Touring, touring, it's never boring

I wanted so badly to post something, but it's still too soon...

Hang in there, imaginary readers, for there is much to come! There will be Dublin, there will be Liverpool and there will be Edinburg - up to now. I just have to be cool enough to start posting at the right time - when I DO have something to say or show.

See you soon.

Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.

oooor...
"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them."






Yep, there's a tribute to Tolkien on my ankle now.
The original drawing is here.
=D

Soap Invader from Mars

He arrived on a hot sunny day, happy to finally meet the blue planet.

First thing he did was searching for some cows to abduct to his planet.

Then he made some fairy tales friends, ...

... and he rent a nice car to travel.


And he traveled! A lot!

Abroad, he made more new friends.

But he came back to see his 'special friend' again.

And took time to relax alone too, ...


... before going back with the smartest specie he could find on Earth.

Soudtrack: Ziggy Stardust, David Bowie

ET made with this.

I was looking for a job and then I've found the job

I think getting fired is comparable with breaking up with a boy/girlfriend.

First of all, it's not something that just happens. There's always a prelude, you start feeling it's gonna happen, like that feeling you have when you feel stormy wind and see a blackened sky - even though you just realize the signals after it happens.
You have the intuition something is about to happen, but you just prefer to ignore that and go on with the routine.

Then there is the fatal moment of "Can we talk for a moment?" You get shrives down your spine, you heart becomes a mad woodpecker and it seems there's something between you and the reality that's making everything too real. You KNOW the content of this conversation you're about to have, but you just try to convince yourself that's something else.
It's the moment of the arguments, reasons, explanations. All in vain. You are given no options and you end up just wanting to never see the person (or persons, depending on the company) again. But along comes the bureaucracy.

In case of a breakup, you need to get your things back and there's always something left that will make you see the person again.
In case of getting fired - and that's all what this post is about - you need to come back to clean your desk, to leave you documents, to get your documents, then there's something wrong with one of them and you have to come back there. Once. Twice. For the third time. For the tormenting fourth time. (that's where I am now, I'm praying is the last one and it's leading me into a long and anxious insomnia).

A couple of days/weeks after you have that mixed bitter happy feeling of freedom, but your not quite sure if it's good or bad, and just in order to feel comfortable and secure again, you wish never to have got fired/dumped from the beginning, even if everything and everyone is telling it was the best thing that happened to you.

*A post titled by a The Smiths song has always to be - on principle - a mourning one. Sorry.

Here I go again on my own

Ok, I couldn't post after more than 6 months without a bit of drama. A simple "I'm back" title would be boring and inexpressive: I really needed a tacky sentence form a tacky song that would be stuck in your head at least for the rest of the day.

Well, the point is I'm back. I'm back studying for teaching, I'm back teaching, I'm back to college for post graduation. The only thing that's not back is the idealization of a life inside an office from 9 to 6. I had the experience, I was even enjoying it, but it's just not enough for me.

Not being able to set my schedule, being forced to stay indoors even if I've produced enough for the day, having only one financial source...that's just not for me. I just don't fit, I think. I'm too lazy for that.

Anyway, I was kind of my option to come back. If I hadn't been fired, I would have been working though inertia. That shook me over. Let's just see if I've made the right choice this time. No drama, no regrets.

8 days a week

I know Mondays aren't easy, but they're not the only day on which happiness choses to stay in bed.
What about Wednesdays? It's impossible to like it... There are no reasons at all to be happy on Wednesdays.
On Tuesdays, you're happy because Monday's over.
On Thursdays, you're happy because the next day's Friday.
On Fridays, we're in love.

But what's the reason to be happy on Mondays and Wednesdays?

It was a long time ago, longer now than it seems...

Well, I think the last rock festival I went was in 1996, if I'm not wrong. I used to love festivals! All day long just seeing a hundred thousand bands playing, sometimes bands that you don't even care, but very important to the history of rock.
And last Saturday I just went back to that wonderful part of my teenage years:

Presenting 2 stages and no break metal on your head since 2 p.m., Maquinaria brought bands only reaaaally metal people like. The organization was perfect, even the bathrooms were clear and supplied with toilet paper! Incredible!
And it tough me some lessons:

1. Headbanging is for people who don't need to work in front of a computer on the day after. I'm writing this post under the effect of muscle relaxing pills, such pain I'm feeling.
2. Jumping for hours is for athletes, not for mere English professionals. I just can't climb a single stair.
3. Screaming imitating metal singers is only for those who don't care about their throat.
4. Old rockers with painted face on the stage talking about zombies, gulls, and monsters RULES!
5. Sepultura is the proof that noise can be technical.

And last but not least, a very important piece of advice:
- If you do like music, if its essential to your life, you just CAN'T die without seeing 2 "things" alive: a Philharmonic Orchestra and Sepultura. Both are more than just musicians playing, they are living organisms on the stage and they touch your guts with their music. In different ways, of course.