tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153714092024-03-13T23:13:01.673-06:00Ness and FilomenaVanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.comBlogger157125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-34588863126938870402007-03-03T10:05:00.000-07:002007-03-03T10:24:47.289-07:00Somebody's idea of a joke?With G. away, I watched several episodes of The Agency on VH1. It is an absolutely horrible reality show about modeling agents and the models they hate, I mean, represent. All the agents are mean, critical, superificial people who berate these young girls to keep them "hot" in the business. And they are really <em>young </em>girls so they are kind of dumb (like teenagers tend to be--except me, I wasn't dumb ;). The models have such tall, lanky bodies that it is easy to forget they are teenagers. Since they act like teenagers, meaning they don't eat right or go to the gym like they should, the agents pester and insult them in hopes of bullying them into cooperating. One agent is a British woman whose insults are delivered in a crisp accent, which makes them sound a lot meaner (another example, Simon Cowell on American Idol).* The show is unpleasant to watch and I will not watch it again.<br /><br />I think The Agency has one wee bit of value in that it shows that anorexic/bulimic models exist in large part because of the fashion/modeling business. So trying to address the connection between women's negative body images and the trend of super-super-skinny-bony models has to focus on the fashion/modeling industry itself. That sentiment isn't necessary groundbreaking--it does make the task so much harder.<br /><br />So what is somebody's idea of a joke? An ad warning about the dangers of anorexia/bulimia aired several times throughout this show. So is The Agency supposed to be entertainment or a cautionary tale? It should not be both.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*Do certain phrases sound better with an American accent?</span>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-8138794734862109742007-03-02T22:06:00.000-07:002007-03-02T22:25:22.228-07:00Uncle ??I'm feeling a little lonely these past couple of days. G. is busy with a conference and besides that, we're not alone, there's a Houseguest (a rather pesky Houseguest, in fact; a Houseguest who likes to drink and stumble about and who we find peeing in our bathtub, but otherwise can be quite charming and endearing. But who can forget the peeing?)<br /><br />Whenever G. is preoccupied with something, I entertain myself. I eat out alone, read almost an entire book in a matter of hours, watch TV shows G. would hate. But then all that gets boring and I miss G. There's no denying how much time we spend together. So, I start to feel lonely and sorry for myself, which is never good for a temperment like mine. Luckily, before it gets too deeply pitiful, G. comes back to me and all is well.<br /><br />Something that is in the back of my mind these days (and all the extra Me-time brings it to the forefront) is the fact that I'm a jealous person. I'm not jealous of material items (example, I really do not want the expensive purses that are so popular these days). I'm more jealous about people who seem to have companionship or can rely on somebody to do the hard stuff for them(example of "hard stuff," making sure my car's oil is changed). It is silly because I have tried so hard to be independent enough that I can easily do the "hard stuff" and I don't expect G. to do it for me. I'm not intimidated to take on something--and that should make me feel really good. Yet sometimes it doesn't.<br /><br />I had a friend who used to joke that she wanted a wife along with her husband. Someone to pick up the extra slack (do the wash and food shop) while she went to grad school and her husband worked full-time. In my case, maybe I need a really helpful uncle.<br /><br />The extra Me-time has me making up family members. That's a little bit pathetic.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-23393480810833596082007-02-18T20:40:00.000-07:002007-02-19T19:42:39.086-07:00I just finished a book and listened to three super cds and watched an awesome soccer documentary. And I just HAVE to tell you about them all.<br /><br /><em>Once in a Lifetime</em> is perfect documentary to watch in light of the recent uproar over Beckham and MLS. The doc tells the story of the amazing and unexpected success of the New York Cosmos. The Cosmos were part of the North American Soccer League who floundered until they signed up Pele and a bunch of other well-known European soccer players. In their prime, the late 70's and early 80's, the Cosmos filled up Giants stadium to capacity with screaming, soccer-lovin' AMERICANS. So Americans will watch soccer <em>if</em> the likes of Pele, Franz Benckenbauer, Carlos Alberto, and Giorgio Chinaglia play. Well, who wouldn't?! Unfortunately, it took a lot of money to bring those players over, so the NASL eventually went caput. Mismanagement and overexpansion hurt them, too. Hopefully, MLS won't make the same mistakes.<br /><br />Now on to music, I've been listening to three super cds--Lilly Allen whose lyrics are quite cheeky and Los Abandoned and Go Betty Go, both punk bands from LA. The last two have awesome Latina singers. The songs are catchy and great lyrics, too! I don't ever buy CDS--truth be told, I'm cheap when it comes to purchasing cds. I don't download either (legally or otherwise), so it is a big deal for me to shell out the money but it pays off when I love the music.<br /><br />Finally, I finished the fourth installment of the Maisie Dobbs mystery series. I don't read mysteries, but this series is based in London during the interwar years. Maisie has a whole backstory involving class issues (humble background, she was "in service" when her employer discovered she was brillliant and sent her off to school) and World War I's legacy on the British (Maisie was a nurse in France where she was injured. Her fiance was also in the war, but never recovered from his injuries and shell-shock). She is also struggling to be an independent woman balancing career and a personal life <em>and</em> her lingering war trauma. All of her cases highlight some aspect of how World War I basically destroyed a generation. Although it may sound a little history nerd-ish, they are excellent novels with mysteries.<br /><br />So I've left the wallowing aside for a bit--Valentine's Day chocolate helped.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-90510412327159105752007-02-15T21:52:00.000-07:002007-02-15T22:21:45.829-07:00I am blob, hear me burpI've felt so sluggish this week--like really bad. It must be the food I've been mindlessly eating. These past couple of days, no, to be honest, it's been a couple of weeks, that I've indulged in the lower end of popular cuisine and desserts. Once my body gets used to eating food I didn't cook, it starts to crave it. Or I get lazy and don't want to eat anything I have to assemble. What, fresh foods in the fridge?? Yeah, HA, HA. Foolishly, I tried cooking a delicious homemade pizza on Monday. It burned. Gabe brought home fast food.<br /><br />Now, I'm being punished by feeling absolutely disgusting.<br /><br />Let's see what I can blame for this mood. There are the usual culprits: hormones (I am PMSing and it hit me hard this time), stupid people, angst that I'm not living up to my potential. And here's a new one: winter weather (I'm sure anyone reading this from the Midwest and East coast would like to strangle me).<br /><br />Spending a couple of hours laying on the couch like a beached whale hasn't improved the mood. I know saner minds would recommend working out, but too many (legitimate) chores and appointments have kept me from the elliptical machine. Friday and Saturday are out, too, because I'm judging History Day exhibits. To be honest, I'm not quite sure what that entails--fingers crossed that seeing a group of eager, ambitious, young high school students doesn't send me straight towards a milanesa torta (so goddamn good, yet so NOT appropriate right now).Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-48748659820018949622007-02-12T18:08:00.000-07:002007-01-29T22:18:24.218-07:00BabiesI got surprise news yesterday from one of my closest friends. We haven't lived in the same city for about five years now. For being old, close friends, we don't often talk or email. Maybe once a month a quick email or phone call to catch up on things. Still, she is one of my go-to people for instant reassurances, as a voice of reason, and for good 'ol cattiness and gossip.<br /><br />And now she's pregnant. First time and slightly unexpected.<br /><br />That news isn't shocking in the old-fashioned way--she's married a year, they dated and lived together close to nine years before that. It's just...wow. For me, this is a big moment, this is an actual <em>child</em> that will belong to somebody I stayed up drinking with until 6 am only a month ago. This is somebody who I can cite multiple examples of irresponsible behavior. Don't get me wrong, she is going to be a really great mom and the baby is going to be beautiful (sometimes they aren't, even though you aren't supposed to admit that). <br /><br />Like typical me, I can't help but feel a tinge of I'm-not-sure-what. It feels a little sad, a bit wistful. This news comes along with my sister's first pregnancy. There ARE more reasons for my mild melancholy, lest you think <em>I'm </em>longing for a little bundle of my own. This year marks my high school graduation's ten year reunion; I'm turning 29 in November; rather than contemplating life insurance, I'm filling out FAFSA and going back to school; and my parents have become Old People*. So, I'm fighting something that isn't new for me--considering what I am doing compared to what I <em>should</em> be doing at this age, in this stage.<br /><br />I've always had trouble living and enjoying the Now. It usually is a matter of worrying about the future, dwelling on mistakes, stressing about the details, preparing myself for the upsets. Yet something that is so wonderful as new babies just makes me want to sob. Am I being too sentimental (car commercials have been known to make me cry), or is it ok to allow myself to feel deeply instead of putting it away? Or is it all hormonal??? (I'm partially kidding about the last one).<br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">*Characterized by complaints, grumpiness, cheapness, and always feeling cold (among other things).</span>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-122051928253409962007-01-26T17:37:00.000-07:002007-01-26T18:34:52.569-07:00Lazy FridaySlept in a bit this morning before heading off to the gym. I haven't blogged much about my gym situation (or at least I don't remember blogging about it). I joined up last August and went semi-regularly last semester, then tried to make up for my laziness during the break, and am now settling into three times a week or so. I like going to the gym, even though it reminds me that I'm not happy with how I look now--that's a good-motivational thing, right? It hasn't had much of an effect on my weight <em>so far </em>(perhaps the result of my continuing love affair with brownies and pizza), but I'm trying to be optimistic. What I don't like about the gym is being confronted by exposed boobs in the ladies changing room. All kinds of boobs, just hanging out as their attached bodies put socks on or zip up pants, which makes me wonder why putting a bra on isn't their first priority over <em>pants??</em> Jesus, ladies, I don't want to see boobs on my way to hanging up my coat. Is this prudish of me? Was I supposed to be initiated into locker room boobs while playing sports in school? Well, it's too late for that.<br /><br />Class went well. G. and I had lunch at a local pizzeria (we ordered the delicious Four Seasons pizza with four differet toppings, green chile/ricotta, sun dried tomato and pesto, artichoke hearts and red pepper, and spinach and garlic. Yum). We sat next to a group of women who exuded Money. They were definitely Ladies Who Lunched: hair perfect, all wearing trendy boots with fur trim and otherwise fashionable, skinny, made-up, and easily slipping in and out of good Spanish and English-without-accents. I am fascinated by these kinds of women. To be clear, it is not admiration or envy. I don't want to be them. I just wonder how it <em>feels</em> to be so put-together and leisure-ly. I usually don't feel very put-together at all. I usually feel like my slip is showing.<br /><br />Afterwards, G. and I stopped by a cigar store that was next to the pizzeria where we encountered another fascinating--yet very different--woman behind the counter. She was super nice and friendly and wearing leather pants. I often connect leather pants to bikers and 80's metal hair bands. This woman didn't fit into either of those categories. We did not plan on buying anything, just curious about available foreign cigarrettes, but it was a small store and she was so nice...so we left with a pack of Dunhills. She joked about not wanting to sell us anything after we told her we were ex-smokers. Even with the purchase, G. and I have no plans on returning to the smoking world, although, truthfully, I have nothing but good memories. G. and I proceeded to relive those good memories. Dunhills on a cold day with a latte (mocha for G.)--it was just like when we started dating.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-33015890262065115932007-01-23T09:38:00.000-07:002007-01-23T10:00:04.088-07:00MomsG. and I are not morning people. We cling to every last possible second of sleep before fully accepting that sleep just isn't an option if we want a paycheck for work. Interruptions to our sleep are met with angry cries--usually those cries are "FILOMENA HUSH!!!" as she furiously and very loudly barks in the dead of night. Lately, this ridiculous exchange has been happening every night at 2:20 am. Including last night.<br /><br />Along with that interruption, my cell phone starts ringing at 6:15 am, very annoying since I had fifteen precious minutes of sleep until my alarm at 6:30. I didn't answer it, in protest. It was either a wrong number or my mother, both of which were unwelcome at that time. But then I started thinking, maybe there's an emergency, maybe my dad got into an accident on the way to work, or worse (and worse almost happened during Thanksgiving when my mom left a candle on in the kitchen and it caught fire). A couple of minutes later, G.'s cell phone starts ringing and now I'm sure it's an emergency and my mom was calling G. to get a hold of me (in case you're wondering, we don't have a landline). I find Gabe's phone, but the caller ID says it's his mom calling, so I give him his phone while I check my voice mail. Turns out both our moms were calling at that ungodly morning hour to tell us, "Look out the window, kids! It's snowing!" We looked out the window, then went back to sleep.<br /><br />The powers that be aren't canceling our classes. My college delayed opening until 10am (which meant I missed my morning class, yippee!), but G.'s is still open. We think they are being stubborn because they canceled Friday for snow-that-was-just-rain. Which is really dumb because today the snow has actually accumulated on our cars, medians, roads, etc, as our moms were nice enough to point out at the crack of dawn.<br /><br />Maybe our moms need to call the college presidents.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-83451235755071408642007-01-19T22:54:00.000-07:002007-01-19T23:18:35.085-07:00Free DayOur winter has gone through different stages: warmish-gee-is-this-really-winter? weather; biting cold, but sunny days; windy, cloudy, kinda cold days; and it's snowing!? days. The weatherpeople predicted that today and tomorrow were going to be the it's snowing!? kind of days. The forecasts were calling for 1-5 inches of snow, rain, sleet, ice, wind--just horrible kind of weather. They advised to buy food and water and fill your gas tank, so this was going to be the BIG STORM. In response, school districts started canceling school and city-county government offices started closing, too. G. already decided that he wasn't going to campus on Friday, but he does teach a Saturday morning class. I have a class at 1 pm Fridays; no big deal, but the campus is across town, a long way to drive in bad weather.<br /><br />The rain and wind started last night. It was a very unpleasant walk with Filo. More rain this morning, so UTEP and my college canceled afternoon classes. After several more hours of rain, I guess the newspeople thought the threat level had decreased, so instead of snow warnings, it was where's the darn snow?? WE WANT SNOW! SNOW IS NICE, NOT SCARY. Fooled us, I guess. Well, fooled me really. I bought two gallons of water, even though G. and I weren't really sure what buying water would protect us from--frozen pipes? sewer line breaks? snowed in cars? mass looting of grocery stores? In all of those cases, we're ready!<br /><br />The weatherpeople claim there is still a chance of snow tonight, but I think they're trying to let us down easy. The unexpected free day didn't amount to the completion of any real classwork. We hung up a towel rack and mirror, rearranged some frames on the walls, made white chili soup, and watched three episodes of King of Queens before I took an hourlong nap. I'm not <em>that</em> upset about my lack of initiative. Just a little upset because I didn't get to real important stuff. The stuff we did was sort of important--yet it also should have been completed during our vacation. Oh, fuck it-- I don't know if I'm just tired of beating myself up for <em>not</em> doing things or if total inertia has set in after an extended time home-- I'm through with this.<br /><br />As for the crown, I think it needs some adjusting. Dammit.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-27481863176909582212007-01-17T11:52:00.000-07:002007-01-17T12:03:20.182-07:00New SemesterThe spring semester started yesterday. So far, so good. They looked interested, asked questions, laughed at my jokes, participated in my "So What Do You Remember About American History?" activity (So what do they remember? Each class was different, but the trend was the American Revolution and Columbus. And nobody named any women until I prompted them). After the first lecture, I'll have a better idea of where we stand. Will I like them or despise them?!<br /><br />Tonight, G. and I visit our friendly dentist-across-the-border. I was already fitted for the crown; tonight, it will be installed (wrong word, but it sounds funny, yes?). G is getting his teeth cleaned for the bargain basement price of $25 (instead of $185). My crown will cost $180, a price I can very easily live with (I cannot live with the regular price of $900). I feel like I know this amazing secret and I'm stickin' it to the (Dental) Man-- ha! actually, I'm no genius for going to Juarez for dental work. Oh, well.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-53373579037308384282007-01-10T23:02:00.000-07:002007-01-10T23:42:15.177-07:00What I've Been Up To<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tPcO_g0926xBfbA7790wEMNwOHuLebP-uD4n_0Xq_YJPte2lttIycuGe-t2KVC9Dt5HJ-o5lwYovl144bbtSDdP1QeaQmboEatRZWlYKfkUOjtdIDCgwj1D77EOFbWau99OzaA/s1600-h/Digital+Camera+134.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018655162013888866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tPcO_g0926xBfbA7790wEMNwOHuLebP-uD4n_0Xq_YJPte2lttIycuGe-t2KVC9Dt5HJ-o5lwYovl144bbtSDdP1QeaQmboEatRZWlYKfkUOjtdIDCgwj1D77EOFbWau99OzaA/s320/Digital+Camera+134.jpg" border="0" /></a> 1. Snow came along a couple of days after New Year's. It fell all in one afternoon, and melted completely by that night. Better for Filo--she hates the wet.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg97zhKcvrEm9TSEB9UTt_lpO3IyxrwIlGhPdih1PfRhUQNWsTR6bPwpjz_fB1oSceQPurDestwCcpBrf0lwAEKlZukHy37g1PyZK-u4FTdIJARm_2f92iCtt2cJB-m_B_oZkPpQ/s1600-h/Digital+Camera+110.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018650098247446834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg97zhKcvrEm9TSEB9UTt_lpO3IyxrwIlGhPdih1PfRhUQNWsTR6bPwpjz_fB1oSceQPurDestwCcpBrf0lwAEKlZukHy37g1PyZK-u4FTdIJARm_2f92iCtt2cJB-m_B_oZkPpQ/s320/Digital+Camera+110.jpg" border="0" /></a> 2. Went to the Sun Bowl with my best buds. M. is from Missouri, so we cheered for the Mizzou Tigers. The Oregon State band was <em>awesome</em>, how else can I describe a band that played such a variety of songs like Green Day (Holiday), Twist and Shout, AND the El Paso song?? (You know which one, <em>Out in the old west Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican girl...)</em> I mean, really, What a way to win over the home crowd! The Tigers lost in the final seconds of the game. Super game, even if our nearest concession stand was run by bored ROTC guys who never had enough hot dogs.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGbUF7nDcYWHusoBUTisyJLQRN4x6IjApVujFImyi4hcC_xYzjA4YiF4mnQABGM6vBkE1o3XSvjoBBJUGZNeuVydAfiQulBfhnS0XRF3olYO5MdL6vPmACVIVlNjRFF7wK-GGaQ/s1600-h/Christmas+06+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018650106837381442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGbUF7nDcYWHusoBUTisyJLQRN4x6IjApVujFImyi4hcC_xYzjA4YiF4mnQABGM6vBkE1o3XSvjoBBJUGZNeuVydAfiQulBfhnS0XRF3olYO5MdL6vPmACVIVlNjRFF7wK-GGaQ/s320/Christmas+06+002.jpg" border="0" /></a> 3. Oh, aren't we cute? For all the grumbling and mini-pity parties (and I'm just speaking for myself), Christmas was perfect with everybody committing themselves to getting along and being nice and thankful. Part of 'getting along' includes playing a couple of bingo rounds with my professional bingo set (complete with ball cage!). It took some prodding among my family, but they had fun (even if my bro-in-law won each time). I tried to be all modest and I-don't-need-a-gift-from-G., but he was astute enough to see through that bullshit and got me a beautiful necklace which I adore. If wanting a gift from G. makes me shallow, then <em>fine</em> I'll accept that. Christmas is a special time, dammit.<br /><br />4. I spent most of last week watching VH1's non-stop marathon of America's Next Top Model. Crazy thing is by cycle 7, I actually started liking Tyra Banks. Sure, she looked like a drag queen by #7 and she's got an ego the size of Texas and there were plenty of cringe-inducing moments (ESPECIALLY when Miss J joined the panel--let's limit his/her's screen time, ok?!) and the show doesn't <em>really</em> produce top models HOWEVER...hmm, well, the show's redeemable qualities escape me now that I have some distance from Ms. Banks and her crew. I know there was something that reeled me in beside cheap dramatics/hysterics. Hmm...</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>5. Cleaning the apartment here and there and trying to get myself together before the semester starts next week. I attended a couple of workshops today about encouraging active learners and public speaking. Those tend to motivate--tomorrow is the big department meeting where we hear how registration numbers are up, up, up--unfortunately, our paychecks remain the same. Poo. </div><div></div><div>All in all, a great break, just the right length, just the right amount of nap, Filo, and G. time. Now let's have a fabulous 2007!!!</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-56950456165061460482006-12-21T11:44:00.000-07:002006-12-21T12:25:24.400-07:00Grumpsters<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3BGV7UpMlPoRO5d4pjDD3dxlYV7LfYkMmdjv97I2_uRq4kili6xobzt6jUz1_LgYpVhPPoobDe0ywBFU-hkJwv2EZn6yIpBm7nFNt9NOZ0rKIxuse1V6fxUgMjYOc7uiWEEOuA/s1600-h/ugly+tooth.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011062230811934306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3BGV7UpMlPoRO5d4pjDD3dxlYV7LfYkMmdjv97I2_uRq4kili6xobzt6jUz1_LgYpVhPPoobDe0ywBFU-hkJwv2EZn6yIpBm7nFNt9NOZ0rKIxuse1V6fxUgMjYOc7uiWEEOuA/s320/ugly+tooth.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I feel a bit grumpy this morning. I've been to the malls way too many times in the past few days fine-tuning Christmas presents for the family. My family's Christmas celebration is up in the air since the shingles outbreak. See, the big surprise that was to be revealed on Sunday is that my sister is pregnant (I'm really excited!! First niece/nephew for me!!). The problem is that we're not sure if my newly pregnant sister can be exposed to the shingles. Her doctor is doing some type of testing (I could explain, but it would take too long) to determine if she can be around the shingles. If he says no, then she won't be able to see my parents for Christmas--which would really dampen the holiday spirit. So we've got this really happy woo-hoo news alongside potentially sad news. On the up side, my dad is recovering and the shingles rash appears to be fading. I think they caught the illness early (cases can last several months to a year).</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>See that silvery thing in the not-so-flattering picture of my mouth? That is the temporary crown the dentist put in on Tuesday. The nice tooth-colored temporary crown popped out while I was flossing (good case for not flossing). I am scheduled to be fitted for a permanent crown next month at the cost of $900. YIKES, FUCK IT! Nope, I have no dental insurance (nor health insurance, knock on wood kids!!) So, since I can't live with the idea of spending $900 on anything other than a new sofa, plane tickets to Buenos Aires, or a mad-cap shopping spree (the last two only in my dreams), I'm looking to Ciudad Juarez to fulfill my dental needs. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>There are plenty of people who cross the border (both of them) to see doctors, dentists, and get prescriptions (although the last one is illegal). Earlier this year, I thought about getting the root canal done there. I would have saved soooo much money, however, I have an enormous fear of dentists who speak <em>English</em>, let alone any who speak Spanish. This time, it is just a matter of making a mold, fitting the crown, and making sure it is even with the other teeth. There should be no needles or drilling involved. I could do it, right? Just mix up some plaster of paris and wa-la! a crown. Well, I can't, but I'm pretty darn sure a competent dentist in Juarez can. No need to worry, right?</div><div> </div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-10478546574562980122006-12-17T10:54:00.000-07:002006-12-17T11:04:02.435-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrjzCL8aTkHEvaPiayj1ZBM4JbzvWrRakzFkLSRj_wJtJilxOpf8Vbqx7B3f6sEa2TSBO7DhLMS6JwZHiecjlEl_aRFnvzWD9GsZEo207WqfwLAm7j2pvKthfkShWW1OTHazTVA/s1600-h/filo_hoodie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009557549149322834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrjzCL8aTkHEvaPiayj1ZBM4JbzvWrRakzFkLSRj_wJtJilxOpf8Vbqx7B3f6sEa2TSBO7DhLMS6JwZHiecjlEl_aRFnvzWD9GsZEo207WqfwLAm7j2pvKthfkShWW1OTHazTVA/s320/filo_hoodie.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I had a post ready discussing how my parents are showing signs of their early-advanced age (what are the early 60's considered? Twilight years?). Then my mom called last night to notify me that my dad has shingles! Shingles?! What the hell? Seemed to come out of nowhere. My sister and I planned a nice brunch for my mom's birthday today, then everybody was coming over to my place to see the Christmas tree, have cake, there was even a big surprise (from my sister, not me). But with shingles--the plan's thrown out the window. I feel bad complaining about how the padres are acting all old. So here's a picture of a super-pissed Filomena who doesn't like her little hoodie one bit. </div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-22061887328156047172006-12-10T20:35:00.000-07:002006-12-10T21:16:46.324-07:00I'm all Done!Exams graded, final grades tallied and posted. Nothing feels sweeter than the end of a semester. Now I've got time for blogging and reading and decorating and organizing. Oh, yes, and sleeping. And I can't forget (although I try to) exercising.<br /><br />Here's a long overdue meme on Books:<br /><br />Book that Changed Your Life: This question is tough because so many books along the way have made an impact on me. My choice is The Babysitter's Club, a formulaic series for young girls akin to Nancy Drew. I loved this series in the same way as other girls loved their Sweet Valley High. I literally devoured these books as soon as they were available in the library or my parents gave in to my begging and bought them. They got me hooked on reading, a sort of gateway drug. Eventually, I got bored with the crappy plots and moved on to the classics, like <em>Pride and Prejudice (</em>one of my all-time favorites). The Babysitter's Club books changed my life because they made me the type of reader who will put <em>everything </em>down to finish a book, but also in staying the same, I moved on to bigger and better books.<br /><br />Book You've Read More than Once: There are lots that I go to for "comfort" reading, but one of my favorites is Margaret Atwood's <em>The Blind Assassin</em>. I forget how the mystery turns out in between sittings, so it remains an exciting read.<br /><br />Book to Have on a Deserted Island: Cervantes, <em>Don Quixote</em>. Why? I haven't read it yet; The unabridged version is pretty thick so it should last me awhile; G. loves Quixote (is writing his thesis on it, actually), so reading it will be like having him with me.<br /><br />Book that Made You Cry: Yikes, lot's of options here since I cry easily (seriously, sad commercials can get me going). The most recent that reduced me to a sobbing mess was Jonathan Safran Foer's <em>Everything is Illuminated</em>. Interestingly enough, I also laughed throughout.<br /><br />Book You Wish You'd Written: <em>To the Lighthouse</em> by Virginia Woolf. Beautiful, lyrical, amazing.<br /><br />Book You're Currently Reading: I just finished Ian McEwan's <em>Atonement</em>. Kind of a complicated plot, but still engrossing and ultimately very sad. Unrequited love, World War II, misunderstanding--need I say more? Last week, I read <em>The Emperor's Children</em> by Claire Messud. It is part of the post 9-11/New York City/what does it all mean? wave of books (<em>The Good Life</em> is another example that I enjoyed). Although I was unhappy with the ending, the characters were compelling<br /><br />Book You've Been Meaning to Read: I have a list of books and articles dealing with Latinos and museum representation. Does that topic seem like it came out of nowhere? I'll blog an explanation soon...There are a few interesting autobiographies and nonfiction histories in the library's "just released" section that caught my eye. I also want to find oral histories related to rock, punk, and pop music (will explain later). And I have plenty of fun reading planned, too.<br /><br />Any suggestions?Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-61430214011720279262006-12-03T13:37:00.000-07:002006-12-03T13:57:55.379-07:00The Day AfterWe went to a party last night. It was one of those work/Christmas-y type parties where everyone should be on their best behavior, but eventually degenerates into a confused, tumbled conversations and drink. This party was related to G, not me. That might have given me license (at least in my head) to drink just a wee bit more and become a wee bit loud. <em>And (</em>again, at least in my head but corroborated by G), quite funny. The highlight of the party was an ongoing ping-pong game in the back room. The passion shown in that cramped room, among round-robin type teams, impressed and entertained for hours.<br /><br />We met some very nice people who are involved in literacy programs among migrant workers. It's nice to be reminded that valuable programs like that exist. And cool people are doing good work in the community.<br /><br />Somewhere after leaving the first party for another location and finding myself devouring a hamburger in a tight booth, I got sentimental and called up one of my best friends who lives out of town. Being out and about doesn't happen too often (Filomena gives us guilt trips everytime), so when it does it reminds of earlier smoke-filled bar days I shared with A and S (and, after we became a couple, G, of course). I called their cell phone to leave a message because it was really late (late to the point of early, if you catch my drift). Then, big surprise, they called me back and I talked to A for a bit about their upcoming visit!<br /><br />If I were a spiritual type, I might believe that God gave me a free pass this morning on the hangover (as if she doesn't have other things on her mind). What really saved me from hangover hell was that delicious hamburger and fries. Why is the food you eat late-early and drunk-ish always the best tasting food in the world?Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-69577286094246397102006-11-29T23:38:00.000-07:002006-11-29T23:53:24.516-07:00Quick bursts of snow flurries came down as I drove home from class today. Snow to me is exhilarating. It won't stick--the ground is too warm. That's no surprise, this is El Paso after all. I hoped to have real, long lasting snow when I moved to Albuquerque, but it never really happened. I have snow memories from childhood--the little snowy hill next to my house in Kodiak that would still create a thrill with a sled, the bigger snowy hill down the street for bigger thrills, the delightful surprise of waking up to a white yard and driveway. I always felt invincible with snow boots and a snowsuit on. Something about all that extra padding.<br /><br />Two more days of classes, one week of finals and then sweet vacation time. I'm feeling worn down. Despite my vow to go to bed early, get those necessary eight hours of sleep every night, here I am, four months later, working into the late hours. I've heard that there is no such thing as being a "night person" and you can train yourself to be a "morning person." Unfortunately, I'm just not into that early morning bullshit. This is where G. would say we need to move to a country that starts their day later in the morning, just move the whole day ahead a couple of hours. Gotta look into that. I don't think Filo would mind one bit.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-72775394534776873892006-11-24T12:47:00.000-07:002006-11-24T12:56:54.901-07:00Birthday<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/3217/1876/1600/649239/birthday_filo_cake.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/3217/1876/320/22354/birthday_filo_cake.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I turned 28 a couple of weeks ago. G. had dinner, cake, wine, and a gift waiting for me as I got home from my evening class. That welcome contributed to me feeling pretty good about the whole birthday issue. Birthdays usually incite trepidation and crankiness, but not this year. I think it's because I have a plan for next year, career-wise. And the article is pretty much finished. Plus, the semester is about over. Nice things all around. </div><div></div><div>The cake was delicious (For all her lip-licking, Filo never got a slice)</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-1162582226248472732006-11-03T12:21:00.000-07:002006-11-03T12:30:26.273-07:00Stay TunedI miss blogging, but there are other more pressing things on my plate right now. I am tired and stressed and not fun. I cut my hair really short--sometimes it looks cute; sometimes, I think it makes the shape of my head look really oval. I recently got contact lenses and my first thought was that I look tired. My birthday is about two weeks away. I'm not excited, even if it does mean delicious cake is coming my way. Two days ago, part of a crown cracked and I have to replace the whole thing. But not for three weeks because my dentist is deer hunting. I want to see the film Marie Antoinette, even though I'm annoyed by Sofia Coppola, mostly because you know when she pulls any old sweater out of the drawer (even a ratty one), it's cashmere.<br /><br />So, I'm coming back. It might not be for awhile, though.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-1159331572245002002006-09-26T22:02:00.000-06:002006-09-26T22:32:52.303-06:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1422/1600/925%20007.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1422/320/925%20007.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />So much happening here. Here's the quick version:<br /><ul><li>Allergies slowing me down, along with PMS (oh, the bloating and hormone headaches suck)</li><li>My mullet-in-training will finally be chopped off this Friday. I can't wait! Sometimes a haircut feels so good. I'm going for supershort, gamine type hair-do. It's a gamble, but I've had my hair that short before and G. loves it. I'll post pics.</li><li>Something rather traumatic happened to a person I love dearly. Trauma that close has a disturbing effect because it doesn't hit you directly. I'm not really at liberty to discuss it in detail. She is handling it very well, which I'm so relieved to see. Personal challenges can inspire strength--or, worst case scenario, make you fall apart. Jesus Christ, life is hard.</li><li>I am procrastinating BIG TIME. Have you ever created a mental block against one particular errand, chore, activity, responsibilty, etc? And no matter how much you try to focus, this mental block prevents you from completing that errand until the very last minute? This is exactly my situation concerning a book review for my seminar. I'm in a funky situation with that class--I'm auditing it, so I don't necessarily have to do the work because I won't credit. But in my initial email with the professor asking if I could audit the class, there was an informal agreement that I would do the work. So I want to do the work and plan to do the work--except for this 5-page book review. I even missed class today-- in all honesty, it was 50% due to the book review and 50% due to coming to the aid to somebody in need (see above). The book review is still looming over me. Yep, it's late. I figure I've got until tomorrow night to email the prof with the review. By the way, I would NEVER extend it that long if I was taking the class for credit. Meanwhile, the mental block has me blogging and listening to Sirius radio online. </li></ul><p>I guess that's it. Back to staring at the keyboard and willing my fingers to type <em>something</em> coherent out. </p>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-1158259745674011812006-09-14T12:04:00.000-06:002006-09-14T12:49:05.826-06:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1422/1600/staying%20alive.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1422/320/staying%20alive.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Well so much for speed blogging.<br /><br />These past few weeks were really overwhelming. I feel only slightly less overwhelmed right now. Plus, today is Thursday, which in my mind, is practically Friday, so I'm moving into weekend mode. And, fingers crossed, my workload will allow a few hours of me-and-G. time this weekend. We need it.<br /><br />Adding to my busy schedule is my twice-a-week foray into Group Fitness, i.e. Cardio Salsa. The class is structured like a dance class, so we do fun cumbia-salsa-merengue type moves. This past Monday, we learned a new routine (or at least new to me) that was less Latin-dance and more jazz-hands and shake-your-booty. I love it, the moves are fun. It doesn't feel like I'm exercising and, slightly embarrassing confession here, I've always wanted to be a dancer. My family talks about how I was alway jumping and moving about as a kid. Now I love dancing at parties and doing silly moves with Filo in my arms (I doubt she loves that part as much as me), so this is right up my alley. I think I keep up pretty well considering I'm new to the class and never took a real dance class in my life. A group of women are really, really good. And skinny. Good dancers and skinny. Actually, what I try not to focus on is that all the women in the class are pretty thin. G. says I'm exaggerating. Boy, I wish I were. Even discounting the two gross-skinny older women (bone-thin, bump-into-them-and-watch-them-crack thin), everyone else is smaller than me. Another thing I try to not focus on are how those wall-to-wall mirrors make me look in my work-out gear. Looking back at me is an image that doesn't meet my mental picture of Me. I don't expect to look like a beauty queen while sweating. At the same time, I don't like the way certain areas seem...pinch-able (perhaps this makes no sense, bear with me)<br /><br />What all of this amounts to is that I'm trying hard not to let all the skinnies, muscular, athletic types who roam the Gym and my class intimidate me or make me feel bad about myself. So far, so good. I follow along the best I can and proceed to thrust my hips side-to-side and sashay corner-to-corner with <em>attitude. </em><br /><em></em><br />And by <em>attitude</em>, I'm referring to the John Tavolta up there OF COURSE. Actually, I'm more Finola Hughes than John Travolta. You get the picture.<br /><br />Also, I've seen Saturday Night Fever and Staying Alive more times than I'm willing to admit.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-1158001050897348452006-09-11T12:45:00.000-06:002006-09-11T12:57:30.923-06:00I'm procrastinating big time. I stopped by my mom's house this morning on the way home from class and it put a crimp on my morning momemtum. So far, I've watched a little CNN, read NY Times online, then trolled from site to stupid site. I <em>really</em> don't feel like working on lectures or reading; I'm only good for napping at this point.<br /><br />My head feels heavy after taking allergy medicine. The monsoon-rain has pretty much stopped, but we're still feeling the impact with millions of fearless mosquitos and late season allergies. Classic symptons plague me: itchy eyes and throat, runny nose, sneezing. Plus, I have itchy ears--this unpleasant itchiness deep down in my ear, a horrible sensation really because you can't reach the itch. It work me up last night. My mom thinks it might be ear wax.<br /><br />I installed the satellite radio in my car now and bought a new atennae, so I'm getting my Howard fix again. Today's show was a rebroadcast from the morning of 9/11. It took me back to the uncertainty and utter, complete sadness of that morning. I have avoided 9/11 memorial stuff in the past. I should have done the same this year.<br /><br />Yikes, sorry readers, today is all procrastination, sadness, and ear wax. Definitely a Monday.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-1157317822945376902006-09-03T14:51:00.000-06:002006-09-03T15:10:22.956-06:00Blogging in the 505*G. and I (plus 2 more) drove up to Albuquerque yesterday. This visit is not really a vacation because I have research to do for my article. I'm looking through my old research files and other sources for images and maps of the neighborhood I wrote the article about. Unfortunately, I'm not having very much luck finding recent images or maps. I also just spent a rather frustrating hour or so scouring the library shelves for a book and coming up with nothing. This has happened to me in the past, as if books purposely lose themselves whenever I need them. As a (n indulgent) sidenote, I looked for my thesis. I've got a call number all my own!!, but couldn't find that it either. Books hate me.<br /><br />Albuquerque is a cool, unique city. Last night, we ate a delicious meal at the Martini Grill (loads of ambiance) and had a drink at the best bar in the world, The Anodyne. This morning we ate at the famous (at least in these parts) Frontier restaurant where it's all about the flour tortillas and honey. Now, I'm sitting in one of my favorite coffee shops among kooky Albuquerqians who love their wire-frame glasses and extra laid-back attire. The weather is cooler, like fall has already started here, so everyone's wearing a mix of shorts, sweaters, tees and scarves. It does feel a wee-bit weird to be among so many Anglo Americans in one spot (Anglos are in El Paso too, of course, but they are more spread out).<br /><br />We witnessed another aspect of Albuqueque last night. Behind our hotel, practically outside our window, three police cars drove up to deal with some guy beating up a woman.<br /><br />I guess you gotta take the bad with the good.<br /><br /><br />*505 is Abq's area code.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-1157133278896288222006-09-01T11:23:00.000-06:002006-09-01T11:54:38.993-06:00Mind Over Body (the bad version)My mind and body don't get along very well. As a matter of fact, the mind often totally ignores signs the body sends. But the body gets revenge.<br /><br />Example: Last night, G. invited a fellow new grad student and his girlfriend over for dinner. They just moved from the interior of Mexico and are having a hard time adjusting (the university bureaucracy alone has been a nightmare). Plus, we are all salivating for our paychecks at the end of the month, so they could use a big meal (besides their reported diet of beans and rice). I got out of my evening class, they got out of their evening seminar, so dinner got to a late start. By the time we sat down, I was already slightly headachy from hunger and being tired. Nonetheless, a glass of red wine sounded really nice along with the lasagna, so G. poured me a glass. Everything moving along quite nice, headache at a bearable level, so I have another half-glass. For postre, we had one of my top dessert favorites, brownies with thick fudgy icing. Couldn't help myself, ate two small squares, even though I was full. It was around 1130 when they left and I still had to shower before bed, which left only about 5 1/2 hours for sleep because an evil spirit took over my mind last spring and agreed to 8 am classes every day of the week.<br /><br />In the span of three hours, I experienced 4 classic headache triggers: tired, then not getting enough sleep, red wine, and chocolate. Wait, I forgot to mention allergies and I'm on my period.*<br /><br />I woke up with an unbelievable headache. My headaches waver between cluster headaches, hormone headaches (thanks birth control pills!!), sinus headaches, and migraines. I think this one might have been a combo of all the above. Drag myself out of bed late. Slap on make-up while eyes water uncontrollably and the side of head feels like it's being pushed in by a vise. G. takes pity on me and feeds and takes out Filo, while I try to slurp down cereal and keep from moaning pathetically. It did cross my mind that I could cancel the class, but I only get ONE DAY for sickness or whatever (thanks EPCC!!) and it's the second week of classes. I've lectured with a headache before--I'll admit, it's not pretty.<br /><br />I manage to get to class, lecture for 45 minutes and make sense, and talk to a student afterwards. Then it hits me in the car: neausea. Luckily, I carry grocery bags in my car (thanks Mom!!), so no mess.* I make it home (across the city, 20 minutes, I must add) and stumble into bed for a couple of hours. My sure-fire headache cure is two Excedrin, a coke, and sleep.<br /><br />So now that I can process thoughts and sit-up, I'm left wondering what happened. Well, I know what happened because this is not the first time mind/body decided to go on strike. This morning was the body reacting to what the mind thought were great ideas last night even though it knows very well awful, horrible things could happen. Bottom line: listen, listen, listen. Can't we all just get along?!<br /><br />I'd like to blame society for teaching me that my body is an alien being to hate (i.e I'm so fat), modify (i.e. plastic surgery), and abuse (i.e. fast food). Sure, that's part of it. But I KNOW better.<br /><br /><br />*Too much information? Too bad.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-1157058111284681392006-08-31T14:53:00.000-06:002006-08-31T15:01:51.306-06:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1422/1600/nessfilomena.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1422/320/nessfilomena.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm afraid you guys might be disappointed--this may not <em>look</em> like a mullet, but there is length and shagginess. Let's call it a mini-mullet, or a baby-mullet, or how about a mullet-in-training??Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-1156907259539830472006-08-29T20:55:00.000-06:002006-08-29T21:07:39.550-06:00Hot NewsI think I'm growing a mullet. It still looks good in the front, but I'm worried about the back.<br /><br />Must make that appointment for a haircut!Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15371409.post-1156824509612109672006-08-28T22:03:00.000-06:002006-08-28T22:08:29.626-06:00Forget the System, Here's the SolutionIn my journey to get healthy (i.e. lose weight), I joined a gym nearby. It was a wee bit expensive for me--just another added cost that seems extravagant as I wait semi-patiently for my paycheck. But, oh, the health benefits. G. says that's what I gotta focus on.<br /><br />I go to Cardio Dance class, excuse, Cardio Dance "group fitness." The moves don't feel like exercising, which is exactly what I need to get my lazy ass off the sofa. Plus, it's fun. Really.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01664145061803593006noreply@blogger.com1