Pages

Monday, November 30, 2009

91 # 122


são assim os regressos a casa às segundas :)

On tenterhooks


We're all just human...

Coach Ken Tanaka: You make this and we win. You make this and you die a legend.

Kurt Hummel: Can I pee first?

*Glee, ep. 4

Sunday, November 29, 2009

90 # 122


the after
**yay xmas goodyness**

And that's how Sue sees it

Sue Sylvester: [...] let me tell you something: there's not much of a difference between a stadium full of cheering fans and an angry crowd screaming abuse at you. They're both just making a lot of noise. How you take it is up to you - convince yourself they're cheering for you; you do that and someday they will.

*Glee, Ep.4

Saturday, November 28, 2009

89 # 122


the before

And just like that...

... an unexpected someone broke a spell...

Friday, November 27, 2009

88 # 122


Reunião CSCM

2004-2009

So today I had a reunion. People I went to school with decided - thanks to the wonders of social networks like Facebook - to get together for a night out. It was weird seeing all those familiar faces after so long. To know what happened in their lives. Some people stay true to the course you thought they'd follow, some surprise you completely. And together (even though tonight there were barely twenty people) we have so much diversity: translators, biologists, psychologists, pilots, lawyers... And somehow - waaaay back in time - we kinda grew up together. And we look the same too; I look at faces and I immediately see someone that used to tease me for reading Harry Potter, or someone that sat next to me in English classes, or someone that once said lettuce was a nutrient. I look at us and realize we're still a bunch of kids. Yes, some of us have jobs, dress fancier, got our acts together, have cars, drink white wine... Yes, we're past the weird years, with all the hormones and acne. But deep down we stayed the same. And that's kinda comforting.

On couch-coccoon

Yesterday I thought Hey, since it's Thanksgiving, let's give that "What am I thankful for" speech a go. Then a little voice inside of me said Nah! Let's not go there. And little voice was right. Not that I don't have plenty of things to be thankful for, but such a speech would inevitably voice feelings that are better left alone. Things that live in the dark. Things that aren't bright and shiny. So instead of starting something that would most certainly leave me moping around the house, I grabbed The Lion in Winter and spent my Thanksgiving afternoon curled on the couch with my blanket watching Glenn Close and Patrick Stewart go at each others throats. And it made me feel so much better.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

87 # 122


chuva, carro e decorações de Natal :)

Happy Thanksgiving



Wednesday, November 25, 2009

86 # 122


trespassing and spreading the joy

Good deeds


Para os mais ousados, é só subir quatro andares... duas vezes...

Banging my head against a wall

I am a coward.

Two days ago I sat down, looked at myself and promised I would change my ways.

Today I had the opportunity to start changing, for real. A true milestone. I looked it in the eye and then I walked away. I am a stupid, coward person.

I guess it's gonna take more than fancy words for me to finally take a leap.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Coffeesaster


Tudo começou cerca de uma hora antes da minha aula de mestrado, quando se abateu sobre mim uma sonolência esmagadora. Resolvi então ir à máquina de café da faculdade. Coisa simples, pensava eu. Não! Depois de duas tentativas falhadas e de se me acabarem os trocos, fiquei com dois cafés curtos com açúcar, um em cada mão.


(Para quem não sabe, eu sou daquelas pessoas estranhas que se beber café com açúcar ferro a dormir, portanto a inexistência desse sabor doce era de grande importância para a questão!)


Bem, disse eu cá para mim, como isto tem açúcar não vai ter grande efeito, mais vale beber os dois. Erro crasso. Isto porque só depois de os emborcar ao mesmo tempo é que me apercebi que no fim de contas a máquina tinha erro nenhum nem estava possuida e o café afinal não tinha açúcar.


Conclusão: passei quatro horas numa sala de aula num estado frenético e eléctrico. Não conseguia manter-me concentrada mais de dois minutos sem começar a dispersar, fiz listas no caderno, desenhei bonecos e gatafunhos, olhei pela janela, comecei a bater com a caneta no caderno num tique ritmado e extremamente enervante e tinha de tapar a boca cada vez que ouvia o nome Schroedinger para esconder um sorriso estranho.


Ainda tentei diluir o efeito da cafeína bebendo água. Escusado será dizer que foi pior a emenda que o soneto; fiquei cheia de vontade de ir à casa de banho logo após a primeira meia hora e ouvir matéria que é bom foi um pouco ou nada!


Chegado ao intervalo tive a brilhante ideia de me descalçar e começar a dar voltas como nos tempos áureos da salsa. Só para libertar energia. A cara das minhas colegas a olhar para mim era uma coisa gira de se ver... Ia em direcção às escadas (só para subir e descer sem propósito nenhum... tal era o frenesim) quando fui interceptada pelo professor e lá tive de me aguentar durante mais duas horas em modo Animal (o boneco vermelho dos Marretas na imagem lá de cima).


Isto numa aula sobre Mecânica Quântica. Que até é uma coisa que eu percebo imenso *sarcasmo, sarcasmo*. Felizmente tenho uns colegas porreiros quanto à partilha de apontamentos.


E quanto ao café antes das aulas... passo a bebê-lo em casa...


85 # 122


the end of a long-term reading

Monday, November 23, 2009

Mental power

Orson: I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and I've decided finally to be happy.

Bree: How can you just decide something like that?

Orson: Look, there are things that I don't like about my life, but there is so much that is good. [...] I mean, if I can decide to be resentful and jealous I can damn well decide to be happy.*

Desperate Housewives, Season 5 Ep. 20

84 # 122


tudo o que preciso é uma dose de coragem para ser feliz

Sunday, November 22, 2009

...

My sky has no stars. Only comets.

In need of a friendly shoulder

And in the end when life has got you down

You've got someone here you can wrap your arms around

Wouldn't I love that?...

83 # 122


the sweet irony

After all, tomorrow is another day*

Hoje tive de enfrentar um facto que já se vinha a adivinhar no horizonte. Algo que me estilhaça o coração, coloca os restos num almofariz e desfá-los em pó até não ficar nada. Tenho um buraco no peito, mas de alguma forma o sangue ainda viaja. A respiração ainda se faz. Mesmo sem batimento cardíaco. E portanto sei que hei-de sobreviver, que esta é só mais uma coisa a ser ultrapassada. Como ainda não sei. Por enquanto apenas respiro. Vou dormir. Deixar que o corpo me leve. Em piloto automático. Amanhã logo se vê.

*Gone with the wind

Saturday, November 21, 2009

82 # 122


at 4 a.m. the journey home gets fuzzy

Follow the post it


God's nightgown, I am one of them

Today, as I glanced through the DVD section my eye caught a glimpse of a familiar sight. It was a special edition of Gone with the Wind. I picked it up and held it tight to me. I rambled on and on on how great it was (and this after some previous lecture on how my friend simply must read the book). And then I knew: I have turned to the other side. And fiddle-dee-dee, what do I care if I did?

Yes Agnes, you can gloat all you want...

The passing of knowledge

Hoje, enquanto ambas namorávamos a secção de livros do El Corte, ela disse-me algo como:

E o que é que me sugeres agora? [...] É que eu levo as tuas sugestões muito a sério; de todos os livros que me sugeriste não houve um que eu não tivesse gostado.

E dei por mim a falar de autores que me vieram de outros. George Orwell, Juliet Marillier, Nick Hornby, Margaret Mitchell. E de repente é como se houvesse uma espécie de hierarquia, de cadeia. As minhas mentoras, eu e a minha pupila. Os títulos que me diziam Cala-te e lê que logo me dás razão, agora ando eu a passá-los para o elo seguinte. Pode ser a coisa mais banal do mundo, mas para mim não deixa de ter graça.

No ouvido # 3

(with a bit of effort) still on bright and shiny mode

Friday, November 20, 2009

Julie and Julia

Today I went to see the new Meryl Streep/Amy Adams movie.

(Next paragragh contains synopsis or - to petty unforgiving people - spoilers)

The premise is quite simple: a sad and unfulfilled woman named Julie decides to create a blog and spend a whole year cooking her way through a cookbook written forty years ago by a woman named Julia, thus giving way to long flashbacks relating the beloved author's life.

All in all I liked it very much. It's your average feel good movie, which was exactly what I was going for. It has Meryl (always a nice plus no matter what it is she's doing), a steady Amy Adams, loads of food and an orange cat.

I admit I felt like I'd just stepped into a women only convention. No men in the audience. Not one. And honestly I get why; it's a movie for women.(All feminists out there - I'm not saying this just because it's about cooking, so no hitting me!).

It made me realize once more - not that I needed it - how much I love my own blog. How much this seemingly empty void means to me and the difference it makes in my life. And for that alone I'd be grateful. But better yet is fact that - thank God!! - it's not a movie about relationships. Praise the Lord!!! I've been craving a movie like this since... I guess since The devil wears Prada (and there's dear Meryl again!). Something light that doesn't rub the wonders of being in love in my face.

So thank you, whoever thought of it. It gave me a well-spent afternoon and something to think about...

81 # 122


Bon appétit ;)

Thursday, November 19, 2009

80 # 122


novas recordações :)

What's in a name?

I love my name. Because it still feels new. Like something you save for special ocasions. With the exception of family situations, throughout my life I got used to being called other names than my own. It's the curse of having a popular name; eventually the use of nicknames becomes unavoidable. So I was many things. Hideous names. Then, as I dug my way out of adolescence, people started calling me by my last name. Which isn't so bad. It even felt kinda nice. And that's the way it's been. Manata. Like an heirloom. Both my father and grandfather were called that way by their friends. So it didn't take long for me to happily get used to it.

Thus, my name is like fancy china. Like bonbons you can only find in Winter. My heart goes wobbly and jello-ish everytime I hear it. It feels like a sweet and endearing pet name. With a whispery quality to it. Joana...

Just to make me smile...


... and shoo away all bad thoughts

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

79 # 122


dia de exercitar os bíceps

Trying to rise


If you don't have anything nice to say...

... you better keep your mouth shut. I tell ya, I've been having loads of ideas for posts. Words just pop into my brain like... popcorn! Sadly, it's all on the depressive side. So I'm keeping it all to myself now. Trying to ignore it. To rise above. To focus on other things...

... and this has nothing to do with this week HIMYM episode!

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

78 # 122


Geekday at its best

Monday, November 16, 2009

77 # 122


soundtrack of a s'wonderful nap

Sunday, November 15, 2009

76 # 122


um dia off... literalmente...

Melody of disaster

I have a platonic thing with this one

Saturday, November 14, 2009

75 # 122


"para o infinito e mais além"
com uma manta e um livro

Definitions of self


I'm not that girl*

These have been rocky months. Depressoville. And it only makes me feel more spoiled and petty. So many people around me have bigger problems than mine that my complaining seems childish. Like I could just shake it off if I wanted. But that's easier said than done! I'm long past the point where it was all a matter of glass half empty/ half full. I'm a mess. Worse, I'm an exposed mess. Couch digging is not yet fruitful; for now it just brings to light all horribleness inside. Which doesn't make my job any easier.

It's a vicious circle. I feel ashamed. I shun people away. I feel lonely and depressed. I make more mistakes. I keep from singing and dancing. I die a little inside. I make mistakes. I get disappointed and angry with myself. I make more mistakes. And on and on and on...

Somehow I have to break it. To focus on the daily to-do lists, the small joys I still have, to drown all the voices in my head. Find strengh in myself. In numbers if need be. I need some serious rescuing.

Because I became a stupid damsel in distress. And I'm really not that girl.

*Wicked Soundtrack
(again with the double meaning...)

Some people are waaay too special


Lucky day

I love friday 13th. All of them. They seem to leave us on a mild state of alert. More conscious and aware of all the little things. Good things. Today has been a good day. My bathroom remodel and all the plumbing work are about to reach the long-awaited end. At long last I was able to get past some very frustrating internet issues (which resulted in a happily large number of episodes piling up for several days). I literally lost track of time while reading page after page of a novel I haven't touched in days. And I chatted with a special friend online. Overall it was an amazing day. It made me feel blessed and alive. And nowadays that's quite a feat.

Friday, November 13, 2009

74 # 122


connecting people :)
Lisbon - Afghanistan

Thursday, November 12, 2009

73 # 122


mama's got a new baby

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Pérolas de mestrado # 3

[...] tipo telenovela mas sem a dita cuja.

72 # 122


Feliz S. Martinho

Pérolas de mestrado # 2

A fissão nuclear é como um banana split.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Quem não se lembra disto?

71 # 122


...there are signs everywhere...

Um clássico da minha infância

Parabéns pelos 40 anos


Don't know what to do...

... when ghosts are waving...

I'd love to believe

Sometimes I feel like I'm just trying to pretend that I don't care. That all of this is just an act that by hook or crook I can never give away. I must always play the part. Even when occasionally I don't know who I am and what the hell I'm doing here or why. I feel phony. Fake. Liar. Hypocrite. And I get tired. And mad. And I hyperventilate. Still I'm stuck. Then I remember the other side of all this. The politically correct and happy-optimistic point of view. I'm currently focusing on other parts of my life. It's a nice to put it, isn't it? Sounds so much like a conscious, grown-up choice. So wise and admirable. Too bad I can't exactly believe it myself.

Monday, November 09, 2009

70 # 122


almoço KEP para começar bem a semana :)

Sunday, November 08, 2009

So true


Remembering

Faz hoje um ano que soube que ia ser tia pela primeira vez.

69 # 122


esta tarde somos só nós os dois

Saturday, November 07, 2009

68 # 122


esplanadar em família

Friday, November 06, 2009

Book thirst

Hoje vi passar ao meu lado um saco da Bertrand com um livro novinho em folha. A piscar-me o olho descaradamente. E bateram-me as saudades de papel. Assim que acabou a aula de Linguística Comparada (sem comentários) vim célere para casa. Comi a sopa, tratei da quinta e dos mails. Agora vou buscar o meu tijolo azul - esquecido há uma semana à conta daquele teste infernal - e vou entregar-me às leituras.

67 # 122


da produtividade das aulas de linguística

Thursday, November 05, 2009

66 # 122


message (literally) from above

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

65 # 122


últimos minutos antes do teste

I'm still alive*

Hoje, apesar do cansaço extremo, senti-me viva. Hoje lembrei-me de forma física da rapariga dos primeiros tempos de licenciatura. Aquela que nunca deixava nada para trás, que corria de um lado para o outro. Aquela que deixava um brilhosinho nos olhos dos outros. Com o horário apertado mas eficaz. Com as correrias. Com as coisas feitas. E hoje, apesar (ou devo antes dizer graças a?) às condições adversas - o tempo, o encavalitar de programas de diversas naturezas e sobretudo os dias passados ao som extenuante das brocas e dos martelos de deixar a cabeça de qualquer um em papa ao final da primeira hora - triunfei. Cheguei à meta. Estudei tudo. Entrei naquela sala um tudo nada cansada mas segura do que ali ia fazer. Espalhei-me ao comprido a seguir. Mas isso é outra história.

*Pearl Jam

Sometimes Google can be so endearing # 2

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

64 # 122


um grande jantar teatreiro

Sunday, November 01, 2009

62 # 122


voyage to Neverwas

Storytelling

Há bocadinho estava a fazer zapping quando apanhei o princípio do You've got mail na RTP1. A cena em que a Kathleen lê para as crianças. E deixou-me com um sorriso. Porque uma vozinha cá dentro se lembrou do Martim e da Joaninha. E como daqui a uns anos espero ser eu atrás de um livro com um chapéu na cabeça.

This is Hallowe'en*

Era 1:26 e estava de regresso a casa vinda de um jantar entre amigos. Apesar do convite para ir para a borga ser tentador, estava mole, cheia de sono e no dia seguinte tinha muito papel para estudar. Aconteceu que à saída da A5, ali mesmo ao lado do túnel do Marquês dei com um rol de ambulâncias e carros da polícia. Macas a postos, pessoas andando de um lado para o outro. Uma autêntica feira montada à volta de um carro feito em lata de Pepsi pisada.

Então pensei Que se f***! Vida há só uma! Inverti para Sete Rios e rumei ao Teatro da Luz. E assim foi que no fim de contas acabei por festejar o Hallowe'en. Pode não ter sido das melhores noites que já tive, mas sempre me diverti e parvei. E nesta fase em que me vejo mergulhada (ou deverei antes dizer submersa?) todos os bons momentos são uma benção.

*Nightmare before Christmas

Echoes in my mind

Temos, todos que vivemos,
Uma vida que é vivida
E outra vida que é pensada,
E a única vida que temos
É essa que é dividida
Entre a verdadeira e a errada

Fernando Pessoa