Didn't want to go there but...

I've been avoiding the blatant political entries because, well, it might ruffle some feathers. But we're in the midst of an election and politics are all around us.

We've been watching the endless commercials, debates, commentaries from one side or the other and I've got say that I can't see much depth anywhere.
We live in a bipartisan society. As much as some people might say that there are numerous other existing parties, there are only two that seem to be present, or that actually have any saying in what goes. Do I see much difference between them? not really. I prefer one over the other, but really, it's like choosing the lesser of two evils.

The reason I say that is because I find that there aren't any "real" issues being debated. Yes, we hear about gay marriage, and abortion, and the war, and terrorism - and I'm not saying they are not important-; but what about poverty, and lack of health coverage, and the fact that there is a very small, tiny percentage of wealthy people getting wealthier every year at the same time that poverty is increasing? Listen to this: minimum wage has not been raised since 1997! oh, but cost-of-living has not kept stagnant, that I can tell you...
The middle class is being crushed out of existence little by little. Either you are one of the very, very few that are lucky, or you fall into what some western societies consider border-line poor.
Wasn't it almost always the middle classes that led revolutions or major political movements? hmmm...

Carter was criticized (and lost a second term because of it I'm sure) because he decided to first take care of his own dirty laundry before sticking his nose too deep into other people's business.
Well his people needed the attention, and still do, and nothing is really done to address it.
Some people might say that those that voted for the current government are dumb or illiterate or anything you wish. I think that they were touched to the core of their needs, were told what they needed to hear. Were they empty or hypocritical promises? Maybe, but if people went for them, shouldn't we look into why?

Setting people aside and not paying attention to them because they do not have diplomas or seem ignorant to your eyes is a stupid approach. All humans have basic necessities, whether they are food, health, a sense of security (and no, I'm not talking about borders and wars, I'm talking about a personal sense of worth), or faith (yes, although I do not share those beliefs I am aware that they exist and are important aspects of people's lives).
But yet, we are not talking about education, we are not talking about preventive health care, about fairness or any issues that, in the long run, can make this society if not Utopia, at least fair.

We keep seeing that power corrupts, one side or the other, and so what is left? How can we trust representatives that promise us what we need but that once in power only think about what they can have?
We are a political generation - encompassing different ages- without leaders, without models, without examples we want to follow and fully back. Do we have to take baby steps? I believe so. We don't have revolutions or major political movements in our forecast, we are too busy trying to make it day-to-day.
And so baby steps have to be taken, and hope that those steps will eventually lead to a full blown change for future generations, so that they don't have to live in the uncertainty we all live with.
How's that for ruffling feathers...

Never too late to say I'm sorry

I'm too critical, or judgemental some would say, and I admit it: I was quick to have an opinion and I was wrong. Yes, I said it... wrong.
I am referring to my class, remember? As the semester has progressed (granted it's only been what, 3 weeks since that entry?) I now see where the professor is taking us. The readings he put together at first made absolutely no sense, they seemed like a list he made while eating dinner over his kitchen sink; A last minute thought for a class he did not want to teach.
And I wasn't the only one feeling let down by what seemed like a half-ass lecture, more than one of my peers shared my thoughts. But now, we have seen the light, a bit dim and we're not quite at the end of the tunnel, but it's there, like a flickering candle letting us perceive what other mysteries surround us.
The man is actually a genius. I think that I've learned in these past weeks what I never thought would have been possible.
He is nonchalant, not pushy, doesn't expect anything from us, in other words he treats us like adults and not like students... what a breakthrough! I still have the nagging feeling that he's not quite happy with teaching on Saturdays though, but who am I to say.

And so I retract anything I've said about "give me theories and I'll apply them as I see them applicable to the 'real' world". What a bunch of crock, how presumptuous of me.
I've been humbled and have learned my lesson: from now on I'll wait until the end of a semester to criticize ;)

P.S. He's the one that inspired me to buy Emile and The Republic... I've should have known better...

Civic duty?

I registered back in August to serve at the voting polls during the elections. The thought behind it was 1) I wanted to know how it worked, 2) my knowledge of Spanish could be useful 3) well... I actually find the whole process of "electing" interesting, and after living in this country for 21 years I might as well get involved in it one way or another, right?
I cannot vote in the US since I am a resident and not a citizen. How can I be in the polls you ask? as a translator. It is the only position where citizenship is not necessary.
I signed up because I read in the newspaper back then that Spanish speakers were needed, so being the good Samaritan that I am, I answered the call.

I spent a Saturday being "trained". Now, I put it in quotes because I'm still not sure what's going on. Yeah, we listened to a guy explain the whole thing, we were given material and took an open-book exam at the end... could I vote or know how it's done? nope. I will say though that it was the firs time that I got to see the voting machine up-close. That thing is intimidating! There are buttons to push, levers to pull. Seriously, you feel like a technician in front of it. How the hell do people do it so as to not get overwhelmed?

The first elections came and went and I received no notice, so I figured that either I hadn't passed the exam (for-crying-out-loud) or they didn't need a translator (I stuck to that explanation). Those were for the primaries, when each party chooses their representatives... I guess I did learn something... Today I come home and am welcomed by a card stating in big bold letters: NOTICE TO WORK.
So, I have been called to duty, sort of speak. I am to present myself, —right next to the house, phew!— at 5:30 AM and stay put until 9:00 PM, to do what? not sure as of yet, but I get to observe the process of elections from first row.

I've already participated in such a thing: One year, during the French presidential elections, I served as a vote counter. We had to tally the votes that were going to each party the good ol' fashion way, with pen and paper . That was exciting and so I can't wait to be able to compare. I'm not necessarily speaking of the actual deed of voting, no, I'm talking about the people that go and vote. The attitudes of the voters, how they perceive voting, how the teams observing and working the polls are.
It can only be, besides exhausting due to the hours, a learning experience.

I'm sure I'll post something about it, regardless of the results. And so come November I'll be doing my civic duty, but is it a duty even if you're not a citizen? I think so. If you are part of a society in whichever way, you should, at least once, be part of the process. That way you'll be able to really know what you're talking about when you criticize, praise, blame or compliment.

AGH!

ok, this is driving me crazy. Although I'm very happy about this "no ads" site, getting it together is proving harder than I thought.
So maybe it's the "the little creepers" that are up and running, but seriously, things should be a lot easier. I can't get the damn picture where I want it, I can't post the way I damnwant it. It takes aaaaaaages for things to come up.
I am most definitely considering paying for being able to write what I want, when I want it to be written...
Agh!!!
Any suggestions?

All grown up

"A house without books is a home without soul". I don't know who said that, or if anyone actually did, but I find it one of those absolutes that are so true.

I've always been surrounded by books. Bookshelves were the main entity wherever I lived. What was in them varied: my mother had various interests and so her library reflected that, then when I started living alone it mainly comprised of Spanish books, or anything relating to Spanish literature.
Now? Now I feel all grown-up. I'm starting to create a library that is more than reference books, more than dictionaries and encyclopedias, more than paperbacks of Spanish must-knows and Agatha Christies. I started buying books (yes buying and not picking up other's left overs) that I can't wait to attack. Books that vary in periods and ideologies but all for a definite goal: learn.
My recent purchases: Plato's Republic, Rousseau's Emile, Feire's Pedagogy of the Oppressed (thanks Malichan) and Pedagogy of Freedom, and my mentor's Kaleidoscope, a Multicultural Approach for the Primary School Classroom, by Yvonne De Gaetano.
Throughout the summer I read great novels and mysteries, now I'm going for theorists, new and old.

I guess there is such thing as reading maturity. Age influences how you read and what you read. Don't get me wrong, I still go for comics and good ol' fashion mysteries. But I've noticed that a book that is poorly written does not keep my interest.
Is it becoming picky? Or is it that I've read so many bad thing (I confess, I read Barbara Cartland when I was young) that now I'm starting to search for something better?

I will never dream of saying that I'm a good judge of the written world, but it's like wine you know? You either like it or you don't, and little by little you learn to appreciate what you like in it, which doesn't mean that you are a sommelier.

Surfing, blogging and what-nots

The blogging world has opened up a whole new universe of information (or misinformation) as well as just plain funny nonsense for me. As you go through the links of others people's blogs you might discover things that you wouldn't have otherwise.

I came accross such funny nonsense while looking at someone else's page, and although I had already heard of it, I completly forgot how funny it was. Now granted, often it is sad, but unless you plan to spend the rest of your life crying over other people's stupidity, I recommend that you laugh it off and thank your lucky stars that at least you have no one in your immediate surroundings that sounds like that, hopefully.

The site in question is "Overheard in NY". It's postings people put up about things they've overheard either on the street, subway or shops. Many are hilarious, hopefully they won't make you feel like walking around with a club and whacking people over their head. Just laugh it up people, that is the best way to survive.

A couple of examples:

Health Food Fads: 1, Basic Safety: 0

Lady #1: This stuff is really good. It has antidotes in it. It's good for your skin.
Lady #2: You mean ANTIOXIDANTS. An ANTIDOTE is a short story.

--At Barnes & Noble

And You Say the States Aren't All Different Colors?

Blonde: So you mean Alaska's not an island right above Hawaii?
Brunette: How did you graduate college, again?
Blonde: Well, I wasn't a geography major. Gosh!

--At 96th & Madison

And these are real people, not comedians... I think I do need a club...

1 down 2 to go

Today I took the first exam of my Childhood Development class. Ok, so call me a geek, or nerd or anything you'd like, but a 10 multiple-answers test does not call out "grad-school". Especially if the answers are so obvious that, unless you do not even know the title of the course, you can figure them out.
I expected some heavy-duty theory, or name-throwing going on, but no. It took longer to wait for the train, seriously, than to complete the test. Like Nadir said: "more than $800 for that?". Ok, so not everything should be quantified by money spent; I'll give the professor the benefit of the doubt, maybe his idea of teaching is making you want to actually learn on your own.
And yet there's that whole concept of having someone childless teach me about children's development... I don't know, it sort of looses it's credibility, specially if the professor states as a matter of fact that children are a pain in the ass (he did, just like that), but doesn't have a first hand experience of how much of a pain they can be. Plus, how insightful is it to make such a statement? And is this someone who is training teachers to-be?!
I am thankful to be taking this class now and not when I was more naive. I can take what the professors tell me with a grain of salt and filter the information - Give me theories and I'll apply them as I see them applicable to the "real" world-.

That whole concept of professors being larger than life and godlike figures is no longer in me. They are human beings that have a profession and know more than I do about their specialty, not necessarily about life.

It is somewhat sad though to loose that naivete, we end up having fewer role-models and become a lot more picky about who they are. Maturity comes with age, but so does skepticism. Hopefully being open-minded is also a byproduct of the process...

So?

How do you like the new home? not too shabby if I may say so myself...

One thing or another

Since the summer is gone and soon the drop of temperature will once again be perceived by yours truly as a very personal confrontation, I decided that it was time to hit the garden and harvest all the herbs that were planted. Branches from the thyme, lemon thyme, sage, rosemary (ahhh), tarragon and oregano were trimmed down and brought to the house.
Not knowing exactly what to do with the tons that I cut I gave some away, put some in ice tray cubes for future use, and intend on making some kind of pastes, although I'm not sure how to, so if you have any ideas shoot them this way.
Anyway, as I was cleaning them I became intoxicated by the smells, and of course right at that moment of olfactory nirvana I remembered that I have a test this coming Saturday... talk about a let down.
The class mainly concentrates on psychology and all that comes with it. Don't get me wrong, I respect all sciences, but sometimes psychologists seem like, well, they want to make too much out of things. If a diaper is too tight, is it really that the parent is showing some kind of repressed frustration? how about it's the first time they changed a diaper and had no idea how to do it. Trying to find too many hidden meanings can sometimes be a bit much, at least to my eyes. We (and I include myself) end up wondering why that kid in the subway was picking his nose: he's lacking something? he saw it at home? not enough structure has been imparted? maybe he just has a big snot that is bugging the hell out of him!
There are many instances where some behaviors are reflecting something deeper, but we should admit that sometimes it's just what it seems... wasn't it Freud that said "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar"?
The smells are wearing down, the hype of herb-picking wearing thin, I'm off to my notes and readings to try and make some sense of this class... and not read anything into it.

Friendship

Reading Medusa's blog brought up some thoughts that I've been having over the question of what a friend is.

As time passes the concept of friendship starts to evolve and metamorphose into a more precise and concise meaning. When you are a child, a friend is someone that you've met 5 minutes ago in the playground and whom you''ll spend a whole of 30 minutes playing with. And even though you might not see him or her again, right at that moment he or she is your bestest friend.
Later on, your best friend is one you can share stories with, complain about your parents, teachers and anyone who represents the adults that cannot understand you. A person that, like you, is going through the hardships and denials of becoming that adult. As a teenager, friends are the most important people in your life: They make you or brake you, which incidentally can happen from one day to the next. In college, on the other hand, a friend is one that shares your interests and your way of life. And so on.

As you take on responsibilities you become more selective. You realize that being a friend implies subtle things. It's not a person that you hang out with, or a person that depends on you. It's a person that you know is there when you need them and you are ready to drop anything you are doing when they need you. It's a person that knows your fears and pleasures, but not necessarily your everyday problems. A friend for me is someone that knows who I am, that can feel when something is not right without me having to draw a map, and vice versa. True friends should and must respect each other, in the true sense of the word.

Throughout life we come across acquaintances,buddies, pals. But real friends are counted on the fingers of one hand, and those, are for life.

Left-overs

When there are limited edible things in your refrigerator and you don't want to go out shopping, your imagination feels free to reign and explore. Often extremely happy accidents occur, if the mind-frame is right, others it's an utter disaster.
Today the stars and the planets seem to be with me. I had a minuscule piece of pork loin left that was pasted in mexican achiote, and so the sauce was to be kept. I had an eggplant looking a little lonely, prosciutto, goat cheese, and decided to make a meal with it all.
The eggplant peeled and sliced was breaded and baked. And as I searched in the pantry I came across pancake mix... oh the imagination...it took over. I mixed the pancake mix with some herbes de provence, garlic powder and the said pork loin sauce so as to make it quite watery. The thought behind being that I didn't quite want thick, breakfast pancakes, but more of a crepe consistency.
The "crepes" are being filed with goat cheese and prosciutto, accompanied by the baked eggplant and sliced tomatoes... I guess letting your imagination take over isn't bad sometimes. Just don't do it when you are having people over, you never know what your luck-of-the-draw might be.

Changes

After a week of nothing special, comes a weekend that looks like nothing special as well. I've started classes and I'm taking them on Saturdays so that they do not interfere with work, it's a choice. Apparently the professor was told only a few days before classes started that he would be teaching it (that's Hunter for you) and so was not available today. Next weekend I'll miss class because I'll be in Spain, and the week after it's veteran's day weekend, meaning I won't being going to school until my birthday, how appropriate.
The course seems interesting enough: Child Development, encompassing psychological, biological and learning theories that, knowing me, will have my mind reeling as to the whys of whats. The professor was kind enough to e-mail us all the readings we will be doing for the semester. I don't know if it serves the purpose of making us save money or to try and convince us to drop the course. There are loads and loads of reading to do. I'm going to be up to my elbows in Freud, Piaget, and the likes. Hopefully my rantings will not become psychobabble and make you all run for cover. I do enough two-cents analysis as it is.
The trip to Spain. My grandma is not doing too well and so I'm going to see her and lend a supporting shoulder to my mom. The strangest thing is to go unto the unknown. It's not like taking a vacation, or going for a specific purpose. It's just going to be there, and I've never done that before. It will most likely be the last time I go to Spain and so it gives it a different kind of feeling.
As children (here we go, and it has just been a class!) we tend to see everything as permanent, as going on forever. Your grandparents' home will always be there, there is no reason for you to think that it might not; the trees will grow and you'll remember how tiny they were, but will always see them, no reason to think that maybe they'll become someone else's trees one day.
We have no problem thinking of ourselves as mobile, ever-changing beings, but those that represent our childhood stability are incapable, to our eyes, of doing it.
It was strange enough that my grandparents moved from the north of the country to the south, the change of scenery was welcomed but awkward at first. We all have memories of that first (for us the grandchildren) apartment we spent our summers in. The fact that when my grandmother goes there will be nothing to attach us to the country is even weirder. I, for one, feel closer to Spain than I do with France, and so it will become like being a stranger in my childhood's land.
Sort of like Mexico. After 12 years of living there I could not go back (and haven't since 1986). Nothing worse than feeling like a tourist in your own home.
It's funny how ready we are to embrace the future but have problems letting go of silly things of the past. It's a balance that should, when done properly, make us whole, but when confronted with it can become a fearful moment to conquer.

Luca

We have a neighbor named Luca. Well he's not really our neighbor, he's our neighbors' son. One month old son to be exact.

Luca is the newest addition to this what I call, the community. You know, the one we live in, the building with the strangest group of people I know. Well Luca, as a good son of his parents, does not represent part of that "strangeness". He is the cutest little shrimp I've met.

I've mentioned to Tosh and Anna (the parents for those who want to know) that I needed my Luca-fix from time to time, and they've obliged. Luca came to visit us tonight (granted in his father's arms, and most likely not from his own volition) and showed us that he is starting to learn how to smile. It was more of a smirk, with his little pout not quite knowing where to go, but it looked to the adults around him like he was making fun of us.

The best part of holding that little body in your arms is imagining what he's thinking of. I'm sure that somewhere in that little head there's a: "what are these awkward, H-U-G-E people talking about?" (and I'm being polite here, because I'm sure that he doesn't know bad words yet... I think...)

He's going to be a smart one, I can already see that, and I wish him to continue using his little pout to poke fun at the world. Even if he doesn't, he'll always hold a dear place in my heart.

September

It's the beginning of September. For many of you it just means that you're back at school, or that summer is over, or even yet that the holidays are coming (which some of you actually look forward to). For me September is the dreaded month for all of the above given reasons, and because it means the imminent approach of my birthday...

Apparently it might be a genetic thing. I share the same anxiety my great-aunt did about turning one year older, although not to the same extreme. The woman used to close the curtains, lie in bed and cry for the whole day, we could not even call her to wish her a happy birthday less we wanted to be perceived as evil people.

And so I've told myself numerous times about the whole "getting older-getting better" thing, but no, I still don't buy it. So OK, it's nature and it's all in your head, blah blah blah, well my head is still young, it's the damn years that won't stay with it! I mean the body looks different — and don't try to fool me, it doesn't look better—. It also feels different: you have the same aches and pains that your mother had (and you made fun of), wrinkles you thought you were impermeable to, the hair changes, the eyesight changes, your memory is not the same... seriously, where is the "better" in that? So you're wiser, well you better be! if you don't learn anything from time, what the hell will you learn from?

Nadir, for the past decade, braces himself when my birthday nears. His sweet, non-confrontational wife (or girlfriend at the time) goes from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde. I have no patience, everything is an affront to my well being. Even my dog died in September, Fine,eons ago, but I still remember it because it was... well, in September.

So, like I said, I hate this month. I wake up in a bad mood and go to bed in a bad mood. It's like going through PMS for 30 straight days.
Feel sorry for my poor husband, I'm going to turn 39 and this pressure cooker is about to pop (not really, but I also have a tendency to become over-dramatic).

Luxury

I decided to make rosemary chicken today. No big deal, it's a common dish. The worthiness of me mentioning it is how I got the main condiment.
Once the dish decided, I grabbed a pair of scissors and went to the garden. I proceeded to grab some fresh rosemary (for the said dish) and picked some basil for the accompanying pasta. As I was tendering to the basil, a neighbor came and said that she was also in need of basil for some fresh tomatoes a friend had given her from her garden. When she said that she also had eggplants I offered to pick some oregano, lemon thyme, sage or.. ahem.. rosemary for her. In a gesture of appreciation she, in turn, brought me an eggplant and a beef tomato from the afore mentioned friend.
So I now have a kitchen smelling of fresh herbs, since I stocked up in everything that smells good, a chicken that has been cooking in rosemary, a sliced tomato with basil to start with — which promises to taste divine—, an eggplant waiting to be baked and me feeling like a true agrarian. Doesn't take much to make me happy now does it?

The end of Summer

I've been lazy... mea culpa. I've often sat in front of the computer with the best intentions of writing but was distracted by numerous things. Once it was a fly. Ok, it might not have been just any fly, the thing was persistent, it kept landing on my arm or on the screen. It wasn't big or small, and apparently it liked our apartment so much that it survived for what seemed to be the whole summer, avoiding Nadir's magazine swats with mastery and my annoyed persecutions in a very non-chalant way.

Often when I sat ready to write, my eyes would wander and I would ultimately find something that needed my immediate attention: a plant needing water, an unwanted spec of dust, a pillow not fluffed enough. Another time it was the breeze. Yes, I sit next to a window and the summer breeze is one of those things that takes my mind to far away places. Nothing awakens my senses like a summer breeze. There was the garbage truck one evening that seemed to make more noise than usual, and I should also mention Mister Softee. Now Mister Softee is one of those NY things that brings out the best in you when you're 10 years old, and the worst when you're an adult.
Mister Softee, for all of you who don't know, is an ice-cream truck. It c-o-n-s-t-a-n-t-l-y plays this music that I always wondered why it hasn't been used in a horror movie. The first time you hear it it's almost nice, it reminds you that summer is here, that kids will be running outside to get their ice-cream and that everything is ok with the world. By August you're ready to grab a bazooka and shoot the damn thing (when there are no kids around and the driver is getting a cup of coffee mind you - no need for blood). And so Mister Softee makes me forget the summer breeze as I close the windows to keep my murderous instincts in check.

Right now, someone is listening to Andrea Bocelli in their car, loud enough for me to hear, and my first instinct is to get up and put the CD on, but no, I've decided that I would write today (saying absolutely nothing by the looks of it) and post a blog.
So here it is, an entry about flies and ice creams and my lack of concentration. It's the end of the summer, and that means, my dear friends, that I'll be moaning soon enough about weather and winter, writing about soups and hearty dishes, about classes and life. Nothing else to say but: I'm baaaack.

Back to Basics

Monday night. After a day of reaching 90F with over 80% humidity we're home enjoying a quiet evening with the AC on. We start seeing lights flickering and power getting weaker so we turn off the AC and get candles, batteries and flash-lights out. After the blackout of two years ago we recognize the signs. Power is low but it's late so we don't mind. Off to bed.
Tuesday morning. No hot water. It's hot and humid so it almost feels refreshing. The light in the bathroom has the power equivalent to that of a candle, but I don't see much in the morning anyway.
Nadir suggests that I take a pocket flash-light with me just in case and I leave early not knowing what I will find out there.
The first sign is that there is no light in the hallway, no elevator. So I start taking the stairs and thank my lucky stars that I married such a smart man as I turned on the flashlight. 6 flight of stairs later I'm lighting the way for a group of people going to work and trying to make it to the main door of the building.
Subways are running OK, no signs of anything wrong in Manhattan. My office is an ice box and the day goes by without a glitch. I get updates from my husband of the conditions back home. The temperature reaches 100F, Nadir is beyond miserable, he tries to cool off at the pool but going up and down 6 floors would make anyone cranky.
By Wednesday I was trying to make light of the situation and told Nadir to see it as an adventure. Needless to say that he looked at me like I had two heads.
It's day 5 now and I'm the one on the edge. There are things that people not going through this do not realize, little details that might not seem like much but that after a week begin to take huge proportions.
We had to throw out everything we had in the fridge. Then the problem becomes what to eat. Most would say take-out, and that would be OK except that the whole neighborhood has no power. No power=no refrigeration, no refrigeration=food spoils. I'm not about to get food poisoning. The supermarkets have no power, the restaurants have no power, we would have to go to another neighborhood to get food, and then what? keep it how? canned food is a solution, but when you have thousands of people in the same situation guess what, we all think of the same thing. Salads? hmm they don't really fare well in 100F, nor do vegetables or fruit, all rotten.
Laundry. What laundry? I'm going to have to start doing it by hand and trust me, not looking forward to it. The dishes OK, but washing clothes in the sink?
The garbage. No garbage-shoot and so we have to walk down the 6 flights, with a flash-light.
At least we have the pool you say? no, we don't. No power therefore no filters, ergo no pool. No garden either, it's pouring.
At first people would take it in stride, laughing and saying "unbelievable". Now the unbelievable is usually preceded by a curse word and the faces do not show any amusement. Everyone looks tired and beyond annoyed.
We're one of the lucky ones, we have power in half of the apartment since Thursday. We still don't understand why only half but at this point we don't care. We're locked up because there is no way we'll be going up and down the stairs and walk aimlessly in pitch-dark streets. Don't want to go into the city either because it will only serve as a reminder that this is the kind of thing that would never happen in Manhattan. I'm already mad, no need to get furious.
I have totally lost my sense of humor, I am beyond cranky, I am tired and I want this to be over.
If I hear one person telling me that it can't be that bad I'll choke them. Unless you go through something like this you can't understand the toll it takes on your psyche. We're all doing the best we can to maintain a sense of civility, but seriously, the last thing you want to do is to be nice.
After 5 days of taking cold showers, of not being able to get normal food, of not knowing when the hell we will go back to "normality", I don't want to hear one more politician telling us that they're doing the best they can. I want them to come over and take showers in our houses and deal with the crap we've been dealing with.

Rodeo

We had our exciting moment this weekend. When you have a 4 day weekend, are married and both parties like to live like recluses, exciting moments can be counted on the fingers of one hand, besides the obvious moments that is... ahem...
So maybe it shouldn't be called "exciting" more like disturbing or an adrenaline-pumping moment. We had a waterbug (or American cockroach as I learned after doing some research, like I always do when I worry about something) in the apartment. You know the ones, they are huuuuuge, have wings although don't always use them, and you can actually see the hair on their freaking legs, which are more than four. Many of you know my opinion: more than four legs, not normal.
Anyway, this waterbug or roach or whatever huge thing it is, made its appearance in our spare bedroom which is our home-office, right in front of Nadir.
He, of course, tells me this in a very nonchalant way: "I saw a huge cockroach". Now, 1) for my husband to say that it was huge it means that it was gargantuan, and 2) he wasn't able to kill it. Needless to say that I proceeded to lock the room and duck-tape the door shut, I did not want that creature crawling on me while I was sleeping.
The day after, we (we being my husband and me looking on by the sidelines) emptied the office and cleaned it thoroughly, setting "roach motels" all over the place. At least it could die of laughter at the sight of those things.
And so this evening, as I'm typing this, Nadir is in the doomed room and I can hear things moving around and flip flops being banged against the floor. There is a fight going on, and I'm staying as far as I can from it.
Let the best man, creature, win.
Conclusion: the man won. After hearing many bangs I saw him darting into the kitchen and grabbing paper-towels to retrieve the corpse while mumbling "got the damn thing". The dead beast is in the garbage. My man, feeling like a hunter that has finally gotten his prey, is proud of his accomplishment. Me? I'm sure that the thing is going to try and crawl its squished-self out of the garbage bag just to prove us wrong. Why couldn't he just drop it in the toilet?? Can't wait until Nadir dumps the garbage. I just know that the moment I grab the bag the monster will come back to life and jump on me seeking revenge...

Pics

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what football (or soccer) is all about:

And ultimately this:

Oh yeah baby!

I have to do this: Allez les Bleus!!! France won against Brazil!!!!!! yeah! And again, Zidane, one of the oldest players in the cup, proved to be amazing... what a game...