Zero Tolerance Fighting Skool, Sol Gilbert

En el mismo edificio en el que trabajaba en Brighton, abrieron no hace mucho un gimnasio bastante peculiar.
El ZT Fighting Skool, las siglas ZT vienen de Zero Tolerance (tolerancia cero).



El que lleva este gimnasio es Sol Gilber, conocido campeón de Rage Cage, para los que no sepan de qué va esto, sirva un vídeo de explicación.



Sol Gilbert es el que siempre gana en el vídeo...

Solo con ver a los "socios" de Sol se te helaba la sangre, típicos gángsteres ingleses sacados de una peli de Guy Ritchie (Lock and Stock, Cerdos y Diamantes) que llegaban al gimnasio en Range Rovers, Porsches y Aston Martins con espectaculares mujeres...

One More Step

For over four years now, we've had adoption paperwork in process.

Today we got Sam's social security number in the mail. That means we have ONE MORE STEP in our adoption paperwork - obtaining the Certificate of Citizenship. After 4 years, I am ecstatic at the thought of being DONE!

The last step is exciting, but as with most things in adoption, it comes with a pricetag. The $420 fee for a Certificate of Citizenship is annoying for a couple of reasons. First of all, there is a law in effect that declares our adopted children citizens at the time of their adoption. BUT - despite that law - we still have to pay them $420 for the piece of paper that says it. Second, it is not technically "required" for us to get that piece of paper. Our childrens' passports, birth certificates, and adoption papers prove their citizenship. But passports expire, and in case there is ever any confusion (throughout our kids' lives the laws could change again - not taking away their status but people's understanding of it may be muddled, for instance if they are trying to apply for college scholarships, etc) so it's just nice to have that final declaration. For Sam, it's also a means of making sure he is never called to serve in the Korean army. Korean men have mandatory military service and I've heard about immigrants who were basically drafted after living in the US their whole lives. As I understand it, Sam's US citizenship means his Korean citizenship is automatically revoked.

So, I have downloaded the 7 page application for the CoC and the 8 pages of instructions and I will be happy to get them in the mail, despite having to write that $420 check. Lord willing, by the end of this year, we will be officially FINISHED with adoption paperwork. YAHOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Unless, of course, I can talk Bryan into adopting again in a few years! ;-)

Sam at 18 months

Slammin' Sam is a little ball of energy, a 21-pound tornado who spreads crumbs, toys, germs, kisses, and joy. We are in love with him. Well, with Alex it may be more like love-hate, but...anyway, here he is figuring out how to feed Elmo and modeling his shark pajamas. Note that his manhood is not at all challenged by the act of pushing dolls around in a pink stroller. He is in touch with his feminine side.

Aleister Crowley, Led Zeppelin y Boleskine house

Alesteir Crowley nació en Inglaterra en 1875. Es conocido por sus escritos sobre ocultismo y por la poco común vida que llevó. Criado en una familia de fuertes raíces católicas, cuando tuvo uso de razón decidió seguir su propio camino y rendir culto al maligno.

No tardó mucho en convertirse en más conocido practicante de la magia negra de su época.

Famosas eran sus orgías (él mismo era bisexual) en las que se dice que realizaban actos de magia negra y se llevaban a cabo sacrificios animales.

Se le ha llegado a conocer con el título de “Wickedest Man in the World” (El hombre más malvado del mundo) y la “Bestia 666”.

Entre 1899 y 1913 vivió en Boleskine House, una casa que adquirió en la orilla Sureste del Lago Ness en Escocia. Al otro lado del conocido pueblo visitado por millares de turistas al año en busca del popular monstruo del mismo nombre; desconocedores casi todos ellos de la terrorífica atracción que se encuentra al otro lado del lago.

En esta casa se cree que realizó terroríficas misas negras y todo tipo de embrujos e invocaciones. Aún en la actualidad la casa está rodeada de una zona de vegetación muerta y los pocos vecinos que aún viven en la zona siguen escuchando y viendo cosas extrañas por los alrededores de la
casa.

El cementerio que se encuentra cerca de la casa en el que todas las lápidas tienen grabado el mismo apellido, Fraser...

Siguen llegando cada año contados “thelemitas” o seguidores de la Thelema creada por él.

Jimmy Page, guitarrista de Led Zeppelin, adquirió algunos de los manuscritos de Crowley e incluso se mudó a su nueva casa, Boleskine House.

Led Zeppelin usaba símbolos relacionados con el diablo y la brujería en sus discos y en sus canciones. Tanto era esto que el cuarto álbum no tenía nombre sino que lo representaban con ciertos símbolos que se creen algunos de ellos ser firmas de demonios auténticos.

Muchas desgracias ocurrieron a los miembros de Led Zeppelin en ésta su época oscura.

Man Tears

The rugby world cup concludes this coming saturday with a titanic clash between england and south africa. I say titanic because the 'boks have been looking solid all tournament, while the english have risen from the dead with a string of powerful performances that have taken them a game away from retaining their crown. Considering that south africa have already beaten england 36-0 a few weeks back in the group stages, it should be very interesting to see how much of the psychological effects of that game are still lingering in the minds of both sets of players.

This post was supposed to introduce a theory of mine that I have been honing for a few weeks but was unfortunately dented slightly with the argies' demise to the 'boks last night. The argentinians were hands down the most emotional bunch of players prior to every match. At least half the team was crying at the lineup for the national anthems, and some were even reduced to quivering wrecks. Throughout the tournament I noticed a trend in which the team that seemed to be more fired up during the national anthems in crunch matches seemed to be playing with a higher intensity, and ultimately either won the game or ran the score much closer than anticipated against heavily favored opposition. The argentines, fueled by what seemed to be some real pride in their country and a quite inspiring anthem, were undefeated until last night. The theory had been working so far, with the english really getting pumped up to God Save the Queen over the past two games which got them playing with real intensity from start to finish. The french have another great anthem in La Marseillais, and they really got into it against the kiwis in cardiff, resulting in one of the greatest and most memorable upsets of all time. Although the stade de france was booming two nights ago, the players seemed to be less emotional than the english before that game and the final result was a win for the red roses.

So far so good theory-wise, except for last night. The springboks have been cool and composed throughout the tournament, without really having any real worries (except maybe for Fiji, but that didn't last for too long) and they stood up for their anthem with looks of determination. The argies were typically fired up, with tears flowing so fast and far that it really moved you to see such big men in such a sorry state. End result was a bok win, but for a few mistakes I think that the argentines could well have won the game. Actually, now that I type this out I think my theory is still quite valid. The argies had the intensity at the beginning of the game and were looking much the better side until a few costly giveaways. The south africans then had the mental fortitude to use that points advantage as leverage to negate the intensity of their opponents and put in a very professional display of rugby. I think the argentines could have won this world cup with a little bit more control and discipline.

Key lessons here:
1. Have an inspiring national anthem full of crescendos.
2. Make sure a good few members of the team cry at the start. One player ala John Hayes for Ireland won't produce the required effect. You need at least 3 criers.
3. Convert the crying into anger.
4. Don't concede silly penalties and don't give away interception tries.

I think I'm gonna go apply for the (soon to be) vacant new zealand post now after that inspiring set of sentences.

Madrid, América y chistes élficos

Aquí estoy en España llevando una vida de estudiante golfo a mi edad.
Sin responsabilidades, saliendo mucho (muchísimo) y acostándome a eso de las 6 de la mañana, eso si no salgo. Ni que decir tiene que levantándome a las mil también.
Sin saber que será de mí dentro de un mes o una semana...
De momento me lo estoy pasando muy bien y viendo a mucha gente que tengo que ver y haciendo muchas cosas que se pueden hacer en una ciudad grande como Madrid.

Si el nuevo curro de Freelance Translator cuaja me veo recorriéndome España durante unos mesecitos antes de poner mi culo en un avión hacia América.

De momento un chiste élfico que le contó Légolas a un amigo mió que a su vez me lo contó a mi:

¿Cómo dice “camarero” en idioma élfico?
...
...
Éldelbar


Patético, lo sé...

my Saturday

Lest I let days like this go by without remembering how fun they are, I will blog today's events for posterity...

Sam wakes up and as usual, mine is the first face he sees in the morning. Happy Sam. I wish I had a video of his facial expression, though, when we enter the kitchen and he sees Lena smiling up at us from her seat on the kitchen table. You can just read "What is THIS doing in MY house!" all over him. Later, I'm goo-gooing to Lena and she's smiling and we're having a happy aunt-niece bonding moment, when Sam taps me on the arm. I turn and say, "Yes, Sam?" and he plants a big kiss right on my face. And some people think babies have a hard time communicating without language!

Enter Ava, a few minutes later. She is greeted by Sam with his favorite all-purpose name for people, "Mama!" and she says very seriously, "I am not a mama." Take that, Sam-I-am!

We make blueberry pancakes with pink food coloring (lately Alex is really into colored pancakes) and the girls help stir the batter. While the pancakes are cooking the kids eat frozen blueberries. Soon I have 3 happy kids with blueberry faces and fingers, and spots of squashed blueberries on my recently-mopped kitchen floor.

Soon it's time to go to Calvin's birthday party (he's 3). Alex throws a tantrum over having to wear clothes instead of pajamas, and refuses to go potty (it's 10:30 a.m. and she woke up dry and hasn't gone since last night). I realize I have not had a shower and now I don't have time, so I put on more eye makeup and hope it will detract attention from my greasy hair.

The birthday party is well attended, chaotic, and a big hit with the kids. I enjoy talking with friends I rarely see, and we all say we should get together more but no one has time. Sam pushes trucks around and makes truck noises while Calvin opens his presents. Sam cries when he can't have Calvin's new trains. Alex starts whining that her tummy hurts, which means she REALLY has to go to the bathroom now. I take her to the bathroom but Sam sees us go, which causes his face to crumple and he stands at the door and wails until I let him in, while Alex pees about a gallon and instantly her tummy is better. Later she wants to be "baby Lena" and eats chocolate cake with her hands instead of a fork, and then gets into smearing the cake all over her tray and hands, laughing hysterically. (At least she didn't smear it into her hair, though it would be easier to remove than A&D ointment.) Sam grabs another kid's cake and runs off with it in his mouth, a huge grin on his face. He then climbs up on me, smearing chocolate onto my pants and shirt. He falls asleep in the car on the way home.

We all take naps. Afterwards, the kids get baths and I dress Sam in a cute outfit he could wear to church tomorrow. I make spaghetti for dinner. After picking a thousand strands of red-stained angel hair pasta out of Sam's clothes, high chair, table and surrounding area, I vow to make only "shell" pasta from now on. Sam is whining about something and I hear Alex say to him, "Sam, where is your sunshine?" I smile. My sunshine is right here, all around me.

If It Be Your Will de Leonard cohen cantada por Antony de Antony and the Johnsons

Es dificil superar esto.
Una canción de Leonard Cohen "If it be your will" cantada por Antony de Antony and the Johnsons.
Candelita...

the things kids do

I don't know if it was the first snow of the season (in September), or the barometric pressure, or what - but I was so tired! I had just been chatting with my friend who also has a 3 year old, about how good our kids are. My friend said, "I can take a nap with Aimee free in the house and I don't have to worry about it. I know exactly what she'll do." I said, "Alex is pretty good too, I could probably do that too. It's Sam I have to worry about." So after putting Alex and Sam down for naps, I thought, Why not? I'll just take a nap too. Even though Alex can now climb out of her bed and basically roam the house unsupervised, she never does that. I heard some clunking sounds from the direction of her room, but that's not too uncommon. Some days she doesn't sleep, but she generally stays in her room and plays.

So after Sam got up I was in the kitchen giving him a snack when in walks Alex with a huge grin on her face. Her hair was completely PLASTERED with A&D ointment - which has been sitting on her changing table for years without her ever touching it. I couldn't help laughing, but after 4 washes with baby oil and shampoo neither of us was laughing anymore. Her hair is still stiff and sticky. In case you've ever wondered, A&D ointment just doesn't make a good beauty treatment.

Doy asco, lo se - Sepultura - Ratamahatta

Se que doy asco y pena, soy un puto vago y tengo mi blog abandonado, casi una semana sin postear...
Espero que esteis tan acostumbrad@s a la gente patética como yo que no me odieis por esto y perdoneis mi propio patetismo. No tengo mucho acceso a Internet a mi alrededor, sigo intentando encontrar un proveedor que no de mucho asco y es realmente dificil.
Ademas no paro quieto un minuto, he hecho millones de cosas y conocido a gente muy curiosa. Me lo estoy pasando genial en Madrid y no se donde me iré ni cuando ni siquiera si lo llegaré a hacer.
Latinoamerica me llama mucho de todas formas...

Abrazos y nos leemos pronto, creo...

Slowing down; books I'm into

Whew. This month has been busier than I wanted. I usually work 3 days a week but for the past 3 weeks I worked full time (2 weeks of ward attending on the VA neurology service, and one week of work meetings and recertifying ACLS (Advanced Cardiovascular Life Support)). I'm hoping for things to settle down now, and looking forward to enjoying the fall weather. This morning I was surprised by the first new SNOW on the tops of the mountains near our house - a rude awakening! The leaves are barely starting to turn color - I hope the valley floor doesn't see snow for another month yet. I don't think Sam has a winter coat that fits!

Speaking of Sam, he has had a runny nose and 2 white sores on his tongue for the past 2 days. I wonder what this is, and I hope I don't get it. Since he has sneezed directly into my face a few times, I'm sure I'm exposed. Oh goody.

Despite my schedule I've managed to stick my nose into a few good books lately. I've read one chapter of The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning, and I can see a kindred spirit in him already. I felt like I could close my eyes and point to the page, and almost anywhere in the chapter I'd land on a good quote. I remember laughing out loud at one description of someone whose "cheese is falling off his cracker." Wish I had a sample for the blog, but I don't have the book with me. I'll work on that.

I also started reading Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith by Rob Bell. I think anytime someone starts talking about "repainting" or "re-visioning" or "re-thinking" some aspect of Christianity, it makes some people really nervous and threatened. There is a Wikipedia page about Bell in which some of his critics call him various names, like "relativist" and "liberal" and the like, but I find it interesting they are calling him these names rather than pointing out flaws in his thinking or inconsistencies in his positions. If they want liberal, they should read something by John Shelby Spong - perhaps "Rescuing the Bible from Fundamentalism", a book whose title I really love (haven't actually read the book though). Bell is pretty moderate, if you ask me. It seems he is just out there saying what a lot of us(maybe most) have been thinking, and is trying to swing the pendulum from way over on the "orthodoxy (right doctrine)" side, to a balance between orthodoxy and orthopraxis (right living). I think it's a healthy change. I bet I'd enjoy going to Mars Hill, the church where he is a pastor. But alas, I haven't found a Rob Bell or a Mars Hill in Utah yet.

Other books to consider, when there is time - Reading the Bible Again for the First Time, by Marcus Borg - anyone out there familiar with this author?

and

The Kalahari Typing School for Men - by Alexander McCall Smith - I cannot say enough how much I have enjoyed this whole series!

Dream Eco-Disaster

I overslept this morning. For some reason I didn't wake up at the usual time and ended up sleeping to a very late hour, an hour I was annoyed to have slept until. Two things came of it: a groggy head (which I have now), and a vivid memory of a dream which is the basis to this post.

We had gone to Al-Dar islands with the family, and in the dream it was exactly as I remembered it (except it looked nothing like the real-life version). One thing which was disturbingly different was that the tide had eaten up more than half of one of the three football pitches. My dream-self lamented the loss of this pitch that was the scene of many childhood footy heroics, and I kept going on about global warming and how this was the first time that I had really felt the effects. I even vowed to write a post about it and put it up on my blog. Subsequent recollection of this statement while awake is the driving force behind my current furious typing. Funny thing is, the football pitches I had seen somewhere or another, and it was just a case of cut and paste over the already existing image I had of the islands. If anything, where they were positioned in my dream meant that a big chunk of the beach and sea were buried by these pitches. Another eco-disaster, considering all the ongoing land reclamation work in Bahrain, so maybe the sea was fighting for its survival in the dream, refusing to have so much land imposed on it while I slept.

The dream later evolved into starting a 4-on-4 game and having Cristiano Ronaldo step in to make up the numbers on my team. The bastard never passed the ball to me before I woke up. Thanks for nothing, buster. Oh and Jose, we wouldn't have had it any other way. Cheers for all the brilliant soundbites, and don't stay away for too long!

Internet lleno de piratas

Los que de verdad son piratas son las mafiosas empresas proveedoras de Internet.
Llevo una semana intentando decidir quien da menos asco, pero cada vez que lees alguna letra pequeña o la opinión de los usuarios te dan ganas de reventarlos a palos.
¿Alguna recomendación?

Freelance Translator, Nuevo trabajo

Parece ser que voy teniendo suerte por donde paso.
Mi primera entrevista con una empresa Japonesa y salgo con un contrato en la mano.
Desde ahora soy traductor freelance para una empresa de Tokio. Lo cual quiere decir que puedo seguir viajando todo lo que quiera ya que no tengo que estar en ninguna oficina. Lo unico que necesito es mi ordenador.
Una maravilla.

Aunque yo no creo en la suerte.

Yellow Blaze, Shige, Yokohama y Juanillo - 113 ft booba ft rat luciano on sait lfaire

Primer paso: que un amigo te lo recomiende y te lo de a conocer, en mi caso ha sido Juanillo, tremenda pieza de Sevilla.






Segundo paso: irse a Yokohama, Japón e intentar encontrar el estudio Yellow Blaze, que no es facil...






Tercer paso: intentar contactar con Shige. En mi caso me llevó unos cuantos emails, innumerables llamadas de teléfono y otras tantas visitas al estudio.






Una foto de las mil veces que me encontré con es estudio cerrado.

Tercer y ¿último? paso:
Que Shige, el que para muchos es el mejor tatuador de Japón te reciba y te diga que si quieres una cita para tatuarte tienes que esperar una media de 2 años O_o
Casi nada.
El caso es que le debí caer bien y aparte de darme unas pegatinas, me dijo que me pasara el año que viene y que lo mismo podría tener suerte. Aunque no prometía nada.
Merece la pena pasarse por su página y ver la galería de fotos.
Increíble...



Éste es uno de mis favoritos.

Un vídeo para Juanillo:

New Song women's group

Last night I attended the women's group of New Song Presbyterian Church, where we've been attending for the last couple weeks. I don't remember the last time I attended a women's church group - the idea usually turned me off. I had visions of sitting around doing crafts, painting toenails, swapping tips on makeup and telling childbirth horror stories. Not my thing. But this group was not like that. On the surface, what struck me most was that everyone was so young and skinny! I did have the advantage that my buddy Tammy had been in the group, and I knew she wouldn't have kept going back if it wasn't pretty good.

As an icebreaker we talked about where we were from and how we came to Utah. Not one person there was a Utah native. Several had just arrived here in the past 1-2 years. Amazingly, I had the (dubious?) honor of having been here the longest (13 years). Makes me feel old, but I probably was the oldest one there aside from the pastor's wife who has me by a few years, I think. Anyway, it reminded me that non-Mormon, non-Catholic Christians are truly in the minority (2%) here.

It also took me back to the days when we first moved to Utah. We went to First Presbyterian church and made friends with a bunch of people who were similar in age to the ones in this group - and they all moved away. I wonder how many in this group will still be here in another 10 years. I think a lot of people who move here wind up moving away again - especially if they're not of the "dominant religious affiliation."

terrible threes

What happened to my sweet, mostly compliant, reasonable little girl? Someone has kidnapped her and replaced her with a screaming, thrashing, tantruming little monster! The past few days she has been really obstreperous! The other day, after multiple scream-filled time-outs, she told Bryan, "I had a horrible day." Usually in the evenings she tells us, "I had a GOOD day."

ob·strep·er·ous
–adjective
1.
resisting control or restraint in a difficult manner; unruly.
2.
noisy, clamorous, or boisterous: obstreperous children.
[Origin: 1590–1600; < style="FONT-VARIANT: small-caps" href="http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=ob-">ob- + strepere to rattle); see -ous]

In her defense, she hasn't had the best week. She was ill for a few days, and last night she fell out of bed again (we really do need to install that bedrail). She also has not been napping consistently, so she gets more worn down at the end of the day. Between Sam's giving up his morning nap and Alex giving up the afternoon nap, we are all getting less rest these days. Anyway, I hope this behavior will be short-lived. I have heard people say that "threes" were more terrible than "twos" and I'm starting to fear what this year will look like!

Mañana al Sumo y pasado a Par´s y de allí a Madrid...

Pues eso que nos vemos en Madrid por los bares.
Por cierto el museo Ghibli una maravilla como siempre, además estuve en una zona increíble de Shinjuku. Todo esto y más en breve y con fotos.
De momento preparándome para el gran evento, el Sumo en el estadio de Tokyo.
Abrazo