tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75323631563126527862011-04-21T16:44:56.810-07:00bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.comBlogger151100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-27365792678426929002008-06-06T08:48:00.000-07:002008-12-10T13:03:09.894-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/SElc_ZM6AKI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/8RtK4vYy2RI/s1600-h/S6000060.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/SElc_ZM6AKI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/8RtK4vYy2RI/s400/S6000060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208796688197222562" border="0" /></a><br />todavía estamos viendo el objetivo, eso es lo que sorprende.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-2736579267842692900?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-19747861777844944362008-02-01T09:37:00.000-08:002008-12-10T13:03:10.428-08:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R6NZjT5czlI/AAAAAAAAAQk/i4j7bH1SMUU/s1600-h/S6001081.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162068061068250706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R6NZjT5czlI/AAAAAAAAAQk/i4j7bH1SMUU/s400/S6001081.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>el bruña (buenas personas). una plaza más abajo, de plateros, o algo así. tras los árboles, el prado.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-1974786177784494436?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-79715816199336653462008-01-27T21:19:00.000-08:002008-12-10T13:03:10.589-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R51nMT5czkI/AAAAAAAAAQY/GuToiD4IWAk/s1600-h/v+s.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R51nMT5czkI/AAAAAAAAAQY/GuToiD4IWAk/s400/v+s.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160394209233784386" border="0" /></a><br />esta es la mejor foto del día del examen de grado. tuve la fortuna de tenerlos cerca, a ellos y al de la cámara. yo quería ir al baño, una y otra vez. ella volteó de pronto y salió en su sorpresa.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-7971581619933665346?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-1569455925432640402008-01-24T21:45:00.000-08:002008-01-24T22:00:19.973-08:00<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-984963641a684ec7" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D984963641a684ec7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331208213%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D262C35A2107EED41677637D518F5D61106D78C68.82D3EADA48B8EE2865DB68181B65CA37A6E83158%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D984963641a684ec7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D4gU5_joK-NL3qnN4ZYcoZVLag1Y&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D984963641a684ec7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331208213%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D262C35A2107EED41677637D518F5D61106D78C68.82D3EADA48B8EE2865DB68181B65CA37A6E83158%26key%3Dck1&iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D984963641a684ec7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D4gU5_joK-NL3qnN4ZYcoZVLag1Y&autoplay=0&ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /></object><br />en frente, la plaza de los cubos, había un lugar de donuts que ya no encontré. me reía porque se suponía que pasaría muy serio e indiferente.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-156945592543264040?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-55123935738856569622008-01-24T21:11:00.001-08:002008-12-10T13:03:10.735-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5lxIT5cziI/AAAAAAAAAQI/QpgwCUVop_E/s1600-h/S6000066.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5lxIT5cziI/AAAAAAAAAQI/QpgwCUVop_E/s400/S6000066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159279235723742754" border="0" /></a>cada noche una caña. el chico que atiende es un chino al que imitaban algunos de los clientes. fingía que le hacía gracia.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-5512393573885656962?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-88568116079118628352008-01-24T21:07:00.001-08:002008-12-10T13:03:10.903-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5lu4D5czhI/AAAAAAAAAQA/MQEouspXdss/s1600-h/S6000041.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5lu4D5czhI/AAAAAAAAAQA/MQEouspXdss/s400/S6000041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159276757527612946" border="0" /></a><br />en el museo arqueológico; me moví para salir un poquito borroso.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-8856811607911862835?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-73701532606201221112008-01-24T21:03:00.000-08:002008-12-10T13:03:11.271-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5luVz5czgI/AAAAAAAAAP4/9irToF5UAS0/s1600-h/S6000080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5luVz5czgI/AAAAAAAAAP4/9irToF5UAS0/s400/S6000080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159276169117093378" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-7370153260620122111?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-67779180805553010272008-01-23T09:26:00.007-08:002008-12-10T13:03:11.436-08:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R6fnMz5cznI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/Pjm7Cz06AiI/s1600-h/opera+cafeteria.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163349705079180914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R6fnMz5cznI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/Pjm7Cz06AiI/s400/opera+cafeteria.JPG" border="0" /></a>para probar de nuevo pastel de zanahoria. se lo pedí a la camarera. tienen aquí una cosa de zanahoria, pregunté con donaire. cosa no hay, tarta talvez, se ofendió la mesera, pedimos dos porciones; pero ella y yo seguimos recostados en su espejo. nadie, ni la chica desnuda, ni el turista vestido, ni la plaza de la opera, prueban pastel o cosa; tarta talvez, de zanahoria.<br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-6777918080555301027?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-81674704675046719602008-01-23T09:26:00.006-08:002008-12-10T13:03:12.231-08:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R6flkj5czmI/AAAAAAAAAQs/HfYij7_ojtA/s1600-h/escalera+al+cielo.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163347914077818466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R6flkj5czmI/AAAAAAAAAQs/HfYij7_ojtA/s400/escalera+al+cielo.JPG" border="0" /></a> en la almudena, unas monjas retiran telarañas. pero acaso, pudieran de pronto levantarlas. por un momento pensé que presenciaba otro milagro. lo presencié. de nuevo.<br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-8167470467504671960?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-75908112504817597032008-01-23T09:26:00.004-08:002008-12-10T13:03:12.435-08:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d_bD5czfI/AAAAAAAAAPw/68UTAdyArlk/s1600-h/S6000075.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158732001055657458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d_bD5czfI/AAAAAAAAAPw/68UTAdyArlk/s400/S6000075.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>así le dicen a este matusalénico paño de lágrimas que se me quedó en el jardín botánico.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-7590811250481759703?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-21135645612291295172008-01-23T09:26:00.003-08:002008-12-10T13:03:12.631-08:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d-MT5czeI/AAAAAAAAAPo/XTfD5nlOOfU/s1600-h/S6000077.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158730648140959202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d-MT5czeI/AAAAAAAAAPo/XTfD5nlOOfU/s400/S6000077.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>leandro me regaló unas cuantas, tendía los pies con ampollas, por caminar sin tener la costumbre. iba y venía, muy lejos, muy despacio. el parque del retiro. fue la única vez que l. me permitió pisar el césped. todavía traigo una en la cartera.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-2113564561229129517?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-78205951553748726572008-01-23T09:26:00.002-08:002008-12-10T13:03:12.784-08:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d8nz5czdI/AAAAAAAAAPg/rbGAjeJMIJk/s1600-h/S6000012.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158728921564106194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d8nz5czdI/AAAAAAAAAPg/rbGAjeJMIJk/s400/S6000012.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>andaba buscando un atril para rita, cerca de donde vivía, por valle de súchil, o algo así. me senté en una banca, junto a otros ancianos, luego vi que por ahí estaban los tigres del norte, y que un patriota escribió algo sobre españa, abajo, otro letrero: "totalmente gratis", y a un lado battiato, l. me mandaría una de battiato meses después, hace una semana.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-7820595155374872657?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-37763727660959777992008-01-23T09:26:00.001-08:002008-12-10T13:03:12.899-08:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d8Dj5czcI/AAAAAAAAAPY/Uxak7E7PY2I/s1600-h/S6000208.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158728298793848258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d8Dj5czcI/AAAAAAAAAPY/Uxak7E7PY2I/s400/S6000208.JPG" border="0" /></a> nos comimos dos letizias, junto al lago, en la casa de campo. a unos metros de pinos centenarios.<br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-3776372766095977799?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-28564283686052029282008-01-23T09:26:00.000-08:002008-12-10T13:03:13.070-08:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d6Nz5czbI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/gtfUUEtH-GE/s1600-h/S6000262.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158726275864251826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/R5d6Nz5czbI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/gtfUUEtH-GE/s400/S6000262.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>la última foto, antes entrar al metro (anton martín?), casi la despedida. al cuello la llave de la maleta, llena de calcetines, abanicos y sin jamón serrano.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-2856428368605202928?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7532363156312652786.post-62915587057359729182007-10-23T17:51:00.000-07:002008-12-10T13:03:13.198-08:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/Rx6gBEXpv6I/AAAAAAAAAL0/SbfZO2aJKSI/s1600-h/S6001036.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124709366207463330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z8eQ9UMaEAA/Rx6gBEXpv6I/AAAAAAAAAL0/SbfZO2aJKSI/s400/S6001036.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>El avión llegó a las seis de la mañana a Barajas. el agente revisor me preguntó con autoritario despecho si era la primera vez que estaba en España. le contesté que no, que ahí había estudiado. selló con energía y hartazgo. me regreso en unos días, le dije en silencio, para consolarlo. tomé esta fotografía minutos antes, observando las estructuras de Rogers y Lamela. afuera estaba Leandro, paseando con su camiseta de Zacatecas, una mexicana lo veía insistentemente, me tuvo que esperar mientras yo dudaba si esa, la única maleta que quedaba era la mía. me esperaban los túneles del metro de Madrid, emancipados al fin de mis pesadillas.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7532363156312652786-6291558705735972918?l=cuadernodemadrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>bufa-i-bufahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381160646959243129noreply@blogger.com0