Little M's fringe
The model is wearing a striped spring sweater and a brand new hair cut with a stylish fringe.

Acknowledgements: Fresh Breeze Airlines, Mountain Family House, Cutie Pie hairbands.

Twist and (don't) shout
I don't write that much because things are happening around me that keep me away from free time near modems and the urge of sharing. It's a problem of lack of technology and holding a few secrets. Don't complain, you know the mistery factor makes me a more interesting friend. Bare with me and i'll give you an update of the present times while i try to fix the 'no past' issue. I'm sure you've noticed i still don't have any archives since last april. If i can't keep track of myself, how can i possibly be comfortable in this bizarre ambivalent blog?

The question i've been getting the most these past weeks is Are you happy?. People are actually curious to see if the job change was worth it or not, which makes me feel loved and instantly happy. The answer, nevertheless, is not Yes. I've cooled down, i look 'sunnier', i walk with a different pace. I needed to make that jump. The fear and a hint of anxiety are still there but we all know that's part of the game and they will never leave. I can hide them under a new desk and disguise behind a baby blue power suit, but as soon as you look into my eyes you'll see the awkward light, bleeping away.

Life is warm. It's full of twists, but the road looks hopeful. Of course i'm sad. Of course i'll keep following the sun. But thanks for asking.

Abstract
I stare at the screen. I open the second drawer on my left for the third time in the morning. I listen to the silence dropping down on the brand new desk. I have a strange job that suits incredibly well with my strange life.

I walk up and down the streets, under the varying heat. I daydream, i take notes in the agenda and i try to smile to myself. The summer is almost here. I love it when things are about to happen, when an atmosphere of change is at the tip of your fingers, at the verge of the clouds, and tells you that it's about to get heavy. I can't put my thoughts in order, but i classify them depending on their weight. Category A: pee, eat, talk to someone, write. B: make you laugh, buy shoes, understand a crossed database. C: dance to that music i've been humming for a month, finish reading the pink book, iron two spring dresses.

I think about the appartment i will rent. I imagine the fridge, a coloured wall and maybe a new sound system. I don't see the alarm clock waking me up, the feeling of returning to an empty space or my new life unfolding there. I am refusing to get into the abstract of things and that's why i will do ok for now.

...
He'd be 30 today. It's been a sunny afternoon. I'm really tired now.

Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your naaaaaaaaaaaaame!
(Ode to the Freeway bar)


There's more to this place
than wood and dim lights
There's the music, a queue for the toilet
and oh those smiles
There's an upstairs, a downstairs
and room for the night
There's a sign on the wall
and a bunch of friends in sight.

Before you know it you'll be on your third beer
Please leave your pain outside the door, my dear
Dance ferociously, let the night take over the day
Time always goes faster at the Freeway.

Patty LaBelle is the best juggler in the drinks
The old rocker boy sips his bottle and grins
The coolest chick in town sings over The Kinks
Her date, a geek with pride, watches her and winks.

There's a Marilyn Manson
heading for the dance floor
A wild group of thirtysomethings
is begging for much more
Your DJ will be The Monkey
or a sweedish bloke -both part of the decor-
Make sure you swing your head
and your neck doesn't get sore.

Before you know it you'll be on your sixth beer
Please leave your pain outside the door, my dear
Dance ferociously, let the night take over the day
Time always goes faster at the Freeway.

He's back
I go wild whenever i hear the first notes of 'Born to run'. Every time someone plays 'Brilliant disguise' i think of my mother and how she adores listening to the entire 'Tunnel of Love' album. I used to amuse my friends entiing their romantic fantasies by telling them how Bruce Springsteen discovered one day that he was in love with Patty Scialfa and abandoned his wife.

I have followed this man. I have a thing for the way he writes his music, his homey voice and the sound his band is capable to create. But most of all, i have memories related to him. How the cutest boy in high school asked me to dance with him when 'Tougher than the rest' played at a party. His invitation arrived 48 hours before the party started. I was 14.

Then i got the chance to see him live in Madrid. 1988. He played for over four hours. It was hot at the stadium. The sunny evening turned into night and he jumped on stage, Patty by his side, playing 'All that heaven will allow'. My friend Luis was there with me. I don't think he even liked Springsteen, but he had got us a couple of tickets and decided to enjoy the concert no matter what.

We made friends among the crowd, we discussed the sound of the lead guitar and we decided nothing wrong would happen to his new car, parked in a dodgy neighbourhood. Then we went back to his place, the songs still drumming in our minds. We stayed up all night and then i accompanied him to the faculty. It was a bright morning and i waited for him at the cafeteria, while i tried to recall the exact words of 'Cover me'.

It was a great concert and a brilliant night of bonding. Now he's gone and Springsteen is back in town, where he's playing tonight. I could've gone and it could've been fantastic, but i don't see the point in mixing up wonderful memories, to be honest.

Places



It's a beautiful sunny afternoon in El Escorial. I wonder how many people in, say, Helsinki, would love to see what i'm seeing right now from my window. Of course, there are many other places where i'd like to be today, such as:

Camden market in London, buying silly jewelry

Central Park in New York, watching blond ladies walk their dogs in Louis Vuitton leashes (for the pets, that is)

A posh street in Paris, getting an invitation to lunch by the river while i carry a couple of big bags

Denver, Colorado, riding a convertible car and singing The Cranberries with Lynch

Quebec city. I'd be walking to Martin's house, taking a detour to enjoy every little street

Strolling around El Escorial, looking for a nice terrace to read the newspaper is also a great plan. Wave if you spot me.

New Mountain House



Trees, water, an impressive view. The Mountain Family is moving! What do you think of that garden? I just let go very long sighs each time i stare at this picture. Give them a year or so and the place will be a reality. Talk about the house of your dreams...

Keyboard auditorium for jelly bears
PhotoFriday wants photos on a friday. Since i'm dissing question time lately, i thought i might give this web a shot. This week's theme was 'candy'.

I'm also linking the picture to another template, since the frustrating confused people in Blogger have decided to hide all my archives and permalinks since april.

At least the jelly bears seem to be having a blast watching the show from the keyboard auditorium.

Sweet and sour
I have been thinking about someone a lot this week. It's a boy i used to go to school with. We've managed to more or less keep in touch throughout the years.

He turned 30 yesterday and i told myself i shouldn't forget to call him on a day as unique. Finding his number was a little tricky. We talked for maybe a minute before he found out who i was. I said: 'We've known each other since we were 5, so i really must wish you a very happy 30'. We decided to go out for lunch some time. It was all very sweet.

And terribly sad. He told me a little about his life, which has changed a lot in the last six months. He has reinvented himself. His mother died and, for the second time in his life, he decided to stand by his family. Different job. Quit job. Sell the business. Different neighbourhood. New town. Different life. Just for the sake of his people. For the sake of survival, really.

I always knew this boy was made of a different kind of material than the rest of us. His mum's material, probably. She shall be missed. She was brilliant.

At school



I wrote this a long time ago. I just think it's worth remembering it every once in a while.

Two more geeks into this world
The twins arrived last night, all blond and little and full of life. They almost slipped out of mother Ona.

His dad had a serene look in his eye this afternoon. She was fresh and happy with expectations.

Congratulations to the big family!

Roll with the punches
This has been a sunny awakening in a comfortable landslide of confusion.

Because i tumble and fall and then i try to take the next step just a little bit further. Because i still laugh both in the inside and the outside. Because i love coffee and my cds. Because i hate not knowing who i am every now and then, but i don't care reinventing myself for any occasion. Because someone once told me you just gotta roll with the punches, and i do. Because i won't count the wounds and i will cling on to the best part of the days. Because it's kinda hard, but i like challenges.

You're supposed to keep walking, no matter what, so i might as well get some power shoes for the road ahead. And maybe a nice pair of shiny boxing gloves.

Formerly known
First came Prince, who got pissed off with his record company and turned himself into a symbol.

Now, the Artist Formerly Known as Terence Trent D'Arby is called Sananda Maitreya. Apparently, some angel knocked on his door while he was sleeping and told him about his new personality.

I miss the times when being a rock star meant throwing tv sets and teenager fans out of the hotel windows.

Agenda update: Sananda D'Arby or whatever his name is will be playing free in Madrid tomorrow night. Plaza Mayor. But if you see me there, please note it's him i'll be watching.

Art on tape
Nick had dinner at El Escorial a few nights ago. We ended up in the sitting room, picking songs for a tape he wants to make. Yes, he still makes tapes. Not CDs, not MP3 playlists, but the good old eighties-type tape. We are tape-freaks, very much like John Cusack's character in 'High Fidelity'. Which really means we are a lot like Nick Hornby.

Making a tape is an art. It takes a lot of rules, just like Hornby's book clearly explains, such as you must never give all the best songs away on the A side. You have to be careful mixing styles and rythms, though i don't actually respect that one. I am oh so capable of offering something wild by INXS right after 'Calling it quits', by Ani di Franco.

There are also classics that everyone has, the tunes that you always include on a tape, no matter what the theme or the person receiving it is. I have a very soft spot for 'A long December' (Counting Crows) and many Spanish songs, for instance. Nick will give you 'Confidential Information' no matter what, whereas H would go for Oasis as a trademark.

I remember when i used to record songs directly from the radio. Those were the days of Terence Trent D'Arby, Tiffany and Peter Gabriel. Oh, shut up, i was a teenager growing up in 1987. The thing is every now and then i play them and laugh. The metallic sound, those colourful covers i made with different byros. Music was already so much fun then.

There are tapes that will make you speed while driving your car on the freeway, tapes that never fail to make you cry (the maker is 100% guilty in that case), tapes that are good to clean the house, tapes that keep you company like a kitten on your lap and tapes that make you fall in love.

I still believe that making a tape is one of the most personal gifts you can offer someone. And i think, no matter how far technology goes, i will never give up on those chrome and steel pieces of art.

ambivalence reports
(or You Should Wear Those Minishorts in Tokyo)



In the past month, three people came to my site typing the word 'tokyo' into a search engine. Another two went for 'drugs' and one looked for 'minishorts'. Then another came for 'grizzley' and a next one looked 'sunglasses'. There was still room for a person who looked 'shampoo' up and found me, not to mention the one who typed 'gin&tonics' and 'puma'. You are what they search.

No alarms and no surprises
These strange days that make my world turn lately are full of void. Many words are left unsaid and a bunch of feelings are abruptly jumped over.

The new stuff gives me a good yet confusing vibe: a couple of big decisions, the job switching, important people settling in the city or quietly departing from my agenda.

You ask how i am doing and my reply is never self-explanatory.

I guess i've been here before. I suppose i don't wan't anybody to get alarmed or worried about me. That's because i think i was actually looking for this place i'm in, that my approach has changed the way i wanted it to and that i'm just harvesting what i sowed. So now is the time to sit back and focus on the path i've opened for myself, follow it with all the twists and turns, and then try and balance it all out.

Until then, i don't really think there is anything big left to say. And you know that the small things are the ones that count.

Waiting room
We wait. She holds her breath. We are excited. She is kinda scared. We are anxious to see their faces. She is probably sharing all these feelings plus five thousand more with her man.

Jesus Christ, the babies are about to show up. Has it really been nine months -or almost- already? Are you sure? Did we all do the math correctly? All this time has gone by and her tummy barely moved an inch for the first six months. She looks different, but it's not the body, it's the attitude.

It never fails to amaze me the serenity that pregnant women achieve from day one. Perhaps it was from day 21 in her case, given the initial shock. I'll never forget that phone call, when she was still shaking and kept saying "two, two, two", like some magical mantra she needed to get into her system.

Except number two was already in her system, and now the magical figure is about to come out and explore the world with her and the proud father to be. We wait. She holds her breath.

"Having a baby is the bravest act of hope a person can exhibit in the whole world. It's a leap of faith". Uma Thurman, 1999. Elle Magazine.

No recent memories
Calling geek hotline.......... My domain name expired, i renewed it after being off line for a few days. I was asked to upload the whole site again and that's what i did. Now everything is back but my recent archives are still gone. April and May do not exist in the server. Nowhere to be found. I see them in Blogger but the republishing won't work. Getting the 'no archives' option isn't good either. I really need your help to get my memory back on line!

Looking back
I've been looking at old photographs today. Do you want to see what i've seen? Here's a selection.

Sing for the Friday Five

1. Name 1 song you hate to admit you like.
Generally, anything by Bryan Adams. I'd also have problems admitting that i know the words to 'The greatest love of all', by Whitney Houston, because i loved it back in the eighties (!!!!) and that i think Spice Girls' 'Wanna be' was a great song.

2. Name 2 songs that always make you cry.
Mercedes Ferrer has a song called Adios that always makes me want to run to a cliff and jump. But the saddest one i've ever heard is 'She's leaving home' by The Beatles. The melody is devastating and then the words come out to grab your heart and tear it apart.

3. Name 3 songs that turn you on.
'Something stupid', by the Sinatras (father and daughter), almost anything by Pulp because i think their music is sooo sexy, and finally Prince's 'Get off'.

4. Name 4 songs that always make you feel good.
I'd love to wake up every morning to Eminem's 'Sing for the moment', then continue the day with 'Rotterdam', by The Beautiful South, keep going with 'Smile' (The Jayhawks) and turn the lights off while something soft by Bruce Springsteen plays in the background.

5. Name 5 songs you couldn't ever do without.

'Time of your life' (Green Day)

'Hablame a los ojos' (Antonio Vega)

'He said' (Eddie Brickell & The New Bohemians)

'Everybody hurts' (REM)

'La parte de adelante' (Andres Calamaro)

Reflecting
I've been looking at myself in the mirror. Again.
Tom saw his reflection too.