lunes, 18 de agosto de 2014

Conversations with God

I got myself the coolest book ever called 642 Things To Write About (by the San Francisco Writer's Grotto). As the name suggests, the book describes 642 fantasy scenarios to write about. The ideas go anywhere from "Write the lyrics of a rap song. They must include a cop, a bad dry bust, and a dog" to "Create an imaginary friend (human or not)". I would definitely go thru the 642 ideas and promise to share with you the ones I find most entertaining (or most embarrassing, which for the most part happens to be the most entertaining). 

I glimpsed quickly thru the book and got inspired to come up with  my very own idea #643: If you have the opportunity to call God (or the Holley Molly, The Divine, Your Holley Cannoli, or whatever is it that you believe in -or not-) and speak with him for a few moments, what would you tell him? Extra points if you use a shoe phone a lá Maxwell Smart....

(To increase my chances of getting through God's very busy hot line I will use two "shoe phones" as opposed to one just the same way I use several phone devices when I need to call La W Radio or Radio Bemba to request a song)
"Hi, can I speak with God please?"
I'm on hold....
 Still on hold. I'm listening to Kenny Rogers background music...
 "God? Hi it's me! Hi how are you?!"
"I'm good thanks for asking...so listen, I'm calling you to thank you for the beautiful day, the sun, the flowers, the sea, my family, my cats, music, James Rodriguez and the Colombian soccer team, vanilla ice cream, wine & cheese, cherry chapstick, I Love Love by Moschino perfume, ricotta and strawberries with mint, green tea latte with coconut milk....."
"...banana smoothie with almond butter and almond milk, (it just tastes sooo good!)...."
"Oh wait I also wanted to thank you for my friends -specially CoCo, Pao, Maritza, Meghan, Ri, Lauren, the Pumacitas from my office-, my lavender detergent, brown sugar exfoliant, massages, pedicures, manicures, my bicycle, my funny accent when I speak English...hold on...."
 "Can I put you on hold? My mom's calling..."
He hanged up on me...
In all seriousness be thankful for life, love and everything in between.

And now repeat after me: 
"I'm too grateful to be hateful. I am too blessed to be stressed"
El DeBarge

domingo, 3 de agosto de 2014

Party (not really) like a Rock Star

When I was in Architecture School I used to love the clubbing scene. I used to go out Friday, Saturday and if Monday was a holiday (which happens very often in Colombia -it's actually a miracle that we still exist as a country with all the holidays we celebrate-) then Sunday was a partying day too (needless to say, this generated extreme tension between my parents and I). My class mates, specially Mr. Felipe Villa (yeah you) used to tell me that I had a drafting table in the club (this joke wouldn't make much sense nowadays since architecture students draft in their computers, but back then we actually hand drew our own drawings). My inability to grow up led me to some nice clubs in NYC as well. My very good friend Paola and I landed in Marquee some years ago and we felt as if we had found home (yeah, yeah home is where the heart is but our hearts were in Marquee back then). Then I hit The Standard's Boom Boom Room and Le Bain as if there was no tomorrow. 

And then came Philly. The beautiful city of brotherly love. My partying went from 100RPM to 10RPM on my wildest nights. Did I finally grow up? I don't think so. I'm just going thru a "hold-on-I'm-saving-energy-for-later mode". Philly has provided me with awareness, with tranquility, with peace...and with pay per view! For whatever reason the mere idea of clubbing nowadays gives me an instant hangover. What's wrong with me?! What happened to my beautiful boyfriend "Mr. Party like a rock star"? Gone! Gone with the wind! That boat has long sailed away (or has it not?) taking away beautiful memories of younger days. Now I actually find pleasure on going to bed at nine o'clock in the evening. I love it when I get invited to parties that start early in the afternoon because I know I will be back in Morpheu's arms before midnight. So last night wasn't an exception to the new rule. We rented American Hustle for the third time and in a failed attempt to watch the end of it CoCo and I fell asleep before it was over (this has happened three times already), so can someone please tell me how the hell does this movie end? All I can remember is the beautiful 80's outfits, and the genius girl behind the sentence: "You are nothing to me until you are everything!" Isn't she the best? Never settle for less than you deserve people! Never! 

So for all of you 70's, 80's, 90's, and 2000 party animals. I want you to know that you are not alone. A wild heart cannot be tamed. We can become sleepy, less energetic, or even wrinkled, but we will die being wild. Osho once said: "My meditation is simple. It does not require any complex practices. It is simple. It is singing. It is dancing. It is sitting silently". Maybe I had figured it all out back in my clubbing days. Now that I think about it, when I was dancing in UnoClub until the wee hours I was definitely feeling pure bliss. 
"Yeah! I got five likes on Instagram!" 
"But first, let me take a selfie!"
All pictures by CoCo Productions (Gords, que seria de mi vida sin ti?!)

American Apparel everything, minus the bag which is Juicy Couture (why did they close their stores?), the impossible to walk-in platform shoes which are Céline, the childish Swatch sprinkler watch, and the beautiful handmade bracelet by Rita Jewelry. 

Still not bored? Check the master mind behind my "meeting-my-mother-in-law-for-the-first-time-appropriate" cell phone case here and enjoy!

Besos y bendiciones! Please misbehave and make me proud ;)

Gloria