I once was a writer...

I don't particularly care for unsolicited advice - I think no one does. I do appreciate people who care enough about me to give me such unsolicited advice anyway, but they do it in such a polite manner that I feel as if I asked them to advise me. Like my friend H, who sent me an email regarding my name , or my friend J who sends me pics of what dress I should wear. I like that. I like that because they are both just saying what they think while fully respecting whatever I choose. My friend J also happens to have the same taste in dresses as I do, so her advice is much more like SOLICITED help. But then come the people who express their opinions in ways that make you want to kill them. Seriously. I am no murderer, but sometimes I can see why murders happen. Phrases that begin with, "It is so stupid to [insert MY personal opinion about the subject at hand]" seriously bring out the worst in me. Dude, I think, if you want to persuade me to think like you and to agree with...

What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet - right? But then, when remembering who you are, you need to know where you come from, or so said Mufasa. And both of those require your name. So your name is you . And changing your name changes you. Right? If a rose were called "violet" it would not be a rose. Yes? I don't know. I'm not even sure what side I'm arguing for. Or against. All I know is that right now I am faced with making the decision of what the heck to do with my name. My name is really long (last name, that is), because in Colombian culture people use both their father's as well as their mother's last name. It used to be that when women married, their name would be legally changed: They would lose their mother's name, keep their father's, and become "of" the husband. For example: my aunt was born Graciela Murillo Salazar. But when she married (a half a century ago) she legally became Graciela M...

I hate marketing. I hate it. I hate it -- because it works. You see, I'm getting married in seven months (yay me! Check out our wedding website ), and I need to do all the planning here in Germany for a wedding taking place in the Caribbean coast of Colombia. It does seem like a challenge, but I am an amazing planner and I can do it. Also, my mom and sister/Maid of Honor have it all under control. But, as I said, since I'm in Germany, there are many things I need to do online. So I have to rely on websites to kinda figure out what I want. Before I went online, I took advice from my good friend Hope (who also recently married) and closed my eyes and imagined my perfect wedding. This is what my perfect wedding looks like: At the beach, hopefully getting our feet wet while saying "I do", at sunset, with only our closest family and friends (so, no more than 20 people), drinking piña coladas and eating fish and coconut rice, listening to soothing background music a...

(This Pre-Christmas Post replaces the Monday post for December 26. Back to the normal Monday schedule on January 2, 2012) As you may already know (oh, come on, I'm sure you know), we have very large, illegal, guerrilla leftist movements in Colombia. We have tried to combat and defeat them for over 60 years, and we are slowly winning the war against them.. but we still have a long way to go. Before I go on, please allow me a little of your time to get on my soapbox and explain a couple of things. Listen, dude, we (Colombians) are not against leftist movements, like people (such as Chávez and his dictatorial regime, for instance) want to make you believe. We welcome the left, because we are well aware that without a left there can be no right, but rather meaningless unilateralism . Our nation was founded in 1810 based on leftist ideals. We, all of us, all of us Colombians, used to be leftist rebels who stood up against the Spanish monarchy. And we won. We understand and celebrat...

I'm not the God-fearing person I'm supposed to be. And I'm alright with that. Having gone to university in the US Bible Belt, though, I had my fair share of people trying to "save" me, which I appreciated. I mean, you have to really care about a person to want to save them from going to hell, right? I was lucky (blessed?) to have all those people around me, and am still lucky (blessed?) to have them put up with me and my agnostic ways after 10 years. The thing is, I don't believe in blaming nor accrediting God with everything. If something good happens (something over which you had some kind of control, like a good job offer or a raise or that your self-made dinner tasted delicious), then why should you claim that God did that? I mean, God surely gave you the talent to be the best you could be, and He (She?) even "blessed" you with strength and courage and whatnot. But there are certain things that YOU do for yourself. No one does them for you. At ...

Today's post is an exception to the normal Monday-publishing schedule because it is part of Blog Action Day 2011. I've always been complicated when it comes to food. People who know me only now (now that I am mature and grand and magnanimous) may *think* I am complicated - but I am the loveliest dinner guest, now that I've grown up. And I have my father to thank (I don't thank my father for many things, so you know this must be important). I believe in the "tough love" theory of upbringing. I believe in it because it works. It's not nice, it's not pretty, and it hurts a little - but it works. I had issues with food all along. I used to eat nothing but chicken. The story goes that we went to the beach one day to eat fish - what else would one eat at the beach? When the waiter offered all the varieties of fish available, I asked about the chicken. He gave me a weird look, but my mother was quick to interrupt: "Yes, please, she will have the chi...

We had the loveliest Skype-chat with Honey's sister and her husband. She's about 7 months pregnant and looks so cute and chubby, and her husband is so sweet: he talks to her belly and caresses it. They are such an amazing couple, such a real couple, such a successful couple. I envy them - in a good way. We're actually pretty good friends, the husband and I. We understand each other and our position as outsiders in what is a very close, tight-nit family that ALWAYS has a thought that must be shared and an opinion that must be voiced. Not to forget, they also hold the undeniable truth. But then again, I could very well be describing my family to an outsider, or more than likely, yours. Families are "interesting", to say the least. And all we can do is learn to love them in spite of themselves. So anyway, we were talking and talking, quatsching , like the Germans say. About the weather, about our dinner, about cost of living in Peru and Germany and Colombia... and ...

It's been 9 months. You'd think by now I'd have an idea of what goes on in the mind of a German when he/she speaks to me... at least by context, you know? But I still make some mistakes that make me question my language skills. A few weeks ago, I went on a road trip with Mr. and Mrs. Siedenburg. It was very nice, I got to know a new part of Germany, and we had a fun time in general. At some point during our road trip, I asked if I could eat the banana I had brought. After my operation, I explained, I must eat every 4 hours; I must not feel hungry. Mrs. Siedenburg said it was OK, but that we would be eating cheap little bread in a little while. "Cheap little bread?", I thought. Well, yes, I know the economy is bad, and I know we should save as much money as possible, and I know I don't have much money... but I can invite - I mean, I can pay for all of us to eat non -cheap, non -little bread. I mean, I don't want to pay 10 Euros for a little bread thin...

I guess one particular answer is that many couples were getting frisky during the summer months, and thus we have so many births this time of year. Seriously, only in my family: my mom, my sister, my uncle, two aunts, three cousins. But aside from the celebration of births, I also "celebrate" deaths, yet not as a happy thing. Just as a day to remind me how much I miss the people who are no longer with me. But then there are also the catholic holidays--gotta love us catholics--with our celebrations for a million saints. One in particular, whom we celebrate by drinking. Binge drinking. Extreme binge drinking. No wonder my sister has not spend a birthday sober for the past 5 years, since she and St. Patrick have their date in common. And then, since when did we start celebrating Carnival in March and not in February? Since when is Ash Wednesday in March and not in February? What is this overwhelming over-use of March? Also, March is supposed to be the beginning of Spring. Where ...