Wednesday, February 18, 2009

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prohibited
" What is truly important?, seek response within me, and I is so hard to find. False ideas
invade my mind, used to mask what you do not understand, dazed in a surreal world of illusions, where the vanity, fear, wealth, violence, hatred, indifference, become beloved heroes, no I am surprised that there is such confusion, such remoteness all, so much disappointment!.
ask me how to be happy, how among so many lies can one live, everyone is who has to answer, but for me here, now and forever mourn
prohibited without learning, wake up one day not knowing what do, be afraid of my memories, feeling only a time.
is forbidden not to smile at problems, not fighting for what I want, leave everything to fear, not to make my dreams come true.
is forbidden not to show my love, do you pay my doubts and my bad mood, invent things that never happened, remember you only when I have you.
is forbidden to leave my friends, do not try to understand what we live, call them only when I need them, not seeing that we are also different.
is forbidden not to be me before the people, pretend to people that I care about, me being funny as long as I remember, forget all those who love me.
is forbidden not to do things for myself, I believe in my God and find my destiny, be afraid of life and their punishments, not to live each day as if it were a ghost.
is prohibited without cheer miss you, hate the moments that made me love you, all because our roads are no longer embraced, to forget our past and pay with our present.
is forbidden not to try to understand people thinking that their lives are worth more than mine, not knowing that everyone has his way and that, feeling that his missing the world ends.
is forbidden not to create my story, stop to thank my family for my life, I have a moment for people who need me, do not understand what life gives us, we also remove it. Alfredo Cuervo Barrero

What Is Satanic Mantra Yahoo

and I forgot THAT WAS OUR ANNIVERSARY, AND THE BIRTHDAY OF MY SUEGRO.Felicidades. 14 years and sumando.Papá David. NEW ETAPA.Heladería-bar

Today is not S. Valentin, nor those bagpipes, is the day of love in this Republic Feliz.
Fourteen years of love and commitment that we will see next month reaffirmed in May, new life.
We have taken many turns in the past 14 years together:

and our penultimate adventure



and what legacy we will leave, to see if we all got to change that.




Monday, February 16, 2009

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Every February 14 battalion lovers worldwide pay homage to the object of their desires with gifts, praise or outputs, to celebrate what for years was known as "Valentine's Day."
But the origin of this festival is as dubious as they can be sometimes matters of the heart.
In the lists of Christian martyrs are at least three saints named Valentine, and there is no certainty about the existence of any of them. Having a day to celebrate love and its players may have a history in ancient Rome and its festivals Lupercalia, in honor of the pagan rituals Luperco Fauno (Lupus means "wolf") that protected the shepherds and is also associated with fertility. So by the end of V century AD Pope Gelasius I summarized the legends that circulated Valentine appropriated the tradition of instituting Lupercalia on February 14 as Valentine's Day. Centuries later, in 1969, was the same church that no longer hold this event because they have no positive data on the saint in question. Either way it
proven fact that people live in love and that love is one of the great motors that move the world. No longer encouraged to devote at least one day a year to celebrate the feeling. Every story
may hold a love story. It can be a great love, a very small and fleeting love a love that could never be. To celebrate, we also love in the day we leave you two simple love stories. MDS


A DUST AND LOVE

Monday was a rainy and cold. Like every morning, I left my house heading to school, walking alongside my brother. Less than two blocks away, we met another couple of brothers, wife and son, who joined our slow journey to school. The four were moderately friends, I most partner of the boys, with whom he played football on the pitch of the lot next door. Like the morning walk was pleasant and had spent ten blocks as a sigh.
But this morning things would not be as usual. The Green High Street and at that time were flooded with a modest rain, flooded talk about what they could get to be if a storm was raging. Tradition was almost removed the shoes to cross the iron, pants uploaded to the knees. But this morning, again, the rain was rarely kind and allowed us to be dodging puddles with just a little stretch and jump the same. At La Posta, we ran into a huge puddle this time of clay. My brother, always agile, crossed straight face and from the path of the classic neighborhood pharmacy harangued me to jump early to meet him. I was measuring the length of my legs to successfully perform the pirouette when I was high in the air, by a force that stood behind me, like a boyfriend who joins his new wife on the eve of the brand new love nest. My improvised Prince (whom I will not mention because I believe still lives in the area) I woke up in his arms, to make me overcome this obstacle for me seemed impossible. What was he sure did not calculate the weight of an almost nine year old girl developed would be too to the forces of a skinny boy of eleven, and after trying to jump start triumphant I slipped from her arms to a sitting position in the queue through the mud. My white overalls leather seemed a Dalmatian, my pride had been buried under the last drop of pond and my brother threw Cruella Deville type laughter to hear my Savior say frustrated "Hit me, because your sister threw the mud."
This is the first love of my life, the story of a love that was perhaps the parable of the blunders that followed non-stop happening until many years later, it was my true prince, who shares Now my days and my nights, the father of my daughters, as among our top friends enjoy telling stories, laughing, "I to you brought you out of clay." Mariana de los Santos


SUMMER LOVE, LIFE


When I was little I thought my great love living in a wheel with of Cordoba, right there in my neighborhood, very close my house. Even encouraged me to fantasize that our fates would cross the Avenida Núñez a Sunday afternoon, I divine, the beautiful and would live together happily ever after.
The truth is that neither thought of this when one day the end of January, my dad suggested we go on vacation to Mar del Plata, all together, FAMILION, with little money, of course. I was eighteen and never before had passed my vacation so far and so far had seen no more swell than the Suquía river in flood.
The plan-adventure was unanimously accepted and we started to Mar del Plata. We were a large group and complex, one of those families that psychologists today do not hesitate to tick as "dysfunctional." But nice. After the first emotions
, the encounter with the sea and the logical problems of coexistence was possible go into the Mar del Plata area of \u200b\u200bthe night.
was February, it was Sunday (an insignificant detail, just anecdotal because it is already known on vacation every day is Saturday or Sunday) and I moved my anatomy in a dance of the coast. A thousand times, to believe it, and repeated what he had heard that "the love of your life is not going to meet in a bowling alley." Myth One down, there he was, with incredible green eyes, inviting me to dance.
The following days were as extracted from a Disney movie, the kind in which the end the prince kisses the princess. What theme: the first kiss. And I did not want that to be the end but just the opposite.
was not yet fashionable to celebrate the day of love but a romantic light reading as I never could escape me that detail. And, of course, did everything possible to stretch the time for that first kiss came in the middle of San Valentin.
and arrived just as things get good. And at first followed by others, tinged with thousands of words, seeing, touching and part of an amazing summer. So simple was that I fell madly in a foreign prince! Around Cordoba
was not easy because we all know by heart that the distance romances do not work. Second myth demolished: seven years of letters, short short visits, meetings idyllic and millions of pesos invested in telephone bills finally crowned as God commands, I white, it's strict smoking in a church in Cordoba, close to my mother's house, though.

of all this is a long time ... And here we are very happy both with our children enjoying the summer at our house a few blocks from the sea as we prepare to celebrate another anniversary of the first kiss.

(Sometimes, just sometimes, I can not wait as flood Suquía. Especially in times of flood.)


SPECIAL THANKS TO MARIANA DE LOS SANTOS.
PUBLISHED IN JOURNAL IMPRONTA, CORDOBA, FEBRUARY 2008.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

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Tere


The decision is made. After wandering on the labor market return.

In the month of June we returned to our home "Gelato Tere" for those who do not know say they are 22 years in the same place in Vicar, in the "bulebar" on rotoda water, or as all the familiar "drop."

2 years ago that we take sabbaticals of our business, and ordered that as leader has been seen by Trini, and return to the same illusions as always.
Our mission, as we continue to provide breakfast doing for 22 years.