Good-bye 2008

You know how they always say that sequels are never good? Well, I have been living my own private version of “Ruptured Ovarian Cyst - 2” and, believe me, it has been just as watching a bad movie twice: very painful and never-ending.

But I am not allowing this to stop me from writing a wrap-up of the main events of 2008. No, I won’t go into the ‘Obama-Beijing Olympics-Credit Crunch’ review. Too many people are already writing and talking about this today. I am going a bit more personal.

For me, this year meant embracing technology further in my own life. I have allowed it to bring me closer to friends I had lost touch with from all over the world. If I want to know how my friend living in Canada is doing today I just have to check his Facebook status … if I am curious to know how my friend in Australia is doing professionally I just click on the LinkedIn update notification in my inbox.

I have allowed myself to share in a way I never did before. Not an avid e-mailer, I now know that I can ‘shout’ my thoughts to the world by writing this blog instead of writing individually to everyone I care for.

I have come to realize even more that the world is getting smaller; that there is no need to invent the wheel anymore; that the world is full of ‘copy/paste’ ideas, cloned and adapted to different cultures somehow, but cloned after all.

Just take a look at this video to see what I mean. It is absolutely hilarious! You have a Bulgarian woman who turns Air Supply’s (or later Mariah Carey’s) “Without You” into something she calls “Ken Lee”. If this is not proof that the world is getting smaller, I don’t know what it is.

I leave you with this thought … until 2009.

¡Feliz Navidad al estilo de los 80s!

Mañana es Navidad y que me topo con un video Navideño de los 80s que me tiene en el suelo de la risa. Nunca lo había visto, pues parece ser que fue filmado en la Navidad de 1987 – unos meses después de que me fuí de México a estudiar mi carrera.

Por favor chequen los pantalones de Mijares ... las greñas de las de Flans (¡ni se diga las de Amanda Miguel y su gorrito!) y las mega-hombrereras de las Timbirichas. Es un verdadero homenaje a los 80s, y aunque la calidad del video es muy mala y la verdad es que yo nunca habia oído la canción - que es de lo mas cursi del mundo - espero lo disfruten y los haga sonreir muy Navideñamente.

“!Repiiiiican laaaas campaaaanas ...!”

When the expert becomes a victim

If you are a dentist and have a cavity – do you take the rotten tooth out yourself? If you are a lawyer and get into trouble with the law – do you defend yourself? If you are an anti-kidnapping expert and get abducted – what do you do? Negotiate your own release?

American-Cuban security consultant Felix Batista spent some time last week in the northern Mexican city of Saltillo, in the state of Coahuila, giving talks to the state police on public security. That’s, after all, what he does for a living. But, he is now missing himself; allegedly the victim of a kidnap by a drug gang wanting to show their power.

Batista has played a key role in negotiations of around 90 kidnap cases in Latin America. I’ve read reports that he almost ‘voluntarily” got into the van that the kidnappers used to take him away. He was not negotiating any kidnap case at the time and no ransom has been demanded since.

So what is really going on? At this moment, only the kidnappers and Batista himself know the answer. Let’s hope that he practices as he preaches and manages to get himself out of this one. If he does, I cannot think of a better PR tool for his consultancy career.

If he doesn’t, this will be yet another sad reminder that things in Mexico are not anymore what they used to be. And that those who have the power today are not the ones that are supposed to have it.

Unfortunately.

Of flying shoes

Footage of George W. Bush successfully ducking a couple of flying shoes during a press conference in Baghdad is making the headlines these days, and the media cannot stop talking about W’s incredibly quick reflexes and wondering how on Earth did the Iraqi journalist got away with throwing the second shoe.

Maybe the same way that the second plane managed to hit the WTC on 9/11? … or the same way that OJ Simpson got away with murder? … or just like Elizabeth Taylor managed to marry her 8th husband?

I am surprised though, that I have not read yet any speculation on the possible consequences of this incident. I mean, if the ‘authorities’ banned us from flying with a bottle of Evian after they found the London liquid-bombers, and make us spend hours queuing at airports for ‘security reasons’, will the Department of Homeland Security now ban shoes at press conferences altogether?

Maybe it's time to open a sock shop!

The death of an ex-president

Schools will be closed tomorrow in Cyprus because an ex-president passed away on Friday - and it seems that I am the only one around here confused with this decision.

I understand the need to mourn the passing of someone who has been an important political figure for five decades. Tassos Papadopoulos, who was president of Cyprus between 2003 and early 2008, played a role in the politics of the island over a long time. He was first appointed a Minister at the age of 25, and this is truly commendable.

But to go as far a calling three days of mourning and Monday a Public Holiday for someone who has not been the president for almost a year is, I believe, a bit too much.

If Carlos Salinas de Gortari died tomorrow, would schools in Mexico close for the day?

If George W. Bush passes away sometime next year, will lessons be cancelled in the USA?

The answer to both is maybe a yes, but for a totally different reason!

Vote for my website!

As I wrote a few weeks ago, I decided to stop moaning about the fact that I am turning 40 very soon and decided to put my thoughts on the subject into a website. (I confess that I am still whining occasionally, though!)

My idea is to slowly create a useful source of information for women in their 40s, hence I called it forty-something.com.

Earlier today, while checking the site's traffic statistics, I realised that there has been an unusually high number of hits since yesterday. First thought is that the server was being hacked. But when I checked the referrals, I happily realised that the reason for so many visits is that the website has been nominated a finalist on the "Best of Synthasite" competition (Synthasite is a great tool I used to build the website.)

So, if you have 5 minutes, please go to: http://bestof.synthasite.com/personal-websites.php and vote for http://www.forty-something.com/

If not for me, do it for all the 40-somethings you know out there!

When the police should know better

I am not surprised at all with the events in Greece this week. The reaction to the brutal killing of a teenager by the police has grown to the point of demonstrators inspiring the Unions to call a national strike that is halting the entire country. This might be seen as a ‘bit too much’ by some, but I believe it simply shows that Greeks have just had enough. Enough of paying more and making less than in most other EU countries. Enough of having citizens abused by those who are supposed to protect them.

While there are lots of brutal things happening in this world these days and thousands of kids dying everyday to unfair reasons, the fact is that few people do something about it, which means that the authorities can get away with just about anything.

Having lived in Cyprus, surrounded by the Greek culture for many years, I have to say that I feel pretty much the same frustration as all those rioting in Athens, Thessaloniki, and other Greek cities.

I’ve seen videos of youngsters beaten up by Cypriot policemen. I’ve seen drunken policemen in uniform. I know a woman who reported her neighbor to the ‘confidential’ police number for drug use, just to learn a few days later that a policeman tipped the drug abuser about it – she had to move to another city following the threats she received from her neighbor as a result.

I sometimes wonder if this is really what Third World countries look up to when they want to become more like a "European Union member nation".

Because they already look pretty much the same to me.

Happy 40 to a good friend!

My school friends are turning 40 and I am sincerely happy when this happens... though it reminds me that I am next! Happy Birthday H - have a blast!

The age of ‘never’

So I find this tea that claims being great help for a good night sleep. Not that I have a particular problem in that department, but the combo of linden flower (tila), chamomile and orange makes me think that it could help me relax – which is something I haven’t been lately.

I take a large cup, go to bed and fall into a deep sleep … so deep that I do not move all night and end up waking up totally relaxed but with a stiff neck! No, really!

And all I can blame it on is age. Yes, I am about to hit forty and I keep finding myself thinking all the time: “this never happened to me before…”, “so and so is something I never felt in the past…”, “I’ve never suffered this type of pain in my life …”.

This is why I say that I am reaching the “age of never”.

Forty is not old (if you are a tree!), but let’s accept that even when we still look and feel great this does not mean that our bodies are not changing (a nice way to say "aging".) Because they are!

So, this is my suggestion: let’s keep looking and feeling great, and next time something hurts in a way we never felt before, we can just take some of that wonderful tea, chill out and forget the thought.

Is France a country …?

No, no, no, I did not say this! I am just repeating what some dumb blonde said during an American TV show last year. If you saw the clip, I am certain that you remember this one – it is hard to forget! If you did not, I give you here 3 full minutes of absolute dumbness, where you won’t know whether to laugh or cry.



Just hope that the next US Secretary of State knows the answer despite being a blonde herself.

Disturbing news

What happened in Mumbai this week is truly disturbing. While it is a fact that in other parts of the world higher numbers die daily due to disease, war or famine; when almost 200 lives are lost in the hands of crazy men who don’t even make their cause clear, it is impossible not to feel perplexed.

BBC is calling them ‘celebrity terrorists’. These madmen managed to monopolise worldwide media attention by setting luxury hotels and tourist spots on fire and by singling out victims according to their passport. Incredibly enough, these terrorists were doing nothing to hide their identities. It’s almost as if they did it all for their 5 minutes of fame.

They obviously got more than that, plus loads of media speculation on why they did it. Speculation has been driving this news. It is almost as if the terrorists committed such a horrendous act to allow the world to make up the story behind it depending on what suits each of us best.

And this, unfortunately, sounds terribly familiar.

A princess view on 40

Back in the 1950s a beautiful and talented American 27 year-old actress married a European Royal Prince and became Her Highness The Princess of Monaco.

We all know the fairy-tale story of Grace Kelly and how her glamorous life had a tragic ending; but few know that apparently she lived ‘torture’ about 12 years before she died. That is, when she turned 40.

For a woman, forty is torture, the end.

This is what the famous princess apparently said at some point around the time she blew 40 candles on her birthday cake… and that was in 1969 … the year I was born … 40 years ago!

So I bump into this quote at a time when I have been writing my thoughts on turning 40, and when I have even created a website for forty-something women to pour all my energy on this subject into something positive.

But torture, believe me, is not a positive thought.

Once upon a time ...

One day, long, long ago there was a woman who did not whine, nag or bitch.



But this was a very long time ago ... and it was just that one day.

The End

¡No seas cascarrabias!

Así le dije a mi hija el otro día, y se me quedó viendo con cara de “WHAT?!” ¿Y es que como explicarle sobre la cueva de las orquídeas susurrantes, la llave de cristal, el pobre dragón mejor conocido como ‘la torpe sabandija alérgica’ al que ese enano pelirrojo y bigotón siempre le gritaba: “¡Atrápalos dragón, es una orden!”?

Terry, Bip y la Princesa Amanecer siempre huyendo y visitando lugares exóticos - y Cascarrabias insistiendo siempre en quererlos convertir en picadillo.

Un gruñón hecho y derecho. Que junto con Gargamel de los Pitufos y el Eco-Loco de Odisea Burbujas fueron para muchos de nosotros los primeros malvados enojones de los que tenemos recuerdo.

¿A poco no?

Forty-something dot com

I am very excited with my latest online project: www.forty-something.com. I decided to stop moaning about turning 40 and put my thoughts to some good use by creating a website dedicated to all 40-something women out there.

This is a live project, so what you find now on the site is just the beginning of what I hope will become a complete source of information and articles covering everything that is interesting for a woman in her 40s: beauty, fashion, health, jobs, romance, shopping, etc.

There is little out there that targets women by age, so this should be an interesting project with - hopefully - good potential.

The site includes a shopping section with gift ideas and more.

Take a look and let me know what you think!

Don't bully me just because I am young

Do you remember when the older kids at school used to bully the younger ones because they were … well, younger and inexperienced? And isn’t it something that the pattern keeps repeating itself even as we grow ‘older and wiser’?

I have to confess that I’ve found myself a few times thinking that nobody under 30 would be able to do my job as good as me, simply because I’ve been doing it longer. And that’s a fallacy. A myth that if we all truly believed and followed would probably bring disastrous results in all domains. Doing something longer does NOT necessarily mean doing it BETTER.

And that brings me to the mantra that McCain chanted during his whole campaign and that many Republicans keep singing: 'Obama is inexperienced'. Why? Because he is much younger than McCain and as a result he’s been in politics for fewer years?

Obama will be president of the USA at age 47. But, the other two North American leaders were also elected to their posts in their 40s: Stephen Harper of Canada at 46 and Felipe Calderon of Mexico at 44. And it’s not as if Angela Merkel or Gordon Brown are that far behind having been elected to office in their early 50s.

Are they really too young? Sorry, but compared to McCain EVERYBODY is too young!

American author Kurt Vonnegut once said on aging:

True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country.

So my message to my childhood friends is simple: stay away from politics and let’s remain friends forever!

The new job market

Not much to say on this one ... When a black man with roots in Africa can become the president of the USA, it is a clear sign that times are changing and absolutely everything is possible! So what makes us laugh today could very well be our reality tomorrow.

Enjoy the video and consider changing your brand new saloon for a pick-up truck and that Armani suit for flannels!

Gracias a Griselda por compartir.

The guy who got away with murder

Can you imagine a man who already had six wives by the time he reached his early 50s? What if I told you that this guy actually had two of them killed and got away with it? And not only that, but this bloke managed to change the official religion of his country so that he could divorce his first wife.

If you are Mexican, you probably think this is a good plot for a telenovela … if you are American you might be wondering if this is what the next season of ‘24’ will be all about … if you are British, you better know who I am talking about!

Henry VIII was king of England back in the early 1500’s and was quite a character. I seriously don’t want to bore you with a history lesson; it’s just that I was wondering if a country’s ruler would be able to get away with so much these days …

Let’s pretend that a mainly Catholic country – Mexico for argument’s sake – had a king and not a president. Let’s call him Enrique, which is Henry in Spanish.

Well, Enrique decides that his wife of 24 years, Caterina, is not good enough because she has not given him an heir and wants to divorce her and marry his wife’s maid: Anita. Now, the obstacle here is that they are Catholic, right? So, he goes to Benedict XVI and asks for an annulment of his marriage and the Pope says ‘nein’. So Enriquito, decides then and there to make Mexico a Protestant country, and calls himself head of the Church of Mexico.

He marries Anita just to get bored of her three years later and puts his eyes on Anita’s maid, Juanita (told you – soap opera material). So he accuses Anita of links with a drug cartel (actually he accused her of witchcraft, but this is the 2008 version after all), has her beheaded (ouch!) and 24hrs later marries Juanita. Juanita dies while giving birth to a son within the year; so Quique (short for Enrique) goes to a dating site online and finds a German gal called Anita (yes, he also had a thing for Anas and Caterinas).

But when he sees Anita the German in person, he realizes that the photo she used on her profile is much better than the real thing. He marries her, but divorces her 6 months later to tie the knot with 19 year-old Caterina. Quique is already 49 by now, so Caterinita starts having fun with some younger boyfriends around the palace making her hubby jealous. Good’ol Quique does what he does best and has her beheaded.

That same year he marries yet another Caterina who looks after him in his old age – yes, 50 is old age – until he dies 4 years later.

I learned all this gossip while helping my daughter revise for a history test. No wonder she keeps telling me that she loves history!

Mathemagic

Math is one of those subjects that most students have a love or hate relationship with. If you hated it you at school chances are that nowadays you make a living as a lawyer or maybe a historian. If you loved it, there is a good possibility that you became an engineer of some sort or probably an actuary.

But even if you loved the subject to pieces, I doubt it if you would have ever thought of becoming a “mathemagician”. I’d never met one before. That is until this morning when I came across Arthur Benjamin. Not the man himself, but a video of one of his shows. And let me tell you that the guy is quite amazing!

And since this morning I cannot stop to wonder: if he is that good with numbers …maybe he could do a little trick with my age?

De elecciones y catafixias

Estas elecciones en Estados Unidos me recuerdan al programa de Chabelo: Comenzaron demasiado temprano; estuvieron llenas de juegos, mañas y sorpresas; hasta las mamás jugaron y el final se decidirá en las catafixias.

A poco no? La diferencia es que son millones de jugadores los que pasaron a las catafixias y solamente tienen dos en lugar de tres puertas a escoger, y de paso nos tienen a billones de espectadores en ascuas esperando a ver si se deciden por la puerta correcta!

Es algo asi como que cada gringo con derecho al voto ya se sacó una "dotación completa de productos Marinela" – es decir, un montón de basura que ha sido azucarada y empaquetada para que se crean que es “good for them”.

Detras de la Puerta #1 se encuentra una “fabulosa dotación completa de productos Ricolino”, en pocas palabras: más de lo mismo!

Pero tras la Puerta #2 hay nada más y nada menos .... señoras y señores ... niñas y niños .... chan-chan-chan-chan-le-che-con-pan: una flamante sala - comedor de Muebles Troncoso!!!!!

Si, lo sé, la verdad es que a mi también me gustaría mas que hubiera una flamante bicicleta y la colección completa de juguetes Mi Alegría ... pero, hay que ser realistas ... esperemos que el resultado de estas elecciones mejore la situación, no que Obama haga milagros!

Y mientras esperamos ansiosos el resultado de las elecciones, los dejo con otro recuerdito del pasado dedicado a aquellos que, como yo, se despertaban tarde los domingos!

40 is the new 30 ... but it's not!

Since I started writing about my thoughts on turning 40 many friends came back to tell me that “40 is the new 30”. Problem is, I am not really sure how that one actually works.

Does it mean that when you turn 40 a whole decade just wipes out and we are magically 30 again? Or does it mean that nowadays, 40-somethings look just like 30-somethings?

The first theory is that the 20s actually blend in to the 30s and by the time we are 40 is like we are actually 30 again! Got it? I didn’t think so.

So, if 40 is the new 30, what happens to our 30s? Well, we would have to make them disappear! Yes, David Copperfield style.

Think about it. All the things you would erase from your life:

Some would skip getting married – and would still be single.
Many of us would miss our kids early years – but also the struggles of getting / being pregnant.
Others would skip painful divorce procedures – and would still be married to that same person. (ouch!)
Our CVs would be at least ½ a page shorter – many guys’ hair at least 5cm longer!

For those of us turning 40 these days we would also skip the entire presidency of George Bush, 9-11, the birth of Google, the Blackberry and eBay, and the introduction of the Euro.

Would erasing all these things from our lives make us 30? Really? No, I think it would make us a whole bunch of 40-somethings with 10 years of missed experiences, some good, some bad, but experiences that shape who we are after all.

So I vote for the second assumption. Most of my friends and I keep telling ourselves that we look and feel much better now than we did in our 20s (especially early 20s!) and we definitely don’t fit the image we had when we were kids of people in their 40s. Back then people in their 40s dressed and acted like … well, I guess people their age!

So I insist that being 40 is not the same as being “40 minus 10 = 30” but I should love being 40 because I know better than a 30 year old and still look as good.

Day of the Death: una ofrenda virtual para Little Johnny

Traditionally, Mexicans are not afraid of death – we actually are great at making fun of it. Every 1st and 2nd of November, cemeteries around the country are full of people celebrating with their loved ones, alive and not, el Dia de los Muertos or the "Day of the Dead." The deceased receive orange flowers, their favorite foods and drinks and many times are even serenaded by a mariachi band playing the tunes they loved when they were alive.

This celebration has nothing to do with Halloween, which is a holiday imported from the USA and that conveniently falls one day earlier, giving everybody a good excuse to party for three days in a row.

So in this year of nostalgia, I decided to follow one of the traditions of the day and build up an altar for Little Johnny.

Great idea - in theory. It’s not like I can walk into a shop in Nicosia and buy calaveritas de azucar (sugar skulls) which are a MUST in every "Day of the Death" altar. Also, Little Johnny was quite fond of antiques, antique cars and Hershey's bars, and since I am supposed to put all his favorite things on the altar so that his spirit can come to enjoy them, I was faced with quite a dilemma. There is not even one toy car in my house, and the only chocolate I found were some rather stale Easter chocolate eggs at the bottom of my fridge.

Then I thought that these days pretty much everything we do is online so I thought it would be OK to make a Google Images Altar! Yes, I simply had to google “Dodge 1939”, “Ford 1928”, “Hershey’s chocolate bar”, “gramophone” and “calvera de azucar” and in less than 30 seconds I had everything I needed.

All I had to add were a few candles I have always ready for that really long bath I can never take due to the water cuts, a papier mache papaya (always had some for breakfast), a bottle of wine (he was a wine club member), some books, and, voila!

Just hope he is not too disappointed if his spirit decides to actually fly all the way from Mexico City to have a go with the real things.

Maybe I should add some more Oreo cookies just in case…

40 is not 50

I am still trying to find the positive side of being 40. As I mentioned earlier, with a bit over two months to go till the dreaded day I am trying to convince myself that there must be a lengthy list of things I should love about reaching this milestone.

Trying to find some stimulation from those who’ve "been there - done that", I bumped into something Victor Hugo (yes, the French poet) wrote once upon a time:

“Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age”

I have a bit of a problem with this quote. First, he mentions the phrase "old age" not once but TWICE in a sentence of only 13 words. OK, to be fair, he also mentions the word "youth" twice, but that’s not the point: by the time you read that forty has something to do with "old age" everything else becomes a blur!

Then, he does not give me anything to look forward to. Being the oldest of the young is pretty much the same as telling me I am the thinnest of the fat or the smartest of the dumb and that I will eventually become the fattest of the thin and the dumbest of the smart!

Even worse, it makes me start thinking that turning 50 is only a decade away! And 10 years is nothing – I know it, believe me, I am still recovering from the hangover of the big bash I threw when I turned 30.

Fifty is the “youth of old age”. That’s it. You reach 50 and you are doomed. Even a poet with all the inspiration that Victor Hugo obviously had, could not come with a better way to put it.

So the only positive thought I have from all this is that: I should love being 40 because I am NOT 50 yet!

And 40 is not 30 either ... more on that coming soon.

80 to 40

The final countdown started yesterday. Eighty days left until I finally turn 40. And NO, I am not taking it that well … in fact; the thought has been bothering me a lot since my last birthday.

You know, when you are 38 you are still a 30-something (and I've enjoyed my 30s so much!). When you turn 39 you are nowhere - too close to 40 and so far away from 30! It’s like living in limbo for 12 months …

Since moaning about it is not going to change anything (other than possibly adding a few more crow's feet to the collection), I’ve decided to dedicate a few of my future blog posts to the reasons why I should LOVE being in my 40s. Maybe I will manage to convince myself that it is not so bad after all and will hopefully end up self-brainwashed and hoping that I stay a 40something forever.

I should love being 40 because they say that life begins at 40.

It was some guy called Walter B. Pitkin who claimed this on a book he published back in 1932. The guy was 54 at the time, so I assume that 14 years of experience on being 40+ qualifies him as a guru on the subject.

I have not read the book, but if Mr. Pitkin was still alive, which he is not, I would love to ask him in a very Mafaldesque way:

If life really begins at 40, then why are we brought to this world so early?

In essence

Back in the 80s I read a book that made quite an impression on me. It has now been adapted into a movie which I watched for the first time a couple of nights ago and, although I believe that a good book can never be matched by the film, this particular one was exceptionally good: “Perfume: The Story of a Murderer”. The book is by German writer Patrick Suskind.

Because this is a book (and a movie) I like to recommend, I am not going to spoil it by writing here about the plot. I just want to focus on one part of the story which I like very much.

In the beginning of the story, the hero – a young boy called Jean-Baptiste - approaches a Perfumer to work with him making perfumes (what else?!). The Perfumer is a true alchemist, a perfectionist of the profession. He measures every essence with precision before mixing it and the way he approaches perfume-making is closer to art than to trade. Jean-Baptiste is incredibly gifted and can produce the most amazing perfumes by simply throwing all the scents together in a flask, without measuring anything at all and without even knowing the names of any of the ingredients he uses.

The Perfumer is an academic. Jean-Baptiste is street-smart -- the type of guy who follows his instincts and his nose (literally!) to accomplish much better things than the Master. The Master even ends up asking Jean-Baptiste for his recipes!

And what I like about this part of the story is that it reminds us that whatever we do in our lives -- from work to relationships to hobbies to everything else -- theory might make things work, but what we can add to it from our own character and experience is what makes the real difference between achieving ordinary and an extraordinary results.
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Vegetable cruelty

It is amazing how much the advertising industry has changed over the last 30 years - or has it? In Mexico, we grew up watching a man with the largest nose I've ever seen saying "Chaca-chaca con Ariel" while announcing the latest craze in washing powder; a duckling (which happened to look a lot like a chicken) asking us to always remember it and the "Gansito" it promoted; and a cartoon character called "Pancho Pantera" telling us that chocolate milk is good for you if you want to score a lot of goals at football.

There is one TV commercial in particular that I am positive has stayed in the collective mind of most Mexicans my age throughout the years. But it is extremely cruel -- even if it is only about tomato puree! The poor little tomatoes are the victims of a mean executioner who wants to make them puree. Literally. And they are actually happy about it.

I have the feeling that this ad would not make it to the TV screens these days. I bet there must be some vegetable anti-cruelty society that would organize a few demonstrations downtown Mexico City to protest against so deplorable behavior!

To date, the song on this commercial always pops into my head when I hear someone saying the word "tomatito" (small tomato) and I've always wondered if the salespitch voiceover at the end is the nasty executioner himself.

Mixing fashion and politics

I’m having some fun reading the reviews in the international press about Sarah Palin’s $150,000 wardrobe makeover.

Interesting - the woman makes $125,000 a year as governor of Alaska and her party splurges more than that on clothing, hairstyling and makeup so that she can look vice-presidential.

Editors right and left are writing all sorts of colorful comments asking how is it possible that she can spend $75k on GFF and Ann Klein’s suits at Neiman Marcus and almost $50k at Saks Fifth Avenue on a one-day shopping spree in the middle of a worldwide financial crisis (I certainly would if I had that kind of money!)

Her beautifying budget adds up to more than double the average gringo’s household yearly income – ouch!

But what nobody is paying attention to is the comment made by McCain’s spokeswoman on the subject:

"It was always the intent that the clothing go to a charitable purpose after the campaign."

Does this mean that if the McCain-Palin combo wins the ticket to the White House (God help us!) she will go back to wearing her pre-campaigning Wal-Mart’s clothes? Unlikely.

Maybe it’s just that the McCain camp already unconsciously accepted defeat and know that she won’t be needing her new fancy wardrobe after November 4 as she will be heading back to goodol’ Alaska.

Anybody knows how to go about registering myself as a charity?
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Of tall men

There are quite a few tall men that have played some role or the other in my life. The first and probably most influential has to be my father. At 1.93m tall, my friends used to (and still do) refer to him as "Little Johnny", though I cannot really remember if they ever called him that to his face!

My maternal grandfather, a Clark Gable look-alike, was also a very tall (and good-looking) man. There have been a couple of other tall men, but I won't write about them today because I am totally focused on the one that is patiently sitting on the side of my bed waiting for me since he arrived to my place last Monday.

Truth is (there you go), what is waiting for me is not the real guy, but his most recent book. He is tall and handsome in an ugly sort of way (or is it the other way around?), totally rude, and the owner of the crudest British humor. But truth is (there you go again) that I am totally infatuated with him. I am talking about Jeremy Clarkson, of course - who else?

Pause to allow those who hate him to leave the blog -- probably for good!

For those who don't know who he is, Clarkson is the 'love me' or 'hate me' type of personality. I obviously belong to the first group. I won't go into what I believe he does well or not on his BBC show; but his writing is witty to the point of managing to keep my unconditional interest from cover to cover even when he publishes a book about cars and nothing else. And that is what I call VERY sexy.

So at the moment I am keeping the latest "The World According to Clarkson" installment waiting for me while I finish a really interesting novel by some Indian author.

But that's OK; I read somewhere that it's good to keep the 'bad boys' waiting a bit before a big date.
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The scary 80s

So after seeing some old photos I sent to my friends in Mexico, my daughter decides that she wants to dress up as an "80s girl" for Halloween.

Without thinking it twice I go to eBay and search for an "80s fancy dress". Not much to be found, other than a 'sexy Ghostbusters' outfit (not really suitable for a 10 year old) and a couple of Madonna-like wigs. It's like no fancy dress supplier on Earth has realized yet that the combo of big hair + shoulder pads + leg warmers and plastic earrings deserves its very own Halloween-80s outfit!

So I put the outfit together myself. Sadly enough, I got rid of my ENTIRE drawer of shoulder pads, and do not own one single leg warmer or at least one t-shirt with neon wording on it.

I e-buy a FRANKIE SAYS RELAX bright pink t-shirt to which I will attach some shoulder pads I still need to find; a black polka dot ra-ra skirt; neon green leg warmers and matching perforated gloves (never wore any of those but they are so kitsch I had to buy them); yellow plastic belt and of course very large plastic earrings on lemon yellow color.

It seems that the only 80s thing that survived all my moving around the world was a pair of bright blue aerobics leggins and some hideous blue eyeliner & eyeshadow and white lipstick (don't ask!!)... so it's all been thrown into the outfit.

She wants to wear vampire teeth on the day, but I think that once she sees herself on the mirror after the make over she will realize that she looks scary enough!

Pics in due time...
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I don't work for Coke

This post is mainly for those of you who don't speak Spanish and wonder what's with the You Tube video on the sidebar of the blog and on my first post (same song, two different versions)...

First of all, no, I don't work for Coke. Never have. Most probably never will. But I have to confess that I have recently become addicted to Coke Zero. I was a big time Diet Coke drinker when I was at college ... the one thing that would keep me awake other than coffee! and managed to get rid of the bad habit until a few months ago ... that is until I started working late nights again.

OK, back to the subject... The reason for posting these videos is that the words in Spanish go something on the line of "you've gotta share (hay que compartir).... the happy moment (el momento feliz) ...." and that's where the name of my blog came from "Hay que compartir" or roughly "Gotta share..."

There you go ... no Coke employee, just a Coke drinker that likes a song that played a zillion times on TV when I was a kid.

And you will hear more about that in coming posts!
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Hay que compartir!

De la nada me acorde de la cancion que cantaba Topo Gigio y que va algo asi como "en el Estado de Mexico naci ... yo soy de Zacazonapan donde creci..." y me puse de buenas.

Es increible como en el año (pausa de 2 minutos para ingeniarmelas para poner una ñ) antes de cumplir los 40 la nostalgia o el no se que ma ha acercado de nuevo a amigos del pasado. Nostalgia (para los mayores de 30) es el otro nombre de Facebook.

Y sin mas ni mas se me ocurrio compartir. Compartir todo (bueno casi) lo que vivo y vivi en los ultimos 20+ que he estado fuera y todo lo demas que se me ocurra.

Las ideas me van y me vienen. Generalmente en ingles, asi que no me sorprendera que esto salga como una super spanglish ensalada a la que no le faltara el Fetta y Halloumi de vez en cuando. Que raro no? Mi asociacion de palabras con Grecia y Chipre tienen ambas que ver con queso.

Asi que como decia Coca Cola en lo que yo siempre crei fue un comercial de los 80s y ahora que encontre el video en You Tube me di cuenta con horror que fue en los 70s!!! HAY QUE COMPARTIR... con quien se deje!!



Hay dos versiones de este anuncio ... a mi me gusta mas este que es el de Navidad.