Monday, August 01, 2005

Tid bits.

"Mrs. Robinson, I think you're trying to seduce me"

Here's another thing that could save the world: "Candy" reruns. There's nothing more adorable than a Japanese made bimbo who sighs her love's name dreamily and with a devotion as I haven't seen in my life. "Candy" is a dreamer and she reminds us of our childhood, of better times; she reminds us that, as Chris Martin sang: "Everything's not lost".

You gotta love "Candy". And you gotta love Coldplay.

You know, I have the three Coldplay CDs and I gotta admit "Parachutes" is the best of all. Songs like "Don't Panic", "Sparks", "We never Change" and of course "Yellow" are spectacular. "A Rush of Blood to the Head" is fantastic as well, but the song "Green Eyes" seems out of... how can I put this? Context? It's like a stop in an album that was playing full force. Maybe it was meant to be that way. The song is beautiful in its simplicity, and the lyrics are amazing, but it feels a little out of place. "X&Y" is good as well. A little more pop if you ask me, but it still feels like Coldplay.

I watched "The Graduate" last night. Now that's what I call a good movie and a kick-ass soundtrack. Simon & Garfunkel are awesome. Specially Paul Simon. He has a song called "Diamonds ont he soles of her shoes" and it kicks ass. There's an African feel to it and it's beauiful. Paul Simon amuses me. He looks like a really shy guy and his voice is really soft but he's a monster of a musician.

I love how "The Graduate" was filmed. The long shots, the frames, the cuts; everything about it is perfect. Mike Nichols has to be one of the best directors alive. "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" scared the crap out of me. He showed just how cruel and raw people can be. And Mrs. Taylor-Burton is terrifyingly amazing in her role. I wouldn't like to run into her in a bar 'cause she would drink everything and I'd have to hold her hair back while she pukes on my shoes. Her character, of course.

Personally, I've never been drunk. Maybe it's because of the size of my head that I can stay concious for hours. I've never been drunk, I've never tried drugs and I don't like Britney. I'm against the system.

I discovered that NYC Serenade belongs originally to Bruce Springsteen. No disrespect to the Boss, but I like Pete Yorn better. 'Cause I'm against the system and I'm going to wear my clothes backwards just to be even more against it. Go ahead, hate me. I hate you, too, so I guess we're even. Just kidding. That was my big sister's humor blossoming.

So my brother is getting married and my other sister is coming from Austin, Texas for a month or so to savor every single wedding detail. Personally, I hate dressing up. It's tight. And uncomfortable. And heels hurt my feet, that's why I wear them just for the pictures and slip in my sneakers to hit the dance floor. Because I'm against the system.

So I took my classes for next semester, which starts on monday. I took a storyboard workshop. I have 10 classes and 66 credits. Now that's a lot of classes and a lot of credits. This semester we have to do a TV show. I hate (Chilean) TV. That's why I'm going to do an absurd, irreverent crazy show for all the freaks out there who are just like me.

Yeah, I guess you could say I'm a freak. I can move my ears and lace my toes without help. And I don't like Radiohead. Everyone likes Radiohead but I don't. I prefer Keane, Coldplay, Athlete and other British bands sent to the world to depress us and remind us we were dumped but we're still hopelessly in love with our ex and there's nothing we can do about it 'cause we're not good enough. And that's just sad.

Today it's a sad day. The sky is gray, it's 4:33 pm and I'm still in my pjs. I love waking up late. I'm in vacation after all.

I'm going to Egypt with my dad later this year. I've begged him to stop in Jerusalem for a couple of days but he said no. I don't why I've always felt a connection with Israel and Judaism. I don't know, it's weird. I'm Catholic but I still feel like part of me is Jewish in a way I have a deep respect and admiation for them. Maybe I was Jewish on a previous life, and I don't believe in past lives, so you can imagine how overwhelming this feeling of belonging is.

We're still going to mount Sinai. That's definitely going to be something... I can't wait to go to Egypt. I'm a huge history freak and going to the queen of ancient civilizations has got me spinning and broadcasting about it 24-7. I'm going to see the pyramids and ride a camel, how fucked up is that? I'm the luckiest S.O.B. alive and I'm deeply grateful that I'm aware of that.

The song of the day belongs to Dream Theater. "Silent man." Beautiful!

I'll see you.

Don't worry. Be Chofi.

Sunday, July 31, 2005

A nice weekend



My brother proposed to his girlfriend. About time! He’s pushing 30 and he still lives at him, which is perfectly fine with my dad. My sisters got married at 23 (almost 24) and 26. I’m 20 and I still haven’t had a good, long, healthy relationship. I need to go out more…

I discovered a wonderful song yesterday. It’s by the wonderful Pete Yorn and it’s called ‘NYC Serenade.’ It’s a long song, and nothing’s better than a 7:17 song who is good all the time and worth every second. Another great Pete Yorn song is ‘Farmer vs. River’. It kicks royal buttocks.

Other great bands are Athlete, The Replacements, The Beta Band, Belle & Sebastian, Soda Stereo, Los Tres, Los Bunkers and Lucybell. The last three are Chilean. Very good bands.

It’s been an exciting weekend. I visited my sister in her countryside house, I played with my nephews, the youngest learned to say my name (he calls me ‘Popía’), which is a huge event since he’s a major mama’s boy and he doesn’t get near anyone but her and his nanny. But this weekend he was infatuated with me. Nothing better than an infant’s infatuation. Just ask Michael Jackson.

Then my brother proposed to his girlfriend (huge shocker), I made a Snow Patrol / Los Bunkers CD, a guy flirted with me through MSN while the object of my affection babbled about how much he likes the CD I made for him. And in a couple of hours I’m taking my fourth semester classes through the internet. Technology never ceases to surprise me. You can flirt and get an education at the same time.

"Totally”, says one of the voices in my head. She’s always trying to steal my thunder…

“You bitch…” Hey, shut up!

“Fine… But I get to write the next entry!” She whines.

I’m about to google a head-voice exorcism.



Is this the coolest picture you've ever seen or what? I took this one a couple of weeks ago. That's my nephew. I'm his aunt. We're family. Yipie. Posted by Picasa

Friday, July 22, 2005

Here's a thought...


On Gorillas and War

Okay, I admit it: I wanna save the world.

I still think wearing sneakers or walking barefoot is better than wearing heels. My sister loves them, but let's face it: she's short. She's been wearing heels since Pinochet was in office and now she has Barbie feet. You know, with the foot arched and always on her tiptoes. Even when she's barefoot she walks on her tiptoes. She's that used to heels. And sometimes she's cranky but at least she's walking straight.

Maybe the world would be a better place if we respected animals. I love eating meat, I'm an omnivore, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna kick a cow before eating it. I bet cannibals are nice to their neighbors before they eat them. They say tension and stress affects your muscles and your flesh, so if you're gonna eat something/someone the least you can do is be nice to them.

And let's drop the Godfatherish surprises. I don't want a horse's head in my bed. I don't even want a pony's head in my bed. You know what I want in my bed? Sheets and my stuffed gorilla. I actually have a stuffed gorilla and we have a very healthy relationship. She listens to everything I say and breaks sense into me. It's like the conscience I've always had only it's materialized in an ugly gorilla. Or like the imaginary horse I refused to let go when my childhood was over and reincarnated in the gorilla.

Maybe we all need to have an imaginary friend or a gorilla to talk to. It can also be a Sponge Bob or a lovely pink Patrick, whatever suits your fancy. They come in really handy when you know exactly what you have to do but you need an extra push to actually do it. It's like your coach, it encourages you to do something you already know you have to do. Ever felt like that? Like you know you have to do but you don't want to do it for some reason? That's when Stuffed Pal comes into the picture like a sweaty hero holding the remains of a flag with orchestra music in the background and says in a hoarse voice: "Do it, bitch"

Yeah, we need more stuffed animals in our beds. Some people prefer action figures, but that's them.

I think the world would be better if we all listened instead of pretending to listen.

I think the world would be better if the media didn’t manipulate information and covered what really matters. Do I really need to know how much Britney spent on her own engagement ring? And it’s a hypocrite attitude for me to say that ‘cause I’ve commented on Britney and other megasuperstars on my previous posts, but that’s a consequence of the media. I just don’t want to see the latest of the Michael Jackson trial after the report on Hurricane Emily.

That’s exactly why E! is such a good thing. E! News Live is awesome for two reasons: Giuliana DePandi and Patrick Stinson. They’re funny, they have good onscreen chemistry and they’re not afraid of laughing at themselves. It’s okay for E! to talk about celebrities and showbiz because it’s an entire channel dedicated to that. That’s why the other stations should stick to real news.

But hey, Hollywood sells (a whole lot) and in the end it’s all about ratings and sponsors.

We’re not focused on what matters. We’re not focused on Africa and all the starving children. Ideas like Live 8 are great, people and leaders go there to help. But do you really think certain leaders will let go of their own concerns to help others?

Some people say Live 8 was just a scam. They say Bush was there to clean up his image a little.

I think Bush really wants to help. He’s just doing it the wrong way. Take the troops back home! Some people think all the attacks and suicidal bombing are due to the occupation, while the occupants think if they leave things will go worst. Who do you believe? Is there a focal point in all this issue?

Others think I have no right to have an opinion on this matter, but let me tell you: I do. Chile has a seat in the U.N. and we opposed the war. What a bad time to be against it. We were just negotiating a trade treaty with the US. They threatened to forget about the treaty if w didn’t support you.

So let me get this straight: my country won’t grow unless we approve a war?

We said no anyway. The treaty was signed.

Tony Blair was pissing his pants. He said yes.

President Lagos was portrayed in a play in the UK. He had a small part, but it showed the moment when he said ‘no’ to the war. The audiences ALWAYS applauded that moment.

Bush came to Chile last year. He tried to break the protocol by bringing his guards into a room when no other leader was allowed to do that. His guards got in a fight. Lagos stopped them. I don't sympathize with Lagos' party but that man has some massive balls.

I think democracy is a great idea. It’s corrupted, like any other system, but I believe it’s good. So go and take democracy to Iraq. And while you’re at it, why don’t bring democracy to Cuba? Because it’s right next to you. National security first, of course, I respect and understand that. Still it’s horrifying when you visit Cuba and people in the street beg for you to give them the soaps from the hotel.

Thursday, July 14, 2005



You don't wanna mess with me!

Have you ever felt like you wanna kick someone's ass just because you can't stand them? I have a list of fictional characters I'd like to beat up. Here are some of them and the reasons why I'd like to give them a black eye.

Dawson Leery.

Ever watched 'Dawson's Creek'? I've been watching the reruns lately and let me tell you something: whine, whine, whine. Dawson Leery is a stupid, selfish, filmmaker-wannabe blonde boy who likes to use big words and film stupid, fluffy, mushy movies with his Hi 8 camera. I wanna beat him up so bad I change the channel whenever he's on a scene. Kuddos to James V.D.B, who played the role. If he wanted him to be obnoxious and annoying, let me tell you something, Jimmy: you succeeded. And the best of all is that he didn't get the girl in the end!

Jar-Jar Binks.

Need I say why? Jar-Jar Binks is annoying. His ears are annoying, his voice is annoying, his accent is annoying, his digital skin is annoying, his presence is annoying. Even his name is annoying. I found a game in the internet where you can shoot Jar-Jar. I felt better.

That's about it with fictional characters. The real life people I'd like to beat up are:

Kevin Federline.

Please... don't get me started. Then Britney would beat him up and afterwards they'd make up and on the next season of her reality show 'Chaotic' Britney would shriek for the whole world to hear "I had sex 5 times today... With a crippled!"

George W. Bush, a.k.a. W, a.k.a. The Bad Guy.

I guess he's not a bad guy in real life and probably his daughters think he's cool 'cause they gave him an I-Pod (maybe he wasn't cool enough, I don't know). He plays golf, he had fun when he was in college and his family seems to respect him. But did he have to run for president? Actually I wouldn't beat him up. I would just send him to a Golf course with his I-Pod playing "I killed an Arab" or something. Give it a rest, George.


Enough said.

I guess that's about it and there are probably a dozen people (at least) out there who would like to beat me up. I won't fight back 'cause after beating up Kevin Federline I'll be pretty exhausted.

Or maybe I wouldn't even bother to beat anyone up. If I do I won't be any better than those who annoy me. But, God, it would feel good....

I need to hit a pillow.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

You read it, didn't you? Posted by Picasa

Save this. It could be worth millions in years to come. Or a dime. Hopefully. Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Heal the world, dude!



Okay, we all want to save the world but we never specify on how we would do it. And that’s a big part of plans. So here’s mine. Just follow the directions and soon enough the world will be a better place.

1. Laugh whenever you get the chance.

2. Read ‘The Little Prince’, ‘The Diary of Anne Frank’, ‘Mr. Vertigo’ and ‘My orange-lime plant’ every two years. They will lead to introspection and that’s always good.

3. Wear sneakers. Heels make you cranky. Trust me, I have sisters.

4. Don’t be afraid to daydream.

5. Drop any phobias you may have except the ones that matter (to laziness, to intolerance, to hate, to phobias.)

6. Hug people just because. But it’s better if you do it with people you know. Pepper spray is not a nice thing.

7. Watch the Simpsons.

8. Don’t go insane over little stuff, like a broken glass. The glass is broken, not you. Focus on the things you didn’t have to pay for, like your family, friends and spouses. Unless you met your significant other through a matchmaking company and had to pay for the membership. Focus on the outcome.

9. You have to have a fetish band, those that you’d never admit you like but as soon as you’re alone you’re in your room dancing around and singing ‘Oops, I did it again!’. If you don’t have the ability to acknowledge your own pathetic self you’re way too arrogant, and nobody likes arrogance.

10. Spread love, happiness, smiles and candy everywhere. Candy is sweet, sweet is nice.

11. Find a cause and do everything you can to help them.

12. Be nice to children. They’re the future and they will rule the world while you’re in a retirement home, so if you wanna age gracefully show some respect for the little people.

13. Be respectful and tolerant.

14. Don’t laugh at other people’s aspirations.

15. Love kids some more. Not for your sake, but because they deserve it.

16. Do the right thing. Don’t litter. Don’t do drugs.

17. Don’t lie.

18. NEVER support a war, no matter what the cause is. Killing will never be good and it will never make you better than those who threw the first stone.

19. READ! Inform yourself! Keep yourself updated!

20. Don’t worry. Be happy!

Anyway, that’s my plan. You have any ideas?

Monday, July 04, 2005

The unique issue.



I was watching a movie the other day where one of the characters was desperate to be unique and original. That got me thinking: what is it with today’s youth’s need to be original? Everyone wants to be one of a kind, one in a million, a person who is such on its own rules and unique characteristics. I’ll tell you who is original: everyone.

So my question is: Why search for originality if you already are unique? Why try so hard on being something you already are? I think it depends on what you understand by uniqueness.

Some people see it on the exterior: clothes, fashion, shoes, hairstyles. “Nobody else has this shirt. Eat your heart out”. Oh. Okay. What am I supposed to say? “Congratulations”? “Yay, you have a shirt no one else has. You can die peacefully in a grave no one else has but that serves the same purpose”? It’s the image that counts. Why is image so important nowadays?

We have Brad Pitt and Winona Ryder to blame for that because they’re too pretty and they make people feel ugly. But maybe it goes beyond literal beauty… Maybe we should blame hot people, like Hayden Christensen, who may not be extremely handsome but there’s something about him that makes feel like I have to look really pretty in case he sees me on the street while he talks to a cop about the restraining order he’ll have against me. Either him or Patrick Swayze. To me it’s all in the jaw and the Adam’s apple. But that dress belongs to another dance. (A dirty dance, perhaps…? Yeah, that was lame).

The point is that with this beauty craze different companies and fashion designers have created a campaign around image and low self-esteem. Do I really need people reminding me day and night that I’m not thin enough or that my pores have been neglected? The answer is no. And those who think just like me want to distinguish themselves from the herd and try to seek inventiveness. Which is not a bad thing. I admit it: it bothers me when I see someone wearing my sneakers. It’s only happened a couple of times, but still. Sneakers are like dating: they have to be exclusive.

Other people see novelty in personality. We all go crazy over those girl/boy-next-door characters in movies. Those weird, eccentric people that talk funny and are always wise beyond their years and seem to have untouchable optimism. And they are just ‘secondary’ roles. Their purpose is to keep the leading man/lady fascinated and intrigued throughout the whole plot so they can serve as inspiration to them and they can finally change.

I’ve never had the necessity to be or feel original because I’ve always known I am. Maybe I’ve done stuff nobody else has done before and other stuff thousands have done or I have the coolest sneakers in the world; to me it doesn’t really make a difference because the way I felt when I did that is what makes me unique. There is not one person in the world who could understand exactly how I felt when I watched my sister crying as she held her son for the first time because feelings are exclusive. Okay, if you have powers and you’re strong in the Force maybe you know how I felt. But since that’s a slight possibility I’ll assume you don’t. But what about empathy?

You know how everyone has a crazy/funny aunt/uncle/relative? My aunt is always telling me I have extra-sensorial powers and that I’m in touch with cosmic forces and that my aura is really cool. My sister’s friend proudly announced for everyone to hear that I was an Indigo child and that I had this special sensitivity and that I was supposed to save the world and all that (I have a special family), but all that doesn’t mean that I can completely 100% get into someone else’s head, heart and soul and know exactly how they feel. So that brings me back to my point: the way we feel things is one of the many factors that make us all unique and original in our own way.

I made up a story in my mind about a girl who devoted her life to be original, and she was so determined to find uniqueness that she neglected every other aspect of her life: family, friends, duties and responsibilities. This is the quest for originality taken to the extreme. But then I started thinking that maybe she did it because no one told her she was unique. I’ve had people telling me that since before I was conceived. Okay, maybe about 9 months after that. When I was a baby I stretched my toes and my mom thought it was the cutest thing and none of my siblings had done that before me. And today, when I hear her tell the story of how when I was 16 months old and she was expecting my little sister I put a balloon under my dress and said ‘look, mommy, I’m pregnant, too’ I can hear the unspoken words ‘you are special’. But everyone is special, in different ways, but we all are. Like my brother, who lost both his school shoes and his sneakers in the same day and walked back home barefoot. Or when he said “mom, my bones hurt” just to stay home and watch a soccer game.

I’ve always felt like the “weird sheep” of the family, and weird doesn’t necessarily mean ‘original’, because I know all my siblings are one of a kind, just like my friends, my numerous cousins, my neighbors and all the people out there.

And we’re not just unique in spirit. It’s in our blood. No matter how much my sister and I look alike, we don’t have the exact same blood. We come from the same gene pool but with a different mix. I’m not really scientific so I won’t go into specifics, but you get my point.

Maybe some of us need to be told we’re original. More than original and unique, that we’re special. To the 3 people reading this: you are special. Now hold hands and sing kumbayah.

The bottom line is: don’t pierce your armpit to feel original. Pierce it because you like it.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

The pop art version of Sof�a. Posted by Picasa

Monday, June 27, 2005

Sofía's Greatest Hits



There are a couple of things that make me feel proud about myself. Here's a list:

1- Hugs. I give amazing hugs. I'm like a tall, skinny teddy bear with a choking rack. Is that sick or what?

2- Voices. I can do voices. From the news' anchor man to Prince.

3- My hands. My hands and fingers are so huge that they even freak me out (not to mention the boyfriends I've had during my life. Trust me: a guy freaks out when your hand is bigger than his. They think they will make other things seem... smaller). If we lived in a world that appreciated large hands I'd be the queen. But such magnificent world doesn't exist. YET.

4- My sneakers. I don't wear shoes or high heels or anything uncomfortable. I wear sneakers, tennis shoes, kicks, whatever you wanna call'em. And I must say: I have a pretty damn good eye for sneakers. They are unique.

5- Kisses. I'm always kissing people. Cheeks and cheekbones: watch out.

6- Memory. I have an excellent memory. I remember the stupidest things, I don't know why, I just do.

7- My laugh. I went to see 'Finding Nemo' with my ex boyfriend (while we were dating) and after it was over he told me he was proud to be sitting next to me because my laugh was just too funny to resist. I felt all gooey inside. Is that even a word?

8- I can write 15 scripts at a time. Not literally, but simultaneously. I work a little on one then trade and then more of the same until 5 years from now my doctor tells me I have artritis. (Is that how you spell it?)

9- My plan. I have a plan to save the world and it's fucking great. I'll post it soon.

10- Music. I have great taste in music.

And that's it. Now that I read this I consider myself extremely lame. So what? It works very good for me.

Stauçy tuned.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Nothing like a nice family moment. Posted by Hello

Friday, June 10, 2005

Of scripting and expectations.


Okay, so here's the deal:

I can't stop writing. Even when I'm talking I'm writing in my head. This has translated into writing stories, poems, columns for the paper, columns for online magazines, scripts for a small cable show and my most recent discovery: Screenplays.

I started last September and since then I've started 15 and finished 2. Actually, one because the other one is still under construction. Screenplays never end the creative process; you're always fixing them and doing retouches. But when you 'finish' one it's like giving birth. Not that you start dilating and screaming 'give me the drugs!' or anything, but you feel a motherly pride that can't be matched. A story is your baby, your legacy.

I'm trying to get my script out there but it's difficult considering that:
a) I'm from Chile.
b) We speak Spanish here.
c) The script is in English.
d) We don't speak English here. And those who do won't make a movie in that language.
e) I want to play one of the roles.
f) What are my chances?
g) If we got to a reason 'F' there's no need to emphasize on how difficult it is.

What to do, what to do? Axl Rose said it better: 'just a little patience, yeaaaahhh'.

Don't you hate being patient? I mean, I'm known around the world for putting up with everything and everyone and I don't complain, I just don't make a big deal out of it, but in this particular issue (scripts) I get very impatient. And frustrated.

When I'm feeling pessimistic I came up with a spirit-destructive theory (you know, those you know are no good for you but you can't help coming up with them) : to avoid frustration don't get any expectations. Example: you take a test. You expect the lowest grade you could possibly get. They give you the results and it turns out you got a mediocre, almost decent grade. You are the queen of the world because you expected an F but you got a C-. But that's just wrong.

Without expectations, how are you supposed to improve yourself? And that's precisely one of the topics in my script. But your expectations have to be realistic. I mean, let's face it: I'm not going to fly just because I set my mind into it. (Speaking of flying: make sure you read 'Mr. Vertigo' by Paul Auster.) But what is the limit? Isn't it a contradiction to say expectations have a limit? I think not. If there's something we lack as human beings is the ability to be rational. But that's also the beauty of the human mind. We're naïve, we daydream even when we reach adulthood and we keep those fantasies and illusions to ourselves. I'm not scared to say I daydream like a spoiled brat. But the rational side of me keeps me grounded. You could say daydreaming is my hobby. And it's fun.

Back to the expectation issue. I don't know what to expect of my writing, of my skill as a writer, of my ability to be a good person. Every day I wake up and I think how I could be better and I try to do it. Because in the end it all comes down to being the best you can be for yourself and for others. It's like Nash's equilibrium applied to humanity. In the end I don't care about my scripts or any material things I could create an attachment to. It all comes down to how good of a person I really am. And yes, my hopes for the future and for my future as a writer are also part of who I am, but that's a personal goal. My ultimate goal is selfless and at the same time selfish: I want to be as good as I can be. I think we should all do that or at least sleep on that thought. Who knows? Maybe the world will be a little better.

I think expectations are fantastic as long as they are ethically and morally correct. But then wouldn't that be a restriction? How far does our freedom go? The misconception of freedom is, in my opinion, one of the greatest problems in the world today, particularly in our youth. And I'm talking revolutionary, 16-years-since-the-end-of-the-dictatorship, let's-take-over-the-campus liberal youth I see every day in college and on the street.

The University of Chile is an institution that is always in struggle with their students. Whenever the government makes a new move - one that the students don't find very appealing or fair to their standards - they take over the campus, close the doors, hang posters and never-ending banners from the windows, camp in and outside the building and protest. Then the cops come and they get it on: smoke bombs, water from the police truck, bottles, Molotov bombs, injured people from both sides and just a 5 minute mention on the news, which seem to repeat the same footage over and over again. But no, it's new footage showing more of the same. True, we all have voice and the right to speak our minds, but there's a way.

Maybe it's because of our government. It's just like every government but it's here. So when something happens they blame it on the army (because of the military coup that took place in September 11th of 1973) and the right wing blame it on the Marxists and then everyone takes out each others dirty laundry and horrible things are revealed. So where does this leave us, the youth of a country trying to grow and expand its horizons? It leaves us absolutely nowhere. We're lost because we don't know in whom to believe anymore. Half of Chile hates the army, the other half supports it. We're a 50-50 country.

As a young person, my expectations for my country are realistic, doable and yet utopic. I just want the stupid fighting to end; enough of the "he said-she said" crap because it's starting to sound like a bad soap opera. How are we going to gain credibility if we can't get our act together? And this is where frivolity pops up: investors and other governments don't care about the social issues. They just care about the money. Cuba Gooding Jr. immortalized the line "Show me the money!" in Cameron Crowe's "Jerry Maguire" and we all seemed to have adopted it, not to fool around, but as our motto. Maybe not 'we', but our state leaders.

I'm getting too dense. My next post will be something really freaky and trivial. Don't you love babbling about nothing? I do. A lot.

Okay, here goes nothing: does any of you know a producer by any chance? And while you're at it, ask him/her if they know of a short, thin, pretty, talented brunet actress to play the lead in my movie. And make sure you ask the producer if they know about a good director. Mike Nichols would be fine. Or Chris Columbus... Or Luc Besson... Or Cameron Crowe... Even the Governator. Actually, I'm not that desperate, thank you. And tell the producer that my script is a "dramedy". Actually, it's sort of a smart comedy with a dramatic background. Not dramatic as in Shirley MacLaine's "My daughter is in pain!!" performance is 'Terms of Endearment'. It's more of a contemporary 'Rainman' but with sisters and none of them is retarded. And they don't go to Vegas and they're both under 30 and it all happens in New York. Anyway, it would be great if you did that for me.


P.S: Am I pathetic or what? Don't you love to be pathetic? It's fun. At least when you think it's fun. Funny.

My brothers, my sisters and my nanny. I'm the one wearing the red/orange turtle neck sweater. Yes, my sister's tan is fake. Posted by Hello


There’s a song by Damien Rice called ‘I remember’ which reminded me of an article by a psychologist who sustained memory is one of our greatest – and most underrated – gifts. I totally agree with her. I think memory is fascinating. Who or what decides what you remember and what you don’t remember? Why do we hold on to certain events or words or images or sounds? Is it all part of a plan? Is it that maybe all those little things we have in storage will gain importance in time?

I have a pretty darn good memory myself. Whenever my brothers and sisters get together for dinner at my mother’s or at my father’s house we start reminiscing about our old house, our old neighborhood, the funny stories that we all starred and every moment that seemed to have some significance to us. I’m the sixth of seven children and the oldest ones are amazed by how accurately I recall details and situations.

I can remember the house where I was born, the place I called home until I was 4. I remember the kitchen tiles (which happen to be exactly the same color and size as the ones in the house I live now), I remember the study, I remember taking ‘Flintstones’ shaped vitamins that were on the bookshelf, I remember rolling down the stairs. I even remember looking up from my white bed/corral at the white wooden bars and thinking why couldn’t I be downstairs. I remember asking my brothers and sisters to stand in the hall outside my room so I could count them.

I remember the day we moved to our new house. I remember getting out of the car with my Fisher Price barn in my hands and walking through the threshold. I remember watching the Berlin wall falling on the 9:00 news in my parents’ bedroom. And I’ll never forget catching a small glimpse of that devilish clown peeking through the gutter in ‘It’. That scene kept me awake for weeks. I don’t know if you should call that a ‘good’ memory. It’s more of a large garage. A wider range memory, I don’t know, call it whatever you want.

I also remember much darker incidents but I don’t recall the aftermath of those incidents. Why is it that I kept the tragedy but not the solution in my mind? Well, maybe it wasn’t a solution by name but it was the next best thing, the moment that indicated that it was over. Is it because we become attached with the tough stuff? And I don’t mean just the bad moments, but also the good ones. Those strong, undeniably meaningful events that seem to pierce our minds and carve themselves in our psyche for good. But there are also the apparently trivial things, like the little girl who turned around and smiled at me in the bus six years ago, or the store downtown where we used to get our school uniforms when I was in first grade. Why do we – or I – block the outcomes, the aftermaths?

There’s all this tragedy and drama and glorious moments that stay with us forever but those things you really want to keep… you just can’t grasp them. I search my mind looking for them but they don’t appear until someone else reminds me of them. Memories by stimuli. Maybe that’s why my family and I reminisce so much. We stimulate whatever recollections we hold of our innocent, more careless time: childhood.

This brings me to another subject: age. The most painful and seemingly unforgiving age we ever live: adolescence.

In Spanish adolescence is ‘adolescencia’; it comes from the word ‘dolor’ which means pain. But I’ve always thought that pain comes from adolescence. Real pain, the one you are fully aware of. Adolescence is the space between absolute innocence and full awareness of our lives. We’re not young but we’re not old either. We’re in a place where we feel misunderstood and lonely, because the ones who are going through the same disappointments as we are bring no solace. We feel understood and gotten, maybe even related, but the mind of the youngster is a complex cave where different voices tell us to trust no one. And loneliness just adds more to the bag. Young people are lonelier than the elder. They always will be. But that's meat for another grill.

Even though I try to separate them, memory and age go hand in hand, but I really wanted to discuss the memory issue.

Memory is so important to me. It gives me a sense of who I am. Memory is identity, or part of it, or a fundamental part of it.

And I hope I never lose it.


Introductions first:

My name is Sofía. I'm 20 years old and I'm from Chile, so forgive any grammar mistakes you might find in my writing.

Stay tuned.