Shriveratkinschemistry

The other day I broke down laptop. I guess it stopped, in sheer exhaustion, like a horse galloping have been too long. Those who understand computer told me it was not worth fixing it, so I spent a few evenings going through the electronics department of department stores, or lost on the internet looking at different characteristics of each model. There's so much supply is great, yes, but what can I say, and do not know quite what you're looking for is to go crazy. But it is not just with computers. About everything. A few months ago, a bookseller told me that twenty years ago his job was much easier more comfortable. For him and for the readers, I said. Fewer titles were published, but at least when a customer walked into a library is not overpowering, and what was more important to him, the bookseller knew he had. It is now impossible, he complained. For many hours I can not drive him absorb all the news that I receive each week. I have come to a point, but a few names, do not even know what I have.

I say, it's great that there is a lot of everything, but unless you have very clear what you want, enter the mall to look for anything is as dizzying as the letters with meals and endless lists of names so rare Many bars, which eventually I always asked the first thing I read, more than anything to not ask what goes into every dish.

With clothes, three quarters of the same. Before going to get some sneakers, and as there were only four or five models, you asked the clerk your number, I tried them and walk away. Now, enter a superstores of these and you feel so ignorant or just as guilty as if your life had done sports or you had been doing wrong all the time. Tennis shoes for cycling, walking or jogging, jogging in the countryside or to sail, and within each mode, last but not least, also have to know if it is to use common or occasionally. A little neglect will end up telling your life and shameful secrets seller to not screw it up and take you home mountaineering boots instead of sneakers the same as always, when doing jogging called out to run and roam the countryside, as people have done all my life, had not yet been named trails. And then you stay in your house looking a bit pissed off your shoes before putting them on, because the seller, but it gives you in the nose that does not quite know what you're talking about, I wondered if you are a pronator, supinator or neutral and maybe, to not look bad, you said the first thing that happened to you.

And the computer that you want? Asks the seller, who maybe have not even shaved. As for writing, occasionally surf the Internet. Nothing fancy. Come on, I have not thought of doing calculations to send a rocket to Mars or the like. We have this model, you explained, but for that price I'll take this one, which has more megs, better processor, and can watch movies on bluray . And you, even if you have any film on bluray that or whatever, you wonder if you go wrong if you ignore, and even if you do not need you're hesitating to buy because you have offered to might not want to annoy more than the lad, but not just decide when you pass in front of these notebooks , so small, now all the rage, and you keep watching, although it always makes you a little weird when you see people in the stations and airports looking gawking screens, as if being disconnected from the internet a couple of hours were a sin. And finally, to resolve the issue, strip down the street in the middle, just like when you're tired of reading a restaurant menu, and a computer point out almost at random, because you want to finish soon. And you go to your house with a huge box under his arm and the same uncertainty of when you expect the waiter to bring you the dish that so weird.

PS: This text is written with my new computer, so it seems that, for now, I have hit ...

© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, February 2011

Anniversary Wishes For Work

23 F

guess compared to 23 F I must belong to a generation lost. That is, we have many years to remember the time but then did not know what it meant what was happening. I remember perfectly that day, and one afternoon a few weeks earlier, doing homework in my house and Adolfo Suarez on TV announcing his resignation. I was eleven years on 23 February 1981, and a colleague did not go to school the next day, but what attracted our attention to those that we were that night had made a few movies for keep spectators entertained. I never knew if it was true or an exaggeration of a colleague, but that was the biggest news for me, I liked both movies, and secretly thought that if the deputies had another night locked in Congress could achieve the same for a long night film session, if I left.

From that day I have no memories of fear, or even uncertainty. How would have eleven years in the town of Seville. Maybe, if the survey had been extended, although it had been just one more night, yes I would have realized what was happening. They might have been disappearing little by little my fellow desk as a precaution, or maybe I myself would not have returned to class until things had calmed down. Who knows.

Thirty years later, the images coming in Tejero full investiture session Calvo Sotelo thrill, but also as they come to light new data, from the perspective of time produces a shame to see a handful of Civil Guards nostalgic for Franco hitting shots, and the tapes with recordings of voices and García Tejero Carrés, the only civilian processed by the blow, shouting the name of Spain as his own and nobody else. These "live Spain" in 1981 now even seem ridiculous. But now, listening to more than one pronounce the name of Spain in this way cocky, barracks, as if they belonged or biting into a mouthful that only they could prove just as the coup thirty years ago, I the chill I should have felt then, if not understand what was happening. I guess it's a matter of perspective: perhaps in thirty years, have eleven years now feel embarrassed to study the discourse of some politicians and pundits of television today.

© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, February 2011.

Killtec Jackets Level 5

We say "Hello"
hello, hello, hello
and a "hello" we return "
Among
groans "hello",
"hello" from mourning.

And no one greeting
is my flesh from your body,
my mouth to your ears, my voice
between your breasts.

"hello" here I am,
lost between your fingers. It is cold
free!,
is a: I'm here and I'm sorry.

hello again and here I am again, with your eyes
myself
'm wrapped in your presence.

hello

"Hello"

"Hello!"

God knows I see you!

I Am Sick And Have Smelly Urine What Does It Mean

Back Egypt

I arrived in Barcelona tired and satisfied, but a few mistakes I almost chained not to travel. When

control step and I'm about to board the AVE, from the window let me know and tell me where I've come back because the date of the ticket is just a month ago. It turns out that the travel agent sent to the institution had invited me tickets, but none of us care to look at them, and they had the wrong date. All I can do is take a taxi to the airport, make that gamble to a letter in case the meantime you can book a seat on any flight. Few things overwhelm me just arrived just in time to the sites, having to go running, as if your life depended on it, to catch a train or a plane, and rarely do not get more than half an hour to spare. Even last year, I think I told here, I spent a while in an airport gate until it opened.

But mid-morning I'm sitting on a plane to Barcelona. AVE preferred, actually. It is more convenient, and five hours go far. I brought my notebook to work, but the plane is impossible. Too narrow, pen ink becomes mischievous and sometimes escapes jets, and not always points to the role. The night before had seen on TV that a curtain of clouds covering Spain and Portugal overalls. Luckily I AVE, I thought. For ½ cup: Before takeoff the pilot said that we will encounter turbulence. And when a pilot says something like when the dentist tells you you're going to hurt a little. So, let's take a few pots. To write, time to drop by today.

Despite the bumpy air, came to Barcelona in one piece and in the evening participate in a panel on Literature and the Holocaust. Before an audience of school teachers, we talk about fiction, reality and other things, about what each one of us who participated in the symposium think it is best to tell students what happened in the extermination camps. Not bad, but I just do not feel comfortable.

The city, as always, spectacular. They said on TV these days in Barcelona could not be a pin because it was celebrating the Mobile World Congress , but I see it as bustling and cosmopolitan as ever, like the first time I was, many years ago.

Late afternoon and rain on the roof of the terminal, and rain the next day. But water does not discourage me to walk, as I like to do whenever I visit a city and, despite the blanket of water in the morning kick me around the Paseo de Gracia advantage that I have an appointment at the other end of Barcelona noon. I deviate a bit to enter Laie, one of the many bookstores in the city which is worth going just to see the local and cafeteria, I stay a moment looking as if it were not raining, the facades of the Casa Batlló and La Pedrera, which always seemed to me as buildings where the hobbits would feel as comfortable as if they had not left the Middle Earth even many years before Peter Jackson adapted to film Tolkien's work.

It's almost time to eat when I return to the city kick in the opposite direction to attend another meeting. I would like to say hello to a few dear friends of Barcelona, \u200b\u200bbut I have not had time: in the afternoon I have to take the AVE, and I already have the ticket fixed.

arrived in Seville at night, and on the bus when I climb into the station, a young woman claims that afternoon Canal has heard that they have found the body of Marta del Castillo. The states with such vehemence that seems to have realized that it must have been confused with another girl, Huelva, Mari Luz Cortés. So convinced is he has not even noticed that although they had found the body in the afternoon, even with the help of all the CSI team would be impossible to have found nine in the evening. With great joy, she recited one by one the names of all those involved in the murder of the young Seville, and now, since they no longer escape, welcoming the fact that getting killed in jail. What Ignorance is dangerous when mixed with imagination. How sad is sometimes overhear conversations that you do not fancy. Mp4 bag, I placed the headphones and I stand but still missing a couple of stops to get off. It is the only way not to feel that the bus has become the set of Save me. Viewing staff, no wonder I loathe these programs so successful.

© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, February 2011

Streaming South Park Quicktime

Philosophy

less than a year ago we started the experience of the insistent . In this period, the idea grew slowly, spreading to all who want that English is more than just other foreign language in the curriculum.

The insistent insistent grows and adds new

Living English and Latin American culture is a major goal of our group now gathers and precious collaboration, and yet another writing team: a group of students who can not meet at the same time that the original group, but participates with beautiful and inspirational texts. Other people are coming, joining the insistent . And hopefully many more to come!

Last February 11 organize our first official meeting of the persistent . It was a phenomenal celebration, cheerful and festive, as the insistent has become a way of life for us. We

insistent because we studied even after completing the course and regular refresher courses. We believe there insist that because learning is a continuous practice. And, mainly, to insist for us, means not ever give up the face of difficulties and always follow in pursuit of our dreams.

If you are a student or former student of Cervantes Institute in Rio de Janeiro and will thus result identifier with insistent to be, join us! The insistent await.

System Has Not Been Modified For Itunes

finish the day with the joy of Friday afternoon. I am happy that after so many months I only have seven or eight weeks to finish my new novel, raw. Then come two or three more months of work, but the hard part is now nearing completion. As always, I write in silence, isolated, without being connected to the Internet even, and turn on the radio I hear that Mubarak has resigned. Nobody knows what will happen now. During these weeks I have heard many times on talk radio more than a dusting off the specter of fundamentalism as blackmail to keep the dictator in power. I'm not sure who will win the final in this revolution, if the moderates or radicals, whether democracy or fanaticism, but today I believe that many days of relentless protest in Cairo have served some purpose, that the dead have not been in vain, that maybe, despite what some claim to the twisted tusk, is possible to hope without fear.

For years I have been delaying a trip to Egypt, I've never been, by laziness, apathy, or lack of desire, I do not know very well. Perhaps it is time to think to pack to see the pyramids in the not too distant future.

May.

© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, February 2011

Archive Panty Girdles

Barcelona Madrid (and III: The Museum of ferrrocarril)

Tuesday is our last day in Madrid, but we have the bird until the afternoon. There are still many things I have to see, and I take this morning. The first is to take the metro to Delicias, to take a look at the Railway Museum. There are several rows of cars, steam locomotives, and a room with toy electric trains which, although now I am happy with the train, I was never fond of children and curious objects used to furnish me a few chapters of the novel I'm writing. I have a few

doubts, and I can not solve just looking wagons and locomotives. There are several groups of children visiting the museum, and who act as guides are men older, maybe retired volunteers who once worked at RENFE. When a group of students leaves I ask one of these guides that I would like to ask you some questions. I tell him that I'm writing a novel, and I ask you to tell me what the car used by the train at the time that is set, and some technical details, as if, for example, then jump on a train up could be as simple as opening the door and do it. This gentleman is very friendly, and the few minutes that way with it are very helpful, perhaps the most profitable of the three days I spent in Madrid. And there is still mid-morning to continue walking the streets of the city, outdoor track, as I like to call it. We even have time to spend some time in the Prado Museum.

At seven o'clock, when we arrived at Atocha, my feet hurt from walking, and, as always when I travel, I regret not having brought a bigger suitcase, and fewer books. As usual, I do not even have time to read it had, and I've bought so many that the seams of my bag threaten to explode.

going to be a strange week: tomorrow, Wednesday will be as if it's Monday, and very soon I shall leave to travel again. We must seize every day as you can to keep writing. I like this feeling of working every day, see how the story progresses slowly, the satisfaction of a job well done but nobody has been imposed or order it and you never know if someone want to post or read when you finish. A writer friend I've always felt great admiration I have long said that perhaps the most difficult of my literary career was done, but whenever I'm working I try to think it's the same as when I started writing the first time, but have spent many years: do not even know if anyone will want to publish what I write, but that should not matter, because, after all, the only thing that counts is the happiness of meeting with yourself . What happens then when the time comes to write the word priceless END and not depend on me.

© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, February 2011

Swollen Painful Feet Hives

Madrid (II, the comedy club)

History Museum in Madrid is closed for renovations, and no railroad open Monday, but no problem: I dedicate the morning to visit the same places as the characters in my novel. Funny, and how strange too, walking places your imagination has gone well in recent months: the Retiro, Paseo del Prado, Footbath, Puerta del Sol, Gran Via, a club hostess and imagination in a side street of this famous Avenue. Although the clouds are gone and now sports a bright, cold morning, the reality is confused with fiction, as in my novel Snow Falling on Madrid, despite the sun imagine the dark gray sky, just as the afternoon of Sunday, snowflakes, trams, coats and hats for sixty-one years, people walking bent so that you can barely see the face, and a man looking for other men who were once friends ...

climbed to the roof of the Círculo de Bellas Artes. How time flies. Soon it will be eleven years that I attended on his way to Bilbao, a reading of Don Quixote in this building. The views are magnificent, and now with the same perspective of a bird, I see again the places where my characters move.

Later I stayed with that rush of energy and excitement that is my beloved Oscar Oliveira, the press officer Algaida. I tell him about my new novel, a passage in which appears our friend Greg Leon, who has given me his name and profession as a journalist for one of the protagonists, and Oscar laughs and encourages me to finish it because he wants to read it. Friends do not know that many times the secret impulse that a writer needs to finish a novel is the enthusiasm of others.

I have to take some books about Madrid, and I'd rather buy now and save them in the suitcase because on Tuesday I do not spend all day carrying with them. In the morning I have been in positions of Claudio Moyano. Leo Gregory has recommended me a book but not going to give me time to go, so I entertain in the afternoon section History of the FNAC, and then I strained at the Casa del Libro.

I bring a few titles targeted in a notebook, and while I wait my turn to serve me off the alarm. Accustomed to the alarms go off at times when you enter a trade with the only result of the caretaker reluctant gesture that tells you that passes, there is no problem, I can not imagine that the young woman just out of the library may have taken something. One of the employees runs after her, in short sleeves despite the cold weather in the street, and return both to the store. The girl does not lose his smile in no time, even when he shrugs, as if the matter did not concern her, and starts you get so many travel guides Lonely planet as if to go around the world. The bookstore employee carries a box and tells him that are ninety-three euros. She, without blinking, out of fifty-two notes and put them on the counter. As sufficient money has been stolen I wonder if the guides because of a natural impulse to appropriate what is not yours or if, as the bookseller has told his companion, this is one which comes to steal to order. Anyway.

has already darkened theater as we approach the Häagen-Dazs. Tonight television program recorded The comedy club. It is not easy to get tickets, let alone with so little time, but Maribel works on TV, and after a while we're both in the audience, front row. We do not know who is going to participate today, but Eva Hache goes out and announces that it will be Antonio Molero, Dani Mateo, Goyo Gonzalez and Julian Lopez. I'm excited to see Antonio Molero, which both made me laugh Los Serrano. Once a writer wrinkled her nose because I did not understand how fun Los Serrano. Yes, I replied, and Los hombres de Paco . I like West Wing or M ad men does not mean it is not able to have a good time with other less elite series. I could not convince her. She to me either.

We had a great time. It's fun to see The comedy club on TV, but live much longer. I assure you it is worth spending an hour without stopping to laugh.

© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, February 2011

Sking Rail Blue Prints

Madrid (I) A little gross

Leaving trip on Sunday morning, and although not too early the city has that forlorn, as science fiction film in which the inhabitants of Earth have disappeared and only stayed a few: the bar where breakfast waiter, who is also an oven, and a customer who comes to buy a loaf of bread or coffee as it passes slowly Sunday newspaper pages and in the AVE station in Seville few travelers do not seem to have that rush so annoying and contagious for those who boarded the train during the week.

Now I brought the notebook and pen, just in case, but I also promised that during these three days I will not write, just take notes, take pictures and walk about the places in Madrid where my move characters. I have to visit a few places, the rest is improvised. Until not too Madrid years I was excited, I confess, but little by little I learned to enjoy the city, despite the bustle of many streets, although it has never ceased to seem upset, I have come to find stimulating.

I can not remember how many times I went through Madrid or between autumn 2009 and spring 2010. Many, and I think the last time was the day I closed the book fair in Retiro. So did a couple of months he started to write my new novel, and had written many pages in the AVE, leaning over the table, the talks concentrated to repel annoying people on cell phones, looking from time to when the view out the window.

I have looking forward to Despeñaperros. The past few weeks I've been writing several chapters that happen on a train between Madrid and Andalucia in January 1950, exactly sixty-one years before now, and seeing the cliffs and the wild landscape of Sierra Morena for me is like traveling past but also within the pages of a book that so far only exists in my head and my notebook and I keep as a treasure. Everyone who looks through the window is not me, but any character that has accompanied me since the spring and will continue to accompany me for a few months.

When is very close to reach Madrid see a shantytown. I call attention to a huge SUV and a luxury tourism sheltered under a sunshade. Shakes the contrast. I wonder if in some of these huts will also have plasma TVs and laptops. However the TGV travels so fast that the landscape changes quickly. After a moment we arrived at Atocha station, and as I am one of those guys so weird people who like the cold, on the platform and begin to feel more active, wanting to move or do things, like every minute was full of limitless possibilities, the same delicious sensation coming to a city that is not yours without further obligations to whatever you like do at all times.

As it is Sunday, as we left the luggage at the hotel we get a walk to the flea market. We went through the market in San Miguel, where he had been an evening for over a year, but today you can barely walk because there are too many people. It makes your mouth water with cabinets full of food, with the smells: a squid, to kebabs, to beer, wine, octopus, to vegetables to meat hot off the grill.

In America, the bars have stoves in the street so that people can smoke without going cold. Businesses say that these devices have been exhausted. They are open all stores the center, but some of the museums that I have to visit are closed for construction or not open until Tuesday. Gran Via, in the direction of Cibeles, the sky is so dark, the storm is inevitable. And it starts to rain while some neighboring streets crowded a moment before, now are empty.

We went to the theater to see Les Miserables , but the only places left are of reduced visibility. I am very complacent for these things, so I prefer not to enter. Better to keep walking around the city. Although rain or cold.

Tomorrow is another day.

© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, February 2011

What A Mississippi Riverboat Looks Like

insistent Spanish, a

Bianca Stamato

I started studying English

the thirties. My generation did not study English in school, because here the major languages \u200b\u200bwere French and English.

My first contact with the Hispanic world was in 2005 when my husband and I went to Buenos Aires and Montevideo with a group of friends. Of the six Brazilian tourists only one person had studied English. We do not speak English, we thought, mistakenly, that we would defend very well in the language of the "brothers." Rotten lie, as my teacher Joan, our "Portunhol" We proved fatal, said phrases such as "*" is longe? "Instead of" is it far?; "* AJAS who gives?" Instead of "What do you think the bags fit here?" "* Scuse!" Instead of "sorry!".

A year later, he was in love with the English, so I spent my vacation in Chile, in a beautiful place called Pucon. Again, I tried unsuccessfully to talk to my "Portunhol." I have several travel stories on my disastrous attempts to speak English. The most funny and ridiculous happened when I needed to buy personal hygiene products at the pharmacy and did not even know how to say simple words such as comb and brush. Distrusted even that "colírio" called drops ... so I spent half an hour to make myself understood. Everyone laughed at me, even my husband. Besides pregnancy

not get comfortable communicating in a language so similar to Portuguese, I felt a deep shame for being so alienated from the reality of America. Throughout my life until then had studied English, French, Italian and, moreover, German. He had visited the United States about five or six times, but never interested me by my neighbors.

After the uproar over my ignorance supine decided to study English in early 2007. The did it for love of language and Hispanic culture. I do not for professional reasons or something similar. For three years I'm holding on just to be in love with Pablo Neruda, Vargas Llosa, García Márquez, Isabel Allende, Laura Esquivel, Eduardo Galeano and many others. I can not explain why I like both studying English. Must be a little blood from my great grandmother Rosa Argentina that runs through my veins. Today

Caetano singing along to "I'm crazy for you, America!".




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