Back To Chicago

I’m back!!
Back to posting and TV and House and Heroes and no parents around and electric stoves and friendly driving and no old friends and no shoes in the house and Target and no humidity and no mountains… but home, in the end.

What I did:

Leave without the boyfriend. Cook. Work the Mac out for four straight days until I finished all my Priman work. Spend some deserved time with the family. Play with the cousins. Eat, a lot. Drive like a maniac. See my cats again. See my friends, eat pizza and play Nintendo Wii. Steal a cat and then gave it back. Fell in love with a baby turtle. Run in those crazy hills every day. Amaze myself with the Rebel like crazy. Clear US Customs at Dallas in 7 minutes, 2000 minutes less than what I thought it would take; phew. Go to a costume Mexican Independence party. Go to a military parade. Oh and finally see Total Recall hahaha.

Also, and to my nerd relief, read four books: “Ensayo sobre la ceguera” and “El cuento de la isla desconocida” by José Saramago; and “Mujeres de ojos grandes” and “Arráncame la vida” by my new favorite Ángeles Mastretta. Such a good record.

Where I went to:

Downtown Monterrey, like a million times. Malls in Monterrey, like a billion times. Bookstores, like a millionbillion times. A smoky bar with a nice funk band that captivated me mostly because of their name: 60 tigres (FRIENDLY FREEBIE: DOWNLOAD THEIR CD! Plus, they have nice graphics!). The always problematic BBVA Bancomer bank. To see all my doctors feeling like a hypochondriac, but making sure everything was still good. My favorite enchiladas restaurant, but only three times. Not to museums or the big flag this time. And to see houses and apartments, no comments.

What I brought back:

The boyfriend. Retainers (jijij). Prescription eye glasses (sadface). Tons and tons of books. 20 kilos (40 lbs.) extra in our luggage, forcing us to either buy an ugly bag at the airport or pay a $100USD fee; sorry, we bought the ugly bag. Enough cookies to save the US from Mexican homesickness for a year. Lots of good times. And my you’re-all-never-going-to-hear-the-end-of-it wish to go back for Christmas :)

Gorgeous pictures coming up to Flickr later today.
I took like 2,589 so give me a little time.

Family Freud

I just came back from a 4-hour lunch-old-book-hunting break with my dad.
[glass shattering sound]
Boy was I naive about my extended family 4 hours ago.

We went downtown to a very Mexican restaurant. I had soup. I never.
Anyway, we talked for a while and I felt that I grew up just by listening to my dad talk about his mother.
We finally caught up on all the sad events that happened while I was gone. It was like breathing right again.

We also heard a guy yelling at the waitress for not having -again- “french bread”. It was a very very successful therapy session for him, because at one point he said “I was yelled at by my mother and the nuns when I was growing up, I don’t need to have a waitress yelling at me too”.

After “Freud times” we went to this secret street that I know where they sell really cheap books. Weird things like encyclopedias, Molière, Reader’s Digest, and Garfield comics, all together inside of a massive warehouse. I used to get all my weird philosophy things from there.
So we bought some books, and then went to a market to look for Independence Day outfits and we found this:

jejeje
My dad bought it for Jason but I said he didn’t need it, that he’s a natural mustachey boy.

So after that we went to the 70s and my dad told me all these stories about my family that I had no idea but always wondered.
Now please, don’t go thinking I have some “Uncle Murder” and “Aunt Kidnapper” relatives, it’s just shocking to see how society changes and goes back to the same patterns. Like those horrible 80s fashion trends.
It is also shocking how people quickly forget their own closet skeletons and very easily criticizes when new people do the same things 50 years later. Sigh.

I know our very human mind makes us believe that we’re more special than everyone else is, but still, I am one very lucky girl.
And I’m still having a lot of fun back home.

Chipotes Mexicanos SA… Or How I Hit My Head This Friday

Orale, el niño Dios me castigó por burlarme de los programas de inmigración de Estados Unidos!

El viernes fui de bénévole a la escuela y que me doy en la frente con el pico de una pared mientras recogía unas botellas de vino. Con madre.
A los 0.2 segundos sentí la frente en erosión y que aviento todo, corro al baño, me planto frente al espejo, cierro los ojos para no ver, no, mejor si lo veo, los abro, me quito el pelo de la frente y casi lloro.

Sentí el cosquilleo de I’m-in-trouble en los dedos de las manos, como me pasa cada vez.
Pensé por 4 segundos enteros que me iba a morir. Y en los Uniteds, chale. Nunca, en mis recientes años de despistación me había pegado en la cabeza. Casi casi vi pasar mi vida en un flashazo, como dicen por ahí jejeje.

Bueno, pues que me pongo hielo y medio se siente diferente, aunque se me hace que lo imaginé; total que me hice la macha, me puse el pelo sobre la frente de nuevo y regresé como si nada a la fête.
CORTE A…
Tres horas después con un chichón del tamaño de una pelota de golf, llamando a mis papás a que me dijeran qué hacer porque Jason ni me quiso ver bien que porque “le daba cosa” y que porque de seguro no me había pasado nada. Ayyyy los hombres.
Y yo con miedo a ir a dormir por si tenía una contusión y nunca más despertaba. Hasta me despedí de él y de Bubu jojojoj bien “Jocelyn”.

En fin, sigo viva! La frente me duele y mejor ni hago caras, parece que me puse Botox. Ya me estoy esperando el moretonazo en unos días… listo y brillante para cuando llegue a Monterrey!

[Suspiro]

Baby Jesus punished me for attacking US Immigration programs!

Last Friday I went to the Alliance Française as a bénévole and ended up hitting my head against a wall. Nice.
0.2 seconds after the POW! I felt my forehead growing so I ran to the bathroom, faced the mirror, closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see it, no, I changed my mind, I did want to see it, opened the eyes, pushed my hair back, and almost cried.

I immediately felt my hands tickling with that I’m-in-trouble feeling I get every time.

For 4 entire seconds I thought I was going to die. And in the US. Bummer.
Never ever in this recent phase of absentmindedness (and bruising, and falling and scratching) of mine I had hit myself in the head. Oh I almost saw my life in a flash like they say jojojo

So, I ran outside and came back with some ice. Soothing! I figured whatever happened would get better so I macho-ed up and went back outside.
CUT TO…
Three hours later with a bump the size of a golf ball, calling my parents to ask them what to do because Jason wouldn’t even look at it and kept telling me it was OK.
Ahhh, les hommes!

So there I was so convinced I had a cerebral contusion and afraid to go to bed just in case I didn’t wake up. I even said my goodbyes to Jason and Bubu hahahha so “Jocelyn”.

Anyways, I did go to bed. I did wake up with a headache. I still have a bump on my forehead… but I’m also alive and packing.
I’m also waiting to see the shiny bruise I’ll take home this Friday as a sign of my Friday bravery.

[Sigh]

Inmigrantes: No Inmigren!

…O algo así como “caminante no hay camino.”

Me estaba esperando para escribir esto, más que todo por decencia bloguil, porque de por si ya le echo mucho a los United… pero sentía que debía escribirlo rapido antes de que, o vinieran por mi en la noche, o me lanzara a una manifestación de las muchas que hay (y luego vinieran por mi en la noche.)

En fin, supongo que ya lo han oído: El gran plan de Self-Deportation, la única respuesta al hecho de no tener respuesta a los problemas de inmigración a Estados Unidos. Como Bush está ocupado…

La idea de esto, (ahí les va rapido que el tiempo es dinero, y dinero aquí no tenemos, así como tampoco tenemos mucho tiempo), es que los inmigrantes indocumentados con órdenes de deportación se entreguen tipo Bambi al gobierno para vivir sin la amenaza psicológica de arresto, detención… y deportación.
Total que el que se entrega, tiene derecho a 90 días para poner sus tiliches y asadores y gallinas y demás clichés Mexicanos en orden y orale, de regreso!

Yo escribo esto con mi mucha simple opinión, y creo que el problema (por no decir el ___ ____), es que ese ni es el problema.
Los que empezaron el desmadre ni tienen por objetivo buscar a gente que se deporte, ni buscar gente así nomás. La verdadera meta es perseguir indocumentados con historial criminal y ahora si, deportarlos. Y ya. El problema es que se está buscando una solución para algo que ni es el problema original. Entendimos?

Ahora resulta que por no encontrar futuros deportados criminales, la nueva es buscar de todo. Atrevidos!!

Que no es lo mismo pensar que si te quieres auto-deportar pues nada más vuelas, corres, [te aceleras], manejas o pides ride a la frontera, la cruzas y ya?

Este programa (que dizque experimental) comenzó este mes en cinco ciudades: Chicago, San Diego + Santa Ana California, Phoenix y Charlotte y terminó hoy. Si funciona, lo usarán otras ciudades. (Estoy buscando cuántos se aventaron, creo que nomás 6 joojoj.)

Ahora bien… se supone que la ventaja de auto-deportarse es que ya no tendrás miedo a que la migra te pesque a media noche en tu casa, te arresten (y a tu familia también [y a tu mamá, pos también!].)
Ahora piensa, quién ve beneficios en estos términos después de haber pasado un infierno de flojera en México y otros países? Después de haber dejado a tu familia, amigos, casa, carrera (licenciaturas y demás), gatos, perro en la azotea, primos, tíos, panadería, carnicería, estanquillo de tacos, peluquero, gimnasio, quitakilos, Vips y demás?!
Te arriesgas de todos modos yendo a trabajar todos los días. Te arriesgaste hace 10-20-30 años cuando te viniste a vivir aquí. Ya qué!

“El programa no ha tenido mucha respuesta”… pues claro!
Qué ganas de ir a las oficinas de estos güeyes un día (con maletas, triques y toda la cosa.) Ya me veo parándomeles bien digna y heroica, aventando las maletas en el lobby (plah!), ondeando una bandera de México (swoosh!), haciéndoles la mueca de “orale!” con la barbilla, lista para deportarme. Se me hace agua la boca como cuando como tamarindo con limón.

Y peor, al estilo de usar estrellas en la manga izquierda de la camisa, una vez que te entregas, tienes que usar una madre en el tobillo, de esas madres electrónicas que hacen bip bip mientras te rastrean a cada minuto. Así como Lindsay Lohan. Qué denigrante.

Y ya, mejor la dejo aquí… No vaya a ser que por tanto Googlear el tema ya estén en camino a mi depa, y yo que ya ando en pijamas.

Page Magazine 02: Get Naked

The first article I wrote for Page Magazine.
Hopefully, the next time I write about Page, it’ll be about issue # 05.

Now in English…

Get Naked.
The Voxan Cafe Racer Super Naked by Philippe Starck.

Like there’s something better than the word “Naked” attached to a new toy… what about “Super Naked”?
Actually, we’re already Starck fans; all his designs have that curvy and fit French look. This time his minimalist touch revolves around Voxan, the French haute couture house of motorcycles.

With an engine of 120cc, a healthy weight of 180kg, and 140hp as the basics; design from outer space as a plus; and matte finish as an extra, it makes us want to introduce it to our parents.

Although this is only a prototype and there’s no final release date, we already bought leather jackets.

Who better than Philippe Starck to renew the traditional motorcycle and give it an even sexier look? Vrooom.

Page Magazine 03: Hello Dior

Page Magazine Issue # 03

Now in English…

Hello Dior.

Hello Kitty + John Galliano for Vogue Japan.

Ahh summer… time for fall-winter collections! And what’s spectacular about this time is that Dior dares to present theirs in Japanese hi-def.

For the first time in Dior’s history, a slightly rounded model will present a clothing collection; and to make things more dramatic, a model that is all love.

Mademoiselle Hello Kitty, ever so adorable, will make her runway debut showing the latest designs by John Galliano for Dior.

Her fashion-forward fans will be able to say hello in the May edition of Japanese Vogue, Vogue Nippon, which will include Kitty posing with Galliano while shopping in Paris.
Ah the good life, j’adore.

El Mexicano Promedio- Prólogo

No sé quien sea este tipo. No sé si sea pariente de alguien que yo conozca o si alguien lo identifique, o si todos nos identifiquemos con él, pero de que es un gran espécimen para este blog, lo es.

Introducción para mi post sobre El Mexicano Promedio. Pronto.

Bed For One

Jason didn’t sleep here last Thursday, he had a doctor’s appointment early Friday in the suburbs, so he spent the night at his parents’ house while I stayed in the city.
I figured a night without blanket pulling or endless book reading would give us some bold (or bold italic) times.

I don’t know what he ended up doing, but here’s what I did:

Jason left at 10pm, and I went straight to the Mac. Nothing different there.
Around midnight I had the equivalent of a child’s weight in chocolate mint ice cream and some super salsa-y popcorn. Nothing unusual there either.
I was also wearing pajamas and no make up all this time. Again, not uncommon.
I finally turned the Mac off at 2am… Quick question! Is this normal or not? (Ummm).

What was different, though, is that I went to bed (after eating two too many Tootsie Rolls) and watched an episode of the Gilmore Girls. As in, in the bed. I know.
I had somewhat forgotten the joy of tucking myself into bed, turning the light off and the TV on, and having something lullaby me.

Wait, blasphemy! I also changed and put on pants, a sweatshirt and big fluffy socks, impossible every night because Jason is such a heat machine.
Even further, I slept in the middle of the bed jojoojoj

Still, I was a little coldy, with a single pillow underneath my single head.
I love that song.

Page Magazine 04: Pineapple Express

Another Nudos En El Pelo series! I’ll start posting the articles I write for Page Magazine.

I wrote this for Page but it never saw the ink because I’m talking about a pot movie, bu…
Yet, I’m also talking about comedy and good actors and great writers… and even puppies!
Here are the articles, in Spanish and English.

Pineapple Express [ESP]

Siempre nos han dicho que las drogas son malas, pero nunca he dudado tanto. Pineapple Express está por salir y yo que no puedo esperar.

Escrita por Judd Apatow, Seth Rogen y Evan Goldberg (Knocked Up, Superbad), Pineapple Express es la historia de Dale Denton (Rogen), Saul Silver (James Franco) y su extraña relación cliente-dealer-amigo.

Pineapple Express es también un nuevo tipo de mariguana que sólo Saul vende, y Dale resulta comprar.
Las cosas se complican cuando Dale presencia un asesinato por accidente, se apanica y huye, dejando en la escena parte de su última compra, la cual los hace fácil de rastrear por chicos malos y policías corruptos.

Usualmente las películas de este género se caracterizan por la ausencia de acción una vez que los personajes han hecho de las suyas, pero esta vez se trata de Rogen y Franco intoxicados, huyendo de la policía, comenzando persecuciones y medio usando armas.

Comedia, acción y narcóticos. Judd Apatow ha estado leyendo mi diario.

Pineapple Express [ENG]

People have always said that drugs are bad, but I’ve never doubted that so much. Pineapple Express is here and I’m reconsidering my illegalness chastity vow.

Written by Judd Apatow, Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg (you know, Knocked Up, Superbad), Pineapple Express is the story of Dale Denton (Rogen), Saul Silver (James Franco) and their atypical client-dealer-friend bond.

Pineapple Express is also a new kind of pot that only Saul sells, and Dale ends up buying.
Things get bad when Dale witnesses a murder by accident (unlike the rest of us, who do it willingly), freaks [and geeks] out, and flees the scene leaving some pot behind, which makes both of them easy to track by the bad boys.

Usually this kind of movie is characterized by the absence of action once the dudes have taken care of business, but this time we’re talking intoxicated, police-fleeing, gun-testing dudes. Drugs = fun?

Comedy, action and narcotics, Judd Apatow has been reading my blog.
The movie opens today, go see it… Oh yeah, puppies are pretty, too.

On Wednesdays You Check Your Email

So, first I woke up earlier than usual. I got ready and pretty. I went outside and it was hot. I sat at a tea house and read for a while. That Petit Nicolas is so funny.

Then I went to Victoria’s Secret and admired Heidi Klum while I wondered how the hell did she do it after the kids. I took pictures, but I didn’t buy anything.

After that, I went to buy my madeleines pan from my favorite cooking store, Sur La Table. I’m going to try baking without cake mix. God help us.
I even went to a Barnes and Noble and wrote down a madeleines recipe from a Williams-Sonoma book, like I was in a library or something. (I didn’t get caught).
I also read some book about Judaism. (I didn’t get caught on that one either).

Later I went to buy office supplies. That makes me happy for some bizarre reason jijij

I then ran into a Target and stopped to buy stuff I needed to bake and to live. Oh and frosted flakes because I was out.
I also almost went into the oh so very close PetSmart to play with kittens but chickened out last minute.

After, I went to buy an orange. (I know, but I needed precisely that). And drove the car back to the garage so I could walk to a park.
I took some very pretty pictures with green accents (I can’t help it lately) on my way there. Then I sat in a coffeehouse (while I drank something I’d bought somewhere else), and read my smart book. I won’t tell you which one that is.
It’s really good, though.
Aren’t you at least a bit curious?

Later later I met Jason. We came home, we saw John (he complained about CPA tests). I went running. (And kind of enjoyed it). We watched Throwdown in the Food Network (I heart the Food Network these days), Bobby Flay was challenging Paula Deen. Paula won.
After that we had pasta instead of fruit smoothies. Jojojojo

When we finished dinner, I decided to check my email just in case. Just in case of anything, that is, let’s not get ahead of ourselves… yet there it was.

Memory is a tricky thing (I’ve been reading a lot about the brains), so I wanted to remember yesterday as much as I could in the future. Now you’re part of it too.
We just heard back from Immigration.

PS. The link for “the future” is ridiculous hhahah