00:36.4

Yesterday’s post was a bit shocking. I lived in Buenos Aires for 25 years and I never could get use to it. I miss my family and friends and I like to go there for a short visit because I don’t feel safe.
I wrote only about one story of seeing a man with the pants near his knees. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the only time. I saw men driving partially naked. They stop the car to ask for directions and when you tell them, they push the accelerator and make some noise so they pretend they don’t hear you, so you go near and you see their parts standing there like trophies. Yes, very sad. The second (and third!!) time it happened to me, I shouted: “I’M NOT FROM HERE”.
I couldn’t live there, not even when I lived there. I’m glad that most women in the city know about that trick.

I got a lot of comments from you, thank you! I couldn’t agree more with this message from AoA 🙂

Paul from alfredsalmanac.com wrote this message. I totally agree with him, some men in my country are creepy. And I want to add that many men EVERYWHERE are creepy. I replied what many of us feel. (Sorry about the extra S).

And I’m really glad about his response. It’s good to know that many men don’t approve that kind of behavior 🙂

How could we stop something like that? How could we change the fact that the persons in charge of protecting us are actually the ones allowing all this to happen? How could we ever trust or ask for help?

One day this will change. One day the guy watching how the neighbor beats up the wife will call the police. And one day the police will actually go to the house. And one day the mother fucker will be in jail, hopefully being beaten by others bigger than him, so he can feel in his own skin what his poor wife felt all those years. One day… Let’s hope it’ s soon.

A couple of days ago I was looking for pictures of myself with different hairstyles to post here. I couldn’t find many because I’m usually the person who takes the pictures. But what I found made me very happy. A few pictures of the New Year Eve 2001/New Year 2002.
At the time, I was leaving in Cowshitland for 4 years and we decided to spend the holidays together with my parents. My oldest son was about 8 months old and I still was happy in my relationship.
That 31st of December, my parents didn’t want to join my youngest uncle because I was there and they thought it was better for us to stay home and make something simple (Thank Goodness!).
We were only seven people that evening, my parents, my cousin and her husband, the man, my son and me.
I’m not sure I mentioned this but the women in my family tend to miscalculate the amount of food to prepare for one event. Like, my mother cooks for Christmas and we’ll be eating left overs until December 30th. That Holidays were not different.
I have to mention that in my country, Christmas is during the summer so most of the Holiday’s foods are cold. One of the traditions is to eat pork. My mom goes go to the butcher around the 15th and “books a pork” for the 31st. The pork has to be around 8kg/18lb. Then she wakes up the 31st and starts preparing the seasoning, because when you roast it (4hrs), you have to take care to add the seasoning several times so it doesn’t get dry.

I know all this because I was told (about 25 times) that that it’s the way to do it. I’m vegetarian and I never ate pork, at least not prepared that way.
Around 9.30am my dad is in charge to get the pork and place it on the cooking tray. By 2pm the pork is ready and my mom goes to have a siesta… A short one, because she still have more food to prepare, otherwise what are we going to eat until January 7th???

And the evening started with a “Picada”.

Then the pork, 3 salads, some more meat, some rolls, chicken prepared with white whine, carrots and black pepper, some vegetarian dish for me (and I’m sure I’m forgetting something!). All this accompanied with “Clericó” (white wine or cider with fruit salad), several jars.

Then, when we finished, we got dessert AND ice-cream. Around 12am the “Pan Dulce” (similar to italian “Panettone”), turrón (nougat), a big selection of dry fruits and nuts AND the cider (for me) and champagne (for the others).
I will write again that we were 7 persons (one baby and one vegetarian).
I have no idea how they could finish almost all the pork, but they did. After midnight, I’m not sure from where they came from, but one of the men appeared with some Cuban cigars. They sat on the backyard to watch the fireworks and smoke (only my cousin’s husband and the man, because I think that my dad could only manage to move his head a few degrees upwards). I had to take a picture.

I remember, like if it was this morning, my cousin saying to her husband: “Are you smoking a cigar again??? Don’t you remember what happened the last time???” I don’t know what happened the last time. What I do know is that the man woke up in the middle of the night to vomit. I didn’t even heard him. When he got back he said: “Don’t use that bathroom, I left the pork there, I think that tomorrow I can reconstruct it like a puzzle”.

That’s my cousin’s husband next day. You can call it “A postcard from how you end up after spending the Holidays with my family”… No idea how Santa’s head got there. (Jordi, if you ever see this, remember I love you!!!)

Dear Twin, I knew I had one more Vomit Story for you!! I hope you are feeling better now 🙂
I know you are!

~ by DotedOn on October 2, 2014.