Sun Poisoning

A few years ago I went for a weekend to the beach far far away from where I lived. I wanted to get a tan (because I'm so frigging white!). All the good shade was taken when we arrived to the beach, so we had to settle to shade under a huge parasol and also brave the scorching sun. Someone said that Cabo Rojo is one of those beaches in which you can get burned easily. I didn't understand, was the beach closer to the sun? Or was there something in the water? So I just shrugged those comments off and laid on the sand with a towel over my face. I could feel the glorious heat caving into my skin, it actually felt good. I could feel tthe bright sun everywhere weighing down. I turned over and did my back too. I ignored random comments and/or advice: "you shouldn't bake for that long, Joel". And then, ten or fifteen minutes later of relaxed sunbaking (suntanning, whatever) I got up and went into the water. But then, afternoon came and the time to go back to the hostel. My skin started to tighten on the shoulders, arms, back and chest. By the time I went to take a shower to wash off the salt water I was blazing like a motherfucking bonfire. I couldn't move. The water from the shower was felt like a thousand fat needles. My skin was lobster red, and it was as hard as a lobster shell is. It smelled like roasted chicken, and if you touched it also felt like hardened roasted chicken skin. It was awful. Dreadful. Uber painful. The next day I started to get hugeamongous pustules which reminded me of when the Gremlims touched water. The pustules would break and bleed their puss and then burn because it was open skin. Waking up and getting up from bed was tedious, because the clothes gets stuck on these pustules and on the burnt skin in general... I had to peal it off, it felt as if I was grating myself. I went to the doctor and he prescribed: gatorade (for hydration), solarcaine and cold aloe vera... the rest was up to my skin and to my will to endure.... I swore not to let that happen again. That's why I'm still so frigging white!

Another sun poisoning story, didn't happen to me, but to one of my roommates in Orlando. It was the third or forth week there in the new appartment, when we realized that he had been gone for a couple of days. Until one night there is a knock on the door (maybe I'm fictionalizing this) and there he was, red-skinned and miserable. (Actually, we roommates got back from work and found him lying almost dead on the bed with his face all red, but the door scenes sounded more fascinating). So we found him on the bed, and he slowly took his covers off and we saw his chest, which was super white before, was like a lighted piece of coal. His legs were so burnt that he couldn't set his foot on the floor in the proper manner. It was painful to see. He could barely walk. And because he was so thin, he looked very very ill. We helped him though, we were good roommates. A week later he was almost back into his own skin and goofing around all over.

So, why am I telling these stories? Well, because I saw THIS Family guy episode:

You're haunting this house with your whiteness, Brian.

Two hours of E-mail bashing

I've spent TWO frigging hours erasing 758 emails from my inbox, AND I couldnt finish. I found articles, old stories, a porn video, threads of mailing lists, rants I send to people, emails that I send to myself to remind me of things, emails that I've sent that made me teary-eyed....

Now my inbox has 840 emails; plus the 758... that was 1598 emails in total.
Shites!

Of those 1598 I had 224 unread emails, some I have read and marked them as unread so as to come back to them... but others....

anyway, why am I telling you this? Because I wish I had taken better care of my inbox. Now, I only have 81 unread messeges that I have already read....


se me acabaron las ganas de hablar en inglés... por alguna razón las palabras no me están saliendo tan fluidas... pero ya no tengo nada más que decir eniwei...

Me Me mío

Bueno, más vale tarde que nunca: aquí va mi MeMe (y con acentos incluidos) (paréntesis) (woohoo). Elidio me envio la invitación y se me había olvidado por completo...

Dale Joel.

1. Cada jugador comienza con 8 cosas sobre sí mismo.
2. Las personas que han sido seleccionadas por el jugador tienen que escribir en su blog 8 cosas sobre ellas y escribir las reglas.
3. Al final de tu escrito tienes que seleccionar a otras 8 personas y escribir sus nombres/blog.
4. No te olvides de dejarles un comentario - que han sido seleccionadas para este juego - y leer su blog.



I. Las modas siempre me pasan antes de yo adoptarlas, por esa razón siempre estoy un poquito atrasado en eso del último grito. Por ejemplo, la moda de los corduroi vino y se fue y eeeeentonces fue que yo vine a usarlos. That's me.

II. Me gusta escribir porque puedo hacer las cosas que no se pueden hacer en la vida real (volar por ejemplo, o arrancarle la cabeza a un oso panda en medio del zoologico de China, solamente para demostrar mi fuerza demoledora ante una especie en peligro de extinción).

III. También soy de los antisociales (como No Apta), aunque (como ella) estoy superando esas barreras poco a poco (espero lograrlo completamente para el final de este año). El problema es imponer juicio sobre las personas antes de conocerlas, y bueno, no sé si esa característica apareció en mí por sí sola o si fue como resultado de mi "upbringing", pero no puedo evitar imponer juicio sobr las personas. Así que, "if your ugly, I wont talk to you; unless someone intervenes in your behalf". Eso suena tan superficial (because it is). Lo peor es que tiendo a atraer la gente que piensa igual (o serå que las escojo así).

IV. Para contrarrestar el negativismo anterior: El amor es la cosa más trágica y hermosa que el ser humano se ha inventado en la historia. En ese sentido, siempre soy amable con toda persona que se me acerca (no porqu la ame, sino porque no hay razón para no ser amable). (como que una cosa no tiene que ver con la otra, verdad?). La amabilidad es un cierto amor al prójimo.

V. No saludo. No es que no me guste saludar, es que simplemente no está en mí. Tal vez sea por le hecho de que no me gusta decir adiós tampoco. Siempre digo "Nos vemos", y como nos vamos a ver (próximamente) pues no hay necesidad de decir Hola. Get it? Además de que adiós es tan finito...

VI. Me gusta enseñarle a la gente como hacer las cosas, o darles direcciones de un sitio.

VII. Voy al cine contigo o sin ti. No es una cuestion de verse como un "asshole by yourself in the movies", es cuestion de ir a ver la película como si se fuese a un museo de arte (al cual uno va contigo o sin ti) (meaning with or without any company). (claro que la compañía hace la diferencia y la amenidad).

VIII. Me encanta la comida de Puerto Rico, por mås que coma Thai, China, Italiana, Americana.... El arroz blanco sueltecito con unas habichuelas rosadas y corned beef sasonadita poco seca con maiz y unos amarillitos.... se me hace la boca agua.


Bueno, ahí está el MeME.

ahora le toca a: (ay, no sé quienes faltan!).
bueno: Jose Borges, Jpagan, Kiwi, Narami (que hace tiempo no la veo por ahi).... Ay, todo el que quiera.

Woohoo

Harry Potter and the Deadly Hallows @ midnight

Creyendo que Harry Potter ya estaba en las tiendas el viernes, sali a buscarlo. Resulta que el libro comenzaba a venderse de viernes pa sabado a la medianoche. Pues, como soy un geek malo, me quede en la libreria hasta la medianoche y compre el libro. No habia ido a ninguna de estas actividades antes. No es nada del otro mundo.

Bueno, son las tres de la manana en Las Vegas, seguramente los ninos, jovenes, adultos y viejos (quienes (en los cuatro grupos de edad) se visten y disfrazan) (why?) (why not?)... pues seguramente todos esos que tienen la habilidad de la fotolectura ya saben el final de Harry. A veces envidio a los fotolectureros, pero otras veces, como que quisiera tardarme un poquito mientras llego al final.

Empezare a leer...

Five things I must do before leaving Las Vegas

• 1. Visit either The Grand Canyon or Hoover Dam (me conformo con uno).
• 2. Do some indoor sky diving (because I'm too chicken to do real sky diving).
• 3. Ride at least one of the rides on top of the Stratosphere Hotel Tower (there are four of them, and I probably only have the guts to do the one called Big Shot).
• 4. I must watch at least one of the Cirque du Soleil Shows (there are so frigging many).
• 5. And number five is: I HAVE to see Celine Dion's show.

there are some other things I should do also, I should go to a strip club, and I shall spend many nights at the (intriguingly named) ultra-lounges, what else.... i dont know, I have to keep adding things to this list.

So, yes, Vegas is hot, but it is not as hot as I thought it would be. It is as hot as Puerto Rico. The thing is that there aren't many trees to shelter oneself from the sun... And sometimes, the sun reflects on the street and sidewalks and it feels as if I was being broiled. But then again, the heat is not unbearable, surely I have had to drink a lot of water, because it does dries you up.

What else... I live in a nice apartment. I have a pool. And a view of The Strip. So I'm awesome.

Oh, And I love the M&M Store... It has four floors. What do they have in four floors? I asked the same thing. And the answer is, the same shit with different clothes.

Suicide Prevention or Golden Gate Blues

On the last hours of my last day in San Francisco I arrived to the Golden Gate Bridge. I had already seen it during the day (on previous days) but from afar, and I wanted the upclose experience. But what happened? On that last day I decided to go to as many places as I could, being the bridge the farthest landmark from my starting point, I went there last. And so, I regreted it.

When I arrived it was already dark. It was 5:30 PM or maybe 6:00, I don't remember, but it was as dark as if it were midnight. I got off the bus. I walked through the freezing breeze of the ocean, happy that I was going to BE on the Golden Gate at last, under its fade lights and red structure, only to encounter a gate that closed the entrance of the sidewalk of the bridge, branding two signs:

One said: "No pedestrians after 6:30 PM", I'm pretty sure it wasn't even six. Dang it! But then, my night wasn't all lost, for I read the other sign, right under that one that said:

"The consequences of jumping from this bridge are fatal and tragic". Uuh, duh? It was so funny that there was a sign on the entrance of the bridge that stated the obvious, then again people ignore many signs on their ways... But this one was a first for me. Then it hit me that there must have been many people that jumped over the side of the bridge for the city to post this sign. And then I remember the fog that remained during my stay in SanFran, my friend told me that it was constant (although I also enjoyed pretty clear skies, but mostly it was cold, rainy and gray). It has to have a toll on people....

Still, I thought it funny. And in the end I enjoyed the saddened/nostalgic look of the bridge in the night and up close.

((I should have just jumped onto the street! There wasn't a sign for THAT!)).

Today Last Year, no fear

There are dates that you never forget. Today is 19th of December. The 19th is part of a sequential-trilogy of days. I'll explain. The 17, 18 and 19 of December of last year 2005, were the turning point of a very awesome Christmas.

Two days ago, I started to write this, and here goes:
On December 17th, 2005, a night much like this one, at this same exact hour/time: 1:00 AM (of the 18th actually), I was on my way to the Greyhound Bus Station in Downtown Las Vegas. I was going to make a 15-16 hour bus ride to San Francisco. It was one of the best experiences I've had.

The bus ride was pretty much uneventful, but the days before the ride, and the days after...!!! Gosh... I get teary-eyed.

I left Las Vegas at 1:45 sharp. I was driven to the station by Joel (the other one). On the bus I called Alexandra, who was the one I was meeting in SanFran, and we talked for like an hour or more, or until the people on the bus were bothered by me speaking. The road was dark, invisibly barren. We would stop at these small little outposts in the middle of the dark nowhere. And we'd move on to the road. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, the day was rising. Early morning in the plains of California, after a while buildings and urban areas started to appear on the roadsides, and soon the metropolis of Los Angeles was evident. There the bus stopped for a layover (at a very unappealing station). Then, the landscape of lonely hills returned. The bus stopped at the most solitary Burger King I've ever seen, and it was cloudy, the sky was super grey, it was a little rainy, and it was uber cold. I loved it.

But I want to tell you about the moment going to the station in Vegas, and the moment getting out of the station in SanFran.

I had been camping at Joel's appartment (the other Joel), it was the last day I was going to be in Las Vegas. We were going to eat. Joel's girlfriend had to work. I packed up my things, I put them in the back of the car. I was leaving. We had dinner at the Hard Rock Café, and then we had like four hours to kill before 1:45 AM. I don't remember exactly what we did, I think we walked around the casinos and tried to get to a show (cirque du soleil or a comedy show I'm not sure) but it was sold out. But, what I do remember is the drive to the station. So much silence. It reminded me of the taxi ride, in Orlando, from the appartment in Disney to the airport. The same quietness, the lights of the street swooping by around the car. And, just like that, I was at the station, I grabbed my bags and said goodbye. It reminded me of so many movies when goodbye scenes are so long. But this, was very casual, as if that was a natural thing, as if tomorrow I'd be there again. "See you soon", I said. "Merry Christmas", he said. "You too", I said. "Thanks for visiting", he said. "No, thank you". And just like that, I crossed the glass doors, bought my ticket and he was off and I was off. 1:00 AM that was, on the 17-18.

Then, at 6:30 PM I arrived in San Francisco, it was dark already. And the station was dirty, dark, and wet. I asked a clerk: "What's the address of this place", she said really loud(if i recall correctly): "This is Mission and 2nd Street". And in my mind I was: "Dang, I need to go to 9th street or Market street". But, since the lady wasn't really nice I just went towards where everybody went, it was a bus stop, a big one, and I had to get on one to get to Market. I called Alexandra:
"What do I do."
"Where are you?"
"Second and Mission"
"Oh my God, your so far! I'm on 17th street."
"Dont you live on 9th?"
"I was with a friend".
"Ok, so what do I do?".
"Find Market street and the Bart".
"What the fuck is the Bart".
"The subway, just ask for the Bart".

And so, I was off, with my bags, running around dark streets. I was fine tho, because I had studied Google Earth, and new the order of the streets (I'm geeky like that). Then, I asked for the Bart and people told me the directions. I went underground. I emmerged at the appointed station in 16th Street/Mission Street. It was darker, wetter, and a little getto. I was in survival mode, and I saw heaven: a Walgreens! Five minutes later Alexandra arrives and we embrace right in front of the cashier lady, who had to wait for us a while before I could pay. It was already like 8:00 PM on the 18th. On the 19th I woke up to a new city.

2005 was the year of no fear. On January 6th, 2005, Alexandra was in Puerto Rico, she said: "no fear, Joel", because I was leaving to Orlando, "why fear, Joel? Remember: no fear". I followed I guess.

No fear makes u do things... And this is/was just a pinch of those things.

What will happen in 2007?

The Beach Night (a chronicle of life)

I was living in Orlando last year (you know this already, I know). One night I came from work, tired, and wearing the most ridiculous uniform that Disney has... I opened the door to my apartment and there is the other Joel, and he says: "change clothes, right now, we're leaving". "Leaving where?". "We're going to the beach". "What?" "Yes, hurry up, Jeremy will pick us up in 10 minutes". But, the thing was that it had been raining for the past three days, and that day was no exception. (The day before, one of our neighbors went outside to play in the rain, Jamie is her name: "Come on Joel, come down and play in the rain", I was like: "Nope, not happening". I don't know why I didn't do it, but I guess I missed it... Although she was freezing later, I didn't miss THAT!). So, anyway, I said to Joel (the other one): "But it's been raining for the past three days!" "Doesn't matter", he said. And so, I changed clothes, packed a small bag, and 10 minutes later we were gone.

Three things you should know for this story to be more... "understandable". One, the beach is like two hours and a half away from Orlando. Two, there were five of us in the trip, and three had to work the day after. Three, it was midnight already.

So, we're on the road. Jeremy drives. Heather is next to him. Catalina next to me, and Joel on her other side. I (still not in the mood to get rained on in the middle of the night, with the freezing air from the ocean, and miles away from the apartment) asked again: "why are we going to the beach?", and one of the girls goes: "we're going to watch the sunrise..." In my mind I was like: "that's cool". And then, my resistance to the whole thing was gone. Why were we going to the beach in a yet-to-be-rainy night? Just because we wanted, because it was a nice way to waste or spend time and it was cool.

So, the girls played a cd from a Pat Benatar (if I remember the name correctly...) I never heard of her (Pat), but some of the songs were familiar, and old! (wikipedia her).

We're on the road, and half way thru, I yell: "Where is everybody!" Because there were no cars in the street, no cars parked on the sides or at the small mall areas, then I remembered, that most of Orlando is country-side, altho they want to think otherwise... But still, even in the country side you have cars on the highway (because we were on a main line), it was deserted, dark, and gloomy, kinda creepy, kinda scary... I may have a picture, let me see. Yes, found the picture... ... ... ... ... I was so surprised, and here I said something like: "In Puerto Rico you will always cars coming and going, and something is always open..."

On the picture:
1. The yellow line of the road lighted dimly by the car in the dark.
2. This light is mysterious, what the hell could it be? Probably some ghost.
3. The edge of the trees like teeth, engulfing the cloudy sky.
4. This is not an UFO, just some photographic shit.

So, after a while in this darkness, in the blindness almost, out of no where Jeremy says: "We're going the wrong way", and Heather: "How do you know?", Jeremy: "I know because we've been going northwest for a while, and the beach is at the northeast, and this road doesn't seem to want to turn that way." Jeremy had a digital compass on his car, I had noticed it since we left the apartments, it was a nice gadget, I would glance at it from time to time, to see the direction we were going. I had also noticed that we had been going the opposite way, but I didn't say anything because I didn't know if the roads just led that way and then turn... But, the problem was that we were on an f-ing highway, and the next exit to turn around was far far far. Eventually we did turn, and went all the way back from where we came, until we reached the right road. Nothing eventful happened. Except, that for the locals, we should have looked like an UDO (instead of UFO) (unidentified driving object) because we were alone in the road, and there were flashes coming from the inside. ET's ship on the dark, deserted road.

Finally we see some civilization, and by civilization I mean electricity! And then, at the first traffic light in miles we experienced the encounter of our lives. The light is green, Jeremy does not slow down, and I, as always, expecting the worst, stiffened in my seat. Jeremy swooshes under the light, and immediately after, a car from hell whooshes behind us from the right. It was a near miss. Or a near collision! "Did you see that?", Joel asks me, and I said "Yes". I don't remember if any of the others noticed... I'm sure they did, and I did mention it...

Anyway, so, for my great relief there was a SevenEleven, and still no beach. We saw a Ron Jon Surf Store. But no beach. We go into the Seveneleven (why is it called like that?) and ask. Remember it is like two or three in the morning, we looked suspicious. But, who doesn't look suspicious at a Seveneleven at that time? We asked for the beach, and the lady said that it was right behind the store. "But we didn't see it". "Because it is on the other side of the big bushes". "ooooh". So, we walk to the bushes. And certainly we see sand. No water. No sound of waves. Jeremy was the brave soul who went into the bushes. I stayed with the rest, in a relatively safe area telling stories about the thirty ways we could die in this place, the most scary one was if a big monstrosity came out from the bushes with a huge chainsaw.

While we waited for Jeremy to come by (which seemed like a very long time, and we started to worry some guy kidnapped him and chopped him into pieces), we found a yellow sign that said: "No camping overnight at the beach". Motherfucker! All the way down there and we couldn't go?! Jeremy eventually emerged from the darkness with a smile, saying that the beach was indeed there. But, we couldn't "camp". So we hopped in the car, and went along side the beach for a place where there was no sign, and more importantly, for a place where there was more light! More electricity!

We found a motel parking. We parked there. We walked to the beach. The sand was wet, of course. We ran. Jeremy slept. We wet our feet. We talked. We walked more. We threw sand. We got tired. We stretched the towels on the ground. We laid there. It was cold. Someone brought a sheet and we shared. We talked more. Jeremy said shut up. We did. For a while. And then, we fell quiet. And Heather fell asleep. Joel almost did. Me and Catalina didn't, but decided that we should. And we set ourselves to sleep. Three minutes later, a drop of water falls on my face. And I can't stop laughing. Heather started laughing too. "It'll pass", Jeremy said from the deeps of his sleeps. But the rain didn't stop. It was light rain, but steady, and it intensified for a while. And we decided to go sleep in the car. We gathered our things. We walked back. We crammed ourselves in the car, somehow and we slept.

It was a good trip. Really. I don't remember much of the return trip. Nothing at all, actually (did I fall asleep?).

We just spent time in the most enjoyable way. It's awesome.

Not one of us saw the sunrise, but it didn't really matter.

Exodus at the Train

We interrupt this blog's usual programing for a special announcement.

The train suffered an exodus today.

When I got into the train station at Sagrado Corazón this afternoon (at3:30) the (electric) escalator was broken, and two workers were fixing it. So I had to take the elevator (too lazy to climb the stairs). The elevator is a state of the art machine, very futuristic with glass on its four sides, but, it was hot inside, not scorching hot, but hot still... Little did I know that the broken escalator and the hot elevator were warnings of what was coming.

I got onto the platform and it was full of people, no trains on any of the two tracks. I had never seen the station so full. Finally the train arrives in a timely manner, (that's why I love it, it is so realiable). I got in, I went into the last car, even though I don't like it. I sat in the back, because the air conditioning gets concentrated there and feels nice. And so, my fears of the last train car are not unfounded. They aren't. The last train is wobbly. Unstable. When you ride that car you feel the turns harder than in the other trains (even the first one). And you feel every imperfection of the track. I always fear that it will snap off from the rest of the train in a curve and we will fall off (with my luck) from the highest track. Or get rammed from the back by another train (but wait, then why sit at the back? I didn't really sat at the back, it depends from where you see it, I sat, technically on the front, but it is the seat that is back to back in relation to the previous train car... get it?). Anyway, I said to myself, nothing's going to happen, Joel, just read your book. But I couldn't read my book. There were lots of people in the train, making my head go even wilder with catastrophes. Consider this: more people, more weight on the car + last car's usual instability = more possibilities of derailment. But nothing like that was ever going to happen, I said to myself, and tried to read.

At each train station people would board the train, there were almost no seats available now. It gave me a sense of living in a great polis, just looking at how many people were using the train, and so I was entertained by that. I'm also amused by those who can't decide where to sit, and then the train moves and then they would whimper "wooo", and quickly take the next available seat... Surely, in their minds they thought, "ooph, I survived that!" (I still wait for someone to fall like a grapefruit ("fall like a grapefruit", puertorican saying)).

So then, nothing eventful happened for almost the rest of the way, until we get to Torrimar Station, and we hear the driver talk on the speaker. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman, the train has... [and here his transmition got cut off, for some unexplainable reason] ...so we will be here for about five minutes, thanks for your patience". And I see a woman wearing a yellow vest (the ones that use the employees of the train) run down the platform outside. Not good. Right? Well, about three minutes go by and the trainman/driver speaks again: "Ladies and gentleman, this train is going to be stopped here for some time" ("Este tren va a estar parao aquí por buen tiempo"), and then everyone in the train started to shuffle and get disappointed, oddly no one complained... (I was surprised about that). And the driver continued: "So..." and he paused, "this train is now out of service". And the people were like: "ooook... now what". Everyone was stupefied. And then, the driver said: "You can go to track two, the next train that arrives will take you to Bayamón". And the people had a late-reaction, about 20 seconds passed before everyone got the messege of: get out of the fucking train and go to the other side of the platform to take the other one, bitches... (hyperboles, I can't help it).

And so, the exodus started.

(I wanted to use the word exodus because it's so biblical and cataclismic and so alarming sometimes... and I saw last night a documentary on the biblical plagues, so... And also it was the right word to use after all, so the purpose of this paragraph is nule, but I'll still leave it because I used biblical and cataclismic inside a parenthesis which is always awesome). (now back to the story).

And so, the exodus began.

The train was so full. And now we had to take another train that would certainly be full too. And Torrimar station is the kind of sation where you have to go up the stairs, across the mezzanine and down again on the other side, unlike other sations where the platform is between tracks. The stairs were crowded with people, something I never thought I would see (or at least not yet). But oddly enough no one was angry or taken aback by the whole thing.

It happens that someone in the first car of the train had some medical issue and the train had to be stopped (or that's my conclusion, for I saw some medics there, and also thought, "wooo, medics, this train is really really versatile and reliable". So the public went up, and then down the other side, and the new train arrived on the track that normally runs to the opposite way. My brain started to tick again, "we will crash with an oncoming train... oh my gosh, and the worst part is that the people are cramming themselves in the first car, instead of going all the way to the back", which I did, I didn't want to die in a car full of people, I would take my chances again on the last car.

I survived. The train changed to its rightful track shortly after and everyone got to their destinations safe and sound. But it was a nice story to tell and I had to tell it, 'cause I love the train.

ps. but i'm still surprised about the whole orderly manner in which everything occured; today I'm proud.
ps2 (playstation2), bytheway, tomorrow is this blog's Birthday! woohoo!

Joel's Thoughts on blogs, stories/diaries and "randomness"

This post is mostly in Spanish, really sorry to all of you hispanically-impaired.

Today is August the 19th of 2006, this day last year was a sad/happy day. I left Orlando after a long time over there, and came back to Puerto Rico. And I thought it would be proper to commemorate this day with a very very nice memory that I wrote. The following text I wrote it in April of 2005, and I wrote it for a mailing list I am part of (aka Yahoo Group), and I wrote it because I had recently discovered what blogs were. And, I thought, I've always done that, it's just that I sent the "post" to all of my friend's emails. And hence the title of this entire blog: Joel's Thoughts on Stuff. So here is the reason, the origins, the roots of this place, and of course, the pleasant memories of a day in a fantasy world (that I made real, by the way). Es uno de esos viajes... [brackets added for clarification].



Hola chicos y chicas.

Es increíble la cantidad de información internética que existe en los susodichos blogs cibernéticos.

Me sorprende como es que la gente deja caer todos sus pensamientos en diarios cibernéticos que todo el mundo puede leer a la hora que les de la gana. La verdad es que no entiendo, como es que las generaciones han cambiado... desde la seguridad y privacidad de punky brewster, de diarios escritos que nunca podrían ser leídos por nadie, privados y únicos, embarrasing; hasta ahora la generacion de Katie (esa de los diarios [de los anuncios] de MTV, se llama Katie?), quien depura sus pensamientos para el placer de aquellos que interesen escucharlos. ¿Cuándo es que perdimos el pudor? ¿Cuándo perdimos la vergüenza? ¿Cuándo? Díganme?

Antes nadie se andaba diciendo por ahí que si anoche la chingué por el culo y estuvo tan rico. O, cuando se lo mame va a virar los ojos. O, esa puta me va mojar to cuando se lo meta. Etc etc. Nadie andaba corriendo por ahí diciendo esas cosas, [sino que] andaban escribiéndolas en sus diarios, soñando o simplemente contando aquello tan privado que hicieron ese día. Pero los blogs no tan sólo se prestan para relatar las aventuras sexuales de uno. También hay otras cosas personales como: ayer me tiré tres peos calientes, me senté en un clavo ensebao y di tres vueltas y corrí con el culo al aire por la zona bancaria a medio día desde el baño del dunkin donuts hasta el de sizzler. O algo como: tengo unas diarres tan puñeteras que me lo tiene ardiendo. O: esta gonorrea me tiene mal, dios mio, cuándo me la vas a quitar. O, cosas tan simples como: ayer me corté las uñas de los pies con los dientes, y lo volvería hacer. U, otro ejemplo: antes yo nunca hubiese aceptado que me gustaba la música de britney spears, ahora ya ni me importa aceptarlo, aunque ahora su música ha pasado por unas metamorfosis extremas que caen en el hiphop, como otras cantantes que son sopranos y se meten al hiphop *coughs* mariah *coughs* carey *coughs*.

Me sorprende la cantidad de franqueza con la que estas personas escriben tan públicamente sus pesares y aventuras. Me sorprende de verdad. Pero lo que más me sorprende es que ellos se creen que a la gente les importa. Pero entonces, me sorprende mucho más aún que a esas otras gentes SÍ les importa. Como a mi. No es excitante leerlos? Es como hoy

Hoy fuimos al Magic Kingdom. Joel, Alfonso, Jakie y yo. Jackie es la novia de Joel, o la casi-novia (para obtener más informacion sobre ellos por favors marque el 3, porque es tan larga su historia que si la cuento ahora me descarrilaría de mi fluir de conciencia el cual está siendo interrumpido en este momento por esta interrupción, la cual me recuerda que este post es una copia interrumpida de otro post que nunca vio la luz de la publicacion.....) anyway. Pues fuimos y yo he gastado taaaantos chavos hoy. Dios mio. De 4 veintes que tenía y un diez, ahora solamente me queda un peso y una chavería. Les cuento.

Pues como estabamos libre hoy, pues decidimos ir a Magic Kingdom. Primero fuimos al property control, que es donde está toda aquella mercancía que ya está pasada de moda, o que ya no se puede vender porque, por ejemplo, dice dosmilcuatro en vez de dosmilcinco, o cosas que están semirotas, o cuyo empaque está muy maltratado, o simplemente lo que no se vendió por buen tiempo. Pues allí gasté 6 en un peluche de Stitch, y 15 en un sombrero para mi papá, un pin y un magneto. Así que ya van 21. Pues entramos a magic kingdom y lo primero que dice Joel es: "i'm hungry, are you guys hungry?" y nosotros: "no, we had cereal at home, dude", and he goes: "why would you do that?" y nosotros, "we were hungry, dude". Pues Jackie recomienda que comamamos papitas de macdonalds en el único cabrón carro de macdonalds que hay en Magic Kingdom, que está en un rincón bien al final al otro lado del parque desde dnde estábamos. Pues fuimos, y había esta única condená fila y el sol del medio día ahí dándonos [achicharrándonos desde] arriba. Por suerte ellos trajeron sunblock, ese que es como travel (como los juegos de mesa travel, pues así, era como un lipstick bien gordo). Anyway, pues en las papas me gasté 3 pesos casi. Seguimos caminando y había oooootra fila bien larga para Splash Mountain (si no sabe lo que es splash mountain presione el 2 para una descripción detallada, ahora). Pues, por consiguiente cogimos un Fastpass pa volver más tarde. (si no sabe lo que es un fastpass presione el 1 ahora para obtener más información de cómo funciona). Pues seguimos caminando hasta montarnos en el jungle cruise que es un boat ride en esta agua que parece mas mierda que agua, porque era, sin mentir del color de la mierda (aunque la mierda es relativa, a veces es brown, otras es negra, otras es verde, otras es ocre, y otras es terracota, ahora... si es roja, estas jodío porque estás sangrando; y a veces tiene cantos de maíz...) pero bueno. La cuestión es que nos montamos en el Jungle Cruise y el tipo que estaba conduciendo, o el guía, era tan gracioso, porque era uno de estos tipos que dice los chistes de una forma desganada y bien seria, y yo me estuve riendo casi todo el ride. Estuvo mucho mejor que la primera vez que me monté, lo cual fue la pendejada más grande, porque los animales son animatronics que tu sabes que no te van a hacer nada.... pero entonces hay una parte en que hay unos hipopotamos "asesinos" en el area, y se supone que el tipo les dispare con una pistola que tiene. Pues no, él disparó al aire y dijo algo como: esos hipopotamos se asustaron tanto de mis habilidades con la pistola de señales que ahora no se salen del agua... algo así... y no hizo lo que se supone que decía el libreto.

Bueno, pues salimos de ahí y decidimos ir a comer mantecado en Main Street, (presione el 4 para saber la ubicación exacta de main street). Pues en el trayecto me compré una botella de agua $2, una cámara desechable con descuento $15, el mantecado $3, le presté $2 a Alfonso, así que eso es 22 y 21, 43. Luego fuimos a Tomorowland (presione el 5 para saber que es Tomorowland), nos montamos en el Blue line, el cual es como un tour the tomorowland, nos montamos en buzz lightyears star command (presione 6) y después en los Cohetes que están en [el] tercer piso. Son un poco aterradores, porque están tan alto, pero la vista es chévere. Después decidimos salir de magic kingdom e ir a disney quest (presione 7) en algún momento, no sin antes volver hasta splash mountain y usar el fastpass.

Y nos fuimos. Después de eso, no pasaron muchas cosas en DIsney quest, lo que sí tengo que recalcar es que pagamos 18 pesos para la entrada y estuvimos dos cabronas horas nada más, sin mencionar que me comí un Cheesecake, del Cheescake Factory (el cual está adentro de Disney Quest), que fue denominado como un trip to heaven, por una chica que recogimos antes de llegar allí; And i agree, aunque me costó 9 pesos con un refresco. así que ya vamos por 69. Después di veinte pesos pa una pizza que nos comimos a las once de la noche, ya son 89, y orita fui a comprar tres botellas de agua así que eso suma a 92. Solamente me queda un peso ahora. Que mucho uno gasta... dios.

CUando nos estabamos comiendo la pizza, Joel y Jacky se pusieron a hablar de cosas de su escuela de highschool, como por ejemplo con qué otra chica de la escuela Jacky tendría un threesome.... y se pusieron a hablar de nombres y de gente que no me interesaba, pero lo que sí me sorprendió es que ellos hablaban de la gente con el nombre y el apellido, como por ejemplo, hablaron de Cristina Torres... y yo: "i am surprised at how you refer to people from school by their names AND their last names", and he goes "there's a lot of people in vegas" and i go: "theres a lot of ppl in pr too". Es que yo no diria: Alexandra Trinidad is the most poliphaceted girl i know, or i wouldnt say Rosa Bravo reads tarot cards and studies anthropology at the same time, or Antony Gamunev writes this really erotic story/diary.... NOOOOOOO i would only use your first names, it seems to me more personal, i guess.... but english is impersonal anyway, so, what the hell.

Pues aquí estoy ahora.

Pues sí. Me sorprende cuan interesante son los blogs y me sorprende la cantidad de ellos que hay por ahi... y me sorprende todos los que hay.

Ahora tengo que salir a tirarme un peo y cagar y salir pa la sala a ver el episodio de Family guy, en que Pete está en la fábrica de Willy Wonka (presione 8 para más info).

Ah, se me olvidava decir algo, que mi roommate Danny (el que duerme en mi cuarto) me dijo que dijera, para añadirle al "randomness" de este post: me dijo que dijera que hablara del roommate que duerme con el radio y la luz prendía, que nada lo podría levantar de su sueño, que ni siquiera yo typeando lo molestaría. Pero la verdad es que sí, porque mi cama como que relincha cada vez que uno se sienta en ella y él tosses and turns en la cama de él, he doesnt wake up, but he is bothered. Just thought that you should know.

Ok, then, im leaving this blog, now, i will comment on randomness on my next blog, and about Anto's (you see, i dont even use his entire name!!! it is such a familiar thing to do for us [puertoricans/latinos]) and about Anto's story/diaries [about a girl doing things with her neigbor], which are sooo erotic and sooooo pedophilic.

Bueno, nos vemos.

firma
Postmodern Joel *Joel winks at Alex*




Y así comenzó todo. It is so raw. Hace tiempo que no escribo algo así... Tantos chistes internos, ese día lo recuerdo tan bien gracias a esto, que me trae una sonrisa nostálgica.

Disney World, Second Home, part II

More Disney Pics.
Here is the new centerpiece of the MGM Studios... I guess the watertank wasn't as... flashy as this.
More signs, and this one leads to Adventureland (as you have read) in the Magic Kingdom. Not the best picture, its unfocused and its kinda bland, my camera had issues that day, lots of the pictures came out a little blurry.
Another sign, this one is in the country of Germany, at Epcot. Das Kaufhaus, it is a souvernir shop, I think... But I like it because the façade of the plaza is on the background.
Aaaand a detail of the decoration of Cinderella's Castle, this decoration wasn't there when I got to Disney, that February, it was gradually being placed in a matter of weeks. The picture in the medallion changes into the four castles of the four Disney theme parks, or wait, there are five now.... I don't remember if the five were shown there.

Hope u liked the pictures. I have a ton, and more are coming.

La Música y sus poderes recordativos

Music and its rememberative powers

(recordativos=rememberative; I'm so good;
translated nonsense=disparates traducidos)
(english version HERE)

Hoy estaba escuchando música de la que he bajado a la computadora, y escuchando mis cd's que hace tiempo no lo hacía, y me ha sucedido algo tan... no puedo decir "tan increíble" porque sí lo creo, tengo que decir: "tan grato". Porque así es. Cuando uno se pone a escuchar música de años anteriores, imágenes sin ninguna relación, excepto de que son del pasado, se presentan en la mente como si hubiesen pasado ayer. Como si fuesen fotografías que se mueven. Uno puede ver si el día estaba nublado o brillante, si hacía calor o no, uno puede ver la gente al rededor, como también puede ser el recuerdo de un momento en el que solamente te puedes ver tu, a pesar de que recuerdas un montón de gente al rededor. Es como surreal eso. Uno recuerda tan vívidamente el momento... Por ejemplo, el otro día escuché en el radio:

Iris - Goo Goo Dolls, la canción de la película City of Angels, ¿Cuándo salió esa película? ¿1998? Y me recordó la escuela, estar en el pasillo de la escuela tirado al medio día escuchando el cd player de alguien, porque yo no tenía. También me acordó cantarla a coro en el carro de un amigo (Randy) cuando íbamos pa algún lao. "And I don't want the world to see me, cause I don't think that they'll understand, when everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am. También me acuerdo de cuando me enseñaron el CD de los Goo Goo Dolls (Dizzy up the girl), que para aquel momento eran lo nuevo... El CD me lo enseñaron en el salón de historia de cuarto año, y era febrero, porque se lo regalaron a una amiga mía (Yaysa) en el amigo secreto... qué cosas, no me acuerdo ni qué me regalaron a mi...

Esta otra canción la tengo en my Media Player
Hole in my Soul - Aerosmith, ¿de cuándo es esta? Uf, tiene que ser de antes como del 97. De esta me acuerdo que el video de lo pasaban a cada rato por el fenecido canal The Box, (creo que era The Box, si no, era uno de videos en cable). Lo tenían tan quemao tan quemao y tan quemao que daban un video y después salía Aerosmith, daban un video y después venía Aerosmith otra ves. There's a hole in my soul that's been killing me forever, its a place.... También me acuerdo haber visto el video en casa de una amiga (Carmen), que estábamos en su casa uno chorro de otros y yo porque acabábamos de terminar un trabajo de arte, embuste, era un trabajo de arte pero para la clase de ciencia.

Ay, me acordé qué me regalaron a mi en el amigo secreto de aquel Febrero de Goo Goo Dolls, mi amiga (Keila) me había regalado el CD de Enrique Iglesias, mi primer CD pa mi CD player, Wow. Dark ages, ni que Enrique Iglesias, ¿en qué yo estaba pensando? Eah, la canción de él "Esperanza" la daban en una novela que veía... uy, de tan solo pensar en novelas ahora me da escalofríos...

Otra canción:
El puente de San Blás - Maná, eah, esta sí es del 99. Me acuerdo porque el CD era mío (del 98 al 99 mis cds parieron como hamsters) y yo había puesto el CD en el salón de cerámica de la escuela pa hacer las esculturas con sosiego... Solaaa, sola en el olvido, solaaa, sola con su espíritu solaaaa, sola con su amor el mar, solaaaa en el muelle de san Blas. La maestra había dicho que era un buen CD.

Otra:
What's my age again - Blink 182, ¿2000?, lo que me acuerdo de esta es que la primera vez que estuve viviendo en Orlando los roommates y yo (out of boredom) nos poníamos a tocar instrumentos invisibles como los nenes chiquitos. What the hell is ADD, my friend's say I should act my age, what's my age again, what's my age again... Luke y Travis eran la guitarra y el bajo y yo la batería.

Otra:
Las Flores - Café Tacuba, ni siquiera voy a poner fecha a esta, porque la fecha del CD no concuerda con mi recuerdo, y mi recuerdo es como del 2002, era enero en la ya famosa fiesta de reyes de Yomara y pusieron esa canción y, por supuesto, todo el mundo se la sabe y todos la cantaron. Todo el mundo estaba sentado, en el piso, en los muebles, el árbol de navidad en una esquina con lucecitas doradas... Aayyyyy Ven y dime todas esas cosas invitame a sentarme junto a ti, escucharé todos tus sueños en mi oido.....

Otra:
Time of your life - Green Day, esta canción es vieja, pero el maldito del otro Joel la puso en el último día de la segunda vez que viví en Orlando, grabándola completamente en mi cerebro. Estaba de noche, ovbiamente, y todos estábamos empacando y yo tenía un CD de Celine Dion, y él lo quitó y dijo: "we have to put going-away music". Its something unpredictable, but in the end is right, I hope you had the time of your life... Recuerdo que Matt (mi otro roommate) dijo algo como: "oh, that's wrong".

Otra:
Cualquier canción country de las Hardcore-country, de las bien tierra adentro (gracias a Dios eso no se escucha aquí) me recuerda a Nick, (el otro roommate de Disney), y la vez que fuimos a comprar double cheeseburgers a peso en Mcdonald's. Él pone la estación country, y yo le digo, "you like that music", y él dice que sí, y yo: "but it's so... country", y él, "well, I'm from the country". Y después nos dieron los hamburgers por la ventanilla.

La última:
The Carol of the Bells, no sé quiénes tocan esta canción de Navidad, pero sí me acuerda la película Home Alone 2, donde el nene está solo en Nueva York... Y me acuerda que yo le conté la película ENTERA detalle por detalle, desde el "Plan Ho ho ho", hasta las palomas al final, se lo conté a mi amigo (Edgar) en la escuela elemental!!! Mi escuela elemental, diaaatre. ¿1992?

Y ya tengo que parar porque si sigo nunca acabo. Canciones específicas (hasta reggeatón, sí) me recuerdan gente específica. (Cualquier cosa de Shakira me recuerda a Alexandra, por ejemplo). Canciones que he olvidado, cuando las escuche de nuevo estoy seguro que me darán bofetadas de recuerdos, de sitios a los que jamás he vuelto a poner un pie, de momentos que jamás volverán a ocurrir. Es triste, pero también es grato... el saber que había y hay gente para compartirlas.

Music and its rememberative powers (translation)

(this is the translation of THIS post).
Music and its rememberative powers


(recordativos=rememberative; I'm so good;
translated nonsense=disparates traducidos)

Today I listening to some music that I have downloaded, and also some cd's that I hadn't heard in quite a long time, and something happened to me, something so... I cannot say "so incredible" because I do believe it, so I must say: "so pleasant". Yes, that's it. When you listen to passed-years music, unrelated images (except that they're all from the past) flash up to you as if they happened yesterday. As if they were moving pictures. You can see if that day was cloudy or sunny, or if it was hot or could, one can see the people around at that moment, or it can also be a memory of a moment in which you can only see yourself, even though you remember lots of people around you. Kinda surreal. You remember moments so vividly... As an example, the other day I hear on the radio:

Iris - Goo Goo Dolls, one of the City of Angels movie theme songs, when was this movie out? 1998? And it reminded me of school, high school, laying on the hallways at lunchtime with a bunch of people listening to that CD on someone else Cd player, because I didn't have one. It also reminded me of a day when we sang it together in my friend's (Randy) car. "And I don't want the world to see me, cause I don't think that they'll understand, when everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am." I also remember when I saw the Goo Goo Dolls CD (Dizzy up the girl), which in those days it was the newest thing... The Cd was shown to me in the history classroom, and it was February, I know because of the CD was given to my friend (Yaysa) as a secret-friend gift (like secret santa), and she showed it to me. Gosh, I don't even remember what was given to me...

This other song I have it in my Media Player
Hole in my Soul - Aerosmith, when was this song out? Must be from 97 or before. This song reminds me of its music-video, which played every so often on the forgotten channel The Box (RIP). The video grew tiresome after a while. Madonna first, then Aerosmith, lets say Goo Goo Dolls, and then Aerosmith again... no wonder... There's a hole in my soul that's been killing me forever, its a place.... I also remember having seen this music video at my friend's (Carmen) house, we were there because we were finishing an art project, wait, it was art but it was for science class.

Ay! I just remembered what I was given in the secret-friend that Goo Goo Dolls' February, mi friend (Keila) gave me Enrique Iglesias' first CD, which was also MY first, for my first cd player. Wow. Enrique Iglesias, what was I thinking? Dark ages.

Another song:
El puente de San Blás - Maná, gosh, this one's from 1999. I remember that because it was my cd (from 98 to 99 mi cd's spawned as if they were hamsters). I had played the CD at the ceramics classroom so that we could work peacefully... Solaaa, sola en el olvido, solaaa, sola con su espíritu solaaaa, sola con su amor el mar, solaaaa en el muelle de san Blas... My teacher said that it was a good CD, I believed her.

Another song:
What's my age again - Blink 182, 2000?, what I remember with this song is that the first time that I lived in Orlando, the roommates and I (out of boredom) would play imaginary instruments to this song, as if we were little kids. What the hell is ADD, my friend's say I should act my age, what's my age again, what's my age again.... Luke and Travis were the guitar and bass, I was the drums.

Another Song:
Las Flores - Café Tacuba, I'm not even going to write the date on this, because the date is superfluous to my memory. My memory is from 2002, it was January at the now famous Magi King Party at Yomara's house, and the song was played, and of course, everybody knows the lyrics to this classic, and everyone sang. All were seated on the floor or on the couches... the Christmas Tree still up in a corner with golden lights... Aaayyyyy ven y dime todas esas cosas, invítame a sentarme junto a ti, escucharé todos tus sueños en mi oido....

Another:
Time of your life - Green Day, this is a relatively old song, but the F______ of the other Joel played it the last day in which we lived in Orlando (this was the second time I lived there), and so the song got embossed in my brain, along with the moment: It was dark, obviously, and we were all packing; I had a CD of Celine Dion playing, and Joel said: "lets play some going-away music", and he changed it. Its something unpredictable, but in the end is right, i hope you had the time of your live... I remember Matt (my other roommate) saying something like: "Oh, that's wrong".

Another:
Anything country, but hardcore-country (thank God that doesn't play here) reminds me of Nick (the other Disney roommate), and reminds me of the time we went to buy one-dollar double cheeseburgers at Mcdonald's. He changes the radio station to country music, and I say: "you like that?", he says yes, and I go: "but it so... country", and he goes: "well, I'm from the country". And then, they gave us the burgers.

And last one:
The Carol of the Bells, I don't know who played this Christmas song first, but it always reminds me of the movie Home Alone 2, the one were the kid is alone in New York... And it reminds me that I narrated the whole thing, the WHOLE thing in detail (from the Ho ho ho Plan, to the birds at the end) to my friend (Edgar) in elementary school. Elementary School!!! Dang. 1992?

Ok, I must stop, because I'll never end. Specific songs (even reggeaton, yes) remind me of specific people (anything Shakira reminds me of Alexandra, for example). Songs that I have forgotten, when I hear them again they will slap me with memories, and with the places that I haven't been at anymore, and with the moments that will never happen again... It is sad, but it is also pleasant... to know that there was and there is people to share them with.

Disney World, Second Home

It was around this date last year that I was starting to say goodbye to fantasy (or reality?) And I yearn it back.
Here's the Magic Kingdom in all glory, behind a heap of people, against a whoosh of white cluods under bright blue skies.
I have a thing for signs, and so this one is of the (read the sign) which is the garden under the hugeamongous shade of the tree in Animal Kingdom, of course. It's easy to get lost in this garden. So grab children by the hand, and keep your arms and legs inside (your pockets?) at all times...
The Tangerine Café at Epcot, interesting Morrocan "fast" food, it was oddly good, contrary to what many may say. I ate there on the first month I was in Orlando, it was february and it was cold and rainy. The Tangerine Café was the first place to shelter from freezing water pouring from the sky, and so we were in Epcot to eat something exotic (probably japanese), but we only got to Morroco, and we had humus, lamb topped with a sweet and sour white sauce, sweet rice (it had raisins) and a very spicy hot picadillo, like mexican chunky salsa, but it was green, and sesame bread, all for the VERY modest (note the sarcasm) price of 10 dollars+tax+drink (no employee discount on fast food, dang it!).
And Epcot. Home. Epcot became home very early when I arrived. I worked there, so that was most of the "why". But it also has the best food, and the best places to take pictures. It is not as exciting as Animal Kingdom (or any of the other parks) but it has the best fireworks and the best location. Anyway, I liked it.

An Afternoon at the Supermarket (or Sam's)

Hello all. Still fighting with the stupid myspace. But, for now, something "diary-like", just for the sake of keeping a "true" blog. A true story.

The other day, I woke up very early (if early means 10 AM or 11, "very early" therefore means 8:00 AM). Very early indeed. I had to go to an interview in the freaking ass of this country, well, not really the ass, just somewhere far. The "interview" (I'll explain the quotations momentarily) was for a job as an editor. The interview really wasn't an interview, it was more of a test, they made me do an essay from the top of my head on a random topic, altho it wasn't really random, everyone had to write about it. So, I've never been into the ass of this country, so, even tho I woke up early, I still was late finding the (insert your curse word here) place. And there weren't any computers there to do the essay, because I was 20 minutes late. But, if there were no computers available at 10:20, and I was supposed to use it for hour and a half at least, so that computer would have been scheduled for someone for hour and a half, why was there someone else on it? I didn't understand. (hopefully u understood that last rhetorical question, if not, buy a map). And so, I waited, being the passive-aggressive, obsssessssive-compulsive that I am, being the patient human that I am, again, I waited. And waited. And waited. I got my revenge tho, everybody left, and I started my essay and the person in charge had to wait thru lunch time for me to finish. Don't get me wrong, I try to be nice to everyone, and I didn't want to just do that to that person, I just couldn't leave, and come back, I had to wait, because I had a schedule, and schedules are not to be broken when you freaking wake up VERY early at eight in the morning. And so, I finished the essay at ONE o'clock, and I hurried not because I was fond of the girl there, but because I was very hungry and I had to pee. Hopefully the essay/"interview" is good enough.

So then I had lunch at the worst Church's Chicken. Didn't finish my Pechusandwich (chicken sandwich for the hispanically-impaired), didn't finish my coleslaw, nor my sprite, the only good thing was the mashed potatoes, except for the nasty gravy.

After that I went back home. Following a random conversation with my father:
-I have a friend whose last name is spelled G-e-l-l. (All of this in Spanish, of course) How do you pronounce that in English?
-Like "gel". (as hair gel)
-But he says it is like "hell".
-Well, because G in Spanish sounds like H in English.
-But then, he should call himself "gel".
-No, because his name Gell is in Spanish, not English.

After that I almost fell asleep when he pressured me, with the help of my mother to go to the supermarket, meaning SAM's. Why? Why, of course, to push the extremely broken shopping carts. Out of the eight hundred and twenty six thousand two hundred and fifteen carts we had to get ONE that steered to the left on its own. Anyway, so, first, come the usual "come fill this form and get your sam's club credit card and we will give you this awesome thermos" shit. I distinctively and dissmisively and almost disgustedly shook my head in negation (redundacy right there). The lady finally said: "it's free". I walked away, not looking back: "keep your free shit, you're not getting me, not now, nor never". But when I looked back, she had my mother on her paws. *Joel rolls eyes and stares at the flat tv screens*. Yeap, they were playing The Shaggy Dog, seemed like a neat, but unmemorable movie.

So we head towards the detergents. And suddenly I hear coos. But not baby coos. No. Bird coos. There were turtledoves (tórtolas) on the roof of the huge warehouse. On the INSIDE. And I thought, "hmm, interesting, I wonder how they feed". And my imagination ran wild picturing the employees hunting the birds with the rifles from the gun aisle (altho there is no gun aisle, but still). I also knew that it was just a matter of time when the worst would happen.

We were supposed to get emergency stuff, totally needed things. We ended up with 2 full shopping carts (the second one, even more screwed up than the first, I even compared it to a rodeo bull.... yeah, it was that bad). So, I have to stop and say that I deterred from my duties as cart pusher in two moments of the early evening, the first when we went thru the spices aisle. There's just something about spices in cups that draws my attention. To think that there is so much flavor to savor inside them. And to see the translations of the spices: Cumin=Comino, Basil Leaves=Albahaca, Bay Leaves=hojas de Laurel, Anís=Aniseed, now I know what Emeril is talking about on his cooking show. I also wonder what they (americans) have for Adobo, if there is such a thing outside Puerto Rico (I didn't find it in Orlando, surely you can, tho). Adobo is like a seasoning, or essence for meats, poultry, and fish (and whatever else for that matter) just so we're clear. And then, that's when it happened. Plap! I heard it. Clear. Like spit from a very high window on the sidewalk. One of the birds shat. Thankfully it fell 2 feet away from me, so I was lucky. I knew then that I had to keep moving, not to keep myself in the same position for too long... The second time I deterreded from my duties, was when I went to the electronics area (again), which is also next to the book area. Why are there so many religious books and self-help in SAM'S??? Why? So many bibles, it seemed illegal, even blasphemous... Anyway, I found the latest Stephen King book (CELL) at a cheaper price than when I got it at Borders... damn it, and the hardcover Harry Potter, also cheaper than when I bought it at the Orlando International Airport. Sniff. I want to go back to Orlando..... Ok, I digressed a little there. Although the digression was founded in the fact that this story is almost over, because after that nothing eventful happened, except that ONE lobster tail was 27 dollars! (the pound was 26, and this one was like, what?, a pound and a gram?) I don't even have to say that we didn't dine fine that night. And, yeah, we bought no sugar added bite-sized candies (cakes, brownies, cookies), which are not that bad, I have to admit. And that's it. OOh, wait! I saw a poster of the Laguna beach cast where the clothes were. They have their own brand now? WTF.

So that was my day, the other day. Oh, no, wait! After that, I got this mega-ultra-super-hyper-head-ache that had me squirming in my bed and speaking in tongues (probably French). (blasphemous! I say, blasphemous!) Ok, I need to go.

On How I Lost to a Min

I have a friend. His name is Min. I call him Mean Min. The reasons for that are more than obvious, but also because he is kinda mean, although he really doesn't know it.

Unusual name right. Why does he have that name? (I bet you are wondering...) Well, because he's Korean. (Ooooh. I can see your expressions of understanding (just like the little aliens in Toy Story when they see... The Claw!) (uuuuu)). So yes, he is Korean. I've never heard him say anything in Korean, although I have never asked either. I've seen him write it tho, and he looks asian, so I believe him.

The purpose of this post is to state that I underestimated him. Yes. I thought he wouldn't stand a chance when I played some chess with him. I was wrong. I got beat eighty thousand times, until I finally gave up and said, "I never want to play with you again, you be mean, Min". And that's how I lost to a Min.

This post ends here, I don't want to give more details on that failure...

The Garbage Truck Story Intro and STORY

(This parenthesis was added after the whole post was written: the following is "The Garbage Truck Story Intro")

In what may seem like heaps of ages, I have not seen the garbage truck taking the garbage from the garbage cans, which are in the garbage compartment, out in the front of my house.

The other night I saw it.

Well, it was not night, it was dark, but it was 4:fifty-something AM. What was I doing up at that time? Well, I happened to wake up because I was very thirsty. I think I was dreaming that I was in the Grand Theft Auto game again, killing a lot of people, and it must have been very exhausting... So I woke up and hear these heavy thumps. Bung, bung! "What the hell". I go to the kitchen, drink my water, and as I do, I peer through the curtains, and there they are: the garbage people, picking up the trash with the horrendous garbage truck eating it... It is so early! Why do they do this so early? I think it was Monday or Tuesday... Are garbage people ashamed of what they're doing? They must get pretty good money. Are they hiding in the darkness? Or do they do it so early as to protect us, mortals, from the horrificatios of the garbage truck?

I remember seeing this truck every week when I was in High School. Nasty little shit. A huge platform comes out of the dark, sticky, fetid, putrid bowels of the truck, and it covers the trash bags, and sweeps them up into its unholy, unwordy (unmentionable), endless place inside. That place must be bottomless, seriously. How does it keep so much rubbish in? When do people know that the truck has had enough for one morning?

(this parenthesis was added after the whole post was written: The following is the unedited STORY: "The Garbage Truck", enjoy)

The men whistle at each other giving commands in the silence of the coming sunrise. They cling to the edges of the truck; heavily gloved hands. The truck thumps once more, as if belching, as if swallowing, as if food was passing thru its esophagus, as if it were chewing. Then men don't mind this. As they feed the metal beast. The flies buzz around its mouth. The hinges cringe, and echoes through the windows of unsuspecting neighbors. The men are used to the unruly stench coming from the truck's mouth, which clunks heavily in its entrails, a dark echo of an endless pit; one of the men whistles andthe driver gets the animal moving along the dimly lit sidewalks of the suburb. The men hang on its sides, as if it were a trolley, they're on their way to make the truck puke, at a confined, secluded place as to spare the people who sleep from the nastiness that comes from their carelessness.

The end

Hmm. I got inspired there. I shall title that (of course): The garbage truck.

Oh, almost forgot, I drank my water and went back to sleep. How anticlimactic.

Am I Puertorican?

Mc Donald's
San Patricio Plaza
5:00 PM
Wednesday 10, 2006

Joel watches the value menu from a safe distance. After a minute, the guy in the registers says: "buenas tardes". And Joel nods as to make reference that he has not made a choice yet. There was no one at the register. The guy is now speaking to a girl co-worker. Joel slowly approaches the counter and overhears something she says about the guy's eyes; Joel dismisses this and says "hola". "Hola", they say. And that's when he notices the guy has the clearest of gray eyes. Which was probably what the girl was praising of him.

Joel orders.
"4.39", the guy says.

Joel waits, absentmindedly for his food. He is watching (without really seeing) the kitchen, he is thinking of random stuff. He is probably dreaming of getting the job as a designer, to which he just had an interview for. He is carrying an art tube with some works rolled inside. When the guy at the register says something:

"Are you studying architecture?"
"No. These are just some graphic works, xylographies".
"Ok", the guy says.

A pause. Joel starts dreaming again of working in the awesome graphic design office on the sixth floor the newest building in the area (so new, that it hasn't been completly built yet). When the guy says:

"Are you Puertorican?"
"Yes, I am", Joel says.
"It's just that you have a different accent".
Joel then smiles as he goes on another trip: It has not been the first time someone had asked Joel if he is Puertorican. When he was in Orlando some people didn't believe him until he spoke Spanish. And when he was working as a waiter in Plaza las Américas, lots of people would ask the same thing, even his boss asked him. Apparently Joel has a south-american accent, or maybe a north-american accent, people can't really point it out (except of course "Joel, are you Argentinian?"). Finally Joel, laughs.
"It's true", the guy says.
"People are always saying that", Joel says humbly, as his food is delivered, and he takes off.


So, am I really Puertorican? Or am I an addopted child from the edges of the Amazon river. The world may never know. See you next time for another episode of the... Twilight Zone. Tuninuuu.

The Shameless Petition of a Weird Stranger or The Sweaty, Whoreish-Looking Girl Who Supposedly Knew Me

The other night I was at the Universtity at some event (which is unimportant right now). The event was over; people were leaving, others were watching some B-boys' improvised aftershow (after a while, they too stopped and left). I was waiting for my friends, which were missing in action, when this whoreish-looking girl came up to me. How whoreish? Well, you see, I'm very judgemental (I know, bad Joel, but I can't really help it), and since I am (very judgemental) I judged her by the way she looked. Ok, here's the detailed (prejudiced) description of her: tall, she wore a red tank top, that glittered and that covered her until just above her bellybutton, letting it be seen her voluptuous figure. Her jeans were tight and pressed her huge hips and ass. She had overdeveloped lips (which looked fake) painted with overbright red, which also glittered. Her hair was unmemorable (some kind of fake blond that was all messed up, I don't remember quite), and she was sweating profusely, (that place was hot, but not as hot as someone would think if you saw her). So, I wouldn't even have judged her had she not come up to me (I wouldn't even have looked at her twice, for that matter) (I sound so mean). So, I had just got my cellphone (it was vibrating with a call) out of my pocket when she smiled at me and saluted as if I was an old friend.
"Hiiiii, how are you?"
And in my head I'm like: who the fuck is this?
"Hi?", I said with almost the same amount of enthusiasm but with question in the tone.
"How are you? It has been so long...
"¿Ah, Sí?" (I had to write it Spanish).
"I know you don't recognize me, but I know you...", and here she was looking for the excuse or the story of how she knew me, she stammered, "I know you, I know you from, from... for your hair, long like that, I know you from passing by at the university.
And I'm like: "Oh, really?", I also thought to say something like: "Well, I've been living in the US for the past seven years, so that can't possibly be true", just to see what she would say, but I didn't, opportunity lost, minus one point for me.
"Yes, yes".
"Well, I don't think I recall you at all".
"But I know you, I know you. *smiled whorishly* I was wondering if you could lend me your cellphone to make an emergency call". And that's when I was certain that she just wanted something from me. People always say it is an emergency call.
"Well, if you wait 'til after I answer this call...", I said, with the idea of staying on the phone for 15 minutes, but the person who called me hung up after asking me some random question, and I cannot just keep a one person conversation, I can't, not on the phone. So... I lent the phone to the girl. She dialed, she waited, she gave her back to me, she never spoke, she looked at me waiting for her rings to be picked up by someone, the look was of feign pain (or maybe it was true preoccupation, I just wasn't going to give in to any other of her request, the next thing she was going to say is to ask me for money).
"This is bad", she said.
"What is?", I asked.
"Not to find someone to pick you up".
"Oh", I said, and in my mind: she's gonna want me to give her a ride.
"Can you help me?"
I did as if I didn't hear her, she handed me my phone.
"What?", I said.
"Can you help me to take the train?"
"What?", I said, still feigning deaf-ness.
"Can you help me with some money for the train?"
I KNEW IT.
"Well, I only have my train card", which was true, the other money I had was in my ATM.
But she reached the peak of shamelessness with her next question.
"Well, I could leave with you then, I think two people can pass the train gates with one card. Or can they?"
"Yes", I said, "But I'm not leaving on the train tonight, my friends are taking me", which was also true.
I was waiting for her to ask me to ask my friends to give her a ride, but I guess she reached as high as she could on dignity and said:
"Oh".
I pressed my lips in a sign of compassion. Her long gone smiles changed into something that I couldn't really pinpoint, I didn't know if she was really pissed for not getting something out of me, or if she was really worried that no one was going to pick her up.
"Well... thanks anyway", she said.
"Good luck", I said. And she never looked back. And I didn't get any remorse.

I be mean.

The Trees Attack Again!

The trees attack again. This time, it was not raining, it was as sunny and unclouded as it could ever be. (If you want to read their first attack, click here).

Last Saturday I went to the university because I had to take the PAEG (now called EXADEP, which is the equivalent of the GRE but bilingual). I had to be there at seven thirty AM, because the test started at 8. SEVEN AM!! So much time has past since I last got up from bed before 8 AM. Ok. So, I set the alarm for 6:30. I went to bed at 3:30 AM. The alarm sounded as if only 15 minutes of sleep had passed. I hit snooze. Seven minutes later I hit snooze again. Seven more. Snooze. It is now 6:44. Snooze. Snooze. I finally got out of bed at almost 7:00 o'clock. Rushed to get dressed and brush teeth. 7:10. Grabbed a peach yogurt that was in the fridge and ran out. RAN out. I walk for two minutes, when I sense something missing. Fuck. Money and the train card. So I had to run back. I finally closed the door of my house at 7:17, calculated the time from there to the train station: "I should be there by 7:30, I HAVE to be there by 7:30". In the meantime, I was praying in my head, "please God, hold the train until 7:35, but no later than that, please please". So I was trotting all the way, gulping the yogurt, on the itchy morning sun (have you notice that the morning sun when it hits you it itches for some reason?, or maybe it's me, hmm). One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, walking fast, half way I check my cellphone, I'm still on time, 7:22. Finally, the moment of more weariness arrived. It was the moment when the train was visible from a distance. My head was a split screen:

please, please, please, please, | The train passes every seven
don't let it pass now, don't let | minutes, so, if it started at 7:00
me see it pass by, please God, | next train should be at 7:35
hold it until I get there". | hopefully, hopefully.

So, I accelerated my pace even more, almost ran. A guy was selling hotdogs on the sidewalk (he is new, he settled there a week ago), so I walked again, as to not be branded as: "the guy who was running this morning". But after he was out of sight, it was also out of mind, and I ran. Yes, this time I ran. If I missed this train, chances were high that I was going to be denied the privilege (if it is a privilege, which I think more of as an obligation) of taking the stupid exam.

I arrive to the station. Winded. I take the card out. And still pray in my head: "please, God, I'm still not on the platform, hold it one more minute". Because, it has happened that the train arrives as I'm sliding the card, and it leaves right after I climb the stairs and step onto the platform (and have to wait seven, or 13 minutes for the next). My head was playing jokes on me because I heard the screeching of the wheels as the train stops, but it was just in my head. The moving banner said: "El próximo tren hacia Sagrado Corazón llegará en 5 minutos". Five minutes! Thank God! I checked the clock again, 7:27.

I took the train. I made another calculation, the train arrived at 7:32, it takes 20 minutes to get to school. I shall be there by 7:52, with 8 minutes to hurry through campus. I couldn't read in the train as I often do. I was too hot and too preoccupied. I only fanned myself with a piece of paper and watched the landscape.

Two more stops. The train goes underground. One more stop. Yes. Arrived. Time: 7:52, "Dang, I'm good!". Left or right? Left station exit is a longer way, because I'd have to go around the library and museum, etc. So, right it is. Now, follow the longest, highest, most heavenly looking electric staircase ever in the history of electric staircases. It is huge, and long, and the ceiling is glass, so morning sun goes through. My legs were weary from all the walking, so I just let the steps carry me to the top. I had 8 minutes, I'll get there. I get out of the station, turn on the corner and the University gate is closed! Nooooooo! No no no no nooo! See, that is not the principal gate, that's why it was closed, I always forget that they close it on Saturdays. So, I ran aaaall the way to the other entrance (which is also the left entrance of the train station), ran all the way around the museum, and the library. And then I gave up. "Fuck, damnit!". I kept walking, it was 8:01, kept walking, and got to the building, I had to go to the second floor. A guy was there, he asked: "For the test?", I said excitedly: "Yes!", "Second floor at the end of the hall". A ray of hope sanctified me. I ran up. Ran down the hall. And there they were. Everyone, sitting, waiting. And I, at 8:05, was one time. Phew.

The test was horrible. Grandiose words (in Spanish) that I had never heard before (falaz, oprobio) held me back. And the math part had 40 question to answer in 30 minutes... who the hell resolves mathematical problems in 45 seconds? WHO! And I, that I haven't taken any math since the year 2000, was in a bad disadvantage. I'm not saying any more.

The exam took until almost 1:30 PM. And I decided to go back home and crash like a, like a crasher... And that's when it happened. A tree attacked me. The sun was high in the midday sky, (which for some reason felt really good on the skin, which, by the way, that's how people get sunburn, or sunpoisoned, or sunbaked in the first place, I remember when I looked like a lobster once, my skin was so hard like roasted chicken, hard and red like a lobster shell, and it pinched every time someone touched it, or everytime I lay back. Never leave yourself thrown on the sand on the beach, the sun will hypnotize you and make you fall asleep and then eat you!). So, as I was saying, the sun was full of life. The air was fresh, the university was not at all crowded, the wind blew rather hard. I was walking like a zombie, slow and steady, drinking a Pepsi (stupid vending machine, I pressed Iced Tea and Pepsi came out, bitch), and I said: "ooh, I'll walk under this enormous shade that this tree has". Shouldn't have done it. The wind blew so hard that the leaves rustled, and a series of little yellow flowers fell like snow (and you all should know that I've NEVER seen snow, but I imagine it), they fell like snow, some slowly, like feathers and others like little pebbles, it didn't hurt, but they got into my soda! They wanted to poison me. And then, the biggest blow, a branch! I hear a crack, and the next moment a small branch fell on my shoulder. Ow. It wasn't that bad, really, but this is the second time that trees attack me. I guess I will think it very thoroughly to visit that Sequoia forest... a sequoia branch will definitely split me in half.

I went back to the train. Slept all the way. Zombie-walked home. Went by the hotdog guy, surely they were thinking things about me, I was too tired and too zombievified to care and to imagine... 25 minutes later I was home. 10 minutes later I was dreaming of sex.