Filed under: live and learn, rants and ramblings, toque de queda | Tags: huevos, retrospectiva, tocino, zucaritas
Algunos dicen que uno nunca es el mismo. Que inevitablemente cambiamos, o que es justo y necesario reinventarse, o que es de sabios rectificar e incluso cambiar de opinión. Otros dicen que la gente nunca cambia, y exaltan el “genio y figura hasta la sepultura”.
No estoy muy segura de qué postura tomar ahora que me leo en retrospectiva. Claro que he cambiado, pero sigo teniendo mis ideas tan fijas –o flexibles– como siempre. Tal vez sólo siento una vergüenza semi infantil al percibirme un poco ‘loud’, naïve, radical, soberbia a veces… creo que el conflicto lo experimento en la manera de enunciarme, mas no en mis enunciados.
Como sea, el rant que desató esta pseudo reflexión es el malhabido “Menos zucaritas y más huevos”, el cual me estoy dando el lujo de rectificar, agregándole un cínico corolario, derivado de una simpática enseñanza del Ing. Lecanda sobre los desayunos:
Los huevos con tocino es la relación a la que deberíamos aspirar la mayoría de las mujeres, pues ahí, la gallina, sí, está involucrada, pero el cerdo es quien se encuentra fatalmente comprometido.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: dedicatorias, lily allen, songs, videos
There’s just one thing that’s getting in the way
When we go up to bed, you’re just no good, it’s such a shame
I look into your eyes, I want to get to know you
And then you make this noise and it’s apparent it’s all over
For good or for bad, the school I went to as a kid didn’t teach housekeeping and wifely skills. The first form of interest I ever showed regarding those subjects happened at my grandmother’s house, one afternoon, as I watched my granny doing some needlework. Immediately I got my hands to that labour. I spent a considerable amount of childhood hours replicating the models and patterns of magazines. I’m a good learner.
Later on, I changed the needles, yarns, color threads and fabrics for science –then i switched to music, then back to study, then to flamenco, then to love. Back to basics, they say; I recently put my hands back on the needles. It was inevitable to think about two things:
- The feminine nature of the labour I was performing: maybe it’s the Greeks’ fault, but the iconic power of Penelope and her weaving is undeniable. Threading her will and hope during 20 years of faithful wait, keeping herself for a husband lost at war. Waiting and hoping always seem to be feminine qualities.
- The therapeutic attributes of the act of weaving –it’s really amazing how the output threads match one’s own state of humour, emotions, or soul… A misterious corolary of the law of conservation of energy might suggest that you do not just weave a scarf; you actually dream, and tell a story, and caress, and hug, or even kiss the neck of someone.
I’m sooo girl.
Filed under: Uncategorized
With one foot in the bath, I stood waiting for her to return. I waited an unreasonably long time, long enough to realize that she wouldn’t be back tonight. But what if I waited it out, what if I stood here naked until she returned? And then, just as she walked in the front door, I could finish the gesture, squatting in the then-cold water.
I had done strange things like this before. I had hidden under cars for hours, waiting to be found; I had written the same word seven thousand times attempting to alchemize time. I studied my position in the bathtub. The foot in the water was already wrinkly. How would I feel when night fell? And when she came home, how long would it take her to look in the bathroom? Would she understand that time had stopped while she was gone? And even if she did realize that I had done this impossible feat for her, what then? She was never thankful or sympathetic.
I washed quickly, with exaggerated motions that warded off paralysis.
–Miranda July
