Skip to main content

Cinco Meses

Cada día de regreso a casa en mi bicicleta me acuerdo de que tengo un blog. Comienzo en el camino a narrar mi próxima entrada acá, hablando de la opinión no solicitada, la hora filosófica barata, mis opiniones políticas, en fin. Pero no pasa nada, y así se me pasaron cinco meses sin dar ninguna de ellas.

Cinco meses de silencio bloguero, ¡cinco meses!. No conté mis impresiones sobre las elecciones en Colombia, lo triste que me parece no poder votar desde la distancia y lo terrible que eran las opciones; No compartí lo bonito que me pareció el fútbol jugado en Brasil por el equipo de Pekerman, y que  genial era sentirse intoxicada de patriotismo y optimismo; No narre las aventuras de J y yo para ser los propietarios de una casita en la esquina en una calle de Portladnd; Y completamente se me paso celebrar que no falto nieto para tener a mi mamá de visita por 3 semanas estrenando el cuarto de huéspedes de dicha casita. Cinco meses...

Ahora viviendo en el presente hoy fue ese único día que en estos cinco meses me siento frente al teclado a escribir lo que dice la cosa en mi cabeza. Me prometo no será la última y quizás ustedes me puedan ayudar, de cual cinco les gustaría que hablara primero? Tal vez les haga caso.


Popular posts from this blog

What we started a drunken night out

I met Justin in Medellin in May 2007, while he was traveling around Colombia before moving to D.C to attend school. He visited Bogotá and the coffee country before arriving in Medellin, where he stayed at a hostel where one of my best friends, and occasional I, used to work. While I waited for my friend to finish her shift before going out, I saw him first and everything about him grabbed my attention. I remember asking my friend who he was but she was in a bad mood and wanted only to go out and dance the day off. I was glad when I saw him again at the bar I was dancing with friends. Yes, he was good looking and a good dancer but there was something else that made my eyes glued onto him. It was kind of embarrassing— it’s not the Latina seductive style to stare— but I couldn’t stop. Anyway, I’m not really a shy person so, in the end, it didn’t matter that much. Eventually, we found ourselves dancing with each other, pretended to talk and kissed.

We run into each other again the next nig…

In the Land of Freedom

Since the arrival of the first European immigrants to North American the country known today as: The United States of America started to be built on immigrant blood.From mass immigration though Ellis Island, New York, in the early 1900’s to crossing the border walking the deserts of Texas or Arizona today, the idea of America as the land of freedom, where the sky is the limit, has attracted and continues attracting immigrants around the globe. For many years, in order to control the unstoppable immigration; which has apparently transformed into a problem, thought the years different immigration polices and strategies has been used being Secure Communities being one of the most recent.Although Secure Communities has effectively deported dangerous criminals, the program should not be enforced nationwide as a federal law because it breaks apart American families while reducing the cooperation between illegal immigrant communities and local police.After the attacks on September 11th the D…

The first of many

When I was 14 years old I was ready to start to work. According to the Colombian law I was not allow to work with out my parents permission. My dad was against that idea, so I have to wait while felling jealous of my brother Agustin, whom just 2 years older than me, was working at my dad's uncle electric store during the holidays, making money.
As soon I turned 18 I stared the job search. After sending a couple of resumes with the blank spaces where my experience should go, I got finally hired at a restaurant. I was thrill, the time of make my own money and grow independent have finally come!. The restaurant, "La Parrilla de Martin", was an Argentinean style stake house just a couple of blocks away from my house and in the same bus route from my college. I set out my schedule: I will work 3 lunches and 2 nights, for a total of 5 shifts a week. 5 shifts a week and full time school didn't sounded that hard for the 18 year old me, but in reality it was impossible.