Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Blanca Romero
This morning I woke up remembering how a few years ago, when I returned home for Christmas, everyone was making a big fuss about a new TV show called "Fisica o Quimica." Back then I had curly medium length hair and everyone started saying that I reminded them of Blanca Romero, one of the actresses in the show.... haha I wish! The only thing we actually have in common is that we are both Northern-Spaniards with Southern gipsy/Jew ancestry... haha But since then, I started tracking her career, as the model-turned-actress, surprised everyone with her great talent (common, how many cases of model-turned-actresses that can actually act, can you recall?) and, her love-affairs with the quintessential Spanish men (aka torero Cayetano Rivera Ordoñez and/or flamenco dancer Joaquín Cortes...)
She has done quite a few things, always kind of controversial... and usually involving quite a bit of sex... But if I looked like her when I'm 35, I'd do them too! haha If I ever get a boob-job, I'll ask for her boobs... haha :) In terms of style, she is usually not my type... (I will never be able to forget that blond-mohawk she sported for a while... Why Blanca? Why?) She usually dresses very comfy-looking and with barely-there make-up... But when she dresses-up, she does look amazing!She is currently tanning in Italy, while she films the Italian series, Gente Di Mare. Apparently, she also sings... I haven't heard anything from her yet... (Although I think the space reserved in my heart for Spanish actresses-turned-singers will always belong to Leonor Watling and Marlango... They are amazing... They'll get their own little post soon).
Anyway, I just felt that she deserved a little recognition... :) And thanks a lot to all of you who access my blog through Tuenti and leave comments in my Tuenti pictures about how much I look like her... sweet-little-liers... <3
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Girliest day of the month
Hello hello! :) As of last week, I decided that I should try to get a new girlie treatment (manicure, facial, massage, eyelashes, etc.) once a month, or once every two months, given that it cheers me up, makes me feel prettier and helps a lot with my self-esteem. It is so weird, how in the US, where I was heavier, I felt prettier and sexier... while since I moved to London, for different reasons, I do not feel that way at all... So I think this will help... It is an investment in well-being :)
We'll see if they actually last as long as they promised (I shouldn't swim, use mascara, eye-liner, and/or rub my eyes and avoid using soap on them). I was told at the salon, that costumers usually become regulars every month after the try them, because it's just makes life so much easier, not to have to put on mascara and the curler every day, plus all the work of removing eye make-up... But if they are not in offer, they usually cost 80-85 pounds! Which is definitely out of my budget... But with this offer (half price, and which is still on until the end of September), the experience was definitely worth it.
Elegant Studio is great. The staff is friendly and welcoming, and the place has a very Asian vibe, which I really like when it comes to cosmetics and make up. The most amazing make up I ever bought, was in Japan... They know their stuff... Also, these are very common procedures in Asia, given that they do open up the eyes a lot. (Sorry about the creepy pictures... haha).
My next treatment will probably be a cleansing facial, or some treatment to add shine to my hair, perhaps even straighten it... We'll see which offers come up. Although I think this has made me overcome my fear of extensions looking tacky (there is nothing more vulgar than obviously fake eyelashes and hair extensions...), so I might give it a try to hair extensions.... We'll see.
Another two little girlie finds... If you go to Next now, until September the 19th, they are giving out vouchers for 10 pounds off in purchases of 15 pounds or more... haha So I got these great pumps for 5 pounds!
And they have this rather cool system (sorry if you already know this, I never buy clothes/shoes online... so it's a first for me - I'm always afraid it won't fit), in which you do not have to pay for your purchase until you have received it and tried it on... I think it's a great idea, to lure people like me... Although honestly, nothing will ever be better than going to the actual store and trying the stuff on... It's one of my favourite pastimes.
And lastly... I found this little baby for 7 pounds in the H&M close to Covent Garden. Surprisingly, it is more expensive on their website (!), 10 pounds at the moment. I tried it on the size 38, and it was a little bit big on the chest area... (my boobs are gone! so sad!) but they did not have a 36 left... So in order not to break my promise of not buying clothes until I hit my goal weight, I bought it one size smaller, a 34 :) (34s at H&M are actually rather big, as I already have another dress from there which is a 34... I reckon I'll be an actual 36 when I hit 58-60 kg). It is now hanging on the door of my closet... I so can't wait to wear it! (Although it'd definitely look better with a tan... And on a brunette... Sorry!).
And that was just some of the girlie fun I had today... I just wish my little Ela had been there with me to enjoy it all... :) Well, it's been a long day... night night! xxx
Given my super tight budget, I really cannot afford treatments more expensive than 30-35 pounds... So I'll be in the hunt for offers and promotions at different salons, which I'll also review. This month's treatment is....
EYELASH EXTENSIONS! at the Elegant Studio (Gerrard Street, China Town)
EYELASH EXTENSIONS! at the Elegant Studio (Gerrard Street, China Town)
I really wanted to try an eyelash perm, but the cheapest salons were either booked or closed for the summer... So I came across a salon in China Town, which had an offer for the extensions, and I figured... why not? They last 3-4 weeks, so I should have them for this weekend's festivities, my trip to Spain, my birthday and my trip to Budapest... Pretty eyelashes for a hectic month :) I tried to take pictures, but they look so natural and discreet, that the camera wouldn't really pick up the difference. You can pick to have flashy ones, or more brownish natural ones, which matched my own perfectly. The procedure takes a couple of hours, as they put the eyelashes one by one, but it is 100% painless... I actually was very relaxed and rather enjoyed it.
We'll see if they actually last as long as they promised (I shouldn't swim, use mascara, eye-liner, and/or rub my eyes and avoid using soap on them). I was told at the salon, that costumers usually become regulars every month after the try them, because it's just makes life so much easier, not to have to put on mascara and the curler every day, plus all the work of removing eye make-up... But if they are not in offer, they usually cost 80-85 pounds! Which is definitely out of my budget... But with this offer (half price, and which is still on until the end of September), the experience was definitely worth it.
My next treatment will probably be a cleansing facial, or some treatment to add shine to my hair, perhaps even straighten it... We'll see which offers come up. Although I think this has made me overcome my fear of extensions looking tacky (there is nothing more vulgar than obviously fake eyelashes and hair extensions...), so I might give it a try to hair extensions.... We'll see.
And they have this rather cool system (sorry if you already know this, I never buy clothes/shoes online... so it's a first for me - I'm always afraid it won't fit), in which you do not have to pay for your purchase until you have received it and tried it on... I think it's a great idea, to lure people like me... Although honestly, nothing will ever be better than going to the actual store and trying the stuff on... It's one of my favourite pastimes.
And that was just some of the girlie fun I had today... I just wish my little Ela had been there with me to enjoy it all... :) Well, it's been a long day... night night! xxx
Sunday, August 21, 2011
She is not in her room...
Back in 2008, I attempted to start writing a book of short stories, linking three generations of women in a typical Spanish family, from the civil war to the present. I did not get far... It required more research than I first expected... But here is the first story.
For the non-Spanish speakers, the story describes the thoughts of a young teenage girl, while she looks for her grandma around her house. She has Alzheimer's disease and has become just a little child, with wrinkles and dark black eyes, which mirror a past never told to anyone. It is a story about vulnerability and love. Personally, I did not get to know my paternal grandma, as she died of Alzheimer's when I wasn't even eight years old. However, the only memory I have of her plays an important role in the story, as it is exactly the moment when the young girl finds her grandma hiding behind the curtains, playing hide and seek.
It is a bitter-sweet memory. And probably, one of the scariest of my childhood.
"- No está en su cuarto.
Cerré lentamente la puerta, saliendo de la cocina con una sensación de pesadez en las manos. Me paré en frente del espejo que estaba al lado de la entrada principal de la casa. Tenía los bordes dorados, a ratos, ya que algunos pedacitos de color se iban despegando de vez en cuando. Conté mentalmente los huecos vacios de color mientras sentía la fría superficie del espejo con las yemas de los dedos. Acerque mi nariz y exhale para observar la superficie humedecida, considerando la tentación de escribir algo sobre el vaho. Su risa al fondo del pasillo me obligó a recordar la orden de mi madre y me encaminé hacia el dormitorio de donde provenían los ruidos.
Era una habitación hermosa, de grandes ventanales, muebles macizos y colchas estampadas de flores verdes. Los grandes cortinones blancos se descolgaban como si pesasen una tonelada de puntillas, encajes y vainica. Me reposé contra el marco de la puerta y respiré profundamente emitiendo un breve suspiro, intentado hacerle saber que la estaba buscando. Más risas ahogadas danzaron detrás de las cortinas, y los vi. El borde de su falda negra con topos grises y sus pies blancos. Comencé a andar de puntillas, jugando a jugar al escondite, acercándome al cortinón, hasta que me abalancé sobre ella gritando “te cogí!”. Forcejeamos levemente unos segundos, balanceándonos en los brazos de la otra, hasta que su cara asomó entre las cortinas, con aquella sonrisa. Esa sonrisa abierta y sincera, inocente de niña pequeña.
Entrelacé mis dedos con sus canas y le di un beso en la frente mientras ella repetía “Eres mi niña ardilla, mi niña ardilla”. La observé cuidadosamente, como si en sus rasgos fuese a encontrar el significado de tal apodo. Su nariz era aguileña y sus labios finos, descansando sobre un mentón prominente. Sus ojos eran negros, negros. Tan negros como un espejo, devolviendo tu reflejo al intentar averiguar que se escondía tras ellos. “Mi niña ardilla” repitió mientras sostuve sus manos en las mías. Eran delicadas, frágiles como el cristal. Sus dedos eran delgados y finos, se podían contar todos sus huesecillos. Sus meñiques eran extremadamente pequeños, redondos y con una pizca de uña. Eran meñiques de bebe. “Mi niña ardilla” repitió, mientras presionaba la yema de su menique contra la punta de mi nariz, y sonreía. “Abuela, mírame” le rogué mientras sostuve su cara en mis manos por unos segundos, indagando seriamente en los ojos de aquella mujer que apenas conocía, intentando averiguar qué pasaba por su mente, que significaban esas risas danzantes, porque me llamaba niña ardilla. Me miró fijamente unos segundos, sonriendo sin cesar. La luz que entraba a raudales por la ventana se reflejó en el negro de sus ojos, lanzando un destello al aire. Fue aquella fracción de segundo en la que me percaté de la belleza de esos ojos inmensos. “Debiste ser muy guapa de joven abuela” le susurré.
Dócil como un borrico, me siguió a la cocina, a través del pasillo, pasando lentamente por delante del espejo que era dorado a ratos. Abrimos juntas la puerta y mi madre se quejo, “ya era hora”. Había de comer lentejas con chorizo y las tres nos sentamos a la mesa. Volví a mirar sus meniques de reojo y tras hundir la cuchara en el potaje, suspire silenciosamente. ‘Aahhh, abre la boca abuela, ahhhh, que viene el avión’ y me miro con ternura con esos ojos negros inmensos, como espejos, mientras se tragaba una cucharada sopera de lentejas."
For the non-Spanish speakers, the story describes the thoughts of a young teenage girl, while she looks for her grandma around her house. She has Alzheimer's disease and has become just a little child, with wrinkles and dark black eyes, which mirror a past never told to anyone. It is a story about vulnerability and love. Personally, I did not get to know my paternal grandma, as she died of Alzheimer's when I wasn't even eight years old. However, the only memory I have of her plays an important role in the story, as it is exactly the moment when the young girl finds her grandma hiding behind the curtains, playing hide and seek.
It is a bitter-sweet memory. And probably, one of the scariest of my childhood.
"- No está en su cuarto.
- Se habrá vuelto a esconder – dijo mi madre sin mirarme a los ojos, mientras aplastaba las arrugas de su delantal con las palmas de las manos, antes de esconder la cara entre los vapores de las ollas hirviendo. – Búscala y tráetela a la cocina, que ya es hora de comer.
Era una habitación hermosa, de grandes ventanales, muebles macizos y colchas estampadas de flores verdes. Los grandes cortinones blancos se descolgaban como si pesasen una tonelada de puntillas, encajes y vainica. Me reposé contra el marco de la puerta y respiré profundamente emitiendo un breve suspiro, intentado hacerle saber que la estaba buscando. Más risas ahogadas danzaron detrás de las cortinas, y los vi. El borde de su falda negra con topos grises y sus pies blancos. Comencé a andar de puntillas, jugando a jugar al escondite, acercándome al cortinón, hasta que me abalancé sobre ella gritando “te cogí!”. Forcejeamos levemente unos segundos, balanceándonos en los brazos de la otra, hasta que su cara asomó entre las cortinas, con aquella sonrisa. Esa sonrisa abierta y sincera, inocente de niña pequeña.
Entrelacé mis dedos con sus canas y le di un beso en la frente mientras ella repetía “Eres mi niña ardilla, mi niña ardilla”. La observé cuidadosamente, como si en sus rasgos fuese a encontrar el significado de tal apodo. Su nariz era aguileña y sus labios finos, descansando sobre un mentón prominente. Sus ojos eran negros, negros. Tan negros como un espejo, devolviendo tu reflejo al intentar averiguar que se escondía tras ellos. “Mi niña ardilla” repitió mientras sostuve sus manos en las mías. Eran delicadas, frágiles como el cristal. Sus dedos eran delgados y finos, se podían contar todos sus huesecillos. Sus meñiques eran extremadamente pequeños, redondos y con una pizca de uña. Eran meñiques de bebe. “Mi niña ardilla” repitió, mientras presionaba la yema de su menique contra la punta de mi nariz, y sonreía. “Abuela, mírame” le rogué mientras sostuve su cara en mis manos por unos segundos, indagando seriamente en los ojos de aquella mujer que apenas conocía, intentando averiguar qué pasaba por su mente, que significaban esas risas danzantes, porque me llamaba niña ardilla. Me miró fijamente unos segundos, sonriendo sin cesar. La luz que entraba a raudales por la ventana se reflejó en el negro de sus ojos, lanzando un destello al aire. Fue aquella fracción de segundo en la que me percaté de la belleza de esos ojos inmensos. “Debiste ser muy guapa de joven abuela” le susurré.
Dócil como un borrico, me siguió a la cocina, a través del pasillo, pasando lentamente por delante del espejo que era dorado a ratos. Abrimos juntas la puerta y mi madre se quejo, “ya era hora”. Había de comer lentejas con chorizo y las tres nos sentamos a la mesa. Volví a mirar sus meniques de reojo y tras hundir la cuchara en el potaje, suspire silenciosamente. ‘Aahhh, abre la boca abuela, ahhhh, que viene el avión’ y me miro con ternura con esos ojos negros inmensos, como espejos, mientras se tragaba una cucharada sopera de lentejas."
Friday, October 22, 2010
What's up Valencia?
If a trip of 8 hours wasn't long enough, a woman in the bus decided to sneak in her little dog against all rules, to get discovered in the middle of the night by the driver... she got yelled at and delayed the whole trip one extra hour. Oh snap!
The bus arrived to Valencia at 5.00 am., allowing me to squeeze in a couple of hours of sleep before heading to the hair stylist at 09.00 am. The hotel room at NH Center was amazing... well, it was more like a small apartment, with its entrance hall, a complete bathroom with a big bathtub, a spacious double bed and a small relaxing area next to a glass wall. All the people at the hotel were very nice and polite, making me feel 10 years older by calling me by “usted” and carrying all my luggage to my door - they didn't event let me hold my suit, which I carried in a travel-cover. The hair salon was right next to the hotel, managed by two blonds who gave me tips to move around the city. There was also a nice small restaurant next to the hotel where I got breakfast and lunch for 2 and 9 Euro respectively... Full menu, first, second, dessert and wine... Amazing.
The company I was going to interview for is right in the center of the city, in an old and charming area, among very picturesque buildings. When I arrived, I had a cup of green tea in the most lovely tea-house in the very same street... Valencia was just gaining brownie-points left and right... Until I actually got to do the interview: it was awkward, uncomfortable and very nerve-wracking... Hence killing my mood to go exploring the city some more that day. Thus, I decided to stay in the hotel Thursday evening, swimming in the outdoors pool, drinking mojitos and sunbathing. Moreover, I got to talk to Sara, Matt, Jenni, Sarai and Ivar between glass and glass of white wine, which the waiter at the terrace kept coming all evening and never charged me for - nice. I also got to do a lot of resume-sending and organized some stuff for London; it was a very productive and relaxing time. The only pato-aventura I had was when I ran to my room after letting my battery die in the middle of a conversation, to plug in my computer in my room, killing all the lights in the floor... C'est la vie. I fell asleep watching the channel “Cosmopolitan” and woke up very late the next morning to “Never been kissed.”
On Friday, Valencia-city got another chance, when I ventured into the center and the old part. In my opinion, Valencia has a certain Mediterranean touch, like Barcelona, although it is more welcoming than Barna, due to its smaller and more manageable size. Moreover, it also has a Southern Spanish medieval-city atmosphere to it sometimes, like when you enter the old part through medieval massive towers or when you find medieval churches buried amongst tall, modern buildings. Other parts, like the big avenues with tall decorated buildings of the early XXth century reminded me of Madrid, although Valencia definitely has its distinct character seasoned with palm trees, orange trees and the green park of the Turia river crossing the city.
My “mordisquitos”-side was also very pleased. I had an awesome lunch - first, second, bread, dessert and wine - at a small restaurant right in front of the cathedral for less than 9 Euro. This was very surprising given the amazing location. The waiters were very friendly and gave me directions to try to find my bank to get some pounds for the UK - which I couldn't get in San Sebastian because of the 2-day-order rule. On my way there, I got stopped by the TV crew of “Gente,” an evening program of the main Spanish national TV network. I tried avoiding them for some reason.... I thought they might had been asking tourists stuff about the old part or the tourism industry in the Fall... but they ran after me, to tell me that they loved me outfit and wanted to interview me and pass a fashion's designer's test... Which I passed with a good grade! Thank goodness! haha I wish I had been better dressed though... I was just wearing a comfy skirt and a t-shirt with “merceditas” and Sarai's latest black bag. At least my hair was ok... haha :) Anyhow, my search for pounds was tiring, long and ineffective, given that even in the big banks in the center of the city, they followed the 2-day-order rule... (After-editing-note: There are no exchange-places at the airport either!!! So I'm flying to London without a single pound in my pocket.... Hopefully there will be an ATM or an exchange place at the airport so that I can take the train to London Bridge!) 
On the other hand, there were also a couple of sketch moments in my trip... When I left the hotel in the morning on Friday, two sketch-balls followed me for 20 minutes , until I got very nervous and approached a security guard standing in front of the entrance of “El Corte Inglés.” The guys turned around right away and never saw them again... Thank goodness! Later that afternoon, I approached a traffic policeman for directions, when I was looking for my bank's headquarters and he politely indicated me the way. However, two streets down, when I stopped to take pictures of a church, he crossed my way and told me not take pictures of him, to which I smiled and said “don't worry sir, I wouldn't do such a thing.” Another couple of stores down the same street, he approached me again and told me that he was joking and that he would walk me to my destination if I didn't mind... To which I agreed, given that I actually had no clue if I was on right street or not. On our way there, he asked me where I was from, joked that I didn't have a Basque accent, what my plans for the day were and even offered to pose for a picture of both of us... When I told him that I was flying to London, he asked me if he could have my phone number.. to which I replied that I didn't know when I was returning. He smiled and watched me enter my bank... and even waved a couple of times while I waited in line... Oh snap! Is it even allowed to approach happy, non-disturbing innocent citizens like that??? Way too much concern for your citizens Valencia...
Late that afternoon I returned to my hotel, picked up my bags and took the bus on the 150 line. It is so convenient! It stops in the main spots (including my hotel), costs 1,50 Euro and leaves you at the airport in 50 minutes. Valencia got tons of brownie-points for its efficient and safe public transportation system. The airport is small and manageable - kind of boring actually. There is only one overpriced fast-food place once you pass the security point, so make sure you eat out in the city before your flight back.
Au Revoir Valencia, you are a nice city, with great-cheap restaurants, good transportation systems, interesting sightseeing spots, way too many palm-trees and creepy traffic policemen... and I got to be on TV! :) My only concern now is how I will get pounds in London so late at night....
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Trip to France
Saturday 18th of September
My last hours before leaving were crazy-hectic. I was called for a last minute interview for a rather cool teaching position, for which I had 15 minutes to arrive to... I got there in jeans, a large sweater and with the last addition of my braces... which doesn't let me speak properly... I don't think they were very impressed (I know I wouldn't be). And... if they call me back I would have to return back to Spain way sooner than I would like to... So I feel 50-50 about this job. I won't think much about it. My dad wanted to take me to the train station in Hendaye this morning, right across the border. The trip should take around 30 min max, but he planned to leave two hours earlier... Which actually we ended up using because he got lost... I really don't understand how that happened... But now I know who did I get my lack of orientation from... and my extreme obsession to be on time everywhere.
I'm writing this in the French TGV, bordering the gorgeous French coast all the way up to Bordeaux.... It's actually a nice, comfy and very well color-coordinated train. Last time I did a long-distance trip in train across Europe was during the summer of 2005 (5 years ago?!!) when I went interrailing with my Danish roomie Selina. I remember how excited I was about the idea of getting stamps from all different countries (we crossed six) in my passport... which never happened because Europeans citizens can travel anywhere within the EU with their national ID – didn't even need a passport. Disappointing. Back to my point, the trains we used were actually rather rackety, old, and funny-smelling. So, things have either changed these last five years... or we were very unlucky with our train-selection.
Hmmm.... is it weird that I feel so homey at airports, train stations and other means of international-transportation? Although these last three months and a half in Spain have made me realize how much I like living in Spain and, how much I need to settle down somewhere for more than a year so that I can regain some sense of belonging... I think some part of me will always be desperate to jump in the next train or plane to somewhere far away. I'm stating to think that I also got that from my dad... I could see how his eyes lighted up when I told him we should meet up in Bordeaux to spend the day and do some sightseeing when I've settled down in little Brossac. Also, I think he enjoys a little too much sending me to ask random questions about anything and everything in French to random French people.
PS - Pictures from Bordeaux St. Jean train station.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
One day and wake up: France-time!
Last weekend was rather awesome. The comedian on Friday turned out to be Marco Antonio - hilarious doesn't even begin to describe this guy (http://www.marcoantoniocomico.com/). He also presents the Comedy Club in Murcia, works as reporter for Interalmeria Televisión and writes and presents Telematón. Where on earth does he find the time to do all that?
The highlight of Saturday was getting to know some acquaintaces better (Myriam's friends) - They turned out to be some of the most interesting people I've got to know in a while. After a cosy dinner at someone's house we headed out to a concert, although we didn't stay for long. Afterwards we went to the old part of San Sebastian to rediscover what used to be the old "Tic-Tac," in its new phase: way clasier, better music and less smoke! We danced a lot, even ended up closing the bars in the old part. Fun times.
Anyways, the fall seems to be arriving in the Basque Country, starting with the apple-season. This week I couldn't help picking up some every time I went running to feed them to my fav horsie - he likes the red best. Also, apple-season always reminds me of start putting away the summery clothes, although I couldn't bring myself to take out the rainboots... not yet! I'll wait till I get back in few weeks.
Next update will be from the other side of the border :)
Friday, September 3, 2010
The Perfect Man - It's all Sarai's fault
Sarai is the one to blame for this post about "The Perfect Man" by Sheila O'Flanagan. She gave me this book as a present from London... Although it took me two months to read the first third (it starts kinda slow), I've read the rest in just two days. I was literally glued to the pages of this book... I read half in my second visit this week to Cristina Enea Park and the rest this morning... putting off everything else... buffff
In my opinion... the story line is not that original, the writing is cheesy, the development of the plot very slow, predictable and, the fact that many scenes of the book take place in the south of Spain, in a tiny village of Málaga, sometimes made me a little bit uncomfortable - made me wonder if the author actually knows what she's writing about... "Sierra Bonita", really? really?
However, it also talks about Dublin and Ireland... And one of the characters is half Irish, half Spanish... Who made me think of someone very dear to me. Moreover, the emotional evolution of the characters is brilliant - I really enjoyed all the subtle, believable changes throughout the novel. Lastly, it is romantic... And hadn't read a chick-flicky-bestseller in years... It was good for me - These last six months I actually forgot there exists something called "romance" out there...
**To Sarai: If this book was part of a strategy to stop this year's ongoing personal-emotional transformation into Samantha Jones... you were smart my friend, very smart... Thank you very much. I love you.
PS - The title is a link to O'Flanagan's official site. It has a very cute-very British ad about the book :)
However, it also talks about Dublin and Ireland... And one of the characters is half Irish, half Spanish... Who made me think of someone very dear to me. Moreover, the emotional evolution of the characters is brilliant - I really enjoyed all the subtle, believable changes throughout the novel. Lastly, it is romantic... And hadn't read a chick-flicky-bestseller in years... It was good for me - These last six months I actually forgot there exists something called "romance" out there...
**To Sarai: If this book was part of a strategy to stop this year's ongoing personal-emotional transformation into Samantha Jones... you were smart my friend, very smart... Thank you very much. I love you.
PS - The title is a link to O'Flanagan's official site. It has a very cute-very British ad about the book :)
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Brain-deadness
This morning I had an interview for an English/Japanese/Spanish teaching position in a prestigious language school in Guipuzcoa. The interviewer was very friendly, welcoming and interesting and, who also gave me little "gifties" with their logo :) hehe But the interview itself... wow! He made me start telling the story of my fav book in English, and with a snap of his fingers I had to immediately switch to another language, adding French and Basque to Spanish, English and Japanese. Moreover, he made me conjugate obsolete verbs used only in poetry and asked me to come up with synonims for the most random words/concepts... like "body snatcher" and "hushed" (kinda gloomy terms, really).
Oh well, it was a good exercise to test my knowledge and language-skills... But it left me brain-dead for the rest of the morning...
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