I'm a ''natural born'' writer (meaning, it's my calling) so, of course, I ended up in advertising. Definitely fun, but you are only as good as the last great ad you did. I'm not against trying something different if the opportunity presents itself.

Public Relations is one of the things I'd like to do, or rather, continue doing, since I've been working part time in a PR firm since the summer (of 2009).

I earned my Bachelor's Degree from Sarah Lawrence College in Bronxville, New York, in May of 1994 - Writing, Literature, Film History, some Philosophy, a bit of Psychology, and a lot of Art.

Many of us just majored in lounging around discussing whether this or that was art (remember pissed christ by Andres Serrano?) and whether anyone really understood the film Serene Velocity or, hey, let's play that game we saw in Last Year at Marienbad. Surprisingly, we learned. Well, I did. The education is social as well as academic.

I lived in Brooklyn for a while after graduating in 1994, and even though I was born and raised in Puerto Rico, New York was more of a home than I've ever had here (PR). I left, seriously, because I couldn't take another winter.

It's 2010 and it feels like I was living there just yesterday, when Williamsburg was barely hip and still somewhat skewed by those who avoided 'dangerous Hispanic neighborhoods' after 6 pm. I, on the other hand, loved the slight squalor, loved the greek diner on the corner of Metropolitan, and made a lifelong friend out of the cashier.

We haven't spoken in years but I feel like we could pick up right where we left our last conversation.

Like I said, winters were too much for me and, happily, a chance came up to work in Guantanamo Bay as a civilian worker with a humanitarian organization (World Relief), back when thousands of ''Balseros'' left Cuba in a massive exodus, the likes of which nobody had seen since the 80s.

We were there basically trying to get them ready for their new life in the US (thousands upon thousands of Cubans, living as refugees in military-built makeshift camps), teaching them some English; we did our best. Some of us also went as far as explaining what life would be like in the States through funny one-act plays, trying to ensure they wouldn't buy a can of cat food thinking it was tuna (this really happened, I am not making fun). We helped them deal with a high level of anxiety while they waited their turn before going through the INS (immigration) process, when a number of them were sent back, for reasons known only to INS and the person being returned. I spent 7 months there; I was 22 at the time.

I've been working since I was 18, so it is nice to be a freelancer now and make up my own hours. But that is not to say I bum around. When it rains, it pours. It's not unusual to stay up 48 hours straight in order to finish a RUSH translation. That always cost a bit extra, and then I can purchase the much-needed undereye cover, you see.

I lived in Miami after the Cuba experience because, naturally, I fell in love with an escapee and we tried to make a go of it now that we were able to "fraternize". What a bummer when, after only a month, it was obvious that neither of us was ready for the other; In addition,forbidden love was loads more exciting than allowed love, and we were somewhat disappointed with the lack of secrecy. (Years later, we met again, and we were together almost four yeara; not everything was lost.)Regardless of my personal life, I remained in Miami for two years and then I came back to PR, very very glad to leave Miami behind and all the neon bikinis and rollerblades. I was there when Tyson bit off Holyfield's ear. And I was there when Versace was murdered. Moreover, I spent six hours in the worst traffic jam I've ever experienced, the day that Cunanan (murderer) was cornered, and later found dead (suicide) on a houseboat, if memory serves. I think I decided to come home right then and there.
(continued below under Education)

"My greatest fear is that there's no PMS and this is just my personality."
...Por supuesto, bromeo. Hoy día, aunque dicen algunos que soy ''rara'', ''excéntrica'' y hasta ''medio loquita'', tomo todo eso como cumplidos. Al fin y al cabo, la mayoría de los escritores somos un poco extraños.
Hace unos meses me matriculé para tomar clases de belly dancing. Es un baile tan lindo y femenino y, en general, no hay mejor forma de mantener las energías en movimiento que al bailar. Sin embargo, todo baile es mucho más difícil de lo que parece: siempre es ejercicio, y a veces uno se frustra de tanto paso y tanto estilo y tanta vuelta que aprender. Hay que practicar y practicar. Pero vale la pena cuando el esfuerzo da resultados.
Me gustaría tomar clases de tantas cosas. Era verdad lo que nos decían de niños: debimos aprovechar cuando el tiempo sobraba. Y ahora, a duras penas logro quedarme despierta para ver una película alquilada hasta el final.

No, I don't belong to any clubs & organizations, and I tend to frown upon others that belong to more than two. I question their loyalties.
...and on another subject, what is it with the "regards" email-communication closing all you serious sounding people like to use so much? My lawyer boss uses Warm Regards, which sounds tepid and stale and gives stomach-aches. You use kindest regards, which is, surprisingly, kind. But this bitch wins, she has the BEST regards. That's it, everyone should quit their regarding each other. Any regard after best is just, well, loser regards.
So that was today's random rant.
Most Excellent Groovy Regards, or disregard.

I was born with a book in my hands, the pen came later. It's impossible to remember a time when reading wasn't a passion, and writing an obsession. If you enjoy your work, you'll never work again. Then again there's also renting movies, staying up late, not getting up early, job hunting. Coffee and cigarettes. Looking for my dreamjob, which is also looking for me.
You know what I can't get enough of these days? Sometimes missing a whole night of sleep? Internet. It's got me in its claws. There is always something else that needs searching. And I want to learn more of graphic designing.
I also like to sleep a lot, just so you know. I can work until the cows do their thing, but it's very very hard to wake up before, wow, 9:00 I'd say. I hope this doesn't work against me. We all have different clocks, and do our best work at different hours. Most of my intense writing could not possibly be done, even if my life depended on it, at 1 in the afternoon.