Wednesday, December 29, 2010
- Equus, Peter Schaffer ****
- The uncommon reader, Alan Bennett **
- A terceira mãe, Julieta Monginho ****
- Spring awakening, Franz Wedekind **
- The amber spyglass, Philip Pullman ***
- The melancholy death of Oyster Boy, Tim Burton **
- A ilha debaixo do mar, Isabel Allende ***
- Slam, Nick Hornby **
- A arte de morrer longe, Mário de Carvalho *
- The dark mirror, Juliet Marillier ****
- The BFG, Roald Dahl ****
- Blade of Fortriu, Juliet Marillier ****
- The witches, Roald Dahl ***
- Inês de Portugal, João Aguiar ***
- The curious incident of the dog in the night-time, Mark Haddon ****
The good. I finished my classes. All that's left for me to finish my masters is the internship. So no more cramming and reading tedious stuff. Ever. Big yay! The musical course was nothing short of amazing. Learned a lot, had a blast, met great people (creatures that like musicals, yay!). Did the Trinity Guildhall exam and got a Distinction on level 4. Theraphy is coming to an end (I'm all bright and shiny now!). Got a job in the book section of El Corte Inglés. Well, it was only a 27 day contract, but it still counts as fulfilling a dream! And who knows, they might offer me something more at the end of it (fingers crossed, people!). Started learning a new language. Traveled abroad on my own for the first time. But the thing that makes 2010 the best year yet is the wolf. Words aren't big enough to express how great he is and how much I love him. Thank you for being in my life. Here's to an amazing 2011 :)
Monday, December 27, 2010
Right now life is practically perfect in every way. I love him so much it's not even funny. We spend the majority of our time together. We cuddle under a blanket, we watch movies, we walk around the city. Words aren't big enough to describe how happy and loved he makes me. So I'll stop now.
Anyway, I just wanted to update the world. I'm alive and I'm walking on a rainbow.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The bad. It's now been months since my last dance lesson. Or acting lesson. I miss having a choreography and a deadline. I can't dance in bars or parties either. I don't remember the steps and all my swing seems to be awol. My social life is a bit down, but it's all my own doing, so I can't really complain there, can I? My masters has now come to a halt and there's nothing I can do at this point but wait. My grandmother died. From my mother's side all I have left is my uncle. My brother has been bedridden for the entire year. He's had surgery and it's not looking bright and shiny. Good times.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
But this is not supposed to be a pity post. What I mean to say is that a big part of me was invested in this. So now that I can see it, now that I have a special person by my side it wouldn't be fair to all those girls that I used to be (from the little one that started to dream at three years of age to the lonely teenager locked up in her room) to deny them the dream. So I let them. I let them play in the sand of our relationship and build castles as they please. Because that's all it is. Sand castles. I prefer letting them play and run free than shutting them out at the sight of hope. And in time they will grow tired of playing and will go to sleep. Happy and ready to let go of their safety blanket.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Right now I'm still learning but I'm finally starting to get the hang of things and managing doing most things on my own and even being able to show iniciative. And, of course, I'm living the dream. Even if only for a month, the fact is that I'm fulfilling my childhood dream of working with books. And I absolutly love it.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Me and the wolf's folks waiting for him at the airport. He commenting on the jello decorations I've put in my car. Me driving us places. Seeing the lights of the Christmas tree reflected on his face right before we kiss. Having home-made pizza with him and his folks. Introducing him to my family. Falling asleep to the sound of his breathing. Seeing him walk about wearing the silly scarf I made him. Watching the new Doctor Who Christmas special all snuggled up together on the couch. Kissing at the stroke of midnight at New Years. Having him pick me up at work not knowing where we're going next. Being together for about two weeks.
Twenty two days to go... and I'm counting every minute.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety. Italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read only an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses!
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma -Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
Monday, November 22, 2010
Then at some point, I started to lower the bar. Must haves became opcional features, boxes that might never get ticked. I wanted the perfect person, then a good person, and then a person. Oh Heavens, I thought, in the immortal words of Queen, "somebody find me somebody to love". Pretty please! And so it was that little by little McDreamies turned into Average Joes.
Then I met the wolf. A sparkle of hope was born. Little angels sang in my ear. I was amazed. Mankind had something to offer after all. Even to a meerkat like me. At this point the wolf was a beacon of hope and nothing more. He was far out of my league and that was it. (That and the small fact that we were living in different countries). So I started asking for someone that somehow resembled the wolf. Someone made out of a similar blueprint. I had a McDreamy again.
Nearly two years afterwards - on a bright strawberry season - things just changed between us. I guess it was just the right timing. Right now... what can I say? I've never been happier. I'm so lucky to have him by my side (even if not in complete a literal sense). And in the end I got even more than I've asked for. And far more than I've ever dreamed possible.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Real life is not that far from that story. Sometimes you try to protect yourself to a point where you end up shutting life out. Like the bit about the rollerblades in Home Alone 2: "I had a nice pair of rollerblades. I was afraid to wreck them, so I kept them in a box. Do you know what happened? I outgrew them. I never worn them outside. Only in my room a few times."
This not brain surgery here, it's just a simple home truth. The heart is meant to be used. Even if it means getting it broken a few times. And taking a chance is so worth it. Really. I don't care what people think. Sometimes playing it safe doesn't get you anywhere. Sometimes the best you can possibly do is just believe and take a step forward. And who knows what wondrous things you might find?
Friday, November 05, 2010
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Today it was practically deserted. Lunch hour was over. A group of older women chatted at a table for six. A man sipped ice tea while working on a laptop. And then there was me. Me in a big soft armchair with a book in my hands and reviewing my life from that first visit all the way back to today. The person that I was then and the person I am now. It made me proud. Very proud and happy. There was a huge picture of a New York building in front of my table. I smiled. In little less than a year that'll be me. Well, not the Big Apple, but still! I'm opening my wings and flying high. Away from what I know and into the wonderful unknown. So many adventures awaiting me. And so much love.
Monday, November 01, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
I am in love. That's the greatest thing ever. For about a year it'll be long distance. Do I like it? Of course not. But things are what they are and I'm living my life the best way I know how (and as a matter of fact, I think I'm doing a brilliant job at it!). I have the best person ever by my side and the future looks bright. So what if the present is a bit less than perfect?
Saturday, October 30, 2010
But the sad thing here - in real life - is that he doesn't want to change. And so things can never change and get better. Because it takes two. I'm ready to be a different daughter, but I won't do it alone. This isn't Little House on the Prairie, you know! I'm not a cold person, I'm just detatched because I have to be. It's a defense mechanism. Funny thing is that it takes more out of me to be this way than to be the sort of daughter he wants me to be. Unfortunately, as Velma sings, but I can't do it alone.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
I thought things could be weird between us. In person. We got so close on a virtual format that I feared some of that closeness might get lost when meeting face to face. You learn to love someone so much and yet there was no touch to go with it as the feeling blossomed. No looking eye to eye. No body language. What if my quirky self, my meerkatness was just too much when being the same room? I (we) had passed the point of no return. If things went bad it would hurt. A lot. So I was nervous. Afraid of the possible ackwardness and of a potential lack of chemistry.
Again, as it turns out, meerkat was being silly. It was never weird. Because where we're concerned things always flow so easily. It's like discovering I've always known how to ride a bicycle without ever having touched one. I just know. Because I love the wolf so much. And because we're just right.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
I'm very happy. Things are going great. And there's no forcing or rushing anything. Things are what they are and they grow at their own speed. And we love it that way.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
I'm sitting on the floor, having bread with chocolate for breakfast. Watching the leaves fall from the trees in the garden. As they swirl on their way to the grass, I wish there was a fast forward button I could press, so time could go on faster. I'm dreading the trip home. Too many hours alone with myself. Which today is less than ideal. Bus, coach, plane. At least I'll be moving around...
I don't want to go home. Most of all I don't want to back to counting days. But life is what it is, and if that's the price to pay for the amazingness that has befallen me, so be it.
This has been the best weekend ever, bar none. I could try to describe it, but there'dbe no point. There's no words to convey how much it meant to me. I am in love by the best person I've ever met. He loves me back. We have chemistry. We fit together on so many levels. And that's what counts, right? Not the days apart.
I will try to be my best. I will gaze upon the horizon and smile. Not thinking that I'm going away, but instead that I could be here and that this time together couldn't have gone better. That we gave it a go and it was a smashing success. And more days will come. With the right atitude soon Christmas will be here.
So I'm moving forward. I will put my boots on (because it sound they make on the pavement makes me feel stronger), grab my bag and go, knowing all the while that this is right. This is good. And there will be more of it :)
Saturday, October 09, 2010
And there's an Aaaah and a nod going all around the table. I missed that. I miss us girls getting together like old times. Talking about the old stuff. And the new stuff. Realising how even though things change (like feeling so hooligan for still being up at midnight... and when did we start talking about TMs???) we're pretty much still the same. Although with fancy wine for some :)
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Saturday, October 02, 2010
I'll give you an example: learning to splurge a little time on yourself. If you're working too hard and lead a very stressful life people tell you to slow down, to learn how to pamper yourself. To learn how to say no so you can say yes, and that saying no makes your yeses worth so much more. Makes sense, right? However, if you get to that state of enlightment too soon, without going through all the stress and the pain, then people assume you're lazy or spoiled. That you don't know how hard life can be. Bad, bad you! Go back in line and suffer like all the normal people! Brilliant logic, innit? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for learning from your own mistakes etc, etc. But why are people so keen on robbing/thrashing people of what they have if they think that it wasn't earned enough?
Friday, October 01, 2010
Then somewhere in my late teens I decided to go cold turkey. No more! Because that sort of behaviour was killing me and absorbing all my life. It was like hitting myself with a hammer. There was a great big threatning button* saying self-destruct and I kept pressing it. Over the years I said to myself, time and again: One day someone will come and then you may watch and read and listen to your love junk for as long as you like. It won't be a threat anymore.
And now the time has come. And guess what? Surprise, surprise, I don't need it. I'm not scared of it anymore - which is brilliant! - but I don't really feel like going there. Ain't that something? I'm so proud of myself...
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
I've been put into an unfair situation. As if people want us to fail by waiting until the very last minute and then dropping an anvil on us with no warning whatsoever. But I kept moving forward. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless.
As the day gets closer I feel smaller. Dumber. More and more tired. Like my brain has been bullied. Or been put into a blender. More and more of me wants to sit down in a corner and forget. Let the wave pass over me. And yet I keep going. But it's harder and harder to ignore the voices. I'm four again, and I'm scared, and mommy is not herself. It's that same terror. It's that desperate cry to turn on the tv and forget the world. Live in a state of numbness.
And I can't. Because the truth is I'm not four anymore. I'm four and twenty. And so, as much as it hurts, as much as it drains me sick, I have to find the strength to keep standing. I have to believe. And I have to keep going, even when the strength to believe has run out.
Just for this final stretch. And forget the word final, because it gives me the creeps.
Monday, September 13, 2010
- ... and... and...
- ... you love him. That's just it, isn't it?, he asked.
And all I could do was look up, into his eyes. And nod.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Thursday, September 09, 2010
As a survival mechanism I have grown to be a little detatched, even cold at times with the people with whom I was supposed to have the closest bond. The people that should - in theory - allow me to be myself. But no. I have walls and fences. I need to.
As the years went by I was often terrified that that was the true me. That I was broken beyond repair and could never be the loving person I knew was somewhere inside. Was the coldness crystalizing inside of me, making me slightly but permanently bitter? Fear and many questions.
Now I am happy. Because (again) as Elphaba sings, I'm not that girl. I just have another me that doesn't exactly define me as a whole, only my history with a certain group of people. And that double personality was born for a reason, it serves a purpose, and so I cannot feel guilty for its existence. Instead I should (and do) feel happy, for I am many, many other things.
And I can love. Wholeheartedly and... effortlessly.
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
So you make choices. It breaks my heart that I can't do musicals this year, but it's for a good cause; a greater cause, a better future. So I make my peace with it. I can't have everything. And it only makes me cherish what I do have so much more.
Sadly I'm the only one here thinking like this. They're all happy and proud(?) to see me grow. To see good things happening in my life, and with it good people. And yet resent me for not having as much time for them. But if this is an attempt to make me feel self-conscious about wanting to spread my wings and fly, then pout all you want and see if I care...
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
But guess what, dad? I don't need it. I'm outspoken and I don't pretend. I don't like playing games, I never have. I'm honest and true from the get-go. And someone will love me for it and find it just as thrilling. Or even more.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Não. Pelo contrário. O corpo não se move porque a alma não respira. Não tem espaço para isso. A felicidade espalha-se do interior até às paredes de pele. Mais e mais a cada dia. Sufoca e engole palavras. Cristaliza qualquer tipo de resposta. Fico com um sorriso idiota estampado no rosto e mais nada. Também que mais é preciso? Sou feliz e basta.
Monday, August 23, 2010
I was wrong. Thank God, I was so wrong! It turns out I'm bigger that myself. Much, much bigger. So many times this year I thought I'd freeze or pull away and I didn't. Numerous times, I didn't. Some little spark in me pushed me forwards into so many things that turned out to be great. Because a tiny fraction of myself - something that now grows without fear - decided to not be afraid of the unknown. And that made all the difference :)
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
I'm not like that. Nor do I want to be. I'm more of a it takes a village philosophy. People helping each other, talking, sharing and letting other people know they care. I ask for help all the time. Not because I can't handle it on my own (of course I sometimes can't; what to say? I'm only human), but a lot of times because I want to let people in, to let them be involved in my life. If helping others makes me feel so good and useful (and happy for the other person that no longer has a problem) why on earth should I feel embarassed to ask for help myself? And I'm a blabbermouth about my life. Seriously! I share my troubles like you wouldn't believe. Yes, sometimes I go a little overboard. But what are friends for if not to tell me to shut my big yapper? As for affection; I'm still getting used to it. But I'm bound to get there someday soon :)
I like people. Honest! Big fan here! And I want to let them in. It's that simple. And why not a village?
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
It's time to open those windows. To let in fresh air and happiness. It's time to feel good and be happy. Worries and troubles be damned! Life is short and it's yours. No one's gonna live it for you.
Monday, August 09, 2010
I keep hearing this in my head. It's all mine. Everything this family ownes will eventually be mine. And I don't mean this in a greedy materialistic way. I mean to say there is no one else. When they're gone I'll be alone. It's a sad truth to accept. This family is done for, I will be the last one standing. Try as I might I can't put how it feels into words. The impending loneliness. One day I will be without a family. Can you imagine that? No safety net. No people to belong with. No clan.
Unless I start a family of my own. That is the shining light I focus on. The little firefly I follow. Friends and loved ones. I will not be alone.
Sunday, August 08, 2010
It's odd. And as much as I sometimes want to leave it all behind and start anew and on my own, the fact is that's where I come from. I should give it a chance. Even if it's painful to remember.
The houses are old, practically falling apart. And now it's time to empty them, since we've basically been using them as a very old and decrepit storage space. Two huge attics. I've spent the morning walking around and going through boxes and boxes of toys, books (so many hidden pearls), old photographs (first time I saw a picture of my great grandfather), and so many other things. It has the exact feel as something out of a horror movie; every single time I had to open a closet or a closed door I half expected a corpse to fall down on me.
But still it's history. My history. And I'm the only one left to keep it going. If I don't show an interest or if I fail to learn it, it will die. People in old pictures will be just people. Random strangers smiling at us. Names on letters will be just names and special objects will lose their meaning. I feel like Vergilio Ferreira in Aparição. And it's sad.
Saturday, August 07, 2010
Thursday, August 05, 2010
There was this huge stuffed dog I was given the day I was born. I called her Lassie. Her stomach was empty (presumably at some point she must've had little stuffed puppies that were long gone before I could remember). Lassie was my partner in crime (or in my case, glutony). I used to walk into the kitchen with her (it's amazing how much you get attatched to these things you can't use it) in my arms, me all big eyed and innocent looking. Then I'd hide all the candy I could find in her stomach and ran hell for leather to my room to eat the goods.
I had Polly Pockets (the regular size, not the humongous things one sees nowadays) and lost them practically the second after I got them. A few Barbies but no Ken, so the poor things were so damned lonely... in those days lesbian wasn't a word (let alone a concept) a kid like me was very exposed to. Back then there were no Barbie houses or means of transportation (except for a pink carriage that got out when I was about six), so I used my rollerblades as cars and glued some matchboxes together to make the furniture.
There was a pink skipper and a pink bycicle (so I was a girly girl...) that I took ages to learn how to ride (my dad used to grab me by the collar and run alongside me so I wouldn't be afraid... needless to say he never looked more fit in his life).
I had one Nenuco (the regular one with no specials features... the only thing it did was blink its eyes) and a big yellow bear I nowadays miss for the sole reason it was were I used to read; I'd lie down on my bed with my back against it and I'd spend a whole afternoon there with a volume of Clube das Chaves in my hands. Sometimes I'd fall asleep it was so cozy, nestled against the yellow bear. Stuffed animals were a big thing in my bedroom; my uncle was specially gifted with The Claw (was the green aliens in Toy Story call it), and so I had tons of them.
Of all this (and of the many others who will go unmentioned) the one I will always cherish is my Simba. Yes, it was a stuffed little lion from The Lion King. I got him (there goes the it out the window) on my 9th birthday and he was the greatest thing ever. I slept with him, took him everywhere with me, told him all about my life. He was my Woody. It's the one toy from my childhood I never threw out nor do I intend to. It's old now and stays in a box 364 days a year. On Christmas Eve he gets out and keeps me company during Home Alone or The Nutcracker.
And that's my toy story, the childhood buddies that meant so much to me. My safe haven, my playground. I don't know, but the new Toy Story movie just got me all worked up about this...
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
Monday, August 02, 2010
First morning home and I'm already bored to death. There are tons of things I could do. Read books. Study (heck, there's something fun!). Watch movies. Watch tv shows. Play sonic or tekken. Read manga. And so on, and on, and on. But I want people. I miss and need people. Despite what is commonly thought, I'm no hermit. Well, no born hermit at least.
Sunday, August 01, 2010
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
I want to change. I need to change. I can change. How? How do you tear away your feelings and just become the happy go getter you want to be? How do you leave life's bus stop behind and start treading you own path towards happiness?
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Este ano não há férias. Nem sequer pseudo-folgas. Este ano é uma merda.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
I never understood those women. And then I grew up.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
I'm simply exausted...
Thursday, July 08, 2010
It's weird. Somehow I feel her more now than when she lived.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
O avô Aires morreu na minha adolescência. Era um fumador de mãos amarelas cuja rotina comigo sempre me deixou pensando que não tinha os pirolitos todos. Joana, sabes como se diz cão em espanhol? E em francês? E durante todos os anos que o conheci era apenas isto que me dizia. Isso e a mesma piada sobre alentejanos.
O avô Manata morreu há um ano e meio. Era um homem austero, feito de moldes antigos. Daqueles que se sentam à nossa frente até comermos a última ervilha que temos no prato, mas portador de um enorme amor silencioso. Jogador da lotaria durante largos anos. Infelizmente motivos de saúde não me permitiram guardar muitas memórias suas em tempos de lucidez.
Esta noite, morreu a avó - pausa para pensar no nome (pois para mim foi sempre a avó) - Leonilde. Foi a avó que me incutiu o gosto pelo cinema; com quatro anos levava-me ao Amoreiras a ver filmes da Disney. A meio do filme colocava-me um pano de cozinha no colo e uma carcaça com Nutela nas mãos. A avó...
O próximo ano lectivo apresenta-se negro. Provavelmente não haverá musicais, facto que me estilhaça o coração. Agora que começava a crescer de verdade tenho de deixar algo que tanto gosto em stand by por cerca de um ano.
Mas há pessoas. E essas (espero e acredito que) vão ficar. Encontrei estas criaturas estranhas há tantos anos procuradas, e não estou muito disposta a deixar a coisa ficar por aqui. E há quem eu sou hoje. Comovia-me olhar para o palco e pensar que hoje estou mais perto de ser assim. De interpretar, de deixar fluir, de criar. Que a voz cresceu de uma forma que não imaginava. E isto é algo meu. Algo que fica.
Porque os outros somos nós.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Monday, June 07, 2010
Acontece que quase à entrada da A5 não consegui mudar de faixa a tempo e acabei indo em direcção à ponte. Uma maçada que me deixou piursa (até porque só tinha uns poucos centimos na carteira, que não chegavam - nem de longe nem de perto - para pagar a portagem, ou seja, tinha de ir levantar dinheiro de propósito). Estava a fervilhar quando avistei uma placa a dizer Decathlon Almada. Bem, pensei eu, quem vai à Amadora também pode vir a Almada; sempre não se perde a viagem e a encomenda fica feita. Menos mal. Estacionei entrei e, só por puro descargo de consciência, fui à secção de dança ver se tinham algum dos artigos. Tinham as joelheiras. Nada mau. Encontrei uma funcionária e enquanto tentava explicar como era o sapato que pretendia, ela saca de um par escondido atrás do monitor do pc e pergunta se era aquele modelo. Era. Aparentemente senhora que os reservara desistira deles porque não lhe serviam. Virei-os. Eram o meu número. Jackpot!
Porque é que os dias não podem ser todos assim??
Sunday, June 06, 2010
Thursday, June 03, 2010
So when someone whose childhood and upbringing resembles the von Trapps minus the Germans comes all uppity towards me about respect... honestly I just wanna laugh at their faces. Respect? Are they serious?
E isto em duas horas e quinze minutos.
Alguém consegue identificar o problema??
Monday, May 31, 2010
Ora, por esta altura estava Portugal empatado com a Grã-Bretanha (à conta de um jogo chamado "A Alcachofra do Amor" ou qualquer coisa do género...). Eu, patriota que sou, desejei ardentemente que o ciclista inglês se espetasse. Dois segundos depois o coitado do rapaz espeta-se na rede ao descer a rampa. Feito que, aliás, repetiu vezes suficientes para não conseguir meter nenhum pão. Foi um momento bonito... Quase tão bom como ver um tipo da equipa da Jugoslávia (da Jugoslávia!! Meu Deus, se este programa é velho) vestido de corvo português a tentar trepar a uma nau e esborrachar-se no areal.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Sadly, he was already asleep when I got home today.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Ainda não é o fim do mundo. Mas já o vejo no horizonte...
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
E é por isto que o nosso país não avança. Redundâncias.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Isto causa-me urticária. O que é que querem? Faz-me espécie. Não compreendo. Não encaixa no meu sistema. Esta etiqueta toda para dois amigos de longa data. Há castiçais na sala!! E depois perguntam-me o que vou vestir. Honestamente!
É um desperdício de tempo e dinheiro. Até parece que é o Papa que vem jantar...
Thursday, May 06, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Acho um crime pedirem-me cerca de cinquenta euros pelo The Pillars of the Earth traduzido quando o posso comprar aqui a menos de nove no original. Não gosto dos livros em português. São demasiado grandes e pesados. Não dão jeito nenhum dentro da mala. São caros e desfazem-se com muito mais facilidade do que os ingleses. Comprei A Canção de Tróia na Feira do Livro há uns anos atrás. A capa descolou-se e o conteúdo dividiu-se ao meio (como costuma acontecer com os exemplares d'Os Maias dos Livros do Brasil). Agora tenho um tijolo partido em dois pelo qual paguei cerca de vinte euros sem serventia nenhuma. É uma piada de mau gosto!
Mas estou a afastar-me do propósito inicial do post.
Acho muito bem que haja a Feira do Livro. Estou 100% a favor que se incentive a leitura. E a Feira é gira, é um bom passeio, fazem-se boas compras, apanha-se sol e tal. Tudo bem. Talvez seja este ano que lá volte. Mas só para autores românicos.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Agora que essa fase já lá vai e a única coisa que resta é um piqueno inchaço na bochecha direita, segue-se uma semana a turbo. Recuperar nas leituras, nos apontamentos, nos artiguinhos. Ensaios. Consultas. Tarefas domésticas. Exercício físico e dieta (façam todos figas comigo!).
Friday, April 23, 2010
Alexandra asked me why I had found it so difficult to decide between the two ties.
"I thought, if I wore the plain dark blue one you would take it as a sign that I was depressed, or rather as a sign that I was giving in to my depression, instead of fighting it. But when I put on the bright one, I thought you would take it as a sign that I'd got over my depression, but I havent. It seemed to me that whichever tie I wore would be a kind of lie." Alexandra smiled, and I experienced that deceptive lift of the spirits that often comes in therapy when you give a neat answer, like a clever kid in school.
"You could have dispensed with a tie altogether."
"I considered that. But I always wear a tie to these sessions. It's an old habit. It's how I was brought up: always dress properly when you're going to the doctor's. If Ii suddenly stopped wearing a tie you might think it signified something - disrespect, dissactisfaction - and I'm not dissactisfied. Well, only with myself."
Já me disseram que devia ir para advogada (adivinhem lá quem?). Ou para marketing. Ou para artes de espectáculo, quer dentro quer fora do palco. Ou para educadora de infância (eu e criancinhas das nove às cinco?...). Ou para qualquer coisa que desse uso à minha capacidade de memorização (que as pessoas sobrevalorizam... saber de cor os 50 estados ou as diferentes datas de vários musicais (ou até ter jeito no Buzz) não é feito nenhum!). Até tu, ó Kepster, já me sugeriste fazer um curso de fotografia.
E isto baralha uma pessoa. É pouco consistente. Claro que eu fico felicíssima com o elogio de ontem... mas se os meus caríssimos colegas tivessem visto as horas e os dias que andei às turras com aqueles poucos versos... talvez a sua opinião fosse um bocadinho diferente. O resultado final é brilhante, sem dúvida, mas foi arrancado a ferros.
É verdade que quando fazemos as coisas com gosto elas saem bem. E eu mudo os meus gostos como o Andrew Lloyd Webber muda as suas músicas (que é como quem muda de camisa). Um dia apetece-me fazer um vídeo e no outro apetece-me brincar com cartolinas. O problema não está nos elogios. O problema é que me sinto uma pirralha mimada a brincar em diferentes àreas sem se conseguir decidir. E eu gostava muito que o meu "talento" me acompanhasse de forma consistente e não por devaneios e caprichos ou que andasse por aí ao sabor do vento.
E porque ninguém pode ser assim tão boa...
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
I was talking to a friend of my mom's (weird saying that) and we came across this gap. Blogs and diaries and privacy. I guess it's an age thing. My family doesn't get this either. They feel all sorts of ackward with the idea of having their most private thoughts published. Of course, that's not what happens blogwise. I mean, one can control the privacy level of their blog (there there's none!), or one can simply choose to not publish. Or write about something else. Something silly and not personal.
Of course sometimes (once in a blue moon) I might write things that I'm not comfortable publishing. Those go into my diary (Yes, I have one and even though the first entry says 2008, it's brand new...it has something like eight entries). But most times I have no issues with clicking on that nice big orange button that says publish message.
Diaries give me the creeps. They make me feel silly and very Rapunzel-like. I like to be out there. To feel I'm not locked inside some pages but instead I'm sending this (like Meg Ryan puts it in You've got mail) into the void. And someone might read it and even - hint, hint - reply.
I spend about sixteen hours a day with my computer on. I work, pause for five minutes, press F5, look at the monitor and go back to work. It makes me feel calm. It's like old ladies with cats and tv sets. Intead this is my window. This keeps me company and I don't feel alone because I'm always connected.