Misfortune

Not mentioning that this week was a holiday, and the next week is Holly Week, until now, it hasn't been so good.

Tuesday: (since Monday was holiday)
I woke up thinking it was Sunday. Well, at least I was happy that there were only four school days. I started with English, which it wad terribly frustrating since we had la filmed commercial, and a play due on Friday. My group didn't have anything done, and I was realizing that everything would be at last minute. I knew that I should start getting in panic. Then I had Chinese class, and sure it is boring.

Learning a new language is the worse pain ever. Even so, it is such a funny class, since its me and another guy laughing at the teacher. It is not being mean, supposedly we are laughing with the teacher. Unfortunately, it was the worse class ever. The teacher wasn't coming, and a substitute in this class is worthless. To our pleasure, he got a Chinese substitute, it was the most boring and worthless class. It was reading a lot of things which I had no idea, and it was me, fighting the temptation to fall asleep. Unfortunately, there weren't lots if jokes I could do with my friend. Worse of all, we had homework. To suit my day even more, I had math. Mentioning that I had tons of homework, I felt really lost during class, until last minute. I ended up really sad since there was such plain food at lunch. At last, the last class. We had the beautiful notice that everyone had failed the test. Great. Then it was me, the whole evening doing homework, and dying of hunger.

Wednesday:
I could easily say that it was the saddest of all. It turned out to be that we also had a spelling quiz due, and I wasn't able to memorize my lines since I have just 1gb in my brain. Worse of all, I was late for Music. They had just made a policy that for just one minute, there was half an hour of detention. In this case, it was a full after school, and I really didn't want to stay nor Thursday or Friday, since I hate after school. ( mentioned previously on past blogs). Still, the other group had almost the entire class practicing their song, that they haven't finished it since last semester. Finally, when it was our turn, we just had fifteen minutes, and there is no singer. I played horribly, and ended up depressed since I knew I had to stay in detention.

Thursday:
My contact lenses was broken. As for my previous days, I knew it wad a bad sign. So I got on the bus, and had to sit in the back, were you jump and fall since its too bumpy, not mentioning I almost broke my hand trying to get off. Stressed for the play and commercial, and what would I do in detention? At least my day was brightened since we watched a movie in Chinese class. Suddenly, I had the great idea of asking the teacher for a pass, which would excuse my detention. It was great, it was evil, but it wad fair. I didn't deserve the detention, I am always, ALWAYS on time for class, specially that class. Worried he wouldn't give it to me, I rehearsed in my head what I would do. I had the problem that my twin was with me, and didn't want her to be disappointed at me, since I was late.

Anyways, the teacher gave it to me, the problem now was, will the other teacher accept it? I went on Math class, and didn't find him. I planed to go on science, since I knew, I would never find him at lunch. At least he would belief the story, and I'm detention free, but who knows what will happen next. As we arrived home, we were about to leave for horse back riding, my big sister wouldn't find her wallet, which incorporated her license. We were stuck looking for it until we found it in her bag. So I have arrived in this current time, and there is more misfortune to go. What's worse, I don't know why I still feel it is Friday!

The Traumas Of My Life

There are lots of things that freak me out, without counting dinosaurs and the monster who hides in my closet. Unfortunately, I sleep next to my closet, so imagine how I have to deal with it each night. As I feed the monster and shut the door close, I pray he doesn't wake up and bother me at night.

Anyways, these nightmares are not the worse I have. I can have a whole list of them, but I am to lazy to write them all. Even so, I think no one cares, so its just a waste of time.

Things that Freak Me Out #1:
The worse one is being left behind by the school bus going back home. Believe me, I suffer just with the image of, I at just two buses away, when they suddenly go away. It terrifies me. I don't even like the idea of staying in the so called after school. Why would people like to stay after school anyways? Is like having another whole hour of school.

Things that Freak Me Out #2:
Old women in tight pants. I still don't get, why they don't get that are meant for the young and beautiful, not old and wrinkled! Seriously, all the ladies who want to feel young and beautiful, use them. Wannabes. The problem is, they haven't realized that their butts are all worn out, and the jeans they use, don't help for the occasion ( without mentioning how the grandma underwear is visible in every aspect).

Things that Freak Me Out #3:
Bad terror movies. Yea, supposedly they are meant to freak people out, but come on! The terribleness is incredible. There are such stupid
stories and incredibly bad actors. There is also so much blood spilled that even the audience ends up sprinkled in blood. Anyways, at the
beginning I may say how stupid it was, but at night. I should just shut up. I still don't know why I end up so scared. I don't even get scared
while watching it, but at night, I think the images are intensified. I think I also imagine the murder, since its dark.

Things that Freak Me Out #4:
Babies! Those damn babies! All, with their big cheeks and drooling mouths. Not even mentioning that with their small, chubby and sticky
hands, love pulling my hair. What I also detest is that, when they are with me, they end up crying. ALWAYS!

Things that Freak Me Out #5:
The final and ultimate. My aunt. She has each quality of the things that freak me out. I guess not on the bus one. Seriously, she loves
wearing all these tight pants. Not counting the fat that scurries out, the wedgie and her underwear. Freaky. Not mentioning she is such a bad
person, and loves watching you suffer. She has this evil face that could impersonate any maniac murder. She is also as gross as babies,
specially when I have to sit right beside her, and watch how she sticks her finger in the dessert or even in my food. I think this should rather be on the list of What Creeps Me Out.

V for Vengeance

Talking about music, there could not be something worse than amateur rock bands. I don't know why, but two bands came today to our school for a rock concert during lunch. The stage was great since it was big and it was high. They also did a great job trying to fit it all in the amphi theater. Usually rock concerts during lunch time are in a small tent and with the school instruments. It is not that they are bad, but this instruments were great. They were so great for such lame bands. I guess they were professional, since they get paid, but these guys did suck.

The band V for Volume is so lame, that the I don't even like to say their name. I still don't get why I hate them so much, maybe it is since the singer is a cheap imitation of Paramore. Personally I don't like Paramore, but these band was so into it. The singer tries to shout and sing just like the singer of Paramore. At least the singer of V for Volume didn't paint her hair red.

It was so weird since they loved over acting on the stage. I know that usually good musicians love walking down the stage and making the gig as entertaining as possible. But this was so disturbing. They all looked like fools swinging their guitars in the air and trying to look cool at the same time. It only works for some.


Not mentioning they only have like one song, which doesn't even make sense:

I always dreamed of being practical…. Logical….

Until now, it makes sense.

You wanted me married,
You wanted me quiet
You wanted me buried
So you got a riot

What? Why would someone want be married, then buried, then a riot? What is the connection.

Cheap universe

Go to hell or let me go to hell alone,
Why do we have to go together?
This world is made for those who don’t feel at all

Go to hell I would be another girl if I could
But clearly I can’t help myself
This is a cheap universe

This world is made for those who don’t feel at all
This world is made for those who don’t feel at all
This is a cheap universe

You wanted my taxes
You wanted my sins
You wanted my prayers
So you got me cleaned

Why would someone want taxes?

Go to hell or let me go to hell alone,
Why do we have to go together?
This world is made for those who don’t feel at all

Go to hell I would be another girl if I could
But clearly I can’t help myself
This is a cheap universe

This world is made for those who don’t feel at all
This world is made for those who don’t feel at all
This is a cheap universe

So the rest of the song as as mediocre as the beginning. I still don't get what is happening to the music today.

Farewell My Beloved Gillet

I don't spend so much time watching TV or playing video games, but since my dad fixed our PS2, I have spend hours playing. We have very few games, So the one I play most is Gran Turismo 3. Its the best driving simulator ever! I have spend hours and hours driving winning and fixing cars.

When I completed a whole championship, suddenly, there were four cars being raffled. Incredibly I won, the best, the greatest and the invincible, Gillet. I had never heard the brand of this car, so I went into car dealer. It is a car from Belgium with Formula 1 technology. Wow. It had 429 horse power, and it only weighed 850kilos. For people who don't know about cars, this, was a pretty good one. It didn't weigh anything compared to it horse power, do it made it invincible on the track, and it wouldn't waste so much tires. Best of all, it was powered by Alfa Romeo. It was the best car in my garage.

As I continue. Winning more and more crappy cars, I loved my sweet Gillet to the end. It was great, it was perfect. Even so, what I couldn't stand was that I
completed whole championships and cups, and won these crappy cars. I did a whole World Series and for my pleasure, I won an Audi TT. Yes, it may have two turbos, but they don't even work to blow your hair. Instead, my sister just
completes ten laps in Super Speedway, and she wins a Corevette! I was like, what
the? Then, when I complete 100 laps in the same course, I won a Mitsubishi
Lancer tuned by Nismo. I already had like five of those cars in my garage.
Seriously, it had 300horse power and weighed like 1500kilos. This is equal to: a
very slow and crappy car. Even so, I was happy with my Gillet.

One night, my little sister was playing, so I asked her if could let me. With no doubt, she gave me the control. I completed her track in Beginners League,in World Championship. Just to win money and another car. I felt my Gillet kind of
weird since it didn't hold on in the curves as it used to, and I had to fight with the
car to keep it straight. I told myself the lamest excuse: " maybe in beginners
league the cars are different since you are starting to drive, so it is like this so
beginners learn how to drive how it is". No matter how long the excuse was, it
didn't make any sense. So I thought, "maybe I am driving too bad".

The other day, my big sister was driving. She offered me the control since she kept saying she was driving terribly. Oh, how weird. I continued driving, and again, the car was fighting back. Why? What happened to my car?

When my little sister arrived from school, I asked her if she had done something to the car. " No" she would say firmly. I didn't know to belief her or not, since I was in the middle of a series race and I wasn't able to go back to the garage and see any change in the car. In a way, I would be kind of relieved if she had done something to the car, which meant it wasn't I who was driving terrible. Then, I would be furious be I said clearly like a thousand times " No one dares to touch or tune the car, it id perfect as it is, no one dare to change anything".

Then, my little sister said,
Sister: Is that I had lost for one point the series race, I was so angry so I tuned the car with something
Me: WHAT?
Silence
Me: What did you do?
Sister: I don't know, it was cheap and raised the horse power.
I had just lost a race for the last curve(since I was fighting to keep the car straight)
So I exploded.
Me: FOOL! LOOK AT THIS! YOU RUINED MY CAR!
How many times did I tell you never to touch it? The car was perfect as it wad, and you just go around with no idea just putting things inside. The car was already tuned for racing. It was only on beginner's league!

I was angry. Specially when I finished the race and won another crappy car. I went immediately to the garage. 518horse power. Damn! It was too much for the car. I went back to tuning, but there wasn't anything to be done. Many could say, hey chill, its just a game. It may be a game, but I cant just have the car I had before, and I used it in all the race. There was no turning back, my car was ruined.
What made me so angry was that she didn't even care, worse of all, she didn't even say sorry.

Blistered Fingers

Ignoring my blistered fingers of my bass playing, I continue torturing them until one of the several blisters in my fingers explodes, leaving a trail of blood through all the strings. It is not to be cynical, but music is rough. Who knew that you could even end up with bleeding fingers and aching arms.

Well, maybe music is not that harsh, but bass playing is! Those who play guitar are a bunch of wimps. They use a pick fir their perfect fingers, and their instrument is "small" and easy to carry. Instead, an electric bass is heavy and hard. The strings are so thick: blisters. Without mentioning it weighs like 1000 tons.

It also depends in the music and technique you are playing. For example, slapping the bass us so fun, but believe me, you need a strong arm to resist the whole song. Then, the popping which is equal yo more and more blisters. I usually continue playing, until my finger wears off. The other technique us the fingers which I like, but personally, it begins to get boring. Usually it is always the same rhythm, for example in rock. There is also the technique of using a pick. Personally, I think that it is for idiots. A real bass player should be in total connection with the instrument which means, blood and tears.

I'm just messing around, but the characteristic of a bass is the fingers. If they use a pick, it is like playing another guitar.

I love how Flea ( bass player of the Red Hot Chili Peppers) plays. He is so original, not mentioning that he us crazy. I still cant get how a man of forty seven years old is able to d0 this great performance. As he uses the different techniques of slapping and then changing it to fingers is incredible. The song Cant Stop is a great example, mentioning it is such a great and cool song to play.

I Had No Other Choice

There is nothing much to do now. Right now, it is me, writing in my blog during the PDR class. Since we do just like half an hour of class, the next fifty minutes is me, staring blankly at the ceiling. So I figured, why not writing on my blog? At least a post woul do just fine for the entire weekend.

As I continue writing of absolute nothing with no idea of what else to say, I erase it all and start again. Then, I realize that I still dont have any topic or anything interesting to talk about. Now I see that what I am writing is completly stupid, so I should start erasing it again.

But no, I already have a lot written, and right now I am too lazy to start a new one. I think I should post this one, and wish no one will read this stupid post.

As My Concience Says

Polo is a very dangerous and extreme sport. Seriously, you go like 100km/h at the horse's full speed, behind a significant ball. As I feel the wind rushing through my ears, and the horse's power, I go fully concentrated on taking the opponent from the ball, or at least hitting the ball. As I go in full speed, my inner conscience, the little voice inside my head that says "Wait!, don't do it!" or the " Are you insane?". Fortunately, that little voice is conceit in my head, but there are some people who just killed it, or shut it away. I think they are crazy! They are all beasts, running around with anything else in mind, not even the teammates around, or the horse. They just knock the opponent out and hit the ball in any direction as hard as they can. It is not cool when that direction is heading towards you.

Anyways, many may think it is very dangerous in the field. The problem is, they haven't realized they are the danger, or at least they have been stuck ed playing with a bunch of idiots who don't know how to play. I am the great example.

Since my sisters and I are a bunch of girls, supposedly, men should not be to harsh. That is the very wrong part. I still don't know if they are afraid of loosing, or are they just a bunch of idiots? Anyways, they charge at you as hard as they can, and they even hit you with the polo stick! I am like " Come on dude! It's just a practice!" But they just take it too seriously.

What is even more dangerous than men at playing, are the women themselves. The issue here is that they don't know how to play, and myxh worse, their little voice had died a long time ago. Skipping the fact that they are really harsh and angry, some are treated like queens. All the guys stand there, watching how the idiot takes the ball, and no one dares to go after her, or else who knows what they will do next. What I hate most is that guys just hit us with no mercy. I still don't understand why. I am just an innocent fifteen year old against big and old guys. The worse part is, they laugh while they are sticking their knee against mine, and with all their strength, they start moving it in a very painful way. Those idiots!

Ending with a Black Eye

This happened some time ago. As one of my greatest experiences while doing a sport, there is always a fall. Winter vacations were almost over, since we don't have seasons, it is kind of weird saying it. Even so, we went to our vacation house, or apartment in other words. It is in a club named El Peñon. It is the place we had always been since I was fifteen days of being born.

In El Peñon, there is such cool stuff to do. Since it is located in semi-tropical climate, it is really hot. (Extremely hot!). It is like a hell hole since it is between two mountains. There is no wind, but there is a very concentrated sun with the mission of frying us all.

Anyways, it is were we usually spend our vacation. It is the perfect place to ride in golf carts for hours and still, not getting bored. At least, there is even more to do, specially with my father's extreme spirit. We go out to skate, but it is a ride to all of the club, and sure it is big. Back toward my father's spirit if adventure, the trip is way more longer and way harder. The trip starts at least at 12:00m, the hottest and hardest time if the day, were the sun penetrates your skin and meanwhile, dehydrates your brain making you insane. Or, there is also the ride of 7:00pm, were all the drunk teens are ready to rock on (again) and the people who are getting out of church. I also missed the fact that it is dark, and I, being short sighted, can't see anything. As we try to pass through the cars and the idiots who would start whistling, we had made it alive, most of the time.

My great story starts on the 12:00m trip. We started our skating. It all went pretty well, even though my legs couldn't bear it much longer since the ride had still a long way to go. I had realized that the streets were kind of worn out, since there were many house constructions, and there were lots of rocks.
Note: rocks are deadly if you are skating.

So there was I, at 100km/h in my great skates which sadly were now too short. As the sweat dripped through my forhead, my legs burning in agony, and my head about to explode. I was going so fast when suddenly, OH SHOOT!, and I fell flat against the hard floor. I just felt how my cheek crashed against the hot pavement, and how my shoulder had stopped the fall. I stood up as fast as I could. Ignoring the pain in my head and my shoulder, I went as fast as I could to my father in the golf cart. He may have a spirit of adventure, but he also has conscience of our safety.

We went back home to clean the wound. My cheekbone began to swell, I even thought it was broken since it ached like hell. As I got all washed up, I had to burn my face with ice so I wouldn't have a cold sore in my eye. Unfortunately, I ended up as if I had gotten in a fight and ended up with a black eye. Too bad school was about to begin, and my whole body and face scraped, could be something to talk about.

Airplane Nightmare

There is nothing more fun than going on trips. Getting to go out of the country and the experience of riding an airplane.

Airplane rides couldn't be much more fun, but thirteen hours! It's just too much! I always loved getting on the plane. It is cold and magical inside, with lots of seats, and the first class passage.
Instead, we get to go to the end of the plane, to the economy (or chicken class as I call it).

So, it is always me, beside my twin sister in very uncomfortable seats just beside the bathroom. I wonder why my parents never get us good seats when we travel alone. After dinner, you meet everyone who wants to go attend the call of nature, maybe you can even make friends while they are waiting. I always get the worst seat, it is me who always gets hit by the food kart each time it passes. As we take off , everything is fine, setting aside the excruciating hours to go. As time passes by, I usually try to finish a book, or watch a movie. There are really good ones that are worth watching, or we also have the chance of a thirteen hours only with movies like Dragon-Ball Evolution or Cat Ate My Homework. Just as Pathetic as they sound.

Anyways, my experience in planes traveling with my sister I are not bad. My great experiences in planes are with other people. Our trip from Paris to Japan marked my life forever.

We got on the plane after a half and hour connection and a ten hour flight from Bogota to Charles de Gaulle. We got in our Chicken Class seats, but the surprise was, there were three seats. Obviously, my sister got the window, and well, I had the center. I still wished I could have the aisle. So, I prayed and prayed to not make the guy next to me be French (it's not to be stereotypical, but I've had personal experiences with French guys). Please, let him be anything but french. I could imagine the whole flight with the horrible armpit smell in the recycled air. We waited, until our seat companion came. He threw the passport to the seat.

" Italiano ", my sister whispered, " at least he is not French". I was kind of relieved, maybe we could start talking about Italian cars, until he sat down.

I swear I would have fainted or something. No, wait, how could I faint? The smell had me all shocked up!It was terrible! It was a combination of smelly armpit solution mixed with bad breath. And I had him just beside me, killing me with his smell of Italian. I kept saying, " don't worry, in no time, you will get used to it". Five hours and I kept repeating it over and over. Meanwhile, my sister, who doesn't have any sense of smell, was okay on the window taking notes on the view. She kept nudging me on how amazing the Russian ice caps were, but I was too busy to care about ice caps at the moment, with the big smelly guy on my shoulder.

He yawned, and I was about to puke, so I got my pillow and tried to breath through it. I wished the the plane ladies would spray something on the plane for the foul smell, maybe a whole bottle of spray on the guy. I didn't have any interest in talking, I would never stand his breath at my direction. I wouldn't be able to got through a thirteen hour flight with that guy, but what could I do? I was an underage without parents travelling alone with three more underage sisters in a plane alone.

All I could do was to resist, at least the temptation of vomiting. They served dinner, and for my pleasure, wine. More and more weird smells. I couldn't stand it. At night, I even had to get as far as I could, but the guy was so huge he almost overed my seat. Why, did I have to be in the center.

I never felt as much happiness when we got off. Fresh air! I continued saying, beautiful, fresh and clean air! And I still can't take the horrible smell off my mind.

After this experience, the adventures continued. As we went home back from Japan, to my surprise, I had the center again, and a French guy next to me, and my sister, in the window. At least he didn't smell, but sure did he like taking space. It was me, the whole trip, squashed.

Another of my great flights was back from Abu-Dhabi to New York. I had a cold, and I was in the aisle. As I was almost about to die, and thinking of the recycled air in the plane, and the rest of the people who would be breathing my germs, I just wished we'd get there already! We had taken a five hour land trip form Jaipur to New Delhi, then a plane from New Delhi to Abu- Dahbi, and from Abu-Dhabi to New York. It was not over, then we would have to take another airplane form New York to Bogota. We would arrive at the morning, and my father had his crazy idea that should still go to school that day.

Anyways, we had the honor of riding Etihad, the best airline in the world, and I had to have the damn baby at my side. The air plane was empty, and still, that damn baby. He would cry, cry and cry, and I, suffered and suffered. I wanted to kill that little boy, or at least just shut him up. Obviously, I wouldn't kill the baby, but who could stop me if I wanted to?

As the airplane waiter came with a bag of food, I got jelly beans, when suddenly, the baby! He was up walking next to me, with his round eyes, and his giant cheeks, walking towards my jelly beans as the little demonic creature he was. I kept trying to hide them, but his goal was to get them. I was scared, since he could start crying for the candy, and I couldn't tell how his angry Arab mother would react. For once, it didn't go wrong, and the little baby was taken back to his seat, right next to me.

Highway to Hell

Like if the picture of the bus could be so happy. The little kids eager to go to school and the bus driver eager to take them. They are all so happy, no matter how squashed they look. They don't even care if the bus is about to tumble.

My bus picks me up at 6:20 in the bus stop. Forgetting the fact that I have to go to school, until now everything is fine. As I get on half asleep, the most important thing is to find a good seat near the window. If I'm lucky, I can sit alone, if not, then, there is the big guy who will fall asleep on top of me. It has happened several times, it is not fun. I just put my head phones and trying not to think of anything else.

Today, well today was a very special day! I'd never had such an experience. As I got on the bus, behind all my neighbors, I realized that I had to sit beside someone since I was the last to get on. I had two options, sit beside the guy whose reaction if I sit beside him wouldn't know, or with a girl that was almost at the front. I chose to go safe since I imagined my experience with that evil guy.

Me: Sorry, may I sit here?

Evil Guy: Cant you see there are more seats around?

Only that sentence could feel like a punch in the face. So I decided to sit beside the girl. For the moment, the ride was as normal as always, I would always hear the same music. When it was almost half the route, a very awkward thing happened. I realized, the bus lady was heading towards the first aid kit. My question: What could have happened?

She started taking plastic bags out and some wet wipes. I was about three seats away from the action.

My first thought was, " Oh, a little kid must have spilled his juice in his bag, nothing to worry about". I continued watching, and the bus lady would continue getting more and more wipes and bags. Then, I got really worried since the bus lady started opening the windows. It took me some time, I realized it. A stupid little kid had just puked in the bus!

No, no, why, why! Since I had my ear phones on, I couldn't hear anything, and I was glad to. Even so, I would put the maximum volume, almost exploding my ears just to not hear the disgusting sounds of vomiting. I continued thinking, why didn't I sit beside the evil guy, why? It was sign, I should have taken the seat next to him! I tried to ignore the smell, but it is impossible. I didn't want to puke myself too, so I had to stop breathing. Most of the people just say, why don't you breath through your mouth? Well, it was disgusting!

As we finally arrived, my lungs burning in agony, I tried to get off the damn bus. I saw the little culprit, who was not little at all. It was like a boy in sixth grade. Damn you! He was there with his bag. It smelled horrible. Unfortunately, there was a bag in the middle, and taking off the bus was complicated. The boy standing there as if nothing had happened, and the puked floor, and the horrible smell. As I finally got off, I couldn't be happier to arrive to school.

The last little kid puking experience had been so long ago, I had forgotten how horrible it was.

Note: Parents, never give scrambled eggs to kids who get dizzy so easily. It is not cool!

Note: Why do they have to use transparent plastic bags to clean the vomit? When they take the bag, we can see all the breakfast in it! Its just disgusting!

Suicide Driving

Driving could be a great experience, specially since many think that they have more liberty. The idea of having their own car and going out when ever they want is like, so fun! Like if that would happen. I still dont understand what is the rush to get the license and go wild on the streets. I could understand that in streets everywhere but here, it could be fun. Here in Bogota, GOD NO!

Skipping the fact that streets are like they had been attacked by meteroites, the people are just idiots! Driving is the most boring thing. You are always in traffic jam, and the stupid people who ride a Twingo, who think they are in a Ferrari, the extremely decorated horrible Sprint, and the angry lady in the SUV. There is nothing worse than an angry lady. The suicide taxis, the mean buses, the stupid student int the Twingo, there is nothing worse. No one knows how to drive, and even so, they do have a license.

If there would only be interesting cars and streets, driving would be a good experience.The highways in Germany, a lane for 300 km/h were ferraris, Lamborghinis, Masseratis, could pass nearby. My dream Highway. I could even imagine the Pope in a Ferrari. In the rear end of the car with a fish which inside say Jesus, or the Virgin Mary in a Rosary. Even so, I am stuck here, with these beasts on the streets, trying to survive.

I Cant Even Express My Anger Very Well

There is no such things as Pop Music. I still don't get why they are all the same! One day I will just explode them into little pieces.

Pop music is short for Popular music, and indeed it is popular. They repeat them and repeat them until it is stucked in our heads and we go crazy. That is what usually radios do. They burns and burn the songs until it is stucked in our heads, and suddenly, people just love them! Everyone, everywhere singing those damned songs! They don't even make sense!

What I most hate about Pop music are: The lyrics and the videos.

About 90% of the lyrics are all the same. They all have the same meaning and even the same frases, they just mix the words in a different order. It is always about love, or the day he left. Some of them just have the meanings of going to a party, the cool party were she/he met a boy/girl and both ended up happily ever after. Pathetic. if these kinds of things are the ones that attract the audience, the audience is pretty weird. Who would care to listen all the time to the same things? Or relate to the song because they get the hopes of sometime being able to also become a pop star? The world is not like that!

The videos? They don't even deserve to be videos. Just as the lyrics, they are all the same. Usually, if it is a girl song, there is always the singer behind with the band looking at us with her eyes of sorrow. They always start touching their hair, and make a glance to the camera. Then, they appear with their boyfriend or lover in a very strange scene of ?¨I love you, but I cant have you¨or in a party with thousands of guys. If the song is not so sentimental, it must have a dance in which everyone will try to do next.

If the singer is a guy it will always be at a party or at a racing track. There must be very cool and expensive cars. There must always be women around with very short skirts, and the guy must be all around them. Or, it could be the gay video in which they glance up at the camera and in the darkness, they make a face of sorrow.

What I still don't get is, most of the singers, don't sing well. Seriously, which singer is able to sound like in the studio or been better? No one! They are all terrible, they are a fiasco! They just need to know how to lip sing very well, and being able to put tons and tons of make up, because they must all be pretty. Singers must always have the latest clothes, and most fans. Well, in the end it is the music business.

The Best Day of My Life

This day was such a special day. it was so funny though, but who could imagine it would be so great!



As I woke up a Tuesday morning, ready to go to school. I was about to kill someone since

1. There was school!!


2. I was still sleepy like every single school day.


3. It was a Tuesday for crying out loud


4. I had my worse classes that day

As I sleepwalked all the way to the shower, I realized it was still dark. Oh Joy. As soon as I turned the water on, I suddenly woke up. Just as I had finished, my father came in saying, school is cancelled. What? I didnt even understand. I thought that it was like Move on that the school bus has arrived for an hour. The, my sister came in rushing, and suddenly I understood. SCHOOL WAS CANCELLED! You cant imagine the happiness. It was incredibly unveilevable. We even thought it was a prank. Too bad I had already washed my hair, but who cares. There was no school that day. I love you riot people.

I tried to get asleep, but my wet hair wouldnt let me. Even how, I woke up at 7:30 ( and I still didnt get why I couldnt sleep longer). So, the rest of the day was practically play Play Station 2, the Gran Turismo 3 game. It is like the best driving simlator ever. That afternoon, we went to see the PGA which was taking place in our club. It is one of the most important golf tournaments. That day, it was the begining of a day tournament called the PROAM. It is between a professional player with an amateur one. I stil cant imagine that Camilo Villegas was there. He is like the best golf player in Colombia and he plays agianst Tiger Woods. Even better, there was Juan Pablo Montoya! He is a car racer formely form Fromula 1 and currently in Nascar Racing. I find it very ironic that he went there to play golf.

After following Villegas through the golf course, some guys before him almost kill us about three times! Who said golf was a calm sport? Suddeny, everyone started screaming FORE! What could we do? Some people said run! Others would shout to stay still. In the end, the ball fell right were we were. Those bunch of amateurs! Who knew golf cold be so dangerous?

Even so, after wathcign more golf, we had our swimming trianing. After taining, we went to the party the sponsors were throwing. Our goal was to meet Juan Pablo Montoya. It started with the best comedian named Andres Lopez. Then, my sister realized that each time he would make fun of Nascar, the guy who was almsot infront of us would make the thumbs-up. It turned out to be it was Montoya!

What could we do, the guy was there! The guy which each Sunday morning at 7:00am, we would wathc him racing the Monaco Circuit. Now, the guy in which we watch Saturaday´s afternoons in the Daytona Raceway. He was there.

We didnt know what to do since they said he was mean, and some others that he flatteres himself so much. But, there are only 25 drivers in Formula 1 in the whole world, and in Nascar anout 60? He does hae something to show-off about.

Suddenly, form behind, someones approaches, and suddenly huggs me. I couldnt believe it! It was him! JUAN PABLO MONTOYA WAS HUGGING ME! I didnt know what to do! I didnt know what to say! I was so nervous and didnt even relize it was reality. I told him he was incredible and that we also race cars in the circuit in Tocancipa.

The party continued but it started to get kind of freaky since there were too many adults drunk, on a Tuesday night at 10:30 pm. We also had the horrible news that we had school the other day. It was impossible that we didnt have school for more than one day.

Sweet and Delicious Chocolate

There is something that has always killed me inside. It is addictive and may be bad for your health. It is not cigarettes or drugs, its chocolate. What an awful temptation that is. Every time you take a bite thousands of calories that you worked so hard are up again. The worse thing is, chocolate is never enough. Eat a small bite, and you will be dying for a full box.

How cant you get tempted with these?

Seriously, if that was my keyboard, I will be dying right now. (Skipping the fact that I would enter in a diabetic shock or fail my whole classes) It could be the great excuse of saying ¨Sorry my keyboard is broken¨or ¨My dog ate my keyboard¨.

Mmmmm, chocolate.