glamstarwee

10/22/09

I must have a terminal disease I’m not aware of. That would be the only plausible explanation for Sebastián’s freaky good mood today. Not to say that I’m not grateful for it, because I am. It’s always nice to not have him bitching about how awful your stance is.

Well, maybe he behaved because it was only us, and can you imagine how preposterous that could have turned out, if he kept trying to bitch at every single thing I did?

Yeah, that bad.

Anyway, today’s class left me half dead. In a blissfully satisfying way, we actually danced. And I wasn’t half bad. I’m getting better at following! And my steps are longer and more delicate, and I’m even getting to the knees part. I feel proud of my little achievements.

And it seems that he is too, because today was nothing but “yeah, that’s it.”, “You’re doing fine.”, “Yeah, just like that.”.

I learned a new step. And it’s quite hard to get right: You are supposed to circle around the man, doing eights and sevens, and it must be fluid (“Do you know what that means?” Yeah, fucker, I kinda know what that means...), which means going dizzy over how many turns you take in just one song. 

Moving on: I’m kind of in love with Skins.In love with Cassie, with Sid, with Chris. And, why the hell not? With Max too.

“You made her look beautiful.”

“She is beautiful.”

Even Max can see how gorgeous Cassie is, why can’t Sid notice, then? :(

10/24/09

About to go dancing with Jeanette. Hope this’ll end better than the last time we went out.

10/26/09

Howdy.

Weekends get crazy when you are this close to December. Things for school, things for my acting lessons, working my ass off at tango, all that stuff.

This Saturday? Well, after hitting the sack at six or seven a.m., I woke up at a half past nine a.m., so I could go and have a haircut (I sold my damaged hair for a relative good price); after that, I walked to my dad’s, to see him for a while; then, I went to the Casa de la Cultura, to a official thing between the INT and our district politicians. Fancy thing with lots of clapping, and things.

After that, we rehearsed ‘till almost nine p.m., and after that I went to Ko’s house, and I had dinne, and then we has ice cream, and mate, and we just talked the night away. I missed doing that, really.

Yesterday was more mellow. We had practice from five to seven thirty, and then we went to watch a play from Rosario, “Club de Caballeros”. I liked it, it was a comedy and it was quite well staged. There were some parts in the which the actors talked a bit too low, but my sister (whose company I seeked, in addition to my group) said that she heard them.

Perhaps I’m just too nit-picky.

When the play was over and we clapped the four actors into oblivion, my sister and I went back to her place to have dinner. She cooked for me: some delicious little meat sandwiches.

10/27/09

12:10 a.m.

I cooked for my father today. Something fancy enough to have wine in its concoction :P

09:30 p.m.

Wee. Today was the kind of day that tires you out, even if it isn’t that much of a hassle. I mean, I did all the stuff I do on Tuesdays and Thursdays (gym class, walking like the last day has come, and tango), but today that just left me DEAD. Dead dead.

Tango was fun. Ara could come today, but she was so behind, that we had to rewind four or five (six, in my case) classes.

Today Sebastián wasn’t as much of a bitch as he generally is, but he also wasn’t as kind and sweet as he was last class. My best guess is that last class he had been in a ‘just-got-laid’ mood. It’s fun how we toss that theory around, as if Sebastián had a hard time finding somebody willing to fuck him; dude, that’s like the only thing I’d gladly do for him, he’s smoking hot.

Gym was not that much fun, but at least I scored three or four times. One of my classmates did quite the three-pointer.

Going on to the next topic: I’M HAVING A CRISIS. Right the fuck now. Because I have three thousand things to do, and I have to raise $185 that I don’t know where to get from. 

At least, I think I’m starting to change my life: today I cooked again. Nothing fancy, a little soup that had a few veggies and rice. It tasted like heaven, after the day I had.

Did I mention that I think I’m losing weight? That’s pretty awesome, considering that I’m still working in how to say no to (the few) sweet things I like. Must have something to do with the fact that I drink lots of water, and that keeps me saciated.

One’s such an ass. An endearing one, but one nonetheless.

10/28/09

Today I didn’t go to school. I told my father I had a head-spliting headache. I had one, but I think I could have handled it. I just didn’t want to go. It seemed more pointless today than most days.

It’s raining, but today rain doesn’t soothe my soul. It just makes me anxious. It’s like a sign of something to come that I won’t like, you know?

It’s as sunny and obnoxiously chirpy as it can be, now.

Ivina’s a wonderful name.

10/29/09

Bueno, hoy hice al menos una de las cosas que tenía que hacer para la eswcuelo, así que eso mejora exponencialmente mi ánimo. Hoy tengo tango, o sea que voy a ver al pooooooootro de mi profesor (que resulta ser terrible gil, pero bueno, es hombre, ¡no se le puede pedir tanto!)

10/15/09

Woah, dude. Hectic week.

Producing a fucking film (even if it is a short one) is kinda awesome, and kinda fucking tiring. The amazing thing? I had never seen so many cameras in my life. And the guys that wrote the technical script were all over the place fixing things. And I did the motherfucking make-up. That was awesome.

10/16/09

So, yeah, big trip today. To Ushuaia with Palo de Piso Teatro, which is great, because it means 72 hours of Anto, Ángel, Javi, Devi, Lucía, and the other two chipmunks.

It’s currently 9:23 a.m. I should probably pack some clothes and shite for the weekend, but I’m sooooo starving for a fucking hour to myself. Something I haven’t had this week.

So, yeah. I hope the fucking thing is worthy of all the trouble it’s gonna bring me with my lovely mother, because I guess it’ll get pretty nasty if I’m not here for Mother’s Day.

Tango’s been almost great this week. Sebastián is being less of a bitch. And I’m starting to get my act together, which is great, because I’m putting a hell lot of effort.

10/19/09

Dude, I’m back again. Trip was motherfucking awesome.

We ended up being Anto, Devi, Javi, Lucía, Shishí, Cami, and Maru (girls from the muni).

We had so much fun. And we didn’t even have to spend that much money, because the INT (Instituto Nacional de Teatro) paid for everything: Hostel (La Posta, which is divine, and should be revisited again and again), food (at the Canal Beagle Hotel! Which is four stars and gorgeous) and our own private driver. He took as from Hostel to plays, to everywhere we wanted (Daniel, awesome little dude that loved us as much as we loved him).

And the plays, we learned so much from them. They were great to watch, and after, when we discussed them, we were so excited that I should have been embarrasing xD

And, oh, Rube Orsini, who was there to give us talks about Street Art, he was great. He did what he did with so much passion. He knew his thing to the core.

We all wanted to cry when he showed us what he did, it was that good.

God. I could go on, and on, and on about how much fun all the trip was, and not even begin to describe it.

And Pedro’s kids, they were so fucking good. Disturbing, and obviously painfully new, but still good.

Oh, I went around charming people with my peers. With Cami we charmed this middle-aged woman that was staying in the Hotel (after we had lunch on Saturday) with our big debates about whether Ruben could or couldn’t have given Friday’s lesson a bit better, and our nice and fancy words.

And with Shishí and Lucy we charmed this Brtitish woman and her daughter wit our passion and (in my case) polished English. We sang for her. And she loved me best xD I know it.

And we all charmed Daniel, with our smiles, and jokes, and stupid songs, and odd innuendos, and freaking and amazing charisma.

What else? What else?

The girls. Cami and Shishí are so talented and nice. Cami is a revolutionary, she’s amazing, pint sized, and dances classical (even though she kinda hates it) because she wants to be a dance therapist, she’s funny, and cute, and just too damn nice. Shishí sings and dances jazz, and is funny, and reflexive and transparent as water; she’s so very sweet, and even if she’s religious, she’s damn great.

Maru I didn’t like that much, but she’s a good actress and a good person (even if she’s got to get over that prejudices she holds).

Oh, dude, we had, like, one hour to buy presents for our mothers, in between things we had to do. It was so funny when Daniel threw us at the handcrafters’ place and said: “Well, guys, I’ll be back at 4:30, so...” The hurry the fuck up was in the air.

I got my mother a beatiful Rodocrosita ring, which was great because she was damn pissed this Sunday. I think the ring saved me from beheading.

Anto got her mother a box of chocolates, and Shishí and Maru got their mothers this shiny beaded necklaces.      

10/08/09

It’s been a tiring/exhausting day. Hard on body, mind and soul.

Just came back from tango, it’s 8 p.m. Sebastián was a downright bitch today (I might’ve had something to do with it, I teased him for not knowing left from right... >.>...) and pretty much criticized everything Fernando and I did. “Folklore professor” (Still can’t remember her name...) got away with her short steps and bad position, though. Maybe that’s because she gives him a ride home. Or because she puts out.

Who knows.

I’m getting better at the “Following the man” part, and the “longer steps” part, but my bitch of a professor (God bless his good looks, he’d be fucking dead if it wasn’t for those) is now complaining that I do the eights part all wrong.

“See! There! You are doing it again! Watch your feet!”

Asshat with a broom up his ass.

Well, today I bought new shoes... and new shoelaces for my older shoes. Like FUCK I’m gonna throw them; it’s kinda stupid, but those shoes saw me starting my acting lessons! They were there through important-difficult-messy-happiest times. I want them. Won’t throw them.

So, next topic: my bestest friend (and yeah, doesn’t that sound juvenile) had decided to hide from me the fact that she’s been hotboxing with some of our friends. Kind of shocked. Kind of scared.

I’m afraid that she’ll just... just go to this place to the which I won’t be able to follow her to. That she won’t need me anymore, and she’ll just stop trying to reach out for me. And that I’ll be too tired to try and reach out for her. I’m kind of always doing that with everyone, and I’m tired.

She says, however, that she gives me everything she can give me. That if I don’t feel like she’s making me a part of her life when she’s giving me everything she’s got to give, then she doesn’t know what the fuck she can do to make me notice how much I mean to her.

I’m still scared.

Today I had gym class (heroes xD), and we played basket. Perhaps I should be a bit embarrased about how much of a vicious cunt I can be while playing, but dude,the girls are such wussies. Basketball’s a hard sport, ladies. Deal with it, yeah? Deal with it. Ain’t pretty, ain’t nice. Bound to get some degree of harm, sometimes.

I’m so tired about Andy’s “solo” thing. It seems that she can’t really get that this one’s supposed to be a TEAM sport, motherfuckinggodammitshit. She just runs from one end of the court to the other and shoots. The egotistical fucker.

That aside, she’s a very nice girl.

10/09/09

I love my family a whole fucking lot. Won’t get tired of saying it. I love my two hundred siblings, I love the fact that we are messy and over the top, and a fucking gang that will go out for blood if someone hurts one of us. I love it. We’re tight and plain awesome.

“White-balls”! Oh, Susana, I love you.

How more awesome could someone be?

“I used to have an imaginary sister!” Sabrina.

“Oh, darling, that’s so sweet! I have so many siblings that I kind of don’t have any more room, either for real or imaginary ones.” Me.

“Yeah, every flavour.” Susana.

My brother’s bringing my nephew here for the holidays. That makes me equal parts happy and sad: happy because I miss him. I do. He’s the most amazing gift somebody’s ever given me. He’s precious, and I love him. So much it aches. Sad, because someday he’ll have to give him back to his mother, and that’ll be a bitch on us. Missing him again.

Today I started with my Script Elaboration thingie. Wasn’t that cool. I’m kinda floored, because the other people that takes the course’ve had previous experiences, are doing majors on it or something, and I’m just... new to it. Feel kinda left out. And the professor’s a stuck up little sell-out, but that’s ok, anyway. He seems like a chill enough dude.

I’m gonna try to fight for a place there. I want to belong. And I’ll be damned if I don’t, at least, try. I’m a stubborn little fuck that way.

OhGod. Someday I’m gonna end up in jail, because of my stupid fixation with jailbaits. But they are so cute. And it’s not like I’d fuck them, or something...

 ... Well, perhaps I would fuck that kid (M? Cello? Cello.), or little gorgeous Nicolás.

Oh, please, kill me, I’m a dirty old lady.

I’m not *random*, I just have many *thoughts*:D

10/10/09

-When she takes the bus that morning, she’s got the feeling that something’s going to go horribly wrong with her life.-

-They are tied together, back to back, and she wants to scream, but her lungs are aching from the press of the ropes.-

-You’d be glad to hear I’m fine. You just wouldn’t be fulfilled.-

I still don’t know what I’m gonna do with my life. Don’t know what I’ll study next. Can’t be something I like (that I know), because what I like’s not really profitable, and I want to be able to live from whatever I major on.

UBA hasn’t got any fucking good career for me, though. Nothing mildly interesting, nothing that won’t kill me after the first three months.

How do you do (do you do), the things that you do?

Wouldn’t it be good to be in your shoes? Even if it was for just one day.

Remember the feelings, remember the days.

I’ll perhaps go out dancing tonight. Perhaps. If the sun sets in the perfect way, my heart doesn’t feel heavy, practice goes good, and Jeanette says ‘yes’.

So, shirts? Skirts? Dresses? Shoes? (Black, or new?) Accesories? Make-up?

I should probably call Ko, I’ve been slacking on my fag-hag--closest-friend duty. That sucks and shouldn’t be allowed. But then again, I tend to suck. Hope he doesn’t give me the cold shoulder over my absentism. It kind of hurts when he does that.

I want to go back to the

Era. So badly.

 10/11/09
Last night I didn't go dancing because I was wooooorn out.
After acting lessons we took a time to walk by the beach with Anto. Then we just sat there, surrounded by sand, night, and sea. And life was amazing.
After a while, I decided that we should just take a dip. Yeah, it was fucking cold, in the middle of nothing. It was gorgeous.
Then we came to my house and took a shower, changed into dry clothes, and ate a heavy meal. After tea with some aspirin. 
Mother hen much? Yeah xD
 

This Saturday was wild! I danced, and danced, and then I just danced a little more. I shaked my bootie all night long, and even took the time to seduce this one guy that was dancing near us. He looked like he wanted to come over, but was a little embarrassed because we were kind of a tight pack, and Jeanette looked pretty much like my girlfriend, and little blond boy, pretty much like my boyfriend. So, yeah. I get you, dude, you were kind of scared. (Jeanette looks a little too fiercely protective. And, then, well, she is. )

Maybe next time, we’ll get to dance to my favourite song :)

And then? DUDE, his FACE when he saw me enjoying my time with those two dudes, and dancing my soul out with Jeanette and little sweet May. That made my night. I hope he totally gets that I don’t need him in order to be happy.

Oooh! There’ll be pictures up sometime soon, I think... And dude, I hope they didn’t take any of myself from above, because my cleavage is gonna look huuuge. And I surely look slutty on them, anyway, goin’ down with my girls.

MUSICMUSICMUSIC. I need it. And my throat’s killing me. Fucking cold.

Bajón que esté tan enganchada con Casi Ángeles. Es casi un placer culpable. O lo sería, si nadie supiera que de las 6 a las 7 y media me encierro a ver la novela xD Pero, como no podía ser de otra manera, toooooooooodo el mundo lo sabe. O sea, bajón.

Bajón que hoy me haya emocionado porque Mar al final no se murió. Pero bueno.

Analizando el tema fríamente, hay un par de cosas meritorias, por ejemplo: la producción. El programa tiene alta producción. Debe haber un dineral invertido ahí, a diferencia de otras novelas de Cris (Rebelde Way, Chiquititas, Floricienta...), y tiene unos atractivos visuales increíbles. ¿Y el musical? En Argentina no hay NADA que se asome a ése nivel. ESO es un musical. (Y, ¿qué tan triste es tener que decir eso?) Las coreografías, la puesta en escena, todo. 

Después: algunos personajes y miembros del elenco. Bueno, sí, está bien, más de la mitad del cast no debería poder trabajar ni en una mala novela mexicana, pero hay algunos que no sólo tienen potencial, sino verdadero talento. Como la pibita que hace de Hopie, que es increíble; o el chico que interpreta a Camilo, que es buen actor. También está el que hace de Rama, que además canta bien, como la chiquita que hace de Marianela.

¿Y los personajes?

¡Amo a Tina, amo a Hope, amo a Kika, amo a Teo, amo a Melody, amo a Luca, amo al Yeti! :D Y el guachín que hace de Simon está taaaaaaaaaan bueno, y el personaje sería taaaaaaaaan interesante si el pibe supiera actuar. ¿Supongo que no se puede tener todo en la vida? Por lo menos sirve para engordar el ojo.

También me gusta mucho el personaje de Romina Yan, que en éste momento, sinceramente no recuerdo cómo se llama, pero me encanta, porque es intenso y misterioso, y definitivamente glamouroso. Es la Weddie de Casi Ángeles.  

El argumento también es atractivo, aunque sea más flashero que Napoleón Dynamite después de cuatro porros; merece algunas loas, aunque más no sea por escapar al típico argumento pedorro de las novelas para tweenies.

¡Yo quiero pertenecer a Cielo Abierto! ¡Yo quiero luchar contra JC!

En fin, ¿por último? Ésta temporada está intentando hacer algo por la cultura general, insertando menciones a grandes musicales, grandes épocas y revoluciones (¡El flower power, carajo!), y covers de grandes bandas y canciones.

Y sí, más de uno de los covers hace que quiera morir lentamente, acribillada por mi propia conciencia, pero algunos valen la pena. ¿El de Katie Bush? Me gusta, aunque la guachita que hace de Luna sea tan mala cantando como Zulma Lobato.

22/09

Cuando no encuentro mi lugar es cuando me deprimo y me frustro más. A veces siento que el único lugar que tengo que es propiamente mío, que jamás me va a ser arrebatado, es aquel que está dentro de mi cabeza y es a veces oscuro, a veces esplendido, a veces triste, y a veces hereux.

Creo que es ése lugar donde mamá y Marce, y Claudia sólo se fueron de viaje. Ése bonito e idílico sitio donde yacen mis sueños más locos, donde se alojan las tontas esperanzas de futuros brillantes.

Lamentablemente, en compartimientos recluidos y húmedos, llenos del moho de mi omisión, también se encuentran mis miedos, mis soledades, y mis ganas de ceder ante el barroco impulso de hacerme una mártir más.

Un bajón.

Sebastián hoy me hizo sentir muy mal, la verdad. Extremadamente mal. Iba a decir que no lo culpo, pero, ¿la verdad? Sí, lo culpo. Y tengo ganas de hacerle sentir lo que él me hizo sentir a mí. Lamentablemente, no sé cómo.

Querría dejar de ir, pero eso sería cómo darle la razón, y no la tiene. Quiero aprender. Más allá de lo que él piense, yo quiero aprender:

28/09/09

Una de ésas cosas que odio de los fanfiction es que me dan ideas extrañas.

Ahora, por ejemplo, muero por viajar de mochilera por la vida, sustentándome a través de la prostitución.

Sí, así de nada es mi autoestima. O tal vez son así de convincentes éstas mujercitas subestimadas. No sé xD

Estos últimos días han sido extraños, y han tenido el franco y distintivo sello de mi persona: montañas rusas emocionales para hacer sopa.

Me sentí feliz cuando me enteré de que mis viejos planean comprarme una notebook.

Frustrada, cuando me recordaron que aún no sé muy bien qué hacer de mi vida.

Inspirada, cuando leí sobre Simone de Beauvoir.

Triste, cuando le conté a papá que estaba apenada, y él prácticamente se burló de mí.

Enojada, cuando Antonela decidió hacer lo más fácil y maltratarnos a todos en un ataque crítico de mal humor.

Seductora, en la fiesta de Yanina.

The flows of my fingers are ginger ale, against my nipples, they serve me as a conforting blanket when my throat aches out of shouting and taking it far too deep, helps with the nightmares of loneliness.

When my body feels the heat of the drumline, it’s quite magickal, but it tends to go too far, and I tend to go too far. And it just tends to end too fast.

She’s just scared. Scared of how lonely she is at night, scared of her own vicious thoughts, that are always trying to stake a claim over her. To just mark her, brand her, and leave her damaged and useless.

She sometimes wonders how much she’s going to last. Not much, she concludes. Not much at all, she thinks, biting lips and hiding tears. I’m batshit crazy, she admits to herself, when there is stupidsenseless fear.

Tengo ganas de hablar de Brocker.  O cómo poronga sea que se escribe. I HATE HER WITH A BURNING PASSION.

Hay algo sobre ella que no entiendo, de todos modos: Cuando me pongo el IPod, y le subo el volumen para no escucharte, ¿vos que interpretás?

Maldita excusa de profesora de filosofía.

Uhhhmmm...

Soy como la mujer del clarinete. Me gustan los zapatos, me gustan los hombres, me gusta la ropa, y miro las revistas de moda con un poco de tristeza; mientras a otros les digo que estoy por sobre ésas cosas, una parte mía protesta por ésas cosas que no puede tener (los brillos, las luces, la atención, la seguridad, las carteras).

Me gusta el teatro, y me encanta actuar. Me gusta subirme al escenario y usar máscara tras máscara, para en realidad mostrarme como soy. Soy una mezcla rara. Soy un poco cada personaje, y un poco ninguno. Soy como el humo. Soy efímera, soy volátil.

Me gusta cantar: ¿por qué no lo hago más? Porque simplemente me destrozaría el corazón que alguien borrara de un plumazo mis sueños y fantasías de algún día lograr hacer eso para vivir (¿Cuántos kilos tendría que bajar?). Entonces prefiero jamás preguntarte, para que no puedas negarte.

Tengo miedo de decir algo que pueda quedar grabado negativamente en la memoria de todos. Tengo miedo de decir algo inapropiado; decir algo que pienso, y no debería pensar. Algo que siento, y no debería decir. Soy una conformista, una anti-rebeldía, una amante de la norma y los trajes negros de tres piezas.

I like my kissing to be mind-bloggin’. I like my kisses the way I like my life: passionate.

Is it  pathetic that I’d love to be even your rebound? That I’d accept as my fate to be your little second best? That I’d hold dear and close anything you hand me, when in the end that ends up being nothing at all?

“So, after this drink? I’m moving on.”

Kill me, kiss me, thrill me.

Burn me, mark me, own me.

One, two, three. Look at me.

It's just more than you've ever given me.

Is it bitter, is it sweet?

Does it hurt? Does it bleed?

Am I getting to be clear?

Your words won't be the song in me.

I won't let myself fall and believe.

It's in the glow of your heels.

(In the tie of your suit)

It's in the steem of your dreams.

(In the dreams that you've lost)

I miss my old self, in all honesty. But that’s not the point, whatsoever.

You always were kind of obsessed with my abnormality.

Hay fuego, hay gritos, y hay sangre. Y él lo ve todo desde un asiento preferencial detrás de una puerta. Con ella junto a él, que balancea las piernas como una chiquilla, y lo mira, de vez en cuando, con ojos vivos. Él quiere tocarla, quiere besarla, pero la camisa de fuerza (la de ella, que huele a flores, y locura) se lo impide.

-No. Quiero que veas esto. Que veas cómo las paredes tiemblan, y el techo murmura, y los pisos lloran.

-¿Querés que vea la masacre?

-Y tampoco quiero que mueras. No me caés mal.

-¿Y qué te hace pensar que cuando terminen con todos ellos, no van a venir a abrirme en dos a mí también?

-Me respetan demasiado. Y sos mi territorio, y si alguien te va a matar, voy a ser yo. Pero cuando se vayan, te voy a soltar, y te vas a poder ir. Y yo me voy a quemar con el edificio.

( Estás exagerando. )