2 Shovelings and Zero Thanks

Well, I thought the Snowapocalysis ended after the big storm that hit US a couple of weeks ago. Here in Ottawa we had, I hope, our last Winter storm…more than 20cm. I truly believe predicting the weather is worst than predict the temper of any woman (especially one with menopause). But for an unknown reason I believed this time the storm would start just in the afternoon.

Around 9 am snow started falling, first in an unoffensive way and then more and more every hour and finally the snow was so dense than in the windows it seemed it was covered by a white tissue. I got nervous because I know the contractor who cleans the snow in my building is a jerk, never comes or just comes when the landlord calls him. Last time, in the big storm he just appeared the next day around 6 am and cleaned just the alleys and nothing else.

When I went to pick up my car at my office, there was a little wall of snow, I had  little troubles to get out my car but I made…I was nervous…”did the guy cleaned the parking at home?” and I started to drive. It was the most dangerous drive ever!!! I couldn’t see anything because the snow falling, the white tissue was in front of me…, the city didn’t clean the roads at that time, happily I just live 5 min by car that took me like 10. I drove carefully when I arrive to my building my nightmares came true…no way: like 15 cm of snow. I remembered last time I got stuck in snow, the guy who helped me told me…”if you want to go inside don’t turn, you must entered straight”, so I invaded the other line of the street and went inside straight….I made it!!!  but I almost got stuck in the middle of the alley. Then I saw my spot totally covered…so I decided to park in front of that spot…there I almost got stuck again…I was very lucky.

I had surgery in January, I’m not supposed to do heavy lifting or hard physical things but I had no choice to clean my spot. I had a break and around 5pm. I saw on my window a car got stuck in the entrance of the alley, I went back again to the parking to clean again the spot since snow was getting worse and falling non stop. One girl came and try to pass in front of me….she made 1mt distance when she got stuck. I decided to help her ( I can be so nice or so stupid), so, with my little pale, I started shoveling, pushing the car back and forward…and it didn’t move at all. I was talking to her (she never introduced her self and I didn’t want to ask either) when she said “I thought by this time the place would be clean, I even bought pizza for dinner”, we tried again to push the car (that’s why automatic cars suck, they aren’t that good as sticks) and then I saw another car which wanted to go our way, she saw us and made a turn, then she was almost in front of us when she got stuck. I decided to ask her for help “we can help you if you can help us”, she agreed and we pushed back and forward…guess what…it didn’t work out!. We try to do the same with her car, I was shoveling to give a little space of freedom to the tires…it didn’t move at all. I sent a message to the landlord saying 2 cars were stuck. Both almost in front of each other, one almost in front of mine. When I saw that I thought…”tomorrow morning will be a hell to take out the car”. One of the girls called the landlord and I even offered my phone but she refused, made the call and after hanging she said “he said I should ask my mother to help me”. They put papers on the windows with their phones and left…without telling me anything…no thanks, no asking my name, no nothing. People at my building are working class, but it think it means no class, almost all of them work at hospitals or in constructions sites, rarely they say hi. I didn’t ask their names because I wanted to test them and to see their reaction. I was very disappointed but also I questioned myself …again…about to be generous, helpful and just “good”. I was good with my ex and I got messed up, I lots everything. When I tried to help the girl she got stuck in front of my car…I had to do double work….being good is sometimes synonymous to be a total idiot.

I woke up around 3.30am…I went to the parking…the snowbank was higher than ever…I shoveled again…the car almost got stuck, this time the snow guy did the job half right, snowbanks were everywhere, I manage to pull out the car and then I parked in my clean spot (where there was another snowbank) so, finally, around 4.30am I “cleaned” my parking problem. I called the landlord around noon telling him the snow guy came at 6am without cleaning inside the parking and I asked him to call him because the snowbanks were awful. He apologized and said “thanks for letting me know, next year I’ll change contractor”. I hope, I really hope this will be the last storm of the season.

I left early the office because I got an appointment with the surgeon who performed my surgery, that doctor with no social skills….my appointment was at 3pm, I was there 2.50pm…I waited, and waited, I saw a young lesbian playing with her iPhone, the army of pregnant women waiting with me watching “The Notebook”, movie they played all last year and which it mean they will play this year, and I waited more…and more…and more…until 4pm when I stood up and I say ” can I have another appointment?” and the assistant said “don’t you want to wait?” “Wait? it’s been 1 hour” She replied “but there is 2 more patients” “And I will leave at 5pm”…I said…she said “we finished at 4.30pm” I said “this is ridiculous, I want another appointment” . When she gave my new appointment I said ” at 11am which means 11.30am” I took the card and I left…without saying THANKS.


The White Leather Jacket

Interesting things happened this week, but the most scary was just yesterday when I went to take a look at my favorite second hand store. But let’s started in order.

Monday was holiday here in Ottawa, Family day, everybody working at the province had day off …everybody but me…since I work under the federal jurisdiction. But Church organized an activity. I decided to go and it was nice. There were totally unhealthy food like chips, sausages, cookies, and some fruits with chocolate. I greeted the Minister and I spoke to a retired woman (again, members of this congregation are over 60). She lives in a home for seniors and she told me they’re organizing a calendar…with half naked members of the retiring house. I had to pick up my jaw…just like in the British movie “Calendar Girls”. I got astonished but then my morbidity started to work…”ummm, old naked chicks….I need to buy that calendar”, the woman told me they weren’t totally naked…but anyways…now my curiosity is totally awake.

At that moment, my American friend arrived but first, his boyfriend came with a tasteless vegetarian pizza. He’s a bit taller, taller than me but same high that my friend, he’s fat, with a horrible half-made tattoo in his arm, almost head shaved and wore a cap….he’s transsexual, female to male (FTM). I was looking at him, it’s the first time I meet a FTM, I spoke all my life with MTF, all them their transition was good, aesthetically speaking I mean. I tried to talk again to the woman at my table and my American friend came and introduced to me to his boyfriend. We shake hands, his hand had feminine texture, his face was under the hormones …which means, his face had some female traits. His voice too, her hips show despite his obesity, female curves. I don’t know how long he’s taking hormones but changes aren’t that much to say physically he looks like a man, it looks more like a butch. He was sitting in another space with my American friend and seemed ok. But he was always behind his girlfriend. Once she told me she never calls him “boyfriend” just partner, she said “because is not the right thing to say boyfriend, he’s not totally that, partner is the right term”. Of course, I don’t think she said that to him. He lives in Portland and comes or my friend goes time to time. Yes, long distance relationship. Will this work out? I don’t know, so far, when people are geographically distance, the gatherings are intense…until they live together and want to go back at the distant past. I lived that experience.

All week was ok, but yesterday since I got nothing to do at night, I went to the second hand store looking for black pants. No luck…the funny thing is I was day dreaming about a white leather jacket, dyke style and I wasn’t able to find one, not even a new one. I thought of my ex, she had a nice one, well, I remembered that jacket as the hottest one. So, I after my lack of luck in the pants section I went to see a leather jacket….and look what I found…my ex jacket! No kidding, it was her jacket….I remember she had a Medium size which it was giant for me. I got paralyzed…it can’t it be hers. Suddenly I remembered “Being Jessica”, in the tv series the subject of the past was the best or some souvenirs we keep in our minds are beautiful….when every time she jumps back in to the past to live that beautiful moment again…she realizes it wasn’t. I experienced the same thing. I thought it was the hottest jacket and when I saw it again…it was ugly, and it looked like plastic…I inspected every single detail…just to make sure it was HER jacket, I even smelled it. It had a perfume odor…just like her. I’m sure it was her jacket. I tried and yes, it was too large for me…then, I thought, why her jacket is there? Well, the jacket looks out of time, not fashion anymore, 4 years ago was nice, not anymore or…her ex or somebody he knew got it and tried to get rid of it. I checked the clothes section to see if there were more clothes of her…nothing…it was really weird.

I went back home totally disturbed…thinking and thinking what happened that to me….why…and why again…it was like she was trying to get in contact with me…because I don’t want to be in contact with her…I just drove upset and a bit mad…me, trying to meet new people and I found her bloody jacket…like if something in past was still hooked…I want to get rid of all that… I do more activities outside…it’s nice…but no luck to meet women with brains…so hard to find those ones….tomorrow I got the grieving group meeting…will I check this event?… Past is past, coincidence is coincidence…whatever it was…it wasn’t funny, but still, I’m looking for a hot white leather jacket.

Post Single St Valentine’s Day

Almost one week since the grief group met last Saturday….I’m start thinking I’m not grieving…probably because I got over things in my past…I could be wrong but I’ll go tomorrow just in case, also, despite it can be hard and depressing, after all, it’s another activity.

Many things happened this week. The Pope quit. I was reading the newspaper of my country, hypocritical Catholic, and for them it was almost a scandal. Usually one of the ideas of Catholicism is you work there until you die, you work for everybody, you’re not the first in the line, not in your life, the other are first. That’s why I was a scandal. I learnt since little you should give everything for your family and friends, they first. Since the Pope is German, and Europeans are different from Latinos and he chose first for himself…it’s ok. I knew he was very Orthodox but I never imagined he would give his resign in Latin, I was expecting Italian. Nobody told him Latin is an official dead language? This is a proof he tried to keep and maintain the Catholic “old school”, his restrictions against women to be priest and of course…homosexuality considered as more than abomination. I don’t forget all the pederasty cases recently discovered inside the Church (and he tried to keep quiet as much as he could). The world has changed, times has changed…but Catholic dogma doesn’t and refuse to do it…however, Benedict used Twitter. So Twitter is allow but not condoms, Am I right?, silence and blindness for the horrible abuses of Church was a social standard, it was hidden but homosexuality must be condemned or punished. He did right to quit…and it was funny because the same is happening right now I saw in the comedy film “We have a Pope” (Habemus Papam) by Nani Moretti….all the cardinals are praying for not to be chosen and the new Pope elected goes to therapy. I’m a strong believer of Evolution, but with Benedict was a total Involution, regression and go back in almost Medieval times. I’m glad he stepped back. Now, the 10 millions questions is….the new Pope, will he be progressive? more open? ready to do some changing? It’s not important what nationality he will be…the changes are. Open a Facebook account for the Vatican is not that important…is the opening and admitting changes are mandatory, respect is needed, tolerance and acceptance for everybody…specially for gay people who were considered evil and satanist just for loving …They event strip off the gays the right to love and be loved…something so essential like oxygen, like blood in your veins, like food in your table like money in your wallet. Anyways…let’s see what happens.

Oscar Pistorius, Blade Runner was accused to murder his girlfriend…the paradox here is what she wrote in her Twitter account just before Valentine’s day was “What do you have up your sleeve for your love tomorrow???” she tweeted. “… It should be a day of love for everyone 🙂 may it be blessed!”…She was expecting 4 shots. I don’t know Pistorius, his personality or his habits, but conjugal violence (he was accused of that last year) background won’t help him. OMG, how many crimes people can commit in the name of love. Now that he’s detained…his name should be “Bladder Runner”…he must be literally sick to dead for his future.

My week was kind of weird because all those events. I went to see Dr Marko for the filling in my root canals…she emptied the teeth and put new filling. Wouldn’t be reasonable the other dentist do it just once? and not repeating and expending another 500$ for that? Can anybody explain me the logic of dental procedures in this country? In Peru, the guy did everything once, one filling and a pin. Marko didn’t put a pin. I said “what if it breaks?” she said ” it won’t break”….sure, if it breaks guess who’s gonna pay it. GRRRRRRRR.

At the office we got appreciograms. You buy .50c of candies and it was delivered to people you chose to get one. I spent 6$, and do you believe I receive one from somebody? No, nobody sent me one. Even in my team, the leaders sent chocolates and candies to every member but me. I was feeling like a kid of 5 years old saying in my head “nobody loves me”. At lest, people who received the candies said thanks to me, all but 4 people.

I tried to keep myself busy at home. Nothing special for me, just French fries with fish. My cat had fish too and we almost had an orgy of love…after all she has 6 tits. Well, I love her, so I just spent a lot of time with her kissing her..and then I thought this: Valentinus was  arrested for continuing to serve Jesus and was sent to the prefect of Rome, to the emperor Claudius, he took a liking to him until Valentinus tried to lead Claudius to Jesus, whereupon Claudius refused and condemned Valentinus to death, commanding that he either renounce his faith or he would be beaten with clubs, and beheaded. Valentinus refused and Claudius’ command was executed outside the Flaminian Gate February 14, 269. What a happy Valentine’s day!

Grief Group I (Blood Rules)

Time ago, an Argentinian guy, who worked so many years at the United Nations and who traveled a lot around the world said on his tv program “In this country in Africa, when people say bad news, they put a big smile in their faces and say for example <my son die>” Of course, the person who wasn’t from this country got shocked…”his son died and his smiling, this person is crazy”. He explained later, this custom to say bad news smiling it was practiced for not hurting or worrying the person who listened the bad news.

I went to the grief group at Church. There were 4 people with similar stories to grief. When I came there was one woman named Lyne, who spoke about everything, ex teacher, starting comparing internet prices, astronomy, about her iPad etc etc etc. Every time I meet somebody like her, my first impression is: this person is totally alone by herself. Another participant came and she started to ask her many questions…never stop talking. Then a man came. He sat in his corner and Lyne talked to him asking for his name. Finally, my friend from India, who tried to commit suicide (and I wrote about it in an old post) arrived. The 2 leaders of the group

At some point Lyne, raised her hand as kid for talking and with a big smile said “my name is Lyne and my husband die”. One of the leaders told her to keep that info for later. The dynamic was to talk for some minutes with the person beside you about why he/she was here at the meeting group. I went to talk to Ken, a man in his 80’s in good shape. Candidly I asked him “why are you here?” and he said “my wife died of ovary cancer (metastasis) last November, after 2 months to be diagnosed she passed away, quickly. I got a son in London (Ontario) and I live right now with my grandson but when he leave for his Summer vacations I’ll be alone”.  I was speechless, to be honest I wasn’t sure if I should be in that group. I just asked some more questions and he started opening his heart, saying he had no friends, only a bunch of guys who grab a beer in a pub. I was expecting he asked me about myself thing he didn’t. I just said I was there because I was alone and my mother didn’t accept me as gay. Ken seemed sad, what I like of this congregation is you can say you’re gay to somebody of 90 years old and he find it so cool.

Then, the other woman, which I don’t remember her name said his husband (but seemed separated) died of lung cancer last year. She said, the doctors never given more details about his illness, she was more angry that sad about how the health care system how treated her partner. She added she had a teenager of 14. At some point her daughter said “I have nobody to turn to”. Of course, the mother was in shock, she was the week mother and her partner was the father weekend. She wasn’t able to handle her loss and she admitted she couldn’t help her daughter either. She cried several times.

Lyne, was less talkative this time, her husband died in 2006. The thing I remember of her was when she said she wakes up in the morning grabbing the sheets and saying “I have to do everything alone”.

My Indian friend was open to about her reasons to be at the grief group. She said she had a sister who committed suicide, she was anorexic too. I knew she came to Canada as a refugee but she explained she was born in Uganda but then her family went to another city, there, her sister took care of her with her grandmother while her parents went to work to another country. When the parents came back they took her to Canada while, her sister went to England. She was never permitted to ask about her dead. Her parents denied she killed herself with a drug overdose. Her parents went angry if she inquiry about it. When she said that I couldn’t help to think of Alison Bechdel when she said her father committed suicide, despite all evidence says it was an accident. She talked also about her relationship to her girlfriend, 20 years together, that her relationships is changing, like a kid that goes to kinder and then to school and then college etc. I liked her example. The interesting thing was she found a picture of her sister and she was shocked because she realized all girls she dated looked physically as her sister. She died in August, as far as she remembers, she broke up with them in that month, all, obviously unconscious.

I didn’t say much about my self. I didn’t want to. Do you remember that tv show “Go On”, the guy goes to a grief group and started doing a competition which one there had the most pathetic story. They found a winner. There, at my grief group, at least, I felt nobody was competing to say the saddest story (and it’s true that happens in those kind a help groups). We finish our first encounter with a silent meditation. The woman who lost her husband was crying all the time.

I got some conclusions about it. Ken was very worry because he took care of her dying wife…but when he’ll be die…who will take care of him? For him, his son wasn’t enough or probably he didn’t believe he would be there as closer as his wife. Lyne, was also concerned about it…and of course, her phrase “I have to do everything alone” shows her loneliness or at least to have a significant other closer to her. The other woman was just too in anger crying for her loss…she said her husband even dying, was worry about her…saying “who can take care of you?”, my Indian friend said aloud, the genetic family, that here, the family, the nuclear family, dad, mom and children are the core of everything. There is no connection with the world outside that. Yes, blood rules, only the family and most of the time, your spouse have the right to take care of you in difficult moments…a friend is not allow, even closer friends…put distances in this “family issues”, death or no matter what loss is a closed and private issue.

All of them said they were basically alone, alone with no relatives, alone with no partners (exception my Indian friend) …I felt weird…totally weird…because I’m really alone, in another country, with limited resources, I took care of myself during my recovering. I don’t wake in the morning saying “I have to do everything alone”, because I do it every day, moving without any help or advise, struggling and stumbling with small or big rocks …still, should I grief? I’m a lone…and who will take care of me in my last days?….

The Lesbian and The Pseudo Fashion Cat

Despite all the money I’m investing in health, dental care and physiotherapy, I’m still got some dollars for banalities and probably some frivolities.

I’m still going to the second hand store, this Goodwill one has changed and in my humble opinion, its strategy to get more profit based in order could work…or it couldn’t if you’re not the lucky one. They changed the special sales days. Before it was Friday (or some Fridays) when everything was half price. Now, they divided the week for different categories.  Tuesdays is 50% books, dvd’s and cd’s. Wednesday is 50% cookware and kitchenware, Thursday is 50% shoes and purses. Friday is 50% electrical and sporting goods. Saturday 50% on furniture. I went on Wednesday not remembering the new sales policy and I found something, something really nice. Well, I love bags, despite I don’t travel almost never (ok, never, last time I went on real vacations to Niagara Falls…was in 2008).

I looked at the big or medium size brown with pink lines on it. There were several holes…I thought it was a big bag for bowling balls…but no. Then I realized so many holes is because…it needs aeration…for a pet. Yes, it was  a pet bag…but not an ordinary bag, it was Matt & Nat. This trade mark is made in Montreal. Years and years ago, when I was living in Montreal, I used to look its products at the bag stores in St-Hubert street (most Latinos and Arab business are there). I always thought it was leather, it looked like it, so fancy, so beautiful, so classy and of obviously, so expensive. I never bought one for myself, I’m such an idiot because I bought one to my ex-bitch. Just last year I discovered Matt & Nat is a vegan company, their products are made of recycled plastic, fiber or paper (probably a logical explanation of its high price), you know, you don’t find so many Matt & Nat’s on the street, not in Ottawa.

That Wednesday I just went to the second hand store because I wanted to check some cd’s (despite the sale day was the day before) and when I took a look at the miserable bag section, behind a curtain (then I thought somebody hide it) I found that brown and pink-lined bag…yes…in a second hand store…a real Matt & Nat pet bag. I had my doubts for buying it…”does my cat need it?” I thought…I’ve already bought a pet voyager cage, big and comfortable…but come on, a Matt & Nat bag…she wouldn’t complain. With some doubts I went to front desk for paying. The cashier in the morning is a man in his 50’s with a psycho-motor problem, looks like brain damage did something with his body and muscles, he can talk, I mean, I can understand, sometimes I don’t, walks with difficulties and after his shift he uses his electric wheelchair. He is super nice and he’s always in good spirits, he’s social, we talk sometimes, he makes jokes and me too. Cool person. He started to look for the price, me too, “probably is inside” he said and yes, the price was there…40$ “Oh, that’s expensive” I said, yes, for a second hand bag and then I said “tomorrow is the special half price, I’ll be back tomorrow”. I picked up the bag, I put on the shelf and I went to  the cd section and I found “Buena Vista Social Club” and I bought it.

Today, I went to work as usual, boring and dead as usual, not many invoices these days despite the fiscal year end is coming (in Canada is March 31st), so I left the office at 11.30 and went to the store. From the distance I saw a big bag..and then…OMG, the bag wasn’t there, not anymore. I checked in all shelves, I went to the clothes sections, shoes, painting, kitchenware…nothing, I made a tour like 3 times…nothing again. I was in shock…I was sad…I was almost devastated …my fashion dream, well, not mine, well, mine because it would be for my beloved cat…gone, totally gone.

So, I was walking in slow motion, sad and thinking…”who the hell bought it?”. I went to the cd section and found U2 “The Josua Tree”, I bought it. I went to the front desk, the same guy of yesterday was there, with his big glasses, he smiled and I said “how are you today?”. I said “I’m sad, the bag I wanted to buy yesterday…somebody already took it, did you see somebody with the bag?” He said no, he saw nobody, at least when he was there. He looked at me and he said “Probably is wasn’t mean for you. If you didn’t have it is because something better will come later”, I was surprised of his answer. I said…”yes, maybe”. He added “next time if you see something you really need, you really want it, don’t risk…take it” and added “come the day of the offer not the day before”. At that point, I think this man was giving me a big lesson. Life is full of bags, but also full of opportunities, ideals, people, hopes, expectations. His words could be applied to anything we wanted once and we waited and we couldn’t reach it…for doubts, for fear, for some other silly or realistic situations. That man, that for the law in considered as handicapped or physically challenged gave me a big one lesson…if shouldn’t risk important things …I mean, really important things. The bag is a bag, a nice one, I really wanted it, but well, for a second hand 40$ was too high for me and if somebody else bought it at 20$ today…it was meant for that person and its pet. I got a cage, well, my cat has one…so, in theory, I didn’t need it…but if something nice and bigger is coming…it will come at its time.

I left the store with my U2 cd. I headed work again…the song “but I still haven’t found what I’m looking for” was playing…yes, some things are meant to be in different moments…next time, my bitchy cat will have something fashion…in the meantime, her slave writes in her blog…and waits…a major Winter storm is coming, we expect 15cm or 20cm of snow between tonight and tomorrow all day. I think I’ll take the bus just in case, I live closer to work anyways. And by the way, the real price of that bag in the market was 150$.

Gay Piñata

Saturday was a social busy day. Social? Me? social? Well, I experienced a strange social day and as the Radiohead rockymentary says “meeting people is easy” I decided to embrace the Facebook knowledge or oracle on these days and I went to 2 activities.

Somebody from Church opened a little restaurant, Mexican Oaxaca style in Vanier, Ottawa. In fact, I remember helped her doing her financial preparations and budget, estimations of rent, gas, salaries etc. She should have opened in October but paperwork and renovations pushed her to start just in December. This is not a restaurant itself, it’s most catering, they cook food to go. There is a regular size table, some stools, and 2 chairs, not big as you see. The kitchen is the size of my bedroom, with 4 people exceptionally working there it seemed too crowed. I came around 11.45 am. There was an accident at the highway so I was a bit stressed driving and thinking why the inauguration couldn’t wait until Spring?…When I arrived I did my anthropological observation, I took my cellphone and as good National Geographic reporter took  pictures of everything that moved or didn’t move. The Guadalupe image was there, even if my friend isn’t Catholic (she’s Unitarian like me), flowers, animals of clay with colors they could blind you and a piñata was hanging outside, in a form of star with fancy colors…I was able to talk to my friend, she looked like a zombie, she worked until 2 am and started that day at 6am, that’s the problem when you got a job like that, you become slave of  your business.

Ok, now, when you think in something Mexican or from Oaxaca, or even Peru, what exactly do you think  For me is simple: third world, colors, Catholic images, precarious order, improvisation, slow motion but loving and flashy decoration. Mitla, my friend’s restaurant is like that. In fact, is not a restaurant as I said before, but well, you have to call somehow. The newspaper of Ottawa, Vanier and radio talked about this place, good reviews so far…but remember, if you plan to come with your family of 4 plus friends…it will be already crowed. Space is limited. What surprised me the most was people who helps my friend in the kitchen are young which a reasonable person could think is synonymous of dynamism…which is this case is not the case. One of them was working in slow motion. One customer asked her for hot chocolate and she served it almost cold…after apologizing the real order came. I just started with a tea…then, just like that a customer came, tall, dark skin, with glasses wearing sporty clothes. He orders Pozole soup (pork and corn) and tamales and we just started to talk and bla, bla, bla, he told me he was from Montreal, we exchanged some phrases in French and he told me he was a social worker that when he decided to move here in Ottawa was a family drama “what are you going to do there? there is nothing in Ottawa”, at some point he asked me to try his soup (big bowl), I noticed he was immigrant, only an immigrant can do dare that. I tasted the soup…it was delicious…sublime, like momy’s. I asked for a soup too and also try one empanadas, which in Peru is different from the Oaxaca (made with a tortilla and not dough) and since I’m vegetarian I had no choice to try the chicken empanada…the reason I stopped to eat chicken is its plastic taste, no matter what I added is tasteless but this chicken, as my friend told me, was from a farm where they walk, eat flies, I mean, what a normal chicken does…and believe, the taste is different. It was just orgasmic. The guy was sitting beside me told his name…something like Ashmed or something like that, we continued to talk and more people arrive, since the place is small, everybody says hi, thing abnormal in Ottawa. Well, he finished his lunch and we said bye wishing to meet again at Mitla.

f4e7ce44785899772ecac141cb5b08d9More and more people come to the restaurant, I feel bad and I left my chair…a friend of my business’ friend named Jeffrey , he says hi, introduces himself and take my place and the other chair beside mine for his friend Jeff. Yes, 2 Jeffreys, both gays.. Jeffrey is a cheff in downtown and tells me to take his chair and I started to talk to Jeff .In front of us there was a Mexican family, mom, dad, daughter and in-law with a kid, everybody speaks Spanish but the kid, which is very common the second generation of immigrants, they lose their mother tongue, only Indians, Chinese and Greeks preserve this with jalousie…not the Latinos. It was super nice talking to Jeff. He told me he worked in a Anglican Church, he seemed very spiritual but the root of that is because he was lost at some point in his life, as he said himself, that now at his 40’s he’s reaching the balance. He admits had excess but added Jeffrey helped to be grounded. They meet in a party, later on, he showed me a picture where both were disguised. Jeffrey with other friends as ABBA and Jeff as faraon. So funny, I recalled the video of Eurasure when they disguise as ABBA too, he laughed, I said I love Pet Shop Boys, he told me he does remixes on his computer, that he likes House and Trance, I said “me too”. He had so many things in common. I invited to visit Unitarian Church. Jeffrey was interested too. And then I said I went to Madonna’s concert and he told he went twice to see her. I  said the population in the concert was half gay and half over 50’s. When I said the word “gay”, the Mexican family felt uncomfortable. The more gay issues were discussed, the more they turned their faces to us…real Latinos.

More and more people were coming. Time for whacking the piñata, my friend’s son invited me to hit it first, I did it twice and he smashed breaking up the piñata…publicity, candies and chocolates were on the snowy floor. I came back inside, where it was already difficult to find a place and after almost 2 hours, I was able to pay. Before living Jeff asked me for my Facebook and I gave it to him. I left very happy that place, full belly, happy heart as we said in Peru.

At night I had a party at my German’s friend, who by the way, she’s harassing to give her my blog…I won’t give it to her…to personal, not that personal for the world wide web. She plays guitar so I bought her a Jazz method book, she was happy, really happy, her husband, a guy crazy about soccer like me cooked Goulash, there were lots of bottles of wine. I met several people who work at the same place as I, that was funny. Then, she and 2 of her friends started to play guitar and singing…a kind of improvised karaoke started…and me who hates singing….anyways, the torture was for only 1 hour. Later, somebody put a house music on the cd player…and old chicks over 50 and 60, me included, we were dancing, don’t ask for choreography at that age but it was fun. I met a retire lawyer and another public servant, I met a volunteer coordinator of Sheppards of Good Hope and some other people that I don’t remember…what a social Saturday, free good food and nice ambiance.

For the intrepids who wants to try something different, go to Mitla, if you ask to go it would be better because there is no a restaurant, no big enough for that. http://www.mitla.ca or https://www.facebook.com/mitlaottawa

Grieving Workshop

Another week gone. I will go back to work next Monday. My surgery scar is healing quickly, I feel a bit of pain but is not a big deal, since I work tapping and walking it should be an issue. Although, I’ve been very tired, I felt like my cat, we were sleeping together in bed, sharing sheets, after having breakfast I crashed the bed several times, just sleeping or napping, I don’t know how many hours I slept…I feel so tired without doing much.

It’s been 2 weeks I started the physiotherapy for my teeth pain, in fact, aren’t my teeth but the muscles of the jaw, since the bite has been changed so many times…the physiotherapist, a bilingual mother of 2 girls (one on wheelchair) with a nice fuchsia bunch of hair is taking care of it. She gave me 3 exercises to do and she gives massages and pulls some muscles inside my mouth that pain is almost gone, almost, I think I’ll need some weeks to be completely out of the woods. Again, the phenomena of paying somebody to touch me happens again. She is nice and talkative, she asked where I’m from, why I came to Canada, how long I’ve been here etc etc etc. I showed her my cat’s picture…at least somebody I can talk for 65$, 30 minutes of pain for releasing pain.

I saw my friend who told me I didn’t love myself (last post I wrote about her), she said she was worried about me. I told her that the only thing that bothered me was bloody phrase “you should love you more”…and she said “I don’t remember telling you that” I got puzzled …I don’t have Alzheimer and I didn’t invent it. Anyways, she continued denying it I continued to repeat it over and over and over again…whatever…I just told her I was having some health issues and I was in pain (before going to the physiotherapist)…she told me there is a grief group at Church to be open in February, she told me I should go. I said “grieving? about what? my breakup? that was like 5 years ago?” , she said “it can be many things, the dentist thing, the sensation of being alone, the ups and downs….” at some point when I was telling her everything I was going through she said “it seems to me that’s grieving”. I was in silence…I don’t know if she’s right…but I got nothing to lose if I go.

Since is my last week at home, I wanted to do something interesting or fun, so I went to the Great Canadian Theater to see the play “Blue Box”. I went with somebody of Church…damn, this guy is retired, super talkative but never but never takes a shower…it was hard to get concentrate with him besides me. He bought the tickets, on the phone he said you can pay me 25$, the price of the ticket was 40$. When we met at the theater the ticket price was 45$ (I saw the printed price) but I only had 30$ so I gave it to him and he spent most of the time talking with the volunteers…it was a relief for me…skunky guy was away for a while. The play was boring, a bit vulgar, it looked it more like a stand-up comedy. It was about a Chilean woman dealing with the dictatorship of Pinochet, her trips to Canada where she became refugee or something like that, her lovers etc etc etc. She tried to mix present, past and future of all the stories but I wasn’t following it her very well, some other too. She spoke several Spanish phrases for some people this was like Chinese. Also, the auditorium was full of people over 70, I looked like a teenager. Well, 90 minutes for that, 90 minutes for 30$, I couldn’t believe the real price was 45$…waste of money and time…

At the end I just left the theater without saying good bye to skunky guy since he went to the bathroom and obviously he’d like to talk to all girls in his way out. I was so upset…expending that amount of money for garbage….and I thought I could have expend that money for paying my parking ticket of 55$. Also, I watched some movies early that morning like “Chico & Rita” good movie, an animation about a Cuban musician couple which love affair is shown before and after the Cuban revolution…I watched “Headhunters” a Norwegian movie, super good, I’m not a fun of action movies but this one was super interesting, I really enjoy it….that day ended awfully with that play …and the newspaper said it was a good one…do not believe in everything newspaper say.

Next week can be boring too, despite I’ll work again, my Swedish friend is going to Portugal for a month with her boyfriend…the English guy who likes to spank her every time she shows her bum to him. My hysterectomy scar is doing well, I feel some pain in the abdominal muscles which is normal. I just want the pain of my body disappears, I need a break of muscular pain.