Persuasive Writingworksheets

From decadent art of telling lies

now seems that literature and film have to be to Oliver Stone, and the Truman Capote: attached to reality. Imagine, invent, no longer are cool. Most people read or go to the movies and the first criticism, and sometimes the only thing, is how true is what you see on the screen. Since you can not even lie. This is over.

The biggest controversy in recent times has been the movie and the book The Da Vinci Code. The main scandal is based on the author decides to imagine that Maria Magdalena and Jesus are couples with children. The rarity of the case, is not the first author, nor the last, that you imagine. But if the most criticized, which, incidentally, gave a fortune with which you can sit and imagine any bullshit you can think and write in peace from the comfort of your home, which I guess already made from before , but hey, I get the idea.

These last two days I've been also reading a review, for example, The Curious Incident of the Dog in , little novel that I liked, and in which the narrator is a 14-year Asperger syndrome. To begin the discussion or controversy began based on the false premise that the child was autistic. Someone wondered why it was common to write about gifted children with autism when in fact there are no gifted autistic children., For starters, I do not know whether or not there. And they want to tell you, neither is a fact that I lose sleep, a writer, I believe, can give literary license, you can invent or create characters with the features you want. The reader assumes, from the first page of a novel, which tells the writer is real within the world of fiction is the novel, need not expect or want that reality or truth that assigns the fictional world and installed in life real. Sometimes happens, sometimes not, and this is a strict decision of who writes. But it seems now give less power of invention, now the thing has to be in addition to credible, real, Poor Harry Potter, now go into a tailspin.

I just saw the movie Across that interested me, besides being Mexican, because it's a former University classmate, Gustavo Loza. The truth is that it is a movie that moved me, although in some respects, has a resolution too easy. But when he got home and read some reviews, I was surprised that some would accuse of too naive or unlikely, even superficial is how migration. It seems to me, after reading these opinions, then the thing was not understood. Three stories of children, with the vision of children. And children are naive, children know the world in its own way, and imagine what you do not know their way, and is perhaps why we seem naive to think that the "other side" is the other side of a pond and thought the child star of one of the stories. But ... why would a ten year old boy from a village in Michoacán, who lives in the countryside, have to know where is the other side? Why would a Cuban boy can not believe that Florida can get mounted on a wheel when other, as adults, have tried? The beauty of the film lies in its simplicity. And if it turns out that a white handler suddenly falls in love with a girl and helping her find her father, for what happens, what the traffickers can not have a heart? Or the author of the film can not imagine or wish you had it?

And, or two, especially in the two examples above, or the writer no longer is allowed to lie and lie, or do not know see the world through the eyes of children.

Help! My Dog Is Leaking Smelly Wee!

The change bag Amores Perros

I'm still not very convinced of change, but the house's Book promoting their blogs, and decided to move the backpack, semi loaded with books (I've had more left than that), or half-empty, as you want to see, Arena's book, the literary blogging community in this mega bookstore.

I'm not convinced because I do not know yet if you can get a lot of changes, like putting the clock in Pamplona and Juarez, literary quotes and add the books I'm reading and which I purchased last, as it I have the original, but little by little we will see such results. As soon notice that I'm moving partition by partition, so here is the link though, will find for now only the first text that was in the original bag. Only patience and ask them to visit it occasionally to see if I've added something new.

http://www.librodearena.com/elmorraldelamagga

Laser Sailboat Blueprint

address

HCE thousands of years, man has discovered an animal that had surprised him as an organizational system very similar to human societies. This animal, the wolf, could be very useful to man, both in how they live with the rest of wolves, as in his way of hunting, foraging, saving, and more. No one knows quite how, but this animal pups went to a tribe, and found that children adapted quickly. So these puppies grew along with the children of the tribe, and from there was born a hybrid society, a society in which the animal and the man were together and complemented each other. Over the years, it was discovered that besides being useful at home and with children, animals, and domesticated and even now with the name of dog that we know today, could also, through an intense training be useful and specialize in many other tasks. So the man subjected to this training and it helped, thanks to genetics, to develop more each skill that the dog showing, so the race came, the work of man and selection breeding of individuals that have better developed the skill. The first domestic dogs, therefore, had very specific jobs, whether for grazing, hunting or guardians of the tribe. But above all and from the beginning, the main activity of the dog was to accompany the man. Therefore it is said that man's best friend is the dog (upside down, not so much) since it has always accompanied faithfully. In his book

Observe your dog, Desmond Morris says, and perhaps rightly, that the contract signed by dogs and men many years ago, 99 percent of the time is broken by man. We all know that some dogs, apparently for no reason, attack the people. In the word "apparently" lies the mystery but the answer usually attack dogs always have some reason to do so, but we men, we are unable to discover what it is. Backwards, as I said, not so much. Sometimes dogs attack man, and is much more difficult to find a real reason.

I know people who do not like dogs. One which just happens to them. And everyone has their reasons, or not to do and I understand. Those who have no reason, according to the way I see it is those who abuse and assault. These people and I remain suspicious even in the deal to other people. I find it easy to imagine the person who hits, abuses or abandons a dog, those torturers of animals, bullying his family, skipping the traffic laws, and being cruel to their peers, even those who want. It is these people who do not understand. Because not everyone has to like a dog or a cat, but not like to leave it tied to a tree to die of hunger and I eat the bugs, there is a yawning chasm.

several days ago he wanted to write about it, first because I read the book by Desmond Morris, and then because I had the occurrence of me around the site of the Humane Society, the place where it came Bioy. There's horror stories of abuse and neglect of dogs and what continues to impress even more is the attitude of the dogs, always faithful and loving even with his tormentor. I read, for example, the story of a dog that its owner left it was going to live in France. The dog does not want to leave the house, still there, waiting for his master. Have tried to take him to a shelter, some people it takes to eat, but the dog does not eat, just wait. Or the history that happened in the past Easter holiday, in which a family returning from vacation crashed and died. The dog, who was in the car, waited for their masters, they never return. No one noticed He and the dog walked back to his house and sat back to wait. And it is that dogs are not only taught to those men, our ancestors, a useful form of organization within the meaning of hunting and getting food, but also a way to coexist with others on the basis of solidarity and affection. Wolves are known, for example, help females to feed the puppies, or their caregivers while the female goes in search of food. Whole herd, not just the father, takes charge of small members. These examples are much more human than some in which the protagonists are we men.

And as a person mistreat or torture or abandons an animal, I find it really suspicious about his dealings with humans, so sometimes I've caught being prejudiced to people to discover their humanity through their dealings with animals. One day I hopped in a taxi, I think the English Hospital in Ave National Army, to the Angeles del Pedregal. For some reason I had to go by taxi, a hurry to arrive, and though I usually get on site taxis and the driver noticing, this time without noticing I got a lot, and get on I discovered a man with a pint of offender I really cared. I even thought about telling my descent was before, and so take another taxi. Those who Mexico City know understand why so much distrust. The fact is that we were going down the highway, when at the height of constituents, the traffic had stopped. What was our surprise to discover the cause: in the fast lane, a kitten was scared stiff, unable to go forward or backward. The cars all they could do was get around it, but it was a matter of minutes that the cat died between the wheels of any less cautious or less sympathetic. So my taxi driver stopped in the middle peripheral put flashing lights, got out of the car, picked her up the kitten and began to stop traffic to cross the two lane and the lane missing lateral up to the sidewalk. There, he walked a few steps, until you see the cat does not recede back to the street and placed it gently on a planter. Returning, the man almost cried, said he could not let it die. The rest of the way we did the two to tears, as I told the story of her son, who was sick a long time, I think for a motorcycle accident in the hospital and next was another man with his son, also very serious. I think in the end the son of one of the two men no longer remember which one died, and I do not remember having to do this story with the cat, but had something to do, I say.

It took several days to decide to write all this, I already had planned, but yesterday came the news on television that perplexed us: in 2004, a veterinarian Aguiño, the town where we went on vacation, in Galicia, filmed a neighbor who beat him to a dog. It was claimed as evidence, the man was sentenced to pay a fine for animal abuse, because apparently that was not the only dog \u200b\u200bthat was abused. The scenes are terrible, the man beating the dog with a tube and the dog, a huge German shepherd, does not make any hint of defense or attack, just crying to the rain that falls on sticks. The veterinarian has become to sue this man, because now makes life impossible, he sprayed petrol her house and poisoned a dog. What is surprising in the case, and why the news came out yesterday is that the townspeople of Aguiño not only defends the ancien abuser, but also applauded him while the vet had to leave, escorted by the police for amount of boos and threats from neighbors. The old man says they are all lies, where we can all see in the video hitting the dog. After seeing that, it begins to fail to amaze me that there are people who burn the hills of Galicia. Are the same as hitting the dogs, or at least, are of the same ilk.

Katydids By Kathryn Beich

Fight Captain giant

about a year ago we expected this time. Over the past weeks, and were bombarded by advertising, interviews, articles and trailer that reminded us that soon we could see, at last, Captain Alatriste. Thanks to the enthusiasm that Perez Reverte himself put on the characterization of Viggo Mortensen as the captain, and photos, we knew that at least the protagonist does not disappoint us. The writer told that the only condition that put Diaz Yanes was that their beloved master were like us, the readers, and as he himself reading his adventures we imagined. Yañez Díaz not only kept his promise, but all players have exceeded expectations. The seventeenth century English as we assume it was: Dark, decadent, violent. An empire on the verge of collapse still spends his remaining strength to keep the domain and the power he wields in the world. The fight will last for two centuries until the end of 19 when Cuba is the last brick to fall.

rarely in Spain has put so much on the grill for a movie: an investment of 24 million euros, an illusion, a script that attempts to summarize a great saga of adventure, not just the recreation of an era but an entire worldview. The accounts appear leaving, for now, in the black. A million spectators have seen Alatriste in the first weekend, and as consideration Perez Reverte, he is satisfied with the results and the actors were crying when the lights of the cinema the night of his first screening.

Alatriste is one of my favorite characters, and the truth is that Viggo is the best captain who might have known. There are countless stories of the extraordinary efforts made by the actor for his performance. Castilla was kicked around looking for the ideal place where he may have born the captain, (information that novels do not reveal) are not only memorized the script, as is their job, but also the complete saga, almost made the Prado museum home, again and again studying the paintings of Velázquez. And the end result is that it humanized the captain. Diego Alatriste ("was not the best or the most pious, but it was a brave man," the phrase that begins the first novel and has been taken as the slogan of the film) is a bit more cynical about the novel. Gestures, Viggo deep blue eyes, her tears, her walk, her gestures, give a cockiness but also an awareness of always being a defeated man ("be with those boots are a sign of pride, or lack of money, captain? "asked the Count-Duke of Olivares," both things, His Excellency, "replied Diego.) Actually, I remembered the captain as a hero in the novel, when in reality it is a poor man immersed in his violent and bloody times to the head. A hit man for bad life, but a generous man, deeply loyal. And sometimes those details that I missed (or I 0lvidaron) in the novel, Viggo are impossible to forget, remember them with every step or every gesture. Not only is impeccable in its Viggo performance, but most of the performances are deeply moving: Juan Echanove as Quevedo, Eduard Fernandez and Sebastian, Eduardo Noriega as the Count of Guadalmedina (I confess I was surprised, not between my favorite actors) are the ones I liked. But Walter Malatesta also seems straight out of the novel and Javier Camara as the Conde Duque de Olivares is also impressive, and Ariadna Gil pride. Up to three sentences of Pilar Lopez de Ayala makes their tiny share a great contribution. And Unax Ugalde is my favorite young actor, so I was delighted when I knew it would Iñigo Balboa. The only I did not like, and it's not their fault, but the amendment that made his character was Alquézar Angelica, played by Elena Anaya. For starters, Angelica Alquézar was blond and blue eyes, and it is minor is a lesser evil. The Worse was the terrible evil, a demon disguised as an angel, a manipulative interested. It was intriguing and cool. And in the film was as a girl in love who is carried away by circumstances, by the opportunities presented, giving love almost an obligation to class otherwise. And that, to lie, it smacks off the subject. Because the novel was always good to imagine now that mischief was going to leave the evil Angélica the innocent Iñigo.

Another thing I liked, but we have already said much Carlos and me is that the film has a story around, but rather, out of the novels the "high lights" with a storyline that connects them. This is enough to Alatriste geeks like us who know the context and everything that happens before and after each adventure, but I think that a viewer who has not read any novels are left with a narrative void. Narrative is where I see the weakness and strong point is definitely plastic, visual, but the movie sometimes seems a succession of moving pictures by Velazquez: the same light, the same contrasts. It has a precious picture, a dark setting as the time, a stark reality and real life from that moment, but maybe for a "not started" that is not enough. We will have to ask.

Some pages to start:

http://www.alatristelapelicula.com/

http://www.capitanalatriste.com/

http://www.xlsemanal.com/ web / firma.php? id_edicion = 1327 & id_firma = 3030

http://www.xlsemanal.com/web/firma.php?id_edicion=1327&id_firma=929

http://www. xlsemanal.com / web / Article.php? id = 8900 & id_edicion = 1327

Iron On Embroidery Sheet Blank

looked like any other summer. Clean air, clear, wind up the volume of your lashes to passionate roar when night falls, the sun shining overhead. A fire out there and another that, like last year, like every year. The first few days looked like paradise, seafood and sleep, look at the window where you see the other side of the river, the harbor, gulls, small barges, the islets. Suddenly the sky began to darken, to become of that deep gray before the storm, it was four or five in the afternoon of the fourth day of vacation (we were able to eliminate the time factor of our concerns, we did not know that day or what time it was, and we do not care much). But rain coming through the open windows, accompanied by strong wind, it was ashes. The air grew thick, hard to digest and the sky, dark gray, became red. From the window were no longer islands, or horizons, or boats on, not seen practically nothing to more than fifty meters. The sun, red hot, gradually gave way to a moon which also offered its red rays, bruising and bleeding. It seemed that we saw from the window at the bleak landscape of Mars. That, by the front window, on the back, the scenery was even worse. A thick smoke, sometimes white, black, likewise, gave way to the flames behind the last houses to be reached to see. The fire was there, so close it seemed we could touch it. And that night was the first in which we realized that our paradise was transformed dramatically in hell.


Gradually, the news of the newspaper and on television, the front page was filled with fire information: 100, almost all out of control, said on Monday. On Tuesday morning, leaving home to do some shopping (going to the beach was ridiculous, without sun or air to breathe, the wind that fills you with ashes and you got the sand in the eyes), we had to round in two ways, the fire kept us from the passage. Through the window, we still without seeing almost nothing, and breathing was easier to do with all windows closed. But the worst was the ghost, as black as before animated forests of Galicia, as black as I was leaving, hectare for hectare, tree to tree, the steaming earth, the ghost that went from mouth to mouth Prestige. The Prestige on the ground. The misery, sadness, helplessness, and solidarity, the lack of resources and institutional incompetence was a replica of those dark days of the Prestige.

as four years ago, the Galician seemed to be struggling alone against a giant, now a dragon spewing flames gradually multiplied hands, hands of residents, vacationers, volunteers that in the absence of media and official solutions, bucket by bucket carrying aid to stop the fire from inside the home end. In some places, missed just three inches, not feet, for that to happen. How to understand what was happening? How to understand that in a land of poor people, hardworking, simple and friendly-fire response was always to be "intentional"? How is it that some people want as little to their own land, and wants as little to their own people who cause so much destruction?. In this week's fires were many causes to such barbarism: the Nord (north winds), the lack of rain, high temperatures, Mount neglected for years and years, but the truth is that the first cause was always a destructive hand lighting a bulb here and another there to surround towns and cities. The reasons ... can there be any reason to do that?

inland Galicia is then stained black. The highway looks like a dark tunnel. As we are moving away from the Ria de Arousa and Santiago, the hills turn green and the sky returns to blue. The sun shines overhead as we start the way back. We leave behind the sad hills and unanswered questions in the thick air of Galicia.

Robert Stanley Designer Ribbon

Closed for holidays

This time, change its bridges Maga favorites by a window overlooking the sea and the rain Paris in the breeze from the Atlantic and one step closer to their land. It feels strange to know that there where you're just looking at the sea that is the promised land, are Indian (or perhaps the island of Manhattan, not clear to me, I'm really bad at geography).

The fact is that if you seek to La Maga, lost not walk the streets, from entering the cafe, not be on the Pont des Arts overlooking the Seine. Be in a small fishing village called Aguiño in the magical land of Galicia.

finally seems

Hyatt G4 Replacement Light Shades

The wonder years

I will make implementing the project of putting music to my memories. He had time searching the Internet for a list of music from the eighties, by year, I had the big hits. Sounds easy, but believe it or not, I take a long time to get it. I was almost about to make for myself, but I finally found a page where you come 100 hits every year. Virtually everything I need comes. Now I have the task of listening, thanks to Amazon.com, fragments of songs, it will record only the ones I like or I remember things. In 1980 most of the songs I are unknown, but the list of 85, 86 and 87 have to burn almost complete. In emule (and stores) are compilations of hits from the eighties, but wanted it to be something very personal, that each song tell me something, take me any time or place or person specific. I'm about to end 1980. Of course, this is basically an English pop, then look for the songs of the eighties in English: Mecano, Timbiriche, Flans, Soda Stereo, etc.. etc. and then go with the songs of the nineties. I have lots of homework. And by the way, speaking of those wonderful years, I also recorded the music from the series The Wonder Years (which is music in the sixties) and the film Grease, which is probably the movie most times I've seen in my life. As my dad has seen Pretty Woman and Juan Omar, Snatch, among others (my brother is obsessed with a movie and see it 500 times. And I speak literally. 500. If not, how we manage to learn, he and I, phrases "The thousand loves, one of our favorite Pedro Infante?, for giving rewind the VHS). I continue with my task of bringing music to memory.

Riccar Vacuum Price Paid

Vocations

few days ago I thought about the relationship between vocation and profession. What we do for a living is usually not always what we wanted to do. The degree of satisfaction in this area has to do, I believe, with much or how little we get in our daily work, our vocation, our calling, our need. The closer we are, the better we perform, the better work and more satisfied we feel. I remember in Mexico to two newspaper vendors, one at the confluence of Philadelphia, Nebraska and Texas, in Naples and one in light of the shaft 7 with Cerro del Agua, which seemed to be very happy with their work. Always delivered the newspaper with a smile, with a commentary on the latest news with satisfaction of getting up at three o'clock to pick up the newspapers on the street Bucharest, or where necessary. I liked to watch them work. In general, be newsstand think it is a task that usually like who performs it. Instead, I know one person who make copies to put a good face. I have taken copies in many, many stationery, and nowhere I've found someone you feel satisfied and glad to make copies. Being

driver is now more complicated. Many taxi drivers I've met are happy with their work despite the risks usually. Some will even be excited about, but strangely, many taxi drivers came to be because the circumstances of his life were taken there, not by a decision based on a vocation. Many taxi drivers I know studied engineering, architectures, or are in their free time musicians, but none said small "I want to be a taxi driver."

heard on television that the inhabitants of the Fiji Islands or some other island in the Pacific were the happiest, while residents of large cities like New York or London, had the lowest values \u200b\u200bin the ranking of happiness. " I think this is because people in those beautiful islands do not need much more than what they have, and effort to get lower. I do not mean they do not work, but being a fisherman on a Pacific island to be heavy, but will have its dotted with pleasure, I think. Observe the clear waters as they change color as dawn is the dream and must overcome the reluctance of a morning's work. Cover both work and pleasure, of a slice. Instead, the inhabitants of large cities will increasingly need things to be happy, and besides increasing the working time and effort to get them, not always like what you have to do to have some level of life do you think will suit. This increases the degree of frustration. On the one hand, live with all the comforts and conveniences that are supposed technology and progress, on the other you will not ever get them a break and perhaps to other dreams parked towards the plasma television and he penthouse overlooking (what views? the other illuminated buildings, or the only piece of sky that can see?). All this, said with the "Born Slippy in the background. And one memorable monologue by Ewan McGregor in the film Trainspotting. No wonder the inhabitants of some desert island are happier than us, no wonder. even in Cuba still dance and smile despite rationing and the omnipotent Fidel.

Turning to the profession. About halfway through the race I realized I wanted to be (or rather do), or what best suits my profile. For this, I have to say, was very helpful my teacher, Pancho Rodriguez, who was engaged to look hesitant to swell ranks of his department, and found an incautious, I follow him power. So against all odds, that put me in the specialization of Film, I started with my backpack in Journalism. How happy I was during those college years. Around me, political assassinations, wars ever closer thanks to television, which broadcast live and direct, indigenous guerrillas. The glory days of Subcomandante Marcos. Intense moments that were analyzed by great journalists: Carlos Marin, Raymundo Rivapalacio. I wanted to be a journalist. But then, when I had to go to boring and long sessions of Congress or the Federal District Assembly, when he had to dive (we had no internet yet as now, although I came the press releases from agencies) in the newspapers for get information that my boss, Oscar Mario Beteta live across the street Horacio Private (home of Radio Formula), when I had to know the typical chacaleros reporters and alcoholics, when I met the underworld where he must move to remove the note, the tricks and the tricks, I was disappointed too quickly. And I did not give a second chance, partly because my personal circumstances did not allow it, partly because leaving those jobs in the media the way it was diverted to other places and could not find a way back, if I'm here, ten years later, not a journalist, but with the longing of wanting to be. And then the next day was shopping and heard a radio report that said the most respected professions and with greater appreciation among the people, were those of health services, doctors, nurses, etc. What about the less valued? journalism. So I regret for not being (not do) something that the other end, even value.

But then I asked Carlos if that mattered. So what that others appreciate your work or not. But that's another story.

Narutosakuraisaskeigrice

A new backpack for

Those who have read my other blog, know what I mean with the backpack Maga, the legendary backpack I bought in Coyoacán, or in the bazaar on Saturday, and accompanied me my college years, filled with books, mostly, but also movies, coffee and souvenirs. As you know, be the backpack Maga is not to be any bag or purse that I put to match the dress I wear, no, the bag has personality and is part of the whole of what is La Maga, not its clothing. So is "backpack." The first feature you should take is to be large enough so that you can fit one or more books, and comfortable enough to not tire me much load. Next, you have to hang on the shoulders, which means that the handles should be comprehensive. And you must be a very definite style, ie the style of Maga. My cousins \u200b\u200bRuiz and Rivera, and Gutiérrez Soto, for example, know very well what I mean. When you go to a store and see any shoes, clothing or add says "is yadira!". So if you have seen this new bag in a store, and thought me a present, had not the least bit hesitant to buy just this. So this is the new backpack. Within a few days I'll take a picture with him, to know him. For now leads in "Red Harvest" by Dashiell Hammett, likely will include "Zalacaín adventurer" Pio Baroja. As fit more, we must seize. So soon I will present my new backpack.

again

Horrorscope Vs Artifact

Maga And after the summer heat

Reading the stories of my childhood summers, now I see fun and entertaining, but the truth is that whenever I asked, to return to classes, to write a story about my vacation, Usually the invented. Deformation literary, I guess.

Blackout Fabric Screen Frame

When you heat made yesterday by the land, not comparable with that of Juarez, but not negligible, for reminding me my childhood.

It's funny how over the years to change the perception of everything. As a kid, summer was a paradise, now just thinking about a summer in hell I think Juárez. As a child, summers were long, very long, and full of fun stuff. Now the summers are shorter than you'd like, because although it makes a lot of heat, the truth is that I hope the arrival of summer for almost too long.

In June I remember as a month to go to school, the sun came fully out the window of my living room. For afternoon, I went into the garden to do the task, and was watching the shadow lengthened as time passed. Fruit trees matured mom, and our crops were fun and plentiful, with the exception of the apple, which was little. Shortly before the holidays in full finals, was the day of San Juan. Bonfires Here, there wars did water balloons.

During the summer, my cousins \u200b\u200bVeronica and Christina visited me, sometimes they were part of the summer at home. We went skating, did before there was karaoke, recording our songs in a cassette and danced lyrics Timbiriche or Parcheesi, or of Let's Play Song.

Martlub

Then there was the club. There were karts and skating, and a large pool where I especially liked being alone, in the morning, before the arrival of all other children. One of my swimming teacher, Mark, years later starred with his family, one of the saddest tragedies (not including the drug) I know. I never learned to swim well, or at least never completely removed my fear, but at that time I got to throw myself off the highest diving board more than once. In addition, some long ago when the pool (pool, pa those here) was empty. Had a red swimsuit, coca-cola. But the best was when my cousin Rodrigo came to spend the summer with me. We could be playing in the water until it closed, when the pool lights were on. Although it was not bad when it was I who went to see my cousin, Disneyland is always a great temptation. I remember the first half hour means we look, self-conscious, as if we met, from the next half hour, we were laughing and playing as usual, as if nothing had happened a year or two, or sometimes three no see. My cousin Rodrigo. Someday I will speak more of it.

Then there were the macro party birthday My brother, who turns 14 in July. Border Tobacco We went to a shop that sold all sorts of things for parties, hats, streamers, napkins, decorations, plates, glasses, and barrels of candy, to buy a kilo. We spent all afternoon making the bags of candy. The parties were in the garden and were subject, according to current interests of Juan Omar: A-Team, Dukes of Hazard, Ninja Turtles or He-Man.

August also was fun, was the month of purchases. New notebooks, new clothes, new uniform, new shoes and socks, all to return to class. I'm still buying in August Composition notebooks, hard cover, black and white. Still I still buy books, in general, I have library books, the most beautiful I do not use, I keep them as is. My cousins, my aunt's children Stella, gave me a little envious because they bought clothes for school, I had to go in uniform, and the clothes I bought was for use when leaving the school, and I always seemed much less than the amount they bought them.

But I have also memories of other summers, earlier, when we lived in Saltillo and went by bike to play with Mario, my neighbor, and my mom gave me the afternoon ice cream and fresh fruit, melon, watermelon, I do not know for what reason I remember much of the fruit and ice cream. And the paddles Kiki, who sold the parents of my friend Marcela, or ice cream fountain.

Now we are starting to plan what to do in the summer, when we realize that it's over.

Females Masterbatting

Deception

happened exactly the opposite of what I expected. And not only me but thousands, perhaps millions of people. Football is what it is for its ability to excite, to dream, to excite and entertain. All that, apart from big business, the show, the spectacle.

expected a magic night, a 98, a night outside Paris the center of the world and Zizou, adding a new god Maradona, Pele and they wrote all those great football history. And it was, yes, but in the most disappointing and sad that a player of his stature, and personality can go. Zidane, the strong, the leader, which makes the personality, intelligence, serenity, that off the court does not engage in frivolous, the bonus game. A legend built for years and collapsing at the last minute, a minute disgraceful. I have seen many players, fighting, spitting in the face, getting traffic tickets that take the contrary, (not just in the game, but for ever), because football unleashes passions to start, among the players themselves, and overflows. But perhaps the fact that both expect the final minutes of Zidane on the pitch meant that the scene was even more humiliating, more disappointing, more sad.

Anyway. Zidane was the worst way. The World Cup, again, over, and this time with great disappointment: We did not see Messi as the new Maradona (although he still has to get ahead world. We did not see Ronaldinho shine as bright in the Champion'sy in the league. We saw in Spain and Mexico go a bit beyond the usual. We did not see Zidane go as it always was, a legend, one of the best players of all time a great man.

Herpes Lesion Versus Genital Wart

the other side of the barrier

In sanfermines, there are two types of people: having fun, and working for others is fun. In my fifth sanfermines, I had to side with those who work, so this time, bulls touch me from the very center of the square, so now if I understand it is not the same view from the sidelines.

never more enthusiastically sing "Poor me" on 14 July. But I also realize that despite the tiredness, my awakening is unlike anything you have if you are having fun, should have some advantage.

Carlos said that the Next year we will have another party. But I think the sanfermines can wait another year. Just imagine me comfort, next July 7, lying on a towel sunbathing on a beach, far from the Plaza del Castillo and the old.

Colours Of Confident Dental Chair

The Color of Summer Dew

At the request of my most faithful readers, I return this summer writing, since I have more time.

Summer shows in these lands of Navarre more for color than by temperature. Although Navarre complain about how hot it is, the fact is that a few days we climbed to over 35 thermometers, and storms Summer relieve hot flashes (although they sometimes emphasize) and encourage mosquito bites. Fields left the dark green of spring to paint all shades of yellow: the pale barley harvest is about just to the input of summer in late June and mature wheat while sunflowers bloom. The balconies and windows, as every year, begin to be colored white and red, just a few hours of onset of the festival. In villages, smaller replicas of the great feast the foregoing, the terraces are filled, and the daylight saving time for most offices can spend time shopping, taking advantage of rebates. This year, Caritas lottery (another element Pamplona typical of summer) I have not given anything (a lot of kitchen furniture "" win a trip to India "" win a bike, "" meet several tickets to choose gift "and" a bottle of wine " I have not even collected, is all I got. Each year I have worse luck.

For those who do not know, is I'm working on a spit from a nearby village, in Belz. Sometimes the scenes are surreal: a night of rain, the landscape of Navarre, the crickets and the silence of the countryside ... walk in the door of the grill and you get ... Los Tigres del Norte. My boss, Harvey, is a fan of the calendar, or at less said that the villagers are generally defined and therefore puts. I think my mother will love anything that BBQ ... For now, managed to change the calendar, by Belanova and Julieta Venegas, if they wanted to listen to Mexican music. But let no one doubt that is heard around dawn Jose Alfredo. And do not put me.

August will be in Galicia, and if I have luck to return, but most likely the work I forbid, will mark the other rites summer: beach Sunday and Saturday from medieval markets.

As for television, the World Cup ends in the Tour de France, apart from the scandal, little interest in, and Fernando Alonso and boring winning all the prizes. My Favourite series season ends in August (House, Desperate Housewives, Lost), so there will be a great comfort to see television.

Summer Songs: OPA, I viazé a pen, Koala, and Limon y Sal, Julieta, are scrambling to get the first place, still listening Guapa La Oreja de Van Gogh and Slippers, del Canto del Loco .

In film, Cars, and I look forward with excitement to Jack Sparrow. Captain Alatriste come until September, so I'm content with the Pirates of the Caribbean, some of you could see or not to your liking.

Readings: finish the trilogy Basque "Green Valley, Red Hills" Bioy something, something Dashiel Hammett and I have several unread books out there but I think it is not summer reading (Male Slow Coeetzee and Intermittency of Death, Saramago, among al.) I think the more appropriate it is to return to Cortázar, cronopial think the world is very likely to be summer reading.

So the summer painting in the lands of the kingdom. Suggestions welcome.

Aluminum Boat Side Consoles

Two memes and fads

On Saturday afternoon, saw the news coverage back to Spain Rocío Jurado. Media coverage which was followed by Houston, and everywhere, from that his illness was known, or rather, since she, in a press conference, clearly admitted that the disease already was rumored. While watching the news, which was in all channels and programs not only in the "pink", but within the general information news, pregutnaba me why so much press was given a Rocío Jurado, if, for example, Rocío Dúrcal was for many years suffering the same disease. I can not assess here because I do not know, what has meant the path of both artists in Spain, nor say if one will be better than the other, because their careers have been different. But Rocio Jurado gave the medal of merit to work day yesterday, and Rocío Durcal spoken from time to time.

As I am half witch, 24 hours, Rocio Durcal out again in the news: unfortunately, death. It broke the news and a profile that resumión as fifty-year career in a few seconds, then turn to see what was new in the case of Johnston.

My feelings are mixed, but whatever my feelings, I always have to reflect on the power of the media. Create and destroy clay gods. Many decades ago, Mclahan said the medium is the message. I now believe we have to say: the media creates the message. Depends on the number of reflectors that are around, the news will be more or less important. And now, most news is about people dying. Do not forget that only recently saw the Pope almost died, "live and live" (Carlos and laughter gave him "dying live", the phrase is funny, the fact is dramatic, according to me).

My thoughts do not have to see what I like more Rocío Dúrcal the jury (which is also true, as to forget their teen movies! I loved, along with Marisol and Pili and Mili) Just are two artistic paths had now same path of the disease. But a lot of minutes are given in many programs, the other is barely mentioned. As news of the face Osasuna Real Madrid, I apologize for example.

Ontario, Ca. Glory Holes

But I do not know what a meme. Alfredo, from your blog, send me one and so I understood, is like a chain, that is that I now I have to make a list of my personal hobbies, that is what will this meme in particular. Alfredo, right? just in case, get 5 hobbies, but I think will fall short:

1. Make lists. I make lists of everything: what I like, what is not, movies I want to see those which saw, of which I saw in the cinema and I saw on TV or on DVD, books I read, that I want to buy, what I do; what do I need .... everything. Lists are my thing.

2. I have the habit of thinking I always leave the iron on. Sometimes it is to leave something to the fire when I leave and I have come back to see if I turned it off, but overall it is the iron. And I do not stay quiet until I return to see if the turn off and unplug the cable.

3. Read magazines and newspapers back and forth. I have no particular reason. A friend told me he did it because the culture section and the bill often at the end. These are also the sections that I like, but not why. But if I had a reason, not be a hobby.

4. Remove the price tag to books. Sometimes when I remember where I bought it and how, remove the label on the back, where they spend time, and bring it inside, where bears my name and date of purchase.

5. The fifth'll ask Carlos, he leads the list of my hobbies.

Who will pass the meme?
Alex, I think these things do not like, do not know, but you're the only one that I have your blog ... Rain

I'm In Love With My Babysitter

Keeps on raining (Billie Holliday)

yesterday. like a summer rain in Mexico City. As a night in Paris in Rayuela. A hundred and one days and nights in Macondo. As a long day in Santiago de Compostela.

For those addicted to Hopscotch, rain always brings back memories of something we have not lived, but we've recreated again and again. We carried, for example, a night of any year in the fifties. We are in Paris and the Serpent Club meets at the home of Babs and Ronald, a loft that smells of vodka and blues Arato, dimly lit by candlelight. Rain, since I read Hopscotch, always seems to be accompanied by the rhythm of jazz, the decaying stage for magical transformations notes A guitar, a trumpet, a saxophone.

The rain also reminds me that first time, having nothing more to do ("in the rain", Horacio and La Maga was for a hotel, a sad hotel bedspreads yellow walls with old carpet, curtains faded, theatrical gestures and fearful. And how to forget the umbrella of Maga, who found that old and broken down and used more to sink into the ribs of the people on the subway and the bus that shelter, which attempted a rainy afternoon and "all hell broke his hand in a disaster of black clouds, lightning and cold, shreds of cloth torn down between disjointed flashes of rods that ..."; umbrella which ended in a ravine in the park, and is reborn from time to time, in other hands, in other parks, and also loses its leaves in the wind.

also remember that afternoon when, having nothing else to do, evening the rain came and went undecided, Oliveira enters the concert piano of Berthe Trepat. I like to reread constanteme Rayuela, leaping into the sky boxes, disrupting roads, inventing new, following the instructions and other times completely ignored. But mostly I like to reread it when it rains, when jazz hurts more and more recalls with nostalgia vodka (although I never took vodka), when the evening is more like an afternoon in a Parisian garret listening to old records. (And more pain and nostalgia because today the 11-M, remember Atocha is one of those days that can not be avoided, the pain can not be forgotten, as the 19-S 85, as 11 S, 2001 as today.)

Mexico is a city that causes much read Rayuela. In the words of Carlos Fuentes in The Years with Laura Diaz, in Mexico there are no seasons, but there are two seasons: rainy season, dry season. So we have six months to jump from square to square. Here, last year there was little rain, but it seems you want to recover these days, overflowing the river Arga, the Bidasoa and the Ebro, and putting the environment to sit and have once again a meeting with Julio on the board of directions, to see if we can agree on where to go this time.

Prom Grecian Hairstyle

On politics (I understand if you do not want to read it)