Chapter four
He interrupted me in the middle of a conversation, but i just smiled. We were in Barcelona's Paseo de Gracia and he was early for our appointment. I arrived at the bar with the firm idea of having a nice cool beer -it suited the weather in a strange way, since it was pouring rain but the sun was also out-, perhaps have a little something to eat, and write. I was down to chapter four and Lucas, my main character, was listening to his agent give him instructions on the phone.

I was trying to find out what Nadia looked like. She had rejected my character three days ago and i needed to know the colour of her hair, if she wears glasses and the sound she makes when she walks out in fury. But that morning, out in Paseo de Gracia, i could only see the guts of my character, i could feel the rage building up inside him, the sense of failure and the urge to leave his mind on hold for a little while. Then Jay walked into the bar. I closed my notebook and beamed at him.

He didn't ask, but looked at the red and white notebook on the table. I said 'chapter four is on the way'. He said he was glad that i was back at writing. Then he said he'd kill me if i ever stopped, though not writing would probably make me die anyway. I said chapter four was coming right after the first one and that i still had to think of chapters two and three. Jay laughed and declared that was the best organization he'd ever heard of. "Writers usually suck up all the whisky they can before they sit down to work. You're a mess before breakfast, and you're not even drinking. It'll be a wonderful story".

So here i am, facing the end of chapter four in my mind. And i've just seen Nadia catching a taxi. She's wearing expensive boots and no glasses. The way she walks makes me feel uneasy. We should never have trusted her, Lucas.

Bad dream
Nightmares are haunting me. I remember having these horrid dreams as a child, when i used to wake up screaming, distressed and anxious to jump into my mother's bed. I'm 29 now and the nightmares are back.

I'm aware this has a lot to do with the state i'm in, which isn't Washington or Ukrania, but Stressland, obviously. Still, i think i'm doing better lately, now that the new job isn't all that new anymore and that i 've finally sorted my priorities out. I just need to get a broader glimpse of my near future to walk easily again.

As soon as i fall asleep i dive into hospital corridors, dark rooms full of strangers, bonfires or damp basements. Dead children that i once knew are there, along with people i met years ago who don't look friendly anymore. Harsh conversations, strained faces and a lot of death.

Maybe i should just stop sleeping.

Oh Bring Back My site To Me
When your site goes down it feels as if your loving pet had run away from home. I find myself asking Tom every time i see him in front of the computer... "So, is Ambivalence back yet?". He turns to me with a grave smile on his face and shakes his head. I hate this anxiety.

The thing is i can't do much about it. The site will be gone for a while, or at least i always hope so, and i have to wait by the door to see if she comes back without a scratch. I could also send a rescue team but that's never worked in the past. I might try sending some flames to my server people, but it's kind of difficult, since they're down too. Rats.

I miss my site. I hope it's gone because she wanted to take a short break, maybe visit a couple of portals i haven't heard of and try new skins on now that i'm not looking. But i want the site back. This is probably why i'm writing a post that no one will read. It's like the whistle only ducks hear. My words are my birdcall.

Sometimes I see my memories
Like a film that never stops
Although I know how it ends
Still I can't help but watch

(The Jayhawks - 'A Break In The Clouds', Smile, 2000)

Meet the band
I discovered the group during the past year, though they've been around for ages. At first, i was expecting The Jayhawks to sound harsher, probably because of the people that recommended it. Then a friend of mine, down at the Freeway bar, asked the dj to play a certain song so i could get a glimpse of who they were. It was 'A break in the clouds'.

I'd place them somewhere between The Grateful Dead, The Counting Crows and Foo Fighters with a hint of Tori Amos. I've adopted 'Smile' as a hymn. I'm never tired of listening to lyrics like Such a lazy afternoon / Eight shades of gray and I can taste the rain / Oh, how high the lovely have flown / What led me to this town?.

Anyway, The Jayhawks are playing in Madrid on saturday. For those of you in the city, the gig will be at El Sol, 9.30. You know, the club at c/Jardines. I'll be there. I need a good concert. And i can't wait to catch the band live. Update: The tickets are sold out. Shit.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life
Good morning. Life is unfolding before my eyes as we speak. The sun is out, i have a lunch appointment i'm looking forward to and i'm about to have the second cup of coffee on the first day of the rest of my life. Yesterday i left the newspaper building trying to feel nothing and i think i did a good job pretending. Now i'm ready to dive into new business.

Water. All i think about lately is water and the colour blue. I never thought i was going to work in the organization committee of anything sport-related, yet here i am. I can't wait to start. I'm anxious and scared and happy. Everyone should feel the way i am once in a while.



Water. Swimming pools. The sea. These past days in Barcelona i've visited the sea frequently, as you might gather from these pictures i took. Funny about a city upon the beach that doesn't smell like the sea. Sometimes in Barcelona i felt i was drowning. I'm not sure this was due to the heavy rains.

I'm not a good swimmer, but i love water. When i was a kid my mother signed me up for swimming classes. I was petrified with fear. The smell of chlorine that i now love made me sick to the stomach. I didn't learn a thing. Wait, i did learn something: i managed to control the tension at five years old.

It was my sister, the following summer, who taught me. She had a natural, non-pressure method of teaching me how to let go of fear and enjoy the experience. She is a natural-born-enjoyer of things. I think i should try and relax more, appreciate stuff the same way she has always done. Maybe i can start with it today, since it's the first day of the rest of my life.

PS: I hope this answered Melanie's question in one way or the other...

First things first
I remember my first day of work at the newspaper. I walked into the building and a strange smell rushed towards my face. It was a very particular scent, born from the combination of cleaning products, plastic plants and tons of paper in the shape of news. That was the first thing i noticed. A smell that has accompanied me on my way to the first floor for four long years.

I remember the first wire i edited. It was about the moon doing some bizarre movement in the galaxy. And then my first news piece published in paper. An article about the latest software at the time. It was called 'Internet in a Flash'.

Then came my first talk with the editor, the first time i disagreed with my boss, the first proud feeling of getting the job done and the first disappointing days.

I remember being introduced to Tom on a bright sunny morning. His enthusiasm for our job was so contagious he made me smile way too much, too long, too soon. I remember not thinking while we started going out together, not pretending it was a big secret but not sharing it with anyone either.

I remember the first time i felt like crying with rage at the paper and the first time i finally let go of the tears. The routines that saved the days but blackened many of my nights. The camaraderie with all that great, inspiring people. The anger at the stupidity of the few others.

After that first day at the newspaper, every time i went back to the building, returning from a holiday or a short break, i would instantly recognize that smell. It was the smell that told me i was 'home'.

Snap
I thought i'd share a few Barcelona moments with you, now that i have my trolley case back from those silly Iberia people. God, it's good to have my cosmetics bag back.

A souvenir
... from the land of fucked up ideas inflicted upon animals (and our eyes).

Confusing
There are many things i could tell you, such as the way i'm feeling these days, or how i missed my plane back from Barcelona and Iberia lost my lugagge.

I can say the city was wet with rain and cold with wind, that my long walks didn't give me that much of perspective after all. There were some great moments, though. It's just not the trip i had expected.

My last day at work is next Sunday. Can you believe that? I certainly can't. It's going to be so hard. But i won't talk about that. Not today. There's too much confusion around me right now. I'm sorry for the lack of details, but i felt i had to say something, even if i sound this dazed...

Diving into action
I think it has happened. I think i'm leaving. Quitting this job for a whole year. Perhaps forever. I think this is going to be good. And everything is about to change really fast. Thank you for the great vibes you've sent me.

It looks like my next world is going to be wet and blue. An upcoming summer of meetings, phone calls and huge smiles. I, who always fancied myself in a power suit with a briefcase and laughed. Me, the sport hater. Me, the shy girl trying not to giggle in the corner. I can't wait for the next step.

And now i'm going. I need a few days off to clear my mind. Fascinating Barcelona is waiting for me. That should be good, too.

The Five keep the beat

1. What was the first band you saw in concert?
David Bowie, the Duke. It was the Glass Spider Tour, spring 1987.

2. Who is your favorite artist/band now?
Right now i'm listening to a lot of Eminem, Belle & Sebastian and Red Hot Chili Peppers.

3. What's your favorite song?
I love 'Lose yourself'. I could play it all day. In fact, i do.

4. If you could play any instrument, what would it be?
I picture myself playing the piano because learning guitar would be too hard for a left-handed like me.

5. If you could meet any musical icon (past or present), who would it be and why?
I'd like to be real palsy-walsy with some freaky star such as Björk or Sinead O'Connor.

Things may change



You never know. Things might start changing around here. A little swifting of routines, a slight novelty in the horizon... I will most certainly keep you posted as of tomorrow.

Cling on to the good moments
Sometimes we all wake up feeling the day shouldn't have started at all.

Sometimes you just don't want to know. We always lose the good ones.

Again and again.

I don't feel like going into one of those intense moments where i try to share my grief with you and i end up spilling far too many useless emotions, so i'll change the subject.

I figure it's always better to cling on to the good moments in life: i've made a list of my favourite ambivalence posts, which is a bit like summing up my best moments of the past year.

There you go.

(*)
Is that you?
The boy was wearing a suit and a ponytail. He had to say my name twice, and then his own, before i placed him. We were at his father's funeral but we hadn't seen each other in what? 18 years? His eyes were red and he was shaking a little, but he was still the sweet looking boy who dressed in a Superman suit when he was five.

I saw his mum the following day. I remembered the hippy summer in the island. Was that really 1979? I recalled the beach-bar where we had our lunches, the bugs i loved killing and the eight turkeys that lived in the back of the house.

Over those memories lingered the last time i had seen his dad. How i had bumped into him on the street and he had given me a big hug. He showed me his studio ('it's two blocks from here, come and see what i'm working at') and he asked about my mother. Then, 15 years before, i pictured him sitting on our couch, narrating a scene from 'Lethal Weapon' with more enthusiasm than Mel Gibson.

I might see the boy again today, for lunch. I like to think we're going to get in touch again from now on.

(*) The picture is from that summer at the island. The boy and i are on the extremes of the group. Such a beautiful photo.

Wherever i lay my five, that's my home

1. How many houses/apartments have you lived in throughout your life?
Nine. I know. I can't believe it either.

2. Which was your favorite and why?
My favourites are the one we had in Las Rozas (so big, sunny and cozy) and our last apartment in the centre (music, colour, friends).

3. Do you find moving house more exciting or stressful? Why?
I find it extremely stressful, but the decorating part is really exciting.

4. What's more important, location or price?
It's not who you are, it's where you like to be seen. The spot is vital, darling.

5. What features does your dream house have (pool, spa bath, big yard, etc.)?
My dream house is a loft in a big city such as this one. It would have big rooms, high ceilings, a high-tech kitchen and a great cleaning person who'd prevent my mess.