Envy speaking on writing
I have two writers in front of me. They're talking to a journalist on my tv screen. I've been in the sitting room for over an hour, making coffee, watching cartoons and idling on the net. I'm a crazy pregnant girl on hormones and instead of feeling dopey all day, i'm 'quite' insomniac. Got up at 7.35 am today.

One of the writers on telly, a woman, i know as a reader (and i despise her work). The other one is a stranger to me. I'm enjoying their interview à trois because it's more like three people sharing coffees than a dense analytical talk about literature. Sidenote: Does this mean that morning television structure works better in my very simple head?.

The host asks them both about their writing habits. The man -salt and pepper hair, round glasses, calm (almost sleepy) attitude- says he works in the morning because he likes going to lunch with an eased mind. Sounds fair to me. He adds that writing one full page per day is usually good enough for him. The woman -loud type, heavily opinionated, colourful- has a confession to make. She has to write. Every day. All the time. She's an addict. A compulsive writer who is "lucky enough to get paid for that".

I stare and wonder if she's always been addicted to writing, or if this disease has developed after receiving every silly award (in cash, please) available in this country and creating bestsellers by combining what other people wrote under less marketed atmospheres.

And then i turn my eyes back to my laptop, where a dreaded deadline waits for me. I'm aware i'm not a huge fan of this woman's work, but that was pure envy pouring out of me five seconds ago. I wish i had half of her urge.

Expecting spring
I can't think of your name or your gender, because i'll have to talk to your father first and then let genetics take care of the rest. Sometimes i think that seeing your face will be like someone touching my life with a magical wand. Other days i'm terrified by thinking i won't know how to take care of you, or me, and i won't be able to tell you the bedtime stories you need to hear every night. Though most of the times i just imagine the look in your eyes, so attentive to life, and i see myself holding my breath so you're not aware that being by your side ties me to the world.

This is an excerpt from a quite longer text i wrote last year.

I was going to write an entry trying to explain how i feel but i think this explains it better, even if i wasn't expecting a child then.

I'm almost four months pregnant. Our baby should be here in spring, around April or May.

I'm not nauseated anymore and my belly is only starting to kick out.

We are happy and thrilled and amazed.

Of course i'll keep you posted, have i ever let you down?

Radiant
Here's my entry for this week's photo friday. I don't think 'd ever post a pic of myself for this web, but the theme is 'radiant' and this is a photo Pablo took last winter. He makes me that happy.

[Other photo fridays can be found here.]

Losing it
This is what i call things getting out of hand.

Booking time
I'm not reading that much lately. Me, the bookworm. I know there may be some very good excuses for this, but i must confess i'm worried.

I used to read at all times. At birthday parties as a child, when all the boys went down to the park to play with the ball. During long and short trips, on planes and subway stations. Sitting at a terrace, waiting for someone who wasn't even late. At night, all night sometimes. Hell, i've even read a book while walking down the street.

Anyway, i hope this is just a passing phase. While i regain my reading strength, i'll go through a few of the books i've managed to read in the past months.

'The gambler', by Feodor Dostoevsky. I'm very far behind in my classical readings, so i tried to update the situation by reading this little novel. It's lighter than i thought, and you learn a lot about casinos. I enjoyed it most of the time.

'The Elementary Particles', by Michel Houellebecq. The book i'm with right now. In French. Which might explain why i'm such a slow reader lately. Still, i'm loving it. It's different and thrilling, though Kurt prevented me from the author's tendency to moan. Not that oppressing, but fascinating.

'The lives of Lee Miller', by Anthony Penrose. I found this book to be a little confusing. I'm very interested in Lee Miller's work as a photographer, and i was attracted to her peculiar lifestyle in the 40s, so i jumped into this biography

'The book of illusions', by Paul Auster.You won't be able to stop reading this book. Wonderful. Truly entertaining.

'La aznaridad', by Manuel Vázquez Montalbán. I was given this for my birthday in December but it took me a while to finally read it. It's about the disaster caused by the last right wing government in Spain. It's true and funny at the same time, but somehow long.

'Allen Carr's Easy Way to Stop Smoking ', by Allen Carr. Yep. I haven't finished it but i have quit! Three months now! Woooohoooo!

'Arcángel de sombra', by Clara Janés. Poetry. Inspiring verses, but i discovered even more inspiring work by Ms. Janés in other books. Still, one of the best.

'Naked', by David Sedaris. Quite hillarious.

'Scoop', by Evelyn Waugh. Another classic. It was republished in a special 100th aniversary edition by Penguin. Aesthetics and talent united. I had to read it. Of course i liked it.

'El Pasado', by Alan Pauls. Interesting novel, although a little long. Interesting writer, although he tends to talk a lot. I attended a workshop with him this summer, and it was brilliant.

'Diary', by Chuck Palahniuk. Disturbing. True Palahniuk. Great.

Random information
- I've noticed i wear a minimum of one garment from Zara per day. Sometimes i do my mental math and i'm particularly pleased when the formula is something like: 2 Zara + 1 Hoss from Homeless + Marketplace rings + Leather coat from Notting Hill. I know it's lame. So am i.

- This is my current wallpaper as of today. I wonder how long i'll last with the yellow/lime. I love to keep my desktop nice and tidy, throwing all temp files and the such every hour, instantly putting in folders the stuff i download. On the other hand, my house is messy and full of 'temp files'. I should really do something about this.

- The music in the background is Chambao, whom we'll watch in concert next Friday. I should be looking forward to the event but for some reason it keeps slipping my mind. Maybe i should put it in a folder marked 'anticipation' in my head.

Winter image of the future
I've been at it again. Do i love window shopping. Especially from a laptop on our coffee table, sipping water and enjoying a dose of silence. Quiet autumn days seem a lot quieter than quiet summer days.

Of course, it feels like Sunday today, November 1st. Stores are closed and i'm hungover from a Halloween party i didn't get to. I have piles of work to do, both in and out of the computer. I've cancelled a cinema plan. I've almost cancelled eating hot meals at all today. That's the kind of day i'm in. The kind where Neil Young plays in the background.

Strolling around (virtually speaking) i've noticed the time of year, too. Now that the pumpkin carving is done, everyone seems to be counting down for Christmas. So i've done a little bit of Christmas window shopping all over the world and here's my winter image of the future.

Selection includes posh dress from Liberty's, home scent from Harrod's, xmas child decoration from Barney's and a good old armchair from Habitat to sit and watch the unwraping.