So happy together

We were walking home, hand in hand. And without stopping or slowing down he just said: We really have what it takes, don't we? I squeezed his hand and made a silly joke. We do, my love. We really do.

I love this so much

2010 - the readings

This was a very poor year, readings-wise. But here goes:

1. Equus, Peter Schaffer ****
2. The uncommon reader, Alan Bennett **
3. A terceira mãe, Julieta Monginho ****
4. Spring awakening, Franz Wedekind **
5. The amber spyglass, Philip Pullman ***
6. The melancholy death of Oyster Boy, Tim Burton **
7. A ilha debaixo do mar, Isabel Allende ***
8. Slam, Nick Hornby **
9. A arte de morrer longe, Mário de Carvalho *
10. The dark mirror, Juliet Marillier ****
11. The BFG, Roald Dahl ****
12. Blade of Fortriu, Juliet Marillier ****
13. The witches, Roald Dahl ***
14. Inês de Portugal, João Aguiar ***
15. The curious incident of the dog in the night-time, Mark Haddon ****

2010 - the good

Part Two. Here we go.



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 :)

News from paradise

So I've gone awol. The wolf came and the rest of the world ceased to matter. By the way, I'm very sorry for the lack of Christmas messages and the forgotten birthdays.

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.

I heart mondays

The wolf is coming!

I intend to do this so much!

2010 - the bad

I know it's a bit early for this post, but something tells me that in a near future I'll have little time to come here and write. So here it is. Part one.


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.

Too much goodness for readings

I'm packing for greatness. And for the first time in my life putting a book in my bag feels silly and unnecessary. Hihihi... nice...

Not that I care about presents...

Kids playing in the sand

Growing up I used to dream a lot. I made plans and lists. I imagined my own house, how big it would be, how many rooms, where I would put every piece of furniture. What books I'd read to my kids at night. How I would be with a boyfriend and then a husband. What car, which holiday destinations, which everything. Despite what people might think right now, this was not an obcessive or paranoid behaviour. At least not when put into perspective. It was a means of escape, of seeing something brighter ahead, in a future when I could take action, when I was the grown up. It was a way to pass time, time that I had to spend on my own, alone.



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.

Christmas suits us

Something's got a hold on me*

I've been in love before. But what I feel for the wolf is something different. Something otherwordly. And it has been this way ever since we met. There's this something that pulled me to him. Something that made me say yes when I'd normally say no. Something that made me want to jump, trust, believe. Something that is so much bigger than my fear of the unknown. Something that comes from the dark pits of my being and reaches/pushes the boundaries of my skin. Something truly bigger than a meerkat.

*Etta James

Kathleen Kelly in the making!

So I've been working for a little over a week now. I love it. Although I have to admit I had a very rocky start: one walks miles up and down the book section, my shoes were eating my ankles off, finding the books was a pain, I didn't get the way they were stored, the computers had way too many codes and numbers, memorising the whole process of making a sale took an embarassing amount of time and, hardest of all was being able to take care of several things at once and not piss off customers because they're not all I'm thinking about.

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.

Dream list

1) Work in a bookshop - check!

Welcome December

Leaving the old, buying the new

A few days ago I was chatting with a friend about moving and she was asking me how was I gonna take all my belongings with me and commenting gosh, what a huge workload it would be. Yes, I do have a lot of stuff, but I'm not taking it with me. Not all at once. Just bits and pieces of home. The mugs, some books, some magnets, my small painting of Brussels, yes, that's all going. And clothes, of course! But that's about it. First because I don't need to have all of it with me (so many new things and places to discover, what do I care about stuff!), and second because I don't want to. It's almost like a ritual; I'm shedding my own skin. I'm leaving the old me here and reaching my destination a stronger and more independent meerkat. So call me shallow, but some things I want to buy new. Like new slippers for a new home. And a new me.

Dumb luck

Some people say I'm lucky. It's true, I'm very blessed in many many ways. But what makes me a bit less than happy is the importance they give to luck. Almost like there's nothing else, and that's not the case. Sometimes almost like they think it's undeserved. I'm just lucky and it's not fair to the rest of the world. To these people I have only one thing to say: well, my friends, tough! I have had my share of pain and struggle, and I'm sure there will be plenty more of it throughout my life. That's the way it is. But what I have I deserve. I have worked and suffered for it. I'm not a martyr, but I'm also not a dumb bimbo who has it easy. I'm smart and resourceful, I work hard when I need to and I'm a nice person. I deserve all the love and good people around me. And all the luck that befalls me too.

Ding dong! Christmas is upon us!

Winter Wonderland

Today I did my Christmas tree. As I was arranging the lights and finding a place for all the balls and stars (to the sound of Mary Poppins, thank you very much), images of this new season kept popping into my head.

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.

The wolf is coming to town

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

It's Thanksgiving. Even though it's not really part of my culture, I just thought I'd join in and hold hands with the rest of the world. Mentally, of course. Because this year I have so much to be thankful for. I have a wolf in my life.

Ever since he came along

Yay for lists!

Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here.
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

McDreamies

Growing up I always had a very clear picture of what I wanted to find in a guy. Within the four walls of my bedroom and my boundless mind I dreamt and made lists. As time went by they grew longer and longer. That's wasn't so much because I was growing older and more articulate, but rather because I wanted to protect myself. By making it harder to find a match I somehow hoped to reduce my chances of getting hurt. I wanted someone compatible that would treat me differently than what I was accostumed to.

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.

Waiting for Christmas

Can't wait for Christmas. Everything is already set in my mind, just waiting for the dates to make it all happen. Waiting to rearrange the furniture in the living room and to decorate the Christmas tree. To put the jello thingies shaped like flakes in my car windows. Waiting to do the origami stars and stick them on my brother's window. Waiting to bake butter cookies and cook my gradma's old recipe again. Waiting to buy the presents. Waiting to have a wrapping session while listening to a Christmas cd. But most of all, I'm waiting for a plane with a wolf in it. Then it will trully be Christmas.

1st rule about meerkats

Do not say a word about responsabilities, chores or things to be done before breakfast is over. I mean it.

*****

Best Harry Potter movie ever!

Forward is the way

There's this Facebook thing where people choose a cartoon character from their childhood and leave it as their photo for the entire month of November. Usually it's the kind of thing I'd join in a heartbeat. But this time I really don't feel like it. People ask me why and I don't know what to say. I guess it's just this need to move forward. To grow up, open my wings and leave the nest as soon as I possibly can. And I really don't want to look back. Because ahead I see so many wonderful things. And I can't wait to meet them all.

How to render a meerkat speechless

Just send her a love letter on your monthversary and that should do the trick. It did here. Two days have gone by and still not a word. Speechless.

Memories fading

My memory is starting to fade. Even though I try to hold on to the memories as hard as I possibly can, deep down I realize this is a good thing. Because it hurts to remember what his skin smells like or how our hands fit together. There's still thirty three days to go. That's 793 hours, I mean, a person could go crazy! That's all I have to say, really. I miss him terribly, I wish I didn't have to forget, but then again, I think I welcome the numbness.

A musical a day

Being bored out of my wits, I decided to give myself a little challenge: to watch a musical a day for a week. Here are the results:

• The King and I
• Annie
• The music man
• Thouroughly modern Millie
• Damn Yankees
• Easter parade
• Kiss me Kate

Seize today

Harold Hill - Oh my dear little librarian. You pile up enough tomorrows and you'll find you've collected nothing but a lot of empty yesterdays. I don't know about you, but I'd like to make today worth remembering.

The Music Man

If you cover your nose you can't smell the roses

Shields that become walls

When I was a kid my dad used to tell me this made-up story at bedtime about a little girl with a cold nose. She was sad because her nose was always as cold as a dog's. After some complaining, the little girl got her grandmother to knit her a sort of small cloak to cover the nose and keep it warm. The girl's happiness gradually faded away when she realized that her covered nose didn't allow her to smell the roses in the garden or a hot bowl of soup. (Hey, it's been a long time since I tried to remember this, so cut me some slack!).

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?

The 3rd mugcake

The coffee sensation :)

Ain't it the truth?

'My darling,' she said at last, 'are you sure you don't mind being a mouse for the rest of your life?'
'I don't mind at all,' I said. 'It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like so long as somebody loves you.'

The Witches, Roald Dahl

Can I get a hallelujah?

Ok, so I'm going through his report and all of a sudden I'm finding words like furthermore and nevertheless and passive constructions. What? When did this happen?? Ahhhh... Lord, I'm so relieved! He finally realized he can do it on his own. Little by little the cord is being cut. Ain't that a reason to smile?

This cracks me up every time

Coffee and a bright future

There's this little cafe in Areeiro. A tiny little thing called CityLounge. The first (and last) time I went there was about four years ago. I felt right at home. It had this vibe sorta like Starbucks meets The Shop Around the Corner. Further description would be pointless.

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.

Silver lining

There's still fourty eight days to go, but as of today I can officially say that we'll meet next month.

Wouldn't it be lovely...*

... to fast forward like that?

*My Fair Lady

People that bug people

I'm getting looks now. And snotty comments. According to those two I have become one of them. For shame! I am now one of those brainless women that wait for a man. My life is on hold until he comes and until then my life has no meaning, my days have no air. Yes, this is what they think. Do I care? No, I don't. Who are they, anyway? One has been living in a disfunctional relationship for an embarassing number of years, the other has been alone for an entire lifetime (not that I think less of people for that, but then don't come with that holier than thou attitude like they would never make the same mistake).

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?

About flying and soaring...

"With all there is

Why settle for just a piece of sky"

Living in the future

Every day has little bits of time when I'm not living here. I'm living in the future. I'm projecting and planning and dreaming. I think of the things I'm going to take, in what order, when, how and where I'm going to put them. I'm practicing skills I never quite developed simply because until now I didn't need to. I dream about creating and adjusting to new traditions. New habits. And a new life. A happy life.

Mmmm... I really do

Where's Dick Van Dyke when you need him?

I find Mr Banks (David Tomlinson's character in Mary Poppins) a great example. He is the sort of father that provides for his family, comes home, pats the children on the head, all nice and proper, and that's it. Then after a talk with a chimney sweeper and after being fired he realizes the importance of smaller things like flying a kite with his kids. Things get better because he decides to change.

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.

We exist

We dream, we plan, we're happy.

2nd mugcake

Something went terribly wrong...

Silence is golden

Priorities and keys

I'm a bit off my game. There's parts of me that I've been neglecting for a while now. It's been months since I last danced. Ages since I last sang. Weeks since I've last watched a musical. I miss it. But right now it hurts too much. Right now I simply can't. I have to focus on other priorities. Other things in my life. Good things. I've stripped away part of me, put it in a drawer, locked it and wear the key near my heart. That's the way it's going to be for a while, a great while. And I'm not sad - quite the contrary, the future's looking bright! - but still I just know I'll miss it terribly.

My first mugcake

A little happiness and this is what happens :)

I have dreams. Lots and lots of them. And now that things are starting to happen, that I'm beginning to be the owner of my life and the one who calls the shots, they all want to be fulfilled. Like a bunch of little kids running towards Santa and crying Me first! Me first! non stop. I don't mind, really. I rather have them behave like this than being shoved all together in a drawer.

A week ago I left this on your bed

Today I mean it even more.

Round 2

That last post - adorable as it may be - totally got away from its original purpose. So let me start over:

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.

It takes a sandwich to make it perfect

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. And so when he rushed towards me my mind turned to jello and my body to stone. I had a cold and half eaten sandwich in my hand. I wasn't ready. I was supposed to have thrown that out and be holding a book. That's how things should've gone. Oh crap. Before I had time to react (in all fairness he spotted me first, so his brain had a couple more seconds to process it) I was in his arms. The sandwich still in my hand. It's silly, but for someone who dreamt about perfection for so long that tiny detail was getting on my nerves. I guess the perfect moments are never quite as we dreamed them to be. In this case, the stupid sandwich might just be something I will always remember and even cherish. Where was I going with this?...

Changes

So I changed the blog's face again. Turns out all that cute green was making me claustrophobic. Hence after much consideration (because I have very poor decision-making skills) here it is. Hope you like it. If you don't, at least I do.

The proper speed of things

Sometimes people ask me if it isn't all going a bit too fast. No, not really. Even before I met the wolf I knew I'd fall for him given the tiniest chance. If opportunity ever presented itself it would happen. And it did. Of its own accord and timing. And things just flowed naturally. Effortlessly. Some might say I'm trying to make up for lost time. To them I say that is just bollocks.

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.

Love on a chilly morning

Meerkat

I love my petname. Really. It doesn't have a great story behind it, it just mirrors how short, cute and sorta fluffly-looking I am and the fact that I have a good memory and notice things. I always liked it by itself. Then the wolf started calling me that and I fell for it like you wouldn't believe. I'm someone else's meerkat and suddenly the sun shines brighter. And that's it right there; hearing the words my meerkat just makes the knees go weak and sucks the air out of my lungs. Mmmmm... *purrs*

On loop

Long distance is a pain...

... but being with you is so incredibly great that I'd pay this price anytime. And it's still a bargain, because we're so great together :)

Right now I'm typing to keep from crying. I made a promise and I will prevail. I can be stronger than myself. So feel free to ignore me, and please, if you choose to continue, cut me some slack.

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 :)

The old new times

No, no, no, the movie I always go back to is You've Got Mail.

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 :)

I did

Did you say it? "I love you. I don't ever want to live without you. You changed my life." Did you say it?

Elementary dating

Weather turning

There's electricity in the air. A great storm is coming, I can just feel it. I'm boiling inside. All the little(?) things are building up and rising higher and higher. Until I can't breathe when they're in the room. So I leave. I'm an avoider now. Because if I don't I'm sure I'll say or do something I'll regret later. It's all about the browny points. It's sad and pathetic that your family life can be downsized to this: browny points, but there you go. And I'm not about to let those hard earned browny points get lost just because I can't stand this situation anymore.

Slow start

Life lessons & meddlesome people

In life there are a bunch of lessons you must learn. Lessons most people learn from making their own mistakes. And that's good, that's great, I have no issue with it whatsoever. What troubles me is the people. The meddlesome people. And the hypocricy of the fact that incorporating those lessons into your life is only commendable if you've made the mistakes as well.

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?

The love obcession

Growing up I was always obcessed about love. I had a rocky start in life, and so I distinctly remember being a very small kid watching Snow White on tv and thinking to myself One day someone will come and love will rescue me from this life. So I got majorly into the whole Prince Charming, "love will conquer all" sort of philosophy. Fairy tales, chick flicks, tear jerkers, sappy music, you name it! it was my life. I distincly remember passing entire afternoons lying on my bed staring at the ceiling and listening to Celine Dion. Or watching Moulin Rouge or Dirty Dancing again, and again, and again.

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...

Technology

Oh, the joys and pains...

Refresh

Decided this space needed some drastic change. Name and all. It's only natural, given all the personal growth there's been around these parts. I'm a totally different person, I'm a meerkat now!

Speed of sound*

When August kicked in I was plain old ordinary me. As I've always been. Now September is near its end and I'm facing someone completely different. I have leaped and grown more in couple months than I have in years. On so many levels. Every day I look in the mirror in awe. Seriously, it's nothing short of amazing what you can do when you're truly happy and when you start loving yourself. And others too :)

*Coldplay

One day...

... I'll say See you tomorrow! and really mean it :)

I'm a good girl, I am*

Exam in about 24 hours...

*My Fair Lady

Forward and back

It's getting increasingly hard. To think baby steps. I'm tired. As Tegan and Sara sing, I wake up exhausted. Like someone stuck a straw on my brain and sucked it dry. As the day approaches it's harder to keep thinking this is nothing. Just an ordinary exam.

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.

Names...

- ... e como é que se chama a cadeira?

- Tradutologia.

- Traumatologia?

- Pois, também serve.

That's *just* it

I was sitting in that same chair. Talking and moving my hands, like I always do. My words were going in circles. I was repeating myself. Saying things that always led to the same conclusion. Talking and talking and talking, trying to convey what it really meant, how it really felt.

- ... 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.

Dalek Masterpiece Theatre: Much Ado About Nothing

Joy kicks in at 5 pm

People within a person

I am many people. We all are. It depends on where and who we are with. Me as a professional. Me as a member of a family. Me as a friend. Me in love. Many, many mes.

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.

Mess

V. - I'm a mess.

S. - We're all a mess. Don't you know that by now? All I know is I don't mind finding out... who you are.

Private Practice, S.02xE.11

Heil myself*

*The producers

Of choices

Things change. You evolve, you move forward. And so things change. No matter how much you try days will continue to have only 24 hours. It's a bit like juggling; you can try and add more balls, but at some point if you cross your own limits it'll all fall down.

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...

Of honesty and thriller

I remember this father-daughter moment. We were by the balcony, he was smoking and imparting knowledge. Giving me advice, he said. The trouble with you, he added, is that you don't hide and seek. And in love people like the chase. You just give and say everything right there. With you there is no mystery and no excitement. He told me to change, to be more evasive and aloof. Time and again I tried to change. I got sick of it and gave up.

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.

On joy :)

Happy silences

Por vezes fico muito calada. Como se tivesse zarpado para fora de mim. Um sinal a dizer Volto Já à porta e a conchinha vazia. O corpo não reage, o sistema desligou. Offline. É o que parece. E a pergunta vem sempre: Estás bem? Ficaste tão calada de repente. Estás triste?

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.

The unexpected self

I have lived most of my life indoors and inside myself. So I kept thinking, picturing, imagining how I would be out there. How I'd feel and what responses and reactions I'd have. Theory became so clear that I was positive there was no room for mistake. I knew myself inside and out and was sure of it.

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 :)

No ouvido # 4

On loop for days

Watch how I soar*

Today, when looking for my CV, I came across a wide range of half forgotten things. Audio files, videos and photos of several things I've done in the past few years. Little by little I have touched so many things that I love. Sang in a choir. Sang solo. Danced a lot. Did two little plays. A musical and a musical medley. I have grown out of that feeble little girl that yarned for the stage and spotlights but never even dared to try. I have tried. I loved it. And I love myself for it.

*Serenity

What are you hiding, my friends?

Sometimes I look at sentences for ages, staring and wondering what do they truly mean. What is lying under the surface. Mmmm...

Be happy, funny and whimsical

Life's too short for seriousness.

Dear visitors

I would love to write here. To post. And I bet that if I tried it wouldn't be hard at all. But somethings are better left unsaid. Or at least unshared.

If you want to help, don't help!

Sometimes it's true that if you want something done right do it yourself. It's easier and quicker than having someone "helping" you out and then cleaning up their mess. I want help, of course I do. I've had eight years of this and I'm beyond and beyond fed up. But if you want to help, please, don't make it worse. Thank you.

SYTYCD 7 - Lauren (Spoilers!)

At Last

It takes a village

Where I grew up the policy was to always help others but never ask for help yourself, unless it was absolutely unavoidable. Each person should learn how to fix their own problems. A person's burdens, secrets, problems and worries should be kept private. No telling or sharing, no asking for a helping hand. Also displays of affection where uncommon and perceived as unnecessary; people should know for themselves their were loved and that was it.

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?

Let the sunshine in*

Imaginem uma janela fechada com as cortinas corridas. Agora peguem nos puxadores e abram-nas de par em par. E imaginem que o que vêem é a paisagem mais bonita do mundo, que é algo que vos deixa mesmo felizes. Agora cantem com esse sorriso.

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.

*Hair

Whatever gets you going :)

Follow the firefly

Joana pick what you want.

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.

The corners of my mind

I look at things and have this familiar feeling that it means something. I push my brain and strive to remember. The names of my dolls. The handwriting on old letters. The pictures of people that have my nose or my hair. And my mother. Finding her pictures. Learning what kind of books she enjoyed. The stuff she knitted.

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 house of old, the house of clutter

There is a house (technically, there's two houses) where my family used to live decades ago. The house where my grandfather grew up, where my dad took some of his wedding pictures, where we lived for a brief moment after my mother passed.

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.

Up, up, up and away

I want to live. I deserve to live. To claim my life as my own property. To spread wings and fly. To crash if need be. And then get up and try again.

A toy story

Growing up I had the strongest of bonds with my toys. They were my world. My friends and buddies. Once I fell out of my bed because I've tucked all my playmates with me and when I was done there was little room left. I don't remember them all I had so many (not that that means extra happiness in any way, shape or form). But here's some of what I can recall:

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...

Cool like Fonzie

I don't like to be evasive and keep to myself, but where I grew up it kinda comes with the territory. Right now I'm on bright and shiny mode. Except finding time to study (really, being home alone with my brother kinda comes with a lot of chores) my life's not half bad. The tricky part is that all the sparkliness has to fade away into a state of coolness when people get home. And I hate it. Right now I can't find a downside to it. But if I don't switch off bright and shiny I'm sure I will.

People who need people*

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.

*Funny girl

Lobsters

When I was kid I believed in lobsters. Then adolescence kicked in and I grew against the whole notion of lobsters. Now I'm back into believing, only because I've seen a fair share of them and it's a nice sweet dream to believe in. And who knows?...

The power of sugestion

Today is gonna be a good day. A mild, gentle day. With a wicked night on top. Today I'm going to be happy.

The secret of loveliness

Sarusa in a box

Have you ever had the feeling that your life is drowning you under? Of being trapped living the life of a 50 year old when you're not even 25? Right now my life feels like a long slow walk to the cemetery. I feel old. And unlived. Like those star wars toys that become collectors' items and never even leave the box.



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?

Férias é...

... pegar na mala e partir. Acordar com um horizonte diferente. É idas à praia, mesmo que feitas por comboio. É ler um livro por semana. Acordar sem despertador. Deixar empoeirar os dicionários. É não fazer cambalhotas com a agenda. É ter a pele salgada e os sonos mansos. Comer peixe como se não houvesse amanhã. É borgas e noitadas. É deixar o relógio em casa.

Este ano não há férias. Nem sequer pseudo-folgas. Este ano é uma merda.

It's all so quiet...

When I was a child I used to watch women on tv crying without making a sound or even moving a muscle. They looked so peaceful, like nothing was happening. Their eyes just happened to be leaking. It always puzzled me. It enfuriated me because how could they be so calm? How was it possible to feel so much pain and keep it in you as if nothing's wrong? Why the strain? If you're sad you should just cry, people be damned. In fact, if you've been hurt people should know they caused it.

I never understood those women. And then I grew up.

Às criaturas estranhas

Os outros somos nós

HSM philosophy to me through

This is not to be viewed as The End, but rather as the start of something new.

Making light of something heavy

Echo...

I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of feeling alone. Of worming my way into people's lives. Of being special for all the wrong reasons. Of never being my age. Of people presuming I'm different because it's just my nature, because is just some random coincidence. Or worst, that I like being and and living like this. Of thinking that I'm cold and detatched. Of being branded my the past.

I'm simply exausted...

Thank you

I'm all good now. Well, at least patched and on the way to an "all goodness" state of mind. And I wouldn't have gotten this far without her.

Five minutes after I heard and published the news she was asking me how I was. I crumbled. Lost all composure and cried and blabbed it all out. It made me good. And throughout this past week she kept checking on me. And that made all the difference. So thank you B for being here :)

Voices

Yesterday, as I was cutting his hair I kept hearing nana's voice. What she would say if she saw me playing with the razor, making patterns on his head until there was nothing left to cut. Then later she babytalking him to sleep. Calling us by those old petnames.

It's weird. Somehow I feel her more now than when she lived.

2nd round

Amanhã pela fresquinha (se é que tal temperatura existe...) o meu irmão vai novamente à faca. Aquela coisinha de 22 anos e 28 quilos. Um pauzinho com vida. Fininho e fraquinho. Há vidas que realmente...

Nana Cellophane

You always think monday's gonna come, and then you'll go there because you promised them. But for us there's no more mondays.

Grandparents

A avó Quitéria morreu quando eu era muito pequenina. Tinha um ano e pouco. Não me apercebi de nada. Nunca carreguei comigo lembrança nenhuma dela. Conheço-a por terceiros.

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...

Nice impressions

Tu és uma rapariga tão romântica; deves dormir com um livro à cabeceira e alecrim e rosmaninho na almofada.

Sunday plans

They can't take that away from me*

Ontem fiz uma viagem interna durante um micro concerto. Acerca dessa noite e dos últimos meses.

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.

*info here

One big world full of no*

The world is grounding me like a stupid teenager who just got drunk, spent the night out and flunked finals. It's Murphy Law at its best. I would love to whine into the fullest detail. But I won't. Because I'm tired and this only makes feel even sadder. So I'll just say no. No Andanças. No vacation. No going to the beach. No Musicals. What's left to live for?

*Chicago

Oklahoma - People will say we're in love

I have a soft spot for this :)

Empty tin

There are days when I simply cannot bring myself to love my brother. And that doesn't make me bad; it makes me human.

The Universe playing nice

Hoje resolvi ir encomendar uns sapatos de dança jazz e umas joelheiras na Decathlon (coisa que já devia ter feito há mais de um mês porque levavam semanas a chegar à loja).

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??

Life as a construction site

Pérolas de mestrado # 7

Estou perdido no transfer.

Les sans-papiers

Isto mexe comigo até às entranhas

Perspectives

No one can see the world through anyone else's eyes. It's like what she posted here. People can't visit and they never truly know us.

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?

Da matemática do tempo

Traduzir um texto de 450 palavras sobre relógios atómicos e nanotecnologia, um texto de 470 palavras acerca de combustíveis de aviação e óleos alimentares. Ah, e uma primeira parte que consiste em redigir 4 mini dissertações (cerca de 500 palavras cada) sobre os seguintes temas: carros híbridos, propriedades dos materiais, secagem de alimentos e minas.

E isto em duas horas e quinze minutos.

Alguém consegue identificar o problema??

Mental powers over the past

Hoje, durante uma pausa dos estudos apanhei os Jogos sem Fronteiras no RTP Memória e fiquei a ver uma prova entitulada "A Corrida do Padeiro". Consistia em fazer um ciclista descer uma rampa de grande inclinação com um cesto de padeiro às costas, contornar uma mini rotunda onde estava outro membro da equipa a coloca-lhe pães no cesto. Depois o padeiro tinha de subir a rampa, no cimo da qual estava outro membro da equipa que lhe retirava os pães para outro cesto. Ganhava quem conseguisse colocar mais pães no último cesto.

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.

Supermagic smile*

My brother has a superpower: he smiles. And when I'm down and the world has kicked my ass I go to his bedroom, I kiss his cheek and suddenly there it is. A huge smile and one tiny hand pushing me towards him and asking me to play. I'm big again. I made him happy and that's all it matters. I can take over the world after that.

Sadly, he was already asleep when I got home today.

*Grey's Anatomy

Pensamento do dia

Um musical nunca está pronto.

A crisis is born

A frequência de tradutologia foi uma carnificina. Neste momento de ideias quentes e em que também o S. Pedro parece andar deprimido, sinto-me uma nulidade. Um falhanço. Só tinha uma grande responsabilidade este semestre. E deu-me uma das maiores brancas da minha vida. Troquei-me toda, o cérebro fez greve após uma noite de duas horas de sono entrecortadas pela hermenêutica...

Ainda não é o fim do mundo. Mas já o vejo no horizonte...

I miss...

... dinner with friends, even if it's only till elevenish p.m.

Conversa verídica

Minha senhora, nós não temos aqui os papéis porque o fax da repartição de Oeiras avariou e portanto como o fax avariou nós não temos aqui os papéis. No entanto nós ligamos para lá o que nos disseram foi que o fax estava avariado e portanto não podiam enviar os papéis. Olhe, vá a Oeiras.

E é por isto que o nosso país não avança. Redundâncias.

Common ground

- E mais exemplos?

E eu olho para ela com aquele ar de cumplicidade conterrânea e digo: Frankenstein. E não é preciso mais nada.

Close to perfection

Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril

Lost in translation

Silence is golden

Hoje tive de tomar uma decisão difícil. Para piorar as coisas cometi - num momento de fraqueza - a insensatez de me abrir com ele. Deu merda! Claro! Estúpida! Estúpida! Estúpida!

The Stepford dinner party

Hoje há um jantar cá em casa. Quer isto dizer que está tudo em estado de sítio. Lavam-se pratas. Arranjam-se velas e flores. Preparam-se entradas e lava-se o serviço. Aspira-se a casa de uma ponta à outra. Escondem-se comandos de televisão, dvd etc...

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...

Pérolas de mestrado # 6

Traduzir uma peça de teatro é como montar uma casa no ikea.

That's all a person needs

Feira do livro

Antigamente era tradição, um passeio pela Feira do Livro. Em pequena era o meu pai que me levava e me oferecia um livro e um gelado. Anos mais tarde passei a ir com amigas. Começava a poupar em Janeiro para o festim livresco que era a Feira do Livro. Saía sempre de lá com os pés cansados e os braços carregados. Depois descobri essa maravilha das compras online. Nunca mais voltei. Isto porque agora raramente compro livros em português.

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.

Restarting

Arrancar um dente tem o seu quê de recomeço. Passam-se uns dias no choco, fortemente medicada e a líquidos e papas e depois começa uma sucessão de primeiras vezes. A primeira vez que conseguimos comer sólidos. A primeira vez que conseguimos baixar a cabeça. A primeira vez que conseguimos lavar os dentes. A primeira vez que conseguimos dançar à vontade sem nenhum ai Jesus!

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!).

Desejem-me sorte.

Us overthinkers

"Well, I mean, a tie for God's sake! I wasted half an hour of my life anguishing about... I mean, how trivial can you get?"

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."

Therapy

The art of embellishment

God can I relate to this...

What am I, a superstar?

Eis porque fico tão reticente com os elogios: porque os recebo pelos motivos mais díspares. Aparentemente as pessoas acham que sou boa a tanta coisa que se torna difícil de acreditar. Cantar. Dançar. Vídeos. Trabalhos manuais. Fotografia. Escrever. E agora tradução de musicais.

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...

It's foggy in Sarusaville