<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305</id><updated>2011-12-11T22:29:44.237+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Café o Té Breakfast</title><subtitle type='html'>Con azúcar, sin azúcar, con leche, solo, agridulce... English... Españó... Nuestro lugar.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-5922927329271309150</id><published>2010-02-21T22:08:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T22:25:28.370+01:00</updated><title type='text'>De vuelta...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/S4GiuZABmyI/AAAAAAAAAS4/tGQvGQ85LSE/s1600-h/4376290645_470b55cf03_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;¡Cuánto tiempo!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cuánto tiempo sin postear y estar un poco al tanto de este blog. Sin embargo, no estamos perdiendo el tiempo. Me gustaría comentaros que la vida sigue y también seguimos nosotros, intentando exprimirle el jugo y llevarnos cada día a dormir un montón de enseñanzas y satisfacciones. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Con mucho gusto os presento el flickr de Rich... No os lo perdáis si sois amantes de la fotografía, tanto de estudio como de calle. No es el amor el único que me hace decir estas palabras... :-P De forma objetiva, él es un gran fotógrafo. Observar y observar y después, regalarnos en forma de imágenes unas cuantas historias cotidianas, leyendas absurdas, personajes extraordinarios y formas armoniosas...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No dejéis de visitarlo en http://www.flickr.com/photos/piggbox : &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/S4GiuZABmyI/AAAAAAAAAS4/tGQvGQ85LSE/s320/4376290645_470b55cf03_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440808742708943650" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;He aquí una muestra... su foto más reciente "My hands are kind hands". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;Por mi parte, me redirecciono de nuevo a "colorear"... Este año, después de muchos cambios en lo laboral y de tener algún tiempo libre para pensar qué quería hacer, pensé que ya era mayorcita como para tener narices y atreverme a jugar como cuando era pequeña... ¿Paradojas? No sé, pero  me siento muy a gusto con este camino que he elegido. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;Estudio, practico y espero convertirme en una artista del maquillaje. Mi límite es el único que me pongo yo... Quizá esa es la más valiosa lección que me trajo 2009. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;También tengo un flickr, del que os dejo esta muestra:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sandra_the_cat/3799028534/" title="MissGataMakeUp por MissGataMakeUp, en Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3510/3799028534_323da673bf_m.jpg" width="240" height="179" alt="MissGataMakeUp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pero quizá el mayor avance es el atreverme a hacerlo en vídeos para todos. Podéis ver mi canal aquí:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/missgatamakeup"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/missgatamakeup&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;¡Es genial estar de vuelta, aunque nunca nos fuimos! ;-) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-5922927329271309150?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/5922927329271309150/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=5922927329271309150' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/5922927329271309150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/5922927329271309150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2010/02/de-vuelta.html' title='De vuelta...'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/S4GiuZABmyI/AAAAAAAAAS4/tGQvGQ85LSE/s72-c/4376290645_470b55cf03_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-9205004795566607908</id><published>2008-09-05T12:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T12:05:40.377+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Morning Simphony</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); margin: 0pt 0pt 0pt 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"&gt; &lt;blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); margin: 0pt 0pt 0pt 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); margin: 0pt 0pt 0pt 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sunday Morning Simphony&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the aroma of coffee  &lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;my rimmel on your pillow,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Ih2E3d"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;the neighbourhood birds singing&lt;br /&gt;as they steal the shiny buttons from your shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A glass of water&lt;br /&gt;followed by a hot shower,&lt;br /&gt;yawning in my ear "i love you"&lt;br /&gt;your finger sliding down my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English breakfast tea,&lt;br /&gt;deeper breathing, eyes fuill of sun &amp;amp; blinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You belong to me,&lt;br /&gt;since you started to dance with me&lt;br /&gt;our sunday morning symphony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirty dishes, wasted candles,&lt;br /&gt;broken lipstick, messy clothes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="Ih2E3d"&gt; red kisses on your chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Love sighs of the night before,&lt;br /&gt;and we still can hear Prince singing.&lt;div class="Ih2E3d"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No desire to look for you&lt;br /&gt;since you are inside of me.&lt;br /&gt;We are still drinking the same tea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;and yawning our love song,&lt;br /&gt;our sunday morning symphony.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-9205004795566607908?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/9205004795566607908/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=9205004795566607908' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/9205004795566607908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/9205004795566607908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/09/sunday-morning-simphony.html' title='Sunday Morning Simphony'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-1171022263584662753</id><published>2008-07-02T00:52:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T00:54:53.161+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Aseos en Badajoz - [Badger Bogs]</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dOwmQYg1QWA/SGq1fq-1YFI/AAAAAAAAAAU/eYD3AlEF0tk/s1600-h/badger_bog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218182673980547154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dOwmQYg1QWA/SGq1fq-1YFI/AAAAAAAAAAU/eYD3AlEF0tk/s400/badger_bog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-1171022263584662753?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/1171022263584662753/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=1171022263584662753' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/1171022263584662753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/1171022263584662753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/07/aseos-en-badajoz-badger-bogs.html' title='Aseos en Badajoz - [Badger Bogs]'/><author><name>PiggBox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13668186744632329583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dOwmQYg1QWA/SGq1fq-1YFI/AAAAAAAAAAU/eYD3AlEF0tk/s72-c/badger_bog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-4509079895111164567</id><published>2008-06-26T11:41:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T11:44:59.855+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Justo Aqúi - [I'm Right Here]</title><content type='html'>Justo Aquí&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Él no era mi padre, de hecho, no era ningún pariente de sangre en absoluto.&lt;br /&gt;Aún así, me trató como un hijo y yo lo quise como a un padre.&lt;br /&gt;“La vida sigue”. “Todo sigue igual”. Dicen todos.&lt;br /&gt;Y algunas cosas no cambian en absoluto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No cambia el mismo tipo gordo que lleva demasiado desodorante sentado junto delante de mí en el bus cada mañana, no cambia la misma media docena de canciones que rotan en la radio, no cambian el sol, la luna, el cielo ni el aire. Todo sigue igual, pero ¿y las otras cosas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Las lonchas de Pata Negra, una botella de Rioja bien escogida, un queso tibio, sabores  que solían bailar y cantar en mi boca, que tragaba y saboreaba con placer ¿Ahora? Ahora son duros y pesados, golpean y arañan mi lengua, sangro y cicatrizo. Estas cosas nunca volverán a ser iguales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando perdemos a alguien, se forma un hoyo dentro de nosotros, un abismo que no podrá ser llenado. Tengo dos ahora, uno por Mazza y otro por Vicente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos convencemos a nosotros mismos de que el dolor que sentimos remitirá, se reducirá, pero la verdad es que no lo hace. El dolor vuelve a veces con el verso de una canción, el párrafo de un libro o un desconocido en la calle. Creo que hay una razón de que estos flashes de recuerdos, sin sentido aparente,  nos golpeen por sorpresa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son ellos, rodeándonos con sus brazos, con un beso en la frente y secando nuestras lágrimas, con una mano en nuestros corazones, susurran:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Todo va bien, estoy aquí. ¡Estoy justo aquí!”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Right Here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wasn’t my Dad; in fact he wasn’t a blood relative at all.&lt;br /&gt;Yet he treated me like a son and I loved him as a Father.&lt;br /&gt;“Life goes on”. “Things stay the same” they all said&lt;br /&gt;And some things don’t change at all&lt;br /&gt;Its still the same fat guy wearing too much deodorant sitting in front of me on the bus every morning, it’s the same half a dozen songs on rotation on the radio, still the same sun, moon, sky and air. They have all stayed the same, but other things?&lt;br /&gt;Slices of Pata Negra, a well selected bottle of Rioja, a warm sweaty cheese these flavours used to dance and sing around my mouth and I would quaff and gorge on them with glee&lt;br /&gt;But now? Now they are heavy and they punch &amp;amp; scratch at my tongue, I bleed and scar.&lt;br /&gt;Those things will never be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we lose someone we develop a hole inside of us a gaping gorge that cannot be filled. I have two of these now, one for Mazza and one for Vicente.&lt;br /&gt;We all convince ourselves that the pain we feel will subside, or reduce but the truth is it doesn’t. It’s the same pain and it is always there only the grip it once consumed us with loosens. The pain often returns with the line in a song, a paragraph in a book or stranger on the street. I believe there is a reason these unrelated flashes of remembrance hit us by surprise. It’s them, wrapping us up in their arms with a kiss on the forehead and brushing away our tears then with a hand on our hearts they whisper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Its OK, I’m right here. I…. AM…. RIGHT…. HERE!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-4509079895111164567?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/4509079895111164567/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=4509079895111164567' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4509079895111164567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4509079895111164567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/06/justo-aqi-im-right-here.html' title='Justo Aqúi - [I&apos;m Right Here]'/><author><name>PiggBox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13668186744632329583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-8444217720846593193</id><published>2008-06-05T01:12:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T01:13:11.602+02:00</updated><title type='text'>PiggBox - New Web Site [Nuevo Pagina de Red]</title><content type='html'>www.piggbox.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-8444217720846593193?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/8444217720846593193/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=8444217720846593193' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8444217720846593193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8444217720846593193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/06/piggbox-new-web-site-nuevo-pagina-de.html' title='PiggBox - New Web Site [Nuevo Pagina de Red]'/><author><name>PiggBox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13668186744632329583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-1540724657063379971</id><published>2008-05-07T14:22:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T20:07:35.230+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking at the same place</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/SCGfrjCCYZI/AAAAAAAAAJs/srtCi2Gm1T8/s1600-h/busstop.jpg"&gt;Looking at the same place&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/SCGfrjCCYZI/AAAAAAAAAJs/srtCi2Gm1T8/s320/busstop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197611015449239954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunshine in the horizon, I can see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no distance  between you and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the ocean used to be, now it's you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only then I could see,&lt;br /&gt;If only then I could believe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my faith which brought me here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was our love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was your eyes, and that sun, on the horizon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-1540724657063379971?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/1540724657063379971/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=1540724657063379971' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/1540724657063379971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/1540724657063379971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/05/looking-at-same-place.html' title='Looking at the same place'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/SCGfrjCCYZI/AAAAAAAAAJs/srtCi2Gm1T8/s72-c/busstop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-9086985714868992500</id><published>2008-04-22T14:03:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T14:07:34.776+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Prince - Dirty Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://es.geocities.com/wondermusicweb/photogallery/prince1981.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c375/tmckenz/prince.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c375/tmckenz/prince.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1980 was a new decade of decadence and greed, it was time for a new kind of music too, and who better to show it to the world than Prince.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On his previous 2 albums Prince was a one-man funky soul singer songwriter genius with great songs and great musicianship. But his music &amp;amp; lyrics where about to change forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story goes that when Prince delivered the finished version of "Dirty Mind' to the executives at Warner Bros they didn't like, or approve, of what they heard one bit and wanted him to change the lyrics. But Prince, being Prince, an advocate of freedom of speech refused to change a word of it and if they still refused to release it then he would simply no longer continue his career as a recording artist for them. Backed into a corner, Warner Bros. had no choice but to release the album as it was. A hint of what was to come in the future too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dirty Mind' as an album clearly stands out form all other funk /soul r&amp;amp;b albums of the 80's, by the likes of say Cameo or Rick James, due to its unique post punk sparse production. From the hypnotic pulse of the opening title track to the repeated chanting at the end of the albums closer, Party Up, this album is sexier, dirtier and more politically aware than either of his 1st two offerings &amp;amp; for the first time he bridged the gap of alternative "white' music and "black' funk as he proclaimed lyrically in "Uptown" "White, Black, Puerto Rican, Everybody just a-freakin' this entire album encapsulates not only the music but the sentiment that we know now as the "Minneapolis sound"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like most of Prince's albums the title track is also the album opener and what an opener it is. "Dirty Mind' set's out the stall of this album quite nicely, it lets U know instantly that this isn't going to be just any basic run of the mill standard soul / funk album that U would get should U have picked up an album by Alexander O'Neil or any other of Prince's contemporaries but then the album cover and title should have told U that anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The album deals with sex in a frank, open and ultimately humorous way, even though the song "Sister' would have had the conservatives and the prudes tearing their hair out in disbelief, to me it can only be listened to with ones tongue firmly in ones cheek, even "Head' is full of Prince's great humour "U know U're good, girl, I think U like 2 go down, U wouldn't have stopped but ah...I came on your wedding gown' simply genius.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The songs "When U where mine" is arguably the albums catchiest and most radio friendly, a straight forward new wave pop track about a guy wanting his ex back, there have been a countless number of songs on this matter but none so breathtakingly simple yet complex.&lt;br /&gt;"Gotta Broken Heart Again" another awesome track with superbly simple arrangement that compliment his heart breaking falsetto which is used to it's most supreme, I can easily imagine this track being ruined by any other soul artist with huge string arrangements and masturbatory vocal enhancements, Prince got it right when he did it with refined beauty &amp;amp; simplicity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 3 tracks which define the whole feel &amp;amp; point of the album to me, they are the title track, "Uptown' &amp;amp; " Party Up' sonically they are just nasty dirty spaced out funk that gets inside of your head and infects you and although light and sparse in arrangements, especially on the track "Dirty Mind', the funk is so embedded in them that you have got to get on down!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 13 when I got this album in 1983 and I had no idea what "Head' was, I knew what a blow job was, but to call that "Head' was alien to me and I am sure that if my Mom had of known what I was screaming along to from my bed room she wouldn't have been too pleased, so I guess you could say, in a crude simplistic way, that this album educated me sexually, politically and emotionally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love this album dearly everything about it; the music and the evil pixies image that went with it. Apparently it didn't sell too well at the time of its release but I feel this album is everything that Prince is about, great songs that hit U full on when U hear them and an image that no one else on the planet could pull of without looking ridiculous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are three words that are the key to describing "Dirty Mind' and they are:Simple, Nasty &amp;amp; Funky&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-9086985714868992500?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/9086985714868992500/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=9086985714868992500' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/9086985714868992500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/9086985714868992500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/04/prince-dirty-mind.html' title='Prince - Dirty Mind'/><author><name>PiggBox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13668186744632329583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-909044632458273070</id><published>2008-04-17T14:33:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T19:12:00.069+02:00</updated><title type='text'>La Magia del Cambio - The Magic of Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/SAdHbY_09iI/AAAAAAAAAJk/UItqinNWN1Y/s1600-h/change.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/SAdHbY_09iI/AAAAAAAAAJk/UItqinNWN1Y/s320/change.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190195631459989026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sucede todos los días... Se trata del cambio. Sucede todos los días, pero no somos conscientes de ello hasta que no sucede uno grande. Un cambio grande, como por ejemplo, de casa, ciudad y trabajo, como el que he hecho en las últimas semanas. El cambio te despierta, te energiza y te agota antes de acostarte, para que duermas bien. ¿No lo has notado? Cuando por fin decides hacer un cambio, whatever it is, you feel that you can accomplish anything, that everything is in your hand, so easy to take. Then, you feel powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But changes happen all the time, with every second. Everytime I type a letter on this keyboard, everytime I take a breath. There are changes in every moment, and every moment is now. For example, this moment is totally different to the moment that you read "Sucede todos los días" at the beginning of this entry. No es necesario cambiar de casa, de ciudad, de trabajo, para darse cuenta de que cada segundo encierra la posibilidad del cambio. De ser diferentes. De intentar otras cosas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are changing now. And now... And now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it is time to forget the sentence: "Yesterday was just like Today", as in its essence, that is simply not possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Photograph by PiggBox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-909044632458273070?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/909044632458273070/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=909044632458273070' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/909044632458273070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/909044632458273070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/04/la-magia-del-cambio.html' title='La Magia del Cambio - The Magic of Change'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/SAdHbY_09iI/AAAAAAAAAJk/UItqinNWN1Y/s72-c/change.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-4676251148479355031</id><published>2008-03-30T11:31:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T12:13:52.492+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking Tea o Té para Pensar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tengo una costumbre. Bebo té para pensar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No importa que tipo de té sea, aunque ahora sea English Breakfast -by the way, one of the best teas in the world. The warm liquid comes inside and calms everything. Suddenly, silence is the owner of my mind and I feel like there is no sound surround me. No noises, neither outside nor inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El olor del té entra por la nariz y se queda pegado a los poros, cosquillea por la boca. El agua, tintada por el color de turno (hoy marrón oscuro), comienza a formar extraños dibujos. Y se produce el trance: ¡todo es más claro de repente!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see nothing more than my feelings and thoughts, so I have come to the idea that tea is the key to go to somewhere else inside of me. Y todo el mundo tiene una. You just have to find it... It could be painting, sewing, travelling, listening to music, walking for long or just... breathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es una puerta que sólo se abre hacia dentro, hacia uno mismo, quizá la única persona que nos olvidamos a veces de visitar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-4676251148479355031?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/4676251148479355031/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=4676251148479355031' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4676251148479355031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4676251148479355031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/03/thinking-tea-o-t-para-pensar.html' title='Thinking Tea o Té para Pensar'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-7541763946494376322</id><published>2008-03-25T21:16:00.012+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T22:27:58.399+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"Bye Bye Badajoz"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R-uW5H1y2sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/TJW_V-EEE24/s1600-h/20012008457.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182401704321276610" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R-uW5H1y2sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/TJW_V-EEE24/s320/20012008457.jpg" border="0" height="188" width="255" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bye, bye, Badajoz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sounds like an old sad story, a blues song maybe?, but it is not. It is a tale of hopes and dreams coming true. It seems that I am going away from the city of my birth to the city of my dreams. Eso no significa que Badajoz sea menos, que se le quiera menos, porque no es así... Y a medida que se acerca el día de marchar, aprendo a respirar el aire de otra manera, supongo que para poder compararlo con el de allí.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hello, Madrid.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a major step my life. A wish I have whispered and spoke out loud to myself a million times [I want to live in Madrid, I want to live in Madrid]. I think I am actually crossing a frontier, and growing a couple of inches. Sobre todo el cuello, que tengo que estirar mucho para no perder de vista la Alcazaba y, con ella, el recuerdo de todos y cada uno de mis amigos. De mi familia. De todo lo que aprendí. De lo que "desaprendí". Things and people I have lost. Things and people that I will never lose. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I know I am not going to the other end of the world, but to me it is like a rebirth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Life is full of surprises y tesoros por descubrir.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Photograph by PiggBox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-7541763946494376322?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/7541763946494376322/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=7541763946494376322' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/7541763946494376322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/7541763946494376322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/03/bye-bye-badajoz.html' title='&quot;Bye Bye Badajoz&quot;'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R-uW5H1y2sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/TJW_V-EEE24/s72-c/20012008457.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-8999987141313234690</id><published>2008-03-10T12:41:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T13:42:00.957+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi hogar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R9UsWZo2wRI/AAAAAAAAAJU/gks_dJ4JpBg/s1600-h/loversblog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176092110083244306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R9UsWZo2wRI/AAAAAAAAAJU/gks_dJ4JpBg/s320/loversblog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R9UpkZo2wQI/AAAAAAAAAJM/WdJIcjQF6mA/s1600-h/loversblog.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I just feel home when you are by my side. It does not matter where I am... I am just there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No time, no space, nothing. And all at the same time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You are home. The place I belong to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R9UpkZo2wQI/AAAAAAAAAJM/WdJIcjQF6mA/s1600-h/loversblog.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-8999987141313234690?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/8999987141313234690/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=8999987141313234690' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8999987141313234690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8999987141313234690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/03/mi-hogar.html' title='Mi hogar'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R9UsWZo2wRI/AAAAAAAAAJU/gks_dJ4JpBg/s72-c/loversblog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-1460769603194348838</id><published>2008-03-01T18:04:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T18:11:25.823+01:00</updated><title type='text'>(Badgers Witch) - (La Bruja de Badajoz)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dOwmQYg1QWA/R8mNTtO4Y1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/bPwxMpP5zeM/s1600-h/two.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172821016710767442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dOwmQYg1QWA/R8mNTtO4Y1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/bPwxMpP5zeM/s320/two.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I love the way your entire body smiles when you see me for the 1st time after afew days a part,.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you whisper "bye" on the telephone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you can embrace me with your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love your calmness and your chaos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but most of all ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-1460769603194348838?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/1460769603194348838/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=1460769603194348838' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/1460769603194348838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/1460769603194348838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/03/badgers-witch-la-bruja-de-badajoz.html' title='(Badgers Witch) - (La Bruja de Badajoz)'/><author><name>PiggBox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13668186744632329583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dOwmQYg1QWA/R8mNTtO4Y1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/bPwxMpP5zeM/s72-c/two.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-646113545552534186</id><published>2008-02-29T13:42:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T15:54:44.940+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Marah o el romanticismo del rock</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.elpais.com/"&gt;www.elpais.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A estas alturas, la llama del rock no se aviva con salvapatrias musicales ni peleles diseñados por promotores de grandes compañías discográficas, pero sí con bandas como Marah, que ayer tocaron en la sala Joy Eslava de Madrid dentro de su gira por distintas ciudades por España.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/marah_joy/?action=view&amp;amp;current=27022008605.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/marah_joy/27022008605.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Empieza a ser habitual ver al grupo de estos dos hermanos, Serge y David Bielanko, por varias ciudades de nuestra geografía, como comienza a ser normal que su creciente legión de seguidores españoles agote los calificativos después de cada una de sus entregadas actuaciones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bien es cierto que no han inventado nada nuevo ni tienen auras de superestrellas, pero Marah ofrecen de manera exuberante algunas de las reglas básicas de este oficio: creerse lo que hacen y hacer disfrutar al resto con ello. Y lo que hacen es rock festivo, en el corte más clásico del término, donde se mezcla country-folk desinhibido con el legado más desenfadado del rock'n'roll norteamericano de la Costa Este, especialmente de representantes como Bruce Springsteen, uno de los padrinos musicales más importantes de la banda. Y, como Springsteen, se ganan a pulso y con sudor los aplausos en sus conciertos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/marah_joy/?action=view&amp;amp;current=27022008622.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/marah_joy/27022008622.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La renovada formación de los Bielanko saltó al escenario de Joy Eslava al ritmo de la conocida sintonía de Rocky, que más allá de la extravagancia también fue un guiño a su tierra. Serge y David se criaron, como el boxeador de la pantalla, en un suburbio de Filadelfia. A raíz de eso, Marah golpearon fuerte, tanto por un sonido sobrado de decibelios, que terminó ajustándose, como por un repertorio enérgico, donde destacó en una primera tanda Angels on a Passing Train, un ejemplo perfecto del romanticismo callejero de sus mejores composiciones, que combinan retratos urbanos de EE UU con aires de rock'n'roll sentimental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/marah_joy/?action=view&amp;amp;current=27022008611.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/marah_joy/27022008611.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para los premios de los Oscar, escribía Carlos Boyero que los hermanos Coen eran chicos radicales y gamberros que jamás hacen películas pensando prioritariamente en los sagrados beneficios económicos. Tal vez, se puede afirmar que la música también tiene a sus Coen en los hermanos Bielanko. Aunque todavía sin ningún reconocimiento de tal envergadura, expresan la visión romántica e irreverente por la música como los otros por el cine. Como las películas de los Coen, las canciones de Marah son juguetes, piezas sin muchas pretensiones, que pueden volverse disparatadas y hacerte pasar un rato inolvidable. Temas como Wilderness o Old Time Ticki' Hawai marcan la pauta de ese torbellino de instrumentos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Algo parecido sucedió con el famoso New York, New York. La exquisita versión de Frank Sinatra pasó por manos de los Bielanko y el resto de su banda para convertirse en una canción de rock vagabundo, entre armónica y órgano, con el destacado trabajo de Christine Smith, reciente incorporación del grupo a las teclas y que aporta una nueva escala de matices. Antes, entre sus medios tiempos más emotivos, dedicaron City of Dreams a la ciudad de Madrid.&lt;br /&gt;Los bises estuvieron protagonizados por el esperadísimo Sooner or later, que levantó aún más coros y palmas en una audiencia rendida a una actuación que no tuvo descanso. Y se confirmaba una cosa. El mejor destino de Marah, y el de sus seguidores, es que sigan haciendo lo mismo: declararle su amor apasionado a la música.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/marah_joy/?action=view&amp;amp;current=27022008635.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/marah_joy/27022008635.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-646113545552534186?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/646113545552534186/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=646113545552534186' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/646113545552534186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/646113545552534186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/marah-o-el-romanticismo-del-rock.html' title='Marah o el romanticismo del rock'/><author><name>PiggBox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13668186744632329583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-441923451714399463</id><published>2008-02-26T14:53:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T10:34:59.019+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Dreaming and Reality</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R8UupJdQk4I/AAAAAAAAAI4/kniSm1r5RCA/s1600-h/daydreaming.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171591031553037186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R8UupJdQk4I/AAAAAAAAAI4/kniSm1r5RCA/s320/daydreaming.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We humans love day dreaming. Some more than others, I personally do. A lot. It happens to me when I am travelling for example. It is that time you cannot do anything except that. On the bus, on the plane or just walking alone: I love the fact of just feeling the wind in my face, imagining the scenes I want to see in real life, living again the sweet moments I have experienced... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Pero la verdad es que lo hacemos por algo. Creo en la magia de la imaginación, porque es en estos momentos relajados, cuando las grandes ideas, los grandes proyectos, o un simple detalle que puedes tener con alguien y significar, finalmente, un mundo, vienen a la mente. Es cuando nos relajamos lo suficiente para escucharnos, es cuando recibimos los mensajes que provienen de dentro de nosotros y no de los bombardeos continuos de los demás y sus convenciones, de los medios de comunicación intentando crearte deseos falsos para su propio interés...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Try, have a walk. Imagine. Live again good moments. Set yourself in a wonderful feeling of good emotions. See your goals acomplished. See the person you love besides you, even if he/she is miles away. &lt;strong&gt;And connect with your soul.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-441923451714399463?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/441923451714399463/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=441923451714399463' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/441923451714399463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/441923451714399463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/day-dreaming-and-reality.html' title='Day Dreaming and Reality'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R8UupJdQk4I/AAAAAAAAAI4/kniSm1r5RCA/s72-c/daydreaming.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-8420621562248076294</id><published>2008-02-21T23:28:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T23:34:32.474+01:00</updated><title type='text'>(Mind The Gap) - (Ten cuidado con el hueco)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/?action=view&amp;amp;current=22082007096.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/22082007096.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/?action=view&amp;amp;current=platformblurr_day27.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/platformblurr_day27.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-8420621562248076294?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/8420621562248076294/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=8420621562248076294' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8420621562248076294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8420621562248076294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/mind-gap-ten-cuidado-con-el-hueco.html' title='(Mind The Gap) - (Ten cuidado con el hueco)'/><author><name>PiggBox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13668186744632329583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-7809685493433716496</id><published>2008-02-20T07:55:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T23:56:17.496+01:00</updated><title type='text'>El Hueco entre el Metro y el Andén y Otros Miedos Irracionales.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Soy de la opinión de que el miedo es una de las cosas más inútiles, paralizantes y absurdas del mundo. El tiempo de vida es efímero y tenemos una especie de contador interno que se reduce al paso, ¿por qué tener miedo entonces? ¿Tiene acaso algún sentido? O quizá sea porque a veces somos someramente conscientes de nuestra brevedad y es por eso que nos encerramos en el miedo... And no, it has no sense at all either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today I do not want to talk about real fears, I want to write about those irrational fears we have, with no sense at all, not based in our own experiences. I want to talk then, about my favourite fear: the hole between the metro and the platform. There is no way you can get trapped in there, NO WAY, so why the hell am I afraid of falling and being trapped forever? Everytime I get on or off the metro I am very causcious so as not to fall, suddenly, into that giant gaping "huge" gorge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sé qué cuando leéis el párrafo anterior, la palabra que más resuena en vuestras minds es: Therapy. But os aconsejo a mirar en el interior, y a rescatar como pesadillas que son, esos pequeños miedos irracionales que tenemos todos y que nos hacen sentir estúpidos, tomando precauciones innecesarias. Todos tenemos de eso, es enfermedad común de la raza humana. Y también os animo a colgarlos como comentarios en el blog, y así hacer un "miedario irracionalus".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-7809685493433716496?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/7809685493433716496/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=7809685493433716496' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/7809685493433716496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/7809685493433716496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/el-hueco-entre-el-metro-y-el-andn-y.html' title='El Hueco entre el Metro y el Andén y Otros Miedos Irracionales.'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-8913187541693086792</id><published>2008-02-16T20:17:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T20:24:14.666+01:00</updated><title type='text'>(She never called) - (Ella nunca llamó)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/?action=view&amp;amp;current=markphone_blog.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/markphone_blog.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/Rich/?action=view&amp;amp;current=markphone.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-8913187541693086792?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/8913187541693086792/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=8913187541693086792' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8913187541693086792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8913187541693086792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/as-world-around-him-crashes-he-is-still.html' title='(She never called) - (Ella nunca llamó)'/><author><name>PiggBox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13668186744632329583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-681395255434706841</id><published>2008-02-16T09:37:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T09:57:22.746+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Incredible Importance of Saying Thanks</title><content type='html'>Suena el despertador y abres los ojos. Normalmente los seres humanos disponemos de un pilotito de alarma interior que odia los ruidos y nos hace despertarnos dos segundos antes de que suene la alarma, con el consecuente susto. ¡Cómo joroba! ¿Y qué hacemos? También consecuentes con la razón por la que programamos el despertador, lo apagamos y discretamente nos volvemos para un lado, haciendonos los swedish. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exercise 1: It is very important to open eyes and feel all the body. Stretch, smile and breathe. Now you are awake, and I really do not care if you like it or not, if you were having an amazing dream with Bardem or Pene Cruz, or maybe having a nightmare... I really do not care. Just open your eyes and feel the "awake" life. Think about the people and things you are glad of living, having, loving... Think about what you have NOW. Think about what you would like to have and say thanks like if you have them RIGHT NOW. Como si fueras a abrir la puerta del cuarto y todo estuviera ya ahí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es un pensamiento poderoso que te acerca a tus deseos y convierte el momento que todos odiamos (¡se está tan calentito!) en una lista a los Reyes Magos, Santa Claus, bruja Befana, Genio de la Lámpara, Dios, Diosa, que tenemos por ahí en el interior.  Te pone en consonancia con tus verdaderos deseos, los que te pide tu naturaleza. Te aparta de pensamientos de: God, now I have to go to work and stand the arse of my boss!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Práctica el Saying Thanks. Luego, todo va rodado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, thanks for reading this entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-681395255434706841?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/681395255434706841/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=681395255434706841' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/681395255434706841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/681395255434706841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/incredible-importance-of-saying-thanks.html' title='The Incredible Importance of Saying Thanks'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-4951784585621290323</id><published>2008-02-11T21:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T22:16:50.780+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Separando paja de grano</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O lo que es lo mismo, estableciendo prioridades, eliminando cosas que no sirven, que no tienen interés, prudencias que ya no vienen al caso... Siendo libre de nuestros yos pasados, nos podemos enfrentar frescos y ligeros -like in an ad of Ausonia or Evax- to our lives, each day. Every day we can see different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is my suggestion for today, CLEAN. Clean, quit, delete... anything that disturb you and stops you from growing, from being yourself. It is so difficult to pay attention to a thing you do not want to pay attention to. If life is so short, why would you like to spend it doing things that do not benefit you or really make you happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nosotros, los humanos, somos paradoja andante y ambulante. Temerosos del correr del tiempo, implacable, al principio, luego parecemos olvidar que esta vida se acaba. Y malgastamos un día tras otro. Mejor centrar nuestras poderosas energías en las cosas que realmente nos satisfacen. Better CLEAN, and dump all the stuff you do not want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-4951784585621290323?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/4951784585621290323/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=4951784585621290323' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4951784585621290323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4951784585621290323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/separando-paja-de-grano.html' title='Separando paja de grano'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-6632295865773025394</id><published>2008-02-08T10:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T10:51:54.441+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Picture is worth a Thousand Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/18052007133.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"A picture is worth a thousand words is a &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;proverb&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; that refers to the idea that complex stories can be described with just a single still image, or that an image may be more influential than a substantial amount of text"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am, &amp;amp; always have been, a man of few words I was drawn to visuals from a very early age, My Dad &amp;amp; eldest brother, Paul, both being photographers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember Sunday evenings, from the age of abour 8 onwards, the bathroom in our house being converted into a photographic dark room and my brother entering, some funny smells would drift form the bathroom, but different to those usually associated with Paul locking himself in there, these smells where more acidic, more hipnotic and certainly not human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He would reappear an hour or so later with some wet paper with images on them, as I got a little older he would take me in their with him and I would help him develop his exposed film into negatives and then those negatives into photographs. As a young boy this was a truly magical process, something literally appearing from nothing simply by being submerged into "water".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a magic that is now all but dead thanks to the digital age which is a shame. My 1st ever real job was working in a professional dark room for a photographer, to this day it remains my most enjoyable and spiritualy rewarding job. After a few years working there the edges of my finger nails had turned black due to constant submersion into chemicals &amp;amp; bleaches but it was well worth it for me, I loved getting my hands into the potion and teasing out certain areas in photographs.....halcion days, or rather &lt;em&gt;silver&lt;/em&gt; days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this as part of an explanation as to why my entries upon this blog have been all but non existant. I will blog with words when inspired to do so, words dont flow from me as they do from the S's in my life (Sandra &amp;amp; Sandy) but photographs do, so thanks to my Nokia camera phone nd teh digitalness which murdered the art of photography (oh the irony) I plan on posting images instead of words, maybe 1 every day, maybe 1 a week who knows!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to photograph the everyday, so many days we drift through our lives on autopiliot on our way to or from work, or to meet with friends and we walk past and ignore so much beauty that surrounds us, things we ignore because they are not presented to us as "art" in a sterile gallery space or in a magazine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some to begin with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/?action=view&amp;amp;current=18052007133.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/18052007133.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Lines.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/Lines.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/?action=view&amp;amp;current=23012008471.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/23012008471.jpg" border="0" alt="El Toro - Valdemoro" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/?action=view&amp;amp;current=23012008469.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/23012008469.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/?action=view&amp;amp;current=13112007123.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v114/lospigg/blog%20pics/13112007123.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-6632295865773025394?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/6632295865773025394/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=6632295865773025394' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/6632295865773025394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/6632295865773025394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/picture-is-worth-thousand-words.html' title='A Picture is worth a Thousand Words'/><author><name>PiggBox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13668186744632329583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-7821984655493680416</id><published>2008-02-04T09:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T21:15:08.554+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sailors, Witches, Death, Red Riding Hood, Toreros and Tio Pepe Girls</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R6dMOkHfX6I/AAAAAAAAAIg/jCe8dQYXj6E/s1600-h/las+monjas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R6dMOkHfX6I/AAAAAAAAAIg/jCe8dQYXj6E/s320/las+monjas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163179310900535202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Carnaval.&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nada es lo que parece, pero a la vez, lo es. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You become into a thing you want to be, actually, because it is funny to change your shoes for other person's. Maybe you want to show that part of your personality you don't dare to show in your everyday life. Por ejemplo, ¡necesito una excusa para ponerme una imponente delantera! Quiero vestirme de mujer sin serlo y no me atrevo en mi vida diaria. Soy adolescente y es la única forma de que mi madre me deje llevar este miniminiminifalda-cinturón sin llamarme guarra. En mi interior, llevo un asesino en serie controlado... Pues voy del tío de la Matanza de Texas, con picadora de carne incluida -vale la turbomix- y me desato un poco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Menos mal que es febrero y llegan los Carnavales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Menos mal que los Carnavales duran sólo cuatro días.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, this year I was part of the jury for the Carnival Parade. 6 hours or so watching 40 beautiful comparsas dancing, having fun, and make us enjoy the colours of their beautiful creations and the fantastic rhythm of the percussionists.  I was chosen for being a fashion designer, judging the wonderful clothes they did for the occasion. La mayoría de las comparsas que forman parte del Carnaval, lo viven de una manera intensa y apasionada, con gran rivalidad, y poniendo lo mejor de sí mismos en sus creaciones. Luego, el día del desfile, sale lo mejor y lo peor de cada uno: la ilusión y la competitividad van a la par en la carrera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ganaron "Las Monjas" de Torremegía. Fantásticos trajes. Coreografía marchosa. Alegría por doquier. ¡Y todo en medio de una lluvia...! Como que tengo fever today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nota: en la foto, "Las Monjas", comparsa ganadora del concurso de este año. Foto extraordinaria de un  extraordinario reportaje. You can find it in www.extremadura.com. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the pictures in http://www.extremadura.com/ocio/especiales/especial_album_album.vhtml/1478/262&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-7821984655493680416?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/7821984655493680416/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=7821984655493680416' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/7821984655493680416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/7821984655493680416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/sailors-witches-death-red-riding-hood.html' title='Sailors, Witches, Death, Red Riding Hood, Toreros and Tio Pepe Girls'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dR4HCJhZ5Is/R6dMOkHfX6I/AAAAAAAAAIg/jCe8dQYXj6E/s72-c/las+monjas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-4872270198314912084</id><published>2008-02-01T10:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T12:09:08.063+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Enciende una vela...</title><content type='html'>Lit a Candle... Today is the middle point of Winter, waiting for the Spring. The light on Earth starts to grow and shines strongly. And we are here, like flowers, blooming to take all the light we can with our skin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visualicemos, todo lo que está por venir en este año, metas, objetivos y personas. Sintamos, como si ya lo tuviéramos, la sensación de plenitud. Dijo no sé quien -menuda cita fidedigna- que: "Imagination is just a preview of the things that are in their way to come". I think it was Einstein, a person I like, he is nice, we go to the same hairdresser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así que enciende una vela e ilumina tus pensamientos, conviértelos en una realidad. Be yourself and spread your imagination and good feelings to everyone. When you change, and start to recognise your own light, it is very easy for others to see the difference and, at the same time, they start to treat you differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enciende tu vela interior. Es calentita, te calienta a ti, y calienta a los demás. Iluminas tus ojos e irradias hacia el exterior...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-4872270198314912084?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/4872270198314912084/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=4872270198314912084' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4872270198314912084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4872270198314912084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/02/enciende-una-vela.html' title='Enciende una vela...'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-3006115965843151922</id><published>2008-01-30T12:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T13:02:22.123+01:00</updated><title type='text'>To Work or not to Work... that is the question</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;What do you do when you are at work? Do you work or not? Do you stand seeing your work mates doing nothing and you do everything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La idiosincrasia del trabajador españó, señores... Si trabaja con ordenador, probablemente estará con el messenger. Si tiene acceso libre, estará viendo yo que sé, el CosmoHispano, a ver qué se lleva este mes. O estará jugando en línea. O estará viendo sus cosas. Or... I don't know. And I am not talking about funcionarios, because if I start to talk about them, I am not going to end...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not matter of being oppresive with employees, denying email access, messenger and all of that. I do not agree with work politics that suppress the freedom of the employee to act and use the WWW. What can we do with that? Motivation, motivation, motivation. This is the key. Although I am not sure Motivation works for spanish workers, because of la picaresca española, thing we are born with that make us to do as less as possible, to lie as much as possible, to get more than we give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y soy española. Que conste. Sólo que honestamente creo que si estamos contratados para cumplir un trabajo, pese a que no sea el trabajo de nuestros sueños, siempre podemos aprender algo, conocer a alguien interesante, agradecer nuestros recursos e imponer, por qué no, nuestra filosofía dentro de nuestras competencias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if the atmosphere at work is just horrible? You can always put a smile on your face, because you are the proprietor of the smile, and you can use it whenever you want. Do as much as you can to learn, to use this as an experience... And when you have gotten all the experience you want, or need, just tell them to Fuck Themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A veces creo que la única solución es dejar de mirar alrededor y centrarse en el propio trabajo. Hacerlo lo mejor que puedas, sin mirar lo que hacen o dejan de hacer los demás, pero por supuesto, sin hacer lo suyo. ¡Faltaría más! Porque lo de organizar, mandar, controlar, gestionar y reñir está para los jefes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And most of all do not know how to do their own job...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-3006115965843151922?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/3006115965843151922/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=3006115965843151922' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/3006115965843151922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/3006115965843151922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/01/to-work-or-not-to-work-that-is-question.html' title='To Work or not to Work... that is the question'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-8537227304309145620</id><published>2008-01-29T08:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T08:24:22.991+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Psicología Negativa o Borreguismo</title><content type='html'>I am sure you have heard this before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No hagas nada que no puedas controlar totalmente.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Be seen, but not heard.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Piensa en los demás antes que en ti mismo.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do not be known at all.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Be quiet.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sé modesto.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do not reply if you do not agree, it would be better. No conflicts. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Conténtate con lo que tienes y no pidas más, puede que incluso eso lo pierdas.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What kind of shit is it? What I want to say today is that we are so frightened because of ourselves and all the stuff our society has taught us to believe, that we don't notice all the possibilities that are surrounding us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No se trata de ser solamente positivo, implica un cierto tipo de energía interior, una creencia firme, en que las cosas pueden y deben ser diferentes. Y creer que podemos ser como aquellos que admiramos y crearon su diferencia. Gracias a personas que no se creyeron las pavadas anteriormente mencionadas, se innovaron tecnologías, se avanzó en la lucha social, se crearon maravillosas obras de arte, comenzaron empresas que hoy son exitosas, pobres dejaron de ser pobres y enfermos crónicos descubrieron sus propios métodos de sanación...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not necessary to make a BIG  ONE  discovering, not even being millionaire or famous for a  precise thing. Every person has the seed inside with all the possibilities of the world, beating like a little heart inside, sometimes singing, sometimes sad, but always there, just waiting to be heard.  It is not about vocation... changing job...  and at the same time, has to do with all of those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vivir de acuerdo a nuestros principios. Mantener nuestro propio criterio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling our power, and don't let other's idiot beliefs control our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¡Que no somos borregos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post-Data: By the way, welcome to Café o Té Breakfast, my lovely Piggy. This is our place, one of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-8537227304309145620?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/8537227304309145620/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=8537227304309145620' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8537227304309145620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/8537227304309145620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/01/psicologa-negativa-o-borreguismo.html' title='Psicología Negativa o Borreguismo'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-4844309215460250615</id><published>2008-01-28T12:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:07:46.807+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Priorities in life</title><content type='html'>What can I say? My priorities in life have changed, suddenly, and I have to recognise I am so comfortable changing them. In fact, it was time to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por las veces en las que perdemos el foco de lo realmente importante, perdemos maravillosos momentos de vida, recompensas de trabajo, gestos cariñosos que no esperábamos, aprendemos a ver realmente el alma de la gente, lo cual es imposible si no paramos, even if it is just for a second, to look into other people's eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estudiar, trabajar, estudiar, trabajar, estudiar, trabajar... Emocionante. Bien. It is Ok, I am ambitious, I want to get my goals in life, I want to have a very well-paid job, with high responsibilities, to test myself, to feel I am doing something important for people. But don't forget to put the focus on love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y no me refiero sólo al amor de pareja, de amigos, de familia... Me refiero al amor con capitals, ese amor que es el que se demuestra simplemente respirando. No es amor de color rosa, ni es cursi, ni es negro, ni sádico, ni dependiente, es hacer las cosas con toda tu atención.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi prioridad este año es la atención, el detalle, el cuidado. Taking care of everything with all my attention: my love, my job, my friends, my family... Dijo Paulo Coelho en "Brida": "El demonio habita en los detalles".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even writing this entry, I am paying attention. I also feel that I am breathing, and I also feel that  I don't know if I am going to live in the next second. I just live, with all my attention, in the time  I have been given here on Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que os quiero, coñe, ahora mismo. No sé si luego :P...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-4844309215460250615?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/4844309215460250615/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=4844309215460250615' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4844309215460250615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/4844309215460250615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/01/priorities-in-life.html' title='Priorities in life'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2982032128809395305.post-1866739429468682286</id><published>2008-01-27T11:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T11:58:55.647+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Versión 2008</title><content type='html'>Waking up in the morning... and the fucking church' bells are sounding again. I wish I have a really big stone to throw it with my private catapult...!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Me siento realmente positiva al empezar este año, es que hay mucho que agradecer. A la vez, los sentimientos se amontonan en la cabeza y en el corazón, haciendo de todo un pequeño no, un gigantesco lío en el que me siento muuuuuuy cómoda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            The real thing is that I have found love. Just found it inside and then, like the magic of a witch, it appeared outside. It is such a beautiful feeling that I just know I need to protect it, to take care of it and keep it for life. Porque te das cuenta de que el amor es la única fuerza por la que nos movemos los seres humanos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Muchos cambios se avecinan, como los que vivimos en 2007, el año en el que aprendí, personalmente, a disfrutar de los agridulces de la vida y a estar lista para recibir, y no sólo para dar. Fucking EGO! No hay más soberbia que querer ser fuente de todo para los demás y no estar dispuesta a que nada te nutra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                But STOP!! This is just a first entry... To say hello and make a little step into Blogs again, don't want to make a phylosophical essay (altough you will see I can't help it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             Welcome to my Blog.  Y si quieres, toma tu café o tu té en forma de comentario.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2982032128809395305-1866739429468682286?l=cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/feeds/1866739429468682286/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2982032128809395305&amp;postID=1866739429468682286' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/1866739429468682286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2982032128809395305/posts/default/1866739429468682286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cafeotebreakfast.blogspot.com/2008/01/versin-2008.html' title='Versión 2008'/><author><name>Sandra G. Gata</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf2psijV_w0/TgIXHnzLQoI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/CzkAYVaq3oM/s220/cat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
