<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675</id><updated>2011-07-08T02:59:32.314-06:00</updated><category term='randomness'/><category term='No Soy Emo'/><category term='El ingenio y la ociosidad'/><category term='Twitter'/><category term='I am a Geek'/><category term='mexican independence'/><category term='Music'/><category term='september 15'/><category term='complaintopia'/><category term='Photography'/><category term='Lists of Awesome'/><category term='Delirios Chafones'/><category term='Life in Calgary'/><title type='text'>Memoirs of a Mexican</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;br&gt;...Yes, I am Mexican and don't travel in a "burro" or have a giant "sombrero".
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&lt;br&gt; &lt;i&gt;FYI: This blog is written in Spanglish.&lt;/i&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-801824205471804832</id><published>2009-08-24T14:04:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T15:07:02.761-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lists of Awesome'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaintopia'/><title type='text'>My 10 Twitter Commandments</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Many different sets of commandments have been written for and about Twitter. Possibly very similar to these ones. However, with new people getting on twitter everyday, is never too late to instruct and educate them about &lt;strike&gt;the correct etiquette&lt;/strike&gt; common sense and logic when it comes to tweeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behold my 10 Twitter Commandments! Awe-inspiring nuggets of truths written and shared by my own mortal self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thou shalt be judged based on the complexity and thoroughness of your tweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Discouraged: &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;omg u guys r u feelin liek partying or wat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Encouraged:&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;A great value of antiquity lies in the fact that its writings are the only ones that modern men still read with exactness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thou shalt tweet something meaningful and appealing to the general audience&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discouraged: &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I'm here... walking down the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encouraged: &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Tonight at 10pm (central time) the new complete NIN album will be available for download in this super secret link.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thou shalt not re-tweet (RT) old, overused memes and viral videos. When in doubt, JFGI (Just Fucking Google It)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;RT: Omg u guys, this Keyboard cat is funnnnehh! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;RT: Hhahaha look! a spartan kick animation with jenga lolololol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thou shalt not tweet full stories that disrupt my time-line and all the space continuum in the universe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how I read them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- And then she died.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- She was getting really sick and she wouldn't talk or eat at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- But then I found out she had a terminal disease&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- I asked for her number and we dated a few times&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- She was damn pretty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- I met this girl once in the bus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- I just remembered this really emotional passage of my life. I'm gonna tell you all about it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;5.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thou shalt not provoke the bots on purpose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tweeted "&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;boobs&lt;/span&gt;": &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;@SexKitten666&lt;/span&gt; is now following you.&lt;br /&gt;You tweeted "&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;financial&lt;/span&gt;": &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;@HelpWithStress&lt;/span&gt; is now following you.&lt;br /&gt;You tweeted "&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;w00t!&lt;/span&gt;": &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;@wootboot&lt;/span&gt; is following you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You notice a trend. You want more followers. You know what you have to do, you know is bad but it's tempting and it's easy. It's eating you alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RESIST.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do Not Feed The Bots&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; They will unfollow you anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;6.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thou shalt not &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;#trend&lt;/span&gt; just for the sake of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example 1: &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Omg u guys lets all tweet &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;#iateyourcookie&lt;/span&gt; and make it a trend! Go, go, go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example 2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;What's going on in &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;#iran&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;lately? &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;#tehran #cnn #neda #green #iphone #mac #apple&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;7.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thou shalt fix your typo by deleting the previous tweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;b&gt;The option is there for thou. Use it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- I'm so tired. I can't wait to get out of this hell whole.&lt;br /&gt;- Oops. I maent hole, not whole.&lt;br /&gt;- *meant. Geeez what's wrong with me today? I can't seem to type porperly&lt;br /&gt;- Properly! Dammit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;No. Just... no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;8.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thou shalt not ask people to RT your tweet ten times a day / Thou shalt not RT crap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's annoying enough to see people RT'ing left and right just because someone finished their tweet with "&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;please RT&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;"I have a buddy that has a buddy and he needs to sell some crap ASAP. Anybody need crap? please RT" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;And there you are, feeling all humanitarian and understanding. You RT'ed the shit out of it X 100.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;9. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thou shalt resist the temptation to be the official weather forecaster. Thou and many others art doing the same at the same time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- It's raining! :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- It's sunny again! :) :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- Oh no, It's raining again but is not too bad :|&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- Now is getting bad :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- It's been raining for 5 hours :( :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exceptions to this case: Tornadoes, Hurricanes, Alien invasions, &lt;a href="http://peacebridgecalgary.blogspot.com/2009/08/is-it-getting-hot-or-not.html"&gt;Local Bets&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;10.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thou shalt not creep out thy follower via DM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Everybody talks about public tweets: what's acceptable and what is not, but nobody ever thinks of Direct Messages and, while not many, there are still some rules about DM's to abide by which will be self-explained through the following examples of creepiness:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- Hey, where in [insert random city] are you tweeting from?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- Hi! :) I like your picture. Do you have more? Can you send them to me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- Do you have Google Latitude? Can I add you? Plsss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- Wanna meetup for a private tweetup?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- I can't talk here. 140 chars are not enough. Add me on msn? we can talk for hours!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- Where are you?! You haven't tweeted since yesterday at 1:58pm, it's been 9 and a half hours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;- I think you know what I know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; ----&gt; cryptic message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;BONUS Commandment: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Rule 1 and 2 still apply on twitter. Don't be an idiot.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;PS. Failure to comply with the previous irrefutable statements will result in me unfollowing you at my own biased discretion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Please RT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-801824205471804832?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/801824205471804832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-10-twitter-commandments.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/801824205471804832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/801824205471804832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-10-twitter-commandments.html' title='My 10 Twitter Commandments'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-5757594408793902170</id><published>2009-08-17T11:59:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T12:16:03.017-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaintopia'/><title type='text'>Women + Me: The Official Multi-titled Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How I deal with women | How women should deal with me | My guide to dealing with women | Why I don't have any female friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;Warning: Contains a language most misogynous in nature. Feminists: please avoid-- I'm an insufferable, unfair writer. Thank you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SomdfoMxYJI/AAAAAAAAAMU/evLQ64U0Bx8/s1600-h/motivator_cunt_punt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SomdfoMxYJI/AAAAAAAAAMU/evLQ64U0Bx8/s320/motivator_cunt_punt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370997197308518546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Indeed, I've had enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us begin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I will not talk to you about men. I reserve my self-formed neutral opinion about them for myself and my own purposes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Don't come talk to me for advice on relationships unless you're willing to hear a cynic, sarcastic opinion possibly involving the random mentioning of porn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Unless a funny, ironic event is involved, I don't need to know about your boyfriend not paying attention to you. Most importantly, I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Black is the way to go. Don't ask me for advice on colour combination unless you're dressing in different shades of gray and black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I think your pink iPod case, pink cellphone, pink bag, pink earphones, pink boots, pink purse and pink wallet are disgustingly corny and lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Don't ask me how to accessorize, just know that extra-huge sunglasses that cover your nose and half of your forehead are completely avoidable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I will show the same enthusiasm for a Louis Vuitton bag as I will if I found a penis-shaped potato chip. Actually, take that back - finding said chip would be a LOT more awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Your obsessive use of the word &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'like'&lt;/span&gt; with your whiny voice is equal parts horrific and annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. No, I don't think your chihuahua dog is cute. You might as well would've gotten a rat on a leash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Cars are awesome. Computers are awesome. Your new boots from an Italian faggot designer are NOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Coffee and beer are acceptable answers. Always. No exceptions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Coffee and beer are also acceptable payment options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I will &lt;u&gt;not&lt;/u&gt; go shopping with you like herded consumptive animals. No, I don't care if you have fashion advices for me, I can get clothes for myself ALONE, thank you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. The next time you wear super high-ridiculously-pointy heels that click-clack with every step and cause you to whine over how painful it is to walk, I will take one and stick it in your ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. When asking for my advice on touchy topics (ie. the sluttiness of your profile picture on Facebook), you have to be prepared for long uncomfortable silences from my part wherein I'm either contemplating how incredibly superfluous and stupid you are or what I'm going to have for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;14. Pointing out my mundane or sporty fashion sense will only get you a one-way ticket to the dark caverns of STFU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;15. Don't give me a speech about acceptable social patterns and early morning hours. I'm quite oblivious to them and I actually question their very own existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;16. When introduced to you, I will have the blatant, unfair prejudice (redundant much?)&lt;br /&gt;of thinking you are dumb. You, then, would have to prove me wrong. Our possible, albeit not guaranteed, friendship would depend on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;17. I also reserve the right to terminate our girly-friendship at any time solely based on how monstrous your grammar/spelling is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. You are allowed to be as apathetic and cynic as I am. You can ignore it or laugh or even compete with me. You are not, however, allowed to question such moods and suggest emotional therapies that would turn me into a more understanding, tolerable and overall-better human being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Disclaimer: &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;While I understand that generalizing is &lt;i&gt;commonly &lt;/i&gt;wrong and I have no official stand point in categorizing EVERY women I've met to any of the points above, I can allege, in my defense, that I haven't actually been proven otherwise... thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;I hereby rest my case on why I don't have any female friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-5757594408793902170?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/5757594408793902170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/08/women-me-official-multi-titled-post.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5757594408793902170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5757594408793902170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/08/women-me-official-multi-titled-post.html' title='Women + Me: The Official Multi-titled Post'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SomdfoMxYJI/AAAAAAAAAMU/evLQ64U0Bx8/s72-c/motivator_cunt_punt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-1786195876854203498</id><published>2009-07-15T16:15:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T23:00:40.256-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am a Geek'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Delirios Chafones'/><title type='text'>Analogy</title><content type='html'>Just to prevent this blog from suffering a most premature and painful death, I will try to update often with musings derived from the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must be gleaming with excitement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I am too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this last year in an attempt to be uberly metaphorical. I failed n00bishly but I still like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Analogy on human relationships using the Large Hadron Collider as an example:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We accelerate our own lives: they spin, distant themselves a hundred miles away then coincidentally meet for a split second. For a moment we not alone - we feel lucidity and excitement; experiencing something short but meaningful and then again, we are off on our own: victims of distance.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We patiently roam waiting for a manifestation of the mathematical coincidence we are slaves of. Same cycle repeated a million times.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sometimes we meet close enough and we acknowledge each other, we sense our presence and want to reach out for more; some other times we pretend we don't exist: it hurts less. We travel in opposite directions, we are different in many ways and yet deep inside we know there will be a time when we will both collide to create the biggest of impacts and when that happens, it will be a decisive moment, we will either: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;1) Find out what we were truly made of, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;2) Disintegrate into the smallest of pieces after a tremendous burst of emotions where no trace will be left behind or, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;3) Form new matter and begin a new journey as one. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This will be the best way to explore the inner workings of our souls and learn about the fundamental nature of the heart. The risk of emotions going out of control is latent but worth risking, once it has happened, the fear will begin to subside. Although nothing is guaranteed at this point.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;tl;dr&lt;/b&gt; science = &lt;img src="http://e.deviantart.com/emoticons/h/heart.gif" alt=":heart:" title="Heart" width="15" height="13" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-1786195876854203498?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/1786195876854203498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/07/analogy.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/1786195876854203498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/1786195876854203498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/07/analogy.html' title='Analogy'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-5469702916728790570</id><published>2009-06-29T14:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T14:46:26.590-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Delirios Chafones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Soy Emo'/><title type='text'>En vez de...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;En vez de tomar la botella y ahogarme en una sentimentalidad inútil;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vez de aventurarme en una travesía sin horizonte mientras corro y tropiezo en la lluvia con ráfagas de aire gélido;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vez de esconderme en una esquina e ingerir copiosas cantidades de azúcar para rápido llegar a ese estado de euforia falsa;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vez de inhalar agentes tóxicos que prometen una sensación de relajación temporal;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vez de escribir paginas y paginas derramando todo el odio, el rencor, la depresión y la impotencia;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vez de refugiarme en los libros para encontrar la simpatía y el surrealismo que me hace eludir la cotidianidad asfixiante;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vez de dormir y apagar el mundo de una forma semi-inconsciente;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vez de analizar a gente extraña en la calle, imaginando cuan miserables son sus vidas y sintiéndome mejor por mi injustificado schadenfreudismo;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vez de todas las opciones elusivas de realidad... camino frente a los aparadores de tiendas de fotografía, sintiendo la lujuria y el impulso de comprar un mejor equipo para después salir y fotografiar un mundo que no comprendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero nunca compro nada. No tengo dinero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;** El "En vez de" también puede interpretarse como un "Casi siempre".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-5469702916728790570?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/5469702916728790570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/06/en-vez-de.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5469702916728790570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5469702916728790570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/06/en-vez-de.html' title='En vez de...'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-6911348799792546738</id><published>2009-05-27T14:49:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T15:22:43.985-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaintopia'/><title type='text'>Yet another irrational complaint.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I fell asleep on the train today (like I do on any other weekday when I'm forced to join the commute at ungodly morning hours) I woke up only to find out that the guy sitting in front of me had his iPhone camera pointed at my face. I told him, in between mutters and groans, that I was going to charge him for doing that; he giggled nervously and got off in the next stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure there's (or will be) a picture in the intrawebs of me sleeping. If anybody sees it, kindly forward it to me. A stranger owes me a loonie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"  &gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;According to the Canadian Institute of  Fake Statistics, 86% of people riding public transports are being unwillingly photographed in low resolution, crappy quality images &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;by camwhores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time somebody dares to engage in such voyeuristic behaviours, I would gladly pose for you with my best of faces:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sh2oAoOk_OI/AAAAAAAAALc/0bhnDQRF7-E/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sh2oAoOk_OI/AAAAAAAAALc/0bhnDQRF7-E/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340609461883305186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jolly, jolly ho!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And before somebody bashes my hypocritical position arguing that I'm just as guilty of doing the same for being a photographer, I will just say, in my defense, that I would never ever take your photo with a crappy camera phone. EVER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest assured your candid, stealth photo will be of higher quality with subtle artistic enhancements. You won't believe it's you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-6911348799792546738?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/6911348799792546738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/05/yet-another-irrational-complain.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6911348799792546738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6911348799792546738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/05/yet-another-irrational-complain.html' title='Yet another irrational complaint.'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sh2oAoOk_OI/AAAAAAAAALc/0bhnDQRF7-E/s72-c/2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-2182541511981180550</id><published>2009-05-01T13:41:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T14:50:43.407-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Delirios Chafones'/><title type='text'>Tan Lejos del Distrito Federal y Tan Cerca de Twitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Advertencia:&lt;/span&gt; contiene azotes, exageraciones, sarcasmo implícito y también verdades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abril 16 - 24, 2009: La semana que asaltaron mis emociones, luego las secuestraron, hicieron pedacitos, machacaron, re-mezclaron y nadie pago el rescate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El jueves pasado recibía una llamada de mi querida progenitora diciéndome que iban a cancelar clases en México de un dia para otro por el extraño brote de un virus del que ningún ciudadano normal había escuchado. Unos minutos después la noticia ya se había difundido en todo el &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Twittuniverso &lt;/span&gt;y yo la seguía con morbosa curiosidad desde lejos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los siguientes son pensamientos que tuve durante toda la semana. La evolución, bi-polaridad e inconsistencia los hacen auténticos y validos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La sorpresa inaudita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¡No mames, dicen que hay un virus mata-chilangos y que ya se murieron un chingo! ¿Como? ¿Que fue lo que paso? Toño, desde Brownsville y yo, desde Calgary (chilangos expatriados) compartíamos las ultimas noticias:&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; 'no mames, mi mama trabaja en una clínica en México'&lt;/span&gt; y &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'no mames, les dijeron que no salieran'&lt;/span&gt; y nos preocupábamos sin saber ni que chingados estaba pasando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;La expectativa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que van a cancelar clases, ¿Y ora? ¿Hasta cuándo? ¿Tan grave será? ¿Qué nos va a pasar? (o mas bien que les va a pasar a los pobres chilangos apretujados)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;El miedo latente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dicen que el virus es agresivo, dicen que es muy contagioso, dicen que no hay cura, que es una cepa nueva, que el mundo se va a acabar... &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;si un dia me has de querer, te debes apresurar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La paranoia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapabocas-madness (o bueno eso dicen, yo acá nomás me entero de lejitos) Mi mamá quiere usar tapabocas hasta para bañarse. Un poco exagerado pero ¿Y qué tal que si-cierto? Dicen que hay mas muertos y mas contagiados. Dicen que ya se expandió a otros estados de la República. ¿Y si-si-cierto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La burla de la misma (negación)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mientras decido si me paniqueo, si me encierro, si me voy a México antes de que cierren vuelos y fronteras, si hablo con todos mis familiares para despedirme de una vez (no vaya a ser que nunca los vuelva a ver) aprovechamos para hacer lo que los Mexicanos sabemos hacer mejor: Burlarnos. Y Twitter fue un excelente medio para eso:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extracto de mis favoritos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/sirako" class="screen-name" title="sirako"&gt;sirako&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt; &lt;&lt;¿qué le dijo el DF a la Influenza Puerca? "mira cómo tiemblo"&gt;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/MareoFlores" class="screen-name" title="Mario Flores"&gt;MareoFlores &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;Te quiero mucho. Te lo digo ahorita porcino te vuelvo a ver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/sopitas" class="screen-name" title="Sopitas"&gt;sopitas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt; Pandemia no es de pandas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/sopitas" class="screen-name" title="Sopitas"&gt;sopitas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt; Me gustaeia saber cuanto tiempo transcurrira antes de que veamos el primer bancazo perpetrado por 'la banda de los tapabocas' jaja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/control_zape" class="screen-name" title="controlzape"&gt;control_zape&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt; En la cumbia de la influenza &lt;a href="http://jordi.net/la_cumbia_de_la_influenza.mp3" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;http://jordi.net/la_cumbia_...&lt;/a&gt; yo digo que la parte de Indiana Jones es la que rulea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/tonytacacci" class="screen-name" title="Tony Tacacci"&gt;tonytacacci&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt; "me enfermaron como puerco" jaja #influenza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/Beam" class="screen-name" title="Beam"&gt;Beam&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt; Uno creería que la plaga del fin del mundo tendría un mejor nombre que "gripe porcina". Mínimo "Andromeda Strain" o "Captain Trips".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/control_zape" class="screen-name" title="controlzape"&gt;control_zape&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt; Escribiendo en 1 cubrebocas: "Esto que traigo puesto en la jeta no sirve más que para sentirme como el llanero solitario".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/Enist" class="screen-name" title="Enist"&gt;Enist&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;los chilangos somos trend-setters: La #influenza es lo más in de la temporada SS/09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/sopitas" class="screen-name" title="Sopitas"&gt;sopitas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt; No es contradictorio que nos digan que evitemos las aglomeraciones, y al mismo tiempo que vayamos al hospital? es lo mas aperrado que hay!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/laustic"&gt;laustic&lt;/a&gt; "acabo de ver una #influenza volando" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;El miedo explicito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya se que estoy lejos del foco de infección pero una señora viene tosiendo al lado de mi y yo como que le quiero dar sendos zapes porque &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no vaya a ser&lt;/span&gt; que sea de esas que se van a vacacionar a las playas de Cancun y que allá un Mexicano infectado que vende conchitas le haya estornudado en su caucásica carota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La hipocondría&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinche señora, para mi que me contagió, siento que desfallezco: me arden los ojos, siento pelitos en la garganta y como dolor en las piernas. No ya, sniff. Estoy segura que voy a ser la primera infectada en Calgary y seguro me van a echar la culpa por ser Mexicana. A lo mejor hasta dicen que ya lo traía, que era portadora de un virus en incubación. Sí, seguro eso van a decir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;El sentimiento del Fin del Mundo inminente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y siguen aumentando los niveles de la OMS: en tres días aumento tres escalas. Es el fin, ¡el fin! y todo sera lento y doloroso. Y yo hasta acá, tan lejos. ¿Estaré segura por un tiempo? El mapa de Google dice que ya hay contagiados en todo el mundo. Y si es Google, es confiable. ¿A dónde me iré a refugiar si nunca puedo volver a México? Siempre quise morir en mi patria como niño héroe. Pero no quiero morir, no todavía.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La impotencia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quisiera traerme a toda mi familia para acá. ¡Que huyan! ¡Que se salven! ¿Y con qué lana me los traigo? No, olvídalo, las aerolíneas Canadienses ya cancelaron vuelos a México.  ¿Y si mi hermano esta infectado porque es un puberto que se cree inmortal y nunca uso tapabocas? A fin de cuentas, el y sus amigos le toman de la misma botella de Coca-Cola y saluda de beso a todas sus amigas güilitas y por extensión, las güilas tienen influenza. Mejor que el se quede allá, que se enferme por imprudente y temerario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La resignación&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada se puede hacer. Yo no puedo hacer nada por ellos, ni ellos por mi. Si nos enfermamos, mejor que seamos todos parejos y así eliminamos el sentimiento de Schadenfreudismo colectivo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;El nihilismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De todas formas, ¿A qué venimos a este mundo? ¿A morir, no? Nuestras vidas serán borradas de la faz de la tierra, no dejaremos rastro porque somos efímeros: lo somos, lo fuimos y lo seremos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La burla de los anteriores fenómenos apocalípticos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y como el mundo se va a acabar, la vida no vale nada, la muerte es natural y no tengo nada que hacer mas que esperar el fin, hay que burlarse, ¡Como no!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;El Karma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo esto de pandemia ha de ser porque algo malo hicimos. Bien lo dijeron en el &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tuiter&lt;/span&gt;: por algo tembló en el D.F. ¿Coincidencia? No lo creo. Hemos sido malos humanos, es la forma de la tierra de defenderse. Es, a lo mejor, hasta un ciclo - eso dice Google, y Google es ley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La duda y extrañeza, el vislumbre de escepticismo y la desconfianza de los medios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dentro de toda la paranoia y pánico, están los izquierdistas, escépticos, conspiratorios extremos que dicen que todo es un Complot del gobierno y que la culpa la tiene Obama y que 'Que coincidencia que se murió el director del Museo de Antropología de pneumonia' y que 'Que coincidencia que los laboratorios Norteamericanos dicen que pueden ganarle a los laboratorios Parisienses en la carrera para encontrar la cura de una enfermedad que dicen que no existe y que mas bien llego del cielo y que no es de puercos, que los tapabocas son inútiles y mas bien es una manipulación para controlar a las masas mientras el dueño de la empresa de Tapaboqueria se hace asquerosamente rico vendiéndolos a 7 pesos c/u y que los números de infectados no checan y ¿Dónde están los muertos? y ¿Porqué solo se mueren en México de a madre? y ¿Porqué en otras partes del mundo no? y... y... ¡¡Ahh!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La evidencia física de una pandemia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y después de leerme milochomil artículos desde El Universal a La Jornada pasando por la revista Proceso, New Scientist y la pagina del CDC, WHO, Journals y Blogs de opinión personal, platicas con mi mama y hartos, hartisimos &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tweets&lt;/span&gt;, yo estaba convencida de que todo era mentira. Hasta que llegue a trabajo; a mi sobrio y neutral edificio, y vi dispensadores automáticos de desinfectante para manos en cada esquina. Y llegue a mi oficina y el primer correo que abrí era un Memorandum del Vice-Presidente diciendo que la "Mexican flu" como pandemia era inminente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La hipocondría (otra vez)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....tanto así, que regreso mi ardor de ojos, mi dolor de garganta, tos rasposa y estornudos esporádicos que tienen a mi coguorker al borde del pánico y de salir corriendo o aventarse por la ventana para salvar su vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;El escepticismo mezclado con vale-madrismo, el vale-madrismo hecho indiferencia y la indiferencia derivada en ignorancia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De este no hay mucho que decir - confusión total. ¿Es verdad? ¿Es conspiración? ¿La culpa la tiene Estados Unidos? ¿La culpa la tiene México y quieren cubrir evidencia o corregir su incompetencia? ¿Es el fin? ¿Es el principio? ¿Es una fase? ¿Es natural? ¿Al rato se nos va a olvidar? No se, no se y tal vez ya no me importe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;El dolor de cabeza y el odio a Internet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En esta fase estoy ahora, donde ya me tiene todo hasta la madre y no me quedo mas que escribirlo y archivarlo como otro post mas. Uno que a lo mejor leeré en un futuro y diré &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'no mames, que pinche azotados andábamos todos'&lt;/span&gt; o eso espero.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-2182541511981180550?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/2182541511981180550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/05/tan-lejos-del-distrito-federal-y-tan.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/2182541511981180550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/2182541511981180550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/05/tan-lejos-del-distrito-federal-y-tan.html' title='Tan Lejos del Distrito Federal y Tan Cerca de Twitter'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-6747528500572832318</id><published>2009-02-18T21:59:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T22:19:41.303-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='El ingenio y la ociosidad'/><title type='text'>Letreros Efectivos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzqxAeGo9I/AAAAAAAAAJs/qNxCJRCRHYQ/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 119px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzqxAeGo9I/AAAAAAAAAJs/qNxCJRCRHYQ/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304372588796355538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzqxAeGo9I/AAAAAAAAAJs/qNxCJRCRHYQ/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 119px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzqxAeGo9I/AAAAAAAAAJs/qNxCJRCRHYQ/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304372588796355538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzqxAeGo9I/AAAAAAAAAJs/qNxCJRCRHYQ/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 119px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzqxAeGo9I/AAAAAAAAAJs/qNxCJRCRHYQ/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304372588796355538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzp9klYAvI/AAAAAAAAAJk/P-jjTIy6vCM/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En los vestidores de mujeres del gimnasio, pusieron un letrero a la entrada:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;ATTENT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;ION:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Be aware, there are men working on washroom renovation. Do not cross tape.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sorry for the inconvenience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo digo que mejor debería decir esto:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;ATTENTION:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here be evil perverted men working on washroom renovation. Do not cross tape.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The tape is very secure, it keeps them off limits and casts an invisible, impenetrable protective area that detects testosterone and horniness, and prevents them from crossing over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don't worry, young woman -  they won't turn their heads to see you walking naked to the showers either. They're busy... working... hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*wink wink*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sorry for the inconvenience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunque después de ver a una Chinita desnuda secando sus calzones (no me pregunten porque estaban mojados, no supe tanto) con la secadora de pelo en pleno centro del vestidor, pienso que esto estaría mejor:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;ATTENTION:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hey lady, we know you're lonely and over 40 - we know you come to the gym just to look at Bob, the trainer, but listen, we have construction workers in the area and we don't want you to disrupt them with your subtle Missus flirting - we're paying them by the hour. Chances are, they probably won't pay any attention to you anyway or who knows? they might but just for gags. YES, we know they're working on 'female grounds' but it's temporary, so don't get your hopes too high. And yeah, sorry for the inconvenience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(Actually, you should be sorry!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzqxOPVloI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/MvezgwmwhAU/s1600-h/police_line_do_not_cross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 216px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzqxOPVloI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/MvezgwmwhAU/s400/police_line_do_not_cross.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304372592492516994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo digo que me deberían de contratar para escribirles letreritos ad hoc, vaciladores y versátiles. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-6747528500572832318?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/6747528500572832318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/02/letreros-efectivos.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6747528500572832318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6747528500572832318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/02/letreros-efectivos.html' title='Letreros Efectivos'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SZzqxAeGo9I/AAAAAAAAAJs/qNxCJRCRHYQ/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-3405199611582984802</id><published>2009-02-04T14:06:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T00:59:32.142-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am a Geek'/><title type='text'>I am a Geek</title><content type='html'>I recently bumped into this list of geeky things and I decided sharing was mandatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I could've just linked you to it, but I wanted to highlight the ones that apply to me w/ my comments in blue (You can copy/paste this on your blog and do this too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Geek Social Aptitude Test&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;1. I own and wear t-shirts featuring the logos of computer/operating system manufacturers/ websites&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(deviantART ftw!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I am over the age of 22 and live with my parents.&lt;br /&gt;3. I am, according to the medical definition, obese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;4. On an average day more of my human interaction happens on message boards or in blog comments than with actual other people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I have ended real friendships over arguments about computer or product choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;6. I very seriously and passionately try to talk people into buying or switching to my OS/phone/product of choice.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(more like Cameras and mp3 players)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;7. I commonly use very specific technical jargon without considering whether or not the person I'm talking to understands it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I hold an engineering or IT degree.&lt;br /&gt;9. I have made a member of the opposite sex sit and watch me play video games for an hour or more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;10. I play with my phone at restaurants.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(and camera... and iPod)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;11. Almost all of my jokes are actually just catchphrases or references to popular comedic film or show.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(read: Top Gear, House, The Big Bang Theory and the like)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I have a medical problem that makes me sweat a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;13. I live or have lived for an extended period completely nocturnally, sitting at my computer all night and sleeping all day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;14. I generally do not leave my home if it's not necessary for work or food retrieval.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I have over 50,000 Xbox 360 Gamerpoints.&lt;br /&gt;16. I work in electronics retail.&lt;br /&gt;17. I generally am only friends with other Apple people/Windows people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;18. My sense of humor is more in line with 4chan than any other comedic source.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. I hang out exclusively with members of the same sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;20. I own and wear a&lt;/span&gt; &lt;u style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;cowboy hat&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;, Kangol hat, fedora and/or bowler.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. I am the dominant talker in most conversations I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;22. I think the Star Wars trilogy/Star Trek series is the greatest thing ever put to celluloid and will argue all night about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. When I hang out with my friends, we usually play Risk, Axis and Allies, Dungeons and Dragons and/or Settlers of Catan.&lt;br /&gt;24. I have a level 80 character in World of Warcraft.&lt;br /&gt;25. I've dressed up as a video game character/manga character in public on a day other than Halloween.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;26. I say internet acronyms such as LOL and BRB out loud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(I say ZOMG a lot)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;27. I own a sword, nunchucks and/or throwing stars.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(I have a Katana. Me and my brother are disputing the ownership of said sword)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. I'm an obsessive collector.&lt;br /&gt;29. I make my own image macros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;30. I am really, really into my cat. Like, really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;31. I have corrected someone's spelling or grammar on a message board or in blog comments.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(and then killed them with fire~!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. I have authored and obsessively updated Wikipedia entries about cartoons from the 80's.&lt;br /&gt;33. I breathe through my mouth, mostly.&lt;br /&gt;34. I've read all of the greatest novels ever published, all of which happen to be graphic novels.&lt;br /&gt;35. I suffer from halitosis and/or a laziness-based aversion to dental hygiene.&lt;br /&gt;36. I vote for politicians based on their stance on net neutrality.&lt;br /&gt;37. My dream girl/boy has eyes the size of dinner plates, is part robot or, optimally, both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;38. I am a member of a private, invite-only BitTorrent tracker with extremely strict ratio/bitrate requirements.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(lol @ Torrentbytes and its impossible registration)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;39. I regularly ingest caffeine through unconventional means.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(haven't tried ingesting it thru an IV, tho)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;40. I'm convinced that I would be happier if I worked on the Starship Enterprise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;41. I do things for the "lulz."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. I always have the last word in online arguments. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;43. I wear sweatpants more than any other type of pants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. I am a guy and I have a ponytail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;45. I believe that it's the rest of the world that's awkward and I actually have everything pretty much figured out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;46. I have a hard drive exclusively dedicated to porn/movies/shows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;47. I write letters to companies and consumer interest blogs whenever I feel that I've been wronged.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(and they've never replied back)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. I'm married in Second Life but single in real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;49. I read Gizmodo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(and FARK)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"&gt;more than the New York Times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;(who the fuck reads the New York Time these days anyway??)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. I am offended by this test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[via &lt;a href="http://i.gizmodo.com/5142331/gsat-the-geek-social-aptitude-test"&gt;Gizmodo&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-3405199611582984802?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/3405199611582984802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-am-geek.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/3405199611582984802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/3405199611582984802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-am-geek.html' title='I am a Geek'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-8216972387166258654</id><published>2009-01-29T20:41:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T20:55:22.177-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaintopia'/><title type='text'>Que no puedo que?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Fumar afuera de una escuela: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;permitido. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fumar en un parque &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;al aire libre&lt;/span&gt; lleno de vagabundos: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;prohibido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SYJ3gLAEm7I/AAAAAAAAAIM/k8Ntb_KutBY/s1600-h/IMG_8785.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 336px; height: 336px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SYJ3gLAEm7I/AAAAAAAAAIM/k8Ntb_KutBY/s400/IMG_8785.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296927506333735858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Esta foto no tiene nada que ver conmigo o Canadá. Se la saque a un fulanito del IPN en México y me gustó&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es cierto que uno como buen ciudadano hipócrita se tiene que aguantar a seguir ciertos lineamientos moralistas y leyes incongruentes sin cuestionar el origen o causa pero cuando hay una ironía y conflicto de ideas de este tamaño, no me queda mas que reír y decir 'no mamen'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los que saben (y los que no) que Calgary tiene un rango de temperaturas de un espectro increíblemente grande, saben que un día podemos amanecer a -20°C y al día siguiente a +15°C. O peor aun, que ese cambio pase en el mismo día.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando sabemos que se avecina un clima medianamente agradable, hacemos planes para estar afuera disfrutando el dia. Mis planes por lo regular, se remiten a caminar o aplastarme en alguna banca de un parque a leer / tomar café o simplemente ver gente caminando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta vez me puse mas &lt;strike&gt;ambiciosa&lt;/strike&gt; viciosa y me dije 'mañana por fin voy a poder fumar agusto'. El primer lugar en el pensé fue Olimpic Plaza: un parquecito tranquilo, sin mucha gente y rodeado de pinos (todo aqui esta rodeado de pinos). El único inconveniente, para algunos, es que ese parque es el punto de reunión de algunos homeless, vagos y demás pero la mayoría de las veces nos ignoramos mutuamente y no pasa del famoso 'no te molesto, no me molestas'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cual fue mi sorpresa que justo cuando iba sacando mi encendedor, escuche el siempre temido &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Excuse me, miss?'&lt;/span&gt;. Voltee y vi dos roperos vestidos de azul con gorrito:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- 'You can't smoke here'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como chingados no? estoy al aire libre!  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- 'Oh? but it's a park'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- 'Yes we know BUT you can't smoke here'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Señale a los homeless sentados enfrente  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- '...they ARE smoking'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- 'We're keeping an eye on them. It's not permitted to smoke in the park, though. You can smoke over there'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me señalo una banca que estaba a 10 metros de mi, afuera de los limites del parque donde seguramente terminaba la burbuja invisible que protegia el aire del mismo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pense en aclarar mi punto, mi logica e incomformidad reprimida pero lo pense dos veces despues de analizar que ambos me sacaban dos metros de alto y dos de ancho. Para que andar comprando problemas innecesarios?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se me quitaron las ganas. Mañana lo haré en la entrada de un Kinder donde seguramente nadie me dirá nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y esto no acaba aquí. Me falta quejarme de la innovadora campaña para evitar el consumo de  productos de tabaco. Oh si, esperenla. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-8216972387166258654?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/8216972387166258654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/01/que-no-puedo-que.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/8216972387166258654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/8216972387166258654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/01/que-no-puedo-que.html' title='Que no puedo que?!'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/SYJ3gLAEm7I/AAAAAAAAAIM/k8Ntb_KutBY/s72-c/IMG_8785.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-363872639488708144</id><published>2009-01-14T11:16:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T11:18:58.823-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaintopia'/><title type='text'>Apodos</title><content type='html'>La Fria&lt;br /&gt;La Resbalosa&lt;br /&gt;La Durita&lt;br /&gt;La Aguada&lt;br /&gt;La Mugrosa&lt;br /&gt;La Rasposa&lt;br /&gt;La Engañosa&lt;br /&gt;La Lodosa&lt;br /&gt;La Suavecita&lt;br /&gt;La Brillosa&lt;br /&gt;La Cortante&lt;br /&gt;La Mortal&lt;br /&gt;La Divertida&lt;br /&gt;La Moldeable&lt;br /&gt;La Amasable&lt;br /&gt;La Entumecedora&lt;br /&gt;La Pinche&lt;br /&gt;La Amarilla&lt;br /&gt;La Natural*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Esa nieve, esa pinche nieve....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esa que cuando el sol le pega directo, encandila, como si de ella fuese a salir algún tipo de verdad sin precedente. Como si se fuese a manifestar un fenómeno apocalíptico. Porque tan brillante? Cual es su propósito sino insolarme? No me deja pensar con claridad, solo veo sombras fuertes que rosan mi cuerpo: pasan veloces y me dejan allí estancada en mi desesperación.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y para aquellos que digan 'pero es muy bonita y blanca' solo les digo: seis meses de eso. SEIS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Déjenme quejarme agusto!**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span&gt;*Chiste local: En el Zócalo de la peculiar Ciudad de México, la nieve que ponen para que los chamacos sientan que jugaron, sientan que se enfriaron, y sientan que patinaron (aunque hayan estado formados en la fila mas tiempo) se llama "Nieve Natural". Para que les quede claro a aquellos que decían que la nieve que uso el Gobierno de la Ciudad era sintética.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;**Ahora que si se trata de un cono de nieve con cantidades exorbitantes de chamoy, limón, chile o algún licor con altos grados alcohólicos, esa si me gusta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-363872639488708144?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/363872639488708144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/01/apodos.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/363872639488708144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/363872639488708144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2009/01/apodos.html' title='Apodos'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-3031338705062784456</id><published>2008-08-19T13:51:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T14:25:21.491-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><title type='text'>Me gusta comer con las manos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Que risa me da cuando la gente aquí se me queda viendo porque como con las manos! No todo, obviamente - no me podría comer un caldo de frijoles negros con la mano (bueno fuera que los vendieran!) Porque le tienen tanta repulsión, pues? Como mexicanos, estamos acostumbrados a comer muchas cosas con las manos: tacos, tostadas, tortas! En fin, cualquier cosa en la calle es digna de comerse en forma táctil. Aquí me ven como esa pobre niña que nunca le enseñaron modales. Como que te vas a comer un elote con las manos? No, cortale los granitos con un cuchillo. Es de mala educación agarrar los rollitos de sushi con la mano! Pos si, pero sino se me deshace todo. Hoy me sirvieron una carne asada y me dieron palillos chinos. Oh que la, pos asi como quieren?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es por eso que hoy te reto a ti, lector dubitativo a que te comas un taco con palillos chinos. Pa' que aquellos Chino-Canadienses no se ofendan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-3031338705062784456?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/3031338705062784456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/08/me-gusta-comer-con-las-manos.html#comment-form' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/3031338705062784456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/3031338705062784456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/08/me-gusta-comer-con-las-manos.html' title='Me gusta comer con las manos'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-8547289870815890719</id><published>2008-08-13T11:40:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T14:16:33.647-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaintopia'/><title type='text'>Accents</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It has been brought to my attention that I have a weird, unplaceable English accent. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Not quite Spanish, Canadian or Posh"&lt;/span&gt; as pointed out by one of my friends. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"...You sound British if you try to talk Aussie, you sound East-Canadian when you try to talk British and don't even get me started on Scottish or Irish..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovely, ain't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should give up on it and try a Chinese or East-Indian accent. It'd be a lot easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EDIT:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not quoting Mr. Fidel Castro, but I've reached a conclusion that absolves me from any possible guilt when it comes to accents. I do NOT have a weird accent. Mine is directly influenced by the person whom I'm speaking to. That said, they are the ones with the weird accents, not me. I'm just merely mirroring them and it is totally involuntary; a condition if you will. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-8547289870815890719?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/8547289870815890719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/08/accents.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/8547289870815890719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/8547289870815890719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/08/accents.html' title='Accents'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-1595671122758108210</id><published>2008-08-05T22:00:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T22:25:22.088-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><title type='text'>Back to Calgary!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;August 3rd, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything here seems alien again. I've been doing this for four years and still haven't gotten used to the cultural and environmental differences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My english is a bit rusty too, after two weeks in Mexico of speaking spanish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always have the same impression after coming back to a city I call "home".  Spaces are huge- I can't focus my eyes on anything but a hill, the prairie or sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the colourful and folkloric details in  Mexico; here is nice and clean and beautiful, but it's the same setting throughout the whole city, with some minor exceptions like the  Rockies  or  city rivers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see the horizon, I can see from left to right without anything blocking my view.  I even see the earth's curvature in the vast sky scape, the different hues on the clouds, the gradient of the sunset. It almost looks surreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no one walking on the street at this hour (10:30pm) Where's all the people who live here? It seems a dead city to me after 5pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highways are so big and cars flow evenly: no bumps, no traffic jams... just flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;August 4th, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look out the window: everything is so friggin colourful. Someone increased the contrast, saturation and brightness in this city (that's my geek speaking). The sky has never been so blue, the hills have never been greener, even the air is tasty (?) Yes, tasty... enjoyable to breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look out the window again, a flock of seagulls play in the sky. There must be hundreds of them... they look like glitter. I've never seen that many before, they must be migrating somewhere south. Does that mean winter is fastly approaching? God, they are noisy... I've never been very fond of seagulls, only from afar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People on the streets look so calm and happy. Lightness all around. They live their lives in a happy way. There aren't that many of them, though. Some kids have been playing for hours with their skate boards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did all this colour come from?! Damn, it's pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;August 5th, 2008.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to work. Ugh... The routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, I'm glad to see those guys again. They all look healthy and shiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The train on the way here was uneventful. It was pretty empty, that's what I meant. The driver talks to us before the train goes into the downtown area. Now, that's something different. He tells us the weather forecast and wishes us a good day. Hmm... funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Lunch break&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk towards Stephen Avenue: the business district so to speak. I've always liked walking here. There's so much to see around. People are nice, they're all dressed up in a nice, conservative sort of way. You see colour but not too much, just the right amount.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are flowers everywhere. I like the liveliness of this Avenue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are in good shape, generally speaking. I notice how everyone tries to be healthy and everyone wants to sit in the sun. Oh, these Canadians are funny sometimes... They all look happy and walk at an even pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://http//lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/03/shame-on-you-calgary.html"&gt;McNally Robinson &lt;/a&gt;bookstore has closed now. This saddens me deeply as it was one of my favourite places to spend the time. My hideout. That's too bad, I really liked that place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting in a sculpture, monument thing just outside McNally. I've always liked sitting here and read; it's never occupied! Maybe because there's no sun falling onto this side. They don't like to sit in the shadow. Funny Canadians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being sitting here, I notice two things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. People walk for the pleasure of walking, they don't go to places, they walk the street just because they can. I like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. People are smiling: to their peers, to themselves, to each other. They walk, talk and smile. Effects of the sun or the nice weather? Perhaps, but they look happy, that's for sure. I feel happy just by looking at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things move slowly but at an even constant pace. I can catch up :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-1595671122758108210?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/1595671122758108210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/08/back-to-calgary.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/1595671122758108210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/1595671122758108210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/08/back-to-calgary.html' title='Back to Calgary!'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-8740576489735996596</id><published>2008-06-10T13:20:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T16:12:49.297-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaintopia'/><title type='text'>Complaintopia: Los enjendros de Holt Renfrew</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bostonherald.com/blogs/entertainment/rough_edge/wp-content/uploads/2007/05/cruela.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px" height="210" alt="" src="http://www.bostonherald.com/blogs/entertainment/rough_edge/wp-content/uploads/2007/05/cruela.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hay un lugar &lt;em&gt;muy genial&lt;/em&gt; aqui en Calgary para las personas que vomitan dinero llamada &lt;a href="http://www.holtrenfrew.com/holts/pages/index.dot?language_id=1"&gt;Holt Renfrew&lt;/a&gt; - la madre nodriza de los picudos, donde se junta la crema y nata de la comunidad bisnes; un lugar donde los mortales que pasan por ahi son acediados con las miradas fulminantes de las señoras cincuentonas rellenas de botox y los chavos con trajes de diseñador que se contonean mientras hablan con su blacberri. Un lugar donde, si un guey descarado entra con pantalon de mezclilla roto, corre el riesgo de ser linchado y apaleado por atreverse a entrar a tan exclusivo recinto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque es tan genial este lugar? Porque me da material pa' criticar agusto por mucho, mucho rato. Porque el dia que mi ex-jefa (desde ahora bautizada como Mrs. German Shepherd) me llevo, me di cuenta de lo mucho que odiaba ese lugar. Ese dia me pidio que la acompañara a refrigerar su abrigo de piel de castor - yo confundida por tal enunciado, me llene de curiosidad y decidi ir con ella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me imaginaba un refrigerador como de matadero, donde las vacas estan descuartizadas y colgadas llenas de sangre; pues resulta que las unicas vacas que vi fueron las señoritas que atendian ese departamento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi jefa entro con tal comodidad y fue saludada por las empleadas que brillaban de pulcreza, como si todos los dias tuvieras que sacar/meter tu ropa al refrigerador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mientras ella daba instrucciones para que su abrigo estuviera en optimas condiciones para el proximo invierno, yo me entretenia viendo los precios exhorbitantes de los suetercitos escualidos que eran mas delgados que un kleenex. Nadie se acerco a preguntarme el clasico &lt;em&gt;"necesita ayuda?"&lt;/em&gt; pues sabian que mi macilento ser de tenis mugrosos y playera jamas podria adquirir algo de la tienda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando salimos Mrs. German Shepherd trataba de convencerme que era una buena idea comprar ropa de buena &lt;em&gt;calidá&lt;/em&gt; porque duraba mas que la ropa chafita de los Gualmarts, entonces, siguiendo esa logica, era la mejor inversion que yo podria hacer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me quede pensando en lo que me decia y llegue a la siguiente conclusion: El hecho de que tenga o no tenga dinero, no me va a hacer un enjendro holt-renfrewesco. Ella consume porque se ve presionada a seguir los patrones de los mamones ejecutivos que trabajan con ella. Si a mi me presionan, los mando directito a la chingada &lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;☺&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-8740576489735996596?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/8740576489735996596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/06/complaintopia-los-enjendros-de-holt.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/8740576489735996596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/8740576489735996596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/06/complaintopia-los-enjendros-de-holt.html' title='Complaintopia: Los enjendros de Holt Renfrew'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-3795727904177469216</id><published>2008-06-05T10:55:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T14:50:59.160-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaintopia'/><title type='text'>Complaintopia: El Lonche Maldito</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me vale madre si mis posts no son profundos, filosoficos e introspectivos, si carecen de continuidad y frecuencia, si prometo que voy a escribir de algo y a la mera hora no escribo. Fuck that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tengo un lonche con los coguorkers y el jefazo en 20 minutos - vamos a ir a un restaurante bien pipiris nais porque ellos creen que tienen el estatus necesario para entrar a lugares asi de pretenciosos. Mientras tanto yo soy re buena pa pretender estar emocionada en ir, cuando en realidad se me antojan mas comer en los puestos de jochos en las esquinas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No es la primera vez que pasa, por lo regular termino con una jeta de 'ya-me-quiero-ir' pero bien que trago - al fin que la empresa paga, ja! No por ser aprovechada, ni mucho menos... pero digo, ya que estan ofreciendo pos como negarse, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tenemos un dilema aqui entre los compas - se 'supone' que el Jefazo es el que debe de pagar, y a su vez, su Gran Jefazo le firma su factura pa' que la empresa pague. Pos resulta que mi Jefazo es un cobarde y tiene miedo de que le vaya a salir muy caro y lo vayan a regañar por andar gastando cantidades extrovertidas en un lunch poquitero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nosotros como buenos y compasionados coguorkers, entendemos la situacion y hemos decidido pedir los platillos mas caros namas porque somos bien chingaqueditos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;En que nos hemos convertido?! Han creado unos monstruos del mundo corporativo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ya me voy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-----&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya regrese.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buenooooo... por donde empiezo a quejarme. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;El lugar:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tal como me lo imaginaba; de esos lugares donde el menu esta en palabras rebuscadas francesas-italianas pa' que te apantalles y digas 'ay wey toy pidiendo algo bien extravanagante y exotico' aunque la traduccion directa sea Hamburguesa de Res.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que pedi:&lt;/strong&gt; Agua simple para empezar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que me trajeron:&lt;/strong&gt; St. Pellegrinos... el agua mas aca de las mas acas. Que sabe igual que un agua mineral marca-propia de la Comermex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Del Menu:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que pedi:&lt;/strong&gt; Lo que parecia ser una hamburguesa de salmon con papas a la frenchy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que me trajeron:&lt;/strong&gt; Un molido de carne rosa (supongo que era el salmon) con un extraño menjurge encima, en un pan bimbo blanco (?) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A que sabia:&lt;/strong&gt; A todo menos a salmon o hamburguesa o... comida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Postre:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que pedi:&lt;/strong&gt; Le lemoné glazé avec heladé de lavandé (o algo asi) y un café.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que me trajeron:&lt;/strong&gt; Una especie de tarta amarilla de limon con un helado azul en un platotote gigante que parecia un ovni volteado. El cafe - mismisisimo del estarbocs de la esquina pero mas carote y mas chiquito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De que hablaron mis &lt;em&gt;nuevos&lt;/em&gt; coguorkers y el Jefazo:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(creo que este mereceria un post completo)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hablaron de puros temas casuales e &lt;em&gt;interesantisimos&lt;/em&gt; de bisnes que incluyen: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* A que pais europeo fueron de vacaciones y a que pais europeo quisieran viajar el proximo año;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* Las casas de dos millones y cuatro millones de dolares a las que van a vacacionar en Tuscany, Italia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* Cual es su deporte favorito en verano, como golf, tennis, polo y cualquiera donde tengan la excusa de usar sus playeras sport de Nacoste; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* Que tipo de carro manejan y cual va a ser su proxima adquisicion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De que hable yo:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(con mis coguorkers buena onda)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Si no mal recuerdo, dije las siguientes frases durante las dos horas de agonia:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* Pasame el limon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* La mesera sonrie mucho - te apuesto a que ya se le trabo la mandibula de tanto sonreir falsamente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* Pasame otro limon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* WTF helado azul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* Pasame el ultimo limon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* Pretendamos que el agua es tequila - hasta el fondo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Y ya. Lindo dia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-3795727904177469216?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/3795727904177469216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/06/complaintopia-el-lonche-maldito.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/3795727904177469216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/3795727904177469216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/06/complaintopia-el-lonche-maldito.html' title='Complaintopia: El Lonche Maldito'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-5400083920675382997</id><published>2008-04-30T11:54:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T12:12:14.956-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><title type='text'>GIVE ME BACK MY INTRAWEBZ!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2007/06/donut-worry-we-iz-profesion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2007/06/donut-worry-we-iz-profesion.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ugh, que me da? Que me da?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos quitaron el internet de la oficina por un rato. Siento ansiedad... mucha ansiedad. Oh si, se supone que deberia estar trabajando pero no tenia nada pendiente por el momento asi que estaba muy feliz wevoneando en &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;deviantART&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primero mandaron un mail “&lt;em&gt;We are currently experiencing an issue connecting to the internet from the Calgary head office. Our Internet service provider has confirmed the issue is on their end and is working as rapidly as possible to resolve the problem.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Y me dije &lt;em&gt;“ta bien, no pasa nada, que no cunda el panico, seguro en unos 10 minutos regresa”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 minutos…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 minutos…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45 minutos…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 horas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAAAAAA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que triste es mi realidad. He pasado mas tiempo sin entrar a internet, pero se que ahi esta cuando lo requiera. Sin embargo, en momentos como este cuando esta ausente, cuando no regresa, cuando ya paso tanto tiempo… empieza la desesperancia. Es peor que cuando las mamas se preocupan porque los hijos no regresan a la casa (si, exageré y que? Asi lo siento)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por lo menos me dio tiempo &lt;s&gt;de matar tiempo&lt;/s&gt; de escribir algo para rellenar el blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me pongo a pensar… que pasaria si todos los dias nos quitaran internet por unas 3 horas? La productividad incrementaria? La creatividad? Los suicidios? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Y yo… tomaria mas café? Haria mas ejercicio? Conoceria mejor a mis coguorkers? Seria mejor en mi trabajo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh! Que dilema… parece que mi calidad de vida mejoraria si el…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohhh, ya regreso!! Por fin!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fin del post. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-5400083920675382997?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/5400083920675382997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/04/give-me-back-my-intrawebs.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5400083920675382997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5400083920675382997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/04/give-me-back-my-intrawebs.html' title='GIVE ME BACK MY INTRAWEBZ!!'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-5207337250245943688</id><published>2008-03-16T00:17:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T20:29:22.574-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Shame on you Calgary...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://midpoint.babylondesign.ca/images/mcnally.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 200px;" alt="" src="http://midpoint.babylondesign.ca/images/mcnally.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just found out a couple days ago that a famous bookstore in downtown Calgary will be closing: &lt;a href="http://www.mcnallyrobinson.com/home"&gt;The McNally Robinson&lt;/a&gt; bookstore. A vintage jewel in the core, a place to escape the cold corporate world on lunch hours and evenings. &lt;em&gt;My&lt;/em&gt; hidden place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pissed off for several reasons: First and foremost, closing a bookstore is just wrong in so many levels - the benefit you get of having a bookstore close to work makes working in downtown a more enjoyable experience. Second, the building is part of the architectural heritage of Stephen Ave. The bookstore itself brought life to the avenue, it was essential, now it will probably become another one of those unfortunate places called Starbucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why? Why closing such a magnificent, cultured place in downtown??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High costs of real estate in the downtown core, as well as high labour expenses in Alberta's boom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But... It had a restaurant, and it was always busy during peak hours!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently it wasn't enough to keep up with high rental costs. The store and its restaurant did well during weekday lunch hours, but business was comparatively quiet the rest of the week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So, who is to blame? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If&lt;/em&gt; Calgary's downtown didn't die after 6pm on weekdays, and &lt;em&gt;if&lt;/em&gt; rental costs weren't so high because of this so called "boom economy", The McNally Robinson bookstore could survive another 10 years. Unfortunately, it's not the case :( &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-5207337250245943688?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/5207337250245943688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/03/shame-on-you-calgary.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5207337250245943688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5207337250245943688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/03/shame-on-you-calgary.html' title='Shame on you Calgary...'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-5601842951423834890</id><published>2008-03-13T14:22:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T00:14:18.729-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Antojos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Bahh! Despues del emo-episodio de ayer donde mente varias madres, me puse a pensar cosas, tratando de resolver broncas y recorde esa frase de Philip K. Dick “Don't try to solve serious matters in the middle of the night” …ah! que sabio es el cuate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAN sabio es, que no me preocupe, me quede bien jetona y llegue tarde a la chamba, jijiji.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero eso fue namas pa rellenar el principio del blog – realmente lo que queria poner son las cosas que me gustaria comer en este preciso momento:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://tn3-2.deviantart.com/fs16/300W/i/2007/217/a/a/Mexican_food_by_Jay_Pi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 200px;" alt="" src="http://tn3-2.deviantart.com/fs16/300W/i/2007/217/a/a/Mexican_food_by_Jay_Pi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Unos frijoles charros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birria de Hidroranch&lt;br /&gt;(jiji hidroranch)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tacos del chupacabras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mole negro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enchiladas adobadas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chilaquiles verdes con pollo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barbacoa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Jeje, yay por mi post no-filosofico-profundo-introspectivo &lt;img src="http://e.deviantart.com/emoticons/l/lol.gif" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Imagen de tacos por &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://jay-pi.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;http://jay-pi.deviantart.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-5601842951423834890?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/5601842951423834890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/03/antojos.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5601842951423834890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5601842951423834890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/03/antojos.html' title='Antojos'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-6589056602208378877</id><published>2008-03-11T14:34:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T06:44:10.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinook</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Unconsciously, you want them to lay you off. That way, you wouldn’t have anything holding you from doing other stuff. What stuff? Oh man, lots of ambiguous things come to mind…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You’re tired if this predictive life – It was too soon to take on a routine job that required no creative effort whatsoever. You’re fucking 22 years old and you need MOAR action, recklessness. Yet, you feel like such a teenager not knowing what to do with your life. You have all these wild dreams about moving to a different country, start from scratch, meet new people… Funny thing when you have ALREADY done all these things when you came to Canada, Fabiola. You should be satisfied with what you have but you’re not. Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- I dunno, maybe it’s the Chinook messing up with my head again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176587245306132418" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/R9burEFKN8I/AAAAAAAAAEk/qKsSOqFIz9c/s200/800px-Chinook-arch-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explained in my own words, a Chinook is a big load of hot wind coming from the pacific, somehow goes through the mountains, kind of climbs them and then it slides downward to the prairies – this wind looses most of its moisture and then it mixes with the friggin dry miserable air on the prairies and it becomes warmer somehow – then because it’s all warm and stuff, it elevates this miserable blanket of cold, gray dull clouds covering the city and it forms an arch in the sky which looks really cool sometimes but the gust winds are a bitch. Oh yeah, it’s also supposed to melt ALL the snow on the ground because it’s like… hot air, but it really doesn’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, most people, like me, suffer this weird pressure/headache caused by the differences in climate pressure and the fast change in rising temperature. Irritation may also occur seeing as you have to wear a very heavy jacket and then take it off in the middle of the day because it’s too damn hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-6589056602208378877?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/6589056602208378877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/03/chinook.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6589056602208378877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6589056602208378877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/03/chinook.html' title='Chinook'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/R9burEFKN8I/AAAAAAAAAEk/qKsSOqFIz9c/s72-c/800px-Chinook-arch-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-5211388204648090345</id><published>2008-03-07T21:46:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T21:55:02.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unfinished Posts - Part I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I decided it was better to submit something unfinished, that nothing at all. Be ready for massive amounts of rant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Unfinished Post #1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;There are some things that really irritate me and I consider them to be rather wrong. I’m not conservative, but there are limits to human behaviour. Hypocrisy and pretentiousness for instance. It’s interesting to see how some people can go back to past situations so easily without realizing the mistakes they once did. – If you have had a bad experience, why going back to it? Why not learning from it and avoid it? – My answer: masochism or just plain stupidity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is meant to be vague for anonymity’s sake.  If you feel this describes your current situation, you are probably right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Unfinished Post #2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Too many questions…&lt;br /&gt;Should we allow ourselves to feel loved, wanted or desired? At the end, we are all just looking for that one person. What sacrifices are considered acceptable to fulfill that dream? Is it a selfish view to look for appreciation elsewhere? Are we all emotionally constricted because of the way we believe human relationships should work? Or is it all so subjective that we unconsciously impose our own rules at the expense of others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Unfinished Post #3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Everything should be simpler as this: People who do not add any emotional value to your life are transitory and disposable. They are gray beings that share the same place you live in – you see them and you’re forgetting about them at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Unfinished Post #4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;"The Map is not the territory"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It is used to signify that individual people, in fact, do not in general have access to absolute knowledge of reality, but in fact only have access to a set of beliefs they have built up over time, about reality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As explained by Neil Gaiman: One describes a tale best by telling the tale. The way one describes a story, to oneself or the world, is by telling the story. It is a balancing act and it is a dream. The more accurate the map, the more it resembles the territory. The most accurate map possible would be the territory, and thus would be perfectly accurate and perfectly useless. The tale is the map that is the territory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-5211388204648090345?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/5211388204648090345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/03/unfinished-posts-part-i.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5211388204648090345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5211388204648090345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2008/03/unfinished-posts-part-i.html' title='Unfinished Posts - Part I'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-8932492903251258006</id><published>2007-11-14T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T06:44:10.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quihubo con el frijol?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RzvUed6dbyI/AAAAAAAAAEM/vpl60wFhRZs/s1600-h/100_6490-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 168px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RzvUed6dbyI/AAAAAAAAAEM/vpl60wFhRZs/s320/100_6490-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132929820209803042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pobres de nosotros! pobres mexicanos radicados en Canadá que sufren sin querer queriendo.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es esa época del año otra vez, en donde el frío se apodera de nuestros destemplados huesitos y ni la bufanda mas pachona nos salva de unos buenos escalofríos. Hacerse el valiente tampoco funciona (un familiar trato de usar esta táctica por guey, y se le paralizo la mitad del rostro... por el frío, no por guey), y ponerse muchos suéteres de la abuelita protegen, pero siempre habrá algún huequito por donde se cuele el aire gélido. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es también esa época donde los días se acortan y el hambre se alarga. me doy cuenta que el hambre es inversamente proporcional a la luz del sol y directamente proporcional al frío. Osease que tengo hambre todo el día y toda la noche. Inocentemente pienso que es como un mecanismo de defensa, mientras mas coma, mas calientita estoy y menos frió tengo. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se que no soy la única mexicana que cada que sale a la intemperie piensa- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"porque no hay un puesto de atoles y tortas de tamal?!, deja tu tortas de tamal, una concha calientita aunque sea"&lt;/span&gt;... mientras me pregunto eso, un mexicano fresa me contesta: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Y para que quieres tamales, si enfrente tienes un Starbucks, y en contraesquina, y a la vuelta, y atrás..."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(no, pues si)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"y para que quieres atole, si ahí te puedes tomar un riquísimo mocha, frappuccino de raspberry con extra whipped cream y chochitos de colores"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(si, pues no)&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que hacemos entonces para quitarnos este frío tan atroz?!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sugerencias de amigos y familiares:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;- no pienses en el frío (Orale! así de fácil, eh?)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- escucha cumbias (gracias Vicko, no me funciona)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- tapate hasta las fosas nasales (bastante incomoda, pero la mas&lt;br /&gt; sensata)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- usa ropa pegadita y térmica (Wal-Mart es tan sabio)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- no salgas! (créeme que lo haría, pero eso de la hibernada&lt;br /&gt; no se me da)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;- come muchos cacahuates, nueces, pasitas, etc. (vamos mejorando)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;- escapa y regresate a México lo mas pronto posible (AH! Bingo)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;En el próximo post discutiré como &lt;strike&gt;caminar&lt;/strike&gt; sobrevivir en la nieve, namas dejen que caiga la primera nevada para inspirarme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-8932492903251258006?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/8932492903251258006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/11/quihubo-con-el-frijol.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/8932492903251258006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/8932492903251258006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/11/quihubo-con-el-frijol.html' title='Quihubo con el frijol?!'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RzvUed6dbyI/AAAAAAAAAEM/vpl60wFhRZs/s72-c/100_6490-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-6899397645085914398</id><published>2007-11-05T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T21:26:09.782-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>Duh...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://tn3-1.deviantart.com/fs8/300W/i/2005/287/9/6/I_see_dumb_people_o_O_by_cool_slayer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 199px; height: 204px;" alt="" src="http://tn3-1.deviantart.com/fs8/300W/i/2005/287/9/6/I_see_dumb_people_o_O_by_cool_slayer.jpg" border="0" height="284" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;La diferencia entre &lt;strong&gt;"frenar"&lt;/strong&gt; y &lt;strong&gt;"enfrenar";&lt;/strong&gt; podría explicarle a mis amistades que mi vehículo es un potro salvaje al que hay que contener y sujetar.. claro que no manejo un Mustang pero si tuviera un auto, también tendria el ego al máximo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Image is © to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cool-slayer.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cool-Slayer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-6899397645085914398?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/6899397645085914398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/11/duh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6899397645085914398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6899397645085914398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/11/duh.html' title='Duh...'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-7354008719050206994</id><published>2007-10-27T17:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T21:26:52.080-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><title type='text'>His name is Jim...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Every morning I walk five blocks to go to work. On chilly mornings at -20C this turns into an ordeal: I feel my bones cringing and my lips getting drier with every step. I turn right, then cross the street and there he is… sitting in a stone bench, with a coffee on his hand and a cigarette on the other. I look at him with questioning eyes, and he musters a smile, waves and says “good morning”. I’m not sure how long he has been doing that, but I’ve been taking that same path for more than a year and he’s been there ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days he is not there, and I can’t help thinking if he is ever going to come back, yet the next morning, he is sitting there sipping his coffee and waving at strangers. One day, I asked him his name, he said it was Jim and gave me a wrinkled smile - I guessed he must be at least 70 years old, but not only that, he is also one of the 3,436 homeless people in Calgary’s Downtown–only- a number that has been increasing over the last three years due to Alberta’s boom economy, making affordable housing almost non-existent for a minimum wage worker, let alone an unemployed person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Some days I wished I could sit and joined him with a cup of coffee, but I’m always in such a rush. I feel bad for it. Homelessness is everybody’s problem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none ; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none ; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; padding: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none ; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; padding: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 359px; height: 251px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/27/60571806_784af48d68.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none ; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; padding: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Photo by &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/82104796@N00/"&gt;Steven McDonald&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/82104796@N00/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-7354008719050206994?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/7354008719050206994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/10/his-name-is-jim.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/7354008719050206994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/7354008719050206994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/10/his-name-is-jim.html' title='His name is Jim...'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/27/60571806_784af48d68_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-5923105556500038916</id><published>2007-10-18T23:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T15:09:53.032-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Calgary'/><title type='text'>La rutina inusual</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si siento claustrofobia en el tren, no es el espacio reducido, es el abrumamiento de ver tantas cabezas pensando al mismo tiempo- ideas congestionadas y problemas atropellados. No es estar físicamente apretada, sino percibir el trafico de ideas; el caos psicológico de las masas. Todo esto sumado a los acontecimientos que siguieron y que hicieron que mi viaje se volviera un tanto surreal: escucho el ruido estresante de una sirena de bomberos, que se diluye en el sonido nostálgico de un violín. Un violín? Si. en una esquina una mujer esbelta y sofisticada, mueve su brazo y sacude su cabeza con pasión mientras toca su pieza. La sonancia es súbitamente enmudecida por el ruido y la vibración de un pedazo del edificio que esta (estaba) enfrente, donde una demoledora hostil, abofetea las paredes del edificio y lo pulveriza. La destrucción entonada con el ritmo con la música. Mi viaje en tren es, a veces, una incongruencia de emociones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-5923105556500038916?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5923105556500038916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/5923105556500038916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/10/la-rutina-inusual.html' title='La rutina inusual'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-2491840799819821808</id><published>2007-10-02T22:31:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T15:10:08.120-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photography'/><title type='text'>They made me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;Updates updates!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;K, so I participated in the &lt;st1:street st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:address st="on"&gt;2007   &lt;a href="http://www1.unitedway.ca/sites/PortalEN/default.aspx"&gt;United Way&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/st1:address&gt;&lt;/st1:street&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;campaign (international non-charitable organization) – hosted in &lt;a href="http://www.altagas.ca/"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;the place&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt; where I work. At first, I wasn’t very enthusiastic about this event because they kind of force you to volunteer and donate $, which is fine, but then they make a b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;ig deal out of it, not to mention massive e-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;mails coming from the organizers with stuff like:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“…you have until 2:00 p.m. to donate! If you don’t do it, your team will loose, shame on YOU!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Have you thought about those poor African kids?! They’re dying and it’s because you didn’t donate a penny!...”&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I was getting kind of fed up and overwhelmed an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;d then, the organizers asked me to coordinate the “ART” side of one of our auctions – long story short, I gave my amateur opinion and advice and in the end, they ignored pretty much everything I had said. Oh well… I’m getting used to it by now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Anyways, I donated three of my photos taken &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Mexico&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, which sold for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;$40&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;$25&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;$20 &lt;/span&gt;(see below). Not bad, considering the cost of printing and framing was like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;$8&lt;/span&gt; each. LOL!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;                                             * 1 *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RwMdKFGtNaI/AAAAAAAAADs/qF0dpvWWTpM/s1600-h/100_9645-wm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RwMdKFGtNaI/AAAAAAAAADs/qF0dpvWWTpM/s200/100_9645-wm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116965660629218722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                                            &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;* 2  *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RwMdKFGtNbI/AAAAAAAAAD0/fDJxzDQM3c4/s1600-h/new_photos+243-wm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RwMdKFGtNbI/AAAAAAAAAD0/fDJxzDQM3c4/s200/new_photos+243-wm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116965660629218738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                                         &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  * 3 *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RwMdKVGtNcI/AAAAAAAAAD8/rh65EmbSYfM/s1600-h/new_photos+239-wm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RwMdKVGtNcI/AAAAAAAAAD8/rh65EmbSYfM/s200/new_photos+239-wm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116965664924186050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one with the soccer balls was very popular and I was happy with the results – gave me a new sense of accomplishment when people were actually giving me constructive criticism and saying how much they loved it. Something I haven’t received in a long time. &lt;i style=""&gt;Feels good to be appreciated, no matter how simple and how small it was. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-2491840799819821808?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/2491840799819821808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/2491840799819821808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/10/they-made-me.html' title='They made me...'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RwMdKFGtNaI/AAAAAAAAADs/qF0dpvWWTpM/s72-c/100_9645-wm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-1211592718863684484</id><published>2007-09-22T00:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T06:44:11.298-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomness'/><title type='text'>El Blogspotl</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Todavia no me he decidido si este blog va a ser en &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ingles&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;spanglish &lt;/span&gt;o chilangoñol. A veces no me siento comoda describiendo situaciones en uno o en otro. Las ideas fluyen (o se atoran) de diferente manera. Lo que es cierto, es que no soy buena escribiendo en ninguno de los dos- eso es un hecho casi innegable porque nunca he recibido algun comentario diciendo que les gusta &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;como&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; escribo o lo que escribo. Pero esta bien, quedara en su conciencia. (ay si, la sentida...)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Una cosa por la que si creo que deberia recibir un pequeño reconocimiento es el escribir usando un Microsoft Word con el Ingles como default que me pone rojitos en cualquier palabra que escribo porque no reconoce ninguna palabra en español; que no tiene ñ’s, y que me hace escribir palabras como &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“parawas” “awita” &lt;/span&gt;y &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“pinwino”&lt;/span&gt;, porque tampoco tiene dieresis (ese par de puntitos que muy pocos hispanos conocen o que los usan como smileys &lt;b style=""&gt;Ü&lt;/b&gt;). La neta, es que un plug-in en español seria suficiente, pero me gusta sufrir.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RvS1n1GtNYI/AAAAAAAAADc/tM8nU3EhqIE/s1600-h/blogspotl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 143px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RvS1n1GtNYI/AAAAAAAAADc/tM8nU3EhqIE/s200/blogspotl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112911172847089026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Esto me recuerda al post que vi en el blog de Plaqueta: El Blogspotl, el mecsican blogger que todos llevamos dentro (de ahi el titulo). No se me hace mala idea, pero pronto empezariamos a ver esas segregaciones culturales que nos catalogarian &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;como&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; otra de las muchas comunidades Latino Americanas. (chale, yo siempre traigo algo contra los Latinos…) &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;De hecho, esa es uno de los propositos de este blog – dar mi opinion y decir lo que pienso en cuanto a la aculturacion de los &lt;i style=""&gt;mexicanos&lt;/i&gt; (no sudamericanos) en &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Canada&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. Que sentimos cuando nos hacen pasar meses sin comer tacos al pastor? Que sentimos cuando los canadienses no entienden nuestros albures? Porque chingaos hace tanto frio? Porque nos gusta enseñarles palabrotas a los chinos? Porque todos los Canadienses piensan que vivimos en &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Cancun&lt;/st1:place&gt;? Porque los pocos restaurantes Mexicanos sirven comida tan gacha y cara? Y en general, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;como&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; me siento respecto a otras culturas &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;del&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; sur de &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;america&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; viviendo aqui.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(este parrafo iba &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;como&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; que mas arriba)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Tambien ahorita me acabo de dar cuenta que este post debio de haber sido &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;como&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; el principio y la introduccion &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;del&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; blog, o mas bien &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;como&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; el preludio &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;del&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; principio, pero no importa, me gusta ser atemporal. El orden me aturde.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Aniweis, ya no se &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;como&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; terminar este post. Nunca he sido buena &lt;i style=""&gt;terminando&lt;/i&gt; algo- da nostalgia. Mejor dejo todos mis posts inconclusos, asi los dejare a ustedes en suspenso…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Bueno, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;como&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; dije que ya iba a terminarlo, arruine el suspenso (chinga) tal vez pal otro si funcione…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-1211592718863684484?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/1211592718863684484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/09/el-blogspotl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/1211592718863684484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/1211592718863684484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/09/el-blogspotl.html' title='El Blogspotl'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/RvS1n1GtNYI/AAAAAAAAADc/tM8nU3EhqIE/s72-c/blogspotl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-2598697969299839193</id><published>2007-09-10T13:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T00:35:08.653-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='september 15'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mexican independence'/><title type='text'>The Girl Who Hates Independence Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://projects.gsd.harvard.edu/appendx/dev/issue2/marquardt/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 129px; height: 169px;" alt="" src="http://projects.gsd.harvard.edu/appendx/dev/issue2/marquardt/5.jpg" border="0" height="165" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;Warning: Highly “Malinchistic” Content&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;em&gt;Disclaimer: I love my culture and I don't have anything against mexicans. It's just this one day that really bothers me. that said, I expect being less flamed for this post.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Bless my luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is better than being a Mexican born in Sept 15? Well, I’ll tell ya…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(If you share my cultural heritage, you would know what I’m talking about)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A grosso modo, September 15 is one of the biggest Mexican celebrations: Independence Day. Every year, Mexicans &lt;em&gt;around the world&lt;/em&gt; gather together and party hard. The main reason for celebration is sometimes forgotten, sometimes overlooked, or even substituted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who cares? It’s party time, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not for me anyways. I always try to avoid this very special day; it’s like your birthday was on the 4th of July and all you got as presents were US flags and Uncle Sam plushies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming to Canada gave me a new hope. But O lordy! Who would’ve thought there were all kind of Mexican associations scattered all over this northern territory!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been twice to this Independence parties: both times had an amazingly… boring time.&lt;br /&gt;The food was questionable and minimal, the tickets were expensive and the drinks were… well, let’s just say I was very thirsty the whole night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the people? I met like 10 Mexicans and was not impressed at all. It’s my fault anyways; I’m very selective and sensitive about how people behave, talk, conduct themselves; as well as education, humbleness, modesty, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m a tough cookie, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But can you really blame me for not wanting to go this year? CAN YOU?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m just going to put it this way: I’d rather spend my b-day alone with my cat, than parting with a bunch of Latino populace who can’t even spell “Independence”. Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m guilty of heresy! Burn me at the stake! Hang me and behead me for I am accountable for my profanity! LOL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;Credits:&lt;/span&gt; Image of "Malinche" by Rosario Marquardt. Original can be found &lt;a href="http://projects.gsd.harvard.edu/appendx/dev/issue2/marquardt/index5.htm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-2598697969299839193?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/2598697969299839193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/09/girl-who-hates-independence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/2598697969299839193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/2598697969299839193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/09/girl-who-hates-independence.html' title='The Girl Who Hates Independence Day'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4787163163016697675.post-6336663784435704227</id><published>2007-09-06T23:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T18:12:13.980-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>O Luciano!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Hail to the tenor of our times! the master shantè whose voice echoed in the abyss of the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will miss you, Luciano. Reqiescat in Pace.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.nndb.com/people/875/000023806/pav1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Penso che una vita per la musica sia una vita spesa bene ed è a questo che mi sono dedicato."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4787163163016697675-6336663784435704227?l=lydyzze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/feeds/6336663784435704227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/09/o-luciano.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6336663784435704227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4787163163016697675/posts/default/6336663784435704227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lydyzze.blogspot.com/2007/09/o-luciano.html' title='O Luciano!'/><author><name>Lydyzze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03844363622921954705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VR6X1pK12uY/Sb_UsiQVIoI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qFCeMUbvHG0/S220/2603_138546230194_722925194_6203037_4864306_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
