I need to, I go to the library.

If not, I go straight to where Belle Fille is, thinking of her and of food. And probably about how freakin' hot it is.


How was school today? Great. Really great.

My Amado

I´ve never talked to you about my Amado before have I? He’s my husband.

He is a pretty normal guy. He’s tall and works out so I can woo him with ease (and I do that a lot) He shaves nearly every day. He likes coffee as much as I do as well as piña colada (yum!) He loves to watch Friends and The Big Bang Theory. He dislikes it when the car is dirty, but is sensible enough to detach himself from that notion when it’s rainy season and you have to wash your car constantly because it gets dirty right away, besides the fact that I don’t mind eating crackers and the like inside it. And Belle Fille is a baby so she isn’t neat either. (Sorry honey, I’ll clean it up later!)

Mmm… what else…

His heart melts in protective love for our daughter. He can’t abide her getting even a teeny bit hurt. He was so disgruntled with me when Belle Fille fell of the bed because of my carelessness. In my defense, however, she’d never rolled in front of me before. I didn’t think she could move at all! Much less cover the entire distance from the middle of the bed to the edge, and right off it. It’s a big bed! Anyway…

He plays with her and talks to her sweetly… the other day I heard him singing her a lullaby that consisted of one word (light bulb. I’ll explain later) but it was in such a tender, caring tone that he had both her and me in rapt attention. That is, until he realized I was behind him and asked me what was wrong, probably wondering why I was looking at him with a goofy smile on my face. But he lets her know who’s boss when she pinches/ bites/ hits me because I don’t let her have her way. Though I have to admit she’ll have him eating from the palm of her hand a few seconds later after she scrunches up her face and pouts. My sweet babe…

Cultural pause/interlude

In Mexico, when kids or people in general do stuff like that, we say that “ya nos tomó la medida.” Literally it means that we’ve been measured. What’s implied, is that the person that “measured” us knows us well enough to know what to do to when they want to get away with something they normally couldn’t. For example, Belle File will pull my hair one second, then give me a (two) toothed grin the next so that I’ll forgive her quickly. Sometimes I can’t help but to laugh out loud when she does that. Can you believe her?! That nifty little bundle of cuteness…

Cultural pause ended. We will now resume and finalize the description of my hubby.

My amado and I would go to the movies two or three times a week when we were dating, now we go about once a week. (Yes, we watch a lot of movies, congrats on noticing). He’ll hold me when I get tense on suspenseful moments, he’ll gently wipe away my tears in the rare case that I cry. And when it’s over, he’ll laugh with me as I sing/holler in the car most of the way home, making comments on the funny faces he says I do.

I love that guy.

Anger Management 101

After a brief but explosive anger episode myself, I started thinking about how different people express their anger. And how that, in turn, affects the way others see you. Some instantly react in humiliating, frustrating you name it situations, and vent on the nearest unfortunate bystander if the real cause isn’t in the perimeter. These are considered hotheads and vary from mild indignation best case scenario, to very violent.

Hotheads aren’t usually bothered very much because everyone knows that the smallest thing can and will set them off, so people will mostly go out of their way to avoid their rage. However, the amount successful in this attempt is minimum and a hothead will continue to live up to its reputation until it consciously decides to change (unlikely) and woe is you if you catch them on a bad day or are the cause, or even messenger, of bad news.

Then there are the martyrs. They will swallow pill after pill of pain, frustration and anger as much as humanly possible. They believe that the world hates and/or completely misunderstands them, and either think themselves too insignificant to retaliate or even speak their minds, or think themselves too good for that. Also, sometimes they adopt these behavior lines to attract attention, compassion, to manipulate, to justify, and to be plain lazy and let others work because oh can’t you see what I’m going through? Beware these docile creatures, they are more than capable of defending themselves and can be driven completely over the edge when they explode, forgetting caution or measure or common sense. Long oppressed feelings can easily envelop these soft smiled individuals once past their breaking point, blind them, and that, my friend, is how some of the worst murders and evils happen.

By the way, did I mention that some people are very resentful and hotheads? Isn’t human nature beautiful?

Thankfully, things don’t have to be this way. There are also gents that are able to see more than the maddening situation in front of them, and see the devastating effect their giving loose rein on their anger can have on innocent and even non innocent people. See the cause of all the mischief and how little exploding will help them solve the problem. How much it can and will backfire. Don’t get me wrong, they won’t just stop abruptly and smile, that would be so not healthy. They’ll get steamed up alright, but they’ll also try to gain control of themselves before much damage is done. Sometimes lots of damage will be done, but the point I’m trying to get at is that they’re aware of the danger and working on it. These people are considered mature (at least in that aspect) or are getting there.

Moi? I’ve been the first two on and off, but I flatter myself established in the third kinds o’ people, though I still admit I exploded. (I was alone ok? And my faithful sidekick Belle Fille was asleep so there was cero audience and no one was hurt in any way) I’ll usually try and hold my tongue, but there are also times I am set off. I tend to rationalize unconsciously most of what I do, and that in itself has saved me a world of problems. But tread carefully if I can’t or don’t want to. I am scary people. A glimpse of an irrationalized me would instantly trash my organic and natural, not forced(roll your eyes if you must, I won't blame you) sweet tempered rep. and most of everything I’ve worked for.

And so, I will continue to cry myself through my anger episodes until I am rational enough to solve the freakin’ problem I probably caused (which sadly enough is 50 50 of its only existing in my head) , or rational/too darn tired enough to accept I can’t. Or stomach it and get a hernia or something, which I’ve also been known to do. And write about it when I’m done. Like now.

Except that my stomach still hurts.

Mr. Responsibility

I know I’ve been gone for a while, but let me share something I’ve learnt recently. As a woman. As a wife. As a mom.

I’ve got a truckload of responsibility.

Thankfully, I’ve got a truckload of potential as well, but that’s not enough. Hold on though, my head isn’t as blown up as you’re thinking right now. We all have a truckload of potential behind us. Male, female, child or adult. However, it doesn’t matter as much as you’d think. Why? Because potential isn’t something solid you can use. It’s what you can do, what you can be. Truth be told, it’s totally and completely useless.

I did say I was thankful for that useless bunch of crap, so don’t get me wrong. It’ll always come in handy. Its right there, ready to explode and be used in incredible, unique ways. The hard part is working your but off to be able to use it.

That said, allow me to return to my original statement. See, Responsibility is actually the last name of a person named Privilege. Middle name, Joy. You can’t have one without the others because they’re all one person, and to know this person is to be whole. Now then, Mr. Responsibility (yes, I know Joy is a girl’s name, but work with me people, it’s a metaphor) isn’t very popular, but that’s because most people don’t know him very well. Most don’t even know his first name, much less his middle name! He is an amazing person once you do get to know him though. He’ll take you places you’d never imagined you could go. He’ll help/make you do things you didn’t even know you could do. He’ll give you such insights and wisdom that you’ll forever forget what boredom was, because all you’ll see is purpose, happiness and growth in everything you do and everywhere you go.

FYI, I just met him. In fact, I’m afraid we’re very slight acquaintances. Being dead honest, I’ve only seen him pass by a couple times, and he was miles away. He seems nice though, and very welcoming and ready, even eager, to help you. Maybe a little too eager, with all the responsibility you’re forced on as you grow older and hopefully, more mature. But believe me, it is very well worth it.

Home is my responsibility. My husband, my daughter. Privilege is being responsible of achieving harmony in my home, warmth and peace for my husband, loving protection and fun discovery for my daughter. Joy is every single second in between. This is my area of expertise, what I’m supposed to specialize in.

As for myself, I’ve still got a long, long way to go. The streak of feminism that marked my teenage years is gone, but it left a yearning of personal growth in its place, and a wish to help others grow as well.

And so, with this new paradox of life, and the goals I’ve set for myself I repeat, I’ve got a truckload of responsibility/privilege. A lifetime of joy. I am just so freakin’ blessed!!! I could tell you in hard numbers what all this is translated to in my life, and I might later on, but this is that, in its purest state.