I hate dating

People usually asks me why I dont date more, since I'm a good-looking, smart and funny girl. "Aggie you gotta go out to the worrrld, gurl! Experience life! There are tons of boys who would love to date you!" This aint me talking, my self-esteem aint that good all the time, this is my friends, my granny, my dad, even guys talking.

So, last night, talking to a friend I once dated, I was telling him about a guy who asked me out 5 years ago and found me again via Facebook. Thing is five years ago I thought he was really good-looking but also a douche. He says he was stupid back then, and I kinda forgot why wouldnt I go out with him except that I have huge trust issues. But then talking to the guy, I remembered we had huge differences while talking about art (I met him at a museum) and then talking about life in general, I was white and he was black every single time, which is fine, but I remember talking to him 5 years ago and he was kinda annoying when we didnt agree. Anyway, that could lead to marriage or hatred during the first date and me not wanting to see him ever again.

But, ANYWAY, thing is, most of the times, I dont date because:

- Dating makes me nervous. I feel like a product I'm trying to sell and I feel the other person is going through the same, and I also feel like Simon at American Idol judging the other person's every tiny characteristic and I suppose the other person is doing the exact same thing with me while trying to look relaxed and comfortable with the whole situation.

- I do NOT enjoy chit chat. Sometimes I chit chat, but like... With old people. Old people love chit chat, dont know why, maybe cause there isnt much going on in their lives, I dont know, maybe they dont read books anymore nor use the internet. Girls love chit chat. Sometimes chit chat with girls can be fun. No, sorry, chit chat aint fun, chit chat is fun when it leads to gossip and that only happens with girls and with my boy friends who are kind of like a girl when it comes to gossipping although they are not gay. So, finding a subject to talk about, sometimes can be really hard, and I don't enjoy talking just for the sake of talking, nor I enjoy having to put effort in it and try to find a cool, interesting subject to talk about. I sometimes think people might think im a bit weird so I try to water down my opinions like, I wont say Id eat a baby if my plane crashes on some island and I survive, but I think I would. And I wouldnt say I like guys in uniforms, specially sailors or nazi uniforms. The nazi thing shocks people sometimes but... Come on! Hugo Boss, anyone? Sometimes I do say it 'cause as some guy said, I'm a bit of a firecracker.

- Money. Im usually kind of broke from being young and in college and a tad unemployed, so I went out with this guy who was better off economically than me. We went to Mc D's and he payed, OK. But then he also wanted to go to Starbucks. I didnt want to go to Starbucks and I didnt want to spend the money I had for that day on Starbucks, but I did. I know I should've had money for the date, but I only dated once before that and the guy made the date pretty cheap that time, so I didnt get worried about the money thing and also I didnt ant to as kmy dad for money for a date. Also, the guy said something like "who knew you'd get a boyfriend at Starbucks?" that did it. I didnt go out with him again. We chatted. I think he didnt like me as well cause he didnt ask me out again or maybe I'm just weird when I chat and he got the 'I-wont-go-out-with-you-again' vibes. I dont know.

- And, more importantly, I do not date 'cause who would do something they don't like with someone they don't know if they like? I know dates are for finding out if you like each other and blah blah but usually when I see a boy I like, I know I like him right away. Otherwise, it means I'm just not that into him. It doesnt matter if he's a douche, if he's super drunk at the time, If I like him, I'd like him right away at any kind of situation, I just work like that. I see lots of people letting love for another person "grow" like, making an effort to like/love someone. Why would I do that? I prefer to be alone or have tons of cats than bringin someone in my life for the sake of having someone in my life.

- Also, dating can be fun and sometimes you gotta push yourself to do things that make you uncomfortable, so it's not like I'm a social narrow-minded freak. So take a leap of faith..? That just sounds shitty, sorry. Do whatever the fuck you want. <3

Girly Shit

oh gee

this friend complaining about the fact that she hasnt fucked with her new bf who is also her best friend in 2 days

seriously?!

2 days? try a month or more with a guy who u r falling for but doesnt want a relationship with u

damn, ppl and its stupid dramas

i wanna fuck

why doesnt he fuck me? do i have to txt him everytime? does he fucks lots of other girls? cause i dont think so

im so pissed at the world

its spring day here

i hate spring day

as much as valentine's day

even more

cause at least in valentines, i can laugh at stupid bfs going nuts buying stupid presents for sex

Mis suenios de esta semana

Esta semana estuve durmiendo muy mal y teniendo sueños tan intensos que cuando me levantaba estaba aturdida y cansada.

El primer sueño así de intenso se dio en realidad hace aproximadamente dos semanas. Yo vivía en un suburbio onda yankee y mi amigo me decia que uno de sus amigos se había muerto, a quien habíamos visto la noche anterior. Yo no le creia porque todos actuaban normal. Luego prendo la tv y esta la foto de perfil de Facebook (ni siquiera una foto suya) en una esquina de la pantalla. Aparentemente se había convertido en actor y yo lo desconocía. Todo el día pasaron reportajes y entrevistas a el en la tele. Yo lloraba desconsolada. Rarisimo. Porque no lo conozco practicamente. Luego logre que mi amigo se quebrara y llorara también jaja. Y me desperté tan angustiada como en el sueño y cansada como si hubiese estado llorando un día entero.

El siguiente sueño lo tuve hace dos noches. Yo volvía a mi primaria, claro que en el sueño se veía distinta. Y como ese día había estado cambiando el fondo de pantalla de mi computadora, en el sueño podía cambiar el diseño del piso del colegio. Había ex profesores y demás. Luego voy a un lugar donde hay un gran nogal y entre las raíces se formaba como un circulo enorme donde te podías sentar. Ahí estaba uno de mis ex profesores, Hugh Laurie. Si, no repressentaba a ningún otro profesor, solo era un profesor. Me contaba que su mujer (Cuddy en Dr. House) estaba embarazada. Se notaba que el tenia dudas respecto a esa relación. Mi hermana empezó a comer nueces y me dio una. Las nueces eran muy raras. Eran enormes y les sacabas la cascara y tenían una capa que se comía muy rica y luego muchas nueces tipo avellanas adentro pero sin cascara del mismo sabor que la capa anterior que se comía. Es raro, debería dibujarlo. Cuestión que termino "cuddling" con mi ex-profesor Hugh Laurie y comiendo nueces hasta que viene mi papa a buscarnos a mi hermana y a mi y se sorprende que este en tal situación con mi profesor pero no hace nada al respecto. Fin. Un wet dream bastante inocente.

Anoche, luego de una noche de Absolut libre, y dormir con frío porque me acosté cubierta por mi toalla húmeda y el pelo mojado y con dolor de panza (el vodka nunca me sienta demasiado bien), tuve una pesadilla y un wet dream.

El primero era muy raro, estábamos con mi mama, mi papa y mi hermana, primero estaba sola en un pueblo que parecía que tenia zombie apocalipsis. Pero no, solo había un par de negros no muy amigables por lo que tenia que huir, luego encuentro en un bote a mi familia. E íbamos recorriendo un rió entre botes y todo era muy raro y terminaba en una escalera que iba a nuestra supuesta casa. Y teníamos muchas obras de arte muy caras y buenas y mis padres comenzaron a pelear y mi madre rompía un montón de esculturas y cuadros geniales y yo me ponía a llorar agarrando un pedazo de una de mis esculturas favoritas. Y bueno, claramente tiene que ver con la separación de mis padres.

El siguiente sueño fue en una fiesta y el chico que me gusta me terminaba diciendo de irme a la casa con el. Todo se daba de manera extraña, onda me iba a buscar específicamente hasta esa fiesta o algo así medio romanticon barato pero sin final romántico, porque solo me decía de ir a la casa, no es que nos íbamos en un carruaje y me pedía casamiento (por suerte). Pero no estuvo bueno darse cuenta de que era un sueño y que no había sucedido...

En fin, fueron todos sueños que sentí muy intensos y que, salvo el de Hugh Laurie, no fueron mucho de mi agrado e hicieron que me despertara muy cansada física y mentalmente aun habiendo dormido bastante. Quizás debo empezar a dormir menos.

Las lecturas deberían estar prohibidas...

No soy muy fan de las lecturas, pero tenia ganas de ir a una muestra de arte (ya saben, alcohol gratis y esas cosas). Aparte quedaba a cuadras de lo de mi abuela y yo ya estaba ahí, así que concrete cita con una amiga/ex-comp de trabajo y luego de pasear un poco por la la plaza de Juramento, donde había un tipo que hacia girar platos sobre varillas sostenidas por tres nenas hermosas, fuimos.

El lugar de la muestra era genial, porque era una galería al aire libre, y a mi me encantan las galerías al aire libre. Me hace acordar a cuando iba a hacer tiempo entre el colegio y mi clase de gimnasia o ingles y almorzaba en una galería que se llama Queen's Village Gallery en el centro de San Isidro, la cual todos llaman "la galería de madera" porque tiene arquitectura de estilo normando.

La librería donde se llevaba a cabo la muestra, PAN Libros, era pequeña y hermosa. Llena de geniales ediciones de liros que no se suelen encontrar en cualquier lado y en su defecto, el precio de los mismos acompañaba. 90 pesos por Catcher In The Rye? En serio? Otros libros si tenían un precio mas razonable acorde a la edición y encuadernación y tema.

En el evento habían prometido fanzines... No había mucho de eso salvo una edición de fanzines de la muestra en si con una fotocopia de los cuadros expuestos y lo leído en la misma.

El menú consistía de te, brownies y vino... Y elegí las ultimas dos opciones obviamente!

Comenzaron las lecturas entonces, ya de noche. Una insegura blogger con un kindle leyendo directo de internet, diciendo que nunca había leído antes, que iba a leer mal, que no veía nada donde estaba. Leyó pésimo. No se si era bueno lo que leía, seguro que no, pero su lectura lo empeoro aun mas. Lo peor de todo fue cuando se dispuso a ir a un lugar con mayor luz, que estaba AL LADO MIO. La mort. Simule escuchar con atención y cuando finalmente termino, me recluí en la librería a ver libros de fotografía y no escuche a nadie mas.

El problema de las lecturas es que quizás el material es bueno, pero al leerlo el mismo que lo escribió, queda arruinado. Yo creo que el problema de eso reside en que lo leen ellos como personas y no como el yo lírico del texto. No entiendo como no pueden separar eso. Una vez en la poesía, la persona deja de ser el individuo que la escribió por mas personal que sea lo escrito, es un ente aparte del escriba y no debe ser leído con la carga de la persona que lo escribió y sus inseguridades y temores sino con la carga del yo lírico únicamente. Creo que es por esto que las lecturas de gente con poca experiencia fallan.

Luego están los que leen hace tiempo, pero lo hacen desde esa posición "arty" y soberbia del "yo, artista" y es por esto que, no solo fallan sino que terminan siendo molestos al escucharlos.

Por eso resulta tanto mejor cuando uno como simple receptor lee, por mas que no sepa leer tan bien ese genero literario, o alguien que si sabe leer el genero pero no escribió esa obra. Esas personas suelen darle la carga del yo lírico y no la propia de la persona, como una profesora que anoche nos leyó algo de Paul Celan y fue increíble.

Otra cosa que detesto es la gente que lee con demasiada velocidad la poesía. No me da tiempo a introducirme en ella.

Los únicos artistas que pueden leer lo propio es gente que realmente sabe de poesía o que simplemente sabe bien disociarse a si mismo como artista del yo lírico, y creo que esas deben ser las mejores lecturas. Aun no me sucedió de escuchar a alguien así, porque siempre prefiero leer yo, ya que suelo empezar a soñar despierta y perderme cuando otro me lee.

Irony Runs My Life (Or my mind runs my life with constant irony)

Thanks to my former job, I found, by chance, my kitten. I was hoping to have and find a homeless kitten for so long, and after more than two years of my previous amazing cat, Luna's death, I found it. I was walking around my former office's neighborhood with a co-worker, we used to go out and smoke a joint eery now and then. And, all of a sudden, a front yard full of playful kittens! I was looking for a black cat, but it was love at first sight with this champagne coloured kitten. A week later, I found the owner home and took him with me. Named him River Phoenixxx cause to me he looked like the actor (yeh, Im aware he was a cat, ok?). For some reason, I knew he was going to fill my life of joy, I needed to show love to a furry ball that wouldnt complain (much) about it. Also, I wanted it to purr a lot. So And, also, for some reason I thought Id have him for 1 year and a half. I dont know if it happened because I thought it would, or if I knew it would happen because I have such a good instinct or Im a psychich or whatever. All I wanted was to quit my job so I would have more time at home and to enjoy my cat. He was the best cat in the whole world. So, as soon as I quit my job, he leaves. Cats always leave, sometimes for months, specially if they are male and non-castrated. I went to Uruguay for 10 days. I knew he'd be back. And he was back when I was back, but also, he was really ill. He had a urinary infection. I was staying at my mum's and no one told me what was going on, finally, after 3 days, my dad told me and I went home right away. He had been taking care of him all those days, taking him to the vet, paying a hundred pesos a day and all. Wednesday he was doing so much better. Thursday, I stayed home with him, all I wanted to do was to hold him, he was so swallen, he was always going to the videt cause he was peeing but it was so hard for him and he was so tidy and clean, more than I am... I knew I had to take him to the vet, and I asked a boy I used to date if he could take me. He said yes but that he was really busy so better if I found somebody else. So, out of my stupid pride, I didnt ask him. And I left for class. I left my cat alone, there, in pain. When I got back, my dad had already took him to the vet and left him there. In the morning, I was awaked by my dad just saying "Agos..." and he just started to cry, he felt like such a failure cause he couldnt save him. Thing is, all I wanted was time to be with him, and once I got time, he was gone. None of my pets' deaths affected me as much as this one cause I miss him all the fraking time and sometimes I think I see him but he's not there and now all the other cats from the neighborhood come to my lawn to hang out, and I try to feed them like a lonely granny but they just run away. The worst thing was to bury him. I hate that everything I love ends up covered by mud. He was still warm and soft. I wrote some nice messages in the cloth we put him in, I cut some of his Squirrel Tail fur (which I keep) and just couldnt stop caressing him, till my dad had to go to work and I didnt want to do it by myself, so we buried him. I miss his squirrel tail so much.

First Kiss

My mum, her husband, my sis and I were watching Simpsons. It was that episode where Bart's class has to share the clasroom with the other second grade, which they knew nothing about. So Bart sits next to this girl who kind of reminds me of me in High School. So they start to hang out and skate, and one day, following his grandpa's advice, Bart kisses her. And she goes all "Eeeewwwwww Bart Simpson KISSED me! And now that'll be my first kiss FOREVER!" So they put this "No Touching" rule at school and they put posters on the walls that says "Coootiiieeesss!" or "Alaska Nebraska yadda yadda".

Anyway, my mum goes: "Why is the first kiss so important? I dont think it is, I dont even remember who was my first kiss." And I say that I of course remember my first kiss (it was only six years ago but I dont think Ill ever forget, not because it was good, nor bad, just because I know Ill remember, mainly because it was summer and there's not much going on during summer when you're a kid). Nobody asked, but my sister surely remembers because she is only thirteen and it was 2 years ago top, dont know if it was french kissing though. Does it count if its not french kissing? So my mum keeps saying: "I still dont get why is it such a big deal, its just a kiss...Honey (refering to her husband), do you remember your first kiss?" So my mum's husband starts saying the he was just a kid, he was 12 or 14, dont really remember right now. Maybe because I interrupted and said: "Aha! You know why is it so important? What did you just ask him? About his first kiss! You didnt ask him about the second, or the third, or any other kiss, you asked him about his first kiss! Touche."

And that's why its so important, because everybody asks about the first, and that's the story you'll be telling forever, you can tell about other memorable kisses, yes, but people wont ask you about it, you're going to tell people about it yourself. And you cant make-up some story about a first kiss 'cause thats just stupid, so you gotta take what you got. So, everybody, please stop asking about people's first times on anything, just ask about the best time on anything? Yeh, not so funny.

So if you're wondering, my first kiss was at the end of my 14th summer. Had this really nice summer in my neighborhood, where I still live because I love it and because Id hate to live alone or in the city or both. So I had this two girlfriends. We biked from our houses to a municipal sports club all summer and met some guys there and we were all friends and would hang out in the pool or around the place, and of course there was the prettiest guy there who afterwards went to my highschool where I didnt think he was that pretty. And we had this friend, who one of my friends and I liked, and he knew it. Everybody did. So he kinda had to choose. I wanted him to choose me because I hadn't kissed a boy my whole life and I kinda wanted to experience that once and for all. So it took a while, but I "won" and got my first french kiss. I didnt know what to do at first, I thought it was going to be standing, kinda savage cause we were surrounded by trees and all, but it wasnt. He told me to sit down and then we just kissed for a while and I remember thinking: "Is this it? Really? This is boring...When is this going to end?" And after around 5 minutes, it finished. And my first kiss was over and I was glad it was and glad I had dealt with it. That was the only time we kissed. He was my friend's boyfriend by fall, and I was glad he chose me in the summer because I did not want him as a boyfriend. I met him last year at the bust stop, he recognised me, I took a while before figuring out it was him, and since we live nearby talked for a while on the bus.

Summer is such a perfect time because we get to show skin, relax and lose a bit of control, which we can during winter, but water seems to control me, and by the beach or a pool, I find people better looking and nicer. Also, I feel joyful and happy and smiling and joking and wanting to do stuff al fresco all the time. Also I drink more. And the best thing is that you know when summer's over, you wont keep on seeing that crush or that boy you had something with, and its perfect, because both of you get the best of each other, not to be ruined by the crankyness and boredom and complications of daily life routine. Or maybe, you both want to keep "summering" so you are all fun during winter trying to keep summer alive. Never happened yet. Should try that.

Whip It Good!

Stayed in Friday, and I was craving for a night out. Sometimes I get homie for about a month and dont mind at all staying in watching movies and eps of my favourite shows and just going out to the movies, theatre or eating. BUT, time had come and I needed to party.

Went to a bar near home to meet a friend, then convinced her to come to this Roller Derby party at Roxy. I really dig Roller Derby and the Facebook event said I was in for some live Roller Derby and nice merchandising. I was hoping to see my Argie Roller Derby team, the Bully Chicks, and probably, also buy a t-shirt of the team. Neither of those things happened.

We arrived holding our breath because we didnt have money for the $30 entry and the list was open till 1.30 AM. We were there late, but got in for free anyway (I wouldnt have paid for that). At the entry this Roller Derby girls were giving lollipops and candy. I could only stare at the Derby Girls with their hideous customes...They had this fluorescent wigs and outfits, going around the place feeling like rockstars. I was trying to figure out if Bully Chicks were one of teams in costumes. And kind of hoped they werent. Had my friend asking one of the Sailor City team girls for the merchandising. The Sailor City seemed super excited. We went to see the merch, which consisted in lots of pins, rulem necklaces, white tee-shirts with the legends: ¨I (heart) Roller Derby" and "I (heart) Derby Girls", which I must say I sort of loved, but were $45 and, I dont know if thats ok for a t-shirt or not, but I wasnt willing to pay for that. The other thing was a Psycho Rollers team tee, so I asked if there were other teams' stuff and said "Do you have any Bully Chicks tees?" To which the girl in charge of the merch responded: "No, thats another league" And I was like: "ANOTHER league?" Howcome there are TWO leagues in one city were Roller Derby has just started? Sounds crazy to me.

Some obvious but still fun and classic tunes were blasting at the place, till this awful rock-rockabilly looking-punk band jumped on stage. Luckily, Roxy has two dancefloors, so we headed to the other one after hearing to three songs of that band. Never knew how they were called. The other dance floor was more poppy/80s/90s, so at least we could have some girly fun. After a while there, my friend wanted to go to the toilet, and like the good girlfriend I am, went with her. Smell in there was hideous, so she didnt go, and the men toilet was guarded by a gorilla in black. Went back to the dance floor, and as Black Eyed Peas was the band of choice at the time, we headed to the now bandless dance floor, where they have more rock/80s(they always have 80s)/punkish music. The Clash, a classic indeed.

Finally, a woman on stage announced the Roller Derby girls and they all gathered to roll around holding each others' waists in a silly little round. No punching, no hardcore rolling, no blood, no shouting, just jolly girls in rollers feeling like their mum came to see their stupid little school act. That lasted about two songs, the third one, which was ACDC, they didnt know what to do anymore so they started jumping together. Some of them didnt know how to jump in rollers so just didnt jump or bended their knees to emulate the bouncing movement. It was a sad circus, if you ask me and thanked the lord I didnt find my team being part of it. Suddenly, Disco 2000 by Pulp started and all I could think about was me missing them at Primavera Sound 2011, where Pulp fans are more than truly grown, eleven years more than truly grown, to be exact. Im not, because they've met by the fountain years before when I became a fan. After a few more songs I knew by heart, I wanted to get the hell out of the nightmare caused by the Drew Barrimore/Ellen Page effect, so I reminded my friend she had work for college. She headed home. I headed to another party where nobody was a poser and booze was way cheaper.