Spanish Girl Departing

RIP Mimo

2009-12-04T13:13:00.000-08:00

The end of an era... Sweet Mimo was 19 years old and had been in our lives since I was 8. That's longer than I can remember. Sad to see him go though at his ripe age, it was about time. May you fare well and have a fantastic welcome party with those lovely souls who went before you. We will miss you.

Hello... hellooo?

2009-12-02T07:54:00.000-08:00

Poor little abandoned blog. Sitting patiently for my return as Hotmail, Gmail, Flickr and now the biggest evil of all, Facebook, overshadow and take over the realm of blogging. Is this what we're getting to? Constant updates, changes, people, different functions... and trying to keep up with them all. Eventually there won't be any time left in the day for anything else. I have to admit, it is easier to share an image or a little tidbit of info here and there, than to sit down to pour my heart and soul into a well-thought out little post. And unfortunately that works to the detriment of my blog. Hopefully it is only temporary...

New Season, New Car

2009-10-30T09:06:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my wonderful grandparents in Reno/Lake Tahoe, my first car is now sitting outside my window. It arrived last Friday and I promptly got the title transfer and registration done. I also got studded tires and insurance, and she is now ready to roll in the wild Montana territory. And winter. Because not only do I now have to learn how to drive manual, but also how to drive in winter. A whole new set of skills... But I am up to this exciting new task! Thanks Yayos!

The Sweetest Kitties in the Land

2009-10-21T07:13:00.000-07:00

Finally!

2009-10-16T13:48:00.000-07:00

Two Kitties and a Squirrel

2009-10-13T13:48:00.000-07:00

Nanook

2009-10-13T07:47:00.000-07:00

Introducing Nanook

2009-10-12T08:03:00.000-07:00

This is Nanook, the latest addition to our family. Previously known as Brutis (poor little guy), we obviously decided to change his name to Nanook, which means polar bear in Eskimo. He is a 6-month old little cutie who has much to learn from Pinky. Pinky was not too thrilled at first and kept 24-hour watch the entire first two days, hissing at Nanook when he got too close or moved too unexpectedly.

The second morning together, they started chasing each other around the apartment. I think poor Pinky is a bit out of shape and this little guy is certainly challenging her feline prowess. I was getting worried about Pinky putting on too much weight, but seeing how she has been running around like never before, and has barely had a taste of food since Nanook arrived, I'm sure she will get back into shape. I was and am a little worried about her not eating, but I'm guessing all this excitement has her on a hyper-vigilant state which will be assuaged as she gets more used to Nanook. She seems to like the fun and games, but she needs to adjust to the idea that he is here to stay. As for Nanook, he knows how to handle her and doesn't bat an eyelash when she hisses or swipes at him. He has been very good so far- immediately learned where the kitty litter was, has not scratched the couch, etc. He does need training in human matters though, such as not jumping into plates of food. All in all, an exciting time for all, especially with a long dark winter just around the corner.

And this is our Halloween photo session. A black cat sure seems fitting on Halloween.

It is Here

2009-10-09T09:32:00.001-07:00

There is something wrong with this picture. Our summer chairs covered in a cold white substance. I awoke this morning at dawn to a familiar scraping sound I tried to ignore and rationalize not to be what I indeed knew it was- somebody scraping snow off their car. I looked out the window to the first snow down in the valley. Everything outside was covered in white and this morning as I went to do laundry down to our apartment complex's laundry room, my freshly showered hair froze. I checked the weather and gasped: 22 F (-5.5 C); windchill 8 F (-13.3 C). We have literally gone from summer weather to pure winter torture, no in between. Yikes. We had high hopes for a mild winter, but apparently an early winter is never a good sign here.

*Sigh*

Winter Visions

2009-09-30T15:16:00.000-07:00

I think I can safely assume winter is close. I looked out the window today and was greeted by this sight. After 4 months of sun and warmth, it was shocking to see. Disappointing and exciting all at the same time. It will take a while yet for the snow to reach us here in the valley, but it is definitely making its way like a weathered pioneer migrating back.

Carnivàle: A Tragedy

2009-09-24T09:10:00.000-07:00

We just finished watching Carnivàle, the HBO series that met an untimely and tragic death due to its costly budget after only 2 seasons. Granted, each episode was budgeted at $4 million.

I had actually already watched both seasons over a year ago, but was excited to share this magnificent piece of cinematography with Trav, as it is visually stunning and the layered plot is absolutely mesmerizing, a tale well-told.

The characters, in my opinion, are so well-developed and offer excellent, extremely credible performances. It's amazing that the bleak Depression-era dust bowl can be portrayed in such a colorful, lively manner, yet remain true to the difficulties of the times.

I've always been a fan of themes relating to good vs. evil, human nature and the struggle between free will and destiny, and this series is full of them. The basic premise is based on this very idea, good embodied by a troubled young man who has the power to heal, though feels unworthy of such a gift and the choices this gift entails, and evil represented by a creepy yet articulate, persuasive preacher who uses Christian beliefs to draw his increasingly blinded followers closer to act as pawns in his evil plan to unleash hell on earth.

I was so ~~devastated~~ disappointed that HBO chose to cancel the show. The season 2 finale did offer some closure, but opened up a whole new series of questions and possibilities that we will never find the answer to. Tragic. That is the word to describe this.

The worst part of it all is that the creator of Carnivàle, David Knauf, would have given us fans some closure in the form of a graphic novel most likely, but he sold Carnivàle rights to HBO and HBO refuses to let go of it. Greedy little rat finks.

Mornings with Pinky

2009-09-24T08:56:00.000-07:00

It's a matter of perspective

2009-09-17T07:41:00.000-07:00

Fall and Rise

2009-09-02T08:14:00.001-07:00

September always feels more like the "New Year" than January. I guess the winding down of summer certainly acts as a turning point, a bend in the road. This month is going to be busy for me as I am starting a 45 hour training to volunteer in the YWCA of Missoula and hopefully getting my full driver's license and a car. I am excited about the upcoming busyness. I get the feeling I am going to grow into a new sense of normal. Up until now, it was all about adjusting, becoming familiar with life here, making peace with opposing forces inside me. Everything was new and exciting and scary and more than once I wished I was back in Spain (but only for a fleeting moment). To be honest, at times I was in a kind of haze I could not recognize. Now, I want the novelty to wear off, to feel like I have a purpose here, to get more involved in the community. We are not sure what our future plans will be, but we know we are going to be here for at least another year and I want to make the best of it.

I realize I have lately been scant on words and excessive with my pictures, so I won't bother you all anymore with my photo obsession- except for the one right below! I have added my Flickr photostream on the right hand side of my blog in case anyone does want to check out some of the sights and scenes from around Missoula.

I hope you are all well and ready to tackle this fresh new fall and upcoming winter.

A Bug a Day Keeps Boredom Away

2009-08-27T08:47:00.000-07:00

Ladybug

2009-08-26T09:26:00.000-07:00

Oh the fun never ends...

Fast Family Summer Recap

2009-08-25T08:49:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures of family taken over the summer. Unfortunately I don't have any of our weekend at Flathead Lake, except for this one below of the "Trapper Cabin" we stayed at with Carol, Trav's mom. Sorry Carol! I have to get pictures from Trav...

My mom and brother James came to visit us in Missoula in July. We took them up to Garnet Ghost Town so they could get a taste of the old wild mining west.

We then drove out to Seattle to spend time with Lili and family.

Mom, James and Albert came back to Missoula in August and we enjoyed a beautiful sunset, bowling, fun dinners, a day trip to the National Bison Range and a swim at the Council Grove State Park.

And of course we got to see a whole lot of wildlife. Osprey, buffalo, elk, prong horn deer, etc.

Sorry Trav, I didn't intend to put you right in the middle of the wildlife section, despite your wild mountain man status....

And that was that, a quick version of the past two months. Family is back in Spain, leaves are turning shades of gold, red and orange, and geese are announcing their departure. Such a bittersweet farewell to a much awaited summer...

And more...

2009-08-24T12:45:00.000-07:00

Same fly, same photo, same obsession. Feel free to go get me some OCD pills just about now.

The Butterfly and The Bee and My New Obsession

2009-08-24T07:22:00.001-07:00

As you can see I'm still having a blast with my new camera and Photoshop Elements. I never thought bugs could be so interesting. As a matter a fact, as I walk around looking for my new ~~victims~~ models, I wonder "Did you all even exist before I got my new toys?!"

I have also discovered that Photoshop Elements can do pretty much everything I used on Photoshop, except it costs oh, about $600 less, which needless to say, is GREAT news for me as I am considering purchasing the program.

Photoshop Elements

2009-08-21T11:54:00.000-07:00

I just downloaded a trial version of Adobe Photoshop Elements. I've been wanting to learn about photo editing software, and though it is complicated stuff, it is fun to experiment and witness the results. Just look at this photograph which is the same one on my prior post. Much room for improvement I know, but you sure can dress up pictures with these powerful photo editing tools!

Fly and Two Bison

2009-08-19T11:16:00.000-07:00

A-M-A-Z-I-N-G

2009-08-16T11:59:00.001-07:00

So this is what flies look like up close.... This is what my new camera is capable of. And I wasn't even as close as the camera can get; I was afraid of scaring the fly away.

I felt slightly more hesitant with this one, but managed to get pretty close too.

Missoula Rainbow

2009-08-16T09:47:00.000-07:00

My New Toy

2009-08-14T14:16:00.000-07:00

(a flock of geese flying a way in the dreaded V shape - signifying the end of summer and coming of fall and winter)

It has been a while, as usual, since I posted. I guess it is the Summer Syndrome, being out and about, seeing family, enjoying the good weather, and wanting to savor it all rather than write about it. Maybe it also has to do with being bored with my old camera, although I still love it and it is an incredibly reliable, solid camera that has never ever failed me. Montana seems to bring out the photographer's soul in people as there are so many amazing sights to behold and capture. Be it wildlife or scenery or landscapes, the nature here is artwork. And I want to grasp it and frame it and place it on my wall, or my blog. So, I decided to treat myself to a new camera which could keep up with my frenzy.

New camera = a whole lotta fun...

After 3 years of sporting a 3x optical zoom, 4.1 MP Sony Cybershot camera, I opted for a Canon Powershot SX200is which boasts a 12x optical zoom, 12.1 MP and an awesome macro feature (amongst many other features). Of course poor Pinky was my test subject and I spent much of the first two days running around the house chasing after this poor cat who looked at me like I had gone insane. I guess my running while calling out "Pinky! Pinky! Come here Pinky!" compulsively would cause anyone to flee the highly excitable madwoman I had become as a result of my new toy. Here are a few examples of the capabilities of this little Canon jewel and the quenching of my thirst to photograph the tiny birds that occasionally perch themselves on the trees in front of our deck:

4th of July in Missoula

2009-07-08T11:25:00.001-07:00

Elegant and Beautiful

2009-07-01T12:26:00.000-07:00

I also love the dainty paw pose, as if showing off a manicure.

Big Year at the Movies

2009-06-30T14:52:00.000-07:00

This is a promising year for movies! I am eagerly looking forward to two in particular:

The Road, based on the novel by Cormac McCarthy which stole my heart and made me weep.

And Shutter Island, based on the novel by Dennis Lehane.

As much as I'm glad I have read these books before having a movie ruin them for me, I find I kinda miss out on the edge-of-your seat anticipation and surprise of the unexpected twists and turns of the big screen.

And yes, along with the hordes of hormone-crazed teenage girls, I am also looking forward to New Moon, as I devoured the Twilight saga in two weeks.

Sunset

2009-06-30T09:21:00.000-07:00

Sunset takes place around 9.25 p.m., and at a little past 10, the sky still looks like this. By 10.30, there are still some orange smudges in the distant horizon. Beautiful...

Garnet Ghost Town

2009-06-26T07:58:00.000-07:00

A meandering road weaves up and around the mountains of the Garnet Range, leading the way to one of the most well preserved and least known ghost towns in Montana- the Garnet Ghost Town. Located 6,000 feet up in the mountains in a secluded valley, we had come to know about Garnet by chance one winter day as we were driving up to Seeley Lake. We were on Montana Route 200, a beautiful road surrounded by lush green forest and wide open farmland. I was glancing out the window when a sign caught my eye a few feet away: Garnet Ghost Town, right. By the time I had registered the meaning of it, we had already driven past the exit.

This was not something I wanted to miss, so I pleaded Trav to turn around so we could check it out. After all, I had never been to a ghost town before, and by the looks of it, this one seemed to be located in the midst of the mountains, on a road whose exit was certainly easy to miss. Oh, the mystery of it, the eerie calling from the mountain, luring my curiosity forth.

Unfortunately, a few seconds into the road we came to a small parking lot and a sign that read cars were not allowed on the road up to Garnet in the winter, as the path was slick and icy and ultimately deadly.

Darn it, I thought. What a disappointment. As soon as we returned home I looked up the town online, and sure enough, access to motor vehicles opened in May. Alas, I had to wait.

Fast forward 3 months, and finally we decide to visit Garnet. It is an overcast Saturday, but fleeting patches of blue and sunlight give us hope the day may change still. A perfect day to visit a ghost town, a moody atmospheric weather revealing stories untold…

The road up to Garnet from Route 200 was 11 miles, which, on an uphill winding mountain road, meant driving at about 30 miles an hour. It did not matter, as the drive was beautiful and we were greeted by a herd of cows grazing nonchalantly in the forest surrounding the first portion of the road. Up and up we went, trying to catch a glimpse of the spreading view beyond the curtain of trees standing sentinel by the road.

Can you imagine what this must have been like for the old miners who lived here? Travelling this road in the dead of winter on horse-pulled carts? It seemed like an odd place for a town, but I guess gold is what dictated that back then.

As we approached Garnet we could discern old log cabins peering at us through the brush. It certainly felt like we were stumbling upon a hidden, unexpected treasure, a life suspended in time, congealed in the remnants of the hopes and dreams of this deserted town. Garnet is said to have had several lives, as it boomed and declined on several occasions, until its final demise in the 1940s. Its inhabitants packed up their personal belongings and left, leaving furniture, appliances, tools and clothes behind.

Hence, the ghost town was born. Of course the town was later looted on several occasions, and many of its items and artifacts were stolen, including the staircase of the town’s once fancy Wells hotel. But as preservation efforts grew stronger, so did Garnet`s endurance. Weathered by the seasons, by time, by looting and vandalism, it stands today, a window into the past.

One of the most impressive and disconcerting buildings is the Wells Hotel. Standing proud and decrepit at the end of Main Street, one cannot help but feel the lush grandeur it used to boast towering over the miners’ modest log cabins. As I stepped inside it was like being sucked into a wormhole. I could almost hear the music playing, the kitchen bustling, footsteps running up and down the stairs, the ladies speaking in hushed tones in the “Ladies Parlor”, the men’s boisterous game and liquor in the main living area. Its golden age had indeed passed though, as the hotel now stood in torn rags, carrying the wounds of memories past. Plaster and wallpaper flaked off the walls, shards of glass from broken windows pointed fingers accusingly, and cracked, peeling objects stood on counters and tables. Mice had built little nests in broken mattresses and a film of dust covered all surfaces, as if waiting expectantly for feet to leave their prints. The first floor contained the main dining area, the ladies room, the office and the kitchen. The guest room quarters were up on the second floor, old rusty bed frames still pushed up against the wall and a variety of objects and furnishings that seemed to be crying out their utility and worth. The last floor had been the miners’ quarters, an open attic space divided by mere lines on the floor where miners would lay out their bedrolls and look at the stars under the sky lights.

Despite my awe at this olden world, I could not help but feel a certain quiet sadness percolating through the cracks of these buildings. As if they were not allowed to move on, but were forced to remain and endure the passing of time, watching passersby come and go, gawk and smile and sometimes wrinkle their nose in disgust. Photographs snapped, images captured, and Garnet condemned to echoing its existence for all eternity, deprived of its own peaceful rest.

I’ll be honest; I was one of the gawkers taking photographs, as can be evidenced in these pictures I post. But I found myself harboring a deep sense of respect for this town, for the people who lived here, their victories and struggles. They were after all real people, who worked hard and followed a dream, a dream which led them up into these wild mountains with nothing but a few possessions and a vision.

It is said that Garnet is haunted. Some say music can be heard playing in the old Kelly Saloon, but when approached, the music ceases and the place lays in silence and darkness. Others say doors can be heard slamming in the old Wells hotel, even where doors no longer exist. One caretaker even reported seeing the figure of a man dressed in old-fashioned apparel running down the street, when there had been no one on the grounds. It kinda gives me the shivers... Luckily my psychic door to the supernatural is shut and bolted and I hope I have thrown away the key, because I do not any unwanted entities whispering in my ear or dark specters looming over me as an icy chill shoots up my spine. I know I am not sensitive to other worlds, but then again, was that honkytonk music I heard, barely audible, drifting in the wind? And that swift movement in one of the windows, was that a shadow, or a curtain?

Coming soon... Garnet Ghost Town

2009-06-23T18:34:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day Weekend in Leavenworth

2009-06-21T15:56:00.000-07:00

Last month we were invited to spend Memorial Day weekend at the mountain house in Leavenworth, WA. Although it is a 6-hour drive, one way, both Trav and I were excited about returning to the beautiful Cascades and spending time with friends and family. So, Trav arranged to take a day off from work so we could have a full 4-day weekend and off we went. The area was absolutely breathtaking and the weather was gorgeous. We spent our days hiking, eating good food, chilling and catching up with loved ones.

Kaya frolicking in the meadow.

Osprey soaring.

Trav's skills came in handy when something in the yurt needed to be fixed. It's great living with a handyman, especially when I'm the epitome of the girl who cannot even hang a picture on the wall.

Too much good healthy fun can really knock you out.

Lili and David, best of buds.

This is what greeted us as we entered Montana.

Back from the west, for now.

Hi, I'm back

2009-06-19T12:21:00.000-07:00

It's been way to long and my blog is a barren landscape. I guess the question I should ask now is, is there anybody out there?

Not much of an excuse on my part for my blogging hiatus except the mistake I always make of waiting for the correct alignment of the stars and juxtaposition of magnetic forces to launch me into action. I believe that is one of the biggest flaws of my character and something which hinders me greatly.

So my mission now is to think and act, and hopefully revive my old forgotten blog chronicling life in Montana. Forthcoming: Memorial Day weekend in Leavenworth, WA; Garnet Ghost Town, MT; random.

For now, I leave you with the always entertaining and too cute Pinkers and the even cuter places she chooses to explore.

And her little collection of toys. I try to spoil her even though I know what she'd like best is to sink her teeth into a nice juicy live mouse, or squirrel. Someday Pinky, someday.

Pinky and the Squirrel

2009-05-13T12:06:00.000-07:00

One of our neighbors literally dropped in for a visit.

Notice Pinky watching intently on the right.

The little bugger kept taunting Pinky by coming up to the glass and then running back and forth on the deck.

Poor Pinky was too entranced to move.

She loved every moment of it and was sad to see the squirrel go.

The End.

It's Snowing

2009-04-24T09:42:00.000-07:00

It's. Snowing. Just a few flurries and colder temps, but enough for us to turn up the heat a bit.

And here I thought, hoped, believed, danced to the thought that it was spring. Tricked again.

Apparently Montana springs are not as generous as the exceptional past few days have been. I guess I have a lot to learn about this wild unpredictable lady yet.

And this is Missoula, in case anyone was wondering

2009-04-22T08:11:00.000-07:00

Beautiful Missoula, surrounded by golden hills and traversed by flowing rivers. These pictures were taken about a month and a half ago. Most of the browns and golden hues have turned or are turning green. I like the sight of Missoula's old buildings against the backdrop of these cradling hills.

Just another Montana sunset

2009-04-20T20:03:00.000-07:00

It's too bad my camera can't capture the beauty that streaked across the sky this afternoon. Sunsets have been becoming more majestic as spring unfolds. All kinds of shades and patterns have been rendering the sky a true canvas. Add the vibrant green and array of new buds and it is truly a sight to behold. I'm glad to leave winter behind. Nothing beats color and life!

Lush green spreading through the land.

Pinky's new hiding spot.

Happy Birthday To Me

2009-03-30T08:30:00.001-07:00

Today is my 27th birthday, my first here in Missoula. It was so nice to wake up to several emails from friends in Spain. I have been thinking more about Spain lately. They say when you reach the 3 or 4 month mark after moving somewhere, you really begin to miss the place you left behind and to question your decision. The novelty wears off, the adrenaline shifts back to normal levels. You look around and wonder "What am I doing here?".

I do not regret my decision in the least. I just miss my friends, family and familiar surroundings and customs. It is strange to think back on my last few weeks and days there. I definitely feel different than I did then. I was scared, excited, and busy wrapping things up. I went through all the motions and landed here in rural Montana, the last frontier, the US state ranking 4th in size but boasting a very low population density. Arrived in arctic temperatures that stung my skin and made my lungs shrivel up. A thick blanket of snow covered everything. I remember thinking, I can't even tell what this land is like, as all I see is white. And here I am, 3 months down the line, nearly 4, the snow has melted enough that I have seen what Missoula really looks like, I have a mental map drawn of the area, we have driven north, south, east and west, a little routine has been established in our daily life. The long-awaited coming of spring is inspiring but taunting, as it never really gets here, just enough to stir my heart and make me crave it, and then allowing the Queen of Winter to blast us with her icy wrath.

We went out to the Union Club for my birthday. I was surprised by how crazy it got there, being small town Missoula. A live cover band was performing country songs and a wide range of clientele was up and dancing, twirling and twisting, in pure country fashion. From university students shooting pool and downing beer, to old lone cowboys slowly puffing on cigarettes and lazily scanning the joint from beneath the rim of their hat, to a Native American mother and daughter with dark weathered skin who were amongst the first to get up and rock it, to clean-cut, middle-aged couples and long-haired, wrinkled hippies, and a perplexed Spaniard. The music, dancing and drinking went on non-stop until the lights came on at 1.30. Even then people didn't seem ready to head home. The buzz continued as people finished their drinks and socialized and departed in groups discussing where to go next. As a European whose country is infamous for its crazy late nights, I was pleasantly surprised to sense so much activity and fun on a Saturday night. All in all it was a great night and a fun experience for me.

Today will be no different from other workdays. I will do my translating work, and later make tiramisu as my birthday treat. I've been dreaming of and drooling over the idea of tiramisu for the last few weeks, and I figure today I've got a good excuse to make it. Or attempt to make it. As usual, Trav will be the guinea pig and judge. Not that he complains...

I should have been a weather woman

2009-03-25T13:08:00.000-07:00

I tell ya, the weather here in Montana is the craziest I have seen so far. It is really hard to forecast what will happen on any given day or even hour of the day. This morning we awoke to dark gray overcast skies and an unexpected snowfall, steadily covering the ground.

An hour later, a patch of intense blue sky and blinding white cumulus clouds broke through the darkness, allowing sunlight to bathe the land in a beautiful bright luster.

An hour after that, it seemed sunny weather was inching closer and closer to victory, only to be suddenly interrupted by something I have never seen before and don't know what to call. I would say it is hail, but as I understand it hail consists of ice pellets.

These are more like tiny snow-balls, firm and abundant, a curtain of them sweeping diagonally outside our window.

The transition from winter to spring is a rampant battle here, the first tentative signs of spring jolted by sudden arctic blasts. I must say I love it. Everything is definitely not written here. The potential for sudden change lies in every cloud and breeze and crevice. There is room for everything and everything falls together in a masterfully wild manner.

And who ever said talking about the weather was trivial? Or that it was a way to fill uncomfortable silences? I love talking about the weather. I love witnessing it and feeling the earth's power shine through it, and how it reflects in some way the ebb and flow of my life.

Vernal Equinox - First Day of Spring

2009-03-20T08:59:00.000-07:00

Beautiful morning out. Is spring really here to stay? We are heading downtown for some errands and enjoying the fact that it is Friday! Tomorrow we brave the top of Mount Sentinel, past the "M". Time to burn some of that winter hibernation fat! But not Pinky. Pinky is quite content just as she is.

To and From Seattle

2009-03-19T11:31:00.000-07:00

A couple of days ago I got back from a fun-filled weekend in Seattle, courtesy of my sister Lili. Unfortunately I don't have many pictures to show for it since my imposed three month camera withdrawal therapy made me overcome my addiction of snapping shots at every chance. In other words, I completely forgot I had it.

It was nice to spend some sisterly time together, getting a manicure, eating out, chatting, visiting the Seattle Asian Art Museum and Pike Place Market, cooking a gourmet meal, seeing old friends, taking walks with Kaya and Cole, worshipping O'Reilly. It was strange, and wonderful, to be back in the bustle and hustle of a big city such as Seattle. But I also missed the peace and quiet and beauty that is palpable in Montana.

It was also somewhat surreal to be back in Seattle because it had been 3 months, almost exactly to the date, since we arrived from Spain, and it was the first time I was departing from Seattle on a flight which didn't lead me back to Spain.

As we were landing in Missoula, the passenger next to me, a sweet middle-aged woman who thankfully didn't utter a sound until we landed (I'm not much of an on-board talker, and have come across, in most of my flights within the US, people who would try to strike up a conversation and maintain it even as I answered curtly and most uninterestedly, closed my eyes, and tried to sleep; true, this napping thing was a decoy to shift their attention away from me, but even that didn't seem to deter them from incessantly jabbering and asking questions) asked me if I was coming home to Missoula. I pondered that for a split second in my mind, and replied that yes, I was. She said she was coming home too and that she loved it here, and it was definitely obvious in the way she gazed lovingly out the window.

Lili was very nice to buy me a webcam so I could connect to Skype and chat, and I have been wallowing in the fun and silliness of Photo Booth. I've decided to save the more obscenely, horribly, distorted pictures for later on.

Pinky's Life

2009-03-11T14:31:00.000-07:00

Oh the struggle, the stress. It is a tiring job, finding the sunny spots on the carpet.

Spring Resolution?

2009-03-08T19:03:00.000-07:00

My camera is alive! Yes yes yes! After 3 months of not working for no clear reason, today I decided to pull it out of the drawer to see if its 3 month hiatus had done its magic. And it sure had. Don't ask me what I did differently. I did nothing differently. Such is the world of technology. Things work one minute, don't work the next. For such logical, advanced machines, they sure are emotional and erratic.

Hopefully this development will translate into more frequent blogging. Perhaps it could be my spring resolution. Perhaps... I won't make a promise I'm not sure I can keep. But I will try.

Today marks the beginning of Daylight Saving Time and that means longer days, warming temperatures and a stirring land. Can't wait to experience it after enduring my first Montana winter. But just when I think spring is here to stay, there is a snow storm. Weather here seems pretty unpredictable to my inexperienced eyes. Skies are usually a wild mix of brewing storm clouds, a mist of falling snow on higher peaks, patches of intense blue sky and crazy sunlight breaking through, all at the same time. And these conditions change at the blink of an eye. I don't think I could ever tire of watching the beautiful endless Montana sky.

Not much of comeback, but it's all I've got

2009-03-08T17:52:00.000-07:00

This could have been disastrous had I not spotted Pinky sneaking into the back of an open drawer.

Mission Mountain Wilderness

2009-02-08T10:14:00.000-08:00

Last weekend we went out on a day-trip to an area about 60 miles northeast of Missoula known as the Mission Mountain Wilderness. We were actually on our way up to Flathead Lake, but as the majestic, jagged, snow-capped peaks peered up from over the horizon, we were forever entranced by them.

Located on the Flathead Indian Reservation (Salish and Kootenai tribes), the Mission Mountain Wilderness is held in deep respect by the tribes and deemed to be a sacred area traditionally used for hunting, fishing, berry-gathering, meditating and as a place to seek spiritual guidance. The whole area is protected by the 1964 Wilderness Act, which calls for strict protection of the environment, making it a pristine haven for a wide variety of wildlife including bears, wolves, mountain cats, deer, elk, etc.

There really is a pull to the mountains there, a magnetic appeal that tugged at my heart immediately. I can't wait for summer so we can hike up there and explore the land and glacial lakes scattered among the heights of the range. I also pretty much fell in love with the rolling, golden hills at the foot of the mountains. It is definitely ranching land and cattle are plentiful, grazing peacefully under the limitless dome that constitutes the sky here - Big Sky Country. I love the open spaces, the morphing swirling clouds, the rolling hills that make me want to run and open my arms to the sky. The backdrop of a wild land, both beautiful and harsh, relatively untouched by the hands of man. I guess Montana is putting its spell on me...

Yahtzee Addiction

2009-02-05T16:31:00.000-08:00

Yahtzee is our new addiction. I remember playing this game with my grandparents when I was young and thinking how much fun it was. I could only vaguely recall the rules and what the game really consisted in. I mainly remembered rolling the dice- the rattling sound as I shook the plastic container, the dice clanking and clonking as they fell, the excitement of discovering a good "hand".

So when Trav and I headed out to Walmart to stock up on games to keep us occupied and entertained in the evenings before dinner, I could not resist the bright red box with Yahtzee streaked on its surface like a comet promising glory and riches, luring me back into its domains.

And boy oh boy if that wasn't a good buy I don't know what is. All the other games we bought are despondently gathering dust on a lower shelf as Yahtzee stands tall and proud on its rightful place on the dining table like the ever-powerful monolith that it is, unmovable, unquestionable, omnipresent. The pillar of our afternoon existence, the force that keeps us moving from lunch to dinner, and sometimes before and after those times too. We don't even bother dismantling our set-up after our round of games. Our scorecards, pens and the little blue container with the 5 dice remain at the center of the table, calling and waiting for our return.

Yahtzee is actually a very simple game. There isn't much strategy to apply, though there is some, and most of it is based on random luck. Such is the beauty of dice. That is why it is such an easy game to fall prey to, as one does not need to be in full mental shape to play and have fun. The point of the game is basically to get the highest points by rolling the dice in certain combinations indicated on the scorecard. Getting the highest amount of dice showing the same number, a full-house, a straight, 3 and 4 of a kind, etc. The master combination is, of course, the Yahtzee, or 5 of a kind (or of a number in the case of dice), and if all else goes well, very nearly guarantees a victory.

As I was curious about the origins of Yahtzee, I googled it, as I always do for anything I feel the slightest bit curious about. I thought it was funny when several pages mentioned players getting depressed about playing Yahtzee and not winning. Who on earth could let something so trivial affect them so much? How silly.

But of course that was when luck was on my side and I was beating Trav mercilessly, game after game, basking in the glory of my plentiful Yahtzees. It was easy to offer advice to Trav, to console him, to cheer and feel happy for him when he got a good roll of the dice. Afterall, with Yahtzees on my side, he didn't have a chance anyways.

And then my luck shifted, as all random events tend to do for no apparent reason, and decided to settle upon Trav. For the last week, he has been showered with Yahtzees, sometimes 2 or 3 in the same game, aside from getting all other hands he needs, while I scrape and plead only to get the measliest of hands. Even the times when I have finally gotten a Yahtzee, he has rolled the dice immediately after and, without fail, ... you guessed it... another Yahtzee under his belt. He can't even let me enjoy and savor the moment of victory, fleeting as it may be, or allow my smugness to shine. I have never lost so many times in a row in my entire life.

And let me tell you- it starts getting to you, nagging at your self-worth, making you bitter and expectant, thinking that maybe, in this game, your luck will change, you'll beat his ass. But it doesn't happen, exacerbating your utter disappointment in exponential increases as your tentative hopes are crushed over and over again like butterflies against the windshield of a speeding car. And then you transcend the scope of the game, of mere Yahtzee, and enter the realm of questioning your whole existence and life itself, and you ask, why oh why luck has deserted you, why does your defeat have to be so damn inversely proportional to the other person's outstanding, unbeatable victory. Why can't it be more equal and fair? Why can't your scores be within the same range? Why is it that so early on in the game your defeat and his victory are so clearly guaranteed? What is the fun in playing if you constantly know you're going to lose, before you practically even start to play? Is this a sign? Am I not worthy of some luck, of winning? And you try to accept and resign yourself to the fact that sometimes randomness is just like that. It's not personal. It's random. But can it really be that random when you ALWAYS lose, and he ALWAYS wins, and the distance between your scores is like the distance from earth to the outer limits of the universe? These are hard questions to ask as you keep on rolling losing dice. And no matter how hard you try to will the dice to fall in the combinations you need, and no matter how much you try to act like you don't care, peering down at your rolled dice in a seemingly uninterested fashion while your insides are churning with anticipation and desire, no matter how much you try to believe in randomness and the hope that one day luck will decide to return, your insides still writhe in agony and your mind still questions your purpose in life and your place in the universe as the possibilities of winning become more and more scarce.

We've decide that perhaps the best thing for me right now is to be on Yahtzee withdrawal. At least until I start winning again.

Reflexiones

2009-01-28T10:26:00.000-08:00

Barcelona de mis amores. Objeto de anhelo en las profundidades de mi alma.

A veces te busco en mi memoria, recorriendo y removiendo los confines de mis más recientes recuerdos para encontrarte al fondo o dispersa en piezas inconexas del presente, y al fin veo cerca una imagen tuya que respira, que late, viva, y me acerco desesperadamente, con miedo a que desaparezcas, y una vez ahí con mi impacientes manos abro las cortinas detrás de las que te escondes, rompo a través del transcurso del tiempo y de la visión borrosa anestesiada que éste inyecta en mi memoria, para verte y sentirte y suspirar a tu lado, como si otra vez nuestras sombras fueran una.

Las cosas en la vida no se consiguen sin sacrificio. El riesgo y el adiós son parte de la alegría y el autodescubrimiento, del misterio y las lecciones de la vida. ¿Y cómo podría ser de otra manera? Las brechas que se abren en el corazón, no son sólo dolor. Son también la pasión que nos conduce, que nos guía a sanar, a buscar, a escapar, a regresar. Cuanto más profundas son las brechas, más hondas son las cavidades del alma para sentir, para llenarse de emoción.

A veces miro por la ventana a mis alrededores, y veo la belleza que me rodea. Montañas, bosques, la capa aterciopelada de nieve, los copos que caen como diamantes silenciosos en el aire, los colores del amanecer y atardecer acuarelas que bailan y se entrelazan como amantes. Este es un paisaje salvaje, antiguo, bello pero duro. Las montañas como cristalizadas en el tiempo, vestigio del eterno envejecimiento del mundo, intemporales, permanentes, y sin embargo cambiantes con cada estación, año tras año. La vida vibra aquí, la vida pura, la naturaleza, las leyes cósmicas del simple ser, los ciclos de la vida y la muerte. Es una experiencia diferente. Me pregunto si llegaré a considerarlo mi hogar, una extremidad indivisible de mi cuerpo psíquico.

Cuesta dejar los lugares amados atrás, con todos sus recuerdos y seres queridos. Con las calles y plazas conocidas, y los recónditos rincones que aun siendo conocidos no cesan de sorprendernos. Una historia tallada en la arquitectura y fundamentos, una historia antigua colectiva y también personal. La nuestra y la de cada una de nosotros.

Yo me veo reflejada en Barcelona, ya que en cada esquina existe un recuerdo reflectante de mi vida. Era y sigue siendo parte de mi identidad, una parte a la que ahora me aferro con más fuerza y orgullo. Pero toda la composición de mi ser está cambiando, las piezas se están reorganizando y el equilibrio está buscando un nuevo eje, un eje que pueda integrar todo lo que soy y todo lo que puedo y debo ser.

La vida está compuesta de experiencias y recuerdos que tejen un colorido tapiz cada vez más complejo y rico. Los sentidos necesitan estímulos para vibrar y dar sentido a su existencia, y el alma necesita espacios y emociones para crecer y encontrar motivo. Todo sentimiento y emoción es una herramienta para acercarnos al equilibrio, un equilibrio oscilante lo llamo yo, ya que en cada momento depende de las cambiantes fluctuaciones de la vida y del ser, de la convergencia de factores y energías que en un momento dado coindicen y nunca se vuelven a repetir. La falacia, el error, la ilusión, está en intentar agarrar y congelar este equilibrio para poder aferrarnos a él, hacer algo estático de un elemento, o proceso, que por definición es dinámico.

La vida es una danza y el alma es movimiento. ¿Quién se quedará atrás por la parálisis del miedo o el adormecimiento de la excesiva complacencia?

Lili and Eli's Visit, Our First Guests!

2009-01-21T17:25:00.000-08:00

Lili and Eli came to visit us last week. They did the 8 hour drive from Seattle to Missoula and arrived Thursday night just in time for dinner. Trav and I were excited to have our first guests, and very excited to have our family/friends over.

Kaya also came. We were overjoyed to see her, and by her greeting to us, you could see it was reciprocal! Kaya enjoys sitting outside, watching the world and listening to the sounds and smelling the scents that escape us.

We were finally able to do the hike up to the M on Mount Sentinel. Unfortunately, for more than half of Lili and Eli's stay we were immersed in freezing fog, so we weren't able to see much except for the town, with all its quirky streets and shops and bars.

On their last day here, it had cleared up by lunchtime so we gathered up our hiking gear and proceeded to embark on the ascent. It was truly beautiful to climb higher and higher and get a bigger view of Missoula and the surrounding mountains.

That little path you see there was damn treacherous though. All that white is actually solid ice. It wasn't too bad coming up, with only a couple of minor slips that didn't end in butt-slamming the ground.

But on the way down... Man o man. Some parts of the trail were right on the edge of the very steep hill, so basically the choice was whether to venture onto the icy section of the path, which was practically covering it entirely, or walk on the edge where ice had melted and the ground provided a non-slippery, yet very narrow, surface. We soon found out walking down on the ice was out of the question unless we wanted bruised, mangled bodies for the next few days. So we teetered precariously on the edge, with only enough room for one foot at a time. It felt like walking on a balance beam, or channeling a hot model on a catwalk, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. I laughed nervously to myself, trying not to picture the ground giving beneath my foot and rolling down the hill, and feeling silly for being so wary. Fortunately I later found out that Lili, Eli and Trav had been feeling and fearing the very same thing. I guess we were all too focused on our own feet and finding different ways in our thoughts not to freak out to actually share our nervousness!

Here's Lili and me on the steepest part of the hike so far, right next to the cement M. We European girls are not very adept at this kind of stuff. Our tortured expressions screamed out "out of shape, non-Montana girls" with a dire need of roughening up.

Finally we reached our destination. We could have gone up higher, as many other people were doing, but the sun was about to set and we didn't want to get caught coming down in the dark. I don't even want to imagine, given we had no idea just how treacherous it would be... Turned out we had plenty of light left, but hey, better safe than sorry.

Lili and Eli with the Missoula background...

Trav decided to climb up a little further. It was very cold up on the mountain and he claimed it was warmer where he was standing, so we desperately scraped our way up to where he was, and it was warmer. Until I realized that of course I had warmed up by walking up some more. Smart way to get us moving... Promising warmer temperatures with every step....

Kaya enjoyed herself and was ready for more action.

Before the sea of sky.

And this is Missoula, with the Clark Fork River running through it.

And the danger begins. It only got worse and steeper the lower we got.

And this was our last night together. Enjoying food, wine and Spades.

Oh, and Lili's chocolate cake.

Morning of departure, and Kaya was sad to leave Trav behind. Isn't it heartbreaking how she rests her desolate head on his shoes? But, she was ready to go home too.

We were sad to see Lili and Eli leave, and look forward to more family&friend's visits.

The End.

Home Sweet Home, Taking Shape

2009-01-21T16:51:00.000-08:00

Warm in Missoula!

2009-01-09T09:51:00.000-08:00

It is 50 F/10 C here right now! Unbelievable. The sun is shining. Snow is melting and I can see trees and even grass; and even the characteristic M on Mount Sentinel overlooking downtown.

(This is not a picture of mine nor what Mount Sentinel looks like right now. Our camera just ran out of battery so I couldn't take a picture of the M from our deck).

It makes me more aware of where I am. With the heavy blanket of snow and clouds, it was hard to really envision that I am in Montana. I know the cold and snows will strike again, but I can imagine the relief and joy at experiencing the first bursts of spring. I cannot wait to see Montana in spring, summer and fall. It's nice to see where I'm walking and all the little details etched and carved and growing on surfaces. I'd better not get too excited though! As I know winter is only taking a little respite... and will be back will full force.

Missoula Pics Part 1 - Arrival & Christmas

2009-01-08T22:52:00.000-08:00

Finally, FINALLY, I am able to post some pictures. You asked for pictures, and pictures you will get. Sometimes you gotta be careful what you wish for because I'm on picture overdose. However, these pictures are not up to date, as there have been many more improvements in our apartment that I will capture and post soon (as soon as I have cleaned the house).

Arrival in Seattle... Pinky staring out at the big wild world out there.

Car packed and ready to go... An 8 hour drive awaited from Seattle to Missoula. Time of departure: 5 am

Pinky was not sedated this time and yowled and yowled for the first 30 minutes. Trav and I were both secretly fearing that our whole trip would be accompanied by her symphony of misery. Fortunately, she calmed down and behaved.

"Yeah honey, I know you want a picture of us on the road to our new home, but umm... I gotta keep my eyes on the road if we wanna make it to our home alive."

While it was not pleasant at all to get up so darn early when it was freezing cold out, we got to witness some beautiful sights. The kind of sights we don't see enough of... as the world sleeps and begins stirring from slumber.

Skies have impossible hues here that change and swirl and mingle like watercolors.

Sunrise over lake... Somewhere in eastern WA?

First pit-stop and my first encounter with bitter cutting stinging cold. My romantic idea of pausing to reflect on my journey as I looked into the horizon was brought to a screeching halt when the cold slapped me right in the face. Welcome to the Northwest.

Crossing the Idaho border. Who would've thought I'd end up being in Idaho...

Trav's super positive attitude even after 6 hours of driving.

Crossing into Montana... Big Sky Country or the Last Best Place as they say here.

Driving through the winding road on the Rockies.

Second pit-stop. It was FREEZING. One of the times when even breathing was hard.

Missoula industrial area. Even the spurting smoke has its beauty in this picture.

Opening the door to the apartment for the first time... Remember Trav doing the very same thing?

Trav, my sweetheart, had prepared a wonderful welcome.

Unwinding and relaxing. FINALLY here.

Everything was a bit of a mess at first. So many suitcases, bags, boxes, and no furniture to store anything. Pinky thought it was fun though. Her own little obstacle course.

First shopping spree for food. My first experience at Costco.

Pinky could not deny that it had indeed been her outside on the deck.

After the initial shock, last kicks of jet-lag and settling in, I could step outside and breathe in the reality of where I was....

Montana, Big Sky Country

The sun, looking like a big bright star. Which is exactly what it is. Duh.

Winter Wonderland

About 3 months ago, I posted a picture similar to this one that I had found on the Internet. A few days ago, I was really there.

The Christmas photo I intended to send out as a Christmas greeting. Better late than never they say.

Game of the day: Where is Pinky?

Christmas Shoot 1. Striking a pose.

Christmas Shoot 2. Communication.

Christmas Shoot 3. The awkward "Stop Taking Pictures of Me" smile

Our beautiful Christmas tree, a very sweet surprise from Trav

Wrapping some presents.

A nice day in Missoula. You can see the mountains in the distance.

An overcast day in Missoula. You can't see the mountains. We are literally in the clouds.

Pinky sniffing the cold outside air and pondering whether to venture out into that weird squishy freezing white stuff. The decision was no, she would not, she would return inside and scratch the carpet.

Trav was attempting to assemble our first bookshelf, while Pinky watched from a distance.

Those things are never as easy as they say on the box.

After several unsuccessful attempts, Pinky's impatience at our obvious human limitations drove her to step in and finish the job.

And then demand compensation.

Sunrise to the left...

Sunset to the right...

Beginning of the New Year in Missoula

2009-01-04T10:31:00.000-08:00

This is a post to wish you all a happy new year and to promise an update very soon. It is a beautiful sunny day here in Missoula, the third in a row actually. What a treat. It is a good way to start the new year.

We've been having awfully overcast skies and snow and even rain, so the days when the sun breaks through and casts its light on the glistening white mountains surrounding Missoula, I feel like singing and dancing and going out to enjoy the winter wonderland. Mind you, these days tend to be the coldest too, but thanks to Lili's very nice and thoughtful gift-a goose feather down jacket- it is more than bearable.

What we have been unsuccessfully looking for though are long-johns. Can you believe we haven't found a store that has any yet? My flimsy thin Barcelona flares do not protect me from the slicing, sadistic cold that tortures my frail, spoiled Mediterranean skin.

I am proud to say that I am becoming more weathered though. As I smugly love telling different people, after experiencing such frigid temperatures when we first arrived here, a few degrees below freezing seem pleasant! It's still hard to handle night-time temperatures, like last night, when it was 6 degrees F- my nose and fingertips begin to sting and redden immediately, my joints and muscles stiffening and teeth uncontrollably chattering. It is even hard to breathe when it gets really cold, as it causes me to cough a little as if my lungs were freezing with every breath.

But it is a valuable lesson to discover how the body adjusts, how I can gain a new perspective and make my body more tolerant to harsher conditions by also learning to focus my thoughts away from my bodily discomforts!

Well, this is it for now, as we are taking off to look for furniture and enjoy clear blue skies, cascading sunlight, and the invigorating nipping cold. (yeah, I try to see the positive).

Much love and luck and health to you all. More soon... Very soon...

So all Spaniards can gain some perspective...

2008-12-14T12:02:00.000-08:00

Current weather in Missoula:

Temperature: -3°F
Cloudy/Windy
1°F | -7°F

.................................................

El tiempo en Missoula:

Temperatura: -19°C
Nublado/Viento
-17.2°C | -21.6°C

I do not think I am truly prepared for this. I do not think I really know what those numbers mean...

Looking out a window to a snow covered Seattle...

2008-12-14T07:54:00.000-08:00

There has been a lapse in my blog and I have not been able to chronicle the main thing my blog title honors... my departure. The last few weeks have been crazy, confusing, exciting, very sad, busy, and it has been one hell of a ride. I don't quite know that I have been able to manage it all very well, wisely or efficiently. But I am here in Seattle now, after a 21 hour journey with a mixed bag of emotions spilling inside me, a drugged up cat who made me so proud and beat all my expectations, and a poor Trav having to deal with an emotional and at times snappy Spaniard.

We didn't get any sleep the night before departure since our cab was due at 3.30 am, so I was pretty much exhausted by the time we boarded the plane to Amsterdam. I even fell asleep right before takeoff. I figured I had to get my rest and really didn't want to have my tear-streamed face stuck to the window trying to grasp Barcelona with my longing eyes and heart in a heaving, weeping panic. I did look out a few minutes later, and the Mediterranean coastline looked so absolutely beautiful. It was dark out, and the lights down below looked like golden and aquamarine gems meandering in intricate, dancing streaks and curves.

The flight was pretty much uneventful, except for constantly worrying about Pinky. But she did absolutely fine. I did have to sedate her a bit because she is a bit restless and nervous. I had been dreading, having nightmares about, and just plain panicking about going through security at the Barcelona airport because I was required to pull Pinky out of her carrying case so the case could go through the X-ray machine and I could walk through the metal detector with her in my arms. As we approached the moment, I summoned all the strength within me and did just as they asked. And it turned out, to my absolute surprise and delight, that little Pinky put up no resistance at all, cuddled up in my arms without squirming or biting or clawing or even uttering a meow of complaint, and we just floated by with my heart swelling with pride. That made my morning.... I do know it was the sedation, because when we had to that all over again in Amsterdam to board our flight to Seattle, the sedation had worn off and it was much harder to hold her and put her back in her case. But, we managed. For the rest of the flight Pinky sat in her case beneath the seat in front of me and barely made any noise, which compelled me to constantly stick my hand inside the case to make sure she was alright. She always greeted me with a sweet, quite meow. I really think that despite being in unknown, uncomfortable, scary surroundings, Pinky knows she is safe with me, and that she is where she is supposed to be. The days prior to departure, as out apartment stood bare and lost its most familiar elements, Tamara told me Pinky would start yowling at the door when Trav and I left. I think she was terrified of being left behind...

So we finally touched down in Seattle and were greeted by Trav's sweet mom Carol. It was only 4 pm by the time we were in the car heading home, but the weather was wild. Dark, overcast, rainy and extremely windy, and to my Mediterranean spoiled skin, freezing. I felt so strange riding in the car, my whole life held in 3 suitcases on the backseat and my dear Pinky.

I guess things still feel strange. Honestly, it feels like I'm on vacation and will be returning to Spain soon. It feels like my apartment is still sitting as it always did, with my warm bed and all my possessions waiting for me to return. I guess it will take some time for it to sink in that this is now home. At least it is a beautiful morning out and I feel blessed to be awake for it and be a part of its silence and calm. I am looking forward to arriving in Missoula and really settling down.

P.S. Pictures will be forthcoming soon. Murphy made sure to welcome me here by doing something to my camera, which at the moment refuses to work

P.P.S. Pinky was smitten by the snow flakes softly falling off the rustling branches of the trees outside the window. A whole new world has opened up to her... I also showed her a snowball and she flinched a bit when her nose met the cold cold surface but she then proceeded to lick it. Smart girl...

Rest In Peace, Nitta

2008-12-03T06:54:00.000-08:00

Nitta viene de "negrita", por tu color de noche y ojos como la luna.
Me acuerdo cuando pensamos en ese nombre para ti...
Os echaremos de menos, a ti y a tu hermano.
...Espero que nos veamos en los sueños...

My Capoeira Girls aka Las Galinhas

2008-11-24T10:23:00.000-08:00

On Friday night I went out to dinner with some of my favorite girls. It was meant to be a farewell dinner but I just couldn't bring myself to muster a definitive goodbye last night... I met these crazy gals 6 years ago when we were all introduced to the world of capoeira.

Each and every one of them is unique and they are all some of the best people in this world. We are each so different from each other, and yet our energy together just flows in a wondrous way.

Cris, the steady, generous, dependable Guerreira - always up to anything in the most positive way you could imagine, an anchor in furious storms

Marta, the kind, sweet, passionate Salamandra - always living life with intensity and passion, a throbbing, open heart

Olga, the strong, sensitive, mysterious Gata Sauvage - always full of surprises and humor, a touch of light and darkness

Gis, the loving, completely unpredictable, old soul Cai Cai - always loving, learning and giving, a wise, weathered soul

Me, the (fill in the blank here), (and here), (and here) Graveto - always (fill in the blank here - but be nice)

Baptized las Galinhas by our capoeira mestre Sardao, we've outgrown the original meaning of our namesake and become a gossiping, sharing, squealing group of girlfriends. Funny that our name still suits us. No eggs yet though...

The weirdest things happen to us when we're together... Take for example the following picture taken that night:

What in the world is that on the right of Gis's face??? It looks like an enormous ear, but we surely would have noticed that trait in her after 6 years.

It took a whole lot of bewildered, fascinated and somewhat nervous examinations of the picture, accompanied by hysterical laughter, to discern what it really was. Can you tell what it is?

I will miss these girls. As Gis said the other night, who said galinhas (hens) couldn't fly??? One of us, the youngest, most adventurous one of us, little Baby, is already in Australia....

Home Sweet Home

2008-11-23T05:59:00.000-08:00

Here are the first pictures of our new apartment, which I have lovingly named My Homey.

Feel free to come inside and take the tour, but please make sure to wipe your feet at the entrance.

Here is Trav opening the door to OUR apartment for the first time.

A sneak peak into what's to come...

Partly kitchen, partly living-room, and plenty of light just waiting to burst into our home.

This is our fabulous, shiny new kitchen with vaulted ceilings. And a fan...Wow. I've never had a fan on the ceiling... This is classy.

Down the hallway to the sleeping quarters...

Our bedroom...

Another view of our room.... Wow again. A walk-in closet?! I'm so excited I may have to sleep in there for a few days to really let this reality sink in.

The kitchen... Open to a little dining area. How practical can you get? We Spaniards should learn.

Holy shit. Look at that light falling in into our living-room. Coming from a principal in Calle Nápoles, where light rarely blesses us with its presence (actually never), this is a big treat. Notice also the carpeting and heaters. Cozy cozy for long winter days. And a dream come true for Pinky- a claw sharpening/lounging area combo that covers the whole expanse of the apartment. I seriously fear for the carpet's integrity.

Here is the view from the kitchen out onto the balcony and livingroom. Fancy little island. Perfect for chopping, preparing food, and keeping an eye on Trav to make sure he isn't lazing around in front of the TV while I cook dinner. (just kidding sweetie!)

Yet another view of our super practical, glistening kitchen. Damn. We even have one of those little hose things in the sink. I can see I'm gonna be bragging about my new place and rubbing it in my mom's face (sorry mom!)

The real view. Those are mountains at the back. Yes, I know you can see that, but I just wanted to say it.

The balcony/deck. Cute cute cute, with a little storage area behind that door. Don't know what that black stain is though.

The view inside. That's Trav's shadow on the lower right-hand corner. Hi sweetie!

View to the right. Yes, those are even more mountains.

View to the left. Yes, those are mountains too. And trees. And grass. And a little path and bench. Gosh it looks like a postcard.

View from the bedroom window. Yes, there are mountains in the horizon there too. And impossible hues in the sky.

And last and DEFINITELY least, the bathroom. Unimpressive, but new and clean and with good water temp and pressure. Good enough for me!

Well, I will be there in less than a month, right in time for Christmas. Looking forward to witnessing a snow covered, Christmas decorated Missoula.

Don't feel like thinking of a title

2008-11-18T08:11:00.000-08:00

The time for departure is approaching fast and with it my anxiety is increasing. I can't say I don't still contend with doubts and uncertainties on whether I am doing the right thing. They are actually plaguing me more than ever and yet I know there's no turning back.

I am seeing my city in a new light, and missing it already. Trying to capture every detail, sound and smell, to keep the memories deeply and permanently etched in my heart. I realize that may not be the best thing for me, for in doing so I am trying to hold on to something that I will have to learn to let go of. I remind myself that I am not losing anything, nothing is forever disappearing, and that the key lies in integrating all these different sides of me and phases in my life so I can be more centered and complete, and hopefully, wiser.

I am afraid of letting go of who I know myself to be here, of not having that idea to identify myself with when I'm in Missoula. I'm afraid of facing new challenges and not knowing how to react to them. I'm afraid of having to dig deeper in myself to find my true core and courage. I'm afraid of feeling lonely in the big vast lands of the west.

These are also all the reasons why I'm making this move. All these limitations I find within myself let me know this move is precisely what I need. The things we fear most in ourselves don't usually go away. We can try to run and suppress them, but the truth is, they always come back with greater force. As Trav sometimes says, it is better to just face the things we fear most as they always come back knocking on your door. Much of the fear lies in our own anticipation, rather than the actual event.

A city like Barcelona, defined by its ease and comforts and laid back quality, leads to a certain feeling of complacency, of not wanting to budge, of wanting to maintain this stable yet somewhat illusory balance and feeling of safety. It doesn't have many opportunities for greater challenge or learning. Seasons inconspicuously blend into one another. You always know what to expect. This is in my experience at least; I am not speaking for anyone else. There is comfort in this kind of routine and I find myself addicted to it. Perhaps it's not such a bad thing. And yet I feel an unquenched thirst in my soul. So here I am teetering on the edge of change, the biggest challenge lingering ahead.

It is hard.

Stephen Fry in America: Mountains and Plains

2008-11-16T02:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I watched an episode of BBC's "Stephen Fry in America". It was the episode called Mountains and Plains, in which Fry journeys down from Montana into Texas with his quirky, British humor.

I had to laugh. Comments like "Nature's got just a little bit potty (British for crazy) in this part of the world. It's a rather American characteristic to overdo it and nature is very American here" as Fry drove down through Montana and admired the snow-covered, looming Rockies, made my day.

The episode is up on Youtube and as they say in Spanish, no tiene desperdicio, i.e., it is well worth watching. For one, there is a part on a hippy couple living down in a bunker in Kansas which used to hold a missile aimed at Russia.

There are more episodes as Fry treks across the US and I will be looking forward to watching them!

On faith

2008-11-14T03:03:00.000-08:00

I'm amazed at how strongly Christianity is rooted and overtly exercised in American culture. I like to follow blogs of these so called modern Christians whose mission is to lead a life growing in Christ and sharing the gospel with non-believers.

Coming from a country like Spain, which carries an ancient, complex tradition of Catholicism and was one of the greatest perpetrators of the Inquisition, it is perplexing to me to realize how religion has lost its status and influence in our culture. Traditions and customs remain, and it is not unusual for families to perform Christian ceremonies even if they are not practicing Christians; that is actually the standard habit. Perhaps the centuries of repression and cruelty imposed by the church have worn down people's faith or maybe just the exercising of that faith, or perhaps they have become more intimately devout. Maybe I am just not usually surrounded by the believing kind, though I have come across a few, just a few, firm believers here.

In the US, however, I am amazed by the unrelenting drive, faith, motivation and steadfast belief in God, and by the new, creative ways in which believers are reaching out to their communities to keep up with these modern times and recruit new potential followers, 'lost souls', who are not drawn by the old, stifled tradition. I am baffled by the throbbing presence of God in their thoughts, feelings and daily actions, a life percolated by the desire to come to know God personally and the belief that God is always in control and God is always good.

At times I wish I had that fervent faith, that light in darkness to guide me back home, that pillar to help me live a better life in myself, in relation to others and in engagement with the world. That warm, embracing presence shooting out from my heart reassuring me that I am not alone. The thought that no matter what, even as questions and uncertainties plague and blind me, somebody always sees the bigger picture beyond. It seems like a beautiful idea to believe that somebody out there is always looking after you and forever loving you, despite your flaws and self-doubt. To have somebody always firmly believe in you, even as you give up on yourself. And to have to find the courage and strength in yourself to believe this, especially when your world comes crumbling down, when the only thing you can rely on is a stirring in your heart and a certainty in your soul. If you can't prove it you can't disprove it, right?

I find my "faith" in different ways and perhaps some would say that is God using a different name. I find my faith in nature, in the universe, in the complex network of interrelationships on which life is built, in coincidences, connections and hidden meanings, in creation, dreams and love, in being an active, sentient being in this crazy day and age, whose actions affect the great infinite wheel of life to a greater or lesser extent.

I guess what may be lacking in this approach are the guidelines to becoming a better person, for if there is no omnipresent judge, no book of rules, to oversee my actions and thoughts, who can help me measure my impact, positive or negative, on others? Which is when I look elsewhere for becoming a better person- I look at history, at being one in world of billions, at the diversity of peoples, places and situations, at the common links we share as human beings, at my own personal reactions to acts of kindness and cruelty, be it to me or others.

I once knew a guy who said he didn't believe someone would give up their own life to save another's if he/she didn't believe in something, in God (it still amazes me that he would think that), to which I replied that sometimes those selfless, risky acts stem from an impulse and not an idea, and that it was unfair to say a non-believer wouldn't risk their life for another. There are stories, news, of children and animals risking their lives if a loved one, or anyone, is in danger, and I believe that is a result of love and not faith. I believe what moves us most is love, whether we have faith or believe in something or not. And it is in our capacity and best interest to be aware of our own actions, feelings and thoughts and act accordingly to what we know is right. It may be comforting to have a set of guidelines and teachings to follow, but the struggle is there for us all nonetheless.

I guess I won't be finding any answers while on this earth and in this body. I do find faith and the idea of a kind God to be a beautiful thing that can bring immense light and meaning to lives which may be otherwise compromised-physically, financially, emotionally, spiritually- and help endure the hardships in unimaginable ways. And I do sometimes wish that it had had a greater presence in my upbringing. But there are people I love and who love me, and plenty of ways to find a sense of personal fulfillment and connection to life, and that is enough to make me want to evolve and move forward in my journey.

She's such a little tease...

2008-11-12T11:34:00.001-08:00

The sultry look enticing you to rub her furry tummy goodness...

The rather awkward looking wink she is still trying to master...

Of course the second you attempt to pet her, she morphs into a wild beast and attacks your hand. She is the ultimate femme fatale, luring you with all her seductive charm to put your guard down and then literally tearing your unsuspecting little self to shreds.

Yes, she's got her booty right on a sock. Pinky likes to steal Tamara's socks and underwear from the clothesline and bring them to me. I usually know in advance when she's on the prowl when I hear her utter some deep, resonating, guttural meows in the other room. Without fail, I find her wrestling with a sock or a piece of underwear. Tamara's learned to search in Pinky's secret corners for any missing items from her laundry.

(Yes, I am a tad obsessed with my cat)

Happy Birthday Pinky!

2008-11-11T01:47:00.000-08:00

Today is Pinky's 4th birthday! On November 11th 2004, Pinky graced the world with her presence and brought immense joy into my life .

Pinky is a handful -playful, hyper, sweet, nervous, funny, restless, naughty, cute.

I am also sure she believes she is a dog. She plays fetch with little paper/tinfoil balls. She chases her tail. She stands on her hind legs and leans against you to get your attention.

Although she is fixed, she hasn't lost any of her spunk. She's as active as ever.

(sorry Pinky, for showing your most embarrassing pictures...)

I'm so proud of her today, as I think back on her life... Yesterday I took her to the vet for the second time in a week, to update all her shots and paperwork, and she was such a champ.

For the first time EVER, she didn't want to get out of her cage and willingly went back in after her shot!!! That is an enormous achievement, believe me, and makes my life so much easier.

I always used to try to brainwash her telepathically and in her sleep, by repeating "The cage is good, Pinky, the cage is good, you love the cage, the cage is the ship that will carry you home".

But it never worked. The wild, highly stressed-out beast I didn't know she had in her would emerge and I have the scars, literally, to prove it.

But yesterday I finally saw some results... Or maybe she just needed more exposure. Or maybe she is just more grown-up.

Happy Birthday Pinky!

From Barcelona to Missoula

2008-11-10T11:49:00.000-08:00

We got an apartment!!! Well, Trav (and Carol) did... Thanks sweetheart!

After a week of intense searching, pondering, driving, exploring and waiting, we (they) finally found a place!

It's not what we initially set out to get, which was a small 2-bedroom house with a little yard (we could dream couldn't we?), but you know what.... It looks great!

It is a 3rd floor, 2-bedroom apartment with windows at the back and at the front with views of mountains on each side, and even a little wooden deck with room for a couple of chairs.

The complex has a shared cute little courtyard and even a weight/exercise room (not sure what it includes exactly yet, but Trav is in the process of finding out).

I may just have get physically fit to endure that long Montana winter and post-departure blues that will surely test my strength and emotional balance.

I will post more pictures of the actual apartment once Trav emails them to me. I begged and cried and whined and tried to blackmail and bribe him to do so today, but to no avail. He wants me to savor the sweet anticipation, but I've made it clear I will only do so for a couple of days tops (until he makes the 8 hour drive back to Seattle).

I am happy and relieved, despite the reality of what is quickly approaching starting to sink in... The hardest is yet to come, but at least I have a sweetheart and a home to go to, and a little Pinky to accompany me on my journey.

Girls' Night Out - La Paradeta, Noviembre '08

2008-11-09T04:42:00.000-08:00

Last night my roommate and best-friend Tamara and I went out to celebrate our 11 years of friendship and 2 years of living together in our first apartment. Nearly 2 years to the day, we were blessed with a fantastic, easy, smooth opportunity to take over my sister's and her husband's old flat, along with all their furniture, kitchenware, utilities and electric appliances.

It was quite sudden and we had to decide and act fast. The time was right, the planets and stars were aligned. We could not miss this opportunity to materialize our dream. So we didn't hesitate and jumped right in.

We've had a wonderful 2 years here. The cohabitation has gone so smoothly, with no fights, no discussions, no tensions. We've practically lived in perfect harmony.

When we first moved in here, we bought a little piggy-bank to collect all our loose change. We thought that maybe one day, at most, there would be enough to cover a few beers at the bar around the corner.

Well, never underestimate the power of loose change...

After two years, we had accumulated a grand total of 55.25 euros! This called for a higher level of self-pampering and celebration, so we decided to treat ourselves to a grand, festive meal at La Paradeta.

La Paradeta is a loud, rowdy, canteen-style restaurant in Barcelona which offers THE BEST, ABSOLUTELY FRESHEST seafood in the city at market price, which means an insanely low price for the insanely high quality seafood and incredible, orgasm-inducing flavor you are lavishing your ecstatic taste buds with.

It is not, however, a place for wusses or for those who don't want to get their hands dirty, and especially not for those who have issues with bottom-feeders. La Paradeta means cutting loose and is not for the faint of heart (or stomach).

Just take a look at the remains on our plates, if you dare:

And the utter satisfaction/sheer bliss on our faces:

Of course the only drawback was that we barely spoke throughout the whole meal, which kind of beat the purpose of our outing. The only sounds we made were to grunt in pleasure, suck the juice and tender meat out of the wide variety of shellfish, lick our fingers, and occasionally say "Hey, are you gonna eat that over there?", or "Wanna exchange that razor shell for my cuttlefish?"

Ah, how primitive, focused and uncommunicative we become when scrumptious food is involved.

Feeling deeply satisfied after our meal, we proceeded to find a bar in Borne to have a drink. That is when we came upon this sight which makes me realize just how much I am going to miss Barcelona:

Two Saturday night Estrella beer cans sitting side by side, on a little stone bench next to one of the doors of the 14th century Gothic cathedral of Santa María del Mar. I don't know why I was moved by this scene. It just carries so much of Barcelona's flavor, with its ancient history and modern laid-back attitude so gracefully intertwined.

After my pre-departure nostalgia moment, the night spiraled down into silliness.

Damn. What is up with my eye??? I had no idea I could do that. It's kind of unsettling.

Yes, We Can!!!

2008-11-04T23:46:00.000-08:00

Woke up to the sound of the TV in my livingroom and as I walked out to greet my roomate, I saw OBAMA HAS WON THE ELECTION!!! I shrieked and jumped and laughed and felt so giddy and proud. Today will be a good day. I am SO glad to be making the leap to the States now!

It reminds me of March 2004 here in Spain, when the Socialist Party (PSOE), led by Zapatero, won the elections with a massive turnout of voters who wanted CHANGE. We made it happen, and today it has happened again.

Now, I realize it is not wise to put all our hopes into one leadership. Obama has a lot to live up to now and he is faced with a huge mess to clean up. We are yet to see how much of what he has promised he will really be able to achieve.

But today I am happy and relieved. I'll take change, hope, unity and diversity over prejudiced, fear-mongering, divisive manipulation any day.

Election Day

2008-11-04T01:34:00.000-08:00

Praying and knocking on wood today from over here in Barcelona! It's all I can do since as a US citizen who has never lived or been registered in the States I cannot vote (I called the US consulate to confirm this).

Glad to be moving to the little liberal pocket in an otherwise conservative state... Missoula is known as the "hippy town" of Montana, and is notable for its environmental, political and civil engagement and thriving arts scene. I am relieved to know that I will be able to feel somewhat at home in that respect.

For now, crossing my fingers for Change!

Taking Shape

2008-11-02T03:56:00.000-08:00

I guess I didn't mention the latest details (by latest I mean 2-3 weeks ago) in my upcoming journey:

Departure Date: 12th of December 2008
Destination: Seattle and then... Missoula, MT!

How's that for different from Barcelona? I honestly feel like I'm going to a different dimension far away from Earth. I have no clue what to expect. Except for FRIGGIN' FREEZING COLD and A LOT of snow.

I told Trav I would have to prepare myself mentally and physically. Put on a whole lot of weight for insulation and grow out all the hair in my body for extra warmth. He seemed rather horrified with this idea. But I told him he didn't have to worry, because I could look something like this:

Have you ever seen anyone pull this position off with such endearingly cute, dainty style, while bearing their excess weight and overgrown body hair?

But alas, Trav was not convinced.

So tomorrow the real chaos begins... I will start with packing boxes and rummaging through big dark closets that haven't been opened for the longest time. There is so much stuff here I am not even capable of conceiving. When one moves one realizes just how much stuff, a lot of it junk, is accumulated over the years. I guess we are natural born hoarders. It's hard to judge what we really need and what could be disposed of. But I believe it is a good cleansing exercise for the soul.

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T03:51:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween to All! aunque pasado por agua...

I couldn't get the image of Floppy and me disguised as wandering minstrels out of my head .... So here it goes.

There's just something so inspiring about days that celebrate waning boundaries, coalescing worlds and alternate realities, burning fires and endless possibilities for rebirth and renewal...

May your inner demons feel confident to show their faces today and engage in lively celebration, realizing they do not have to live in confusing pain or anger, but may rise from the ashes of your soul, reborn and transformed into your allies; just as the phoenix fanned its wings to ignite a fire and then rose with renewed resilience from its own burning demise

Halloween Hormones

2008-10-30T02:31:00.000-07:00

I have been procrastinating from writing in the blog lately. I wanted to write but I was dry. I think it has to do with the fact that it is nearly that time of the month, when hormones go awry and start bickering with one another, leaving me in a mired mess of confusing messages. I know not to trust myself when this happens. I get negative and pessimistic and try to compensate by telling myself "Don't listen to them. There's a rampant battle going on and they're using you as a vessel to make themselves heard". Hormones can be very bitchy and manipulative.

It is nearly Halloween too, or All Hallow's Eve as it was originally known. The day when different dimensions collide and converge and all kinds of beings make the crossing into our world and scare the shit out of us by going Boo! in the night or pulling a horrid face in the mirror while we're brushing our teeth (ok, that might just be our own, first thing in the morning or after a long day). Well, that is yet to happen to me and I hope it never does. I like the idea of being sensitive to and believing in something beyond my human senses and comprehension, but I'd rather not meet any creatures from another world. I already had my share when I used to "play" with Ouijas.

Apparently Ouijas are still in style and sold by Toys'R'Us. Not only that, but now they are designed for all ages and types. Take for example, a Ouija, in pink, for all those little, innocent, pink-princess type girls who would like to invoke the spirits of the dead and have a little tea party. Sure, there's the alarming possibility that they might get possessed or sucked into the spirit world, or be traumatized for life, but hey, at least it'd be done in pink.

Packing Away My Feelings

2008-10-24T14:45:00.000-07:00

In my last post I didn't mention my feelings as I was packing away the things that make my apartment my home (which I am sure has kept you up all night and is keeping you on the edge of your seat right now with nail-biting, nerve-wracking anticipation. Well, this is my blog and it is about me. So there).

I don't think I have really processed what it meant. I don't mean to make it any more dramatic than it should be, but I do have a tendency to succumb to gloominess and melancholy and wallow in all things lost.

I think that as I was pulling down my wall hangings and putting away my little treasures, I was on some kind of auto-pilot. I felt compelled to write about what I thought I should be feeling, what I was expecting to feel- sadness, desolation, angst. But as I tried to write, I struggled with words and could not bring myself to write something that was not really true to my feelings.

I knew I had this chance to start with my packing and make this move more real. I knew it was a blessing that I could get a "free shipping" of my stuff. I knew I had to do it. So good old auto-pilot took over. Even now, with a definite date and purchased ticket, my most precious stuff nearly on its way, it seems like it is all a dream, like I will still be here two months and three years and four decades from now.

Maybe my psyche is making sure to buffer the blow and maybe my excitement, intuition and certainty are neutralizing the distress. Maybe it is just too early yet to comprehend what I will be leaving behind, or perhaps I am in some kind of denial of what is happening. And maybe it's just not such a big deal after all.

Maybe I just shouldn't think so much. I'm gonna have a beer.

Life's Little Omens

2008-10-24T05:57:00.000-07:00

I packed my first suitcase today, filled with all the items in my home that are dearest to my heart. Gifts from my best-friends, things I bought when I first moved in here almost 2 years to the date. Funny how life sometimes can give us clear opportunities to achieve the things we deemed hardest, sometimes not leaving us a moment to hesitate and that precisely being what pushes us to do those things.

My mom's friend Sam is a BA flight attendant. Coincidentally, she is flying to Seattle tomorrow and very kindly offered to take a suitcase with my stuff along if I arranged for someone to pick it up there. So I hurriedly scanned my apartment and chose the things that would be the first to embark on the journey. A part of me is on its way...

The lesson I extract from this seemingly trivial, coincidental event of somebody offering to take a simple suitcase, is that life is good, life is helpful, when it understands the reasons and motivations behind your dreams and plans; reasons that are true to your heart and soul, and consider themselves more important than fear, uncertainty, loss. Instinct and a deeper knowledge that is not always evident but leads you to do the things, sometimes blindly, that you need to keep your spirit alive and thriving and to tap into the true potential within you.

Life then opens its ample arms and presents you with opportunities to make the transition easier, to give you a sign that you are on the right path. Maybe it is just to compensate for all the hardships that will undoubtedly still put your strength and faith to the test. Maybe it is just a random, meaningless coincidence subjected to my own human rationalization and desperate need to know I am doing the right thing.

Whatever it is, it makes sense. And that is what I need, and for what I am now thankful.

Thanks Sam!

Cockroaches and Centerpieces

2008-10-22T03:00:00.000-07:00

Pinky was mad this morning. When I arrived in my room after my shower this is what I found waiting for me right in the middle of my bed (I'm sure she placed it there on purpose so I wouldn't miss it, the dumb human that I am):

I am not sure if she did this in retaliation for my forbidding her to bring in live cockroaches into bed with us at night. You see, some time ago I was pleasantly asleep when I started to feel an agitated sniffing going on, around and beneath my body, ensued by the little pitter-patter of cat paws running around the bed, only to return to the insistent sniffing in every crook and cranny of my body and hair and the jabbing of little paws beneath me, desperate to pull something out.

Thinking this was just early morning feline banter, I tried to ignore it and continue in my sweet sleep. But the sniffing, probing and poking, and crazy running on the bed continued and became more and more persistent, desperate and annoying.

Suddenly a thought slashed through my sleepy stupor: What if she REALLY is chasing something? And if she is sniffing me so insistently and thrusting her paws underneath me... could it be that whatever it is is using ME as cover?!

With this realization, survival instinct took over and I jolted right up just in time to see a little black shadow emerge from beneath my hair and dart for the corner of the bed, onto the wall, and down to the ground under the bed. Pinky quickly followed and leaving me no time to recover from the shock and confusion, reappeared, majestically leaped onto the bed in all her feline prowess and proudly presented me with the gift she had been having so much fun with, at my expense: A COCKROACH sticking out of her mouth, its antennas waving wildly before my eyes.

I screamed, opened the door and frantically pushed Pinky out with her trophy. My whole body started itching uncontrollably and with it came compulsive twitching. I jumped on the bed, grabbed the sheets and started waving them up and down in a crazed frenzy, half expecting a shower of cockroaches to fall upon me. Fortunately, there were none, but irrational fear and disgust have a way of convincing you otherwise. I changed the sheets and attempted to fall back asleep. Eventually I did, and dreamed I ate paella with shrimp, squid, and... you guessed it- cockroaches. Yuck yuck yuck.

After work that day, I returned home and found a series of cockroach body parts forming a little trail from my room to the inner patio. The story did not end well for the little fellow- a movie on this horrible tragedy must be in the works down there in Cockroach Land, it could be their own version of gore. But Pinky sure had a blast using me as her playground.

She has occasionally started the sniffing game in the early dawn, and my threshold is at its minimum. I immediately and thoroughly explore the bed in search of unwanted visitors. There have not been any more, but I think Pinky treasures the memory, the fun and glory, and tries to reenact the situation and revive those good old feelings that so warmly fill her with joy and pride. Almost makes me feel sorry for her.... Almost.

(By the way, the reason there was a cockroach in my house is not because I live in a filthy, unhygienic dump, but because they are common in Barcelona and since I live between the ground floor and the first floor, they have easy access up. Pinky left my room through the window and returned with her prey)

Back to the item left on my bed this morning...

She made sure to shred it nicely actually. It is rather artistic come to look at it closely. Maybe I could market it as an elegant centerpiece for tables. My mom could be my first customer, since I accompanied her yesterday to the hotel where her wedding reception lunch will be held to decide on the menu and room decoration. One of the issues was what centerpiece to place on each table. It is not as easy as it sounds. I think this could do the trick. White, simple, flowing with character, and Pinky has even achieved the whole fallen petal effect.

(P.S. Para los Sathis: Sería comercio justo ya que le daría una latita por cada creación)

Swaying like the tide

2008-10-18T18:05:00.000-07:00

I find my feelings and mindsets move like the tide. I am completely fine one minute and all of a sudden a wave of confusion washes over me, jolts my footing and unsteadies my balance.

In my darker moments, when the excitement of the upcoming changes temporarily recedes and is replaced by anxiety, sadness and worry, I picture myself in this new place, and in my doubt-ridden mind it seems it will always be night there, the sun won't ever shine, the sky will always be overcast. I find myself trapped in a blizzard yearning for my sunny Barcelona and sinking deeper into regret and despair. I count the things that could possibly go wrong and believe me, you can always come up with more. Despair is endless and wickedly alluring. It engulfs you and fills you, seeps in and out through your pores and casts a shadow all around you. It's hard to see beyond the darkness that surrounds you, that feeds off of you.

I then look at pictures of the beauty of winter, the white, electric shine of snow, the stillness that pervades, the refuge it gives to restless souls, and I feel at peace. I remember the rainiest of days and how I cherish them here, where it doesn't rain so much. I always find rainy days to be a much needed respite from the frenzy of life, a time when everyone seeks shelter and watches the soothing hands of water cleanse away the filth, release the tension accumulated in the air; providing a chance to reflect and unashamedly recoil into oneself, hidden, protected, from the bright, glaring exposure of the sun and its unyielding demands.

I remember braving Parc Guell in the midst of a heavy rain, as people scattered to find cover. Armed only with a flimsy umbrella I walked the loop around the entire park, paused at the top overlooking the city, admired the gentle, curving dreams of the artist, breathed in the smell of fresh, wet pine needles and I felt complete, alone and yet accompanied, infused by the power of the place and the moment, bare, wild, solitary, vibrant, and available to my eyes and heart only. The dream was mine.

I'm not really sure where I intended to go with this... I got kind of carried away. But I think my point was that even dark, gloomy days, and cold, unsympathetic temperatures, and thundering, blistering storms, hold a key to balance, conceal a gentle truth and lesson, beyond their apparent harshness and despondency.

I'm reminded of a quote by Paulo Coelho: "Even a stopped clock is right twice a day".

This is what happens after too much fun

2008-10-17T15:00:00.000-07:00

I should have put it away...

In flagrante delicto - Caught in the Act

2008-10-17T04:27:00.000-07:00

Here is yet another video of Floppy craze (and mine I might add- I can't blame him entirely).

As you can see the horsing around ended in disaster- the knocking over of one of my mom's favorite plants... If you listen carefully at the end you can hear the Spanish version of "Oops", which is "Uy", followed by an abrupt ending of the video. I quickly and stealthily proceeded to conceal any of the evidence before my mom discovered our crime and unleashed her wrath upon us...

There were no witnesses except for Floppy and myself. And we were bound by being partners in crime- neither would turn the other in.

(although technically I could, if I was a mean-spirited, disloyal friend, since I don't actually appear on the video, nor did I actually knock the plant over...)

If our crime was indeed discovered, we would have to become fugitives and roam the streets as disguised wandering minstrels while the world's top intelligence agencies conducted a worldwide hunt, scouring the land for any trace of us.

Confident that the crime scene was clear and wouldn't raise any suspicion, Floppy and I exchanged a knowing glance as I departed, an unspoken promise that we were sealed in our fate.

But I forgot to erase the video, the ultimate, unquestionable, most reliable witness, and with that little mistake died our last desperate chance of being cleared as culprits- the blatant denial of our actions.

And it came back to bite us as we were confronted and cornered this morning into confessing our crime. Luckily, Floppy and I were able to weasel our way to absolution by lavishing my mom with our love, affection and irresistible charm.

So my advice to you, when committing a crime, is NEVER put it on film, NEVER forget to erase it from the camera, and NEVER download the video onto the victim's computer.

(se me va un poco la olla, ya lo sé)

Floppy Craze

2008-10-16T07:29:00.000-07:00

This is my mom's darling, crazy 15-month old pup called Floppy. He is absolutely hyper, naughty, mischievous, unruly and incredibly sweet.

Domestication of the Wild Mountain Man, Genus Travisae, A Unique Endangered Specimen

2008-10-15T13:10:00.000-07:00

(Photo: Wild Mountain Man in repose with Wild Apartment Cat)

By request of the subject in question, the Wild Mountain Man, I will post the guidelines to an effective domestication of his kind. Needless to say, he is the only one remaining; actually, the only one of his kind to have roamed this earth.

(Disclaimer: This research project is still being conducted. Therefore, I reserve the right to make any changes in my hypothesis or conclusions or advice)

First off, a brief description of the specimen:

Physical traits

- Tall

- Strong
- Muscular
- Presenting a distending, completely malleable belly, full with a lint-trapping bellybutton
- Abundant body hair
- Broad, sexy chest, decorated by a lion tattoo
- Taut arm muscles adorned by a star tattoo
- Cute, perky, well-toned butt
- Strange, disconcerting chicken wing on his right shoulder
- Sensitive, searching green eyes (NOT hazel)
- Wide, toothy grin accompanied by very characteristic dimples
- Strong, pleasing hands
- Dirty blond fine hair that turns lighter under the sun

Behavior traits

-Responds to the names of Travis, Sweetie and occasionally Smartass

- Unpredictable sleeping patterns: will occasionally wake up before dawn or in the middle of the night and go do something, will crash in the middle of the afternoon for a several hours snooze unless pestered by me, the researcher/girlfriend

- Luckily for me, does not snore

- But does speak in his sleep, maintaining entire conversations or jabbering just plain verborrhea

- Unpredictable actions and outbursts: will go jogging at 4 in the morning, will go on a 60-mile bike ride in an unknown country, will clean out a very dirty room-b'com-new ecosystem with unknown creatures and bacteria (my guest-room)

- Requires strong physical exertion, of all kinds
- Requires abundant food
- Has a sweet tooth, a very sweet tooth
- Makes a lot of sounds
- Is constantly creating, building, writing, drawing, something
- Constantly questions everything and seeks answers
- Consistently ~~irks~~ ~~exasperates~~ challenges and stimulates his girlfriend

Personality traits

- Passionate
- Stubborn
- Talented
- Creative
- Proud
- Complex
- Sensitive
- Impulsive
- Deep
- Funny
- Serious
- Honest
- Intense
- Blunt
- Tempered
- Loving
- Unpredictable

Guidelines to an effective domestication:

1.- Give plenty of love and affection
2.- Stand up to him when deemed necessary
3.- Keep your cool; scream into a pillow if necessary
4.- When appropriate, point out his shortcomings, acknowledge your own
5.- Feed abundantly and well (if possible, add ~~an aphrodisiac~~ a "girlfriend-oriented, TLC inspiring substance"* to the food while he's not looking)

[* Note: Term modified after the subject posed his concern that the term 'aphrodisiac' might lead to a misinterpretation]

6.- Do not wake him up from a nap, he gets grumpy
7.- Do not label him (except for this study, in which he is The Wild Mountain Man)
8.- Challenge him
9.- Make love to him
10.- Love him and be loved by him

Conclusion: The results yielded by this ongoing study demonstrate that it is not possible to domesticate this specimen. Rather, one must learn to coexist with him.
The key: communication, honesty, and a whole lotta lovin'.

Note: This study is probably biased given the fact that the primary and only researcher is me, his girlfriend.

I love you!!

Catalunya really is like The Shire (hobbit land)

2008-10-15T02:24:00.001-07:00

Fear and Courage

2008-10-14T01:54:00.001-07:00

We are being bombarded by news about the economic crisis, the social unrest, the stirring of violence and despair, the overwhelmed crisis hotlines. It is honestly worrisome and downright terrifying. Funny that it is at this point in my life that personal events have laid the stepping stones for my leap across the ocean, and yet the current state of my destination, and the world for that matter, has spiraled down into chaos. It makes me question my sanity and sense even more. Am I crazy to do this, now? Is my common sense severely hampered? Am I making a BIG mistake? Should I put my plans on hold?

Funny how it can be so difficult to distinguish between feelings and thoughts that seem inherently different. Am I being crazy stupid or courageous? Am I acting brashly or facing a challenge? Is this absolutely insane or entirely what I need? How can I tell intuition and instinct from fear?

All I know for certain is that I am doing this. I believe that once your choice has been made, you must look ahead firmly and stand by it, if you know in your heart there is no turning back, your mind has been solidly made up. Doubts will show their wicked faces, but I have to trust in myself, my capacities and my strength. As another wise man once said "Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear", or in the words of Mark Twain "Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear. Except a creature be part coward it is not a compliment to say it is brave".

That rings so true at this point in my life.

My Mountain Man Calling

2008-10-13T11:17:00.000-07:00

I'd better introduce Travis, one of the reasons why I'm making this leap and one of the biggest I might add. We have been in a long-distance relationship for 1.5 years.... I can barely believe it. We met in August 2006 in the Cascade mountains.... it sounds so much more exciting and exotic than just saying in the plastic, jarring Bavarian town of Leavenworth. Travis is one of my brother-in-law's (Eli) bestfriends. Our first night we stayed up until dawn under a bright moon. We kept in touch via letters (yes, actual, physical, paper letters) for a few months. I hadn't written a real letter in so long, I didn't even know what to say. One month would pass from letter to letter, so it was a strange way to stay connected, but one that we both treasure. It is really where our little romance was born. Several visits followed as we both frequented the Barcelona-Seattle-Barcelona route and we are finally about to begin our very extended visit...

Trav is currently in Alaska being a burly wild mountain man, busting his ass off like they do up there in freezing temperatures. He is a strong, rugged, nature loving, creative, talented, stubborn, funny, intense, complicated, honest, blunt, sensitive, old, and young, weathered soul. Sometimes he can really ~~get on my nerves~~ challenge me but he is a sweetheart. He can build, make candles, work wood, draw, write, cook, knot, paint, fix, basically anything that requires some creativity. And the good thing about his art is that is is useful. They say real creativity = innovation + practical use.

He is my love, trulie (that is our very funny nickname), and we are about to embark on our biggest adventure yet. Let's see what unfolds...

Musings long before I leave

2008-10-13T09:24:00.000-07:00

I am still two months away from departing. I remember when two months seemed like a lifetime, when as a child summer vacation in my eyes was a wide open road, infinite and inviting, when the two weeks until Christmas passed at an agonizing pace. That has definitely changed. With growth, maturity, responsibility and planning, it seems life becomes a series of appointments, duties, plans and schedules that shape our perception of time. One whole week can be defined by the paper to turn in or the big meeting to attend, the year slips by as we eagerly await for August.

Now I am not sure if I want time to slow down or speed up. There is so much for me to wrap up here. I want to savor every moment, every street, every person passing me on the street, and yet I find myself falling into sadness at everything I am leaving behind. I do not want to get caught up in idealizing all the little things here I used to ignore or take for granted. I want to remember my city and love it and always come back to it, but I want to look forward too, into the unknown, across the big expanse of water and stretch of land, into what I am putting all my efforts and hopes in. It's a fine balance, contending with the loss and nostalgia, and fitting in the excitement too. Such different emotions engaging in a wild lively dance- fear, courage, melancholy, excitement, joy, doubt, confusion, certainty. I never quite know which one or two or if all will strike in a day.

At the moment I write this I am sitting in the comfort of my living room in Calle Napoles, the balcony door wide open as the city sounds drift in to accompany me as I write this post. I still don't know where exactly I am going. How crazy is that?? Hopefully I will know in the next few weeks. I wanted challenge and adventure.... Well I got it and there is no turning back!