The Grotesqués
The girls are back, and they're on a mission. Alaitz and Elena, also known to their audiences as 'Las Grotesqués', are about to launch their new show called Sometimes i see closets (to be read whispering). Believe me, you will hear their names in the not-so-distant future.

Their première will happen sometime around June 15th, so if you are in Madrid this month, i strongly recommend you go to Teatro Alfil and find out for yourself what all the buzz is about.

Uma is retaking up her old task of culturizing this ambivalent weblog. Stay tuned for the summer updates on mesmerizing events such as Bisbal's tour and Robotics conventions.

Friends on a Sunday

Starring:



What happened:

The love post
I know where we're getting married.
I know where we're having dinner on our wedding day.
I know what i'll be wearing over my dress.
I know when we're getting married.
I know who's attending our wedding.
I know i'll have the coolest flower girls ever.
I know i can't wait for the big fun day.
I know i'm lucky.
I know i don't fall into the marrying kind
yet i know we're going to be very happy.

Come on, it's Monday and it's raining, let me spread the luuuuuuuv word, summer's only around the corner.

Shopaholic ties the knot
Trix had the day off and Ona was dying to go out to the park with her twins, so the five of us headed to the Book Fair. Someone has stolen the entire spring away from the city and the summer sun was behaving boldly yesterday. Trix looked like she'd been run over by August and the babies remained calm in their huge double stroller. We had beers and lemon frappé and a few laughs. Then the girls decided to buy me a present: 'Shopaholic ties the knot', by Sophie Kinsella. Trashy pageturner that i can't let down since last night. Stop laughing at me, Trix.

Just to prove i am not very different from the girl in the book and, after discussing the latest SWP details (wedding in the countryside, anyone?), i headed to a store with Trix.

I didn't get anything too glamorous, all the items in my basket were incredibly practical. This is my shopping list: (1) A comic book about a typical couple for Pablo, because i knew it will make him laugh and his laughter is contagious. Very contagious. (2) A recipe book. "I could by another one, but this is the only book which has helped me make delicious stews just by following the instructions", Trix said. I agree. You should try my apple chicken. We got two copies of the magical book.

We also got two copies of Bebe's first album, because it's good, because it's creative, because she writes her own stuff, because her new hit is far from stupid despite the summer atmosphere in the music industry and because she's a friend of a friend and we will certainly support her. I can't understand why you haven't run to your store by now.

My last 'practical' shopping item was the complete first season of Sex and the City, which, again, was a gift for Pablo. Because it's funny and sophisticated as hell, because, as my friend F described it, "watching those episodes is like receiving the Girls Evangelism for Men".

As the sun fell down over Madrid i landed at our apartment with two shopping bags and decided a wedding out of the city will be fun as long as we keep the party back in town. Shopaholic is certainly tying the knot.

Time out
She feels someone keeps taking up her time, and she doesn't notice until the tiredness runs over her body, capturing her mind and giving her cramps.

She doesn't know where her hours go, all those days that used to look like near future, where did April go? Is May still out there? She tries to grab the next fifteen minutes and then they disappear, too.

She slept for four straight hours on the couch yesterday, waking up to an empty head and wondering how it happened. She answers the phone and someone on the other side has already made plans for her, which will take up most of the weekend. She doesn't want to complain. But she doesn't want time to slip away like this. She guesses she's just getting older.

She can't have it all, this she knows. She'd like to have a fresh bouquet of hours to make the apartment shine, to have long talks with her boyfriend, to sit down and write, to have drinks with friends. She'd like that. And she's on her way to achieving it. But time isn't running fast enough.

Out of hand
The computer at home got infected. The one at work, too. I delete 6 of every 7 mails i receive. This is getting out of hand, my friends.

(Via Not Superwoman)

*Deep sigh*