Siento el plantón del viernes, pero he estado mala con gripe y fiebre. El pack incluía kleenex.
Hoy estoy feliz.
Ayer recibimos una llamada mientras volvíamos a casa y mi prima Ros nos anunciaba que vamos a ser tíos.
«¡Pues vaya cosa!»- Puede que penséis muchos de vosotros, pero para mí es importante. Importante porque la quiero como a una hermana y porque le deseo lo mejor. Porque me acompañó durante mis tratamientos y mis penas hasta conseguirlo. Porque me lleva acompañando desde muchísimo antes y porque, pese a que nos vemos menos y menos que nos vamos a ver, sigue ahí.
Así que si todo va bien (por favor, que así sea) para septiembre tendrá con ella a su chiquitín. Se me hace raro imaginarle como una madre; pero por otra parte me parece natural verla así.
Os dejo con una canción de 10.000 maniacs. No habla de un embarazo feliz, como es el caso. Pero ha sido la primera que me ha venido a la memoria cuando he juntado los conceptos «canción» y «embarazo». Podría haber sido peor. Podría haber pensado primero el «Papa don’t preach» de Madonna.
Hasta el viernes (in sha’Allah)
Oh, baby blankets and baby shoes
Baby slippers, baby spoons, walls of baby blue
Dream child in my head is a nightmare born in a borrowed bed
Now I know lightning strikes again
It struck me once, then struck me dead
My folly grows inside of me
I eat for two, walk for two, breathe for two now
Walk for two, eat for two, breathe for two now
Well, the egg man fell down off his shelf
All the good King’s men with all their help
Struggled ‘til the end for a shell they couldn’t mend
You know where this will lead
To hush and rock in the nursery
For the kicking one inside of me
I eat for two, walk for two, breathe for two now
Eat for two, walk for two, breathe for two now
When the boy was a boy, the girl was a girl
They found each other in a wicked world
Strong in some respects
But she couldn’t stand for the way he begged and gave in
Pride is for men, young girls should run and hide instead
Risk the game by taking dares with «yes»
Eat for two, walk for two, breathe for two now
Eat for two, walk for two, breathe for two now
Walk for two? I’m stumbling
Walk for two? I’m stumbling
Breathe for two, how? I can’t breathe
I can’t breathe
Five months, how it grows
Five months now, I begin to show
Pese al parón navideño, me gustaría seguir manteniendo mi costumbre de recomendación para el fin de semana. Sinceramente, tengo muchas recomendaciones y ninguna a la vez. Había pensado hacer un listado de pelis indispensables para ver en estas fechas, pero me dio pereza hacer semejante ejercicio a estas horas de la mañana (es la 1.12 a.m.)
Después pensé en una de estas pelis en concreto, pero me gustaría dedicarle un post como se merece.
Y finalmente, acudí a la música.
Una vez al año Antonio se reúne con sus hermanos y parejas. La Nochebuena, salvo celebraciones familiares tipo bodas, comuniones, etc. es la única noche del año en la que coinciden todos (son 7 hermanos).
Quedamos el pasado 21 de diciembre. Ese día estuve desde la mañana tarareando una canción de Sinéad O’Connor.
Conocí a Sinéad O’Connor con «Nothing compares to you» y confieso que ésa es la canción de reclamo, pero no la mejor del «I do not want what I haven’t got». Descubrí que el disco y las letras tenían mucho que decir.
El pasado 21 de diciembre decidí volver a darle una escucha rápida en el coche y, aunque ha envejecido, mantiene parte de su encanto.
El disco lo abre un poema irlandés del siglo XVII. Te invito a escuchar el disco y, si puedes, a hacerte con las letras. A mí especialmente me gusta la letra de «Black Boys on Mopeds».
Margareth Thatcher on TV Shocked by the deaths that took place in Beijing It seems strange that she should be offended The same orders are given by her I’ve said this before now You said I was childish and you’ll say it now «Remember what I told you If they hated me they will hate you» England’s not the mythical land of Madame George and roses It’s the home of police who kill black boys on mopeds And I love my boy and that’s why I’m leaving I don’t want him to be aware that there’s Any such thing as grieving Young mother down at Smithfield 5 am, looking for food for her kids In her arms she holds three cold babies And the first word that they learned was «please» These are dangerous days To say what you feel is to dig your own grave «Remember what I told you If you were of the world they would love you» England’s not the mythical land of Madame George and roses It’s the home of police who kill blacks boys on mopeds And I love my boy and that’s why I’m leaving I don’t want him to be aware that there’s Any such thing as grieving.
O estribillos como el de «You cause as much sorrow»:
Why can’t you just leave it be? You’ve done nothing so far but destroy my life You cause as much sorrow dead As you did when you were alive
O esas sensación de vacío tras una ruptura como en
«The Last Day Of Our Acquaintance»
This is the last day of our acquaintance I will meet you later in somebody’s office I’ll talk but you won’t listen to me I know what your answer will be I know you don’t love me anymore You used to hold my hand when the plane took off Two years ago there just seemed so much more And I don’t know what happened to our love Today’s the day Our friendship has been stale And we will meet later to finalize the details Two years ago the seed was planted And since then you have taken me for granted But this is the last day of our acquaintance I will meet you later in somebody’s office I’ll talk but you won’t listen to me I know your answer already But this is the last day of our acquaintance I will meet you later in somebody’s office I’ll talk but you won’t listen to me I know your answer already I know your answer already I know your answer already
La canción que os dejo hoy, no obstante, es la que me pasé tarareando aquel 21 de diciembre. Se llama Jump in the river y me gusta el estribillo. Se podría decir que no tarareaba otra cosa.
El vídeo es un despropósito, pero os lo pego igualmente.
Feliz fin de semana
The phone calls Always left me unsure They’d never say things of their own accord I am preoccupied I can’t get them out of my mind They are terrified And if you said jump in the river I would Because it would probably be a good idea You’re not supposed to be here at all now It’s all been a gorgeous mistake Sick one or clean one The best one That God ever made When I kissed you You didn’t mind I thought I tasted of too many cigarettes But you tasted like wine And I’m not going to change my mind Just because of what they said The worm has laid eggs in their hearts But not in my head And if you said jump in the river I would Because it would probably be a good idea You’re not supposed to be here at all now It’s all been a gorgeous mistake Sick one or clean one The best one That God ever made There’s been days like this before you know And I liked it all Like the times we did it so hard There was blood on the wall And if you said jump in the river I would Because it would probably be a good idea And if you said jump in the river I would Because it would probably be a good idea
tumpitula 