THE BEST AND THE WORST

Last year, my then young lover gave me a simply red card written in black ink saying, among other things "May next year be full of success and failure". It was a bit shocking for me reading someone wishing me failure so when I asked him what he meant or why he wished such a thing, he answered, "So you may learn and grow up." The year that started then, last year, was not easy, it was full of changes in my personality, I had to accept many things I was not exactly mad about. This year I had learned a lot, not everything, but enough to learn to be humble and continue expecting more successes and more failures. This year was stabler than last. I had not so many men jumping into my bed, not so many plans scattered all around. I focused on one man and on one plan. My plan was on finally finishing my thesis, so I quit my job and launched my new business, Briathar Language Group not as an extra income, but as THE income and it worked. I was able to support myself and my share of my daughter's, independence was huge and tasty. I had more time for my thesis, university and the General Hospital visits, and of course for my man. I don't know what is going to happen between Sean and me. We are stable, we take our time to share and even though there were critical moments, as he put it one day, "We still persevere." Influenza was decisive in my failures this year. Since then things started going down, although not immediately. The final coup was given when Liz and Alex decided to end their classes with me. I have not yet recovered from that stroke. However, I finished my thesis and started to plan on a masters on Creative Writing for next year in England, at East Anglia. Lately money has not been flowing exactly and my mother has been helping out of her own will. I have asked for help twice, but I have managed quite well on my own, I have learned the importance of things and not to strive fo futile stuff. Who am I kidding? I know that, as soon as I have money flowing again I will start spending as I used to, but maybe not. Who knows? Who cares? Life is unpredictable and that is what I have learned. I used to depend on controlling situations, but life and Sean have taught me otherwise.

A CHRISTMAS GIFT

The last class at Cuajimalpa, Blanca invited me for dinner. I accepted because it had been a tiring day and I was hungry and the food smelled simply delicious and Blanca's family is terribly kind. We had a nice dinner and then, just about leaving, she asked me whether my daughter was spending Chistmas with me. She wasn't, but in that moment I decided to see things in a positive way and answered, "No, she isn't, but I plan to enjoy the Christmas I am spending, I still have my mother and my brother is still single and I plan to enjoy both of them while I still have them." Later on Mau organized a Christmas supper at my flat, only he, Fer and me. He made a toast starting, "We don't know where we'll be in a year, but right now here we are and I want to thank you for being more than my friends, my family..."

Just a day before Christmas Eve my mother called, all flustered because she had had a hard day, practically demanding me to go and help her cook and then go to church with her. I couldn't do both things, either help and get all greasy or get ready for the Lights Service. She chose the Lights Service. But she wasn't very nice, she told me she had to come and pick me and then I would be there without doing anything at all and that hurt me, I told her I wouldn't go then and she told me she was just too tired, we did have a fight, but then again I thought what Mau had said, "We don't know where we'll be next year" and I decided to go and spend Christmas Eve with her. It turned out to be a very jolly Christmas Eve. My cousins asked if they could spend it with us and my mother agreed. We even played games! I received my text from Seany and I was very happy. We didn't go to church and I thought that nobody mentioned what we were celebrating, but then I thought again, we received the gift of life, of faith and love. My cousins are orphans and they have the luck to have a loving aunt and cousins who gladly and happily receive them to spend Christmas Eve with, I learned that the future is unpredictable and became tolerant because of that, instead of mourning not having my girl with me, I realized what a lonely Christmas Eve her father would have spent had I insisted on her spending it with me who was surrounded by so many loving people.

My brother spent scarcely an hour with us on Christmas, and when I asked why he said ,"Claudia, things change, don't grip to the past." And he is right. We are getting ready for things to change. I know next year he will probably be married and spending Christmas with his wife and maybe I will be in England and my mother might go there or maybe it will be my cousins turn to receive her in their home. Who knows what the future will bring? But I'm sure about something, there will be love, and life and faith. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

GUADALUPE AND ITS RARE EFFECTS ON MY LOVE LIFE

Yes, I had made the purpose of writing on the odd days of the month, but then again many things happen on dates when they weren't programmed. Last year, Guadalupe's day dawned on me having sex with my former Theatre Seminar. It was actually a happy and quite unexpected experience although highly fantasized about for a very long time.

This year things were a little bit different. A little bit. Again unexpected things happened. I went teaching a class, and my student, who is planning on a Master's in Contemporary Jazz, invited me to a concert he was giving. While teaching him I realized I was the only one he had invited who was actually going. I had even cancelled on a later date with Sean to go. The concert started two hours late and everybody was quite annoyed except me who is always carrying a book and get advantage of spare time by reading. When the concert started it was still within that uncomfortable vibe, but soon afterwards, the music itself broke the upsetting frequence that had settled and time flew by quite agreeably if it hadn't been for a single and constant growling in my stomach, in everybody's I guess --we were hungry. So, as soon as Carlos finished playing his compositions and melodies, we fled to the nearest restaurant to have some food. We were starving. We had more than enough. Then we strolled a bit around Tlalpan's Centre and discussed philosophy. Mhm, me discussing philosophy. But it was quite interesting. Then all the way back we continued with the same topic. After all it is about wondering how it all started and how it will all end. Specultaion.

We still spend some time chatting at the gate. Then he left.

And as soon as I entered my flat sadness hit on me ferociously. I missed Sean so much I was about to cry. I had missed him in the sense that we hadn't been able to chat, neither in the morning nor in the evening. I was sad and lonely. And then I went to FB to check if there were any messages from him and there was one! He was also sad for the chat missing and because with Christmas on, more and more reunions would be organized and more tables would be booked in advance and it would be almost impossible for us to communicate. (Mmm, it just occurred to me he could book the same table for a couple of weeks...hehehe, I know it would be silly and expensive and weird). He told me the lack of communications made him want me even more (mmmmmmm, purrrrrr). Fact is I was sad again. And then --the noise! the lights! the singing! Guadalupe's birthday was on in full display! Suddenly, images of Guadalupe's Days' gone past started flashing around me. Hahahahahaha. Same light, same sounds, same chants, a kiss and passion aroused. I couldn't help myself but laughing my heart out. All was well, all will be well, all is well.

THE LONELY MAN IN EYEGLASSES

He was a former student of acting and former football player, I guess he was a quarterback. He is now a reknown translator of Shakespeare and other plays into Spanish. He lives alone in a two story house almost empty of furniture. His room is cold, his house is cold, he is cold. Cynical. Defensive. Hurt. Lonely.

He has suffered, true, but he is also arrogant. He has many achievements, true, but he also wants to have a good laugh.

He always wears his black rimmed spectacles in spite of the new comodities of contacts. He might love the effect of them framing his naked grape green eyes. He dresses in jeans, sneakers and sweats, usually covered with a suede jacket in winter. I always seem to meet him in winter. Somehow destiny does not allow us to meet in warmer days. Maybe those are the days he is not lonely. Maybe he is not lonely but he seems to me because he is always between lovers when we meet. Maybe he seems lonely because I am lonely and I see in himself what I refuse to see in myself. Maybe he isn't even lonely, maybe it's all in my imagination.

AN AVERAGE ENGLISHMAN

He lives in Wolverhampton. He wakes up at 7.00 a.m. He wakes the kids so they will get ready for school. He then prepares breakfast and three lunches: for Lauren, Will and himself, usually chicken or ham sandwiches, and an extra package of ginger nuts for him and fruit for the kids. They usually make it on time, unless Lauren forgets where she put her glasses last night. He leaves them at school and he heads to work at Shrewsbury where he starts work at 9.00 a.m.

He works at Housing Communications as a Softwear Developer. He wanted to major as a Furniture Designer and he even draw the plans and actually built a chair for camping, but marriage got in the way and he had to get a "real" work. He hated it at the beginning, but he later saw the creative side to it and now he is happy, well, sort of. Sometimes there is a lot of pressure in carrying out the projects and he always meets the deadlines, but with a three-day migraine as consequence. He has a break around noon to have his lunch and a cup of milky coffee, not too sugary, just a spoon. He loves cantaloupe and whenever possible he takes some for lunch too.

At 5.oo p.m. he's usually out. Mondays and Thursdays he heads towards wherever the team is getting together to practice snooker or to actually play against another team during snooker season. He is the team's champ and quite responsible for the rest of them. This is the moment he cherishes the most --when he feels a relief of all the day's stress. He is highly competitive and this is a good way to be so without harming anyone else's self-esteem. Even though he is very good, sometimes the other team is better, or they are relaxed and he is too tired and he loses. But it doesn't matter because on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays after work he heads towards the nearest pub where they already know he will ask either a Coke or an orange and passion fruit juice. He will open his lap top and get on line around 5.15 p.m. when she will appear on the screen, directly from the other side of the ocean --his gorgeous, lovely and sexy ladyfriend as he calls her. They respect these virtual dates as if they would actually meet at that pub. They have been like this for almost a year. After a half hour or an hour he has to leave --he's got kids to look after, shopping to take home, a dog to walk, a cat to take to the vet and all the other duties a divorced man has.

He arrives home near 19.00 tired, exhausted. All he wants is to chill off. He usually does, he sits on the sofa and stares blankly for a while. He then comes back to life slowly. The kids come to meet him and the dog barks demanding his walk. He takes all of them and they go around the block walking and talking, discussing what their day was about. They come into the house again and while they watch whatever on the telly, they have dinner. They usually watch a comedy or sci-fi film, which are his favourites. He reads to the children and then, when he thinks they are sleeping, he sometimes texts his love before going to sleep. He hugs the pillow imagining it is her. One day, one night it will be her.

KEEP YOUR FEET ON THE GROUND

In order to do this, the ground you try to keep your foot on is as important as the kind of shoes you're wearing. Maybe for men things might be a bit easier, they don't usually wear high heels, sometimes boots with a small and broad heel that seems to have a good grip at the ground. But, walking through the different paths of life I've found that it's not always easy to keep my feet on the ground.
The ground has to be smooth but not so that it turns slippery, it has to keep a certain roughness that attracts a hold of the shoe. If, however, the ground is too rough, keeping oneself on the ground will also be kind of difficult. Holes, imperfect pavements, stones, rocks, tufts of grass and hidden turds will complicate strolling. Of course chains to prevent the passing of taxis or any other car makes it quite easy to flip and end up with the feet high above the ground and over one's head.
The other important factor is shoes. Apparently sneakers, flats and some kind of boots are levelled and stay put. Wedges like to trip occasionally causing feet to trip or twist and therefore shout. Hig heels...well, it depends on how broad is the heel. If it is not too slim, it may work and be actually comfortable. Stilletos on the other way are made to jump from the car onto a comfy rug, definitely not for the streets. Maybe the old fashioned ones, the steel soul ones who are stronger than Britney Spears herself!
So, keeping your feet on the ground is not just a matter of being famous and remembering who you are or your background or any other stuff like that. It also means, learning to walk in whichever path life takes you and on top of any vehicle.

MOON IS UP

Or rather was up. Last night, as I was coming back from Cuajimapla I saw a massive, glowing, orange ball hanging from the sky. "What the hell is the sun doing up at this time?" I asked myself realizing as I had finished formulating the thought that what I was actually looking at was the moon. I was in a trance. Even since I was a sleepless teenager I used to stare out of my window at either the stars, the planes or the moon. I have pics of those times, of the moon, where it appears as a little white dot somewhere at the corner of the nighbour's house. Not a good photographer.

Then at the university the magic increased. I used to go in the afternoon, so it was common to have classes after sunset and commonly these classes were attended by the moon peeping through the curtains of the classroom that were never fully covering them. I fell in love with three things at the same time: the moon, Spenser and my Renaissance teacher. I still remember quite vividly the night he read , "With how sad steps thou wanderst oh Moon". He was Spenser himself back to life. I was young, he was young. It was postpuppy love.

Twenty years later we met again and after a cup of coffee to catch on with all that had happened in that span of time, we ended in my bedroom, unveiled by curtains and with a huge and white moon cynically spying on us. It was impressive.

A year later, the moon was white, round, and luminous. This time it could not stare through my new curtains.

HELL

I guess I just booked a place in hell.

WTF

Sex is sex and love is love, together they are sexational, in the meanwhile, just enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!