Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Meme

USING ONLY ONE WORD! It's not as easy as you might think!

Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on. It's really hard to only use one word answers.

1. Where is your cell phone? Home
2. Your significant other? Working
3. Your hair? Cropped
4. Your mother? Outwordly
5. Your father? Uninterested
6. Your favorite thing? Conversation
7. Your dream last night? Friends
8. Your favorite drink? Orchata
9. Your dream/goal? Success
10. What room you are in? Studio
11. Your hobby? Art
12. Your fear? Illness
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Alive
14. Where were you last night? Home
16. Muffins? Blueberry
17. Wish list item? Friendship
18. Where you grew up? Everywhere
19. Last thing you did? Dinner
20. What are you wearing? Underwear
21. Your TV? Samsung
22. Your pets? None
23. Friends? Few
24. Your life? Aloof
25. Your mood? Melancholic
26. Missing someone? Many
27. Car? Nope
28. Something you're not wearing? Pants
29. Your favorite store? Sanborns
30. Your favorite color? Blue
31. When is the last time you laughed? Yesterday
32. Who will resend this? Unknown
33. One place that I go to over and over? London
34. One person who emails me regularly? Lise
35. Favorite place to eat? Farrell's
36. Why you participated in this survey? Vanity
37. What are you doing tonight? iTunes

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Swine flu and the Moon

AOG, Madrid


Panic over. It seems that this year’s swine flu plague is just a lot of hype. Not to say this it is not dangerous, it is just that places like the UK are taking it all in their stride and are keeping their wits about them.

I’ve spoken with my sister in the UK and since swine flu has reached pandemic proportions, doctors are just prescribing paracetamol and rest. They cant be bothered, she says, to even diagnose swine flu.

You feel flue-ish? Take a pill”.
You sick luv? Stay at home... and take a pill”.

However, there are as of today, 840 people being treated for it in hospital there, according to The Guardian.

Gotta say, if the British aren’t panicking, there might be hope yet. Why? Well, they do seem to panic about everything else, so this can’t be too bad.

Proactivity!

A friend of my sister’s is trying to catch the flu now so that when he goes on holiday he may be able to travel. His girlfriend has caught it. As did one of the employees who work for my sister.

She did have to send the lady in question home and blitzed the office and workspaces afterwards.

Here on the homefront, my partner has begun a long list of countries we should not visit because of the flu.

Two top destinations are heading the list: Brazil and Argentina.

According to my partner and Spanish media, it is not wise to try and catch swine flu now, rather than in the Fall.


I think it is ironic that this week we are celebrating the 40th anniversary of man’s first landing on the moon back in 1969, and at the same time, here we are, knee deep in organic plague.

To say nothing about the lunar eclipse which has graced Asia for the first time in decades.

All in all, the world somehow manages to continue turning.

Monday, July 13, 2009

The running of the bulls in Pamplona

AOG, Madrid

Last week Spain witnessed once again the spectacle of the running of the bulls in Pamplona, so beloved of Hemingway. Have you read "The Sun also rises"? It occurs during the San Fermín festivities starting on the 7th of July of every year.

Unfortunately, this year there was another death. The first in 14 years.

This time it was a young man,
Daniel Gimeno Romero, 27 from Alcalá de Henares, just outside of Madrid, was one of more than a dozen people rushed to hospital after one of the most dangerous runs in recent years.

A video on the Cuatro television station website shot by an onlooker showed Romero on the ground and trying to scrabble towards the thick wooden railings that mark the edge of the course as the bull turned back on the runners.

As he sat up and turned around, the bull lowered its head and rammed a horn into the join of his neck and shoulder.


The animal, named "Capuchino" managed to pierce the poor guy's jugular with one of his horns. Spanish television showed the last minutes of this guy's life throughout the day. Sad.

Given the danger of the event, and the fact that many of the runners are drunken foreigners, I am truly surprised there aren’t more deaths per year. Fighting bulls are huge animals known for being bad tempered and ready to kill. Hence why they are bred.

I suppose that back in Hemingway’s time, the world he lived in needed things like this sort of event to make one’s life more interesting. Today, however, tradition aside, I’m not entirely sure why this is still going on.

To say nothing of bullfighting, which I am opposed to 100%.

This is what Hemingway wrote about it back in 1923:

... It was really a double wooden fence, making a long entryway from the main street of the town to the bull ring itself. It made a runway about two hundred and fifty yards long. People were jammed solid on each side of it. Looking up it toward the main street.

Then far away there was a dull report.

"They're off," everybody shouted.

"What is it?" I asked a man next to me who was leaning far out over the concrete rail.

"The bulls! They have released them from the corrals on the far side of the city. They are racing through the city."

"Whew," said Herself. "What do they do that for?"

Then down the narrow fenced-in runway came a crowd of men and boys running. Running as hard as they could go. The gate feeding them into the bull ring was opened and they all ran pell-mell under the entrance levels into the ring. Then there came another crowd. Running even harder. Straight up the long pen from the town.
"Where are the bulls?" asked Herself.

Then they came in sight. Eight bulls galloping along, full tilt, heavy set, black, glistening, sinister, their horns bare, tossing their heads. And running with them three steers with bells on their necks.

They ran in a solid mass, and ahead of them sprinted, tore, ran and bolted the rear guard of the men and boys of Pamplona who had allowed themselves to be chased through the streets for a morning's pleasure.

A boy in his blue shirt, red sash, white canvas shoes with the inevitable leather wine bottle hung from his shoulders, stumbled as he sprinted down the straightaway. The first bull lowered his head and made a jerky, sideways toss. The boy crashed up against the fence and lay there limp, the herd running solidly together passed him up. The crowd roared.

Everybody made a dash for the inside of the ring, and we got into a box just in time to see the bulls come into the ring filled with men. The men ran in a panic to each side. The bulls, bunched solidly together, ran straight with the trained steers across the ring and into the entrance that led to the pens.

I don’t think anything has changed.

In all, 15 people have died at the Pamplona event over the past century. The last fatal goring was that of 22-year-old American Matthew Tassio in 1995.


In case you are wondering, “Herself” refers to Hemingway’s wife, Valerie.