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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.