City girl goes camping

Camping, such a fun experience after all.
I hadn't been camping ever, not even in my backyard, I kind of always wanted but never had the guts to do it, go to a place without bed and sometimes without bathrooms, whaaaaat? noooooo! jajaja
So I decided to take a Nature class, in which they go camping. It is not a joke at all, but of course it is funny. Me camping? me with nature?
So the first step was taken, but there were many challenges. I had to take photos while hanging with critters, in which I conquer my fear of snakes and hold and anaconda and a python, soooooo coooool!I had to appreciate nature, I got lost while hiking by myself. Got near bear and spiders. And so the time for camping came near, and I was freaking out, I asked for help, and got many advices. But of course I didn't feel ready and I was thinking about baking up, but I was still dragged to camping.
And sooooo:
I helped build the tent I went on hikes, I meditated by the river, slept on a sleeping bag, battled food-stealing-squirrels-and-birds, saw spiders and photographed banana slugs. Cooked by the fire, and made s'mores. I didn't showered, and my hair was a mess. I didn't bring sundresses, make-up or high heels.
It was a great experience and I had so much fun, and yes at the beginning I kind of wanted to go back home, but at the end I lo ve d it, and I am looking forward to the 5 day camping trip. (this was 3 days 2 nights)
So now I can scratch that from my to-do list! and be happy!

ready or not, here we goooo!

The question is not whether camping is ready for me, but am I ready for camping???


City Girl vs. Camping Universe

יזכור יום השואה

"The Butterfly"

The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing
against a white stone. . . .

Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly 'way up high.
It went away I'm sure because it wished to
kiss the world good-bye.

For seven weeks I've lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto.
But I have found what I love here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut branches in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly.

That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don't live in here,
in the ghetto.

-by Pavel Friedman

Pavel Friedman was born on January 7, 1921, in Prague and deported to Terezin on April 26, 1942. He died in Auschwitz on September 29, 1944.

Un continuo re-escribir y escribir sobre eso

Somos similares, somos tan distintos. Quizás somos el uno para el otro, quizás jamás embonaremos juntos.
Sabemos mucho el uno del otro y a la vez sabemos tan poco.


Am I experimenting or experiencing?

Close my eyes and jump!!!

"Some love stories aren't epic novels, some are short stories. But, that doesn't make them any less filled with love."
Carrie Bradshaw

I like him

"Vamos perdiendole el miedo, a lo que pase entre los dos."
Mijares

¿Se repite la historia o yo soy paranoica?

Más y más y más

Hace mucho que no escribo, pero no literal, sino en este blog, pero he seguido escribiendo y photographiando, pero ahora divido mi tiempo entre tres espacios y más, así que aquí están, para que vean y lean, para que sean parte de...

http://violetapalombo.blogspot.com/

http://porunmundosinquejas.blogspot.com/


Así que vean y lean y dejenme saber!

Deepest fear

So one of my deepest fears just came to life. And all I could think of is that I was being paranoid and that it wasn't real. There was rational thinking but I felt paranoid.
The other day after boiling water something in the stove turn off, and so there was a leak of gas. At first I didn't know that it was leaking, but at night that I came back there was a slight smell of gas, and I thought maybe it was just my imagination after my mom commented on the phone something about gas. And I cooked some stuff on the half that could still light up, so I thought it was me, just plain on paranoid. Then I was going to go to sleep, but kept coming back to smell the stove, and I swear I could smell the gas. So I opened all the windows in the small apartment because apparently gas leak is one of my deepest fear, and it is not something that comes out often, but since I moved here, it's been in my head. So I didn't get any sleep all night, and then I was upset all morning. And I didnt know if it was me and being paranoid or if it did smell like it. So after class a friend of mine came to my house to make sure I wasn't being paranoid, and she confirmed my suspicions: there was a gas leak. While freaking out, my landlord got home and save the day. He explain about the pilot and how to fix this problem.
So I learned a lot that day:
1. How to fix the pilot on my stove.
2. Trust my senses.
3. Seek help (ex. gas people, or info.... at the least call mom!)
4. TRUST MY SENSES
I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!
javascript:void(0)
So I survived and learned, cool uh???

So how come I had no idea one of my deepest fears was gas leak?
because it is deepest? haha. yes. no.
When you are afraid of spiders and you see spiders often, it is really easy to realize you are afraid of them. But thankfully gas doesn't leak often, so it is not easy to find out you are afraid of gas leaking....

So safe and sound, I write this, days later from the storm...

Sin planes...

Siempre me ha molestado el tipo de preguntas como ¿A qué te quieres dedicar? ¿Cómo te ves en 1, 2, 5, 10 años? ¿Qué es lo que quieres hacer? etc, etc, etc.
Y es sencillamente porque no tengo la menor idea.
Tengo 24 años y 9 meses; estoy estudiando una segunda carrera; he vivido en distintos países; y no se cómo me veo en 1 año; no tengo ni la menor idea.
No me gusta que me hagan planear, no creo en la realización de los planes; tengo un poco de conflicto con la idea del plan divino, pero no creo que pueda ganarle al destino.
Lo único que se de la vida es que quiero ser una persona feliz; quiero que hasta en mis peores momentos haya sonrisas y fiestas; que después de mis lágrimas venga la calma y una carcajada para olvidarnos de todo; quiero sentir el cosquilleo del aire; y quiero seguir disfrutando de la vida.
No quiero pensar en lo que vendrá, no quiero crear posibles situaciones y preocuparme por enfrentarlas, quiero vivir el día a día, y ver lo que pasa.

Mi plan de vida es ¡SER FELIZ!

Así que no me obliguen a planear porque la frustración no me viene bien. No sé que será de mi vida, no sé qué haré el resto de mis días, pero por hoy seguiré festejando la vida y las alegrías.

Auschwitz

A todos los judíos del mundo,
mis amigos,
mis hermanos.

Estos poetas infernales,
Dante, Blake, Rimbaud
que hablen más bajo...
que toquen más bajo...
¡Que se callen!
Hoy
cualquier habitante de la tierra
sabe mucho más del infierno
que esos tres poetas juntos.
Ya sé que Dante toca muy bien el violín...
¡Oh, el gran virtuoso!
Pero que no pretenda ahora
con sus tercetos maravillosos
y sus endecasílabos perfectos
asustar a ese niño judío
que está ahí, desgajado de sus padres...
Y solo.
¡Solo!
aguardando su turno
en los hornos crematorios de Auschwitz.
Dante... tú bajaste a los infiernos
con Virgilio de la mano
(Virgilio, «gran cicerone»)
y aquello vuestro de la Divina Comedia
fue una aventura divertida
de música y turismo.
Esto es otra cosa... otra cosa...
¿Cómo te explicaré?
¡Si no tienes imaginación!
Tú... no tienes imaginación,
Acuérdate que en tu «Infierno»
no hay un niño siquiera...
Y ese que ves ahí...
está solo
¡Solo! Sin cicerone...
esperando que se abran las puertas de un infierno que tú, ¡pobre florentino!,
no pudiste siquiera imaginar.
Esto es otra cosa... ¿cómo te diré?
¡Mira! Éste es un lugar donde no se puede tocar el violín.
Aquí se rompen las cuerdas de todos los violines del mundo.
¿Me habéis entendido poetas infernales?
Virgilio, Dante, Blake, Rimbaud...
¡Hablad más bajo!
¡Tocad más bajo! ¡Chist!
¡¡Callaos!!
Yo también soy un gran violinista...
y he tocado en el infierno muchas veces...
Pero ahora, aquí...
rompo mi violín... y me callo.

León Felipe

That was not a chick flick...

It is not that I love to watch chick flicks (I do love movies, any kind, so I love chick flicks). But when I go into a movie theater to watch a chick flick, I expect exactly that... a chick flick. Not a sad movie that makes me want to cry through it all, and then at the end they try and fix it with a happy ever after.
I do not like it at all.
I do not want to go into a theater wanting to see a sweet and awwww kind of comedy, and having tears in my eyes, praying to a supreme deity that no one ever has to go live anything like they do in the movie.
When I go into a chick flick, I want to see a romantic and sweet movie with a spoon of laughter, that of course has a happy ending.
So no, I did not like "Life as we know it" and no it is not a chick flick.

Post-Moss era begins...

Brady said. “He did a lot of great things for this team. You know, at the same time, I think coach Belichick feels that that’s what he thinks he needs to do for the team. So we as players, we deal with it and we move on. I think I’ve been around long enough to realize that nothing really surprises me, and the best thing for me to do is be the best quarterback I can be for the team.”

If Brady can deal with it so can I...