Random Sabbath thoughts

As I prepare for the grand opening of this marvelous blog, I realized I did not feel inspired to write about anything today, so I will just share a bunch of non-related thoughts about nothing.

I have come to realize that if I stop eating, I suddenly have more money. Not only that, but if I stop sleeping, I have just enough time to do everything that needs to be done (barely). So, if you're ever in need of one of those, you know what to do.

I have decided it is virtually impossible to understand boys. It's not like they're from Mars. If we're from Venus, they're in a whole different galaxy. Eventually, though, one of us girls gets lucky enough to run into an experimented space traveler, who has gotten acquainted with our ways, and knows how to treat us, without losing their identity in the process.

When kidnapping a toy gun, make sure you never disclose your identity, and that you demand an adequate ransom (Fear of legal consequences prevents me from revealing more, but I can share more private details if you're interested; leave a comment).

To be continued...

Meet Whitey

I seriously hate to drive. My latest story should demonstrate how bad I do.

I was glad that I had student status here, and a valid excuse not to have a car. After all, I do not have here the social status I had back home. Then again, I also don't have a job.

I have strayed from the topic, but here is when I get back on. I hated driving the bus. This was nothing like Denver. The people riding the bus are mostly (how to say it nicely?)... sketchy. I got tired of being hit on by men with golden teeth, excessive facial hair or with the potential to be my third-generation ancestor. So I decided to stop eating and save enough money to buy a car. Any piece of junk would do, as long as it kept me away from bus stops.

And so I did. I bought a car 2 months ago. But when did I actually drive it for the first time? You'd say "Duh! 2 months ago, obviously!". I say no, keep guessing. "1 month?", you say. Nope, go on. "2 weeks?" as you raise your eyebrows. And I finally answer, Nope. I just drove it for the first time 4 days ago, after I had run out of every conceivable excuse I could come up with. I will not elaborate; they were valid excuses, but none that would ordinarily make my determination falter.

Don't get me wrong, I love the freedom to move around that an automobile provides. However, why can't it drive itself? I wonder if Kit from "Knight Rider" would consider being my car if I promised to give him a more manly name. In the meantime, I just contemplate the possibility of ever having enough money to have a cute car, and an even cuter driver to take me wherever I want to go.

My top 10 dirty secrets

Even I am not that shameless, so there are still some secrets I won't write about yet. But these are the ones I mustered the courage to share.
1. Although a faithful LDS and a Utah lover, I hate the Jazz, and love the Denver Nuggets.
2. There was a time when I swore I would never even consider living in the US.
3. I watched Sex and The City, both the series and the movie. I have now repented.
4. I want to have children, but not sure I want to go through the physical strains of pregnancy. Does anyone know about any breakthroughs in “baby technology”?
5. I memorized most of the episodes of “Saved by the Bell” when I was a teenager. I’m pretty sure a cheap collection of most of those episodes sits in the back of my bookshelf back home.
6. I am really sensitive about my hair, and I pray every day that nothing bad will ever happen to it. My self-esteem sinks every time I have a bad hair day, which lately seems to be happening more and more frequently.
7. Sometimes I feel stupid, because I have a very bad memory.
8. I cry more than I want to admit it. Luckily, I am quite unable of shedding tears, so unless you notice my watery eyes, you would never know I’m crying.
9. Every week, while watching The Biggest Loser, I vow to be more physically active and to push myself like those obese guys on TV. I forget about it the next day.
10. I’ve been called preppy many, many times ... and I love it.

At this point, I realize I feel so relieved to finally have all these secrets out in the open, that I want to go on.
11. I hate driving. If I had the money, I’d have a driver.
12. I never wanted to become an environmentalist, I kinda stumbled upon it. I always wanted to be an interpreter, and that’s why I learned 4 languages.
13. I am so proud and (allegedly) so self-reliant that I hate asking for favors. E.g. I’ve been known for walking amazingly long distances, just because I wouldn’t ask for a ride.
14. I am a TV-aholic. I have watched TV for hours and hours on end (ah, the days!). However, if I’m reading a book during commercials, I don’t feel like I’m wasting my time.

To read or not to read

Reading is one of my passions. Great hobby, although a bit expensive, particularly for my parents when I was a kid. Bookstores in my home country are not...let’s say...en vogue. All they have are books from Paulo Coelho, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Isabel Allende, Spanish translations of self-help books and textbooks. Not being a big fan of either of those books, and having read all the books in my parents’ bookshelf - including an encyclopedia on pregnancy and motherhood, another note to my future husband ;) - my dad became a member of Club de Lectores, a Spaniard club, who would send him monthly catalogs of books. I cherished the days when my dad would bring me the catalog, and asked me to choose which books I wanted him to order. I had to restrain myself from not ordering the whole thing.

I remember once, Dad came home for lunch carrying 2 books, fresh from Spain. I vividly remember the titles: “The Dead Poets’ Club”, and “Dying Young”. He was beaming as he handed them to me, and said “Enjoy”. His first premature wrinkle appeared that night when, as he came back home from work, I said: “I’m done with those 2 books you brought earlier. Didn’t you get any more?” That was probably the moment he dismissed any dreams of wealth he might have ever had. 

Reading turned me into a freak in my home country. Apparently, the only books people read there are textbooks. Hence, people would always ask what class I was studying for whenever they saw me reading a book. I felt much better, though, while living in Denver, and everyone would be reading a book while riding the bus or the train. I felt like I was finally among my own. However, living in Vegas made me realize I may be more alone than I thought. My first month here I had to ride the bus more than I wished to. A lot of latinos also ride the bus. That’s when I realized the non-reading habit is a latin epidemic. One man asked me while on a bus stop: “Is that the Bible you’re reading?” Seriously?! Is that the only book you have ever heard of? What has the world come to?!

Uchtdorf:1 - Kat:0

Once I was exchanging interesting emails with a guy I had met a few years back, and he was from a different country, not far from where I lived. We had not interacted much when we met, and he wasn’t that memorable (I don't know why, he was VERY good-looking), since I had to ask a friend to refresh my memory when he started chatting with me, as I had no idea how I had met him. I still can’t remember him, but a certain picture that show both of us in the same group convinced me that I had, in fact, met him. For the purpose of this story, let’s call him Alan.

Things started to get quite interesting between Alan and me. We talked about visiting each other, and see where things were going. We were making plans. We were exchanging pictures. I could bet we would look great together. Then it all happened.

He was to be a bodyguard for Elder Dieter Uchtdorf when he visited his country that month. Not everyone gets to say they hung out with one of the Twelve on a regular basis, but Alan did. He even sent me a picture when they were together. Darn, I was so envious already, and dying to move to his country, and chill with Church leaders myself.

After a few days, I got this email, and I quote: “He (E. Uchtdorf) told me he was going to find me a wife...During a conference, he pointed to a sister...and told me that she was the one I had to look for...” To make this heartbreaking story short, she accepted his invite, even though she claims she would never go out with someone she didn’t know, but that she felt E. Uchtdorf was talking directly to her, and recognized him (Alan) when he asked her out. Apparently, E. Uchtdorf was really inspired that day, since they started to date officially some 10 days later, got married soon thereafter, and have a nice family now.

I know it’s not right to have bad feelings about one of the Anointed, but I couldn’t help it. Trips were going to be made soon, marital status were going to change (potentially), lives were going to change. Granted, some lives did change, just not mine, which is the most important one. How could he do this to time, a faithful member of the Church? But I'm happy to report that thanks to the YSA fireside where he was the guest speaker last year, I have now forgiven him. I wish to meet him, so he can “find me” a husband.

15 reasons why you should date me

15. I will watch any kind of sports with you… if you don’t mind me surfing the web while we do so.
14. I have the most updated Facebook profile you will ever see.
13. If you like outdoor activities, I will encourage them… if you go with your friends.
12. I won’t ask you to come shopping with me.
11. My microwave food is to die for (literally).
10. Your dad will love me, 100% guaranteed.
9. My hair always looks good, regardless if I brush it or not.
8. I don’t eat much for dinner, so I’m usually a cheap date.
7. I will always let you drive.
6. I will never be fat; I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
5. I’ll never rub it in your face that I’m smarter than you.
4. I’ll sing for you every day. And if you have ever heard me sing, you know what a treat it is.
3. When I take over the world, I will let you rule with me.
2. I can say “you’re so handsome” in 4 languages.
1. If you have gotten this far, I have proven to be very interesting, right?

I can come up with more reasons than these. If you are personally interested, please leave a comment and I will get back to you ;)

Baywatch

Talking about phobias, I hate water. Don't get me wrong, I will still take showers. It's probably a childhood trauma. Again, let me share a couple of stories.

1. Swimming was a part of my physical education class in high school. It was during these years that I became the best liar of all times. I came up with every conceivable excuse to skip class. My time of the month became my time of the week, until the instructor noticed; then I had to stage fake colds, cough attacks, flus and migraines.
2. When I was younger, my family went to the beach. As usual, I didn't go as far as 10 steps into the beach. My eccentricity paid off when my brother had to be carried out of deeper water, his left foot stung by a jellyfish. To this date, I will not go into the beach without wearing shoes. Thanks for the lesson, Carlos.
3. Once during a Church event for Young Single Adults, we went to a place with a big pool. Trying to deal with my childhood trauma in my own way, I had a few of my friends throw those who refused to follow my orders into the deep end of the pool. As my most resisting enemy faced impending submersion in water, he grabbed both my arms, and jumped into the pool, dragging me along with him. So you'd think after 5 years of swimming classes, I'd know what to do, right? Wrong. I fell like a rock straight to the bottom. But I had trained my disciples well, and at the risk of their own lives, a couple of them dove into the embrace of my soon-to-be watery tomb, and took me out of there. I couldn't even walk or talk straight afterwards.

Nowadays, whenever I have to go into one of those "chlorine graves", I conveniently stay in the kid's section. No shame in being safe.

Hell's Kitchen

I suffer from kitchenphobia, where I tremble at the thought of knives, fire, boiling water or hot oil spraying my face, and condemning me to a life of blindness. I have some stories that may explain this fear of mine.
When I was a little girl, my mom tried to teach me how to cook, but I ended up cutting my fingers almost every time. My mom said she preferred not to have a crippled daughter, and banned me from the kitchen for the rest of my childhood and teenage years. To avoid my starvation, she taught me some basic recipes just last year, when she realized microwave food and ramen soups had become a part of my daily nutrition. Strangely, there were no mishaps when we baked together, so I can make some killer desserts. My children will be diabetic.
For Mother's Day like 10 years ago, my brother Carlos took over dinner, as he usually does (my brothers were not clumsy in the kitchen at all, so they did learn how to cook). I offered Carlos my limited help. He asked me to take the recently cooked potatoes out of the stove, and drain the water, so we could start peeling them. Physics has never been that easy a subject for me, so I forgot to recall that the potatoes could splash boiling water if I just turned the pot upside down. The following 2 weeks I spent wearing tube shirts, and rubbing aloe all over my upper chest. To my future husband, please don´t worry, as the doctor did a wonderful job, and no scars were left on this essential part of my anatomy.
About 2 and a half months ago, I moved to a new appartment. One morning, I decided to have eggs for breakfast. I had no idea about the scare I was going to get. Whenever I've been around a stove, it has always been an electric device; so, no gas and, particularly, no flame had ever been present. Not the case here. I turned the knob and set it on high, but failed to sense the heat; then I smelled the gas. Fearing an explosion might prematurely end my life, I screamed, turned the knob off, and ran upstairs to my bedroom, where I locked myself up for the next 30 minutes. Again, my lack of knowledge of physics made me forget that air travels around, and moves through hinges in locked doors.
My friend Laura had to cook dinner for a medium-sized group this last Thanksgiving. As usual, I feel uncomfortable when people are working around me, and I'm not. Plus, it seemed like a never-ending task for one person alone, so I took a deep breath, and walked to the kitchen with shaky footsteps. In a trembling voice, I asked: "Do you need any help?", praying with all I got that she would have me rub the floor, do the dishes, or anything else that would keep me away from the stove and all the knives in that dreaded place.
She must have felt my horror, as she sent me away, while saying: "I´m doing ok now, but I´ll let you know if I need your help later". Oh, blessed soul that she is! However, all my fears came back about 15 minutes later when she asked me to make Jell-O, but went away again when I realized all I had to do was to boil water. I later had to prepare stuffing and gravy, all from a box, naturally. All of these chores demanded the boiling of water, so I survived. Merciful Laura, que Dios te lo pague!
I have a million more stories of my ineptitude in the kitchen, but again, I don't want to scare away my future husband. Honey, whoever you are, we'll be okay ;)

A life of crime

Well, it didn't take me long to be seduced by Sin City. After I returned from a fruitful souvenir shopping trip, I gasped as I realized I had a Las Vegas 2010 calendar in my purse that I hadn't paid for. I had shoplifted!! As any criminal would have done, I justified my doings. Well, I hadn't really meant to, it was not that expensive an item anyway, and I had many things to do, so there was no time to go back to the store and pay for it. Couldn't I just give a 5 dollar bill to a homeless person and call it even? However, I believe in a divine version of karma. Hence, fearing my love life (one of my major concerns in life) might be in jeopardy, I decided to go all the way back to the store, admit my crime and face the consequences. But as I entered the store, I saw a long line of people at the register, and feared for my reputation, so I strolled about the aisles, and then casually headed to the register, where I paid for the darned calendar. It was such an adrenaline rush.
Hopefully, my love life is safe now.

Intro

I have always thought of myself as a lame writer. Being a book worm, though, I kind of envied the natural talent some people have of putting their thoughts unto paper. However, a very good friend of mine and her blog have inspired me to reach higher. Bear with me, since I'm an amateur still. You should also know English is my second language, but that won't stop me in my path to world domination, where Spanglish will be the ruling language.
As my abilities are still being developed, I should stop now, and not kill the moment. Enjoy!