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as already proposed to introduce in my first blog "Logbook of an optimistic , when I was small, the question of what would be more, he answered without shame that" Unusual. " As I said then too, such extravagance child has a fairly prosaic explanation and today, I've had a good friend of my second stage of university (I will tell you, now, but I guess not surprised that you say you could not make good me in El Escorial ...) it was she who encouraged me to share with you.

my mother tells me, when I was child television aired a documentary biography of the biggest stars of film which chronicled the life of love and luxury of all. Flaunting the glamor of those divas who rubbed shoulders with the crème de la crème, traveled by Rolls Royce, eating caviar, is adorned with the best bright and slept with whom they pleased between silk sheets, always divine them, all delicacy and good taste.

The series was titled "Women's unusual." So I, I put a towel like a turban exhibiting an unusual sense of drama, maybe a girl but very typical of me in any case, what I wanted being was an Elisabeth Taylor or Gina Lollobrigida or why not my favorite of them all: a Marilyn Monroe.

But you see, what we have been ... and I do not mean just by me but by four.

Can A Uhaul Fit A Queen Size Bed?

Almost nothing, eye ... A letter to my grandfather

If I am generally very clueless. My parents, I have high regard do not stop believing it, but I am, I assure you. And I had an era of decentralized youth that you do not even want to tell. The fact is that by that time between the pie and I characterized the hormone would not let me think beyond the arms of a love for truth frustrating is that enough did to survive. With great difficulty, really. But I knew resist the Scope. And here I am turned into a grown woman, if it is clear that what does not kill fat and what we learn helps us grow.

said this and my sister would say, "the nougat." I am telling you this then is the story of the events then. I sound strangely, things happened this way:

In my freshman year I was staying at the Hall but the second one had shown my differences with the Augustinians who run and I I (or me were, "I swear that I do not remember if the latter sounds better) a floor. As my parents at that time (and did well) did not rely too much on my psychological training as I got into an apartment run by a lady where we lived, in addition to herself and her two children, the occasional student. Well, Aunt Castula times coming from the people to spend time in El Escorial, but that post deserves customized. Was equivalent to a pension of old but I lived like a group home. To which we. Anyway, I shared a room and bathroom with an aunt named Virginia nicest, younger than me and also quite crazy, for leaving the track fine, fine. We made good friends.

I was always around the eye drops because my eyes, beautiful they are (that) are fine as they are alone and required extreme care in which I poured out to look like any (that looked). Nothing, I'm not sure why that evening was special and I was in the shower with all decibel Guns'n'Roses ready to leave. And I say I do not know what the afternoon was special for me at that stage (enjoy it while it lasts ...) any excuse was good to paint the line of the eye and go out and celebrate whatever. Who has seen and who sees you ...

Nothing, to me you got me there, just out of the shower, with music playing against me (as I understand, keeping your busy singing single neuron available ...) and the moisture making the rest ... that between that you're not what you have to be and get adverse circumstances, the minimum change is woven tragedy. I

little hole in the mirror defogger enough ("oh, oh, oh, oh sweet child of mine ...") to see and then catch the Vispring, look up at the ceiling and when the drop is en route descending towards my right eye I wonder what strange reflection awakens in me a suspicion (this drop is rare, very rare ... too heavy ...) and in split seconds and close the eye, by the way, I can not reopen. With the left in the bottle read: SuperGlue !!!!!! ¡¡¡¡¡

I leave the bathroom, half amused and worried, with the eye winked at the strength and the glue on hand. I find my partner's mother Virginia (which she also had come to spend a few days at El Escorial - do not you say it was a pension? -) Looks me in three seconds and give the seven evils. What lists are the mothers! You amused and worried (you know ... happy hormone) and her one hundred percent concerned in a heartbeat. I said out of his mind: "Oh, that guilt is míaaaaaaaa !!!!! That was the Towel off and I've been pegandooooooo!! Oh I've left the glue on the mármoooooooool! "

The poor lady I swear I was on the verge of unhinged but also as a good mother starts ipso facto to try all the home remedies that he spent to her by the head to detach the eye. First giving hot with little water and see if the thing is softened, then with a little oil. No, no way. When I heard Mentar turpentine flatly refused and there that both went to the emergency room. I between worried and concerned and she between hysterical and as follows.

In San Lorenzo is a health center and as enter through the door (it was to see us, twenties with glue pot in the hand and eye winked ganchete mother-of others, but mother, after all, inconsolable) they told us there were no emergency eye and we we were to fly to Madrid I saw a specialist.

surreal enough "history? Well the thing is. There

the only car he had was his daughter, Virginia where his mother was in the academy, tutorials do not know why ... off we went, the Kelvin to look (which had no phones, no, everything was a little run stroke), she was already pulling their boxes and I a concern, the truth and with a bandage on the eye the sea of \u200b\u200bdiscrete I grabbed the front and the occipital, just in case. That those doctors had no fucking idea of \u200b\u200ban eye, but put some bandages that do not even want to tell. I do not know if you need to tell you but your daughter was not on the Kelvin, no, I was taking rods. The lady was really heart-healthy at all because if not that afternoon we had finished with it. We had no choice but to go through the bars, cafes, bars and other people's (thank goodness that this is not Manhattan ...) looking for her daughter. In full search we were when it was my sister who ran into us and she did that we almost the charge that evening. I remember his veneer and still gives me grief, but the dressing was like to be the most tragic and I think it was who suffered most from those years with me (poor little protective sisters ... I pity you) had to believe me capable of having played the eyeball to the highest card, for example.

Anyway, joined our desperate search until we get to find Virginia (can not remember where) and the four drove to Madrid to experience the outcome of my eye. From that trip I do not remember much, except the truth that poor lady who kept apologizing and asking forgiveness, without consolation. What that mother suffered Later that no compensation of any kind by many grandchildren you have given later, his daughter. We

the Clinical and treated me right away, an ophthalmologist and Galician nicest I snapped at the first opportunity that this was no joke. And they say of us who walk around the bush ... Whether the Superglue that had come to touch the eyeball me goodbye to him forever. That was not the first time I faced a similar case and more than a work accident had led to the fateful outcome and the pegamentito of yore. I got a bit of anesthesia and worried lady shave the darling tab to tab, and as they were eyelashes, glue them. As soon as he could open a little and saw my eyelet ... do you want to tell you, that was glorious!

all was a shock and an eye to the lizard, not a single tab. Very annoying and remarkable, especially in my case, I have them as fans ...

"Will they grow?" I asked, amused and concerned.

"It depends, of everything I've seen," he told me, Galicia.

Virginia's mother then promised me some tips. They did not need.

Right Tonsil Covered In White

are over ten years we lack. We

faults especially the one you wanted, you know, Grandma, Mom, your son and Paula and I, for example.

Often, when someone dies listen to those who remain complain of the vacuum that leaves loved.

Not you, you left us full of many things, all very valuable. You, so few words, you were generous in your gestures and save you endless memories. To complete a thousand lives, Grandpa.

I have my favorites, that I recall every time you want to spend a little while. I will not count them all, some are and will always be only ours. I keep in the background the soul, in a secret box open when I'm sad and I look and Remiro and entertain me in detail, until the memory starts to hurt and then close it. There are some who do not hurt easily and I imagine you sitting in your chair long, gray hair against the light, reading the newspaper or listening to Manolo Caracol, at home, at The Ship, with the living room windows open, or getting up from the table , just after lunch to go see "the party" and I sitting next to you hand over hand ... I also remember the dinner, sitting at the round table in the parlor with your apple and this grama ... or by taking a piece of toast with honey ... the final honey ... that honey ... that hurts, see? Close the box again.

There are loves that last a lifetime, grandfather, and you who were capable only of good left us this lesson preached by example. Always able to forgive, and harder than the insults have been able to return the love that we gave you multiplied to the point that we've left all his pockets full, overflowing with tenderness. The one you gave off, Grandpa. Lived with the good nature and naiveté that only children can. And you left giving thanks for what you wanted.

If there is a heaven where you thought, I know there will be occupying an important place, with sea views, safe and garage. That garage, you see? It also hurts. I close the box again.

I have no such luck, I do not believe in your sky, but I have of ever dream you want. I close my eyes and immediately thought of you I will show up. Tonight no further than we had the two together and as usual I woke up wanting to thank you for coming to see me. And here I am, grandfather, with a thank you and love you.

I

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My lemon, my lemon tree ... Happy Valentine

series is that I bring the best of each house. Everyone agrees that I am "cagadiña a meu pai" but I still agreeing with the statement a priori claims a couple of little details of Resale sea designation Source "The mother who bore me."

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addition to the films! terror I also like romantic comedies with happy endings, it must be said. I was lucky enough to live a firsthand for more than five years and the thing promised. Promised from day one, I warn you, but you know these things, sometimes not what they seem at first.

We met by chance in the pool of urbanization in which lived the two, a hot afternoon of Friday, July 12, although we both had been eyeing earlier. What you want to tell you, we both could not be more attractive ...

Anyway, we spent the afternoon together, talking until we closed the swimming pool (this was love at first sight) and we agreed to meet at the same place the next day morning. I was there, front row, to take place this Saturday when the lifeguard was still measuring the levels of chlorine. With my best towel (and the largest, those that lend to share my crema ...), and my bikini with padding ... the evening before we were not prepared.

survived what could have been a stroke even though I won facial spots for the remains that you do not even want to tell and did not eat all day and not get separated. That afternoon, I suggested going to dinner together and I said no (with a couple, yes, sir) that I would stay at home watching a movie.

We found the phones for a next time.

That night he called me and said: - "I'm at Blockbuster and I also thought about catching a movie for you, what kind do you like? "

I replied:" In terror "and hung up.

Soon rang the doorbell. It was him. He carried under his arm two movies and Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream. In the face of the planet's most beautiful smile.

spent and said: "What we see first?"

and stayed forever.

This is my Valentine's gift, his in the photo.

Ostatnia Wieczerza Leonardo Da Vinci

Nihil prius is Friday

And it is a Friday either. It's Friday 13 and for fans of the horror film deserves the anniversary celebration. And style.

On this day is considered bad luck in the Anglo culture. Apparently it would have to go back to the fourteenth century to discover the origins of this superstition would not know what to do with persecution of the Holy Inquisition of the Templars. But this is not what concerns me but the series of films starring the "dreaded" Jason Voorhees. Jason to dry for friends. At a stroke left him with no last name and without qualification.

And, let's face it, poor Jason killed because their victims were left. I have no doubt. For those who do not know the story Jason was a child and Flounder cojitranco victim to the taunts of their peers.

You know ... Angels!

Anyway, I was camping at Crystal Lake, where his mother worked as a cook when he drowned in a lake (as well cojitranco, could not swim). I fled from the mockery of those with whom I shared bunk beds and campfire at night and to top it all caregivers or heard because they were his own: giving the leek and onion snuggling.

Jason's mother decides to avenge the death (accidental, on the other side) of your child and you mess up the world. Bloody slaughter where they exist to survive only a girl, who is charged Pamela Sue (mother of Jason) and cut off his head with a machete.

Jason then returned from the dead to avenge the death of his mother.

This is, nuances aside, the plot more or less consistent based on eleven films (if sequels are never good, you can become charged ...) starring Jason. A serial murderer of two meters high and over a hundred kilos, cojitranco (sorry to insist both on disability, but it is not easy for a guy like you do not catch you if you let yourself, my god!) and Flounder, and no one, no one seems able to escape. That, if inconspicuous and some mistook him for a neighbor of the fifth, we plant a hockey mask and a chainsaw to give us time to alert us at a distance.

Now, he is seen coming from afar, if you know what I mean.

But is that such films can not be a stop to analyze under what subtleties, you will believe it all, period, because if not, put a quibble, really: who the fuck has yet to get the key the bowler to open the door of your car?, "once opened for what the hell have to use another different key to start it?, how many serene know, by God? Always carrying all one hundred keys hanging from the key ring and are two hours trying them all until you find your home address! Why milk in the moments of maximum tension always decide to go every man for himself? Who in their right mind goes into the woods further away from civilization to give the hormone by the taste and when you hear noises in the ceiling out to see who's there?

Well you see, despite all this, or perhaps because this to me, these movies make me mad and tonight, I'll celebrate with a continuous session of the series.

course, with my boy next door and with candles in romantic plan, that at twelve starts Valentine!!

Another day I speak of Freddy Krueger, who also has balls ...

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I fear that yesterday reached the zenith of my glory as a blogger. Thus, at the very beginning. Now I feel a bit like Amenábar must have felt after "Thesis." Yes, I know would make me see what the ego is not enough to be aware of it ... pimer step is to put a solution but nothing more ...

The fact is that overwhelms me dizzy and I'm not sure what to write. What a fucking. With much fun it was to be this! My sister tells me to check one and we're laughing, but nothing. For more I give round ... and sorry, but nothing.

estarme

could make me coy and interesting back in a couple of days (what will they do without me muse so long?) With renewed energy and apologies by making them believe that I've been very busy, but no, some residue of Modesty has to stay very much in the background so you also choose to share with my imperfections.

Nothing that to see if tomorrow I wake with better air and I can tell you something interesting. And, in my case, alcohol or psychotropic drugs or I can turn to for inspiration.

The hypochondria is what it is ...

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The other day I was watching a story on Biography Channel is titled something like "film Husbands" which told how some Act or out-and-out husbands and fathers were also copies and thought I, "because my father anymore." No fuck you. And it has not always been easy, so it scores double, for sure.

My father is a great guy, you look where you look. Great as a parent, a brother super, super and grandfather (recently exercised but it sure would have loved to have hit him that label is primarily because of an injured ... Chochin lost ...) and wonderful as man.

has known and knows how to cultivate their affections and has been and is always very clear about their priorities.

grew, my sister and me in the belief that a father and was a "normal dad" and as we grew we were also realizing that we were lucky enough to have an exceptional father.

I felt lack of words that let you know how he is and why I feel so proud to be his daughter, until I remembered these words of his a few years ago and today I decided to share.

I dedicate this post today at one of my favorite bloggers, I wish he had had a parent who deserves one like mine: the best father in the world. Sure.