Gala Guiba

Gala Guiba

Here we go again

Entering the 3rd quarter of the game with high hopes and moderate expectations.


Corny CorneliaPosted by Gala Thu, October 13, 2016 20:14:18
I should probably clarify that I am not dying of non- reciprocated love here.
I am standing strong. focused, determined.

I basically took a gamble, I AM taking a gamble and the odds are not necessarily looking to my favor; will know fr sure in a few days.

You see, I just finished my 4th Buddhist Boot camp and I find myself hypersensitive to ANYTHING that might be a personal short coming, potential for growth and development. Whilst I always had a sneaking suspicion that in terms of romance I am the biggest coward who ever lived, I have now encountered an opportunity to prove to myself that I have grown and developed... don't want to spell the "L" word (not lesbian.. you all know where I stand with that particular issue) so the thing is: since not running away and staying put is a brand new territory for me, I am having a bit of difficulty discerning fact from fiction. I know what I feel and what I want HOWEVER I see what there is and actions -not my own, I am as clear and pushy as I have ever been- are not filling my heart with certainty.

Real or fake?
reality or delusion?
Growth or decline?
Fact or fiction?
ground of flight?

Faith: not for the faint at heart

Corny CorneliaPosted by Gala Wed, October 12, 2016 21:49:54

1. belief that is not based on proof
2. belief in God or in the doctrines or teachings of religion
3. A system of religious beliefs

There is a great difficulty to understand deeply religious people, their beliefs and faith... that is whole different blog but i do have trouble reconciling intelligence with faith, it seems that one cancels the other; it definitely sends common sense out the window, faith does.

A few days ago, as I was secretly belittling somebody speaking of god and how he (or she... ) would provide, fix, give, sort out, appear and make all things in that person's little world right, and then it hit me: faith, that blind believe without any logical backbone is not really limited to church goes and bible thumpers, it made me think of a particular personal situation I am going trough, in which all evidence indicates that what (who) I long for is not feasible; what I am told is not accurate; common sense is YELLING at the top of its voice: GO, LEAVE, RUUUUNNNN!!!!!

Intellectually I know it is not likely to happen, self preservation tells me not to believe; my patched up hearts begs me to move on; stomach in knots, throat dry, sleepless nights.

All warning flags and what do I choose? I choose to believe, to believe in the possibility of love.

And it is ridiculous.

I think this is a sample of non religious faith.
This is what people who believe dinosaurs roamed the earth as the same time as Attila the Hun must experience... if their intellect ever had a pulse.

I know, I know, I know, I KNOW it doesn't make sense, I know the situation is... dubious to say the least, stupid to state the obvious and yet, there is this little bit of me that chooses to believe that maybe, oh god! maybe it just might work out; perhaps all logic and experience is wrong: what he says is true, what he feels is real: what he wants is us.

Maybe, just... maybe.

And from that sliver of hope, hope that there is something greater than me, hope for love, hope for growth, hope for passion, hope for partnership,
Hope for laughter, hope for romance,
Hope for intimacy, hope for joy.
Hope for happiness.

From this hope, faith is born.

Goldilocks & the musical chairs

Corny CorneliaPosted by Gala Sun, September 27, 2015 19:34:28

It seems I am stuck on the one subject but the other day I was thinking about dating life in this day & age (more the age than the day) and came to the conclusion that dating when one is pushing 50 is not unlike playing musical chairs when we were little; One has To be on fast on the feet, take split second decisions and be a bit of a c*nt with the competition... An elbow here, a shove there, trip a friend, punch the neighbor.

Everything is fair game just to get your butt on that chair.

As the game (of life) progresses there are fewer and fewer chairs and one is getting more and more tired.

Being single and older is like being close to the end of the game; I realize that I passed up one chair for being too hard, the other was too soft; one broke on me and another one I broke. Too unstable, too frilly, too plain, too modern, too used, too unreliable, too far, too close, too short, too big, too small.

It's like a goldilocks plays musical chairs, she is an indecisive, impossible to please nosy little princess, it can't possibly end well for her.

Except that it does... Maybe it does... Hopefully it does...

She is currently sitting on what appears to be a (pre owned) Royal Throne found at a thrift store. "What a find!" She congratulates herself.

A short month into it and so far it seems comfy, warm and safe... Wonder if it has wood rot? faulty springs? A broken leg?

Time will tell.

Could it be

Random nonsensePosted by Gala Sat, August 29, 2015 19:27:10
That the best dating years are behind me? Could it be that amongst the string of men who have decked my halls was "the one"? .... Naaaaah Refuse to believe that. Monothemaric. More later

Catching up

Random nonsensePosted by Gala Mon, August 17, 2015 16:07:59
A full year of catching up, catching my breath. Wonderful, exciting, nerve wrecking year filled with a bit of everything! Mostly visits to Lowe's really. I remodeled my shoebox town house and now it is a sassy shoebox townhouse; many, many pictures shall follow.

Had a serious boyfriend who lasted less than 1 season and although I can't help but feel I wasted a good man I had to run; the depth of feeling -now I realize- was about a tenth of an inch; considering I was "his everything" you would think he must be quite devastated at losing... Well, everything! Apparently not. So that was that.

Business is going well! Happy with that! Can not imagine what it will be like when I actually apply myself!!

Soooo many thing to be said about children, this is one scary generation in many levels. More on this.

Good god this is one boring post! just wanted to get into the swing of blogging again. Considering only I know the existence of this site I suppose as long as I am pleased then it's a win.

Oh! Went to the monastery for a 3rd time an received 2015 on the stone bed, listening to the party from afar.

Happy in Charleston

Corny CorneliaPosted by Gala Thu, September 25, 2014 17:10:36
September 2014
Charleston, South Carolina, US of A.

The ship has landed and none other than in the middle of the very tight, right winged, gun loving, bible thumping, white, white WHITE Bible Belt.

One would think I do not fit in but to my surprise I have managed to wedge myself in and create a wonderful network of friends; not only that but for the first time in my life, a true sense of community and I LOVE it.

Read back on my Asia backpacking blogs, specially the note on my restoration of faith in Men, and what I thought would be the end of the "Wishy Washy Cowardly Men Era"... not quite, not quite.
Unfortunately my "wuss-dar" directed me to yet a couple more weaklings, however experience has taught me to detect them before is too late, so all is good on that front.

That Front...

THE Front...

The Man Front (please note i use singular... hell most be freezing over)

I am excited on that front, actually, but I don't want to jinx it or get ahead of myself... I am undeniably, undoubtedly, shamelessly, excited. Shall see if Zurich is as wonderful a place as it appears to be; perhaps I get an honorary visa and reside there for a while. Shall see.

SO many things to say about this southern experience!

Leaving mundane worries, this Brownie is Feeling Happy in Charleston.

old blog 10

2010 blogsPosted by Gala Tue, August 19, 2014 20:46:44
Blog Stats
D'oh!Posted by Gala
Wed, July 21, 2010 05:41:57

Every now and then I check the statistics in my blog: how many visits, amount of mac users, search engines, for no other reason than to see what my hosting service has to offer and... yes, it is always nice to know that somebody might read me.

I have no way of knowing who it is exactly, of course and I know that many of those visits might be search referrals of random words which appear in mu blog "Vietnam" "Hanoi" "chocolate" and other popular hits out there; I am sure using the word s*x got me several dubious visitors who surely left terribly disappointed.

One thing surprised me though, and that is the search by country. I do see countries like Mexico, Germany, USA and Spain being there as I have good friends and family scattered, but others are just... weird!

Denmark has the highest number of people... DENMARK! I know but 1 person there and I am pretty darned sure he has NOT visited my blog 64 times in july (and 79 in June), specially considering we have not met since 2006...
Isle of Man?? Syria?? Afghanistan??? ok, those might be shots lost in Google, but 30 people form China???

Have you ever wondered who might be looking at your blog, Facebook, Linked-in, etc?

Got a spooky Big Brother's watching feeling...

In a twisted way it's kinda cool, though.

Danish visitors: MANIFEST THY-SELVES, please!

20 of 20 from Countries
# Hits % Visits Country
1 98 23.67 64 Denmark
2 91 21.98 67 United States
3 51 12.32 19 Thailand
4 38 9.18 18 Germany
5 34 8.21 30 China
6 32 7.73 4 Unresolved
7 22 5.31 12 Spain
8 9 2.17 3 France
9 8 1.93 4 Mexico
10 8 1.93 3 Great Britain (UK)
11 8 1.93 3 Viet Nam
12 4 0.97 2 Isle of Man
13 2 0.48 1 Greece
14 2 0.48 1 Iran
15 2 0.48 1 Malaysia
16 1 0.24 1 Russian Federation
17 1 0.24 1 Syria
18 1 0.24 1 Australia
19 1 0.24 1 Ukraine
20 1 0.24 1 Afghanistan

7 Social Sins
Mushy Stuff / Mariconadas
Posted by Gala Thu, July 15, 2010 10:03:50

Politics without principles.
Pleasure without conscience.
Wealth without work.
Knowledge without character.
Commerce without morality.
Science without Humanity.
Worship without sacrifice.

Mahatma Ghandi

D'oh!Posted by Gala
Tue, July 13, 2010 03:13:03

I don’t really buy magazines, they take up too much space and they are heavy, so I get all my glossy/gossip reading from waiting rooms and mani-pedicure mini SPA’s, so depending on the place, I could be reading 7 year old magazines, but hey! It is still news to me! the only problem is that I am not up to date at all on… anything really! Celebrities marry and divorce at such rampant speed it is hard to keep track are Brangelina together or not? Is Amy W bingeing or rehabbing? Is Justin Beaver a boy or a girl and IS IT true that Mickey Rourke is hot again??? Wait, what?!!
I n terms of women’s magazines, I haven’t quite found the publication for me, there the Cosmo types which seem to be switching target audience to younger (and younger still) audiences of ambitious, bitchy, men-hunting girls with shopping addictions, which is all fine, it just isn’t me, my time for those has passed like 21 year and 37 kilos ago, not to mention 12 less –than-Cosmo-Girl jobs and a fair share of not-so-hot-men.
Then you have the “middle aged” female audience and gawd! Those mags are just depressing me! Granted that age wise that would be me, but I really do not need yet another meatloaf recipe, how to make my own ornaments or “6 Sexy Secrets to Surprise your Middle-aged, pot-bellied Husband of 15 years –of marriage- ; which include, and brace yourself for ultimate kinkiness, Woman on Top. Nope, aprons and family reunions with crispy “crispy fried cotton fish with green mango salad, palm sugar and fish sauce dressing” and lubricant recommendations are not my thing either.
I like to travel, see the word, but unfortunately Travel Magazines are way out of my league; as exciting as it sounds, I will not drive a 4 by 4, local bus circa 1952 original ford, and ox pulled cart, a camel followed by a donkey and finally walk 152 miles at 3 am to get me to the mountain top of that tiny village lost to civilization In the remotes southwest tip of Bukiliwinitsk to witness the most amazing sunrise; nor will I dish out 90,000 dollars a night to be pampered in Brunei’s most exclusive resort, with bunny milk luscious baths and mother of pearl obtained from the sacred waters of the Burmese sea caves nail polish pedicure treatment… err… no thanks.
Too political, too economical, too serious, too technical, too specific, too stupid, too boring.

None for me, thanks.

Men's Magazines
D'oh!Posted by Gala
Tue, July 13, 2010 03:05:19

Following the previous post, I have found that Men’s magazines are the best source of information and entertainment, and I am not talking about –only- naughty magazines at all, I am talking about health & lifestyle publications, gossipy (bearing in mind that according to men they don’t gossip.. they share information… yeah, right!) they are SO cool! I totally love them.
Take for instance the diet articles, unlike those destined to women, they stem from the fact that humans need to eat and humans get hungry, so they are realistic, portions are generous and any recipe will be given assuming men don’t have the faintest idea on how to cook, so they are REALLY easy
And delicious; not “25grs of non fat, cholesterol free, low sodium cottage cheese and a leaf of lettuce dinner” crap you find in those girly ones.
The articles tend to be short and to the point, I pin this down the manly memory span not unlike that of a goldfish, so one does not read paragraphs and paragraphs before getting to the point. Wham! Bam! Thank you Ma'm; gotta love it.
The advice… my goodness the advice is probably the most entertain part of it all, specially in the Q&A bits!
Q: What should I bring to a weekend rendez-vous with my hook up friend?. A: A big box of condoms and text her naughty messages the whole day before meeting, you don’t love her right? So the pressure is off, man! Enjoy it!
Q: Can Wii video games make me loose weight? A: if you choose tennis or football and really play like a pro is a good way to burn calories.
Q: How can I pick up cute girls at the beach? A: A six pack of Corona and a puppy dog, what?! Are you new at this?! If you don’t have a dog, start building a sand castle and watch all these babes come running to help.
Women magazines have all sorts of articles about “How to Top your Bitch Boss with her own Game” or “ Your boss: is she Jealous of your Tight Butt and Perky Boobs?” I am not sure where they get their information from really; being part of the work force I have never seen so many “she” bosses to be honest, -sadly most high positions are held by men- and 30 year old women are most certainly not OLD witches contrary to Cosmo’s beliefs; I have never seen anybody get a promotion based on the right shade of lipstick or nail a presentation thanks to Manolo’s peep toe shoes… So yeah.
The girls featured in advertisements, illustrations or pictorials are barely over 20 –the old ones- white, blond, straight hair, twig like skinny, no boobs or MASSIVE balloon like ones, perfect airbrushed skin, skimpy clad perched on impossible high heels and a nasty attitude… there is NOTHING further away from my reality!
Why on earth would I want to see hundreds of these girls in publication when I can grab me a Men’s Health mag and look at beautifully muscled up guys, many in their 40’s or 50’s (not to mention those sinful 30’s), perfectly tanned and toned with bright big smiles and healthy looking lifestyles?
Let me see… should I choose a glossy with starved looking 20 year olds who look oh so very angry (I think it’s cause they are hungry), all dressed up in a $10k dress, balancing for dear life in ridiculous poses over suicidal 12inch stilettos or should I go for this other magazine, with a sinfully handsome 45 year old guy who is happily drying off is six-pack abs from a swim in his amazing boat, getting ready to dig into the best display of yummylicious of food EVER... yeah, that’s one, the man with the perfectly inviting smile and dripping wet, messy hair?...
What can I say?

Babies no more
Mushy Stuff / Mariconadas
Posted by Gala Tue, July 06, 2010 23:41:36

Kids grow up just way too fast.
I have a friend who has teenage kids and they live with their father; do know that these are NOT my own children… you see, it would be a gross infringement on their privacy If I wrote about them; however, being this an unrelated story from A Friend, then I can freely post it here as there are no names named (my Friend is gorgeous, by the way… extremely smart to and with a Fabulous butt).
So her kids are now 16, good looking –despite the long shabby hair of one of them- excellent students, responsible, healthy, keeping away –gott sei danke- from booze, tobacco and drugs and keeping close to girls, which is quite normal for kids their age. Their Mom and Father have always had a very open relationship with them and feel there should be no “taboo” subjects as it is much preferable that kids have they questions answered by the dinner table than in a back alley with a girlie magazine and it is better for parents to know to an extent what kids are up to: living in oblivion is just too risky now a days.

So my friend is somewhat cool about it, seeing how hormones were raging and how popular her kids seemed to be with girls and how incredibly slutty these girls were, she took the precaution of going with them to buy condoms, thus making sure they were prepared when the time came and the Boys had no embarrassment about going to the drugstore or making the easy mistake of buying the novelty prophylactics which are just not going endure a battle, regardless of the “glow in the dark” powers they might have. They boys were OK with this, specially since she was paying.
Kids grow up, it is all normal, part of life and nature, blah, blah, blah, but there is a MASSIVE difference between preparing “just in case” and knowing for a FACT that the purchase has been duly utilized… and they need more.
As it turns out, the Father is quite an open minded (when it suits) European man who feels perfectly comfortable with the kids spending the night, several nights… seemingly EVERY freaking weekend night at a girl’s place –she lives alone. Now, it is quite clear that the children live with him at the moment because he is the best parental option through their teenage years and their Mom tends to treat them like babies, no argument there, but… geez!
The mom NEEDS somebody to blame!
I am not sure why my friend is silently freaking out about this one… she is not a narrow minded person at all! she could in fact be described as quite liberal and understanding; she remembers all too well when she was that age, but it just seems different when it pertains to her kids…her Babies!
Those skanks! Those little hussies! Young whores in the making taking advantage of her sweet little angels!
Perhaps she feels disturbed because now she knows that what ever she is doing they are doing? (God, please NO!) it just seems… wrong that she is not seeing any… err..” action” at all and that the one thing that she knew exactly what she was talking about now is common knowledge?! She sees them sitting there and she KNOWS what they do… no mystery at all… they are no longer her little boys, her “Hijitos”, they are… well… men, I suppose, like all the rest of the men… which is kind of sad.
Seeing it from a more selfish AND disturbing point of view, perhaps she is freaking also because this means that there is an actual possibility that she will be a grandmother before her time?? I don’t quite think so as she doesn’t care at all about her age, but you never know…

Le Toilette
D'oh!Posted by Gala
Sun, July 04, 2010 04:36:52

One of the sensitive issues –for me- whilst travelling are the bathrooms specially being used to the “western” flushable ceramic bowls and luscious toilet paper. I had encountered before those “squatting” toilets but avoided them at all costs... until I got to Asia.
Picture this:
You are carrying a 14k back pack, a long scarf to cover all your naughty parts –such as neck and shoulders- a smaller bag crossed over in front of you for easy access containing your laptop, passport, wallet and all valuables so you REALLY o not want to let go of it or for it to get wet in any way. Chances are you have a big bottle of water in your right hand and travel guide on your left; sun glasses over your head. You are wearing loose pants and, most importantly, you are a girl, so what ever you need to do must be done squatting, not standing.
Imagine if you will, a much reduced space about the size of a low cost Arline washroom but with the sturdiness of a cereal box. In Muslim countries you can expect the floors to be somewhat flooded as it is customary to wash with a small hand shower which is normally hanging on the right of the toilet, if it is not a Muslim country you can expect the floor to be somewhat flooded anyway. I do not recommend the use of the shower head thing as it rarely hits the spot you are aiming for and you are likely to get tour back soaking wet.
There is no toilet paper and the latch of the door tends to be broken most of the times. There is no place available (dry or clean) to leave your stuff and you cannot leave it outside as there is a big possibility you will not see your bag ever again and in any case it would be so much work to try and ask somebody to please watch over your things that by the time you are done you have missed your spot on the line, so you go into the little stall “fully equipped” and tissues at hand.
OBJECTIVE: Nothing, I repeat NOTHING is to touch the floor.
You adjust the guide book in your front bag, the bottle of water under your left armpit (this is important), the toilet paper hanging from your teeth; tie your scarf several times around your neck so it doesn’t touch the floor; attach the sunglasses somewhere with the scarf; if you are wearing a raincoat/poncho over your backpack you can put it over your head, it means that you will be covered like one from the Ku-Kux Klan and have null visibility unless you fix it behind your ears, like a nun's veil.
Roll the legs of your pants up to your knees so they don’t get wet as you pull them down but when you do, make sure your legs are parted wide enough so the trousers do not fall on the floor, but not so much that you overstretch your undies 3 sizes up.
After having made the shoulder strap shorter tuck your front bag under your LEFT armpit, exactly under the big bottle of water; if you leave it dangling in front of you there is a risk that it may swing back between your legs in the most inconvenient of moments…
At this point you should still have your right arm free, so you step over the hole on the floor (remember to keep those knees wide apart so the pants don fall on the yucky stuff!) try to find your balance without touching anything –if you MUST, use the free hand for a second to get a steady position- squat, aim as best you can and with your free hand hold the door closed as people normally just push it open; you must go as low as you possibly can, otherwise it all splatters around your legs and sandals as it is more a not-so-deep-basin rather than an orifice on the ground.
When finished, be really fast at taking the tissue from your teeth and doing all things necessary as the door is now unguarded and people on the other side are surely impatient by now and might swing the door open, you are very vulnerable at this moment! If you have bad knees, brace yourself for getting up is quite a challenge: those 14k are going to pull you back as you stand up and you have no hand to aid you! The right is holding water and valuables, the left is frantically pulling the pants –and underpants- up, which is not easy at all with only one hand; the ground is slippery so your legs need to be as far apart as possible to keep your balance, so you will need to stand up by the strength of your abs and quadriceps alone.
Once you are outside, wash your hands with the dirtier than mud soap you might find –if you are really lucky-; I advise against using that gray towel for, if you look closely, you will realize it used to be white. This is a great time to readjust all your clothes as there is a good chance you have half of your underwear sticking out and probably you are suffering from a brutal self inflicted wedgie. Promise yourself you will never drink a drop of water again, unless you are in your hotel room.
Last Toilet Tip?
Do NOT, under ANY circumstances, regardless of the urgency, go into the toilet right after anybody who might be gesticulating as if they are about to deliver triplets whilst rubbing her huge (non pregnant, just fat) belly and doing a funny “dance”.
No matter how badly you may need to use it, it is just not worth it, change queue and wait for the next available stall... trust me on this one...

Ok, so how much...

D'oh!Posted by Gala Wed, June 16, 2010 05:24:35

Bargaining: the national sport in every Asian country… and I suck at it.
There is a skill –if not a gene- required to be a successful Bargain Master, as I travel it has become obvious that I absolutely lack it; I have gotten better in some things, though: tuk-tuk drivers in Bangkok now fear me, but for all the rest? Rubbish! Absolute rubbish!
I understand that people need to make a living and the fluctuating tourism industry can be a bit of a bitch, I am sensitive to the fact that I am in a privileged position always and more so compared to the working class in these parts of the world; I agree that I should pay higher rates than locals when it comes to entertainment such as museums, sites, landmarks, theatres, etc. after all, it is their country and they should have feasible access to their own culture.
I don’t mind if things are more expensive for me as a traveller, not at all! At the end of it I have the choice to either take it or leave it; what drives me absolutely mad is been (being?) taken for a fool, seriousy anger me! And bargaining certainly lends itself to abuse.
There has to be some common sense to it! I know it is a different mentality and all, but COME ON PLEOPLE!!! You can’t possibly expect to pay off the mortgage from that single cab ride with the Swedish tourist! Have some morals for goodness sake!
I am sure there are some International Unwritten Haggle Rules or Code of Hustling Ethics, SOMETHING!!! Even Pirates had a code of honour! Well, if there is one it and certainly has not gotten to Asia.
It is sensible to hike up a price, don’t know… 50% maybe? Vendor offers 20, costumer 10, both agree on 15. I think this is pretty reasonable.
What is NOT reasonable is to pimp it up to 500% for crying out loud!!!
Went to buy some fruit at the local market; the faces of the vendors literally illuminate when they see me approaching their stalls and I can assure you it is not my shinny personality; they frantically wave and shout “Hello?! Hello?!? Want apple? Want mango? Come buy me, Mister!! (not a good start if they are already calling me butchy dike…) so I take a look at some bananas, safe enough fruit I don’t need to wash and requires n preparation other than peeling it;
I point at 3 teeny puny little bananas and the woman, clearing her throat and looking me dead in the eye says:
“15 thousand”
I stare back thinking “she HAS GOT to be kidding me”
“Excuse me?” I say, slightly squinting my eyes in what is the beginning of an evil look.
“15 thousand rupee” fruitlady repeats
I leave the bananas and just walk way, almost offended that she would think me that stupid, al the while she is calling me back “ok! Ok! How much you want to pay?!”
While I’m cursing away under my breath I see a taxi driver buying some fruit and paying 75cents for 1k of bananas. Unbelievable. He offers to drive me which feels like a great idea as I am fuming both from the Banana Incident and the unbearable humid heat; I am just not quite sure how far the hostal is:
“perhaps I can walk there?” I ask him; he points out that it is not far but it is so hot I should just jump into the cab.
“how much?” says I
“30,000” responds my driver
“Oh… that seems a bit much… is it that far away? better use the taximeter”
“No, not use meter! It will mark only 5,000”

Couldn’t believe it!
“so you want to charge me 25,000 more just like that?!”
He laughs
I shut the door and walk away all the while I hear him
“Ok! Ok! How much you want to pay Mister?!”

D'oh!Posted by Gala
Sun, June 06, 2010 07:43:30

Still trying to keep the vegetarian front strong, what a challenge this is in the Eastern world! oddly enough I thought that it would be a walk in the park to get veggies everywhere as in most countries meat is a pricey food than not everybody can afford, BIG FAT mistake that was, they sprinkle beef, chicken, pork, fish seafood on just about everything, including desserts.

I have accepted the fact that I am a weird eater... no pasta, potatoes or rice and I stay clear of fried stuff as much as possible, I keep it healthy and keep it fresh. In Asia they have 3 elements in their menu: animals, fried and rice/noodles; add to the mix the fact that I am unable to communicate and it is quite a circus.

I am ashamed to admit I do not learn any local words beyond "please" and " thank you"; I am -however- extremely fluent in sign language which can get me pretty much anything: from a size 9 silvery pair of sandals to a Brazilian bikini wax; I have learned that unfortunately this does not go so smoothly when it comes to food.

Starving! I stop at a place next to the guest house to have a much needed meal, I always favor markets and street stands... I like to live on the edge; so the Guy has all sorts of things on display: pig heads, ducks, teeny birds and chunks of brownish beef serving as a buffet bar to several dozens of flies. He also has those lovely baskets with Dim Sum (snacks, the local equivalent of Tapas or Garnachas).
I embark on my Mime language and point to some round shaped things asking what they were (by means of an upward nod and raising shoulders and hands, palms up) and the Guy breaks out into a lively monologue in –what I guessed was- Thai so I tell him I want to eat (cupping one hand and simulating chop stick-feeding motion with the other) and ask again, he obviously doesn't understand me when a BRILLIANT idea hits me; my guest house was literally 3 doors down, so I motion the international sign of "wait a second" (thumb and index finger a couple of inches apart) which unfortunately is often confused with the "you got a really small willy" sign

I run to the reception and ask the kid to write down in those Thai cute little symbols: "I am a vegetarian, please give me dinner with no meat, thank you"; he hands me the paper looking somewhat bewildered and I go back to my Guy; he looks the note and looks back at me with a blank look on his face and a pointy fork in his hand.
By now I am truly famished, so I say: "NO MEAT" a bit loudly...perhaps speaking in a very high pitched voice helps? but nada, so I start making noises and saying whilst I shake my head:

(shake head) NO Muuuuuuuu!
(shake head) NO Quack, Quack!
(shake head) NO Oink Oink!...this one came out pretty well, snorting noises n' all
(shake head) NO Cluck, cluck cluck!... at this point I was doing the chicken dance, walking in circles around his stall, knees bent and clucking with my hands tucked under my armpits.

The Guy just stands there looking at me like I had just grown a second head. I point to the paper so he reads again and looked up a bit frustrated/// at that moment I saw the the proverbial writing on the wall: ALL China-like decoration and symbols... this was a Cantonese restaurant and the he only spoke Chinese… not a word of Thai.

I took the little note from him, folded it neatly and put it in the back pocket of my jeans, held my head up saying ”Domo Arigato” (Japanese, I know, but it is the closest I have to China) and walked away to get me dinner at the 7/11 next door.

Don't worry, be happy
D'oh!Posted by Gala
Fri, June 04, 2010 13:48:31

Off to Indonesia tomorrow; all I have is a plane ticket and a bag packed full of lovely Asian style silky clothes.
No map, no hotel, no plan, no guide book; got some tips from friends and that's about all I need, the rest is to be found out as I go.

I'm at the top of the world right now, so very happy and things are looking wonderful from where I'm standing.

To the untrained eye I might appear as homeless, over 40, unemployed an so single I have become nuveaux spinster (been single so long that I actually am one, 15 years I believe it is all I need to get back into the club... 3 years to go!);

Aaah! but appearances can be deceiving! I am actually living a long cherished communal dream: that one where we all want to say a big fact FU*K you! to the world, flick the bird and leave it all behind, no remorse and go live in an exotic place and travel the world? ya know? that fantasy we all cherish at one point or another? well: that IS my life right now.

I am not unemployed: I simply don't have a boss
I am not single: I am free AND LOVED
I am not homeless: I have a home AND A FRIEND wherever I put by bag down
I am not over 40: I have just been born into adulthood

My intuition tells me I am in the right path and finishing a stage with a BOOM! and starting another with a BANG!; I am certain that the big wink lady Liberty gave me some months back will finally materialize and my new found friend will soon be making travels to Asia and write another chapter to our story.

This blog should not make sense to anybody... heck! makes no sense to me but I am am feeling so bloody good about myself right now, I just don't care.

On the road to recovery
Mushy Stuff / Mariconadas
Posted by Gala Sun, May 30, 2010 09:30:54


I met a really very nice fellow, German, actually... go figure! but he is also Pisces, so I guess that sort of redeems him...One of his many accomplishments (unbeknown to him) is having started the process of restoring my faith in men... NOT mankind but actual men.

I believe (now) that yes, there are still actual good guys out there who don't play games nor claim not to while they REALLY do (really, really!); guys who are polite, well mannered, chivalrous and Oh! SURPRISE!: straight.

I have learned that I can still find men 42years and older who have slim waist line, a full head of hair and a body that puts any any 20year old athlete to shame (and everything that goes with it... oh yes...).

I was reminded that going out is fun and not a competition, that I don't have to be at all times guarded so I am not caught by surprise when he makes his "move; great to know that not every guy want to get in a girls pants... not as a first or second -even third!- intention anyway.

Best thing? WONDERFUL not having to decide or take charge, lovely to meet with a Man with a Plan.

It was all so very nice and despite the fact that he is not the Guy for me, I am delighted for these couple of weeks I got to know him; I am in the road to recovery and at this very moment I can happily and OFFICIALLY declare that after 12 years:

The Horrid Reign of The Cowardly Undecided Men is finally over.

No more flaky dudes for this Browny! (Aha, you Boys know who you are...)

So bring 'em on! those Real Men with tight tushes!

Make a wish... geez!
D'oh!Posted by Gala
Sun, May 30, 2010 08:55:21

When I wished that my Ex-Husband Frank (AKA Horrible Dr. No) lived happily ever after in a far, FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR away land, i did not mean for him to take my Children along!

Geez! I need to be MUCH more specific when I tap into my magic powers...

Psyche Layers of S*x
Mushy Stuff / Mariconad
Posted by Gala Sat, May 29, 2010 01:30:09

This morning at breakfast there was a table with about 6 Japanese women; they must have been between 28-35, perhaps a bit younger, always so hard to tell with Asians and their wonderfully taken care of skin; in any case they were a lively bunch: loads of giggles ooohhhh!!!'s and aaaahhhh!!!'s, hiding behind the napkin shyly and cutesy poses... in short: the type of women I would like to -furiously- bitch slap around.
As they were leaving a couple of them were actually doing bunny hops and "Singing in the Rain" routines, looking up to the sky extended arms, going in big happy circles and all.... it was not raining.

They were all dressed in that seemingly careless way which leaves no detail unattended; hair messed up with a loose pony tail tilted to the side with a flowery hair band, handkerchief around the head, long beach dresses kinda unwillingly see thru (not sluttish, mind you) the lovely beaded sandal, a je ne sais quois tied around the hip; I am rubbish at describing, but they did look lovely in an allegoric Tim Burton meets Hello kitty sort of way.

Observing the girly -childish, really- behaviour, I could not help but think how intensely popular these type of ladies are with men, especially western men, gosh they DROOL around them! putty in their kiddie hands! Aahhhh!! And the girls know it, the know soooo well and the more one salivates the more baby like the other becomes.

I came up with a twisted theory about this... normally this girls are small in every way: somewhat short and tend to be flat chested, take away the frills and the gloss and they are quite androgynous looking... VERY difficult to tell men and women apart in the way one cannot differentiate a pretty little boy from a little girl except for the long hair and girlie clothes.... could it be that these women satisfy the paedophile buried deep in the psyche of -almost- every man?

Please do not misunderstand! I am dead against any sort of abuse on children, I think it is despicable and abusers should be castrated (and the female equivalent). I do find it a mental and social disease which must be punishable, persecuted, eradicated, yet one thing we cannot deny is that there is this primitive, animal dark side that we all have and are mostly are unaware of. We might suppress it, ignore it or simply be in utter ignorance of its existence, but it is there, ooohh it lives there, in all of us.

I believe that quite often our actions respond directly to that dark side; might catch us by surprise and we might not understand where certain reactions come from or it might manifest itself in more socially acceptable ways, such as going for girlie girls.

What ever the case may be, and as much attention and longing these woman/girl may generate, I would not like to be that way, I do think they are lovely! Pretty, feminine in a seriously ridiculous way; they know their stuff and use it to their advantage: they get tons of presents, money, trips and a nice parade of men running behind them carrying parcels; still I cannot be like that... disregarding the fact that I am double their size and most probably would scare the living s*it out of the guys who like girlie girls;

Except for their ability to accessorize, I am not jealous of them at all. There is something for everybody and I have my own public... oh yes! another niche in the twisted psyche: the straight men who dig "amazonic" women... which is polite for "she has balls the size of meteors and the manly body that goes with them"...

Some other time I might explore the lure of the boyish hips and six pack abs... Because yes Darling... I got a pack o' those...

D'oh!Posted by Gala
Fri, May 14, 2010 03:34:18

I did not have enough of Vietnam, need to go back and do Sapa, re-do Hanoi and back to Hue; it is such a shame I have absolutely no concept of time! I actually believed I could visit my 12 points of interest in 10 days... I guess this is my overwhelming female logic which also leads me to believe that my (yummylicious) butt fits in a S size.

WONDERFUL place Vietnam! all my preconceived notions -not that many, to be honest- have come crashing down, particularly those regarding the American war, known to me ALWAYS as the Vietnam war; being heavily influenced by the USA, their history, mentality and society, to me Vietnamese were just a faceless mass of people, and being the pacifist anti-imperialist I am, I always thought that US involvement in conflict was a horrible and senseless intervention but the thing is, it was the young American soldiers who perished there who were in my thoughts and to a lesser extend the Viet-cong casualties... my, oh my! was this trip an eye opener! I will not go into detail of the museums, Cu Chi tunnels (sin albur!), prisons, torture devices, jungle, diseases, the 3 million Vietnamese who died or the 56,000 American boys who never got to see their families again... no, I won't get into that because it affected me seriously and also because it is too darned boring, so I will just go on with my lighter hearted posts and ask the very profound question:

WHAT THE HECK IS UP WITH ASIAN MEN AND SPITTING?!! how can a tiny -teeny!- little man produce such copious amounts of mucous and the force to spit it -cannonball it is more accurate- MILES away?! It is not pleasant waking up to a phlegmatic symphony and YOU KNOW I am not talking about the emotionless disposition of the British when I say phlegmatic.. I am actually talking about disgusting phlegm.

The other amazing thing, specially in Saigon (now Ho Chi Min city) as every traveler will tell you is crossing the street... road signs are decorative, traffic regulations don't even amount to romanticized guidelines; one must be a true dare devil or city slicker to throw oneself onto the oncoming traffic, oh yes! scooters (6 million of ‘em in the city) do not stop even if their life depended on it... and sometimes it does!

The trick is to make eye contact with the driver, let him know that YOU are gonna walk through and you are ready to kill him and his first born if he doesn't let you go through, let him feel the rage and the hate and then just throw yourself at his vehicle, chest pumped forward .Do be sure you look both ways for those in a hurry who are riding on the wrong side of the road invading not the second, but 3rd and 4th lanes.

Another trick is to swing a bag like a traditional hooker: make BIG circles with it so it becomes some sort of weapon, bicycles, tuc-tucs & motorcycles respond really well to this technique. a word of advice: ensure your purse is zipped and you don't have loose objects on the side pockets if using a rucksack or you will find yourself running between cars to retrieve your items from the road...

Another personal favourite is the Matador style: think of 'em cars as bulls and you are in the middle of a Faena or better yet! the Pamplonada! one must show courage, strength and focus while running across, a little red handkerchief tied on your neck looks nice but not of the essence, I find that shouting OLE!!! every time I pass a car gives me confidence.

Lastly, those dance moves come in really handy! the swaying of the hips is ideal for avoiding lusty or pick-pocketing hands, as well as knocking over a cyclist, don't be afraid to moonwalk between cars on a red light and most certainly do the ballerina thing of putting your arms over your head while you tip toe and hop among vehicles, f anything, they might slow down a bit to take a better look at the crazed foreigner.
More unwanted advice coming your way soon.


Mushy Stuff / Mariconadas
Posted by Gala Tue, May 11, 2010 05:23:33

delusion |diˈloō zh ən|
an idiosyncratic belief or impression that is firmly maintained despite being contradicted by what is generally accepted as reality or rational argument, typically a symptom of mental disorder.

I just met up with a... friend. It is funny how we use the word so loosely... it seems that any relationship that we are uncertain about gets thrown it in the "friendship" bin be it somebody we know for 1 month or 10 years but never really keep in touch; one can sleep with somebody 30 times and be uncertain if we are friends and the truth of the matter is that if push comes to shove, that person would probably be the last one we would turn in case of need.

Luckily this day and age provides us with a full coloring palette of terms: just friends, guyfriend, galfriend, fuck friend, mate, homie, bonk fried, FWB (friend with benefits), bro, bff/ bmf (best female/male friend) and the list goes on.

Still, I'm unable to find the adequate term for this individual... in any case it was just such a horrible encounter in almost every way possible; man! what a disaster! I don't think anything at all went well... what I thought was a nice couple of hours turns out was awfully unpleasant for him as I came across as an abrasive bulldozer in the attempt of giving him a tour of the city.

Worst of all? I was completely delusional! I walked into this thinking I would meet again with this amazing "somebody" who has been occupying my thoughts for quite a while and what I found was this complete stranger who seriously had not the most remote interest in anything that had to do with me. Needless to say, to him it was equally disappointing to meet with a hysterical monster that I turned out to be, ah! but you see, I should consider myself lucky as i got some hugs so I would not feel bad, as I later was informed... pitiful affection, the nerve!!

My, my, my! how very unpleasant and confusing it all was! what a mass of contradictions and mixed signals! how badly I respond to uncertainty and contradictory messages! How can anything go SO wrong in absolutely every way?!?!?

The question that pesters me is: when we met last year and encountered pure and absolute magic, was it all fake then? did I imagine it all?! how can somebody be so incredibly different?! we are not talking a little I mean, this was to the level of "show me your passport and birthmarks cause I just do NOT believe you are the same person"; unfortunately my reactions are utterly disproportionate (I curse myself) and i started doubting everything and wanting to run away just to comeback again... it was like being stuck in an episode of "the Twilight zone" where everything appears normal but in reality nothing is what it seems... VERY unsettling!

I think I am just not cut for this romance thing; It makes me rethink my stand on arranged marriages: it is OBVIOUS I am just crap at choosing for myself, I don't think anybody else can do a worse job.

Totally bummed out.

D'oh!Posted by Gala
Thu, April 29, 2010 22:33:59

In Nam at the moment, sooooo many blog entries to write I will need to take a full weekend to do so.

The outstanding impression is the ability of people to drop a load off anywhere on the street and set up a business, be it shoe repair, mini restaurant (with hot broths, deep frying pans, fresh produce and dead ducks & little porks), hair dresses, clothes, bags, pedi-mani or nit picking central (se sacan piojos a veces, de veras!) after brushing off the nits, you are received with a smile -or not- and offered a 5 course meal... all on the sidewalk.

Live and learn!

Shopping in Asia
D'oh!Posted by Gala
Mon, April 19, 2010 11:29:32

Since I became a minimalist, homeless, backpacker and airlines have this totally ridiculous 20k policy, shopping is way down in my list of priorities, nonetheless at times there are things that I actually NEED to get; normally there is no problem finding anything in Asia, now finding something that fits? well... that is something else.

I got rid of 90% of my clothes and just kept what I needed, some of which is not precisely backpacker style but it seemed silly to buy stuff just to dress down, so I kept the very basic including underwear -of course- which I now realize there was nothing basic about it: laces, sheers, hearts, dots and all the styles you can imagine, but NOTHING fit to rough it in South East Asia... you CANNOT be sitting in a bus 16 hours wearing a frilled thong bikini.

So I go to a large store in Pnom Pheng, Cambodia to look for some Granny underwear.

I always knew Asian girls were small, I just was not aware I was so damned big! ALL bras had stuffing in them, I mean serious stuff! like a turkey in Easter time! these ladies are flat as boards! and if I thought my underwear was girlie the one I found made me think of whore houses circa 1920 or what German woman would wear during WWII, no middle way.

I finally find some sensible bottoms (gave up on the bras, when I told the girl my size she open her eyes so wide I was afraid they would pop out... so I have a broad back, so WHAT???) I took a disheartened look at them and then reminded myself of my vow of celibacy and they did not seem that bad, but they were "L" and looked rather big.
I come up to the scared looking sales clerk and point out to the width of the underpants and my hips and she shakes her head and says Ooohhh nooo, TOO big! I agree with her as those nickers looked like a tent and wait while she goes to the back office. Due to my boyish hips in the USA I take a size M and it tends to be a on the very comfy side S being a bit too small, so I was hoping the girl would find something smaller than L.

When she came out she displayed a gross piece of material with a big fat label XL for a big fat ass saying proudly "this good!" and -pointing to my butt: "too big!". It was the most indignant moment ever: she took them out, stretched them and put them over my clothes like overbearing embarrassing Moms do whilst saying all the while "gooood!!!".

She turned around and left, I did not understand what was going on, so I followed a minute later just to find her at the register where the cashier was already marking the items, it just seemed so complicated trying to explain that there was a horrible mistake and that NO WAY was I a size XL, so I said thank you and quietly paid, thinking I could leave them behind in the Guest House and perhaps the owner would think it was a new blanket I had kindly donated.

When I got home, just out of curiosity I tried them on, just to have a laugh...

They fit... they fit perfectly and snugly too... SO depressing!

Darned tiny, tiny Asians and their tainted sizes.

April 15
PhotosPosted by Gala
Thu, April 15, 2010 06:22:04

It is my Boys' birthday and I am a bit melancholy.
I have not spend even half of their bdays with them.

I am happy they are healthy, good hearted, responsible, reliable, handsome, smart, genuinely good, focused, studious, intelligent and very sweet. (also smart assed and messy, but who cares?!). VERY proud of my children!

Today I miss them terribly.

They are turning 16.

I am too young to have such old kids!

Old blog 9

2010 blogsPosted by Gala Tue, August 19, 2014 20:41:39
D'oh!Posted by Gala Mon,
September 06, 2010 09:07:07

Customs in India are quite unique, all the way around.

Starting at the airport

I have never been so thoroughly checked for a short flight before, 12 people (count them TWELVE) stopped me at some point or another to check my bag, take all items out, open any closed containers, one of them had my breakfast, some fruits and I forbade the officer to touch it telling him his hands were dirty and he would NOT be touching my food (he didn't).

My passport was read oh so many times it just got silly (try pronouncing GALA GUIBA GUERRERO), and the frisking was... frisky, that is more foreplay than anything else. I got touched everywhere by the female officers... and I mean EVERYWHERE... lovers -if I remember correctly- are not that detailed, I kid you not.

From those 12 people, 5 were posted from the boarding gate to the actual seat.

I think soon they will install a gynecologist to do help with the process.

You think that is bad? you guys will get a proctologist, mark my words!

Photos in Kathmandu
Mushy Stuff / Mariconadas
Posted by Gala Fri, August 27, 2010 11:15:08

I am really crappy photographer; I have no instinct, technique, good eye, quick reflexes and certainly not gutsy enough to make good shots: being brave is of the essence! you gotta have a good pair to stick a camera right on a Monk's face while he's having a smoke (some do!) or a bunch of men having a "shower" on a busy street (seen it in Burma: soap and all) or to capture the essence of a city via funky looking gurus smoking pot by a temple (saw that in Kathmandu).

I don't have any of that, and it is a shame, really. I am too slow, too shy (laugh not!) and my equipment is a teeny weenie camera with a faulty battery. Never the less I try. Would never submit anybody to my hundreds of boring shots, of course and have come to terms with my lack of photographic talent, but today was different...

Kathmandu is a place like no other even within the realms of "every place is unique". I stay in the backpacker district which caters to all non-trekking travelers' romantic notion of the town: exotic, crowed, literally hundreds of stores selling all sorts of clothing, textiles, handcrafts all tucked away in suspicious looking alleys; dozens rickshaws, holy cows (batman ha-ha!) wandering around... seriously, they are cows and considered to be holy, they stand in the middle of the street while MAD traffic respectfully drive around them when no such respect is shown for human life: pedestrians are no more than speed bumps to drivers.

People walk shoulder to shoulder, elbowing and pushing and jumping out of the way of crazy cabbies; little kids come and ask for money with heartbreaking whimpers only to turn around and mess around laughing hysterically with their mates. surprisingly men NEVER touch, whistle, stare, grab, pull or are disrespectful to women; this is a place where a yellow sari clad guy, with 2mt long dreadlocks, face ashed white and heavy red coloured forehead or lips, not sure (not unlike Ronald Mc Donald only tantric) comes to you and throws flowers on your head, put red stuff on your forehead and dictates your as "blessed" .

I can take a thousand pictures and it could never reflect the smells, a mix of incense and rotting corps -the city has no garbage disposal system, so people choose sites and dump their rubbish there, it rots thanks to the unbearable heat and the stomping around of seemingly thousands of people, eaten by dogs & cows... I have seen piles 1.5mts tall-.
Even if I was a master with my little camera -which I am not- the constant honks of cars, scooters and cleverly designed hoots bicycles use made out of up-side down ketchup bottles could never ever be properly reflected on a picture.

IF I take a shot of that I see, it appears to be only another traffic jam, but it is Oh! so much more than that! it is a mind blowing defiance of space and logic, it is impossible colors, shocking scents, human misery and beauty all mixed in one. How can I convey the impact of seeing a bleeping cow taking a nap in a busy intersection? it would just be the picture of a cow, wouldn't it?.

I am certain that in some years photography will be multi-censorial experience, where one can smell the smells, hear the sounds, feel the textures, taste the tastes... this would certainly give a twist to those (boring!) honey moon pictures in Mumbai...

Books & Flicks
Posted by Gala Sat, August 21, 2010 07:48:15

The Hunchback of Notre dame (Victor Hugo); just read it; so sad, heartbreaking really.
Took me a bit to get into it as it is descriptive to a fault specially in terms of architecture; reading it 180 years after it was written I am bound to miss many of the back handed comments about government and church, although most of it can be applied to politicians and bishops of this day and age.
But I stuck to it, more like a chore than a pleasure but then it happened, pure magic; the book "grabbed" me and I couldn't put it down.

When my Boys were little I used to tell them there were some "magical" books, after reading a bit something would come from its pages and take a hold of them, from that point on everything will revolve about the story untill they finished it. I don't think they remember that now, but we use to define books as magical or not.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame? Magical.

Wonderful to read classics and dissipate all those misconceptions I might have, which largely come from loosely based films, adaptations, side references and the likes, which is all fine, of course, but the very cool thing is to know the basis of it all and; I am sure most of you have already read them, but for me it is new and little by little I nibble my way through, with surprises and all:

Frankenstein (Mary Shelley) was a good, tender hearted misunderstood creation (sans bolts on his forehead) there wasn't any plank, thunderbolts or "IT"S ALIIIIVEEEE" yell from Dr. Frankenstein, in fact, he just abandoned the poor thing there and did not come across it for YEARS until his creation caught up with him. Another terribly sad story.
Dracula (Bram Stoker) has no allergy to garlic; does not require an invitation to get into a house and does not necessarily prefer hot young blond girls;

Gulliver (Jonathan Swift) was quite the stubborn one and had NO sense of direction as he goes for his travels on 4 separate occasions, getting lost every single time. I knew the trip to Lilliput, but he visits many others, the last being the Yahoo's (horses dominating mankind and superior in every way) and the most impressive -to me- to the land where people were immortal... sounds like a good deal? well, not really: they kept getting old and decrepit, despised by all. You see, it is only cool to be immortal if you look like Brad Pitt in "Interview with a Vampire" that is trim, sexy and not a day over 35; any other way living for ever would seriously suck.

The weirdest thing ever, in my Robinson Crusoe (DeFoe)book there was no mention of Friday, his companion (found much a long while after he was stranded) was named Sunday for he found him "on the day of the lord", I might have quite a funky edition as I have done a brief research and have found that the native is called "Friday" everywhere else, which leaves me terribly confused.

I have never seen the adaptation of the Hunchback in any of its forms, but now I am curious to see the Disney version... there is NO way it could have kept in line with the story and make it politically correct and safe for children; there is torture, heartless treatment to handicaps, hookers left and right, be-headings, abuse of justice, VERY naughty sexual arousal and a priest looking behind a door how a girl is being seduced... to put it politely (boobs fondled and all) the same priest tries to rape Esmeralda, who by the way is 16.

HOW THE HELL did they manage to make this into a kiddy movie???

Err... exit please?
Mental notesPosted by Gala
Sun, August 15, 2010 09:52:39
Mental Note:
when making a stupid face in the attempt to ruin a stranger's picture (AKA Photo-Bomb), make sure you are not trapped in a confined space such as a bus, subway or restaurant; chances are they will check the photo, pass the digital camera around and notice the weird brown woman sitting behind them gesturing... they will look at you grudgingly or in the best case, mock you mercilessly...

D'oh!Posted by Gala
Mon, August 09, 2010 03:00:44

I am now in Myanmar, Burma.
My travel guide, under ATM's wrote: "Dream on"
Boy! they were not kidding!
The very same day I left Singapore I read this and ran like mad to airport ATM's and currency exchange joints where I paid ridiculous fees just to get some dollars. I wasn't too concerned as I thought that things may have changed here and AT LEAST I could go to a bank.
Nope, no banks, no debit nor credit cards, ATM do no exist, so this time I have to stick to a budget FOR REAL.
I exchanged 100 USD at my guest house and got about 2 or 3 inches of local money (Kyats) which I hope will suffice.
That is another thing, they take only new notes, none of that old crumpled stuff, they want 'em dollars fresh out of the press, 100 notes get extra credit BUT there are certain serial numbers which are not favoured, so those get rejected, no matter what: if it is a "bad" number you are screwed...
Oh dear!

D'oh!Posted by Gala
Sat, August 07, 2010 10:03:16

Just had such a fabulous week in Singapore, I am totally in love with the place.

Although it is the biggest shopping mall in the world -seriously, I have never seen so many shops and malls all connected- I still love the city, the weather, sites, architecture, heritage; adore how everything works like clockwork, it is clean, safe, fun, GREAT subway & bus system, cinemas... I had a film watching orgy of 10 movies in 7 days: Despicable me is the best movie ever! dazzled by Leo di Caprio (I know...) , experienced my first 3D with a very cheesy Hollywood flick, cried like a fool with Toy Story 3, how could I not! Andy leaves Buzz & Woody and the whole gang! (Mr. Potato Head rocks) On an unrelated side note: little snotty children should be taught not make fun of their more sensible elders in movie theaters.

My friends tell me I love it so much here because it is totally western, I suppose they are right, I just felt so... at home but in a bizarre, like the antipodes of home (wherever that is) where it feels very real but in a Chinese version? I even saw people who looked like friends of mine but with Asian features... weird, man!

By the way, and this is not very PC, but I had trouble following a couple of Chinese films I saw, the characters looked all the same to me and I could barely keep up with the story as I thought it was the same actor playing multiple roles or the same guy chasing and being chased... very confusing! I have been told by local acquaintances that they have the same problems with westerns: we all look the same to them, do you think that when they watch a movie they are not sure if that chick is Julia Roberts, Jolie or Sandra Bullock? or that there are only 6 characters in Ocean 11?!!
I should ask.

It is the city's 45th Birthday on August 9, many happy returns.


D'oh!Posted by Gala
Tue, July 27, 2010 02:52:46

My I-tunes library suffers from morbid obesity.
It used to be lean and trim music machine way back when; then I started feeding it just about everything: classical, pop, rap, rancheras, opera, blues, rock, house, lounge, oldies, newbie’s, everything I could get my hands on would go in, byte after byte.

Then it just got worse, not only would I do this in the privacy of my home, but I started taking my lap to my friend's house and binging on a whole all new array of flavours and styles, in a horrid display of musical gluttony.

I got to the lowest point when I visited my kids, their dad has the most amazing collection, so I would hide and stuff my poor I-tunes in the wee hours while people were sleeping. Embarrassing.

At this point I realized I had a problem, this had to stop! The hard disk was feeling tight, it hardly fit anymore, not a single note could be added to my 80g Ipod and it was constantly refluxing; the shuffle just popped and there was no apendixectomy to save it; this depressed me so we went trough the bulimic stage; downloading tons and tons of music over the internet only to be deleted afterwards; the trash bin was constantly emptied.
Now we have stopped all of that… mainly because it is impossible to add so much as an album cover.
Now we have realized the consequences of our actions
Now we are too fat to move.
When I open the Itunes application my poor, poor Mac cannot stand the weight and collapses, the little colourful ball of doom spirals like crazy whenever I attempt to upload my library and there is not a chance in hell I can get it to stop.
As I work, I see it from the corner of my eye… It just stays there, the little music note icon, staring grudgingly at me, accusing me of its inability to perform, to even put a B after an A while sorting, not to mention dealing with the Artist… that just throws it into a pathetic fit.
I try to help, I really do; I quit all other applications so it has a bit more room to manoeuvre; entice it to exercise and flex those chubby genres, move ‘em flaccid albums to the rhythm of the deceased King of Pop, but all to no avail.
It is simply too podgy; all other applications are beginning to hate it as it slows them down, at times there is a strike on the toolbar lead by a defiant Firefox.
It is sad, really.
In a mad attempt to revive it, I pressed the wrong key (repeatedly) and the library doubled, quadrupled, whatever comes after hitting a button 10 times BAM! Just like that it exploded into 168,324 songs!
It really breaks my heart as now I fear I may have to pull the plug and wipe it all clean, kill the poor bastard and start a whole new life with a leaner, cleaner, younger version of it. Seems such an unfair betrayal.
No, I am not ready to give up on my meaty creation. I shall find a cure! download a program that guarantees to bring it back to life and whip it into shape, to lypo-suck all the excess entries; I have found all this promising Gurus online and I am hopeful.

Ah! the irony… almost 170,000 entries and I cannot listen to music.

Greed is a bad, BAD thing.

x-ray of an email
Mushy Stuff / Mariconadas
Posted by Gala Sat, July 24, 2010 07:34:46

Yesterday I briefly emailed with this person I had met almost a year back. It was all fun and games back then but unfortunately the last time we actually met it was one hellish encounter, one of those we all keep in the annals of infamy? yeah, like that only nastier.

The reason for the contact was innocent enough, I had realized some applications I use kept sending emails to my contacts (if you received them I apologize!) which is annoying enough, problem was it kept using an old address book which still had his contact details I had totally erased him, or so I thought... bummer! the mere idea of him thinking I was desperately trying to get in touch with him made my stomach turn, so I followed the undeniable female logic and I contacted him to let him know I was not trying to contact him...

Yeah, I know...

Polite as he always is he replied nicely not to worry and the usual pleasantries came back and forth in the next and final email.

All is fine, we are civil and grown up but I could not help but to analyze what REALLY made me want to email him. After our last redez-vous it is absolutely clear to me, without any shadow of doubt (yet with certain melancholy) that he is not a person I would want to be with at all, he is the OPPOSITE of what I consider attractive in a man; really detested his behavior and he was a great disappointment to me as a person. There is nothing that would make me reconsider him as a romantic option and I am pretty damned sure he feels the same way about me.

Then why the hell then did I contact him?

My original reason was valid 100%, I was ticked off for this e-blunder... we always have a good reason, don't we? but if we go deeper we realize there is always something else going on; perhaps we want to find a way to say those things we couldn't? maybe we need to tell people "hey, you really hurt me... you SUCK!" or "I am sorry I behaved like an idiot (not entirely my case, but there are some elements of my idiocy, no doubt).

Why do we go back to places we don't want to be in?.

I think in my case, it upsets me that I never really got the chance to be me, he never got to know me and I still got crucified; in reality I can live with that, it is a superficial reasoning.

The hard core truth of it all, the X-ray result is that having been so utterly mistaken for so long about this person makes me doubt myself and my judgment and THAT I can't live with, not with self doubt, I can't... how could I possible be SO dead wrong about somebody? am I totally unable now to tell good from evil? am I so totally delusional? making up stories and believing them? did I just imagine this perfect person? because gawd knows that the nasty little troll I met a couple of months ago had nothing to do with the man I had met a year back. AM I THAT STUPID??

I guess what I want is to get to know the real person -at a safe distance- and find peace of mind in the knowledge that I have not lost my marbles just yet, that he behaved like an as*h*le (and I reacted like a lunatic) and in reality it is simply a story that did not work out, but the original character did in fact exist and was not a fixture of my feverish -and lonely- imagination.

And this is the x-ray of a personal email, right to the bone.

Exam Answers
Quotes, jokes & BabosadasPosted by Gala Thu, July 22, 2010 09:36:32
Found these answers given by high school kids in various exams.
I am even MORE proud of my kids after reading this...

It's a little long, but worth the time!
Q. Explain one of the processes by which water can be made safe to drink
A. Flirtation makes water safe to drink because it removes large pollutants like grit, sand, dead sheep and canoeists

Q. How is dew formed
A. The sun shines down on the leaves and makes them perspire

Q. What causes the tides in the oceans
A. The tides are a fight between the earth and the moon. All water tends to flow towards the moon, because there is no water on the moon, and nature abhors a vacuum. I forget where the sun joins the fight.

Q. What guarantees may a mortgage company insist on
A. If you are buying a house they will insist that you are well endowed

Q. In a democratic society, how important are elections
A. Very important. Sex can only happen when a male gets an election

Q. What are steroids
A. Things for keeping carpets still on the stairs

Q. What happens to your body as you age
A. When you get old, so do your bowels and you get intercontinental

Q. What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty
A. He says goodbye to his boyhood and looks forward to his adultery
Q. Name a major disease associated with cigarettes
A. Premature death

Q. What is artificial insemination
A. When the farmer does it to the bull instead of the cow

Q. How can you delay milk turning sour
A. Keep it in the cow

Q. What is the fibula?
A. A small lie

Q. What is the most common form of birth control
A. Most people prevent contraception by wearing a condominium

Q. Give the meaning of the term ‘Caesarean section’
A. The caesarean section is a district in Rome

Q. What is a seizure?
A. A Roman Emperor.

Q. What is a terminal illness
A. When you are sick at the airport.

Q. What does the word ‘benign’ mean?
A. Benign is what you will be after you be eight

Q. What is a turbine?
A. Something an Arab or Shreik wears on his head

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