Now i remember...
They're back. Everything that happened in 2003 has returned from cyberoblivion and is no longer lingering around. I've managed to more or less recover all my archives, which is something close to magical after they went missing last March.

So now i remember. The days in Barcelona in April. The Freeway Hymn from May. Then the June tide of uncontrolled thoughts. Dixie getting married (wow). Flying to Saint Petersburg in September. And all those fairies.

It's good to have everything back to ambivalence. The sense of 'getting my act together' is great. Boy, have i missed you.

Relax on the agenda
I glance at my agenda. It's a brown leather schedule pad i've had since i started working at the newspaper.

I love it, for very strange and diverse reasons. This year its pages are full of post-it notes and keywords underlined in fluorescent colours. Names, dates to remember, appointments, birthdays. There's no way any electronic gadget could ever replace the little pieces of daily life i both dread and adore.

Call doctor, fix shoes, check meeting report, email synchronized swimming judge. Do grocery, feed Lovely's cat, make hotel booking for three.

I flip through the pages, back and forth, to make sure i'm not missing anything importantly frivolous, and then i indulge into page Saturday 31st, 13.00 p.m. Shiatsu with Trix, power girlie lunch (with possible male inclusion) and general relaxation. I read it again and i purr louder than Lovely's cat ever will.

I feel like an overworked yuppie. Like a pretentious little bitch, giving out about stress. Like a pampered lover. And there's nothing really wrong with those feelings: the thing is when i come out of my shiatsu massage i'll feel even better.

She was there
I spotted the girl at the end of the kitchen, where we were having our first drink of the party. She did some small talk with the boys while i said to myself that i had seen her somewhere before. The same voice was apparently talking to her, because 20 minutes later, staring hard at me, she said: 'Could i speak to you in private for a second?'.

I freaked out a little, but i let her drive me to a corner of the hall, where she was almost whispering. She repeated my name and then she smiled. 'Did a friend of yours die in the snow?'. I froze and went pale, but i nodded with my head. I wanted to run but i couldn't really move. She smiled again. 'I was there'.

We briefly discussed that day back in 1997, but none of us was in the mood for morbid thoughts. No. What happened was an unexpected instant bond between us. We spent the rest of the evening sharing memories of places (both of us had lived for a while in Canada, both of us were still in love with the country), giggling about an ex boyfriend of hers, and basically enjoying ourselves.

It was good to feel the attachment to an almost absolute stranger. It was magic. And i'm glad she was there.

Coming of age
Uma B. has stopped crawling and she is now a walking girl who's been stepping over her ambivalences for two years today.

Right here, right now: it's Friday

At this moment, what is your favorite...

1. ...song?
I’m hooked on the 'Martini Lounge' channel in Launch Cast, but at home I keep listening to the latest Mala Rodríguez album (especially tracks 1 and 2) and Coldplay's 'A rush of blood to the head'.

2. ...food?
If you asked me for a reason I'd probably have trouble giving you a proper one, but lately I crave for broccoli. Also, I'm a huge fan of breakfast at lunch/dinner time.

3. ...tv show?
Bring on the commercials, hon. Since I don't have a TV set at home, I keep missing those minifilms that used to make my day. I can't believe I've missed the car and perfume ad marathon this Christmas. This is a rather comforting thought.

4. ...scent?
I hadn't changed my Coco Chanel loyalty since I was 17, but then my sister came along with a beautiful bottle of Gucci. Now I have a divided, smelly heart. For other purposes, such as home scents or body sprays, I love vanilla.

5. ...quote?
Anything muttered by Patsy in Absolutely Fabulous. Long live the classics.

Jigsaw
He was an imperfect stranger under a copper light. He talked, she listened, she smiled, he shrugged. But all the time she was furiously searching in her mind for a memory that had vanished without her even knowing.

She felt good thinking everything turns out right with the adequate dose of time, although she suspected her approach was the only item that had actually changed in the urban scenery. Time and faces go by until they eventually fade out. 'Just like last season skirts', she said to herself, trying to regain her frivolous corner.

Still, she believed the pieces of her life were part of a storm, pouring over her at the bar, falling into all the right places. 'How can this jigsaw be my guts?', she heard herself mutter under her breath, feeling half puzzled and half grateful.

She gazed at the imperfect stranger, trying to understand the process of forgetting, forgiving, foreseeing. He made an effort to produce a hint of a smile. Just before midnight, she stopped going through the files of her memory, knowing she'd never find what she wasn't looking for.

On the line
In my mind there is an alternative television showing the following: A supermodel counting the days left until she marries her fiancée. In cash. An ugly actor who's funny enough to make it. A gorgeous male face with little acting skills but an acceptable level of emotional intelligence. A film director trying not to go bananas. And then, me.

My job is on the line. I don't really know what this means, but at least i know it means something. My stomach is upside down but my heart is taking over. My voice is failing but the stomach has orders and does the talking. My brain is too confused to get organized but there are words burping out of my mouth and i'm actually walking.

If it's never too late to say 'i'm sorry', then it must be the right time to make a couple of amendments. As long as i don't fall off the catwalk.

Big little things
I took a walk to a snob supermarket yesterday afternoon. On my way i flipped through the pages of an amazing book by Barceló and then my eyes lingered around a shop that sells summer sandals all year long. Madrid is brilliant when it comes to big little things like that.

As i made a turn to my right i noticed the sun was pointing its fingers towards a few selected buildings, highlighting their natural beauty. Or perhaps they were really ugly, and the sun rays turned them into something else.

It was cold and a specially invisible wind made my face feel frosty. Have fun this winter in the city, but beware of the flu. Those currents and the blue sky are a dangerous combination, and you know it.

Walking around winter
I have a new carpet for my studio. A huge bamboo carpet for my tiny and cold floor. That should help me walk around winter feeling a lot cozier.

I imagine what the new look of the studio will do to me (delivery is yet to come) and an army of questions pops up with the idea. I see other walls when i picture mine, other wardrobes, a different bathroom, an actual kitchen.

That feeling of temporariness surrounds me as the days go by. Nobody rents a studio of this size forever. "Not even for a year", was the look in my landlady's eye as we signed the contract. I knew this then, the same way i know now that time has come.

The girls
Sometimes Morgana gets a strange look on her face and i feel the urge to either run for my life or give her a hug. Now that she's a mother other things in her have changed but i still see that look every once in a while.

Six rubs her shoes to try to get back to reality, even though last 2003 swept her off her feet and she's still flying. I haven't had a long conversation with her since a crazy night around a pool table, but i know her energy keeps flowing in the damn right direction.

I love the way hours slip by when i'm sitting at a table with Trix and Dixie, the way they treat our friendship with amazing respect, turning it into something almost holy. The string that holds our laughs together is made of a strange unbreakable material.

She runs, she sits down, she looks inside, she stands beside herself: LovelyV reinvents herself every morning and goes to bed knowing she'll always make making the right decisions. Serene and graceful.

I don't think scientists know shit about us girls.

The ocean out of season
Swimming against the tides may be good for your body, but letting yourself be pushed and pulled by waves is way better. If you ask me, that is.

I can connect almost anything that happens in life to the sea. The changing colours, the melancholy of the temperamental water, the sun playing over you at the beach. I relate to the sea, even if i'm a complete urbanite who lives on the centre of a peninsula. Or maybe precisely because the nearest beach is several hours away. I find this fascination for the ocean hard to explain, but i also know i'm not the only one.

Today i don't have playful images of sand castles or boys diving from rocks into the sea. What i see this morning is a blue-grey beach, enduring the winter with dignity and wind, just like the ones i enjoyed in Portugal.

The sea, out of season: cotton pullovers and sandals on one hand, dogs racing along the coast and the water, that green and blue and grey liquid that stares back at you and almost winks. I look at the waves, riding on their tides, inviting me to jump in and wash away unwanted stains. Asking me to stay underwater for as long as i can, allowing silence and creatures to cut me out of my reality.

I'm longing for the ocean out of season again.

U-turns and loops
She stood in front of the window for a while, looking at the clothes from the street and not seeing anything but her reflection on the glass. Even that, she neglected to register in her mind. She was lost in thought while she pretended to be window shopping.

Recent developments, along with things that had happened a long, long time ago, kept her there, standing, blind to everything but the rush of ideas in her mind.

She didn't know how to pull out and get back to reality, her pulse racing, her eyes wanting to close down for the season.

She tried going negative, thinking black, but her happiness was strange and persistent: it kept licking her face, coming back to her mind like a passenger on a ferris wheel. Then she looked down and the song whispered from her head: 'i'll be wrapped around your finger', like some kind of mantra from the 80s.

It would be nice to go home and make some dinner. It would be brilliant if she could go nightclubbing tomorrow. It would be great if she could only tell the world about all the shit one can miss by setting limits and barriers. It would be perfect if everyone had the patience to stop making u-turns and simply looped around until the right approach came along.

Explosions
Strong emotions build up slowly, as if they didn’t really want to become any bigger. Once they find themselves in the right size and shape, they decide whether they wish to live on that precarious balance or else… explode.

I'm fond of explosions, can you believe that? I like things going to the extreme just to find out where the limit is, to discover just how far they can go. A little boy letting go of his self control over a cookie. A man bursting into tears of rage. A teenager who dances hysterically after a piece of good news. Explosion in the soul. Nothing leaves you feeling more at peace with yourself. Annihilation leading a way.

Remember when you used to burst the bubbles on the plastic wrapping sheet? Think of the weird joy you felt pressing your fingers until you heard and felt that small explosion. Then you had to do it again. Over and over.

Let yourself go a little. Burst. Follow your explosions wherever they take you. I’m not talking about getting violent (and this includes the fights over precious items during the sales). It’s more about not holding up the tight emotions inside. Cry a little. Laugh a little. Live a little. Explode.

You learn
My mood is very much at the tip of my fingers today. Basically, it really is up to me if i decide to be happy or devastated. I have reasons for both and i'm partly responsible for both.

I could depart my bubble and face the ugliest reality, watch and cry while i burst my dreams. Or i can close my eyes, make my smile grow wider and indulge into the sweetest thoughts.

As usual, the answer is right there in the middle. I'm doing well personally but i see more than dark clouds ahead in the other areas of my life. It's time to take a deep breath again. I need to understand where i went wrong and make amends.

Growing up is about making decisions. It's also about being able to handle issues on your own. Any kind of issue. I didn't act like a 30 year old this time, but more like a shivering teenager. You live, you learn.

In case you are in a playful mood today and i'm only ruining you spirits, here's a little something to lift you up. Have a go...



My Scrabble© Score is: 20.
What is your score? Get it here.

Catching the beat
The soundtrack starts playing first thing in the morning, with the humming of a neighbour in the shower, the chatter of kids on their way to school in the street, the smoke howling its way out of buses.

The chit-chat, hum-hum, tock, floush and beeps of the new year are already pushing our feet and occupying forgotten places in our minds. Tell me you don't feel it. Tell me you're not already part of the 2004 continuum. I know you are.

Turkeys are no longer an endangered supermarket species, the lights you see from now on will probably belong to traffic and the company parties are over around the world. Radio djs still speak to you as if you were dumb, but that's a forever thing, almost a mantra.

The planet gradually opens its eyes after a long hangover and orders coffee. The entire world gets shaken by the January sales and the loss of the Christmas spirit. It's time to get our act together again. Let yourself get into the back to school routine. Catch up with the beat. Can't you hear it outside your window? Chichit-chat, hum-hum, beep...

Never say never
I had never spent such a long time with the M&m's. I had never lived in a house like that one. I had never eaten 'carabineiro' in a heart. I had never been given the possibility to capture breathtaking sunsets like the one at Cabo de Lobo, or enjoy a family walk around beautiful Faro. Portugal in the winter. Never say never.

Wilkommen

It always amazes me to check on the origin of the ambivalent visits, day by day. Wilkommen, bienvenue, welcome... buenas noches, bienvenidos (hijos del rock n roll?)

Fingerpaint
Chris Martin from Coldplay is threatening to burn a house from the speakers on my computer. The pool is quiet today, so is my office. First day of work in the year 2004. First day of work after the holiday. First day of the rest of our lives. Meanwhile, the sad guitar from Coldplay plays the live version of A rush of blood to the head. This is a good place to be this morning, as good as any other.

Eight days after a brilliant break on the South of Portugal, i can now say that i'm feeling a lot better, that life is sunnier and that the new year has certainly brought on a shiny perspective on things. I feel i can fingerpaint the odds.

Bring on the rest of the cold days, the winter unfolding around us, over us. The short nights of staying at home under the duvet. The long days of walking on fallen leaves (yes, we still have them), of window shopping around the sales, of understanding both the need of mittens and black high heels on a dark evening. As long as the light within doesn't change too fast, i'm ready.

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In other news, i won't be here tomorrow. It's a national holiday in Spain. You know, the Three Wise Men, presents for the children, the lot. For me, it's the day of the year when i take a deep close look inside and remember more than ever all that we should be grateful for.

The day when i track back in my mind and i arrive at the time when my best friend was here still, before the accident, before the black twist strangled my life, long before hell. Instead of regretting, seven years from that dreadful afternoon i shall laugh away the sadness.

So, just to make my point clearer, i'd like to say i'm grateful for my friends, for the crazy days when everything is red, for giggling conversations, for good wine, for fancy bars, for gorgeous clothes, for that smile, for the changing of seasons in this city and for the invention of fingerpaint.