Who’s ready for a little drama?

Concurso hípico, Lisboa, 1928(?)

Anyone who is a regular reader of my blog knows I’m not one to do reviews or product recommendations. The reason for this is that rarely do I come across something worthy of a “five-star rating.”

Family and friends think I’m too critical. I like to think of myself as someone unwilling to waste time on an endeavor whose outcome will more than likely be lacking. Sadly, the times I’ve been betrayed by reviews, trailers, and media hype are too many to count.

That said, today I come to you bearing news of a Netflix program I think is worth every second of your time. There’s a caveat of course–you must be subscribed to Netflix. However, if you’re a lucky subscriber, I highly recommend adding “Las Chicas del Cable,” or the “Cable Girls,” to your playlist. While the narration is in Spanish, English subtitles are available and do not detract from your viewing experience.

The setting? A realistic representation of life in Madrid, Spain in the late 1920’s.

The costumes? Clothes that will make any vintage fashion addict drool. Iconic flapper style comprised of cloche hats, long necklaces, and shift dresses with dropped waistlines in luxurious fabrics. (All of which serves to remind me I was born in the wrong era.)

The plot? The portrayal of the interwoven lives of four women who meet at a telephone company on the day when interviews for the position of telephone operator is being conducted.

Once hired, the women will spend their day answering and connecting calls on a massive switchboard. Their connection (pardon the pun) is not immediate. Yet as the story unravels, it paves the way for the kind of loyalty and solidarity that epitomizes true friendship.

The characters? Four women named Angeles, Carlota, Marga, and Lidia. Their personalities are totally different, yet they share the desire to reinvent themselves. All the way from being a victim of spousal abuse to running from the law, they’re all looking to escape their actual circumstances. Each one is struggling to become independent; to assert herself and fight for the rights of women.

Yes, folks, this gem of a show has a feminist message. The characters remind us how far women have come in the fight for equality as well as the many challenges we still face today. Their search for freedom, independence, a career, and love remind us of the sacrifices we make in a world that continues to be unfairly run by men.

Episode after episode, I find myself cheering on these courageous women. And while the male characters are necessary for story development, it is the representation of the sisterhood that keeps me coming back. I am overjoyed by the message of female empowerment and the reminder that women need to lift each other up instead of tearing each other down. If you’re in search of a show that does more than entertain, you’ll find “Las Chicas del Cable,” will not disappoint.

Have you watched the show?


Disclaimer: #notsponsored


Spanish sun, where have you gone?

Spain 2017

The summer is fast departing and little Roxy and I have still not reconciled with the fact our time in Spain has ended. The thought that it’ll be another year before we again see our beloved summer place is too painful to bear.

Back in June, Roxy and I were all too eager to board the plane that would take us to the magical place we visit every year. We were more than ready to join the throngs of sun worshipers who congregate at the beach located just across the street from my mother’s apartment.

Alas, that time is no more.

I inhale deeply as I wait for my coffee to brew. Within minutes, its enticing aroma fills the kitchen. I allow my little moka pot to rest on the burner and feel the bewitching scent swirling around me.

Closing my eyes, I recall the gastronomic paradise we’ve left behind. Plates full of steaming paella, colorful and aromatic, dance before my eyes. Baskets of golden churros, accompanied by steaming mugs of hot chocolate, beckon me from afar. Spanish vino and a multitude of tapas seem to whisper, “Where have you gone?”

I sigh deeply. We’ve only been back a few days and already I yearn to return.

I miss the ocean waves that lulled me to sleep every night. I miss the smell of the sea outside of my window. I miss the frothy waves that cradled me on my afternoon swim. I miss the warm sand between my toes.

Looking at my tanned skin, I realize it won’t be long before my skin turns sallow and this newly acquired golden hue is gone.


That time of the year when I’m allowed to pause.
That time of the year when I hit the reset button.
That time of the year when I beckon the sun’s rays to charge my emotional batteries.

I sigh nostalgically as I remember the many “dolce far niente” moments Roxy and I experienced. Slowly sipping my coffee, I realize we should all be so lucky to experience these kind of moments. They’re good for the soul and prompt the body and mind to relax; to take a break from the daily conundrum.

Indeed, my Spanish summer is behind me but this doesn’t mean I will not hit the pause button as fall approaches. And that’s because the older I get, the more I realize the only way to move forward is to take breaks along the way.

I refuse to be a marathon runner. Instead, I scribble my name in the short distance category. Why? Because something tells me that whatever awaits at the finish line is going to be the same no matter what.

Taking in this new found notion, Roxy and I settle comfortably on the couch. We may not be in Spain but this doesn’t mean we can’t have a “siesta” (nap) and dream of “chorizo” and Manchego cheese.

How was your summer break?


Whatever happened to “till death do us part”?

Day 205 - Stone and Flesh

I had every intention of posting a second installment of my trip to Prague today. Yet sometimes we plan things and fate steps in and leads us in a different direction.

A phone call was responsible for today’s turnaround. A dear friend, distraught and suffering from depression, called to tell me her husband of 15 years had cheated on her.

It’s not the first time I write about divorce, infidelity, or betrayal on this blog. Other posts, while dealing with these subjects, have not been prompted by the sheer outrage I feel today. My friend’s weeping and claim that she is “broken beyond repair,” touched a nerve.

Thinking of her sorrow, I wondered how it was possible she had meant so little to her spouse that he had stepped out on her. To make matters worse, he’d cheated on her with another man. Not that this mattered. After all, betrayal is betrayal and in my opinion, the gender of the other person is irrelevant. Yet my friend did not feel the same way. To her, it mattered immensely.

“Am I so unattractive he had to cheat with a man, Bella?”, she asked sobbing. For the first time in our ten year friendship, I was at a loss for words. Her husband claimed he was straight and that his indiscretion had simply been part of a middle age crisis; the desire to appease a curiosity he’d had for years. I wasn’t buying it and neither was my friend.

It’s important to note that had this man not been married, he would’ve been free to explore any kind of sexual relationship he wanted. However, given this was not the case, his indiscretion was no different from any other tawdry affair.

Anyone who reads my blog regularly knows how situations like these make me question the “why.”

Why hurt your spouse in this manner?
Why betray her trust?
Why rob her of her self esteem?

Pondering possible answers to these questions lead me to write a letter. A letter to the very person who initiated this pain. I wrote it thinking, not only of my friend, but in all the women who’ve suffered before her and who will sadly follow in her footsteps. As someone who’s gone through a similar experience, I find that its content reflects what the majority of us felt when we made betrayal’s acquaintance.

Dear Cheating Husband,
How dare you betray the woman you promised to love in good times and in bad times? How dare you put yourself first, before the very woman you promised to love and cherish till death do you part?

Were you not aware of the pain your actions would cause? Did your wife’s love mean so little you were willing to sacrifice it for a night of cheap thrills? How could you be so quick to forget the many years she had your back, loved you unconditionally, and took care of you?

How could you stab her in the back when all she ever did was have your children, take care of your home, and help pay the bills? How could you throw away her trust for mere sexual gratification?

How did you expect her to take you back after you lied, cheated, and made her believe she was worthless? Why did you make her believe you were a man of your word, with integrity, and who respected the sanctity of marriage?

How dare you look her in the eye? How dare you tell her to get over it, that it was just one night? How dare you disregard the results of your actions? How dare you expect her to go on like nothing happened?

Shame on you for being so selfish. Shame on you for misleading her into thinking she was your one and only. Shame on you for putting her life at risk when after having sex with a stranger, you came home to have unprotected sex with her.

For now, have your little laugh. Pretend it’s no big deal. Mock her when she cries.

But do not forget karma is unforgiving. She has a way of making her way to those who are callous and inflict pain. Someday you too will experience the hurt and suffering you have caused. Someday you too will feel broken and unable to get on with life. Someday you too will start and end each day asking yourself, why?

Your wife? Hopefully she will no longer be by your side. Hopefully, she will have realized she is worth more than being with a man who didn’t think twice of betraying her. Hopefully, she will be far away, free of your toxicity, living her life in joy, and laughing at the little things.

Only then will you realize the irony–that your betrayal lead to her freedom. The freedom to experience joy the way it was intended.

Just another survivor

Have you ever felt the pain of betrayal?