Goodbye, dear 2007...

No, I didn't do it. Because I didn't want to. Better, I stayed awake watching terror stories in the TV... I guess that untill I have my grapes in the hand (or in the mouth) I won't realize that year is changing.
Anyway, after writting yesterday's post, I realized that uch of the examination and balance has already been done (therefore my nocturne ociosity).
It all boils up to 2007 has changed my life.
I've changed the way I see a lot of things and people. It has relativized many things I never dared to relativize. I have rediscovered things I don't want to become and I have understand others that I am, and I have also seen what I want to become. I have find some thing that I can do, and others that others can do.

I've cleared the last big lie, and now I have all the reasons I've always wanted to be a unforgivable cynic. I have checked a lot of my theories and I've changed some, I've decided that some day, I will compile them in a book.

I've been disappointed as I had never been, and I hace one more seen that although I easily forgive, I can't forget. The truth is that it doesn't bother me, cicles close, people change, although only to become more like themselves. Maybe is that exactly what's happening with me. And probably not to forget is the best remedy not to commmit the same errors again.

I've learnt in 2007 as much as in the previous 26 years, and this is the positive sight. Something very important has disappeared forever, and that's the negative one. I expect this year that beggins will bring something positive to fix this. If it doesn't... patience. However, I've got the feeling that 2008 will be a great year.

Time of peace, love and joy...

And I was thinking that these holidays would be useful to order my life (bloggerly speaking and more), and the truth is that it was just and ad (at least it wasn't a mystical parfum ad). The holidays, at least in my case, are only to confuse more those who are already confused because in their normal lifes they are too busy to order their ideas. Or maybe the problem is that I'm practical when I'm busy, because my talent is that natural ability to priorize and simplify, but when I have some free time, I forget to priorize and I get stuck in the middle of a knot of files that are thoughts.
Why, if don't have any inmediate worry? Because when you don't have natural and normal worries, you find these others that were aside, and that are happy enough to be found.

Because these Christmas are not what I expected, although I should be already used to it, because life is what happens when you are planning something different (quote qith different fathers, so I quote it as I want), and I still don't know why.
- I don't feel like its is Christmas, Mr. Policeman... it all begun with those angels in the Reforma, that seemed to be hanged...

Tonight I'll try to do some examination of my conscience, in order to write a resumèe of the year tomorrow 31st. I know what scheme it will follow: it's a disbalanced year, with some very positives and some very negatives, that are forcing me to change my direction in a strange turn I didn't considered this time last year. This is determining my New Year's Proposals... let's do this change of direction as sweet and elegant as possible, Mr. Spok.

And maybe, better than doing any examination (specially of conscience!!), I'd like to be in the preparty tonight... but something cannot be and besides are impossible.

Various presentations

Almost, almost... in seven hours, I'll be in the plane to Spain... hm, how happy. I've got the baggage almost done, the office drivers are taking me to the airport... I've managed to pay the change penalty of the ticket... I wonder what will be wrong, because normal trips don't exist.
Well, the bunch of Spanish that will be in the plane is not normal enough. Between three and four, we will be all there in the airport, I guess we will be able to make a party with the Penedés wine by courtesy of Iberia (or something finer for those flying in bussines. Nota bene: Remember to pass the Iberia card, I've got almost ten thousand points...).

But I wasn't writting to say this, really. I wanted to speak about spam mails, those that are strange chains... this week I've received to limit examples. The ones that I receive from people from work already fed me up emoguh, and don't usually don't opne them. But about this issue, we could have a discussion about the nature of my office and if its a cultural thing, at least to a certain extend, and therefore I should be more respectful or not (for example, when I am told that there are two guys that cure people from cancer by only making them eat raw food...). I'm usually more attracted about those coming from Europe.

You can already find in Facebook the same messages that used to arrive in hotmail some time ago: Hotmail is closing down!!!!! Send this email to all your contacts (don't mind if you have a few) to stop them closing!!! But, let's see... if you send, let's say, three hundred emails like this, of course they are closinf, because you are going to fill the servers with junk!! Fortunately, arrived to the ground the allmighty Google qith its evergrowing accounts, and all this mails stopped (anyway, I'm waiting someday: Google is closing down!!!). Facebook is supposed to be closing because there's a lot of people without photo... I do encourage all of you to complete your profiles, not because they are closing (they are making serious bussines over there), but because it is a good network to which be connected (andanyway, google already knows all our data.. some people more won't hurt). I've had some cuorious running into's... I that have this shepard soul, love to know where people is and what they are doing, and it makes easier to find common friends. Although, the facebook friends could be enough for another post, I think.

The other spam mail that I have received has been much more gruesome and has bothered me much more. Silly me, I've opened it against my own rule. It was a presentation with photos of a car accident with the aim of sensibilizating about how dangerous is to drink and drive. I do agree in the message, but not in the form. First, the accident shown is not an alcohol accident, at least not in the circumstances described in the presentation, because the text speaks about a party in the night and the accident is in broad daylight. Further, there are no two cars, as it says, there's only one, under a truck. Besides an stupid and melodramatic text (of course, with a terrific grammar and syntax), there's a moment in which the photographer arrives to the supposed driver of the car, of course very very severed if not dead. The lack of respect that this photo means is outrageous. And it's not only the fact of taking it, but afterwards using it in a presentation! And sending it to a bunch of unknown people!! With the tragic tone of the text, the stupid who wrote the text could maybe have though that, besides that the girl loves her family a lot, the last thing she wants to see in this world is not a asshole taking pictures of her dying. On the other hand, the photos are moved, I expect the photographer was punched in the liver when taking them.
And I don't want to think in the girl's family.
I remember a post by Pilimindrina (unfortunately, she abandonned her blog long ago, at least with this name) in which her spoke about her best friend, who had died in a car accident. A photographer had taken a photo, and his mother had seen it. It's not that you are respecting or not some one's death, but the pain you can cause to the person's family. This free pain is big enough not to take this kind of photos. But no, they do it. And they use them in presentations that go around the world. i haven't seen it till the end, I hope at the end it doesn't say: "send it to eight hundred friends or you will suffer the same luck"

Conclusion: The lack of respect for people is outrageous. How can world go better if people don't recognize the other as people ans not just as things...


And to close, let's return to the merry tone of the beggining. I wanted to leave you with a doc, but I can't find it. While I look for it, I leave you with the promise of finding it... about all the things that could close if you don't forward it.
The next post, from la piel de toro.

The man that magazines describe

Is that man that automatically causes scepticism and defense, because it can't be happening to me, is like Meg Ryan's films. Because on has, in spite of all, in some moment of uncertainty, bought and read one of those stupid magazines that explain how to think and what rimmel to use. And thus one knows that the information contained there is not trustworthy at all.
Then, one runs into someone that seems to accomplish al requeriments, even the most strange ones that boil down from the tests ("Is him your ideal man? Find it oout in five minutes), and instead of feeling the awesome and marvel of the moment, starts looking for the hidden camera.
According to Cosmo, the ideal man is kind, listens to you (and even remembers things which may not interest him that much), takes care of himself, but not more than you, goes well along with your friends without flirting, is nice enough to tell you how beautiful you look (also when is not true) and speaks about your multiple qualities, he is there when you've had an awful day (and also to be cuttled when he has had an awful day and you feel like mothering him)... and besides, is cute.
To be honest, since I found out that George Clooney lives with a pork, I had lost hope on the existence of this compendium of socalled perfections... and now, I examine quite carefully whoever might seem to have them. Another favour has done to the world... rising mistrust so much...
Or maybe Cosmo has nothing to do with it, and I've had too much of this thing for the cold. Anyway, here start my New Year Resolutions:
In 2008, whenever someone seems to have all these characteristics, I won't look for defects... (they will come up anyway by themselves!)
All Cosmopolitan without alcohol are banned from Lilithland.
And so are al Meg Ryan films, except in the cases prescripted by the law.

Sunday night...

...and I am coming from another special weekend.Last week was a complete madness, including up and downs. It remembered me the description that my beloved friend Oshidori once made of Lord of the Rings: war, war, war, elves, war, war, races, battles, eleves... but in my case it was more like: report, data, report, Italians, report, battle, report, Italians... and so on. But it ended, as everything does in this world, either good or bad. Let's see what brings next week. Probably, a lot of work... but I've had my part.Friday, strange expats party, from which some details will be long remembered, as the plans to travel to NYC, for example, o the phone numbers that were exchanged: what the hell means when one gets the number of all gays present in a party? Saturday in Antigua, speaking about everything and having a nice tour (another frustrated vocation) in my adoption country... and a Sunday with SouthAmerican bbq, recipes exchange included, and with punch instead of sangría. The day ended up with George in the cinema. He is not that cute in his last film, but is always interesting to see him.
Michael Clayton, a mix between The Firm and Erin Brokovich with some mystical touches here and there and an awesome photography. The only thing I've positively not liked is the title: I'd have chosen Realm and Conquer, I reckon).Now I need to finish with the photos, which are accumulated in my cameras (indeed, since I haven't organized them, I cannot harash people by mail in order to get the ones I miss), and go to bed with a nice book, tomorrow is Monday. As per general dinamics, Christmas is dangerously near... and so is the deadline for buying presents (fortunately, I have found a wonderful shop for a couple things I still need), and I'm looking forward going home (it may seem untrue, but the El Almendro ad seems so beautiful now...). It is also the moment to close 2007 in several senses, including my annual photo file. It's not only tiding up the digital photos, which is already a titanic effort, but I should also print a lot of the others.Besides, as I have already said in other post, a few days or months ago (don't ask when, I'm a little lost in the blog), it's time to do an overview of the year. However, in this occasion, I think that I've already made an inconcious annual plan for 2008. The other day, chatting around, I discovered that my odd synthesis ability had already discovered the kay points of what 2007 has meant to me and what do I want for 2008 to mean. The motto for this concience exercise is still to be chosen, dear readers:
- Sometimes you are just standing in front of your destiny and don't notice it
- When tress doesn't allow you to see the wood (I don't like this one that much, it seems a autohelp book).
- I'm short-sighted, it's not at all my fault if I didn't see it coming.

Anyway, this is a crucial moment in my life, I know it. This year I've felt a vocation, and a sense for a lot of the things I do. I've discovered that there are a lot of things that I liked that I can't stand now, and viceversa. I've closed the last grand interrogant and I've stop lying myself about one important thing or two. I might have lost someone important, but I've found myself. Not bad, since the quest started two years ago. At last, I don't have one foot in each side of Lilithland.
And the very best part is that I feel next year will be better. The positive energy runs through my veins. So much energy, that I already have some notes in my new calendar, in the wall. And now, I leave you with the marketplace in Guatemala's Zona 1, not that bad...

Lilithian adventures, it's been so long since the last time

I've just noticed that I was so busy and so angry last times, that I didn't told you in this forum my back travel from Europe... Actually this blog (or better, it's Spanish version) is full of odd stories about travels in general and airtravels in particular... like that time I was almost left because of that stupid Alitalia stewardress, o when they won't let me in teh aircraft in Paris, I guess because I look as a terrorist or something...

But until know, I haven't spoken of this particular back trip... The problem starts when you arrive to the T4 not knowing that instead of flying with Iberia (poor things, since now own, whenever I hear something against them, I will always defend them from American Airlines, Alitalia and even Lufthansa!), you will fly with American Airlines, because you're not flying direct to Guate, but passing through Miami (and you're not receiveing bonus). Indeed I think after this travel, I've almost forgiven Iberia for having me waiting twelve hours in Fiumicino (two summers ago, so long!)... almost.

The check in queue, which with Iberia longs at max twenty minutes, with American takes about an hour. Why? Because they hay very little efficient people in charge of asking questions as border agents (while they are not)... they even check out where you have been before. You cooperate just because you're good willing, and because you don't want to spend any more time there, before getting to the plane. The strange interrogation, then, goes on and you discover two things:
a) miss American is interested, strangely interested on why you were in Paris (I was in León too, and you haven't asked, it's EU as much as Paris; are they frightened that I might run away from the plane and start burning out all Miamis banlieux?)
b) the so called interrogation is just a serial of stupid questions to which, besides, cannot attend the kindest person that brought you to the airport, because she might answer in your place (i don't doubt there are loads of unnpolite people around...)

So, the so called interrogations proceeds, then:

Ms. American: When did you buy your suitcase, ma'am? (I hate when they call you ma'am without feeling it!)
Me: Hm, I don't know, this summer.
Thinking: Look, 12th June 1934. I don't know, and what's the matter... do they don't accept pre 9/11 suitcases in USA?

Ms. American: Do you have any sharp object in the suitcase?
Me: Nope.
Thinking: Yes, I've a knife thirty centimetres long, but don't worry, it's fast wrapped in my underwears.

Ms: Do you have any explosives in you suitcase?
Me: Sorry? No!
Thinking: Ooops, I forgot, let me take them out before doing the checkin...

Ms. American: When was the last time you saw your suitcase?
Me (here I cannot avoid it): Actually, I'am seeing it right now.
Ms. American: No, I mean open.
Me: Ah, ok. This morning.
Thinking: Now, this one in interesting, everybody closes their suitcases before getting into the car? O maybe most people closes it after? I'm sure there's some supersmart guy in the CIA who has designed this infallible test. I reckon they should fire him.

Ms. American: And since then, you've been seeing it?
Me: Not while it was in the trunk.
Thinking: It's wrapped in these plastics, even if I had not been taking care of it, no one could have put anything inside... besides, I've been staring it while I was waiting in this stupid queue.

Ms. American: Why do fly to Guatemala?
Me: I live there.
Ms. American: Are you resident?
Me: Not yet, I work there.
Ms. American: Thank you very much, please proceed to that counter.
Thinking: I expect they won't ask again about the suitcase!!

But they didn't ask about my baggage. They asked about mny return ticket. Because that was my return trip, and as European without visa, I did need a return ticket within 90 days. That I happened to have (courtesy by ICEX). But the stewardress in the counter didn't know that.
Of course, as usual, the stewardress in the counter was very nice to me, because she's already used to pissed-off-because-of-previous-stupid-questions clients. But her boss is as stupid as the mentioned questions. I exposed the issue to the stewardress: See, I am not resident, but I do have a return ticket with Iberia, and so. She couldn't acced to my booking, as it was not confirmed, so she asks me vey kindly "please to go to Iberia counter and get some copy of the booking". When everything's almost solved, the stupid one shows up and says the magic sentence: They are not going to let you in Miami, and you will have to buy us a ticket. I close slowly my eyes and I aight while I think...
First of all, honey: You bet a bottle of goog wine (although you'd never recognise a good wine) that they let me perfectly in in Miami because, in any case, my inmigration problem would be in Guatemala? and second: You bet that I won't buy a ticket with AA in the rest of my life?
... and say: Nope. I'm going to Iberia to get my ticket.
I think even she understands that I am not afraid.

In Iberia, another professional and kind stewardress explains that although they don't ask for the ticket always, they should check that people travelling have appropriate documents. And I think again: but, in Miami they don't care if Ia have problems with inmigration in Guatemala, I bet! With a smile and her Adolfo Dominguez' uniform she prints my copy with which I finally can do my check in, without any other stupid intervention. Fortunately, because I'm starting to be pisse off myself. Neither breakfast with the Legal Drugs Dealer, nor stroll in duty free area (Will I ever see this Zara shop?), nor anything... besides, I have to cross the airport till the T4S, which is more or less in Zaragoza.
And Barajas, easy as anyone can imagine: Sunday, the airport completely packed up and there are only three security check points, instead of six or seven. I t takes almost another hour to cross the security chekcing, and that makes less than ten minutes to arrive to the boarding gate...

I cross the airport running as fast as I can (and that's sadly not that much, especially with a computer and a bag), I arrive without breathing to the gate and I board the plane, I think I'm the last. Fortunately, my sit neightbour doesn't want to chat, so I turn on the iPod and put my mind on breathing again and waiting for lunch to sleep... 5 dollars for a tiny alcoholic drink!! I always ask for wine to sleep better...

Several hours after, including catnaps and an awful film (The trick; extra not recommended), we land on the Miami International Airport, where stupideness continues. Already since the plane thay explain what we should do, which is mainly, get off the satellite terminal, inmigrate, take the baggage, check in again and look for the new boarding door. I think: Three hours should be ok for that, ain't it?

After an hour and a quarter in the inmigration queue, I correct myself: Hm, maybe three hours is not that much... One hour and a half, I arrive to the police officer (after being sure that mine in the slowest queue) and he says to me: shift change, the officer is coming right now.
- Noooooooooo.... Three hours are not enough...
The officer comes, he takes my photo and two fingerprints (but not randomly, the index fingers). I'm not asked any stupid questions (finally!) and I pass thorugh. Mentally, I've won the bottle of good wine). I run out, were my baggage waits since half an hour ago (unique chance to thieves). I fight two guys who try to convince me that my suitcase in in the belt while I can see it in the corner ("escuse me, ma'am, the african american guy is the only one to speak to me in English). I take it, run to the exit and discover that I don't need to check in again (yeah, great!! not a single more stupid question!). I just have to leave abandoned my baggage in the hand of who seem airport employees (but could be other thing) in another pseudobelt and run to the departs area, because I've heard that security checkpoint are more or less the hell...

In the very moment that I read "exit" I realize who stupid the whole process is. You have to do the inmigration process to control people trying to enter the States, but now I could just stay here crossing that door which is not controlled. If I had stayed inside the boarding area, it would have been much more difficult. Indeed, if I now want to make my suitcase explode, it is certainly surrounded of people, while in the plane wouldn't be...

I don't have time for any further consideration, so, appreciating the heat in Miami, I run again (at this point I am sure I could be olympic, I 'm sure) to the security checkpoint, where during 45 miutes I have to stand a guy yelling (both in English and Spanish) instructions about these plastic bags. As I pass (may I see your boarding pass, ma'am? Here you are, thank you, with a smile. He has been the only one to ask something intelligent in this trip, I think), I discover that I have to go back to... the satellite terminal!! These people is just sick... it would be so easy... oh, I'm tired.

In the train going to the teminal, I run into my sit neightbour, who is fliying to Guate too. Gosh, I thought Barajas was bad... no comments!! This has nothing to do with the glamour and efficiency that you can see in CSI Miami...

After all these things, I board the plane, and I sit next to a Venezuelan who do feel like chatting and detects my accent as soon as I thank him for helping me, and starts to comment the last fashion event. And then, I hear the commander's voice saying: "Ladies and gentlemen, this plane is flying to Guatemala City. All those passenger who are not directed to Guatemala, please, leave the aircraft..."

Home, sweet home.

Thanksgiving and Annual Reporting Exercise

I'm still lost in an ocean of work... the worst thing is that it is thinking work. If it were just doing work it wouldn't be so dramatic. But I'am in the midst of the annual reporting exercise, and that means that I am chasing my colleagues in order to have the information I need (in the guidelines of the exercise it's written: the whole country office must mobilize in order to produce the highest level report... hehehe)
That goes besides the usual expat worries at this time of the year, such as find an airplane ticket to arrive home at a aprudent time in order to preserve your inheritance, etc... also, if possible, not to get fired because you run of the office when there's most work, and not running out of money in the attempt, because it's a highly undesirable situation (generally, and particularly when you live a thousand miles far from your country).

At least, weather is fine, and that's a fair improvement. Here around they say it's winter, so it's 19ºC...

I've receive a few negative reactions about the last post (these things happen, I'm not kind in person, so why would it be so in the internet?), so I must make two declarations: it wasn't against people; you have the perfect right of being mushrooms if you want to! (know, assume the consequences!! I'm rude and when you repeat that to me, I deal with it). My anger was with myself (and with the world, for extension) for expecting things that are not going to happen and for not noticing it on time...

The second declaration is that I'm taking a short trip to Paris, let's see if we have time to prepare it all... it was a night shift and one of my searchs through low costs... we decided to go to Paris after the Three Kings Day, because we want to. And I'm especially doing this because I'm now accomplishing the first of my new rules on travels: to travel with a nonfrequent traveller, if and only if the other person proposes it.
Hm... sales on Paris!!!
World has become such a little place.

Nota bene: I need to improve my funny stories repertoire, C needs the flight to seem short...

And as per the rutine (JA), we're still redecorating over here... There's only left the physical part, mainly photos on the walls... this weekend is my deadline... I've almost catched with the work in the U, and I need to do some Xmas chopping, so this weekend is going to be spend here at the City (that and there's a huge incentive on Saturday, as there's a party, and I've enough travels on perspective next weeks)... my prenew year purpose is to make my home seem a home before leaving.

And talking about purposes and ending of the year, the post title comes not only from the fact that I'm full of work, but also from the thought that I maybe should do some annual reporting exercise including some lessons learnt, that have been quite a lot this year.
What I dont't have so clear is about Thanksgiving... but anyway, today is the turkey chicken day, as one friend told me this morning, and I wanted to include it, that misterious holiday.

Special thoughts today (not because of being Zenksguibindei, sorry for my spelling): to the Archer, who is taking an exam without convinction but with some nerves (come on, man, we all do rememner your Statistics!!!) and to my beloved Legal Drug Dealer, who today has a familiar surgery.... loads of positive energy for you both!!!

Rag bag

And you would say, where's this girl, she's not writing anymore?
OK, it hasn't been so long... It happened a couple of things since, that's true. But the point is that the other day I finally discovered how to translate my blog (here we are) and I'm working on it, so everytime I log into blogger is to fix the thing (proving to be harder than I thought, my limited knowledge of hmtl is proving to not only limited but also obsolete...), and in the end, I don't feel like staring the screen anymore. Counting work hours and hobby, my eyues will end up like boiled eggs(and since I still don't have lenses, that wouldn't be good to my supermodel career, though I'm starting to forget it, I'm too old to change my bad habits for others).
Besides, I was quite angry with the world, to be truth. But it was productive, it has served well to answer me a doubt I have always had.
Why was I angry? Because I won two plane tickets (they said it in the mail: "you think you are one of those who never win anything? Change your mind!!" However, I'm sure that 90% percent of world population claims that they never win anything; if they just noticed how many things they have already won... moral: I'll never claim again that I don't win anything, although really this story comes from much before, the day in which, I, six years old, discovered, without knowing, the games theory)... And you would say: hey! cool! Yeah, so cool. But the tickets were from Europe, because they were a present by Vueling (paying the taxes), for that very weekend.
Of course if I could have gone, I'd been to one of the destinies I don't know yet, that very weekend, but I couldn't. After the attack in front of the computer, I though: uy, maybe it's not compulsory that I go and I can pass the tickets to someone... I checked and it was true, whoever who had the code could fly.... But no one could/would. Since "it's too of a rush" till "oh, this weekend I reallllly can't"... the only person who would have accepted was, obviously, on travel. And it's not that I got angry with particular people, it's not their fault, neither is new this angryness, because it has happened to me so many times before. But in teh current juncture, let say it had a different impact, because I went to its very root.
Of all my acquaintances, no one has been spontaneous enough to do something like this (and I'm sure that if I had been in Madrid, Iwouldn't have found who came with me). I would have done it, and everyone answers: of course, but you are you. Yeah, and let's say that's an important part of me. Of course almost anybody of my acquaintances is ready to prepare the bagages and clear off to another country, like that, without turn back...
What boils up of all this? That I am very well where I am, and that my new life suites me much better than the previous one, and that I should leave my past alone and go ahead.
Lately I've had some dissapointments that have somehow been the last straw... but livinf without expecting things of life and people is not living. Therefore, following The Little Prince's philosophy, I've decided to expect from people what they can give, which means on one side, reduce my expectatives, and on the other, look for who can share those expectatives that used to lead to dissapointments. There must be someone, I'm not such a freak. Pérez Reverte already said that.

Those are strange times, lately... revising my rag bag, I've found my old regretful though of why did I choose going to Italy on Eramus instead of going to some more productive place in terms of languages (Italian is nice, but... right now it would be much more useful speaking French without effort, and not chewing it; or having lived in London)... but if I hadn't gone to Italy in the first place, I'd have never been deployed to Rome afterwards and therefore I wouldn't be here... so end with the thought that I could have gone to someother place. Puff, cancelled though.

And, why did I go in the first place? Because inside me, I already knew by intuition that it wasn't enough... For sure there will be more things being produce from my rag bag, it's utterly in a mess, and my superaccurate horoscope sais that these days I have this tendency to daydreaming...

Nothing more poetic to end that using some verses of Don Juan Tenorio, which I've always liked, although they're really coward, putting the blame of own actions on the others. This is just the contrary that i'm doing right now, but we are still on November, and... I want to quote them, that's all.

Llamé al cielo y no me oyó (I claimed to Heavens and they didn't answer),
y pues si sus puertas me cierra (so, if their doors are closed to me,)
de mis pasos en la tierra (for my adventures on Earth)
responda el Cielo, y no yo. (let Heavens answer, and not me).

First post... advertisement

I have considered for a long time writting also in English, as there are some kind friends doing efforts to follow me in Spanish. My first option was to translate the posts in Lilith en el Nuevo Mundo, but I didn't like the idea; I'd need to write shorter, and my creativity doesn't accept limits so easily... so, here it is, a new blog. It will anyway contain translations of the other blog, 'cause I think I'll never be able to write directly in English (this post is an obvious exception). I've always admire those writers who could write masterpieces in a different language from theirs... (indeed, I've always envied whoever who can write a masterpiece, but that's another question)...
So, this was the first entry.
Beyond here, monsters...