Napkin note

A couple of years ago when I was a different woman than the one I am right now, I decided to go for lunch at the most amazing place I could think of at the time.

Having received my paycheck and being in an utterly terrible mood after a very sordid morning that does not concern to us right now, I took refugee in a glass of wine and decided to order something splendind for lunch, after all, I had decided that my morning was completely lost but my afternoon could still be saved.

Shortly after this, a man enter the restaurant, a beautiful face very familiar to my heart. A tall man with black hair and penetrating blue eyes scouted the room for the best table; he finally landed his stare on the one next to the fireplace, right across mine. My heart stopped for a second and then my face flushed with blushing while I finished my glass of wine.

I order the usual spaguetti with calamari and after I was done, I waived to the waiter to whom I commission to a very important task.

As I was walking away from the restaurant, I started smiling; just the thought of his surprised face while we has handed over the note that I have written for him, with the specific instruction to be delivered only when I had left the restaurant made my afternoon.

On the back of a napkin I wrote:

Andy,

You have no idea what you have done for me today. I had the most horrible day and I came to take refugee at this, my favorite restaurant. Having enjoyed my sip of wine I came to notice that you, out of all the people in world, were sitting across my table, with those beautiful deep blue eyes and that black hair of yours that have completly torture me since the first time I saw you 3 months ago.
I am sure that you will have no idea of who am I, but let me tell you that today when I needed it the most, you just console my heart by being here, eating across my table, laughing and smiling without even noticing me.

Thank you for making this lunch the tonic that I needed to turn upside down this horrendous day.

Yes, those were the days of a young woman that no longer exist.

Atún

Sin darme mayor permiso y con el hueco que dejo mi hermana luego de estar conmigo un mes completo, entré a la página que @largoL me recomendó para comprar cosas colombianas, e hice mi primer mercado basado netamente en el antojo visceral y obsesivo que tengo de comer atun van camps con arroz, arepas con hogao y cafe colombiano.

No voy a decir cuanto me costó, si mencionaré que fué barato basado en la necesidad que tengo de comer algo que bien podría salvarme dolores de cabeza y ayudarme a tomar mejores decisiones.

El atun Van Camps tiene historia conmigo, mucha. Me sabe a cordura, a un alivio enorme de que mejores tiempos se atisban, que todo sufrimiento no es para siempre y que siempre hay opción frente a las adversidades.

Cuando estaba en mi semstre de Anatomía, el grado de asco que desarrolle fué muy interesante, podía trabajar con cadaveres sin mayor problema y hablar de comida y de organos al tiempo de la disección, pero a la hora de comer, palidecia frente a cualquier cosa que me pusieran en frente y me rehusaba a comer. Todo me parecia cadaver. Menos el atún.

Mi mamá estuvo al borde del desespero y casi compra una caja completa de atún van camps para que yo tuviera que comer y a pesar de que a veces lograba hacerme comer algo diferente, yo lo único que quería era atun con arroz y limón.
Eso y empaquetados fueron mi sustento durante todo el semestre. Bueno eso y los abrazos de mi mamá.
Fué un semestre académica y emocionalmente duro y fué la primera vez que me desmayé en circunstancias diferentes a donar sangre.

No estoy afrontando malos tiempos técnicamente hablando, pero si necesito tomar decisiones y el periodo de análisis está poniendose duro. Si no somos técnicos si podría decirse que son malos tiempos. Pero todo esto no va a durar para siempre, porque UPS existe y ya tengo tracking number.
Las 8 latas de atun que pedí llegan el miercoles.

Paperman

"Richard regarded his solitude as something sacred as a well earned badge of honor, a cloak to be worn to ward off life. As his safety. Solitude is who he was. This caused those in his life to view him with a barely veiled contempt. Richard was certain that he was not liked. Which is hard on a man. Maybe it was because he gave nothing that he received nothing in return. In any case, his situation had become intolerable. The closest things he had to friends were either imaginary or extinct. And Richard had reached a point of life where this was no longer enough. And then met a girl... And she was warm. And she was sad. And she was maybe lonely in a way that reminded him of himself. She'd lost things that a girl should never have lost. And she knew things. And she taught him. And Richard thought: "Maybe this is what friendship feels like. Maybe." It was just a glimpse, they'd barely begun, really. But in those long, few winter days, she'd given him so much. Enough so that Richard could go on. And what had he given her? Just a few words on a page. Not much, perhaps. But for Abby, he hoped it was enough"