lunes, agosto 30, 2004

'Nip/Tuck' (Martes a las 22 hs. por FOX)

"Nip/Tuck" plasma en forma cínica y con altas dosis de sarcasmo la frágil naturaleza de pacientes que tratan de enmascarar sus problemas psicológicos a través de cambios externos. Y esta tendencia se incrementa notoriamente en prácticamente cualquier punto del planeta.

Sean McNamara (Dylan Walsh) y Christian Troy (Julian McMahon) son dos cirujanos, amigos desde la universidad, que en los últimos diez años dedicaron sus vidas a un negocio de dinero fácil y alejado del juramento hipocrático: el de las cirugías estéticas.

Su estreno en norteamérica provocó una gran polémica con la American Society of Plastic Surgeons, que pidió su levantamiento y la acusó de ser "una representación inapropiada y sensacionalista de la práctica de la medicina".


"Cuando dejes de esforzarte por ser perfecta, será lo mismo que estar muerta"

domingo, agosto 29, 2004

GIA, the beauty behind the pain...

Ayer ví 'GIA' una película q está basada en un hecho real (mejor dicho en una vida real)...y la protagoniza Angelina Jolie...
La verdad es q me gustó bastante...

Jolie nterpreta a la top model-lesbiana-drogadicta de los años 80, Gia Marie Carangi q murió de SIDA a los 26 años de edad, una vida corta pero muy, muy intensa. La película muestra como una persona puede llegar a tocar el cielo y el infierno sin casi darse cuenta.

Gia llega a New York como una joven punk de 17 años a fines de la década del 70, entrando al mundo del modelaje como un huracán. Tenía estilo propio, y espectacular belleza. Su reinado fue corto y después de sólo 9 años, dentro y fuera del negocio, Gia murió de SIDA a los 26 años. Su caso fue uno de los primeros documentados donde se ingresó al virus de inmunodeficiencia adquirida como la causa de su muerte.

La recomiendo...

Life Sucks -check it out-

I am not a happy person. Maybe you're not either. Maybe you're too fat, or too thin, too old, or too young. Maybe you're ugly and nobody wants to sleep with you. Maybe everyone wants to sleep with you, but nobody loves you and it's all meaningless. Maybe your mind is fucked up and you're in pain all the time.

So you struggle with all these problems year after year, and you're getting nowhere, and you wonder if anything will ever change. And the unavoidable reality of it all is that, for you, life sucks.

But of course you're not going to give up so easily, you're going to keep struggling to solve your problems, to change yourself, to find happiness, wherever it is, whatever it is.
But still, life sucks.

And you see all these people out there who are blissfully free of your problems, and if they can do it, there must be some way for you to as well. But they aren't doing you any good at all, they don't understand what it's like being you, and what good would it do you if they did

So, the forces which created you, random or otherwise, have spoken. And they've determined that, for you, life sucks.

Life is inherently meaningless. There is pleasure but there is pain, there is winning but there is loosing, there is success but there is failure, there is life and there is death. All pleasure, all good, is transient. In the end, none of it means anything.

I don't know how common this is, but for me, the main problem is that I feel disconnected from everyone and everything.

I have a few people out there who I care about, or who care about me, but no real intimacy with anyone. Worse yet, this is a long term pattern with me, it's been going on for enough years yet that it's quite possible I will be alone for the rest of my life.

This totally sucks.

I would like to have friends I could be truly close to, someone that I could be in love with, but I'm psychologically fucked up enough that I don't know how to make this happen.

I like to think that if I had love and intimacy in my life, life wouldn't suck nearly as much.

Is there any way to have meaning in your life when you're disconnected from everyone?
I don't think so.

The Big Lie

All of your life, you've been lied to.

You've been told what life is supposed to be about. Grow up, do well in school, make friends, get a girlfriend or boyfriend, get a good job, get married, get a nice house and have kids. Watch tv, go to church, vote, find some hobbies to entertain you. Donate money to charity. Go on vacation. Get old, retire, spend time with the grandkids. Look
back on your life with nostalgia, look forward to the afterlife of your choosing.

This is what you're supposed to do, this is what normal people do. This is what everyone else is doing. Oh sure, there are a few aberrations here and there, sometimes some people slip off this track, but you can get back on at any time.

Of course, when you actually look at the world around you, you may see something entirely different.

See that young married couple living next door, with the wife gardening in the front yard while the kids play out back? She's snowed under with Xanax all the time, without which
She'd be in a continuous state of anxiety. And her 6 year old son, he's following in mom's footsteps already, taking his daily dose of Ritalin to keep him tranquil enough to sit still all day at school.

She stopped sleeping with her husband several years ago, but that's ok, cause he sneaks off a couple times a week and has sex with street prostitutes in the back seat of his car, or a nearby motel. He feels a bit bad for them, and tips them extra.

His favorite prostitute is always glad to see him, because he's pleasant enough and an easy $75. Too bad they can't all be like him. She gets beaten up and raped by johns multiple times a year, but that's ok, she can handle it, cause even at its worst this job is still better than what she went through as a child. Besides, there's no other way she could
support her crack cocaine habit.

And the cop who tries to arrest her, last night he arrested the neighborhood marijuana dealer, then went home and got nice and legally drunk on jack daniels.

And the cop's daughter, the pretty high school cheerleader, sneaks off and vomits after every meal so she won't get fat.

Therapy Sucks

The problem with therapy is that it doesn't actually work.
Don't take my word for this, look at the evidence out in the world. If people could be cured, why not cure criminals? Instead of putting them in prison, send them off to be cured and make them happy functioning members of society. Of course this isn't being done, because therapists don't have the ability to do so.

Take pedophiles, for example. Their primary problem, besides the willingness to abuse children, is the fact that their sexual orientation is towards children. Children turn them on sexually. If we could cure them, if we could alter them psychologically so that they were
no longer sexually attracted to children, they would never molest a child again. But therapists have zero ability to do this, they have never done this a single time with anyone.
At best, they can possibly get the pedophile not to act on his desires, but the desires will still be there.

This is not to say that therapy is totally worthless. If you want a paid friend who will listen to you talk about your troubles, go see a therapist. If you don't understand yourself or your actions very well, it could be helpful to you to have someone intelligent and objective
analyze you. If you make stupid decisions in your life and need the assistance of someone with more common sense than yourself, a therapist can certainly be helpful.
"Well Sarah, since your husband beats you all the time, and since you don't want to be beaten all the time, have you considered leaving him?"

And if you're tired of alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, and other such drugs, and want access to some cool prescription drugs, go see a psychiatrist for your mood-altering needs.
Maybe Xanax or Valium or Paxil can finally make you feel the way you want to feel.

But if you were actually hoping to change yourself psychologically, too bad, therapists don't know enough to help with that. They can help you change what you DO, perhaps, since you yourself can change what you do. But they don't know how to change who you are.


Ayer, después de mil años, salí...

De todas formas la pasé como el orto, pero bueh...

Lo q sucedió es q hubo un cambio de planes, primeramente íbamos a salir Maricel y yo solas...(como siempre) pero después Pablo (su ‘novio’) nos propuso ir al cumpleaños de un amigo de él...en Micky (Ramos).

Hasta ahí estaba todo bien, porq una vez q estuviéramos dentro del lugar cada quién podría hacer lo suyo...él y sus amigos estarían por su lado, y Maricel y yo por otro...

Pero luego hubo un inconveniente (el q cumplía años chocó...así q nunca apareció) y terminamos en un bar de por ahí...(Pablo, tres amigos suyos, Maricel y yo) lo cual fue una cagada...porq ahí nos vimos forzadas a estar con ellos...

En realidad, el tema es q yo no conocía a nadie...(de hecho a Pablo era la 2da vez q lo veía, y la vez q lo conocí, Maricel y él no salían) y Maricel los conocía de vista nomás pero cero onda...entonces pese a estar todos en una misma mesa, ni pelota...

En un principio todo bien, pero luego de cierta hora ya no daba para más...y yo me quería ir a la mierda...para colmo en un momento Maricel empezó a apretárselo a Pablo y, lógicamente, quedé re colgada...(situación de mierda si las hay...)

Encima uno de los pendejos me dice: ¿por q no te sumas al grupo así les das cierta intimidad a los chicos?...perdón...yo no coarte la libertad de nadie, así q no me rompan los huevos...(ese comentario ya me cayó mal...demás está decirlo)

Para colmo de males, ahora q me cambiaron la medicación nuevamente...nosé cuando mierda empezará a hacer efecto la nueva...y bueh, toda esta semana me sentí para el fóbica y depresiva mal...

En fin...así pasó la noche...hasta q al fin Dios oyó mis plegarias y nos fuimos...

La conclusión sigue siendo la misma de siempre: será mejor no salir más...porq siempre q uno sale la pasa encaja en ninguna parte y encima ve como todos a su alrededor se divierten menos uno...

At least I tried...

viernes, agosto 27, 2004


Hoy recibí un e-mail q me rompió mucho las pelotas...
Entre otras cosas, decía lo siguiente:

'la verdad no se si estas re mal como me decís o me mostras en los mails que me mandas, no se es raro, ojo por este medio se pueden hacer creer muchas cosas y nunca se conoce realmente a las personas como son, yo creo que vos personalmente no sos como me das a entender, para mi sos una mina re distinta a lo que me decís, te lo digo de onda no...
además sos una mina que si esta resentida con la vida no haría todo lo que vos haces, ir al gym o estudiar periodismo, no se es lo que a mi me parece...'

Sinceramente me enferma q no me crean, q piensen q es la primera persona q me dice algo así...ahora yo les pregunto...¿que ganaría yo al decir cosas q no son ciertas? NADA...solo q la gente se aleje de mi porq nadie quiere oír mis comentarios negativos...
No entiendo como pueden pensar q invento todo me entra en la cabeza...
Si bien no estoy muy bien del bocho, tampoco soy una fabuladora...
Reconozco q me gusta victimizarme, y dar lástima...pero rara vez exagero las cosas...
S estudio periodismo es porq no encuentro ninguna otra puta carrera q safe...NO ME GUSTA NADA, NO ME VEO HACIENDO NADA...pero la materia principal (el taller de grafica, radio y tv) la dejé porq soy una fóbica de mierda...
Si voy al gimnasio es porq odio mi maldito cuerpo, mi culo caído, mis piernas fláccidas y celulíticas, mis caderas deformes...etc. pero ya me esta re pudriendo...y no pienso ir mas...porq de nada sirve...siempre estoy igual...y aunque cambiara, las cosas seguirían siendo las mismas...sea como sea mi vida va a ser una bosta siempre...y nadie se va a fijar en mí nunca...
Hace poco me había puesto las pilas...este mes lo había empezado bien, iba todos los días...y hasta con ganas...pero ya me cansó, es siempre ir y hacer lo mismo...y a mí la rutina me enferma...
Para colmo hace 5 meses q voy y no veo ningún cambio significativo en ninguna parte de mi cuerpo...o sea, pese a ser flaca...tengo mucha flaccidez...porq cuando era chica era mucho más gorda y al adelgazar tanto quedé hecha una FOFA INMUNDA...
De todas formas, no pretendo milagros...nunca hice ningún deporte y años de sedentarismo han dejado sus huellas...pero si aunque sea viera q en ALGO...mejoré, lo tomaría de otra manera...
En fin, tendré q hacerme alguna cirugía más adelante...nosé...
Encima vas ahí y ves q todas tienen un cuerpo de la re puta madre (al menos las de mi edad), un orto parado...bien lindo (no chato como el mío)...unas gambas bien firmes...un abdomen licito...y yo soy un asco, totalmente repulsiva...
Hay gente q lo tiene todo de arriba, y uno si quiere culo, tetas o lo q sea lo tiene q garpar...tiene q arriesgar su puta vida en un quirófano...y hasta correr riesgos de quedar peor de lo q estás...

Una canción q me re gusta...

Savage Garden - To the Moon and Back

She's taking her time making up the reasons
To justify all the hurt inside
Guess she knows from the smiles and the look in their eyes
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one
They're saying, "Mama never loved her much"
And, "Daddy never keeps in touch
That's why she shies away from human affection"
But somewhere in a private place
She packs her bags for outer space
And now she's waiting for the right kind of pilot to come
And she'll say to him

I would fly to the moon and back if you'll be...
If you'll be my baby
Got a ticket for a world where we belong
So would you be my baby?

She can't remember a time when she felt needed
If love was red then she was color blind
All her friends they've been tried for treason
And crimes that were never defined
She's saying, "Love is like a barren place,
And reaching out for human faith
Is like a journey I just don't have a map for"
So baby's gonna take a dive and
Push the shift to overdrive
Send a signal that she's hanging
All her hopes on the stars
What a pleasant dream

I would fly to the moon and back if you'll be...
If you'll be my baby
Got a ticket for a world where we belong
So would you be my baby?

Mama never loved her much
And, Daddy never keeps in touch
That's why she shies away from human affection
But somewhere in a private place
She packs her bags for outer space
And now she's waiting for the right kind of pilot to come
And she'll say to him

I would fly to the moon and back if you'll be...
If you'll be my baby
Got a ticket for a world where we belong
So would you be my baby?

I would fly to the moon and back if you'll be...
If you'll be my baby
Got a ticket for a world where we belong
So would you be my baby?

jueves, agosto 26, 2004


El otro día leí un BLOG de una chica con la q me sentí muy identificada por diversas cosas...
Algo en particular q ella dijo me hizo pensar bastante...para no entrar demasiado en detalles...básicamente lo q decía era q conocía la vida...a través de los demás, o sea a través de las experiencias ajenas...
Y la verdad es q a mí me pasa exactamente lo mismo...lo poco q sé, lo sé gracias a lo q me cuentan...TRISTE PERO CIERTO...probablemente nunca vaya a experimentar ciertas cosas...
Pero bueno, lo único q queda es RESIGNARSE...
Q caso tiene luchar con el destino, después de todo...?
Ayer hablaba con una compañera de la facultad, q tiene un año menos q yo...y la piba me contaba acerca de sus experiencias sexuales...y después se sumaron otras personas a la conversación, todos aportaban algo...menos yo...q no tengo mucho para aportar...lógicamente...y bueno, a la larga tuve q terminar confesando q era virgen...y todo el mundo se re quedó...como diciendo...'OH MY GOD, WHAT A LOSER!'
En fin, una situación de mierda...
Bueno, me despido por hoy...