to 2015, about 2014

Heeeey...

[Is it awkward that blogging feels awkward because I very seldom do it? Why do I even have blogs? Seriously, like.]

So yep, I don't blog a lot, but this year has been intense, and I kind of want to wrap it up a bit. Not with a party, no. More like, with a bit of thinking.
Here's a tip, now: the best way to organize your ideas is to verbalize them having in mind as heterogeneous a public as you cat get. Yeah, I mean "the Internet".

Let's go back to the intenseness of this year, so. Umh.

2014 didn't start well for me, my family, or the people I was close to at the time.
And then, it didn't get better.

Generally speaking, I spent the first few months wishing that at the New Years' Eve celebration, somehow, I had been tranported to some shitty parallel reality, from which I'd eventually come back. So maybe I'm still trapped here...
But to be honest, right now I believe that would have been too good. "Good" didn't belong to my 2014.

Because of this, I think that I'm going to make a list and I also think that it will be no easy task. But nice things are there even if we fail to notice them (that wasn't me, it was a mantra thingy. I'm miserable and bitter. Optimism is for tossers. And so on), so I'm going to write down the things that happened during 2014 and which make me feel good.

- Hyuna. All about her.
- Going back to work with kids. They're honest little people.
- Fiding out friends. As in, realising for the first time that a certain individual is a true friend who values me and worries about my wellbeing, and whom I value and about whose wellbeing I worry.
- My Degree End Research Project. Lexical borrowing processes from Old English to the Renaissance, if ay of you want to throw some ideas.
- Seeing again people I'd missed.
- Having money. This is one if the things that has changed most since last Christmas. And it may sound as crappy as you like, but feeling ok about my economic status rather that it keeping me from sleeping- a blessing. And being able to buy things, both for me and for other people, and from other people, nice.
- I've read a lot this year. Highlight: I've discovered Terry Pratchet. Oh, is he good.

That's it.

Now, to this coming year, I'd like to ask one single thing: let us all find out that the decisions we made in 2014 were the right ones.
I've got no resolutions and no promises to make in return for that favour, so the only thing I can offer is the knowledge that, upon taking those decisions, I did the best I could. I hope that's enough and if it's not, then there's nothing I can change anyway.

I'll just write here a bit

... because I like blogging.

I do, really.

My constancy sucks, but so does everything else :)


Now, to the matter.

I've probably told here before of my job in summer camps.
So well, I came back from Ireland earlier this year, generally speaking, because everything sucks, and it's summer now. That means summer job. That means summer camp.

That means children.
Oh, yes, those.

I don't think I can hate them any more than I already do.

I mean, they've got this way of asking things and you don't realise and suddenly you are not taking advantage of your free afternoons to study for your September exams anymore, because instead you are writing a play and making the costumes and stage decorations for that play and you are also planning a camping trip with them and you are also thinking of effective ways of teaching them how to draw elvish warriors riding dragons, when you can't even draw that yourself and they get frustrated in step one- draw an oval.

["Why do you always get your ovals right?"
"My oval looks like a potato, I'm gonna start over." *takes a new piece of paper*
"But how do you draw an oval?"
"Don't say you just learnt, someone must have taught you to properly draw ovals"
"This is impossible- can't we draw a face without an oval?"]

I don't think every person dealing with children ends up like this... there must be some secret word or something, to stop them from having ideas...


mhh...

Memories (and you may all go and decide I'm a nerd now- I'm still a proud one.)

In these past days, two unrelated yet very related memories came back to me.

First one I remembered the other day (I actually think it was yesterday, but my perception of time is so very messed up lately, I can never know). I was FB texting the Firetruck (that annoying being- I can only picture his stupid perpetual smile, but everytime I talk to him he is crossed, or sarcastic, or sad, or an emo, or not happy in any other way. And he is too amazing for that shit)and at one point he said the following:

"[P]oor you, spending your time in an studyship you chose in order to find a job you love."

And it reminded me. it remimded me of my 20 year old "self" (who was barely a self at all), that miserable thing, being put to study English without even being asked about it. Of course I didn't say a thing, because, well, I do love what I am doing, but I remembered, I felt. I felt the urge to escape that life people were shaping for me without my consent, I remembered hating it and everybody so much.

That's my first memory.

My second memory arised after the community reunion this morning, or maybe two weeks ago. There exists this omnipresent talkative neighbour (she tends to be there when my mother's reserve is saving me some embarrasment, and likes to compensate), and my birthday is about to come, so of course she started relating her -very reshaped- memories of my childhood. And it brought my own back.
She was narrating how much I loved being cared for by her daughter and how happy I was at those times, and it made me picture myself being happy while I did that that made me happy.
I... developed writing systems, inventing their symbold, deciding what sounds were and were not represented (for they were writing systems for imagined languagues), and which ones were to be written in dygraphs.
I also read enciclopaedia entries and investigated the evolution of letters and their different shapes in the écritures of old times. I looked at them and enjoyed the fascination they made me feel.
I asked my mom to write things for me using greek letters so that I could decipher it.
I read Asterix comics in French to try and grasp some of the meaning.
I searched the internet for a glossary of Old Irish words (who wan't modenr languages when there is obsolete ones abound?) and memorised them.
I read an old Latin diccionary and copied down words that I found interesting.


I lived for them, for all the words in all the languages, for all the ways in which both changed, chifted, evolved, all this time.

I quote Christabel LaMotte now.

"Words have been all my life, all my life."

Privacy

What do you do when you can not blurt stuff out in either of your blogs anymore because some of your readers actually have an active rol in your life?

Do you get a new mail accout and start another brand new blog?

Do you just write it on post-its and stick it on your bedroom wall?

Do you click "publish" anyway because you don't give a fuck?

Do you let anxiety get over yourself and buble whatever thing is bothering you while rocking in your corner?

Do you let it unsaid, as you had done all your life before you started blogging? Do you let your annoyance, fear, anxiety and worries control your decission? Do you repent for having ever typed a single word?

[Y de repente te das cuenta de que estás dando pasos de gigante hacia un futuro que te aterra, pero que tú has elegido. Y sientes miedo y orgullo, y mariposas en el estómago...]

So... It seems I’m... getting out of the closet. About my autism, that is.

One of the reasons why I finally thought “So what the fuck?” and went aupairing was that my friend M. was doing it, and reading about it in her blog, it looked amazing.

My relationship with M. begun around 2006 in a certain foto-blog plataform and we’ve been in touch via different social networks, and we follow each other blogs. So, she knows about my aspergers. I think she is actually the only person I knew before I found out that knows.

And I decided to come aupairing to Irealnd and I ended up in Co. Cork, were she is. And we met up (for the first time and it was weird and great and whatever).

But the thing is she knows.

And then one saturday night I told F., because I... felt like it.

So she knows too.

And we were chatting the other day and... well, if G. didn’t properly realize what’s going on, then he just sort of did, but it was stated clear that my mind works in a different way at least.

And I’m getting out of the closet and it feels... a lot of different things.

Of course it feels great. I had actually thought of this experience as a way of starting a life that makes me feel better, with less passing and more freedom, right from the instant “So what the fuck?” came into my mind. And being free to be yourself feels fucking great.

And of course it’s hella scary too, I mean, now I suddenly am openly* autistic, and I don’t really know what’s expected from me or to what point I can act like myself and not my passing self, and what aspects of my autistic mind are OK and not creepy to reveal to the people that I want to keep as friends, and how is people going to respond to it? Are they all going to start acting weird and ruin it all? And is it safe? or does it make me just even more vulnerable?

And them I’m proud, because I’m actively taking my own steps towards what I think it should be. Because, come on, asking for the right to be something you’re actually hiding you are is not exactly cool, right? And asking for better conditions and understanding for and about you while you’re not ready to show it is about you is both mean and... mean, right? And when you’re changing that hypocrite part of you (even if it’s only a small part of it, not the whole, not all at once, it feels good, and your self steem suddenly grows, because you don’t really accept yourself until you publicly accept yourself, right?

*Openly with my friends, even just with some of them (the friend-est ones anyway), that is, with the peope I freely relate with,  not with my hostfamily or the people we just hang out with.

I hate it when people does things for me without me asking and they do them in the wrong way.

Like, you know, there's this guy who apparently likes me a lot, and yeah I also kind of like him, and he asked me to be his girlfriend but I said "no" because I was leaving, and the moment was not the best to explain things so I just said no.
And this morning he went to the restaurant before I was there and my mom told him I'm leaving.

So when I arrived he's looked at me with a sad look and he's said "So your leaving" and I said "Yes" and he asked "for how long" and I said "minimum 7 months" and his look's turned even sadder.

And shit.

(And yeah, this is me whining and I'm sorry about that but I needed to split it out)

Premio Blog Original

Hace ya un porrón de tiempo de que Saiko me otrorgó el Premio Blog Original (estoy orgullosísima y podéis ver el icono correspondiente a la derecha). Ya se lo agradecí, pero dejé pendientes mis responsabilidades al respecto.

Como receptora del premio tengo que nombrar a quién me lo concedió (ya lo he hecho), compartir una frase que me defina especialmente y conceder el premio a 10 blogs.

Mi frase es "L'enfer, c'est les autres" de Jean Paul Sartre, que se traduce como "el infierno son los demás" (aunque en su contexto se refiere a un "los demás" específico, en el mío es la gente en general XD).

Y ahora vienen mis premios. No van a ser 10 blogs los premiados, porque quiero atenerme a un criterio de originalidad real, y por alguna otra razón también (complicada de explicar).

1.: Aunque ya lo tiene, se lo devuelvo: Aspie-Chan , de Saiko.
2.: Un libro... es otra historia , de M. Me parece una iniciativa genial.
3.: Desde mi libertad
4.: Diario de una (casi) maestra descubriendo el mundo, también de M. : siempre que paso, aprendo algo.
5.: El sonido de la hierba al crecer , de Anabel
6.: Hasta la luna ida y vuel...TA (5. y 6. porque con madres así, da gusto)
7.: ·Make Up Your Mind· , de Cinnamon Cloud. Un blog de maquillaje que a veces sorprende, y siempre entretiene. No me pasa con muchos.

Y con eso están todos.
Los premiados tienen que:
 Nombrar a quein les dio el premio
 Compartir una frase que les defina
 Premiar  10 blogs
 Comentar en el último post de los blogs a los que han premiado.

Y listo, Calisto.

I'm finished!

Ayer hice el último examen de este curso, y es probable que lo tenga que repetir en septiembre, pero tal y como tengo la cabeza ni siquiera me importa. No creo que me quede ninguna otra así que dedicaré el verano al alemán (que aprobar aprobaré, pero no tengo ni idea) y a Literatura Clásica, que es la que supongo que me quedará.
Quiero aprovechar y acabar de leer todas esas novelas que tenía que leer para el curso y he dejado a medias: The Bluest Eye, The Woman Who Walked Into Doors, Medea, Moll Flanders, Jane Eyre, Frankenstein...
Y me cogeré los libros de tercero prontito para empezar el curso que viene con el primer vistazo ya echado, así que ya os contaré lo que me parecen.

Aunque todavía no está decidido, supongo que me volverán a coger para la ludoteca, y con eso y el bar, ya tengo curro más que de sobra, pero tengo que sumarle las clases particulares (me quiero centrar en el Inglés, que es lo mío, y ya tengo una candidata: G). Y a ver si mi tío decide repetir en la Feria Ornitológica de Ruthland y me lleva de intérprete.

Cabe la posibilidad de que me escape unos días a Madrid este mes para atender un seminario de Lingüística el 18, pero me viene mal porque tendría que marchar el domingo.

Sigo sin tener ninguna intención de sacarme el carnet de conducir porque no quiero, porque no me parece que sea seguro que yo conduzca un coche y porque no y punto así que espero que nadie me insista demasiado (aunque sé que pasará).

La semana que viene, sin falta, me pondré con los posts que tengo pendientes, e intentaré llevar un ritmo de publicación uniforme y continuado durante todo el verano, ya veremos si lo consigo. Y a ver si se me desembota la cabeza y vuelvo al inglés.

¡Ah! Hoy hemos tenido visita de mi prima y a lo mejor me encarga alguna traducción :)

Y estas son mis perspectivas hasta octubre...

Brilliance

It's been a while since Clarissa expressed her opinion about brilliance in students and it made me think "Oh, she's wrong, she's so wrong" but I decided not to tell my opinion in that moment.
However, I've just received evidence to support my view and that's why I'm writing this (which is bassically boasting).

I'm cursing my second year in "Estudios Ingleses: Lengua, Literatura y Cultura" at unibersity. I made an enormous mistake (or maybe, not that enourmous, or not a mistake at all xD) and took all the subjects of the course. I soon learnt that there wasn't time for all that in my life. The most time consuming subject was "Gender and Literature in English Speaking Countries". I loved it, so totally loved it, but properly working on it was going to make me fail the rest of the subjects, so I dropped it. I would work hard on it my whole Summer and take my exam on September.

So I dind't prepare the subject at all.
I decided to do the exam anyway, just to give it a try.

And well, it's a shame I will not be able to get a distinction on September... but I'm pretty happy with my 80 points!!


And now, the conclussion of it all: Brilliance does work, but you've got to be brilliant enought.

Replica Animal

I've got a little reflection to do about why I can not get attached to bloging, because the abandonement of this place is undeniable.
I suposse I haven´t been doing any deep thinking lately and that's why I don´t blog nor study nor blah,blah,blah.


Anyway this post is not about that, but about how great my my ucle's work is.
I can only take photos with my laptop's webcam right now so sorry about the quality but please have a look at the photos anyway!
Those are some present's he's made for me during the years (there's two bird missing...), there's more stuff in his page, which I've added to the web list in the left.

 First three photos show a mouse with a chestnut in an oval green platform. The mouse and the nut are painted in realistic colours.

Two latter photos show a bronze frog.

I am annoyed

So, the thing is I have logged in my account at the website of my university and there was like a huge link to a new about how a certain disabled girl has brilliantly ended a course there, a thanks letter from her mum and that stuff.
But there wasn´t a single word about which was the disability or in what way it difficulted the girl's learning.


Because, you know, every disabled person is equaly stupid so it´s always a good point to any uni to have helped any of those idiots' sweet and brave attempt of learning anything.


I am annoyed.


I will not make a case like this because I am not diagnosed, but you know, what if I was? I'm a sort of language genious getting a degree on English, but still, there will be a honey covered article about how a sweet young disabled girl had, with all her innate strenght, the teaching teams help and her classmates' good will, succesfully ended her studies and blah, blah, the day I graduated, even if I need none's help to study English by correspondence.

yesterday evening I came back home from class and mom said...

..."E.T.A. is over"


I was, like, happy? But it really felt odd, because I didn´t have any hope for that. I thought nothing was gonna happen, but well, it happened!!
And it was just the day before yesterday when I was engaged in a 3 generations conversation about the subject and, you know, grandma said she was hopeful because of the taken steps towards peace and that she believed E.T.A. would be over in less than a week and, you know, mom and I are sort of sceptical people and we told her that was really difficult and that we didn´t have any kind of hope in that because of blah, blah, blah, and then, 24 hours later, it just happened.


Wow.
It´s like and historical event.
It´s like the first historical event I feel part of!


It feels stupidly good :)
I never thought I would feel so happy because of it. I suppose I`ve got a more normal mind that what I thought...

Oh-!

-Sorry, can I have a light?
-Eh? Oh! Yeh- here-
-Thank you! -The cigarrete is lighted- Thank you! You're gorgeous, by the way.

There is too much shit in my life right now and I an not handle it anymore...

But those nice friends who kept repeating that they would be there everytime I needed them are nowhere to be seen.

I do not want to stay here.

I do not want to go back.

Shit!

Raphael

So...
Hi from Dublin!!
Yesterday night my hostel room mate taugh me hot to create a camping gas out of a beer can.
Ashtray was pretty cool.
Sadly I had to change hostels and I don't like this one a single bit...
And... nothing else (well, there's really a lot about disabilities and how I unconciously take advantage on other disabled people, which just means: another one of the room mates was a stutterer and I had no problem to have looooong stupid conversations with him, what I do with none, but he had).

And mhh... I don't know.

Guys make me nervous (this is a summary of the whole summer-)
and...
By-by!!

Feeling horrible, posting about other stuff

Hay muchísimas cosas sobre las que quiero escribir, pero...

Para empezar (por el final), otro año que se me olvida felicitar a EB2.

No es que tenga importancia porque no es que tengamos ninguna relación y no es que yo felicite a nadie, pero ella siempre deja su huella el 17/05. Yo sé que lo hace sólo porque tuenti se lo recuerda, pero lo hace e inicia un intercambie de texto vacío (que yo encuentro más bien incómodo y desagradable, como cuando te encuetras con un antiguo compañero de clase con el que no quieres hablar y tienes que hacerlo) y me hace sentir que yo la tengo que felicitar a ella. Pero no sé en qué día vivo y para cuando me entero se me ha pasado la fecha. Suelo decirme que yo al menos me acuerdo sin que una web me avise pero eso en realidad no me sirve de nada.

Tenía algo preparado sobre la cantidad de pena/miedo que me da cierta gente, pero hoy no me apetece subrlo. Otra vez será.

Nemo ha desaparecido de la faz de la Tierra y, como consecuencia, también lo ha hecho mi interés/curiosidad. Tengo que mirar eso: en cuanto dejo de pensar en algo, no vuelo a pensar en ello hasta que un factor externo (normalmente una pregunta de concurso televisivo) me lo recuerda, y vuelo a obsesionarme.

Luego esta R., que es una caja de sorpresas (positivas). Supongo que es porque esperaba de él que fuera una persona muy lana y predecible, y claro, no lo es, porque las personas en general no suelen serlo, o no tiene porqué.

Pero todo en el me sorprende, y genera una sensación agradable en mí. Sabe bailar. Y le gusta. Me caigo de la silla cada vez que lo recuerdo. Si gritara un poquito menos y hablara un poquito más claro no tendría mayor problema en ceder, pero también me produce una gran cantidad de ansiedad/pereza social meterme en una relación con alguien que todo el mundo conoce.

La gente tiene la manía de querer saber cosas y cuando hacen preguntas se empeñan en recibir respuestas largas y detalladas. Pero no preguntan sobre Lingüística Cognitiva, sino de lo que hiciste ayer con X persona. Bufff.

Debería concluir el post con un "Bueno, me voy a poner a estudiar, que esto no es serio" pero tengo el cerebro/la mente hecho papilla.

Headache, y E.

Bueno. Durísima mañana lidiando con Lakoff, Grady y Ruiz de Mendoza más con la ausencia de Blogger (realmente parecía eterna, "the horror! the horror!" creo que tengo que recomendaros este post de Clarissa al respecto).

Así que he acabado la mañana con la cabeza como un bombo.

Y luego la tarde.

E., lo adoro.

Ha estado siendo muy malo, que es su juego favorito, y luego hemos jugado los dos a tirarnos arena y rebozarnos por el suelo. En un momento dado mi madre ha tenido que echarle la bronca muy seriamente y se ha puesto triste y se ha ido a su rincón de los lamentos, en una localización francamente peligrosa (si mañana me acuerdo de sacarle una foto, os lo enseño).

Como no me gusta que se suba ahí, y menos a llorar, le he dicho que baje, y cuando lo ha hecho se ha caído. Me he dado un susto de muerte pero estaba ya abajo y no se ha hecho nada. Aún así ha lloriqueado un poco porque no es casi mimoso el moreno.

Luego, estando él en el arcén pasaba JP en coche y aunque E. ya lo había visto y no tenía ningún peligro en donde estaba, JP ha decidido que era mejor que se apartara. Se lo ha comunicado al niño dándole luces y pitando. El pobre ha salido despaborido corriendo hacia mi (<3, E. me quiere) y JP, pensando que su método había dado resultado ha seguido su trayectoria que coincidía con la de E., vamos, que E., ya suficientemente asustado, ha visto que el coche que le pitaba luego lo seguía. Se ha echado a temblar.

A pesar de lo que pueda parecer, su humor en general ha sido fantástico y yo me lo he pasado genial (exceptuando sustos e indignaciones).

Y luego he vuelto a casa y se me ha venido encima un dolor de cabeza horrible. Pero al menos Blogger ha vuelto a la vida.

So I’m trying to write this in English

 [Yesterday was such an awful day- and I tried to change my template, the other one was definitely uncomfortable, but blogger wouldn't want to, so I've just done it, like it? and exams on 20 days and I’ve done nothing in the whole term]

There’s a few days since I decided to write something about I. I. Is a mentally disabled young man I met when working in Disabled Summer Camps. He had violent attacks and I, between the whole working team, was his favourite subject for them. So I was afraid of him. He would grab me by the arm, put a terror movie mad man’s face and strongly stick his nails on it. He wouldn’t stop whatever a did/said until some guy (normally my beloved elf) came and told him to stop. So I was afraid of him. So when the attack was finished and he was a nice guy back, I would tell him “Stay away” and he would sit down a couple of metres away from me and i would tell “far away” and he would stand up and walk five more metres and sit down again. And then I would feel guilty and horrible for treating him that way.

I was specially afraid of waking him up at mornings to give him his medicines because that meant to be alone with him when everyone else was sleeping and I would have to scream out for help if I wanted my Elf to come and save me. I’m not exactly good on asking for help... But I. Would never harm me in that situation.

Tehn there was the bus thing. When the camp was finished two of us would have to go on the bus whith the group. That year it was another girl and me, which meant big problems if I. gor violent. So I was, obviously, afraid once more. It was about the middle of the journey (it was not a long one) when I. stood up from his place on the front of the bus, walked all the way to the back where we were and sat down in the free place beside me. I was terrified. He held my arm and said “Home” and then he smiled. I felt so sorry for him. I don’t know what his disability was because we weren’t told, and I wish i knew because he was on a camp to have a good time and he obviously had a bad one. That moment on the bus made me feel he was sweet, but I haven’t seen his smile until that very moment.

And well, now I’m speaking about how we didn’t know any medical details about the people we were treating. It was part of the privacy policy of the centre they lived on: we were not doctors so we didn’t need to know. I didn’t like this and it proved extremely unefective:

There was “C.”

“C.” Apparently was a tranquil mentally retarded middle age woman with self-violence attacks and that was all we could see so we treated “her” having that into account.

Then one day, the nurse would speak too much and told some of us what follows: <<“C.” has 28 diagnosed personalities>>.

So I got totally mad. So we had been treating 28 as if they were 1. OF COURSE IT WOULDN’T WORK, HOW DO YOU PRETEND THAT TO WORK??!! ARE YOU REALLY THAT STUPID??!!

I felt everything was so stupid and nonsense and suddenly I was so unconfident about the work we (I) were doing and I couldn’t stand the situation. We were doing it pityfully and it was their fault.

¡Tengo un trébol de 4 hojas!

Este texto lo empecé el 21 y lo he acabado ahora, así que es un gran amasijo de basura pensada, pero allá voy.

-21-

¡Tengo un trébol de 4 hojas! me siento relativamente estúpida por la tremenda ilusión que me hace. Lo verdaderamente importante es que en el césped del parque de al lado de la posada hay numerosos tréboles de cuatro hojas...

Y, en fin, lo más relevante de mi vida ahora mismo es que mi interés por Nemo (mhh... ¿Gnemo? qué tentador) ha desbancado a mi interés por Tadzio/Loui. Gnemo es mucho más investigable, y por tanto mi interés se mantendrá estable por más tiempo. Además, bueno, el sábado (16) en si fue bastante horrible pero el sábado visto desde la prespectiva del domingo no estuvo del todo mal. Aunque fue una pena que... y que por eso...

Bueno, el fin de semana en general me dejó sin capacidad de ser persona.

-22-

Acabamos de terminar las comidas.

Ha venido una familia con una chica llamada I. que va a Isterria, el mismo cole en el que empieza E. el curso que viene.

Les he tirado un poco de la lengua y han dicho que están muy contentos, que llevan 12 años allí y que están muy agusto. La propia I. me ha contado que hacen unos extraescolares muy chulos, que ella hace judo y atletismo y que ahora también está aprendiendo a montar a caballo. Los padres han dicho que el centro funciona muy bien y que ponen mucho énfasis en que los usuarios adquieran una disciplina básica.

-23-

Menudo desastre-

Nemo no parece ya que vaya a aparecer. A lo mejor viene mañana con alguna tía suya, porque la verdad no ha habido mucho movimiento de la familia real. Es estúpido, pero escribo en clave.

Antes de que se me olvide, hablemos de vegetales:

1.- ¡Ya están floreciendo las aguileñas! Incluso si no hubiera más flores en el mundo, harían que mereciera la pena la primavera.

2.- El otro día limpiaron las zarzas del lavadero y aprovecharon para cargarse las hiedras. dos paredes enteras de hiedra a la porra. Es casi tonto lo mucho que me enfado por estas cosas.

3.- Hace 3 semanas ya que una nueva especie vegetal entró en mi vida: fritilaria pyrenaica. Es una especie bastante llamativa, y no deja de chocarme que ni yo ni mi madre la hubiéramos visto nunca. Me pegué toda una mañana de lunes rebuscando en guías botánicas hasta dar con la ajedrezada, que me llevó hasta mi concreta especie de fritilaria.

Creo que no tengo nada más que decir. Debería releer esto para ver si me dejo algo pero definitivamente no me apetece.

-24-

Reanudo mi redacción por enésima vez. Últimamente pierdo la dama muy al inicio de la partida, y astonishingly aún así gano.

Por cierto, fugaz aparición de Nemo hoy. Todo un poco frustrante.

-26-

Hablé con J ayer. Va, bien. Quería enseñarme esto. Espero que no se haya tomado mal mi opinión. He recuperado Facebook, los dos que tenía. Pero sólo un poco.

No sé, estoy rara. Ayer hablando con J le puse un 7/10 a mi vida. Luego me paré a pensar y creo que me pasé de optimista. No sé. Tampoco me parecería justo quejarme, porque indudablemente tengo una vida-base de 10: casa, comida, educación, ropa, y encima libros, ordenador, móvil, internet... y restando un punto por problema, me queda algo entre 5 y 6,. Supongo que lo que falla son los criterios, pero no quiero complicarme la vida, así que voy a dejar de divagar.

A(d)emás eh que te quiero

Ermh.

Varias cositas que vaciar aquí.

Voy a empezar con mi absoluto enfado con el colectivo de Niñas Rubias. Y pensar que yo también fui una de ellas, parece mentira. La cuestión es la siguiente: el sábado a la mañana tres miembros de dicho colectivo se dedicaron a torturar, primero a la Enana, que ya me mosqueó bastante, y luego a E.. Mierda, ¡hicieron llorar a E.! Eso va más allá de lo que puedo soportar. Una banda de petardas llamando a gritos a un niño autista para luego salir despavoridas a esconderse, gritando. Les monté una bronca ejemplar. Eso no se le hace a nadie, y menos a alguien así. Además es que una de ellas es su hermana. Me enfadó y me entristeció mucho, y me pareció algo así como patético. Lo peor fue que así como la Enana sí vino antes a que la consolara, E. Se limitó a lloriquear encaramado a un muro. Fue frustrante. No sé, pienso en ello y me siento inútil, porque haga lo que haga va a seguir pasando, si no en el pueblo, en la escuela, y si no, a cualquier otra criatura, pero seguirá pasando.

Al hilo de esto, E. El curso que viene empieza en un centro especial, “Istarria” del que me tengo que informar. Bueno, su padre dice que está bien, pero conozco esos centros y desconfío de todos por instinto.

Su padre también me comento que quiere que les de clases de apoyo a los tres en verano. Así que el verano pinta espectacular, claro. Ya estoy mirando materiales y cosas, si alguien pasa por aquí que tenga alguna idea, que por favor la comparta.

Pasando al siguiente tema:

D.: necesito un nombre para ella, ya que Rubia está cogido. Cada día que la veo me cae mejor. No sé, es como, maja. Tenemos cosas en común, lo cual es muy gracioso. Tampoco puedo decir mucho más. El otro día hablamos largo rato y me planteé preguntarle si antes iba a casa de L., pero no me salió la voz. Quiere aprender sueco, y dejó comunicación. Detesta las comedias románticas. Suele llegar hasta la puerta del Sario y en el último momento decidir no entrar. Es fumadora, pero en su casa no lo saben. Ahora que lo pienso, el concepto en su casa impide que sea la D. de L., así que me ahorro la pregunta.

Pero no se me ocurre un nombre que encaje.

Por último, está el tema de “El Amarillo”, al cual también tengo que buscarle un nuevo nombre porque ése tiene connotaciones de “niñato-pijo-flipado-guaperas de mierda”, y hace ya tiempo que me cae bien. Cada vez mejor, de hecho. Ayer estuve repasando y aparte de lo dicho es inteligente, tiene una voz dulce, o bonita, o algo; unos ojazos espectaculares, juega al ajedrez GENIAL y con rasgos de libre pensador, es hiperactivo luego raro, y, no sé, al parecer le caigo bien. No soy una persona que caiga bien en general. Quemaría su armario, pero es algo que puedo soportar. Y está esa misteriosa tendencia de pasar tiempo en Ulzurrun pudiendo estar en Pamplona que todavía no entiendo. Debe de gustarle. Debe de gustarme.

Acabo de decidirlo: se va a llamar ‘Nemo’.

Para cerrar el post en condiciones, añado dos citas:

“¿Por qué estudiar el lenguaje? Hay muchas respuestas posibles y al centrar mi atención sobre alguna de ellas no pretendo, por supuesto, menospreciar a las otras ni poner en cuestión su legitimidad. Unos puede, por ejemplo, sentirse simplemente fascinado por los elementos del lenguaje en sí mismos y querer descubrir su orden y disposición, su origen en la historia o en el individuo o cómo se usan en el pensamiento, en la ciencia o en el arte, o en el intercambio social cotidiano. Una razón para estudiar el lenguaje –y personalmente para mí la más motivadora- es el hecho de que resulta tentador considerar el lenguaje, según reza la expresión tradicional, como un ‘espejo de la mente’. No quiero decir con esto simplemente que los conceptos expresados y las distinciones desarrolladas en el uso normal del lenguaje nos permitan entender los esquemas del pensamiento, y el mundo del ‘sentido común’ construido por la mente humana. Más fascinante, para mí al menos, es la posibilidad de que a través del estudio del lenguaje podamos descubrir los principios abstractos que gobiernan su estructura y uso, los cuales son universales por necesidad biológica y no meros accidentes históricos, y derivan de características mentales de la especie.” Chomsky (1075: 21-13)

“De los niños con síndrome de Williams se dice en ocasiones que tienen “cara de duende” o “aspecto de gnomo” [...]. Presentan un retraso considerable, con C.I. de 50 y se muestran incompetentes en tareas normales como atarse los zapatos, orientarse espacialmente, coger objetos de un armario, distinguir la izquierda de la derecha, sumar dos números, llevar una bicicleta y reprimir su instintiva tendencia a abrazar a los desconocidos. Sin embargo, [...], son conversadores muy fluidos, aunque algo remilgados.” Pinker (1994: 54)

[Reflexión: ¿Es reprimir una instintiva tendencia a abrazar desconocidos una tarea normal?]