I miss you

And true,
it may seem like a stretch, but
Its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
Head when you're away when
I am missing you to death

When you are out there on the road for

Several weeks of shows and when you scan

The radio, I hope this song will guide you home

It just happens that I miss you, a lot, not a little bit, just tons, more than I can describe. I hope you keep on reading me, and understanding me, every single bit of what I am. Chilangolandia, here I come, and new surprises, friends, memories. But lola said it, you're inside the glances and the feelings, you're here, seeing what I see, liking what I like, crying and laughing. Cos I don't shine if you don't shine.

my oh my

Retrospective lists are supposed to take place in the blogsphere during the month of december, highlighting the best moments of a year, memories, experiences, everything that you leave behind, traces and dreams. My year began the 31st July 2006, when I stepped off of that italian train towards Milan, after Chambéry, after Grenoble. Grenoble aka Greno...

The kids - Jardin de Ville - Converse - Galletitas de sopa! - Cremaillère cours berriat - Songs - Lou Reed - Ziggy Stardust - Préfecture - Beatriz y los cuerpos celestes - CUEF - The crappiest halloween ever - Neige - Camilo's Moustache - Les inrockuptibles - Pierre Lapointe -chez les francocanadiennes - Chartreuse - Commencer encore une fois - Architecture in all its modalities - Argentinian-mexican dictionary - Gym - The first beer in la table ronde - Elliot's birthday - The huge elephant in the cushion - Pothead nights - Cache cache - Rayuela - Loco Mosquito, Sole and the endless rain - Little Mj at Isra's - Kristen's toilet (don't ask, hehe) - Placebo at Lyon- Christmas, the wine and the 28 year old men - Angel wings - Hang overs - El santo colombiano - Tiles with smiles - Bonjour tristesse - New year's eve - Haircut with kitchen scissors - Scarves - Letters - Wicker Park - La foire - Kebabs - Patinoire - Pa'rriba, pa'bajo, pal'centro, pa'dentro - Mes amis - The killers pick - Montmartre, scared lola and tan - Greno, drunk lola and tan - iPod - Cerbére - Telephone cards - Argentinian guy - Bukana soirées - Piñatas - Feux - Mac, le seine et le bague - B1 - swedish songs - samba - Foyer - pelouse magique - Banquet.

No cualquiera vive en Greno

It doesn't matter what happens next, here the facts, the feelings, goodbyes doesn't exist.

currently listening: By the monument - Maximo Park

Yoli.

En su bolso esconde una peluca
unos calmantes y una navaja
pinta un maquillaje deslucido
no durmió bien, no durmió nada
la llamaran: narcocorrido, la llamaran: yoli.

random thoughts

When I woke up, Alinka was there, next to me, telling me everything... And at one point she stared, smiled and said "You're really lucky". How could I be lucky after throwing up for ages in front of the argentinian guy? How could I be lucky with the worst hang over ever???

She said it, I'm lucky because I have friends, because in this lost city in the middle of nowhere I've met awesome people, because they care about me, they hug me and they even wash my pucked socks!!!! If that ain't love, I don't know how could we call that.

And I absolutely needed that, Feux spitted in what was left of my will, I could use the french word écraser. Sometimes literature kills me with the smoothest touch.

I'm leaving grenoble in less than a week, I'm meeting my daddy, we'll be breathing the parisian clouds...

My heart, I won't let it go, not this time, as Youcernar said, hearts are something dirty, anatomy lessons and butcheries.

Good luck to all the poor people who did the UNAM exam again, mes meilleures voeux!

(su perfume casino, la alejo de Portofino)

I know she isn't argentinian, but still gorgeous (like my two gorgeous argentinians) Enjoy the video. If you want the translation, don't hesitate in asking me tex.

Manu, tu distorsionas y vuelves a armar mis esquemas juveniles.

T'as compris petite cerise?

Yo ya no soy un puto pony.

Je ne suis pas un petit poney de merde.

I'm not a fucking pony.

(Leer a Marguerite Yourcenar me llena de rabia y contradicciones, historia o no historia? pasado? It always leaves scars, books, that is what I'm talking about)

Jealousy.

After pressing the "purchase" button, I discovered how much Tex loves me...

For more information please go to www.aclfestival.com

Now I just need to find a flight... :)

The corner of the sky

Le petit mouton noir dans un ciel etoilé

Créativité en mouvement... toujours jusq'à l'instant

Et des rues, et des noms, des bruits et des étincelles.

De la magie attrapé dedans pièces d'art contemporain...

Et Paris, le haleine bohème, en chaqu'un de ses trottoirs,

le repaire des âmes solitaires,

l'impulsion irréflechi...

Au coin de mon coeur, entre la foule matinale, un chuchotement,

long,

tranquil,

plein.

Comme ma tante dit, "une raffinerie".

La raffinerie la plus belle du monde.

(I stole the pic, but once I find mine, I'll change it, Mine is way much better, lol)

Currently listening: Paris 2004 - Peter, Bjorn and John :)

Education Française

Canibalism.

La nausea se mira y se sonrie, se pavonea y ve a aquel ser morir lentamente, le tiende la mano, podrida, promete ayuda agonizante y estafadora, despues se la revienta y lo manda a la chingada.

I'll try to translate it, just cos I love you tex... But dont blame me if it doesn't mean the same...

Nausea looks and smiles at herself, all full of herself, watches that being die slowly, she hands her rotten hand and promises agonizing and swindler help, then she bursts it and tells him to go fuck himself.

(haha, I didn't do it, Sofria helped me, thanx sofria!!!)

Currently listening: Vicious- Lou Reed

Help Wanted

I've always said that things don't happen just because, there is a hidden reason behind every action, every fact and every meaning...

This story began in April 2007; in London, England

Isra saw it. He asked for my camera. We kept on staring at "it" for about 5 minutes.

After that, I couldn't scape. But at that time I didn't know that.

I did not remeber it until I saw this, right in Centre Ville, here in Grenoble, between Place Victor Hugo and Chavant. This happened two weeks ago.

And this weekend, it came to me as a trinity:

(these 3 last appearances took place in Paris, next to Les Halles)

On Sunday, once I was back in Grenoble, I saw Isra again. I told him everything, and he said that one of his friends told him that it is a conceptual japanese artist who creates this peculiar characters. But still we don't know who. While we were waiting outside the cinema, we saw this one:



It has been almost two months since I had my special first encounter. And I keep on wondering why, is it just random coincidence? Was this meant to be? I cant help not smiling, I feel more than special, tile signals coloring my path.

If someone has heard about this before, I would be really appreciate any kind of information, thanx.

fluo kids

The current favorite video.

[I'm feeling weird. Weird thoughts. Predictable feelings. Touchin' the grass.]

Oh! How I love you!

So... the final countdown begins, who will wear the hat?

I used to have 4 little turtles,Violetta, Krystal, Pig and Shaun. I used to eat tons of candy corn in Jorge Luis's office. Lets imagine it's a countdown to get into the past were everything has changed in a quite radical way. Where I won't be living in my "smells like turtles used to live here" room, a life in which I won't go back to the same routine, no more uniforms or Calculus tests, no more graduation things, no more nuns, for God's sake! I know that is gone by now, I'm aware of it, and I wouldn't like to go back to those times either, it's over, facts are already faced.

It's so strange, you know? Suddenly you look at things in a very different way, you appreciate more the fact that you have friends here and there, you try to save everything, even the little chips, because you know you won't see it again... at least not like it is now. There's this song by The Thrills, "Santa Cruz", in which they say: (wait, just a funny fact, right now while I was looking for the lyrics I found out that what I wanted to quote is not in the song! So in the beginning I thought "Oh crap, my english sucks!" but after I listened again to my Santa cruz song and voilà, there it is, what I wanted to write! I don't have the slightest idea of why I have this weird version, but still I think it is better that the normal one) mmm mmm So, as I was saying:

Villains come and villains will go/ but hero's name is set in stone... Are you gonna be still writing songs for me?

I'll keep on writing songs, storing stones, remembering eyes and eyelashes, breathing dawns and killing sunsets. My city, my friends, my babies, my adoptive parents, my dreadful french, my crushes, my tears, my scars and wounds, my thoughts, the beloved ones and the ones who already left. My Loco Mosquito and the eternal beers. The argentinian accent. Madness about architecture (and architects) The poems I never wrote. The empty canvas. Painting somewhere else.

Am I ready to go back? J'espère ma petite, j'espère...

Currently listening: C'mere- Interpol

Santa Cruz - The thrills

Little Sister- Jewel

Twenty Years- Placebo

grève

Por ciertos motivos, el dia de hoy he decidido dejar de escribir en ingles y volver a mi modo de expresion regular, un chilango puro con ciertas intervenciones y galicismos que se me pegan por mi actual ubicacion. Y ademas 2 de mis 4 lectores se manifestaron o al menos se vieron "sorprendidos" por el repentino giro lingüistico de este medio. Y no quiero lectores inconformes, jajaja.

Comienzo a sentir que es el inicio del fin. Y si, tenia que llegar. Un monton de frases cursis se me amontonan en el cerebro, un deseo de exprimir eso que pulula en mis neuronas de cuando en cuando. Todo termina, como es que algo realmente comienza. Nada tiene extremo, todo es una masa, vapor de sueños, sonidos incandescentes que provocan reacciones quimicas y demas cosas raras dentro de los estomagos. Un dia me dijeron que esta es una vida de despedidas. Despedidas de que o como? Estamos en constante evolucion, cada uno con su propia percepcion. Que sigue?

Salgo de la casa, arreglada y con ganas de ver a mis amigas. Bebemos un poco, llegamos al antro. Bailamos, conversamos, tomamos fotos. Que sigue? Y a que corresponde este deseo? Inmortalizar una noche de un antro mediocre, Grenoble en jueves.

La ultima clase de frances oficial, con todas las demas au pairs, sentadas en el pasto y cantandole burdamente "Las Mananitas" a la pequena suèdoise. Sus 20 años. Yo estoy a punto de cruzar esa linea. Que tan trascendental es cumplir un año mas? Que sigue?

Catherine sentada junto a mi, volviendo a contar la historia de su vida, se notaba la nostalgia en el pitch of voice. Cuando tenia 20, queria ser maestra de filosofia en la Sorbona. Termino dando clases de frances como lengua extranjera en Grenoble. Dejo su pasion -la filosofia- porque la empezo a consumir lentamente, el pensar la estaba matando y tomo otro rumbo. Jorge Luis. Fue lo unico en lo que pude pensar.

Y llego a un punto en el cual todo se pone en perspectiva. Y vuelvo a cuestionar que es trascendental, que no lo es, me lamento por no haber leido algo bueno en los ultimos dos meses, me pregunto que se sentira ver a Mac la proxima semana, a la vez me da emocion y miedo, pero un miedo agradable, de esos que te dan ganas de sentir. Una cancion mas.

Yo no siento que la vida sea de despedidas, quiza y si, pero estoy en proceso de negacion.

El final llega cuando se olvida. Cuando ya no lo podemos cantar porque olvidamos las lyrics. Cuando la tonadita se escapo. Cuando te das cuenta que ya encendieron todas las luces.
Y cuando



No hay nada mal, no hay, no hay, no hay, no, no, no, no..... ,,,,,, !!!!! ???????

Currently listening: Katatonik- Los dynamite

Bad luck

Laughing so hard

El Loser: "Tranquila, no muerdo... bueno, solo si quieres que te muerda!"

Lola: "No, gracias"

And that was the end of our monday night (two weeks ago), Lola keeps on thinking that I'm the one who brings her bad luck, specially when too many losers come around.

:El mordelon, jajaja:

Want another prove? The smiley face loser!

We're Fanssssssssssssss!!!!!

Somewhere else

And that is just how I feel tonight! It happens from time to time, who will save my soul this time?

Situaciones pte. 2

Dancing in our Kitchen, with Xavi and Benja, Lorenzo some nights... Beer, red beer and fernet, chartreuse and... your fucking argentinian cigarrettes, how could I forget about it? That was your surprise, but in Xavi's handwriting, it's really sad that "La Poste" lost your letter, hope this makes you happy. Do you remember the french girl that spoke argentinian? hat was her name? Noemi? jajajaja

Des nouvelles les filles!

My week started in a very strange way, 'cause it never really started. All the clocks stopped, here in Grenoble, in Barcelona, in Mexico City, everywhere. Time became an useless fact while we were talking until 4 am, drinking one more beer and listening to one more song. We had rainbows in our nails. That is what I call friendship.

: happy drunkies, monday night :

The 2nd of may is the Official Placebo Day! Well it isn't THE official date, but it is the one one that they mention in their lyrics (for further reference, http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/placebo/thebitterend.html ) So, everyone,

HAPPY PLACEBO DAY!

: Placebo, 21 nov 06, Lyon France. Courtesy of Keritsu:

As most of you might know, two days ago took place the debate between Segolene Royal and Nicolas Sarkozy, the two french candidates for this year's french elections. What I saw didn't matched my idea about a debate in which you have certain time to discuss about a subject and that's it. In here they were shouting, answering whatever they wanted to say instead of following the line they were supposed to. In my host mother's words, "Ségo, she lost it", she totally lost her selfcontrol and she called Sarko "a liar". And I thought that could only happen in Mexico).

Lets just wait for the elections on May 6th.

Segolene, yo tambien estoy contigo!

Highlight of the week: You know the end is near when Barbie doesn't fit in her clothes anymore.

Have a nice weekend everyone! And I'm waiting for my comments!

Currently Listening: Sitar Folks - Peter, Bjorn and John

Casan (no puedo bloquear lo que puedo dar) - Javiera Mena

Ruby Tuesday

Que bonito es poder creer que nuestras decisiones se rigen por casualidades. Por canciones que escuchamos un instante en la radio. Por vitrinas y expresiones delante de nuestros ojos. Por escritos y posters entre las calles de tu ciudad. Por hacer tuya una ciudad que no lo era, que nunca pensaste que lo podria ser, que ni siquiera sabias que existia.

Que bonito y que inocente es analizar todo desde el aire, donde podemos tornarnos de otro color, tener alas y ojos de unicornio. Jugar a la fantasia y el esmalte de uñas multicolor. Pequenas lagrimitas celestes que se fragmentan creando arcoiris de expectativa, que a veces no aparecen y nos dejan esperando.

Que bonito es cuando se puede dormir en otro mundo, poder despertar cuando te plazca y seguir soñando, saberte equiparado de una manera extrañisima, sonriente y radiante, fresco. Poder oler tu propia piel despues de pasar horas entre pasto y sol. Beber no solo una cerveza y sin embargo conservar el "golden touch". Poder reirte de personas que uno no conoce, captar la dulce ironia de la cual careciste durante un periodo de dias indeterminado, por fin alguien la agarra y es inevitable no agradecerlo.

Que bonito es crearte etereo, disfrutar cada minuto, una vision diferente en un tiempo detenido, una estrofa, el "pitch of voice" dentro de esa melodia especifica, los recuerdos y las personas en comun, los desaparecidos en alma y carne, la impotencia herida y la distancia, kilometros de labios salados, recuerdos, demasiados, pero tambien una nueva tanda de ellos.

Que bonito es que la niña herramienta atraviese pais y medio para beber agua alpina, jugar con los malabares y compartir pedazos de vida con la niña medicamento falso.

Que bonito es pensar que pudo haber sido tan rapido, tan lento, tan grande, estruendoso, discreto, ambiguo, real, directo y bizarro. Una bolsa llena de vidrio moldeado, un gadget musical y muchas ganas de hablar hasta las 4 am. Catch your dreams before they slip away, dying all the time. Lose your dream. And you will lose your mind.

Quien prometio lograr que el blog se hiciera mas comprensible?

Currently listening: The Kooks - Ooh La (acoustic version)

Situaciones

Si yo fuera Olallo Rubio, ella seria mi argentini, no hay pierde. Tambien me recomendarias ir a Palermo? Es cierto que se parece tanto a la condesa?

Leanla (el link esta en mi Banquet), es mi boluda predilecta, escribe cosas sobre mi y lo dificil que es llegarme a comprender. Che, vos sos mas dificil!

Cuando es que los limites superficiales se rebasan para entrar en contacto con el especimen del crimen,

la angustia amoral, amoreteada y amontonada,

los susurros, merengues y caminatas a un mirador,

alguna vez se preguntaron porque la gente miraba con normalidad un teatro con ventanas e inquilinos?

Canciones y platicas, yerba, pasto y sueteres, muchos, un chingo.

Un sueño, colmado de pequenas plumas que caian de la tierra, gotitas de lluvia sobre los ojos, historias y visiones.

Anhelos.

Che, lo que daria porque volvieras.

Pero aqui estas, entre paginas y sonidos. Situaciones Sole, solo son situaciones.

Dimanche

Apenas voy asimilando todo lo que sucedio este finde. Me enderezo, respiro hondo. Sigo sonriendo porque de esos detalles esta hecha la vida. I was brave enough.




Si, estoy feliz con lo que hice.

Escuchando Snow Patrol y tratando de volver un poco, dentro de mi concepto de felicidad, es lo que hablaba con C. el otro dia, para mi lo mejor que puede suceder es estar tirada en el pasto, sintiendo el viento en las yemas de los dedos, con mi ipod y un buen libro. Anyway, no era a eso a lo que queria llegar. (Quiza si). El punto es que hay un limite que rebasa el pasto, y nadie lo dijo mejor que Chasing Cars...

(Hyde Park, 2007)

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Voilà.
Lo unico malo de este domingo fue la mañana. Alguien me paso Monitor con Ximena Sariñana, y no se por que lo hizo, ni a que le tira mandandome esas cosas que solo me deprimen. I'm stuck between Bloc Party and Volovan. Pero el Jardin de Ville y las historias de Isra todo lo pueden :)


La moraleja es que no hay moraleja, Nuvoletta disfruta tu concierto de Snow Patrol!