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The enchantment of Granada

In this case I have no doubt in regard to date, either in regard to everything else. Occurred the weekend of June 22, 1991. Right after work, picked up Pilar and get the hell in the car to Granada. We had booked the hotel room in Paris, located in the center of the city. A charming hotel with corrala, Andalusian patio type and its corresponding source in the center. The hotel was run by an older woman with glasses, brown, with a kindness that squandered without remorse. She took us to the room, decorated with furniture, paintings and objects old. The stage floor was faded by the years, the kind that squeak when walking on it. We loved the place. The following year, when the hotel was purchased by NH and kind woman was gone, we went there. In that other time, they put us in a room where you could hear, like a gale, the machine responsible for cooling the enclosure, but that's another story that should be best forgotten.

During Saturday morning to dedicate ourselves wandering around Granada. We already knew the city well. I a child, and Pilar shortly after, though not as deeply as I do. We let ourselves go by our feet, slowly, walking. We had no hurry. We went into several shops Alcaicería, with that unmistakable taste of Arab medina. We entered the cathedral, we let ourselves be deceived by a gypsy that Pilar was quickly placed a carnation in his hand then attempted to charge the price of gold, and finally ended at a bookstore next to the door of the cathedral. The seller, a stout fellow with good-natured appearance, showed us the latest developments, among which are a facsimile of the first edition of Lorca's Gypsy Ballads, with illustrations by the author. Needless to say, as quickly became fond of Pilar with that jewel, which we had no choice but to buy it. In that sense, Pilar was very clear. If a book came from his eyes he was already theirs.

With our shipment of books (I also bought a few who speak of stories and anecdotes of Granada) and Alcaicería memories, we went to Chiquito, a restaurant on the corner, located in a block of houses opposite the English court. After dinner, the hotel, take a nap. Pilar While dozing, I read poems of Gypsy Ballads. When just one, and thinking he was asleep, trying to close the book. She opened one eye, looked at me and said "what are you doing? Come read another. " We spent the siesta. As you can see, we were taking the day with a parsimony and laxity that squashes. At that time, mid-June, the heat in Granada began to be important, and we tried, consciously and because we wanted something else, not to move too, so no sweat. Everything I have told you took place in a space no more than half, at most a kilometer in diameter.

When the time came closer, we started to dress. At times I thought we looked like two bullfighters placing us the costume. Pilar donned a dress he had bought in Mallorca very stylish shoes, and a thin coat of light color. I wore brown shoes, a pair of light-colored clothing, and (now it's time to grab the males), do not miss it, a silk shirt, dark green. Green silk, I swear. And I can assure you that, at that time, silk shirts any tone were seen as the summum of elegance, although today some find it hard to believe something. I do not remember exactly who gave it to me. Possibly be the same Pilar. I do remember is that a shirt of such cost by then seven thousand pesetas, more or less.

We take a quick at a bar located near the hotel, and headed, with a gleam of happiness in their eyes, what had motivated this weekend output.

"Flamenco Dreams" by Cristina Hoyos, was represented on that Saturday night in the theater of the Generalife. We walk through the Alhambra as we had not ever done, at night, lit, and without the swarm of tourists tend to visit every day. The footsteps of those who were privileged to attend the show on the gravel road from the Alhambra, the Generalife, you could hear quiet, slow paced, and tasting pleasure ahead of us expected.

Pilar fuck out of my arm walking, remembering from time to time Lorca's poems he had read in the afternoon. I was happy. Very happy. This is another very rooted in the personality of Pilar, and those who know her well will know very well what I mean. Pilar was put happy if the person who was at his side was happy. He was satisfied with that. It was me who liked Cristina Hoyos, but was she who had taken the tickets and had organized the trip. When I said, I took great joy, but she took her to see me happy. That was Pilar. I've seen on countless occasions to enjoy something that we liked me or your child, or friend, or their parents, even more than if you would like it.

And the show started. Well ... What about the show. It was Cristina Hoyos. If anything I feel many times in consciousness, and sorry truth is that all those who applaud today's nonsense wildly Joaquín Cortés Sara Baras, will go through life without being appreciated for what it is, in total ignorance the art of dance as big as Antonio Gades and Cristina Hoyos. Great art, and spoken by someone who feels a special fondness for flamenco. But Cristina Hoyos is flamenco. Is something else.

After each number, Pilar looked at me, excited at what he saw. We enjoyed the two as if possessed by the spirit of Lorca, which was distilled in each of the hand movements of the dancer. The night is perfect, the sky, star, environment, magnificent, the art of Cristina, magical. What more could you ask for one night?. We were both together, living a moment of emotion to the surface that lasted two long days.

Then came many nights in Granada, but no one like that. In fact, that weekend got into my head the idea of \u200b\u200bbuying something to institutionalize weekend in Granada, big mistake on my part, as I shall relate when the time comes.

We returned to Madrid as always, happy for what we had lived, sad because it was over, and a little more closely in the life path that we decided to get together.

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AE22 - derived therapeutic potential of marijuana in the fight against cancer - Guillermo Velasco

THC, the active ingredient in marijuana, triggers a process of autophagy just killing tumor cells. The doctor in biology Guillermo Velasco, a member of the research group led by Professor Manuel Guzmán at the University Complutense of Madrid, has spent a decade studying the mechanism of antitumor action of cannabinoids. In this talk, Dr. Velasco will talk about the therapeutic potential of cannabis in the treatment of cancer. FREE ENTRY



December 16, 2009, 19:30

in Off Limits. C / bracket, 11 (Madrid) see map

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AE21 - Get the subconscious through hypnosis - Jesús González Genaro


Jesus Gonzales Genaro , psychologist and president of the Society of Professional Hypnosis.

spoke on the operation of hypnosis the subconscious mind, cognitive hypnosis and the human psyche, the attentional focus of the human mind, hypnosis in surgery and dental anesthesia and hypnosis inappropriate: forensic hypnosis.

A summary of the talk here FREE ENTRY



November 4, 2009, 19:30

in Off Limits. C / bracket, 11 (Madrid) see map

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As a reflection

seems to be becoming a sort of habit in this blog off from time to time the story of our life together, stop a moment and look down, so to speak . This is one of those occasions. I have to explain something about the fact of continuing with this story, you will not mind that almost no one, probably to anyone, except perhaps to us, her family, the closest relatives and close friends. What are the reasons that pushed me then to continue with what is probably the blog less often in the history of the Internet?. The reasons are various, and very specific. Despite the pain it causes (which caused me, rather. This is another aspect that I wanted to mention to today) rummaging through memories and photographs, outweigh the reasons to follow, that the reasons for quitting.

First, and that's something I've almost gotten into since I started to have the use of reason, I believe that every human life, whatever, is worth counted. There is nothing more important in the world of memories, experiences, emotions, stories, tragedies, beliefs, principles, joys, sorrows and knowledge, which are enclosed inside a human brain. Either, say, from the most famous of the least threatening to pawn whatever their place of birth. Everyone deserves that their experiences are rare. Do you not occur to you that asistís gawking, after the family meals, to the story from his youth that tells the grandmother? Can relate better or worse, with grace or with a total weight, but always fascinated by what it says. Why? Because we are human, neither more nor less and we are nourished by the stories we tell other human beings.

For that reason, Pilar was not going to be less. He had a life worth telling, not only for their experience and intelligence that was, and rapids, but it was able to bring to all who had the great fortune to meet. He had his bad moments, like everyone else, and his hobbies, of course, but the good thing abundantly dark evil. She said we had to always see the glass half full, and that's what we're doing now to remember.

Another reason, probably as powerful or even more than that kind of tribute that I think he deserves Pilar, and is the that your child knows a little more tomorrow. It would be foolish of me to pretend that tomorrow my son will read this blog, but if I did, I think I would to get a fairly accurate idea of \u200b\u200bwhat they experienced that person who not only brought the world, but was able to instill the values \u200b\u200byou have now. Do not forget that Sergio lost his mother just turned fourteen, an age old enough to absorb the loss, but child enough to not understand too well what it is that loss. Age difficult, complicated, which is already beginning to move from their parents. It is possible that some of you in the future, I bring these pages as a way to get to know what was his mother. We all know stories of our parents, "war stories" to not pay much attention, partly because our parents (mine and those of Pilar, I mean) are still there, and will be at the next meal to tell them things. Do not you think it would be nice if someone would be responsible for gathering, remembering those stories to read when they were not? That's what I'm trying to do this blog. Translating those twenty years together before my memory fails. I know at least two people (my son and myself) to someday be interested all this, and for that alone is worth a go.

I've noticed that most entries focus on trips that Pilar and I did, whether shorter or longer. It is inevitable. Ninety percent of the photographs are awakening my memories come from travel, as happens to most people. Nobody keeps many pictures of everyday life, unless you bought a new camera and is dedicated to pursuing his wife while doing some lentils or a clothesline. Also I have a few pictures of that, but not many, since each time this happened, the third or fourth picture Pilar sent me to hell. It is inevitable so do many mentions of those outings that were used to approach getting a little more, to know ourselves better. It is quite possible that sometimes even change the dates, or the order of travel. My memory is not enough for most, and although many of the photos I took the healthy habit of placing the date, many did not. You can not do anything, is a small tragedy, but I think the important thing is memory, the feeling of being repossessed when we undid the bags, not the exact date it occurred. There can be little dyslexia in that sense, but some there, I assure you.

And finally comes for me the most important what really is driving me back to this blog more and more eager. I'll try to explain in words my mood. With words and with a good image, they say that is worth a thousand words.

Please note the photo of Pilar who heads this post.

Yes, she is. That was Pilar. I vividly remember the day he took it. It was in Salamanca, after spending an unforgettable evening at the inn. A weekend out. Pilar was that day radiant, happy. It seems like yesterday when we climbed the hill leading to the cathedral. He walked quickly, sure "to find the frog on the facade of the University. That was Pilar. That was the pillar that I fell in love, the Pillar to which, after three years of dating, he decided to share my life. Pilar also a love, he enjoyed as a kid of his relationship with me. There were two real geese, I tell you. I rarely have seen a pair of lovebirds cloying in many parts of Spain.

I mean just that. That was Pilar. With this blog I am getting little by little that this pillar of truth, the real, which all have known, recovers its place in my memory in your memory, I guess, moving to a corner of our brain increasingly remote that Another pillar of the past months. Pilar

suffered, that is something that by now all you will have assimilated. The last months were a nightmare. Chemotherapy combined with the hernia that had been the last operation, hair loss, loss of defenses, become another pillar, which had nothing to do with the cheerful and willing Pilar had been all his life . Honestly, I do not think it fits right in our memories that last picture of Pilar, and the only way to achieve this is by watching pictures like that. No longer saddens me find a picture to illustrate a post. Quite the contrary. I find myself even laughing, remembering the stupid thing that led to some photographs by a true sense of the ridiculous place you dare not, but to me they mean a lot. Sergio Pilar half asleep in her arms, in a restaurant with a piece of bread coming out of the mouth, face of terror to a flash unexpected on my part ... Every time I see one of these pictures comes to mind that Pilar, the real, which all have known at one time or another. Some do not even you had the great privilege of knowing at that time (Jose, Loli), but it is possible that reading the blog and seeing the images, you can get an idea of \u200b\u200bwho he was and how life side on our friend Pilar.

The blog is helping me to overcome loss, because it involves a conscious effort to remember events, trips or situations. Memories that are blurring, for their strength and quality, the sad memories of the final. Nothing more, nothing less. So sorry, friends and family, but I think I will continue with our adventures aburriéndoos for a long time. At my pace. What are you going to do. We take a lot of tickets and still have not passed or three years since we started dating.

run the risk of having created a real soap opera, but I think I'm hooked. It happens.

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definitely, and that's something I realized while writing this blog, probably 1990 was the year that did more trips. In addition to the many weekend outings, made the trip to Mallorca which commented on the blog before, and other important trip, back in October or November, to the fascinating Marrakech.

were only four days, but very intense. Four days of a bridge, I forget which, where half of the people of Madrid were due to occur the same day, because at the same time as ours, there came ten or twelve planes.

first thing that impressed us was the airport. Small surrounded by orange walls, with a control tower and terminal ridiculous that seemed incapable of assimilating all the planes he was receiving. The orange walls are a constant in the city, which is repeated in any place, both in the ancient and the modern.

The hotel we stayed seemed super luxury if we compared with other English in the same category. He had a monumental pool, palm trees and a lovely area. The issue of palms in a constant also in the city. The palm grove of Marrakech, with six thousand hectares, is probably the largest in the world. How is it possible that there is a big palm in a semidesert area?. The legend says that the soldiers of the founder of the city, from the desert, they stopped to rest in the area and began to eat dates and ripped. Bone-throwing was born on palm. A source probably false, but certainly very poetic.

Marrakech was the only place you plan traveled in sheep, with a very little group of people informed about where I was visiting. The first thing our guide told us was that we gave money to children, they would inevitably ask us. Getting off the bus to visit the Kutubiya, an impressive tower of the same architect who built the Giralda Sevilla (and look a lot, that's right) came to us a group. A group of women, probably feeling under siege, and with the intent to get rid of them, spent entirely on the recommendations of the guide, and let go to the small fry a lot of coins. What he wanted most, the poor. Kids came from everywhere, surrounding it as if it were a swarm of bees. He was unable to shake off. So much was their suffering, which did not come out of the hotel in four days.

That same day, the first, Pilar and I had the great privilege of walking through the square of the dead, Djemma the NaF, an amazing place, famous worldwide for their stalls, their water-carriers, their storytelling, their dentists (yes, their dentist, who extracted teeth or dentures placed in the middle of the street ), its snake charmers, their noises, sounds and smells. We deeply permeated the place. It was quite a spectacle to contemplate from the terrace of a bar that led us to take tea with mint. That same day we also had the opportunity to visit the Mamounia hotel, one of the most prestigious in the world.

The second day took us to Lourika Valley, a place that does not appear at all belonging to a city so connected to the nearby desert. Streams everywhere, orange, and abundant vegetation, seemed to be a kick to the environment. I remember vividly that Pilar gave a bic pen a guy who approached her before boarding the bus to return to the hotel, and then the kid tried to sell eight dirhams the same pen which had given her.

That evening we ventured, as was our custom every time we went somewhere, a walk on our own. We did not dare to go to the place of the dead, but we walk through the new town of Marrakesh, in all respects except in the clothing of its inhabitants, he recalled a European city, and not exactly the most neglected. Wide boulevards, street lamps every twenty yards, houses of no more than three floors ... Resulted in a market that sold all kinds of fruits, spices, souvenirs ... It was impossible to travel to Marrakech and not buying anything. Young camels of sandalwood, which gave off an aroma that does not have fared over the years, wooden boxes, Olive Root, glasses, the inevitable camel leather pouf, a few pots, plates of "tajine" in clay gouge imitating a silver ... All sorts of things that stand out with their own light when you see them at the store in question, and tarnish ostentatiously when, as in Madrid, place them next to the picture of your first communion or the Eiffel Tower in Paris bought golden. That's what always happens with things that are bought in exotic countries. Do not stick with mucus or anything else.

Pilar and I enjoyed racing. In fact most of the things we buy we did for the fun of haggling with the seller. We spent a Berber rug store situated in the center of a wide street, and immediately fell in love with Pilar two rugs, a red do not know what happened to her, and I still have white. The haggling went on for over half an hour. The seller was a guy very nice, smiling and speaking very slow and deliberate. Halfway through the negotiations that we offered a glass of mint tea. The fact is that we left loaded with two rugs. One that was traveling with us, and we wondered how we had cost. When you say the price, his eyes wide open. He paid more than triple by a carpet rather smaller than ours. As not believe it, we said that if he we brought to our shop the next day and agreed. I remember being nervous when he saw us and my racing Pilar seller with infinite patience. In the end he took a couple of rugs for same price we had paid us the day before. She could not believe.
The third day we held what was probably the most fascinating tour of our lives. Crossing the Atlas, we get to Ouarzazate, "the silent city, located at the beginning of the Sahara desert. It was incredible between the snow-capped mountains, and arid land that housed the city. We visited two abandoned kasbahs impressive, with adobe houses of several storeys. One day we enjoy the breathtaking scenery as dwarfs and suggestive shops and stalls that lined the route, both the Atlas and in the city covered the trip.

the last day, finally, we tie the blanket to the head, and visited the place of the dead on our own. We rent the services of a local guide who got us without hesitation in the depths of the medina. There was a time when we are scared, but eventually we reached the inevitable store leather jackets object of interest to our guide, and we could not avoid the temptation to buy a couple of jackets that remain forgotten in obscure corners of the cabinets of the people's house. A hunter who had been a long time to evolve during a strange smell, a mixture of raw leather and dye some more or less smelly.

To round off fascinating trip, we went last night for dinner at the palm. Pilar Berber dressed in black robes with an appealing color and a headband. Over dinner, squatting on a round table, a large number of Moroccan folk groups enlivened the moment, with their chants and frenetic pace that always accompanies them.

A memorable trip indeed. I think it was more cost us time to recover Pilar and my lifestyle, once back to Madrid. We considered seriously tiing the blanket to the head, leaving work and family, and settle near the place of the dead.

Something happened every time we traveled, incidentally.

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few nights in Marrakech Summer in Mallorca has been a year

pile I have in memory trips Pilar and I did at that time. Although I was earning far less than the previous company, we have the luxury at 90 in summer set ourselves a way out of Palma de Mallorca, around October or November 1st four-day trip to Marrakesh, and so many outlets week.

We loved to travel both. I think this is something that has been largely demonstrated in this blog. I tried to get up to Pilar, who had traveled throughout his life infinitely more than me.

Pilar had an ease sometimes irritating to make a bag or suitcase as he was accustomed to it. When I saw myself putting smelly sneakers next to the pajamas, without protecting them even with a bag, I threw a deep look, and say "Can you tell us what are you doing?". I missed to shake, and put me completely in your hands. Stoically endured the storm of comments like "but what a mess you", "it seems incredible that you're so clever," is you have to see that Adam, my God, " and other niceties that it was worth enduring for the final result, which consisted of a bag or suitcase perfectly ordered.

is difficult to explain the joy I felt while organizing a trip Pilar. I completely put their hands on the recruitment, booking, organizing flights, hotels and transfers from one side to another. I have sometimes thought that she enjoyed more with the logistics of travel with its content. We had perfectly organized. She sent from home to destination, was responsible for airline tickets, hotels bonds and everything else. Once at the destination, it was me who fell in action. I got my plane or my guide travel, and visit the place, intending to visit as many things as possible. Pilar which was then relaxed and allowed to carry, secure forever (that's something we acquire force output) that, taking a plane, however miserable outside, we never were going to lose anywhere.

funny thing is that we were always perfectly sure of each other. Nor I was involved in the goings-Pilar with agencies, or she got into my field at the time of preparing the route. Fully trusted each other. When something went wrong, it was always gratifying to be able to blame anyone specific. "But Pilar, if you are not given boarding passes" or "Okay, Felix, is now the Rodin Museum is closed." We threw our stuff for a while, and then kept on as if nothing had happened, never allowing a minor setback we make a dent for over a minute. Would have to dig very deep memory to remember a negative moment while traveling. It is also true that both Pilar as I always tended to run a veil (a stupid veil, she said) about any negative aspects of both travel and any other situation in our life, and that always helped us not only to enjoy what we were doing, but wish with all our desire to repeat it.

The trip to Mallorca was a before and after our departure. It was the first time we rented a car, which gave us the opportunity to tour the island in its entirety. We considered four days of sightseeing, and three break and enjoy the hotel and the beach close to it. We had time to go Valldemossa, Inca, Palma de Mallorca, Formentor, the Calobra, Manacor and the wonderful beach of Es Trenc, for our taste the best we had seen in our lives, with pines to four meters of water and sand white.

as dwarfs in Valldemossa enjoy the environment created around the adventure that Chopin lived in his famous Charterhouse. It is certainly curious that the concert gave us an elegant piano student, who played like angels. While he was dressed in his suit and tie, listeners in the banks we were distributing our bathing suits and our flip flops, and some even with the torso in the air or, even worse, with that inevitable Celadon shirt knotted at the height of navel. The young man did not care at all public quality listening. I played for him, and closed his eyes to feel more deeply the immortal composer's music.

I've always been amused, and so I mentioned it to Pilar, a desire to put you in all places of Mallorca to sell the book "A Winter in Mallorca", written by George Sand, who recalls his stay in Valldemossa with her lover, the same Chopin. And it's funny because in the book is shipped to taste Sand from Majorca to which one believes (and surely were) hillbillies, ancient, closed, sanctimonious and uncompromising with a woman he considered little more than a whore, the fact of living with her lover and two children from a previous marriage. Never mind that Sand set to give birth to Mallorca. They will continue to offer the book with a smile.

the third day in Mallorca remains in my memory as if it happened yesterday. After eating at a restaurant Inca near, we went to Deia, charming town that many artists have chosen to live. We loved to the point of deciding to buy a house there. It was the first of thousands of the same decisions we make many times, each time we visited a place that impressed us with its beauty. We did the same in Trastevere, in Marrakesh, in London, in Carcassonne, in Munich in Rotenburg, and all the people that runs along the Loire. A decision that illusion for a while until we traveled to the next place, and we changed their minds.

After Dei, we set out to Calobra, a hellish road for the world famous by her curves. Well, folks, I can promise and promise, that Pilar was asleep in the car, despite the rough road. It was incredible. Occasionally he looked at her, and she hung from the belt, sleeping like a log, without knowing or curves or bumps. We bathed in the Calobra, and then went to Manacor. I remember vividly that Pilar was wearing a short white pants and a blue blouse she had, relatively speaking, as a baby of which placed us in school when we were kids. Do not know what happened to Pilar that afternoon, if it was bleeding effect that we had taken at noon, or night's sleep that had thrown the Calobra way, but the fact is he was out of control. He laughed about everything, put the program we were given the inevitable cultured pearl factory speaker mode, and burst suddenly a "Tururú Tururú" which made the tourists looking him, he began to dance on top of a fence post ... Her hair was as always when he had spent more than three days in a wet area, curled and abundant, like a child. The fact is that we are being silly for the whole afternoon, especially her, and we had a great time. We bought a pair of crystal figurines, a pearl for mothers ... typical, but with a touch of hooliganism rarely saw him again. It did not seem it, but I went into a bomb.

I've only seen him on another occasion a similar approach, very similar, not from her, but our son. Occurred after the food of his first communion. Sergio, as serious as it ever was, suddenly started to do geese, without stopping, happy, laughing and making splitting break out laughing the whole family, grandparents, uncles and cousins \u200b\u200bincluded, with a repertoire that surely deserves a future entry in this blog. At that time, I could not help thinking of that famous afternoon in Palma de Mallorca. Sergio was the alter ego of that exact Pilar could not stop laughing.

Blood of his blood, no doubt.

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Yes. One year no less. On 29 September, to be exact. The day was sad, no doubt about that. I received several calls from family and friends. All I remember like it was yesterday. However, looking back, I think we'll overcome, one way or another. The proof is that now we talk about it all without complex. A Sergio will often say "Remember when Mom said?. The pain is giving way to remember more and more alive and more endearing that when she died Pilar. I can see videos that came her recent photographs, etc. I return to the blog after the summer parentheses.

"During adolescence, there is the character of the person," after a certain age, people do not change "... Are all phrases that we have ever heard, and that most of the time we have taken for certain, for dogmas of faith, those of which we considered not even valid, because we believe they are true.

people, change. You bet they change. I, without going any further, I have changed dramatically two years now, and I have no less to forty-eight years, so, or the dogma of faith is not entirely true, or not entirely true depending on what cases, or I'm a weirdo, which at this point in the film would cost me to assimilate, because I always considered a person more or less balanced and rather plain little.

Why am aware of my hand, if there was any?. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross defined very well in his book about grief and pain, "one of those books that I want ye never read, but I strongly recommend that if ever you see yourself immersed in a situation as painful as mine. The author speaks of the change occurring in people who have suffered the loss of a loved one. Suddenly, the problems of others seem silly compared to the loss has affected him. The death of a loved one is not just that, a terrible loss, but a brutal collision, direct, and stomach, knowing that we all have to die. That phrase, said well, do not say anything that has not seen a situation like that. A situation that touches us obliquely when death occurs is that of a close relative, we can be very painful, but that does not affect us much as our spouse, the person I had decided to share lifetime.

Things look differently when you acquire the knowledge that someday, sooner or later, you're going to meet with that person you've loved so much. We all believe in a sense immortal. When we hear on the radio the statistics of car accidents, of those affected by diseases, or those affected by natural disasters in the depths of our soul we are convinced that this is not going with us, we will take forever. Well, friends, at the loss of Pilar, that belief fades, and I have become aware that any day I can come to me. It's hard to assimilate, very hard, and I'm not sure that is capable of power explain the feeling of which I speak, but what I can assure you is that the scale of problems, or rather what we consider problems, undergoes a radical change. Many things that previously made me real uphill seem silly today.

This attitude can create gaps in our relationships with others, from the fact that, when someone has a problem (or a hypothetical problem, most of the time), I can build, albeit not deliberate, to not giving the importance that should give so that others perceive that the matter concerns me. It is difficult to explain. The truth is that rarely, even in the life of Pilar, I had a minimal awareness of what can be a problem, mostly because more or less all I have been solved, but now, after the tragedy, and the situation that we have suddenly been pushed my son and I, anything else seems unimportant, and the worst is that many times I can not hide it, or it costs me a lot. Anything that raises me, I have the habit of thinking fucking uncontrollably, "at least he is alive", which, although most of us do not seem so, because we consider ourselves immortal, is the most important I can assure you.

listen to my arguments about the couple, usually among the members of my family or couples. Are arguments to the air, dropped so that those who hear them give one reason or another. I've always done a certain grace that we have that need people around us give us the reason. Is not this really a bit absurd?. The first thing you have to give the reason one is yourself, and do not think you have to seek the approval of others, especially when others put them in the position of having to choose between one of two members the couple. No matter what is spoken. Any argument, pilgrim, can be justified with words (even the most intransigent Nazism was justified in the eyes of the people with arguments). On this basis, all that a couple take to the face is just a string of accusations, they will not go anywhere unless it is no longer broadcast. When it comes to the silences between a couple, it is dangerous, when in question, is always there, of course, respect of each other. The silences between couples are as dangerous as insults or humiliations. When you get to this point, it means that the relationship between the couple is dead. Then comes the divorce, in some cases, or abuse others, if one of the two partners is not strong enough to root out the relationship. But even when it reaches this point, there is always a possibility turning back. There is hope that one of the two changes, and realize the stupidity that has been setting aside a couple as wonderful as I had.

know not look down, and that often leads to dead ends that do not do anything to give us on the head, without being able to find a solution. Experiment seem mice in a maze of corridors that lead nowhere. That is something that more or less I'm starting to learn in these past two years. I stand at a point slightly above the problem and see its size and importance, most of the time is ridiculous. Sometimes I think about it, and wonder "what we do, Pilar?". Then I will always remember those "bah, nothing happens," Pilar let go with that strength his face any obstacles ahead touchdown. It was a luxury to share this pride philosophy of life, I assure you. Once I figure a post with that optimism that characterized it, that smile above all, the problem disappears, or at least I see it differently. I am also learning to not causing me problems, something that many couples also are used. They can create problems for the other attitude. We are very upset that the other is lying on the couch while we ironed, for example. We realize the other it also seems worthy, or that it is possible that you had a bad day at work, and we hide it so we are not depressed. In a situation like this, maybe the sensible thing is to ask "Is something wrong?" And give a little to his fatigue.

been a year.

Milena Velba Milk Side Of Road

AE20 - Psychotherapy and entheogens in the deployment of human consciousness - Mikel García


In this talk, which opens the lecture series of the 2009-2010 Association Eleusis - Mike Garcia over 30 years experience as a physician and 22 as a psychologist, will explore the convergences, confrontation and integration between historically distant initiatory pathways, psychotherapy and entheogens' exploring myths, fears and resistance, in order to outline a constructive interaction log for integration ", in the words of Mike Garcia.


Mike Garcia has practiced his profession in various capacities in the medical profession, from medicine to rural mental health. His background includes reichina therapy, Jungian analytical psychology and transpersonal psychotherapy.

Bachelor of Medicine degree in psychology.
psychotherapist integrative analytic orientation.
With experiential and theoretical training in: Psychoanalytic Therapy, Reichian body-mind
, Jungian Analytical Psychology, Transpersonal Psychotherapy and Training
in Systemic Therapy. Experience
32 years as a doctor and 22 years as a psychotherapist: 10 years as a medical
holiday in Spain (1977-1996), 6 years as a clinical psychologist
public mental health centers and hospital
Osasumbidea (Navarra Health Service, 1987 - 1993) and since 1993
works as a physician and psychotherapist in private practice. Awardee
program "Child Abuse and checkout of the
Children" of Donostia (San Sebastián, 2001-2003). Collaborating with NGOs
medical
international intervention and community health programs. Researcher consciousness.
currently a member of the SEPPI (Society Española de Psicología y
Psicoterapia para la integración), de la que es responsable de la
sección de Terapia Sistémica, de A.T.R.E (Asociación Transpersonal
Española), y de la SEPAI (Sociedad Española de Psicología y Análisis
Integrativo).

WEB: http://www.iravajra-cuicatlsin-panitxo.org
Blog: http://mikelgarcia.blogspot.com/

ENTRADA GRATUITA

2 de Octubre 2009, 20:30 horas

en Off Limits . C/Escuadra, 11 (Madrid) ver mapa

Average Sizes By Country

French Champagne orange label

From summer 1989 to summer 1990 is a kind of emptiness in my memory. I remember that things ran their course, that our relationship worked like a charm, which at that time I was leaving the skin in another different company earning less money but much quieter, I was doing some apartment buildings and some houses in sector 1 of Leganés, and that by then we were lucky to meet a real beautiful person, a surveyor who had the technical direction of the work in which I was, and named David Muñoz. Great person, great professional, and above all a person with a charming character, conciliatory, tolerant and great kindness. What at first was merely an employment relationship, became over time a deep friendship, both Pilar and I had the honor to keep up with David, with his wife, Ana, and Ana's cousin, Ruby, living with them. A very special relationship of friendship and affection. Since 1991, when I went back to change a company for homes in Aranjuez, started dating regularly with them, the truth is that we always kept a very pleasant. Talk about that relationship when the time comes, because at that time I met him, but the friendship came later.

I think it was a weekend of fall of 89, or maybe 90, when Pilar and I tie the blanket to the head, bought a couple of bottles of French champagne (Veuve Clicquot, or something. That of the orange label. I can not forget in my entire life), a delicatessen (quiches, canapés design and pastries), and we got a trip to the heart of the Sierra de Gredos, none other than the hostel. I remember Angel Boyo, a fellow surveyor David in the works of Leganés, who apparently knew the area well, and started to give me pamphlets explaining how to reach different peaks of such a prestigious place. I let them talk for a while, but as I saw that it was excited, probably thinking that instead of a weekend, I went to the Sierra de Gredos for a year, I had no choice but to put you in a hand of friendship in shoulder, and say "Look, Angel, do not bother, I'm a couple of days, and not even think out of the Parador." "Not even going to see the peak of nosequé?." "Well, if we have time, maybe. We'll see. " The truth is that the day we arrived we took a walk in the evening, no more than five hundred meters around the Parador, and immerse ourselves fully in the charm of a building, one of the few I've seen, in the the entrance and reception is the highest area of \u200b\u200bthe site. To access the rooms had to go down the elevator, do not rise, because the Parador, the first to be built in Spain (the first was built as a Parador, because the chain has adapted almost always much older buildings, as castles, hospitals, etc.). After Ride, Pilar and I snails for about an hour through the halls and large rooms, then we got into the room, and we held half Tona with the champagne that we lasted until the next day. One of the best weekends we spent together.

I've never seen Pilar impaired by alcohol, but it is true that, as he drank a little more, you put some rouge tremendous, "he went up the turkey," as she said, and laughter began to drop and non-stop jokes to the point where sometimes laugh so much, I started to cough. His eyes shone a lot, and spoke like humming. Hence no happened. Reached a point, unlike most people, which was joyful, but always monitor the situation. In my case it was not. Sometimes (the few times we've drunk, that in twenty years will have been three or four) I spent a little, and she scolded me. When he looked at me with piercing eyes and say "enough is enough, right?" Threw me was shaking and temptations of squares and military-style salute. On that occasion the two drank together, locked in a hotel room, in a privileged environment, and we were the happiest couple in the world. The room next door had to complain, because we got a knock on the door. After the delicatessen conveniently watered eat, we laugh the same, but muted. The next day we woke up late, with some but very bearable hangover breakfast like beasts, and know a little what the environment gave us a tour of the Sierra de Gredos before returning to Madrid.

Christmas passed very similarly to the previous year. At that time, the main parties each spent at home, and only stayed on Christmas morning, Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve New Year's week apart, of course, the usual trips to purchase center gifts for the whole family, eat a bacalaitos or croquettes Home Labra, and sometimes enter the Imperial Cinema to see a film of Walt Disney, for that to maintain a tradition of which we had both enjoyed our childhood. The family was well, my father had thinned much to the fright he had given the heart earlier this year, and all was very normal. Alternated recovered our outings with friends of mine and his (Juan Antonio and Maise, Maricarmen and Emilio, Montse, Javier, Luis and Felipe, etc), and mostly spent much time alone. The fact let me work in Leganés crippled every day, especially since he came home to so many, and even some weekdays did for ourselves, the fact is that the highlight came the end of the week.

During that year, just before spending the weekend at the Parador de Gredos, I had no choice but to change my crushed red Peugeot 205 lifetime for a brand new Fiat Tempra, much larger and elegant, but still no air conditioning, no power windows, and without all the crap we've grown accustomed over the years. It helped me decide that one day, going to work in Leganes, I heard a tremendous noise came from the engine. I was lying, and take it to the workshop, told me that he had broken a rod. A breakdown large enough, it took almost a week to repair. The Fiat Tempra was on offer, and after teaching Pilar few catalogs that left her dazed, I bought from a dealer in Alcorcón. I remember the smell of new I had, which lasted a couple of weeks, and Pilar me banned smoking inside. What little smoke, because my father was in the midst of anti-smoking campaign with the whole family, and little by little we are quitting all. The fact is that I embarked on the car without spending a penny, because the new company earned less than he had been before. We did not care. We were still happier than worms.

always been so, other side.

What Surgery Did Mandingo Get

A week in Salou

It was our first outing together. Nothing less than a week in Salou, in the heart of Mediterranean beach, in the month of July, and in full swing in our relationship. We left Madrid

morning in a rickety bus, of which no longer exist or scrapping. The seats were like stone, the suspension was suspended (did not exist, go), and the air conditioning was gossiping about plastic stuck to the roof of the trunk, not even moving and, of course, threw the air. Someone had put there to hide, I suppose, like those chemical toilets that are available to all modern buses and, in circumstances that still do not know, never work. Times were different. A Pilar and I do not care the least inconvenience. To have each other and we had plenty enough for us. We spent almost the entire trip making plans for the rest of the week, mulling over how much fun it was to be Salou, and what fun we were going to happen.

After a fourteen-hour trip (would be considerably less, but we seemed to fourteen), and a couple of stops on the way to eat and to straighten out the legs, we finally arrived to Salou in the afternoon. After crossing the entire area center so famous summer resort, with their guards, their cars, their families, with umbrella, their congestion, their jobs and vacationers churros shirt tied at the belly, the bus dropped us off at a hotel in the northern or too far or too close to the hub, but yes, pretty close to the beach.

We were young, we face lovebirds, I suppose, and so we spent what we had to pass. The English picaresque has no limits, and not crooks. After going accommodating all passengers in the bus (I think we all had taken notes at the same agency) in order of age, more mature younger us was the turn of the last couple or so of our age, and us. I already had quite a while, while waiting, tired and sitting on our bags, listening to sounds of drills, miter saws, electric saws and jackhammers to that seemed to come from another wing of the hotel was under construction. Pilar, that stuff has always been very long, also realized quickly. "Here are works," he said. Anyway, the receptionist, a man with slicked, slick gray suit and more than the president of a raffle, met us at four, and without a hair cut, he said that the area was not left alone works a room, the room was another area full of rubble, bricks and cement, and we had no choice but to negotiate with us to see who was the crown jewel, the habitation of the area free of vandals. The guy from the other couple looked at us with eyes of lamb, and said OK, come on, you lot. Pilar and I looked, with that gesture between us has always meant that "and some balls" and without exchanging any comments, we headed straight to the receptionist. "Look," he said, with a very low voice, lest we hear the other couple, but very firm. A tone that has always been successful, both as a mi-Pilar, if you intend rent us both to the other couples like us, a room in a work zone, right now we're four for consumption, after passing the police station, and we put a complaint you close the stall you in half an hour. Do not you know that renting a room in a work zone is completely illegal? ". Needless to say, I had no fucking idea whether that was illegal or not, but I guess that yes he was, but the fact is that this good man "changed color" as they say in the villages. Turned white, looked again a notebook, or whatever else you have on the counter (Pillar I said then, starting to laugh, that what had was watched TV programs), and immediately he said "excuse me, but he looked bad. Are two rooms in this area. " The other couple were melted in gratitude, because despite my attempt at discretion, they heard my rant. Throughout the week, every time we found them somewhere (Salou is very small, or it was before, I mean), thanking us again what we had done for them, allowing them to sleep in a room conditions.

In Salou Pilar happened to me with something that has been repeated many times along our journey together. The fact that she had traveled a lot before he met me, not only for Spain but for many parts of Europe, enabled him to pose as knowledgeable. Of course I knew Salou, a trip he had made small with their parents. The first night I took her arm and guide our steps toward the center. "Come over here and see if we see the sources of color." Their memories were vague, as she herself said, but gave the very bloody first with fountains of Salou that change color with a sophisticated lighting system. The counterpoint to that night, like most, they put the two huge ice cream, king size, we got under his belt not entrust to anyone. During

the day we tumbábamos like lizards on the beach, to hack around and swim occasionally. Tuti We were plain, as the aristocrats, renting a straw umbrella the size of the circus tent of the Sun, and two plastic chairs to do what its name suggests, ie lie down. The first day, as they happen to urbanites, Pilar spent a bit of sun, and turned red as a tomato, but not even burn. The color of his skin took, curiously, the same red color that had the bikini she was wearing, so that when looked at with eyes closed, looked like he was naked. Luckily, no blood reached the river, and the sun was so harmful as now, what with a few hands of crema, the thing was over, and the next day we returned to enjoy the sunny day, but in moderation.

night, after dinner, we were devoted to compass the city. We've always liked all kinds of dive shops. Pilar laughed when I said that a site shop Beach without floats, buckets for sand and rubber ducks, there was a place of beach and Salou, in that sense not only meets, but surpasses all forecasts. There, and there was all kinds of shops. Clothing, ornaments, electronic gossip impossible classification, tacky, who like the foreigners, of memories made shells with pins to clothes, or painted mussel shells, leather belts, bags, shoes (to Pilar's eyes shone when she saw a shop or shoe bags) of "Guarrera" ... A complete world-compulsive consumer

Once we got into a kind of attraction that was the first time I went to Spain. Today is more than overcome, but at that time was a novelty. This was the version Saloureña "(I have no idea what the place name) of the passage of terror, which makes a journey through different rooms where there are actors portraying famous scenes horror movies of all time. The truth is that we were impressed, especially when the actress who played the girl in the Exorcist, which had a crazy look that could not with her, got out of bed, threw on the side of Pilar and me, we were the last of the group, and began to insult quietly, saying "you bastards, I'm very wrong, that really kill you, I have a knife (and noted the front), and here nobody knows, motherfuckers. .. ". When you reach the next room, the good woman turned around and went back to bed to await the next group.

never know if the woman was actually crazy, or was an actress from head to toe, but the fact is that I can hardly recall another time in our life where we have been more afraid.

Bloody Discharge Instead Of Period

AE19 - Psicocine: The psychedelia on celluloid

Igor Domsac . Periodista, video-creator and multidisciplinary artist, presented a montage of highlights of psychedelia in the film. Director of magazines and Enteogenia Consciens Alter, a member of Energy Control and collective Interzone is the author of several chapters on film in the collection Pisconaútica (Ediciones Amargord). His latest craze goes by the name Cosmikrobiosis , a sensory journey psycholytic based therapies Salvador Roquet.

your enjoyment and Enrique Manuel Carriedo Viallescusa , experts and inclusive therapeutic use of music with a concert harmonic chants mixed with instruments like the hang, the sansula and Tibetan bowls. FREE ENTRY



June 4, 2009, 19:30

in Off Limits. C / bracket, 11 (Madrid) see map




Missed the conference? not worry, here's the full video of assembly of Igor

Mature Women In Girgles

Bohemian Nights

remember with particular affection the summer of 89, mainly for two reasons: first, that Pilar first came to the beach where I had spent almost Every summer since 1974 (states soon. From the age of twelve. All life), and second, we made our first trip together, four whole days to Salou.

The summer of that year appeared calm. My father had fully recovered from the stroke. Had thinned considerably, and did not smoke or allow others to smoke (I think by that time I was tolerant, but that certainly did not admit was that smoking in their presence). He was calm and happy, knowing that we were all awaiting him at all times, ready to satisfy their whims, these were minimal. My parents went to the beach as usual, in early summer, with my brother, who was still studying, and my sister, who was on the weekends. I appeared with Pilar in mid-July or August, in the only week we had could agree on vacation.

is curious, and sometimes complicated to introduce the girl you're dating a group of friends that I knew almost from wearing shorts. Occur in these situations sometimes slightly absurd, as happened also in our case. The typical lifetime friend, it is to have droit de seigneur, or something on your criteria, are allowed their say. For him, Pilar is a complete unknown, and assumes that to me is too. Allowed the luxury of enumerarte the girls you could have come out, and apparently have not done it all but because it gave you the win. Throw in your face Somebody's niece was twinkie or for your bones, and you did not the case. And tells you all that in the course of an eternal night, half soaked in alcohol, when Pilar has decided to go to sleep because I was really tired, and also on the beach hits a dip in voltage that causes an almost constant state of drowsiness. I guess that friend had been very happy if in a fit of lucidity, I had said to cries of "you're right, I do not know as I could throw me girlfriend no call ahead to ask for your approval. Right now I go home, wake her, break her, and I roll up with twinkie. " From what I did not realize my makeshift mentor, was such that twinkie was over me like the shit at some point in our lives, that their views did not interest me cheap, and that was so in love with Pilar that I wanted nothing more than to be with her. I realized that the next day, after that sad night that I realized that what really happened to my lifelong friend, was that I was slightly annoyed that I had missed girlfriend and not him.

Not everyone on the beach he was unfamiliar with Pilar. For those coincidences of life, had spent a week several years ago in Gandia, accompanied by her sister Montse and Nevis, which were so common on the beach could be me. That helped quickly enough to make friends with some people. However, there was a week what they say perfect, so I've told before. It was difficult even to me, mixing people from all life with the person they had decided to share my life in the future. Faithfully comply with all stages of what it means spending a few days on the beach. Morning lying in the sun, sand and coated with sporadic water courses, afternoon naps and reading, and nights out to Gandia, summer film in the sandwich hand, or nightclub. In those days the area highlighted by a named Hexagon macrodiscoteca worthy predecessor of all cod fishing maremágnun that years later expanded throughout the coastal area. Allen was a universe of music at full blast, lush vegetation, dance floors with terraces at different levels, and bars everywhere. It looked like a tropical jungle. Personally, I liked another club named Pampols, on the road to Oliva. Although it was much more cumbersome, without outdoor courts with a single track, and all fluids stained sofas impossible cataloging, music was much better, in the eighties style we liked almost all but the honorable exceptions that existed in all types of gangs. I think by that time, Pampols was already closed, so we had no choice but to go with all the Patulea Hexagon.

colored silk shirts impossible tweezers trousers, shirts of those black fishnet stockings, high heels impossible bright girls and boys ... paraphernalia surrounding night out at the club forced to wear a fashion that view today, I think we would vomit. Luckily, at that time, it was almost impossible to take pictures at night, because a good flash was not available to everyone, and in any case, they usually did not bring cameras to these places for fear that our sleeve. At the disco, Pilar passed it well, but without exaggeration. Bailamos very little, partly because the track could not be a pin, and also the music was deafening. I was curious to see what had changed about what I do the goat track. All I wanted was to sit quietly for a while with Pilar, drink up me Gin and Tonic Bloody Mary (I loved that combo. Someday I will tell you how well prepared it in a pub tucked Esquerdo Doctor), and talk in whispers divine and human. We then decided to return to the beach, when the night disco was in full swing. When we left, my friend complained coals Muermos what we had back, etc, etc. I let him talk, to vent, then Pilar and I said goodbye until the next day. We could not more. The next day we went down to the beach early. After a couple of hours down the other, and with glazed eyes and a terrible headache, told us how well it had gone with chis-chis pum-pum till nearly dawn. It's something I've never done all that well understood. Since I started out with Pilar, I completely removed the desire to go out there lobbing until the wee hours of the morning. And do not think it was by its influence. No. I rather think that change was due to a need for me to spend more time with her, without any external plugins. We have passed from death many times a night, but just chatting with friends about transcendental issues, usually related facts and events of other friends at that time were not present. I guess that's something that happens to everybody. When you're with a group of friends you do to enhance his friendship and to give birth to those who have the privilege to have you among his friends.

Another situation that occurred during the week of 89 was the inevitable trip to the movies of summer. Double bill, gravel floor carpeted with sunflower seed shells and tortilla sandwich remnants, independent chairs of wood and iron, which ended when the film was interesting, bar quenching its normal light and lit a dwelling when the film began , with needlework box office, usher entries that cut it wanted, to return the rest to heel and thus defraud the Treasury, runs and cries to get the best angle, beer or coca-cola on the floor (half of the time was poured), and film in rolls, sometimes burned, and sometimes became unintelligible because the operator was wrong and changed the order of the rolls. All that and much more (fights put next to the girl you liked, racing to "stable", a roofed corral area type, he fell a summer storm, funny comments out loud, sometimes applauded and others jokes), was the film "The Alamo." There was another film Charly ", but which had the upper hand was" The Alamo. " As a ritual, we were all one night, and put on the jacket, at about two o'clock (the first film started at about half past nine, and lasted nearly half an hour break, so echad accounts), Pilar and I took the opportunity to embrace and give warmth to each other. A memorable night.

In the next post I will tell you our trip to Salou.

Request A Prom Dress Catalogue

heat shock of 89 Great

spent the Holy Week, and started the hot phase. That year seemed to anticipate the summer. I remember with great uneasiness that car journeys with no air conditioning, a work to another, increasingly numerous and far away, always with a cigarette sticking out the window, steering wheel, red hot, and a tape cassette playing at full blast, while not binding, in an ancient cassette player several kilos. By then listened indiscriminately Shrimp, Miles Davis, Asphalt, Iceberg, Sisa, Charlie Parker and others of that ilk undocumented. That changed when he picked up Pilar, who put tape Black, Serrat, Roberto Carlos, and other wildlife far more elegant than I was attracted to me. His presence served to dignify the car. I always missed the bronze if roles had been flat or the back seat scattered haphazardly and forced me to put everything before moving. Occasionally opened the trunk, and put everything in perfect order, I have always been unable available. It was she who bought the right environment, which gave the order to bring it to washing, cleaning out the glove box of papers and all those useless minutiae that drives everyone.

One Saturday indeterminate, between Easter and summer, left with Monty and Javier, Luis and Felipe, etc, and spent the afternoon at the home of the latter. A wonderful evening, which lasted until the wee hours of the morning. On returning home, after leaving his Pilar after a long talk in the car (it was another custom ours. Never we found the time to say goodbye at all, except in the rare cases in which there was a mosqueo involved) I found a picture of those who never forget, because you is recorded in memory as a fire, my mother, in pajamas, emerged from the darkness of the hallway, crying, and told me my father had given him a heart attack.

When I was scared of the situation, especially because the last thing I expected was that my mother was awake so late in the morning, we can add the gravity of the news, also released so suddenly from nowhere, without anesthesia nothing. Let's not forget that in those days, mobile phones were still an unattainable dream. I remember that the heart was quickly latirme while my mother began to tell of the details, but without going into much depth. Tan I was nervous that I can not think of anything else to call the Hospital Puerta de Hierro, a place which had led him to inquire about his condition, and without taking into account all the time it was. The kind nurse who took my phone (any other would have sent me away by telephone at that time) told me that my father was in the ICU, but quiet and fully stabilized. I told my mother, who was more relaxed at the news and left to mourn, and I was left with the question of whether to call or not to tell Pilar. Fortunately sanity prevailed and I decided to let him rest.

that night, how could it be otherwise, I slept little and poorly, and the next day I woke up more tired than I had slept. No more waking up, I called Pilar and told what happened. I immediately said that he came with me to the Puerta de Hierro Clinic. I told him not to leave him, and tell him that afternoon, but he insisted, and after just over an hour, picked it up and we went there.

My father was in the ICU, and could only move one at a time. When my turn came after my mother and my sister, I fit those plastic booties are in hospitals, and entered the room. The poor thing was piped from the top down, and when I saw could not help getting excited.
The heart of my father marked a before and after in his life. Had begun to feel ill in the house of a friend in the Negrales after dinner and play a game very smooth pediment. Discomfort initially blamed the food, but when he had to lie because they do not take it anymore, my mother insisted that the friend asked for an ambulance. Were it not for the intuition and the insistence of my mother, it is very possible that he had not counted.

just spent a couple of days in the ICU. Then, on Tuesday or Wednesday of next week, I went to a room. Pilar and I went to see him almost every day. It was the first time there was something serious in my family, and We were all very sensitive. I remember those days with a great burden of sadness, because things also began to twist in the company. Every time there was more work, I either had too much experience, and that made things get complicated. Luckily, Pilar was at my side, though, I suppose inevitably, because of what my father and the sad situation in the company, my character changed. She was full of optimism, although his company also things were starting to get hard, with an excessive workload and pressure on employees out of the ordinary.

Over time, we realized that my father had given therapeutic infarction. Following that, quit smoking and lost a lot of kilos. The worst was the aftermath, as both my brother Javier and I had to quit too, because smoked about a pack of Winstons diary, my father went on to become a smoke-free allatola attitude that continues even today . The fact is that substantially improved their health, out soon in the Puerta de Hierro Clinic, took the corresponding strength tests and analysis, and everything returned to normal. The doctor who treated him said he had seen worse angina your heart, but be careful anyway, and he did. Go he did. For that was also my mother's watchful eye for anything that might harm, both in terms of food, as in regard to daily exercise.

Pilar's attitude in those hard moments of my life was to be by my side at all times. We knew many couples, leading to even more years of marriage, had come down with any problems you had one, and I had even thought at the time that Pilar was undergoing a very tough test. It was at that time still very far from knowing the real status of the person who had decided to share my life. About my father, who had done me a world I do not was almost nothing compared with what would come next, and I mean the last two years, but events, not very distant in time, which will turn them in next entries. It was the first time we experienced a situation of serious family illness of a close relative, although she had had the experience of suffering the death of his aunt Amadora and one of his sons, both of cancer. A terrible experience. I was, so to speak, more accustomed to the pain that I had never even lived a similar experience. Pilar that maturity helped me cope with more or less completeness the whole thing from my father.

Why Do I Have To Blow My Nose After I Eat

AE18 - The inner journey: Presentation of the magazine in its tenth anniversary Ulises


Ulises magazine - travel magazine presented at Eleusis inside your new number

Ulises magazine, in both intellectual and creative project, arrives in its journey to its tenth destination .. Ten lanes and sidewalks numbers indicating very diverse topics such as consciousness and their status, Orientalism, meditation, entheogenic experience, drunkenness or the visual arts and art.

Presenting the participants reaped the "inner journey" which enters the Journal Ulises from their different perspectives experiential, aesthetic and creative based on their own approaches to the modification of consciousness and culture that comes from same.

The theme Eleusis Association offers you this call is for the inner journey from the point of view of aesthetics and inspiring creativity from the magazine profile that provides Ulises hand several of his collaborators.

Involved: Silvia Grijalva

: Journalist (El Mundo).
writer's books "God save the scene", "Trapped in limbo", "Quick relief" and
editor of the compilation of rock lyrics "Word of rock."
Tribune-Telemadrid White Nights. Fernando Pardo

: Ulises Editor "Books of the March Hare-

Jose Carlos Aguirre : Author of" From the psychedelic to the entheogenic culture "and editor of the book" Mapping entheogenic experience "and" visionary. "magazine editor and Generacion.net Ulysses.

Javier Esteban : Writer," "The right to drunkenness", "Doze" and "Diario de Jesús Neira" . Director of Generacion.net. Tribune-White Nights-
Telemadrid
May 13, 2009, 20:30

in Off Limits. C / bracket, 11 (Madrid) see map

Can You Use Mac Makeup When Pregant

Days of Christmas

After the hangover of lights, colors, flavors and smells that meant that Christmas of 1988, began in 1989, it should be. A year that was presented with a hectic work, both for Pilar and me. The advertising agency where she worked, in the heart of the colony of El Viso, fuming, and he undertook to reform and rehabilitate the company he worked for were becoming more numerous. A flurry of work that did not correspond to the staff assigned to it, that far from increasing, sometimes decreasing. Every time I adjudicated over works, and located in increasingly remote locations together. The poor red Peugeot 205 was increasingly overwhelmed, and I with him. Anecdotally

memory, connected precisely with the car, tell them I remember well the foul smell of snuff to beat us both Pilar and me, every time we got into the cockpit. In summer was not so serious the matter, because we had to force open the windows. And giving the crank, because by then there were no convenient buttons now. And why had to force open the windows?. Because my short budget did not allow for comfort, and because a car with air conditioning, if existed at that time was a luxury for the simple Curritos pockets like us. The fact is that, at that time, I and many of those who got in the car (except Pilar, of course) smoked like chimneys, and we used to fill the ashtrays, ashtrays (including power doors. I remember there were six or seven. Is it possible that there were even on the back of the front seats?. So I do not get there). Much of the Friends weekend hikers smoked, or was a real disaster, trying to relieve a base to buy different environments, each more tacky and not very durable. This happened in cars around the world, I think you go to mine was the only one. The curious thing is that now if I get in the car of someone who smokes inside, I feel sick almost instantly. It seems incredible how it has changed our ability to hold (do any of you would be able to put on now a trip Madrid-Cádiz, on a country road and several district, with the car full of packages, six people inside, no air conditioning, and having to stop every fifty miles to avoid breaking the fan belt?. Well, Pilar and I had done several times when we did not know yet, with our respective parents and other family. With a pair.

We saw little those early months of 89. The two had just so exhausted that many weekday afternoons preferred to go straight home to rest. The cold, rain and the air does not exactly make should stay. Our opportunity for compensation for having spent so little time together (excluding weekends, of course, that was entirely for us) came when he presented the Holy Week of that year. Pilar Both parents like mine made their plans, as it was sent, and some went to town, and the other to the beach. Both Pilar and I put the excuse of having to work on Saturday (which in my case it was true, but only for a couple of hours) and we stayed in Madrid, with all the house of Pilar and mine for us, because my brothers had gone with my parents.

were four days of dreams. In a fairly small scale, we had the opportunity to meet, in a superficial way, but reliable, quality was going to have our future coexistence. We were so comfortable lying to pin the flat, not even we set out to nowhere. On Saturday afternoon, a little something to loosen the muscles, we made a superhuman effort, and pulling forces "openness", says a friend of mine (for those who want to know how it really says is "his courage" ), we took the car and headed to Chinchón, although was only to have something to tell that again on Sunday.

Chinchón remember that afternoon as one of the most disgusting of all our lives. The shit (when Pilar said, "I have shit", referring to a lethal mix of sleep, fatigue, boredom and laziness in general. Manifested by yawning, stretching arms and legs, and in its acute phase, through dreams cast in the most unexpected places and at the most inopportune) that we invaded, had to join the tremendous heat that day made more aplatanado if possible by the rainfall during the previous day. To make matters worse, Chinchón was full of people, who had spent all day watching and waiting processions. "We had a help to find a spot at an inn on the main square for dinner a scrawny thorn of tortilla and a Calamari, which we nailed like nobody ever had.

After a couple of hours of walking, yawning, to contain shoving, and buy the odd souvenir bullshit, Pilar and I looked into his eyes, and decided, without saying anything, which was fine, for we had already had our trip, and that it was time to go home. The rest of the week as we finish doing just what we did before our departure to Chinchón: show Roman compulsively films that have marked in the course of our life, year after year, without fainting or rest. Quo Vadis, The Robe (the tone for the more irreverent salt), King of Kings, Ben Hur (the good, the Charlton Heston several years he was placed in a cinema in the Gran Via or Fuencarral not remember, with a poster of several thousand square meters) and The Ten Commandments, a film that I have never understood what he was painting there, because its action was developed several thousand years before what was supposed to remember at Easter.

Pilar and I swallow all these films, suitably dressed with the corresponding plates of fries, Panchito, hooks and other delicatessen conveniently irrigated with a mixture of red wine and coca-cola (Ripple).

When they finished the four-day holiday, both Pilar and I were convinced we would not have no problem living together. We almost came to bother having to receive the relatives back home. On Monday and Tuesday we seeing, although it was not our custom to keep the good feeling that we had during the party itself. We had photos, we had not gone, we had not gone to dinner at any landmark, we had not seen anything new, nor even the street, but we had a great time. The two discovered during those happy days, and has remained so over the many years we have shared together, we never need anything but each other. We have enjoyed outings, travel, friends and family, but when the circumstances have led us, or we forced to take us to spend a period of more or less short time the two of us, not only we have not imported at all, but we have learned to enjoy it as few people know how. Of course there has been friction, long faces and bad feelings, but luckily have lasted far less than the happiness I have always felt with each the other. We traveled both alone and then with Sergio, the three solos. We enjoyed both of these trips as we have done with family and friends. In all we counted the days until its completion, with sadness in thinking back to work, the neighborhood, the routine goes. We have never had to end an early stage, out of boredom or nostalgia than usual. Quite the contrary. And if we're not out, as on this occasion I have told you today, we have enjoyed as kids. The key?. Have each other, simply.

Which Lifetime Fitness Fees Are Negotiable?

AE17 - AE16


Eleusis association dedicated to the study of miscellaneous states of consciousness, inviting us on Thursday June 4 to intoxicate the senses with a new delivery of Psicocine Eleusis audiovisual psychedelic trip-to the margins of perception. Prepare your brain for an extrasensory experience that will trigger your brain. The entry includes a shot of absinthe. Jerome

MM presented a selection of videos, short films and documentaries exploring the most curious margins psiquedelia from 60 to today

Wednesday, April 22, 2009, 20:30

in Off Limits . C / bracket, 11 (Madrid) see map

Fotos De Alguien Solo

coexistence of 89 Pillar

The Christmas of 1989 marked a before and after in our way of celebrating this event so outstanding. Until then, such as Pilar and I had the habit of leaving on the evening of New Year, a large mass parties in clubs, or those organized by the Faculty of Medicine at the Hospital on October 1. That year, as I will tell later, we ended up with this habit.

Our relationship was still young enough to have dinner together every night above with your family or mine. This practice the acquired several years later, when we started living together. That year we just phone us the night Christmas Eve, and ourselves, to go to the movies, the evening of Christmas Day. The rest of the party enjoyed a few days of vacation, and we do, like two children, to visit the landmarks of Madrid at Christmas, as the various births that are placed everywhere and especially Cortylandia that at that time still worthwhile.

As the days passed was accumulating in our bodies, especially mine, the fat in marzipan, polvorones, candies of all flavors, and sweet of doubtful origin, involved, however, in bright papers colors. Visits to the Plaza Mayor, where two cousins \u200b\u200bPilar, Sonsoles and Roman, assembled a post cribs every year, chocolate con churros at any coffee shop in the area (except in San Ginés. It's something I will never understand: the fame that has this facility when the chocolate is by far the worst served in Madrid , their churros starving, and the atmosphere always disagreeable. On top of what you served in plastic cups, for the love of God!), compulsive buying all kinds of gifts and handicrafts which are very good in the corresponding position but fatal over television in your home, and all that, ultimately, is usually made at Christmas. Needless to say, the extra pay that year flew like a charm so much out and buy absurd, but we did not care, because we were happy as a worm, and the lights and insistent jingle told us nothing was wrong, it was Christmas, and had to spend.

Serve all the above as a kind of irony about our attitude toward Christmas. That first year we did not know yet in detail. We were groping each other, and sometimes we callábamos our opinion, prudence, and above all, respect for others. The truth is that we never liked Christmas. Apart from the cold and rain, something that deeply hated Pilar, Christmas has always been seen as a shameless and wasteful trade event. We began to enjoy something When Sergio was small, and we brought to the parade, the cribs or any other place intended to kids, but even in those moments cost us enjoy. Pilar always said it was absurd that spirit of warmth, cheerfulness, love of neighbor, when the rest of the year people would continue to be given stab. We enjoyed a family, yes, the dinners and meals together, recalling stories of childhood and remembering, and that is the saddest moment of the year, to the loved ones who were no longer with us. Christmas always meant, both for Pilar and me, a mood close to exhaustion, the saturation commercial and sadness. We have tried, every year, making a break between parties, by the thing off for a few days of collective madness that grips us from near September, when they begin to appear on the shelves of nougat Carrefour.
That year, the last night of the year had a special development because, as I said above, was the latest in a first stage and a different one. We met some good friends, Maricarmen, her boyfriend Emilio, my cousin Juan Antonio and Maise, his girlfriend at the time, with the intention of seeking a place to get us. We rejected the whole idea of \u200b\u200bapproaching the party organized by medical students on October 1. We were saturated with alcohol jug, Brazilian music late mousetrap, slippery with sweat of the dancers compulsive party blowers, garlands and streamers. That year, thanks in part to our purchasing power (well, this is a joke), we had raised go to any club in the area of \u200b\u200bOrense, in consolidated lovebirds plan. Another reason I had forgotten that we do not like going to 1 October, was also no longer needed to go to the desperate search link, the main reason we were motivated in previous years.

After several turns, peeled cold, hands in coat pockets, half fart because of champagne and glasses of wine we had drunk in the respective family dinners, stomach ravaged due to the mixture of pork , red cabbage, polvorones, dried apricots and figs stuffed with nuts, we decided to finally put us in the first that put us ahead. I remember that it was La Nuit, or any of that ilk. We were under no illusion. Finally we would enter into a suitably conditioned, to listen to good music and have a glass of alcohol brands. Well, when we were told the price of admission, I think it was Juan Antonio, and Marianne, who asked innocently "six?", whereupon the box office, who chewed gum and wore glasses with bottle glass of ass is literally Descojonado us and told us "how the six? For beard, bearded man. " When doing a certain grace, I hinted "apiece? So women do not pay ", the blockbuster stopped laughing, and without any consideration we snapped" If you're not going to come, come, lightening, there are people waiting. " We look behind us, and it was absolutely true. Tail, a hundred yards, reached the corner. Another aspect that was discouraged that the majority of the members making up the tail were lacquer to the tabs, just released their coats, their leather shoes, lace blouses and silk ties. We remained faithful to our normal after-aesthetic that had always characterized us in jeans, wool sweaters those horrible vertical twists that we bought our mothers, an act of torture by which today the law of least in hand, should meet several months' sentence.

The things got ugly. We were bored of spinning, and we were not willing to spend a fortune for a night for us and was starting to mean nothing. Pilar then started as savior, and he proposed to go home to play cards and watch television. His proposal acted as a balm on our consciences. We agreed quickly, and within half an hour we were under cover, sipping a drink in the comfort of home. I do not remember if Pilar's parents were asleep or had gone to spend the night house Elipa cousins, but the fact is that we pass from death. The following year, even we set out on the street. For us it was over the sweet tradition of going to be cold, to spend and take a gander pasta shit at least you lasted a couple of days and kept you from enjoying the New Year concert directed Von Karajan in Vienna (which also has always seemed a tacky shows, I have to admit), and the traditional New Year's meal composed of remains of last night's dinner.