On foreign accents

When I learned foreign languages as a little girl, my teachers always complimented my accent. They told me I have a very good American English accent, an awesome French accent, and an ok Italian accent (Italian is my fourth language, and definitely not my best; I don't quite like gesturing while speaking too loud, haha). I always thought it was a gift to assimilate the accent so quickly.

In my time in Vegas, I associate a lot (during weekends and breaks, almost daily) with my Argentinian friends. I have come to love their food, expressions, and culture. This week I have spent a lot of time with a friend from Honduras, though, and he keeps pointing out that I speak like a piba, and have almost lost my Honduran accent. My response is: "Better Argentinian than Mexican!", no offense intended.

So, a todos mis ches argentinos y uruguayos, que vivan las empanadas, el mate, y el dulce de leche. Que seamos pendejos por siempre! :D

Silence...Gods sleeping

In August last year, I went to Chicago. As part of the eclectic tour of town that I got, my friend decided to take me to an Indian temple in the vicinity of her house.

The first thrill of that trip was when the tour guide inside the temple told us to take our shoes off! As it was very hot, any excuse to remove pieces of clothing, even if only my shoes, was welcome.

As he gathered the group round about him, he proceeded to ask me from what part of India I was. As the Indians' English accent always baffles me, my only response was staring back, while my friend graciously answered for me, that I was, in fact, not an Indian citizen.

The temple was really cute. The detailed handiwork of the sculpted walls and ornaments was amazing. However, imagine my disappointment when walking downstairs to meet the gods and goddesses of the Indian people, and instead finding signs all over that said that they were taking a nap, and that we should come back in a couple of hours if we wanted to see them. Thinking about it, that was rude of us, to visit them during lunch hours.


PS: On a very spiritual note, may I just add that I'm glad my Heavenly Father, my God, never sleeps, and is always there for me.

Pink ain't always sweet

Reminiscing about my childhood years, I remembered this story of when I was very young, probably around 5 or less. Because I've never pretended to have an outstanding long-term memory, a lot of details are omitted.

There was something going on inside my mouth, blisters or something hurtful. The mean doctor prescribed some sort of spray, all I remember is that it tasted like hell, and it was pink. The one moment I remember includes running as if chased by demons, and my parents following me all around the house. I must have been very fast, because it took them a while to catch up with me. I then shut my mouth tight, and as they struggled to open it, I darted through an open space and began the high-speed chase again.

When they finally caught me, 4 arms surrounded me. Defeat was inevitable. However, at the very second the spray was released into my forcibly-opened mouth, Jo (my dear stuffed bear), showed his loyalty and took the hit, as I put him in front of my face.

Loving Sin City

While I have lived in Vegas for a while, I hadn't really taken advantage of it before. Every day I had off, I'd take off for Utah, my favorite destination (although I may note that I also went to other places, but Utah was my top destination). Since I lost my license and I hadn't gotten it back yet, traveling plans have been curtailed dramatically (a situation which will hopefully be over with this week).

I have to say the plus of not traveling is all the extra money I now have. And since I live in Vegas, I have decided to take advantage of that. I have been to a few of the shows, and a few more are to come. So far, I've seen the Blue Man Group, the Beatles Love (by Cirque du Soleil), the medieval dinner show Tournament of Kings (my king was so hot I wanted to move to Russia immediately) and just two nights ago, Phantom of the Opera, which was so AMAZING!! I mean, I know the soundtrack by heart, and I was singing to every song (inside, not out loud, of course). I even cried at some point. The chandelier falling was scary, but nobody was hurt :D

So I guess living in Vegas is not all bad.

On being stress-free (at least for a few days)

What a crazy week! Oh, my heart! Several times I thought I was going to pass out of stress and fatigue. But I made it, not completely unscathed, as the knots on my shoulders are witness to.

By the way, if you want to know what hell sounds like, just stop by my ward and listen to my choir sing. Lol, I don't mean to be that mean, but seriously, what is wrong with this people? I know people can develop a talent if they sincerely desire to. So...maybe they don't desire it, or I have not enough patience. Most likely a combination of the two.

I really don't have much to tell now. I'm having an inner party, since tomorrow I will finally sleep until my bed kicks me out, go on a shopping spree with my best friend, and then watch TV until my eyes hurt. Happy Holidays!!

On not sleeping

Finals are this week. My torture ends officially in 5 days. I say officially, because my advisor has decided I'm still behind on my writing, and so I should keep working on my thesis (short for professional paper) for the rest of the holidays. If he wasn't the best professor I've found at UNLV, I'd be cursing (politely, of course) the day he was born.

So, for the second week in a row, I'm preparing for 20-hour days, which is ten times harder when you're not high on caffeine. I'm exhausted. I'm planning to slip into a comma by this time next week.

Must go and b*&tch somewhere else.

On aging

My body is playing dirty. After I finally felt like eating solids again on Wednesday, a new plague showed its ugly face: skin allergies. Never in my short life -relatively speaking, of course. Don't make me go there - had I had any kind of allergies. This was awful; it was all over, and making my life miserable. Thank goodness is winter, and I could wear long-sleeved sweaters, or people would have freaked out by the look of my swollen limbs.

So, I wonder if I am like Job of old, being tried in every single aspect of my life, including what can only be defined as modern-day itchy leprosy. Or, maybe I'm just getting old, and not in a graceful way. Oh, please, let it be the first one!

Gluttony

The dreaded all-you-can-eat holidays are here! And I took advantage of them on Friday night, when I piggied out on turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy. Since divine punishment is always wise, I got up at 3 am yesterday to throw up everything I had eaten, and a whole lot more. I said that was wise, because I had to wake up not shortly afterward to get ready for my temple way-too-early-in-the-morning shift. So I didn't have to go back to bed after leaving some of my internal organs in the toilet, I got to get ready to leave for the day (PLEASE note the sarcasm).

Way to teach me a lesson on gluttony, heaven! I will keep that in mind for the following month and a half.

A Christmas miracle

You remember this post in July, when I was on the verge of suicide due to my failed attempt to perform decently with my ward choir? Well, this month I decided to repent of my neglect, and started holding regular choir practices again. The pianist wisely dissuaded me from singing in unison, and I chose a couple of Christmas songs to begin with. Trust me, I chose the easiest songs from the LDS hymnbook. And now the most unbelievable thing has happened: a lot of people have showed up for practice (the most I've had in those practices, actually), and we're singing all 4 parts...beautifully!! It is a Christmas miracle indeed.

My logical reasoning then leads me to the following conclusion: if you're not doing so well in a particular calling, abandon it for 3 months, and then amazing things will happen.

Waiting for the splash

Thanks to some recommendations from a couple of friends, I decided to go see the Blue Man Group show this week. Because of the trailers I had seen from the show, I guess I had incredibly high expectations. I even got tickets in the fourth row from the stage, which is called the Poncho section. They post on their website that they "strongly suggest that you do not wear clothing that you consider nice or valuable," and they even provide everyone on the section with ponchos.

I must admit that I decided not to wash my hair that day, in preparation for the supposedly "messy" night that was awaiting me. I eagerly put my poncho on the minute I reached my seat and, at some point during the show, where it looked like a multicolor rain was about to reach me, I excitedly uncovered my hair. But alas!, the show was interrupted at that very second by some 'late arrivals', which I strongly suspect were all just part of the show.

I'm still waiting to get wet. I guess I'll have to wait until it rains in Vegas.

Disclaimer: Aside from the fact that it probably won't get messy, the show is still very good, and it provides with a good almost 2 hours of laughing. I did not get paid to write the above review.