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ORDER, DISORDER AND MENTAL SLOTH

(This would be a comment to yours on the previous post, but has long as I thought it best to hang it as a new entry).

Hmmm, interesting debate! Daniel, I have not said that disorderly people suffering from mental laziness, but there is some kind of disorder that is characteristic of the mentally lazy (in this case, neither are all that are, or are all they are). And in fact in my first comment was talking about another future entry on the subject.
As far as the ordered chaos and chaotic order, are another matter, which might also be interesting to address in the future.

The truth is that I almost always find what I want (99% percent of the time) but there are a small portion in which no (that 1%), which is desperate, and usually coincides with a breach of one's routine. I, for one, always leave the glasses in the same place when I take them off (in their case in the bathroom when I wear contact lenses, and I have the little table beside the bed before lights out), but the day that I do not, and on the few occasions when I do not wear contact lenses, can not find it ... I need to find them! (I've come to wear contact lenses again, only to find the glasses!).
Now I'm looking for a poem I wrote some time ago (many years), well, I got to find all the poems I've written in my life, except that! Probably because as one of the I looked more profitable, at some point we separated from the rest to have it at hand ... (I still find trust, Max, you owe).

Finally, despite being so tidy, I have a small problem (because I'm also a little "drums"-a Catalan word has a nuance that has no equivalent in Castilian, halfway between anxious and hasty) is me "take off" things without realizing it. I go with something in their hands to keep in place and the phone rings or the doorbell rings, or remember something urgent I have to do ... Loose, where I caught the object (sometimes in very, very unusual) and then, but usually just appearing, I can take days or even weeks to find it, precisely because it is in a "inappropriate" where I never think to look (I can even walk past it several times without seeing it).

So I lost my dearest favorite brooch (a gift of love at the time) a Dodo bird, perhaps some will remember having seen, because he almost always wore on. One day I went to the airport just in time and a very bulky luggage. I had set aside for the rush and put it on I almost forgot it. At the last moment, I took with the intention of prendérmelo in the taxi during the trip. With him in hand, and pulling the suitcase and other packages with the other, went to the newsstand to buy the paper, let out a time to take the wallet ... and forgot to pick it up. When I realized I was on the plane and never appeared (although he asked for my return). I cried with rage, because besides the sentimental value I really liked because it was very original. Now

not suffer much by the things I miss. Over time I developed a kind of Zen doctrine on the subject: not worth worrying about the loss of an object appears at the end if you've had a tough time unnecessary, and if it is not, worrying will not change the result ...

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ZEN

elderly, have learned to use the term in different contexts, but it was not until recently that I have clearly understood the real sense that my mother gave him then. Mental laziness, which is always linked to carelessness and inattention, is one of the most common defects among adults and children. The effort involved in doing something wrong, or put things out of place, assumed the same expenditure of energy to do it properly. The only way to save that energy is not. It costs exactly the same work to collect a room that seems to only pick-and I think this is what my mother wanted us to understand-with the difference that the former is much more useful: it is often helpful to find things later. Therefore, in the medium term even saves energy because there is no wasted time or effort looking for them (where the hell I put it?). The difference is that to keep everything in place (meaning place anywhere that is reasonable) before you have to spend a few seconds to think about how or where.

A certain amount of mental discipline is the basis of logical thought and therefore it depends on everything that reasonably could have on humans. Therefore, analyzing the degree of mental laziness of those around us can be a good criterion when judging people. I mean, since I left home I met all sorts of people, men and women have lived with some-sometimes by choice, others by necessity, almost always with disastrous results (in both cases). Over the years I have noted that most were seriously suffering from mental laziness that is, their heads were fatally furnished. At first glance it may seem like a trivial matter (what a beautiful word!) But, other than make life difficult for me, I'm pretty neat and a little cranky, has allowed me to discover that mental laziness is often the attribute of those who care more about appearances that the essence of things (some exceptions: those whose mental activity is so highly abstract that can not really notice anything around them, but these exceptional beings tend not elaborate). Ergo, things were very simple and superficial intellectual varnish applied (although in these times being branded an intellectual is nothing short of an insult).

APOSTILLE: Let no one think that my mother was a severe, once properly arranged our rooms, then forgot her anger, regained his usual good humor and never kept the penalties imposed during the heated discussion.

EPILOGUE: It's this little box story appeared in the same count as the previous papers, also is dedicated to my mother, but neither can read it.

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This is the music box Cerrado

Since childhood I wanted to have a dollhouse, but I knew my mother did not buy it because we could not afford. The doll house was part of a collection of treasured jealously somewhere in my head with a label saying "things I buy when I grow up and have my own money. "
At twelve I saw Judge hanging of John Huston (in that film, the Lido de Barcelona, \u200b\u200bapplied acccediera policy that anyone who could afford the entrance) and a detail of the film was in my mind, Roy Bean, the judge, he promised his lover that he would give Mexico a music box to store your jewelry as did the real ladies. In the end, I bought the music box, almost too late, because when she handed it dying. Since that day the music box, took his place next to the doll house and all those things he wanted and not could have.
was a few months, returned to settle in Madrid and arrived shortly after my thirteenth birthday. Earlier that day my mother asked me, as so often, to accompany her to make the purchase. But instead to move toward the market, climbed to the top of our street, where a luxury gift shop that was called (I still remember it) Toupie .
entered, my mother asked to see the music boxes, the lady pulled out several small and modest, and I looked very ugly, when she realized it was for me, just a girl. I did not like and my mother did, I remember all were stretched like tiny coffins. My mother read the disappointment on my face and asked to see better ones. The lady said the others were very expensive, my mother, but probably did not spend so much he insisted. The lady went into the back room and brought other more luxurious. Three boxes of those that have two floors open, and opened. Two of them were also ugly, with a ridiculous plastic and tulle ballerina who turned to the sound of music. But the third was beautiful: outside was a landscape in red and black lacquer inlaid with mother of pearl, on the inside of the lid, a mirror on it was painted a delicate seascape with boats and seagulls white on a sea of \u200b\u200bblue ink. I guess my mother read the pleasure on my face because they pointed and said, "that". Mrs. wrapped and my mother moved away so I do not look like the paid (assuming that it is rude to disclose the price of the gifts, and I guess I did not want to reject the realization that it was too expensive) . I do not know what it cost but I was sure that by far the most luxurious gift that could have a little girl of thirteen. For days
proudly showed it to everyone who came to our house, even invited my friends from school to home only to see it. For years he was one of my most prized possessions, a treasure that I showed always my new friend.
The obsessively cleaned, squeezed out until it was shining bright and I loved to wind and hear the music. He had a gentle melody and delicate, very oriental, and distinct from the usual Fur Elise. My desire for cleanliness was very upset cause: trying to clean the mirror, clouded by dust and handling, used alcohol, while rubbing checked erased terrified as the beautiful landscape, but I stopped rubbing and breathed on the glass to the alcohol to evaporate, almost all the gulls disappeared and only two boats were saved and the mountain background. The dislike me for several days.

The music box will open, in the mirror they still

be seen the two boats, the mountain

and left, a lone seagull

As I got older the music box has lost some of its relevance. Although no longer wound it to always sound the melody when opened, or every visitor enthused, always inspired me a special love and never failed to fulfill its mission as a jeweler. Over time suffered minor damage, bruises and scratches, small wounds irreversible ... and ceased to be unique to be accompanied by a multitude of cases, with and without music, because it awakened in me a passion for collecting. Today, half cleared landscape and marks of blows, is still the most beautiful and dear to my collection.

(This is something I wrote years ago, that I dedicate to my mother, although as where is no internet, can not read it yet).

posted by Ondina 23:50 2 comments

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MUSIC BOX OF ALCOHOL VAPORS

Last night I had dinner with a very great friend to I appreciate as few others in a restaurant where I enjoyed the best Steak Tartare (I am a carnivore, sorry) I've had in my life. A restaurant is a bit presumptuous but with a fantastic kitchen and the maitre convencino is my friend.
The place is such that enliven the evening with a pianist. The first series of the piano was nice and nothing else. The second reminded me of a story with an old flame, and for those who live in Madrid (and you have a certain age), a dear old place that no longer exists. The piano stayed awoke a little souvenir. I do not know if many remember Airplane, a bar, almost mythical near the Plaza Manuel Becerra, closed a few months after I moved to live in Barcelona, \u200b\u200bthat is, a little over a decade. It was a dark hole and rundown, characterized primarily by two aspects: the carpeted floor of the sunflower seed shells that the house served for free with all drinks, and his pianist, almost as antiquated as local, that was entertaining evenings playing ballads and tangos. (Shortly after closing local pianist died, say that nostalgia.)
was there one night I received the praise / compliment more fantastic than I have ever spent. I was with someone I loved (and who then was very dear to me)-the same as the dedication of Nobody is perfect, a book of interviews with Billy Wilder gave me, was able to write: "Nobody is perfect, but you make me doubt." At one point I left the table to go to the bathroom when I came back he said, "you're not going to believe, but the next table (where there were two mixed pairs) told me: 'Congratulations, girl who is with you is precious' when I asked him to wait for you to come back and I told you in person, he answered me: 'I'm telling you, because the merit is yours for having conquered' (perhaps the words were not exactly that, but that's what I said unknown).
My companion was flattering in nature, so while I expected it, gave him little credit, thinking it was a story he had invented for me to make me feel good (or even better, because well, very well, I felt). .. until "the table next door", which should have captured part of our conversation, he decided to interrupt to corroborate what I told my companion had happened that way. I have not felt so flattered in my life. That night my contribution, which by then was very high, up several points, as no incentive both to appreciate what we have, like the fact that others appreciate or envy ...
memory mechanisms are unusual, I noted something about it in other entries, but the truth is that this memory almost forgotten has returned to the beats of an old sentimental ballad - Killing Me Softly with His Song - played by a pianist unknown. The only song that the pianist peculiar Airplane, which was very much his own, agreed to play one night (other than the one I mentioned) at the request of a customer (the same as that other night), that asking for his girlfriend (the same as that other night).
above is very personal and maybe a little sappy, I wrote last night, although I polished a bit today. Something must have to do with it, the bottle of wine that we drank side by side, four and four Limoncina Carajillo ... but it's funny to post it here as you read.

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APOSTASY

My friend Max, outraged by the campaigns last
of the Catholic Church, offers from its website
(imaginary office, to which you can access
from the link you left) all those
that are "non-believers liabilities" become
in "active non-believers."
words forsake the Catholic church to stop being numbered among the faithful. From here I support the initiative and encourage all those who figuráis as Catholics by default - that is, because
at the time I was baptized, "but you are not believers and practitioners, to" give-out "of the church. In the page you will find information and links to access the form to be filled.

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... to left-handed

The following was raised in a conversation with Max
of Sastre. Of course, to realize the disadvantages of being left-handed, there must be. Lefties have had bad press since the beginning of time, "doing things left-handed" is synonymous with doing them wrong.

Etymologies
In Latin sinistra certainly has a sinister meaning, in German also means link embarrassed and confused English left, is weak or flaccid, in Euskera Erki esku is equated with "half a hand" ... While rigth also means law, right, and right
is also working. Only applied to the term policy has left a positive meaning, because "
be left" is associated with the defense of progressive ideas.


daily Pitfalls Many objects and devices designed only for right-handed thinking: the camera and video are the trigger and mobile viewers right, if you also have a device to support them on shoulder, this is designed to the right, the parking brake of a car is positioned so that it can be powered with his right hand at the turnstiles of the metro and railway ticket must be entered by the right and left step left - only the oldest in Barcelona are left-handed, but they are "fixing" with the new. Incidentally, Barcelona
is one of the few cities where subway trains entering the platform from the left, "light switches are usually located on the right and the exterior doors of the flats to the left, facilitate access of a key, held in the right hand (for the left, turning, faced with the framework in which the door fits.) Until recently, computer mice were also skilled ... The a rifle butt rests on the right shoulder and the focus is also right (and left-handers have it easier to object). The swords and scepters, are supported by the right. In the struggle, the left hand holding the shield
(ie passively protects) while the right grasps the weapon and attacks, and also the right hand throwing arrows from bows.
The guitar strings (and the same guitars and other stringed instruments that are held between the hands), the keys of the saxophone and the like, and the buttons on most audiovisual equipment are also skilled. The edges of the knives, scissors, buckets with pouring spouts and the guan, the paddles of fish, manual can opener, and most kitchen staff are not symmetrical, are designed to be wielded by the right hand.
spirals and rings, notebooks and folders are
left, an inconvenience for wielding the tool to write with his left. In fact Western writing itself, is a right hand. Student chairs with built-board, are also objects impossible for lefties.
All things that spin-valves, bulbs, screws, pin-curl in the direction of the clockwise (as I found the mnemonic, Max) that if the wrist is also designed to be worn on the left and right handled.

A right
The military salute, the Pledge, the courteous greeting, handshake, the blessing, the sign of the cross ... performed with the right hand. However, partnerships, except in Catalonia, again, is worn on the left, the explanation is practical and skilled, and do not hinder the daily tasks. One exception: the medals and pins are turned to the left, although in the case of the former, are ordered from right to left as value.
In the case of the dresses, the men is buttoned and tied the right and left women, reinforcing the idea that right and good is linked to the male and the left and bad, to the feminine .
Conventionally, in the graphic arts, film and theater, will come out right and you enter from the left. If you ask a group of people that represent your idea with a sign out, all right handed and most left-handed, draw an arrow pointing to the right, the arrow pointing towards the left then asked reflecting the idea of \u200b\u200bentering.
Usually, newspapers, magazines and books are read from left to right and it is interesting to note
-impact imagery and, above all, advertising on-site, is located on the right (the "good page" or page straight as it is called since Gutenberg invented the printing press, while the left receives
name or front line ) .

Iconography
The Virgin (and mothers in general) have always
the child in the left arm to free to act
law. They say the sculptor Bonnasieux, author of the statue of Notre Dame de France Puy-en-Velay,
the only one with the child in the right arm, committed suicide
realizing his mistake.
In Bible and Gospels , the elect are always sitting at the right hand of God and the wicked are to the left. The Koran goes further and attributes of Allah two right hands, for God can not be handed (even though Muslims written from right to left and from back to front).
When someone seeks representation graphic, often to the right, while the triumphal entries run to the left. The flags flying always to the right. both in film and television, theater, cartoons or posters, actions that take place to the right suggest dynamism. And the cursive letters lean to the right ...

I invite both right-handed as to reflect on the issue and contribute their own observations (and when you discover how to place images where you want, not where the template will feel like, I will raise some interesting graphical representations of all that here claimed).

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write this here in allusions Marchetto
"The fourth wall" (whoever has a link to the left), because I have not seen where they hang comments on your page (if there is somewhere).
I am a passionate person, because I think that to enjoy the full flavor of life should be supplied with all desire.
passion for reading, movies, music, walks and travel is generally not fatal in any case (at most a little upset if a book or movie disappoint your expectations), but when this is relating to people it gets more difficult, because you always run the risk of encountering a predator (it talked Sastre Max and I the other day). Some, perhaps those who have had worse luck, they are more hurt, and try to protect against armor-opt others and not express their feelings or interest in excess of one, so they can not hurt them, is, Avoid putting shot. The problem is that if you want to avoid the knife, maybe you do not get the touch ...
I try to take small precautions, but I went out defenses with relative ease, I prefer to trust people, I love to meet new people (hungry for stimulating conversations, curious to compare views and desires to learn new things) and that we must be prepared.
If I'm wrong and abuse me, I depart, I lick the wounds and go my way. And if the thing ends badly for other reasons, I think that's the price for how much I enjoyed while it lasted. This is particularly true for romantic relationships, since it seems that passion, infatuation, the burning in his own fire and can not last forever (more than three years, say). Being at the top may mean ending up in the pit, but is so special when you're up!

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PASSIONS IN MEMORIAM

Yesterday I was too busy with work issues and problems caused by this page, so I have not known until today. I knew I was sick and had stopped his daily meeting with your readers. Even yesterday I thought that, by age, you may not have much time. As I thought, I knew that time had been exhausted.
This text is red for obvious reasons. I did not always agree with the things he said, have not shared many of his views, but always was curious to read what he said in his daily column. And a lot of respect. And some tenderness. And a lot of compassion, knew only superficially, three of the four children she has buried, and have always believed that there should be nothing more terrible than to bury a child because it is a fact of life that your descendants will survive.
In a final gesture, this reporter / analyst insatiable curiosity has donated her body to science ... Farewell Harold!

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CYBERNETIC WAY WHY SOME ONDINA

... and that science progresses it is an outrage!
First TV (one in B / N 14 ") arrived home shortly before Franco's death (maybe in '74), and although my brother once had a Spectrum (if I remember correctly), I I contacted a computer until the early '90s. About 15 years ago I bought my first answering machine: was in love and wanted to get rid of dependence on the telephone. The answering machine let me know that this person had called, and hearing his voice, without having to give up going to the movies or out with friends when he was traveling the world. It felt like liberating, but I must admit that every night when I got home, the first thing I did was listen to messages.
I bought my first computer (a contraption used) a little later, arriving at Barcelona, \u200b\u200bwhen I started work writing material for collections kiosk. Cost 100,000 pesetas me then, but I'm a perfectionist and constantly repeating the pages, even in an electronic machine, infuriated me. When it became clear he was going to make a living with it, I bought a new, modest but better, I already had internet connection.
Meanwhile, the people around me had been buying phones. My first phone was a device (large and those that had an antenna that had to display) was old and obsolete (like my first computer) when I received it, my mother gave me when he bought a more modern, and that not so long ago. It was almost an anachronism, but to me, fulfill their service (basically a telephone access in difficult circumstances, or locate the other when the appointment is in the street and there have been an oversight or a delay).
Meanwhile, it was time to change your computer (age so fast!).
The doctor advised me to buy one that allowed me to work with his elbows on the table (for the kinds of tendonitis), and thought about buying a stationary flat screen to fit it to the bottom the desktop. At the end I opted for a laptop that allowed me to mount it, occupying less and could take with me when traveling (this just two years ago.)
Around the same time I changed my phone for a more modern (which has already become old, but I do not care) with a lot of features that have never used. Now when I go out worries me forget the phone (though not usually come back for it if that happens) and when I travel, I always carry extra weight: the computer. And wherever you are looking for time to connect, I check mail from Outlook, then of Gmail, then visit the pages of my friends, and now mine, to see what's new ... and I am appalled to think that the computer may have a fault that prevents me accceder all these things. I feel dumb and blind.
Nevertheless, I try to keep a distance, I had a short chat semiadicción, but found that they lie a lot and people end up being less interesting than it promises. I prefer the reverse of the usual option, do it with people I know and at that point is beyond me, because I refuse to allow a screen to replace the pleasure of playing, or simply feel closer to the people I love. Although I am glad that there is a means to facilitate contact when away (from Barcelona, \u200b\u200bsometimes I miss a lot). Moreover, since I have computer, I write a lot more with my friends, only instead of using envelopes and stamps, sent letters by mail.
If I call the phone while I accompanied the conversation try to be brief, because I think a lack of education have others waiting for you to crash, and still gives me some embarrassment answer the phone when I'm surrounded of people, or on public transport, situations in which everyone knows what you mean.
But if I go out to dinner and then want to stay with others for a drink, the phone allows me to finalize the appointment, and if I receive a call from someone I care about, hearing his voice gives me great pleasure ...

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GIBLETS

thought posting some other things that go around the head, but I was impressed by the article today in El País, of Rosa Montero (I guess you can read it by entering the page of the newspaper, which I think now is free to access, if not, I say and try to scan it and post it here) . I am touched by your ability to get excited about not only the great tragedies, but also sensitive. With the 10,000 boat people lying dead on the bottom Caribbean and the misfortune of a poor kitty, lost in the subway tracks. I, "most" want to be like her and retain the ability to hurt me the tragedy of others, whatever their nature and dimension. (This may open an interesting debate about the ability of emotion and the need to know the pain, at least to some extent, to appreciate the pleasure).
The second issue I raised reading comes from an old debate among friends (we were talking about how many left intellectuals are not as critical to the outrages of the Communists and with the "fascists") in which some claimed that Rosa Montero did not condemn in a clear and open dictatorship that is, in Fidel Castro. I argued that it did. A few days after that debate, she published an article, also on the last page of El País (if anyone wants the reference I think I can find it), where it was clear its position as evidenced by what he writes today.
As I do not want that input is tedious because of the length, I leave here.

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I incites envy. Everyone opens up a blog, so I also want one. I thought it would be more complicated, but it is really easy. (Thanks, Daniel for showing me it was so easy; and thank you, Luis, since I have created from your own site.) I guess until you get the hang of the thing will be a bit bland, but have a little patience because I have not yet very clear what I want, and technical possibilities. I start with something simple and recent: last Wednesday I was at the Festival of Sitges. I went to see the film by Jordi Torrent brúixola L'est (The east of the compass) , which I found fascinating. Jordi is an old (old?) Friend of my brother in 20 years I've seen a few times and I have known more for verbal references to Daniel that he had talked with him. In short, the film is wonderful and I look forward to the cinemas for everyone to see. You can find a more extensive commentary, which I support almost entirely in laoficinaimaginaria . Blogspot.com