How many times have I done this? I can honestly don't remember. *sigh*
Well, I am unemployed, yet again, but this time it had nothing to do with Economics or boredome.
Things at the Hospital, and my office were getting to be too much to take, and working for Satan turned out to be real hell.
I guess our Government work system is not used to having people around who are smart, quick-study and good at what they do, cause apparently it bothers the lazy ones.
I was accused of things I didn't do, and also was personally accused for the way I held myself, my tone of voice, the wrinkles between my eyebrows (totally inherited, you should see my sisters and mother) and even my hair...
I was conditioned to change my attitude, personality and face in the course of one month or I was going to be fired, so I decided to quit. Not because I can't change, but because I was being forced by someone who is so evil, it's not even worth to mention.
Did I make a mistake? Possibly
Do I regret it? Money-wise, yes. Peace of mind-wise? NO.
My job was stressing enough to put some more loads of it that I didn't really needed.
So, I've been home with my morals on the floor for exactly a month.
It's taking me a while to pick up the pieces of me again and glue them back together, but I'll make it. I always do.
Why is it so hard this time? Cause the evil bitch got me. She managed to affect me in a way that no one has affected me before. So for the past month I've been questioning the very core of who I am.
My family pointing out that yes, my attitude sucks, doesn't really help.
At least I have God sent husband, who backs me up 1000% even though some of my decisions are pretty wakky, I have God sent friends, some of them away in Countries I've never set foot on, and some by my side, or over the phone, who have shown major support. 
That sort of helps the fact that my own family doesn't really understand what is living inside of me, and they probably never will.
Oh well, enough of that.
I'm still planning on doing something with my life, and see where it takes me, now with the knowledge that I've made mistakes, and now I know what not to do and not to say, even if my nature tells me to. Shut up nature, the world is not ready for someone like us.
In other news, and trying to do something before going completely insane between this 4 walls, I entered a Baking and cooking course.
Yes, it's time to face my fears, and as I cannot be a Seismologist (cause my fear of earthquakes is beyond any fear anyone can never had, living in the Country with the highest rate of them, and the mythical 9.5 from 1960 and 8.8 of 2010), or an Entomologyst (mainly because i fear the spiders), I decided I could try and learn how to bake things, create desserts and work with chocolate, cause I am deathly afraid of cooking.
Yes, I am.
I do it, cause well.. I gotta eat. But beside rice, spaghetti and the regular steak and salads, my skills at cooking are the same as my skills in math.. less than zero.
So, through my brother in law, who work in a company that pffers courses for housewifes with Government sponsoring, got me this one.
It was actually pretty cool. And I found out, I am good at this stuff.
I did lots of things, I wasn't alone doing them though, but I made friends, people actually liked me (and they didn't know I was related to the person who was the supervisor), and I made some new friends.
And it was easy.. and also, it was healthy. Yes, you can bake and create goodies with lots of stuff, but half the calories and half the sugar.
I got a great evaluation, and even though the course is over, and i miss it, graduation will be I think Dec. 14th, where i'll get a certification that I can do stuff, approved by the Government. And also, I got paid, not much, but hey! I'm broke, so whatever money I can get is good money.
But..
Fo the past week or so, I've had the intentiopn of baking x-mas cookies, and I am scared shitless.
Why? Because I'm in a vulnerable state and I have no confidence, even though the voice of my teacher in my head keeps saying *Everthing is fixable in the kitchen*.. I still don't find the courage to do it. And I want to, cause, as my bro-in-law got me the gig, and he likes to eat, inspite the gastric bypass he got last year, and despite the fact that he is married to my sister who is the fail-diet queen, i wanna do something nice to say *Thanks!*
So, I set the gold for tomorrow. I have all the ingredients. I even bought coloring food liquid to create my own colorful icing, I bought cookie cutters in the cutests of shapes.. (I'm scared of myself).. so tomorrow, among all the procrastination i have in my agenda, I'll be baking.. God help me.

woke up on the intolerant side of the bed this morning.
Being a pedestrian sucks, and as long as i don't have enough money to buy a car, i think there are a few rules people must follow to make my life easier early in the morning, and late in the afternoons, so i don't go all ballistic and violent against you. Trust me, it's for your own good. I don't like hitting ppl, but if you give me a reason, i will.

First off. Women with babies, baby carriages, bags and all the crap they carry around. Ahem, I'm not a mother, but i am a woman. We're in times were things can be simplified, and you can make your life easier. So don't think, just because you're carrying a baby, people immediately will give you the seat in the bus or the subway. You wanted women's liberation, you don't want to be treated like and invalid, yet, a baby makes you act like one. You don't need all the crap around, and you don't need to push the rest of us to the back or front just because you don't decide whether you want the baby in the seat or the cart. If you don't have a car and i guess you don't (reason why you ride the subway) you don't friggin' need a car seat for the baby!! Whoever gave you that shit in the lame baby shower you had shouldn't be call your friend, unless it was a present out of the Sarcasm society.
And don't get all *oh you don't know what it's like to have a baby* just because i don't have one. I know how to simplify, and I have a very good imagination. Plus, I did raise a niece and two nephews, I know what it's like to carry babies around, so don't scold me, it won't do anything to me, besides get you bitter.

Young Couples: Guys, please. If your girlfriend still thinks she needs to follow the lines on the pavement to keep walking straight, please, hold her by the hand, and lead her on the right direction. I don't need to be stuck behind you, just because *barbie doll* with no brain doesn't know how to walk. She could be really good in the sack, but if she doesn't know how to walk properly on the street, i'll dump her. You praise yourselves of being so smart, and the rulers of the world? Please, make the right choice, get a woman who can multitask, and i mean walk and breathe at the same time, so she won't get either cianotic or as a rug on the floor, ok?
And yes, I do appreciate the love you have for each other. I feel the same way, I even smile when I see you kiss and be tender around each other, but please, if you need to exchange saliva, don't do it in the middle of the street where peple are trying to walk, and you don't need to show your love to the world at the beginning and end of the stairs.


I'll be back with more of my rules in a while....

not many ppl know of this movie, and it's soooo bad, it's actually good. Has Barbara Hale on it (she's the one on my avatar).

THE GIANT SPIDER INVASION!!!

That is all.

this Sunday is Mother's day.
I don't have a mother...never really had.
True, I was born *from* somebody, it's not like i was put here by aliens, like the chupacabra, inspite of what some ppl might think.
And yet, I never knew that somebody. Yes, I have pictures of her, I've seen her before. But if it weren't for those photos, believe me, I wouldn't know who she is.
All I honestly remember is her smell... her skin smell. Funny because is the same smell I have, and my sister Monica too. Though they claim I'm the one who resembles her more.
I should be flattered, and I'm not. I'm not offended either, it's just the fact that, when you resemble somebody who you don't know, it's just odd.
So, my reaction to Mother's day it's sarcastic right now.
People are usually bother by my comments, but it took me a whole lotta years to react in a way that doesn't hurt me, that doesn't bring back those awful childhood memories.
Sarcasm is the way I find to make peace with the past, and have a funnier future.

When I was little, Mother's day was stressing.
First of all, because, growing up in a tight, amish-without-the-funny-hats-or-funny language-scared-of-the-devil type community, my Mother and my whole familywere well-known. Mainly because my mother was a Paramedic, so she was always around when somebody was sick, at the Hospital or whatever, so, when she died I was her orphan, the one ppl thought I was gonna follow steps, and also, the poor little 5 year old who lost her mother.
And the one who, according to her teachers and aunts, had now two new mothers in my sisters.
If they only knew they hated my guts, and blamed me for Mother's death (cause she got sick after I was born, mainly because of her own selfishness, ignorance and neglect) they wouldn't have make me do what they did.
Every fucking year, every fucking mother's day, since the May after Mother died (she died February 21st, 1984) till I was in 6th grade Prep school, I had to came up with two presents, two of everything, replicas of one another, so I wouldn't hurt anybody's feelings, or I'll be forced to pay for the rest of the year. It was extra work for me, extra money from my Dad's pocket, cause he had to buy the materials and he was fond of the piranhas in his pockets, and the whole thing always blew up in my face when neither one of them really cared for those presents and never really appreciated the effort.
Oh well, I didn't really give a fuck, but it was a lot of stress to put on my shoulders... for free.
Along with that, came the infamous visits to the Cemetery, those Mother's day Sundays, in the middle of fall. Dark, rainy and cold days, that were just too depressing to handle... and to see my sister Monica cry her eyes out, Marcela just looking lost and me... just wishing to disappear.
*sigh*
Now, and for some years has been different.
I can actually enjoy the fact that I don't have to feel the guilt of her death, because I know it wasn't my fault, I don't have to do anything special that day. I don't have to freeze my ass off in that old and creepy Cemetery.
It's just like any other day, and it feels good.

I don't hate my Mother, don't get me wrong.
I can't say that I love her either, not because of what she did or didn't do, but because i never met her. It wasn't fun to be around when she was sick. She spent several weeks in the Hospital, and then she didn't want to see me cause she knew she was dying and she just pushed me away. She had her reasons and I respect that.
She put my father and sisters through hell during that period, going from really sick, to frantic to psychotic, making them sit around and takes notes while she planned her funeral. And believe me, there were specific commands from her... Not letting my father get re-married and not allowing women to get in the house, among the many.
I don't miss her, how can you miss somebody you never met?
I maybe miss the *IDEA* of her, the idea of having a Mother to run to when you need it, an understanding shoulder to cry on, someone to go shopping with, to talk about men with, to share past stories, advices and old family recipes... the Idea of having your procreator besides you when you were sick, when you were happy, when you were sad, when you just wanted to talk.
I never had that with her, therefore, I don't miss it.
I never had it with anybody, until a few years before Dad's passing, when we got our lives together again, and that was only 10 or 12 years ago. And I missed it, and now I have it with the wonderful man God and my Dad put in my way to be my loving husband.
I'm not bitter about it either, what's the point? It's not like I *deserved* to grow up without a mother, I didn't ask for it, I didn't do anything wrong, it just happened.
I don't blame her, or God or anybody for this, but don't ask me to think differently because I won't.
Don't ask me to feel something about it because I won't.
Don't make comments about it, because, unless you've lived my life, you're not allowed to judge me, my feelings or my thoughts.

One thing though, if you have a mother, enjoy her. Don't make her suffer. Don't make her cry, spend time with her, and not make this day *THE* only day for her. Tell her that you love her every chance you can, cherish and thank her because without her, you wouldn't be here.
And if, unlike me, you don't have her with you, but had the pleasure and joy of meeting her, remember her fondly, say a prayer for her soul and be  grateful that now she is with her creator and her love surrounds and protects you every day, like the best Guardian Angel you'll ever have.

 I'm a fan of Lewis Black.. I love his witty, sarcastic and fucked up ass. So, I cherished the time when he said "we're all like snowflakes", meaning we're so different from one another. And in this case, I am.
As you might recall, I mentioned I was dieting and had to run some routine tests ordered by my doctor.
Well, I did.
I have to say, I was scared of the results. 
I was asked to do an insulin (and glucose) tolerance test, along with lipid profiles, biochemistry profile, and hemogram.
They sucked the blood out of me that day, I felt like in the middle of a fucked up episode of Vampire diaries.
But the weirdest test was the insulin.
They took almost a bottleof blood and then they made me drink this gross orangy liquid, concentrated glucose. It was so sweet I craved for a bag of salt afterwards...ew.

Ok, so... I did it.
For a while now I've been feeling like crap, nothing fits, everything hurts, and well.. I went to the doctor.
Not because I have some disease, but because I have the greatest of all... I'm fat.
I never remember me being thin, I've always been a big girl. But for a time now, it's gotten out of control.
I work in a Hopsital, so it's like.. right there, in your face all the time.
We are a Univeristy Hospital, high complexity facility.. they could help a fatty like me, I thought.
Well, there's this doctor, she's on TV all the time, not because of advertising, but because everytime there's some big holiday in which we, chileans, go out of our way to eat like there's no tomorrow, she shows up on the news, being interviewed and well.. I took that as a sign, mainly because I was getting sick of seeing her face on my screen.
So, I made an appointment.
She was nice, she knew me (I work in Personnel, they all know us, so much for my invisibility cloak). She was surprised to see me, as I was surprised of actually being there.
So she asked, why was I there?
I told her I was sick of seeing her face on TV and decided to see the real thing... she laughed. Then I told her my brother in law, that same day, was getting a gastric bypass, and I didn't wanted to get to that point. I still have some willpower left, i guess.
Then she asked the usual... what do you eat, what are your habits, do you excersise... blah, blah, blah.. and every answer I gave, turned her face into something I've never seen before. It was quite amusing, I have to say.
I get amused when I shock people. Reminds me of the time, during Sunday lucnh, I told my Dad and sister that my Mom was an illegitimate child, because I found her birth certificate. I've never felt a rain of soup, since that day.
Oh well.
She started observing me, and I know I'm weird, so people staring at me it's like *hey! what else is new?*, so I let her.
She typed in her computer, quietly, my hands sweating, bitting my lips, and trying to stop my leg from shaking (a sign i'm uncomfortable) and then she told me what I had to do... if I wanted to.
She gave me a list of things I could eat, sort of like a suggestion. She told me to try.
No junk food, no candy, no pastries, no sugar, no fat, no oil, no starch, no, no, no... as if my life wasn't boring enough. Fuck.
What am I allowed then? Veggies (ta-da!), 2 slices of bread a day, one teaspoon of sugar with my morning coffee, mixed with, yes, you guessed, sucralose. Diet dairy products, no more than 1 glass of milk a day, fruit and lots and lots of liquids.
She told me she didn't have any pills to offer, not that I wanted to take pills. I've been on that road beforem and all it got me was getting twice as bigger as I was.
And along with the list, she game a homework.
I was to write everything I ate, set my own schedule, and write down every thing taht went in my mouth (foodwise, get outta there), every craving and every time I felt hungry... with dates and time.
She gave me a blank sheet to do it. *snorts* Let's just say, I'm carrying extra weight in my purse in the shape of a notebook.
Amazing how I crave the weirdest things at the weirdest times...
Before leaving her office she told me something curious. She said that, with the little interview we had, she kinda got the picture of who I was, and she said my problem wasn't obesity...
So it is Psychiatric? I asked.
She said no. She said, in my list of priorities, losing weight was at the bottom of the list, but there was something about me, maybe my strong and intimidating personality (she said so, i was quiet) made me go see her, but for another reason. .. She said there was an ulterior motive for my visit. That she knew it.
That got me thinking...
And, deep inside.. yes. I have an ulterior motive.
All of my life I've been criticized for what I am, what i'm not, what I do, what I don't... and all of my life I've accepted challenges that haven't been remotely offered to me.
This time it's that. A challenge.
I've seen my sister, nieces and nephews go thru diet after diet, pill after pill, doctor after doctor (we're a big family... we're the chilean version of the Klumps), with no apparent results.
My older sister ised to be thin as a stick, she got pregnant and suddenly she developed a circular figure, with extreme breasts to decorate it, and now she walks like the hunchback of Notre Dame, all bacuse of the weight.
My niece is just her mother's (and father's) daughter. An 18 year old who, during the first 17 years of her life has become McDonald's frequent buyer. Who at the age of one, her first word was burger.
My middle sister went from thin, to fat, then almost anorexic, and now she's expanding like the nuclear shit in Japan.
and there's me... Shamu.
But the reason behind this is...
After I found out my brother in law was getting the GBP, I talked to him.  He told me the reasons, but it wasn't what I wanted to hear.
He spent a whole lot of money in that, and I'm yet not convinced.
What I'm doing is to prove taht you can, just for the sake of doing it. I can lose weight. I can change my lifestyle, and I don't need pills or knives to do it. Just a little guidance.
Will I succeed? Probably not (I don't have self esteem, so sue me), but I will try.

I started that same day, and now it's been almost two weeks.
I don't feel lighter, my winter clothes still don't fit, I've been peeing like a race horse, I'm sick and tired of vegetables, i'm still smoking (yeh, yeh, save it), but I know I'm on the right path. What the future holds it's unknown, and I don't wanna know, really. I'm just going with the flow.
I took the tests she ordered, and I might be pre diabetic. So be it. I'm not gonna get frightened about it (Hello, i have a brain tumor. Whatever comes after that is just another stain on a dirty cloth), I'm just going to start taking care of myself a little buit and see how it turns.

I'll keep you posted.

The Five Questions Meme

How this meme works:
1 - Leave a comment, saying you want to be interviewed.
2 - I will respond; I'll ask you five questions.
3 - You'll update your journal with my five questions, and your five answers.
4 - You'll include this explanation.
5 - You'll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.


so, tayryn  gave me the following:

( Memememememe )

Saw this and decided to steal it... thanks miss_julia_s 

Where were you born?
Santiago de Chile

Who do you love?
My husband, Brian

Did you have a cat when you were little?
Nope (allergic)

Who hurt you biggest?
my sisters

How do you stay alive?
Sarcasm

What color are your eyes?
Brown

What color is your aura?
*snorts*

What color is your underwear?
Today, black bra, black panties.

How many people have you abandoned?
a couple I guess

What’s your favorite food?
Pizza, italian in general

Did you like school?
Not really, tho i had some good times

Do you want more?
More school? Now that i'm old and on the job force... no

What does it mean to be in love?
Caring about someone else, who cares about me, sharing a life, a friendship... a lot of things

Do you believe in magic?
Nope

Do people think you’re crazy?
crazy, weird, psycho, bipolar, schizoid...

Are you?
oh totally

How old were you when you realized you’re all alone?
almost 6, after Mother died and my family went bananas

How old were you when you realized you’re not alone?
30

How do you wield power?
sleeping

What’s your favorite outfit?
pajamas

What helps you sleep?
my husbands voice

What flavors make you gag?
vinegarish flavors

Do you feel beautiful?
No

Are you afraid of the dark?
No

Do you believe in reincarnation?
Yes