Conscious laziness
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
I finally got my Internet connection back on again so I should upload a couple of posts. In the meantime I am playing with Flavors.me. I love it but feel so inadequate compared to others users and their incredible pages. For starters, I need a better picture, preferably not one taken with a cell phone. It would also help if I remembered the info to access my homepage so I can tweak a few things and eventually point my domain name to Flavors.me, but I am really good at forgetting things.
I am also really good at procrastinating. I should have checked out NewWorkCity on Monday, if not then certainly today. I should have been cardio kick-boxing this morning and hip hop dancing yesterday evening. But I never moved from home and just barely from my chair, except to get to the bed and read a great book (note to self: join Good Reads). Right now I should be downstairs at the YMCA. I will ... in a minute or so.
This weekend I would like to try and take the cardio kick-box class again, and go to a craft meetup of which I have been a member forever but never actually attended, and I would also like to go dancing with Marc. On Sunday I would like to hear Sharon Salzberg at the Community Meditation Center. And maybe also have brunch at Quintessence.
I might do some of it, I might do zilch. Chances of doing it all all are quite slim. Somehow I have gone from being a gung-ho Tony Robbins devotee full of goals and timetables to this new me, a strong proponent of conscious laziness.
OK, OK, I am going to the gym now, but only because I want to retrieve the three new books I ordered on line from Barnes and Noble. They have been downstairs with the doorman since this morning. See what I mean?
Birthday presents - I love them ALL!!!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Quitapenas, or a bag full of people.
Several Kukuxumusu drinking glasses.
PCBeast brooch.
And this just from ONE person! Keep them pouring! I LOVE presents!
More whining - some repeating
Monday, February 8, 2010
Amazing how easy it is to focus on the bad ... here we go again (
The pros.
People are nice and polite. Beaches are beautiful. The feeling of
being in Europe in the 60s can be charming for a short period of time.
Caipirinhas, once again, are out of this world, delicious everywhere
and every single time.
The cons.
Service is terrible. It does not matter whether there is one waiter or
a dozen of them, you'd be still waiting forever while they chat or are
busy ignoring you.
Driving is atrocious. Nobody seems to pick a lane, use their lights or
be aware of other cars on the road. Road signs are inexistent. Most
people don't know or follow basic road rules. I saw a woman with a
baby in her arms on the passenger seat of a motorbike. Also saw a guy
swinging from a bottle of beer in the car at the gas station with his
wife and baby without seat belts by his side. There seems to be a
subgroup of suicidal Uruguyans who jump or ride their bikes right
into coming traffic. By the way, the cars, like most everything, are
straight out of the 60s or 70s.
Food is very simple, also straight out of the 60s. It does not matter
where you go, the menu is always the same. Quality is not good either.
Was disappointed by tomatoes and onions (and yearning for those of
Mexico).
M.A. had the best meat and the best milanesa in La Pedrera, but both
were pretty bad almost everywhere else. One of the best meals was
across from where we were staying in Montevideo, not a fancy
restaurant by any means, but the food was very good and the
presentation was top rated. The place is called Rocco. On the other
hand, at Media Lunas Calentitas we got served a milanesa de pollo
completely uncooked. Revolting.
Music on the radio is nothing but oldies. You would think nothing has
been created musically in the last 40 years. Even the alternative
scene is outdated. The hippies at Punta del Diablo are quite funny.
They seem unaware that that revolution was fought 50 years ago. Bu
then again, everything and everybody is stuck in time.
Beaches are full of jellyfish (but not the ones that really hurt) and,
excepts for the ones in Punta del Este, there are very few services
like bars, toilets or showers.
To top it off we both had some kind of virus/stomach bug that did not
contribute much to the enjoyment of the vacation.
On a more positive note, it's my pleasure to announce that I LOVE
Chihuahua and I know I can be very happy there. I love the place
itself, love the vibe of the nudist beach, love my neighbours. Buying
a plot of land there was a TERRIFIC idea (gracias, Juan y Leandro!)
and I can't wait to build a house. More about Chihuahua in another
post. Time to work now.
The good and the bad, so far - Feb. 3
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The good things.
The beaches are stunning. I got to see good friends. My skin looks great, smoothed out by the intense humidity.
The bad things.
The food is just the blandest, most uninteresting thing you can imagine. At a parrillada all I can eat is peppers or potatoes, but then the potatoes are covered in butter. Warm butter. Yuk. I tried a fancy restaurant but I all got was some fish and rice with just about everything that they could find in the kitchen thrown on top of it. Not subtle. Not even tasty. So far I have survived mostly on pasta (which, for some reason, they never strain properly so it's always watery) and melted cheese in the form of pizza or provolone. I just can't stand it any longer. Tonight, my birthday, I'll eat some frozen corn. Yummy. M.A. is practically a zombie for the second day in a row from some form of severe stomach bug, or at least that's what I hope. If it's not a bug then he is dying. My own stomach is not doing too good either and the fact of achieving illness through no pleasure whatsoever really pisses me off. In any case if he's this sick tomorrow again we are definitely going to the doctor.
Another very unnerving local habit: real bad customer service.
Yesterday we made a reservation for a table for 7 at a restaurant at the beach. Got there and the place was in total darkness. One of us got out of the car, pushed the door to the restaurant, which was open, and the alarm went on. Nobody came out. Given that the reservation was made in person a couple of hours before we showed up and that the door was not locked, I thought maybe everybody had been killed inside. If they were the news has not reported about it so far. Example number 2, I decided to get a massage for my birthday. The masseur was supposed to show up at 6.30/7.00 PM. I did not check what time it was when he actually came, but it was later than 8.30 PM. I strongly believe a massage is meant to relax you and by then all I wanted was to slowly strangle him with my bare hands. So forget it.
Now I am in this gorgeous house, wondering when to start thawing the corn. Michael is off to a dinner. M.A. is in bed writhing in pain and trying to sleep. I might just fix myself a strong vodka with something and drink it to my health. Happy birthday!
Blogging from the plane - Dec. 22
As usual I am on a plane, looking forward (not) to hours upon hours of being jammed between other fellow passengers. In what amounts to an exercise in humiliation or a reality check, depending on your stance on fat rolls, I fit perfectly fine in the first seat with lenght to spare on my seatbelt. On the second flight, on the other hand, it's barely long enough to snap it close and I cannot unfold the tray completely without having it stab my situation. Anyway ...
So let me clarify my mythical status, as Alain will have it. In between sentences I will probably pop another pill, should this flying coffin start shaking. I will then probably make less sense.
What I said was that it's not difficult for a woman, just about any woman, to pick up a guy. All you need to do is go sit at the bar at your local joint and instead of chatting fervently with your girfirend, look up, gaze around, stop your gaze on somebody. Itś not that difficult. You don't need to be spectacularly attractive and if you are very homely, you just wait for your turn, later in the night. The ol'pecking order. I also said that when I want mainly to get laid or to get myself some love I tend not to go for the 50 something. Obviously, I go for the 20 something or the 30 something. It would make absolutely no sense to choose the least apt to achieve the end.
But then again, I also said that this is the case when you are just looking for some action, which I tend not to, and most of the women I know do not either. I also said that, as most things in life, most people are not terribly proficient at it or, in other words, most men are lousy lays. Basically, you hope for the best, chose the one that looks like he could be somewhat adept at it, listen to a lot of crap.
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