Tuesday, September 9, 2008

a flork message...

Hi there,

Thanks for the good words... They cheered me up a great deal. Down here, things aren't fun either. I keep reposting old entries on my blog as I haven't been feeling like writing much. It's been wildly crazy around here. Been working my butt off and hardly ever getting rewarding smiles or fullfilling words from my students or their parents. Let´s not get started with the adults... since i teach all ages, I get to realize that, no matter people's age, I will always have hard time to get my teachings across. My methods are far from traditional and that is just the way I am. The lack of tradition and my faulty memory is never forgiven and I don't blame them. I never rely on note pads, or palm tops, or my pc to write down my tasks and that kills me. I sometimes try to start standard procedures but in two or three days I am totally out of them.

Maybe for the fact that I do not have a child of my own, people don't see me responsible enough to teach kids well... or they believe that I just can´t make them behave properly in class. I don't know what to do with brats who talk back to me. I am not the kind of teacher who likes to use authority as a tool to get what is best out of my students as I don't think this is the right way. I can't work with slower minds. I can't handle people with learning disorders. I am not perfect. I just can't be that.

I don't write as often as I want and I don't get to write about everything I deeply want since many of my students read my blog and I would feel really uncomfortable to write all I want. Perhaps, I'd better initiate another blogspot and at this time I'm not gonna advertise it. Keeping it personal and that would be it.

I am really sorry that it takes me too long to reply my flork messages or that I don't give feedback on your comments on my blog. That all happens because I am a way crazy busy individual who has difficulties in dealing with all my duties and efforts. My life is hard and I can really say that. It is hard not because of my overwhelming 42 hours in class weekly, besides extra hours handling admnistrative school matters, and on top of all those things I also live in the school building because I can't afford a home, blah, blah, blah... My life is not hard for all that... It is hard because I work with people and people DO suck.

you take care,
Laila

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Reposting old stuff...

For a while, I have turned my blog into a photo-blog and I don't give a damn about it... No!!! No, I haven't quit writing. I had just not felt well enough to spread the words here for you guys to read until today. After about a month not publishing anything in here, I took the decision to gather some words in order to release an obnoxious flame that has been burning and soring my heart. I hope these words will come out right and fit properly to what I've been going through.

This may not be a real problem. In fact, I do believe it is not a problem at all. It is a flame, as I've just said. In reality, It is an issue that I've dealt since I was expected to behave like a grownup. Don't know whether being a spoiled kid made me have a weak control over my speaking thoughts. Many times I say what crosses my mind. Very often, I splurge the words not knowing the consequences of them. After saying them aloud, I can't get a decent sleep over. I regret so hard afterwards. What scares me the most is that even knowing the consequences sometimes, I say them anyway. I hurt, I blow, I affect, and I know.

But worse than that is not having the guts to act or behave the way in which my words speak for me. I am just a person full of words, issues, and projects. Some even say that MY words are powerful. They fill the emptiness and turn whatever is hollow into PLENTY. Maybe they are powerful to move others but they are not helping me much. My words seem to depict a wrong picture of me. For instance, I am NO powerful at all. I'm a chicken shit loaded with dreams.

I've not grown up YET. I haven't been able to come up with my own decisions anymore. I haven't felt strong enough to take my own paths like I used to. I have not been capable to keep myself away from fears. Well, this whole situation has not been EASY...

Some changes will be made in my lifestyle so that I can put out this flame once and for all:

  • Firstly, I need to take a break from MSN MESSENGER and ORKUT things for a little while. It's getting overwhelming and I've not been able to write these days just because of those addictive shits.
  • Then, I need to read. Reading helps me write better. MSN and other internet activities of mine are demanding time from me and stealing my creativity away.
  • I need to listen to music more.
  • I need to take walks more often.
  • I need to watch movies.
  • I need to go to the movies.
  • I need to play with TIBBY - well that i do all the time.
  • I need to study languages more. I'm glad that at least I got back on my German studies. I'm a language teacher for crying out loud. It is more than required to keep my English knowledge fresh and updated.
  • I need to handwrite my thoughts.
  • I must concretely start working on my trip to GERMANY. I am planning to spend a month there so that I can finally study the language in a German spoken place! This thing demands time... And my staying online this much is delaying this PROJECT.
  • And lastly, I need to post my words here more often. Even contradicting a little, blogging is part of my writing practice and I can't stop doing it for any reason in this world!!!

Hopefully after these changes that flame will quit burning soon... and my heart will then be healed.



PS- This entry was originally posted in September/2005

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Friday, July 25, 2008

10 years ago...

10 years ago, I was 12 kilos thinner, my hair was lighter, and my head gazillion times emptier.

10 years ago, I was surrounded by many people: acquaintances, co-workers, and so-called friends, had more fun places to go, and fewer responsibilities.

10 years ago, I lived in an apartment. Now, I live in a school and have a pet cat to look after.

10 years ago, I subscribed to Rolling Stone magazine. Now, I subscribe to scientific magazines.

10 years ago, I dreamed of having babies. Now, I'd be happier if I could adopt 2 more cats.

10 years ago, I lived in a false happiness promoted by parties and drunkenness. Now, I live in a false happiness promoted by work load and drunkenness.

10 years ago, my skin was tanner for I lived in Florida by the water. Now, my skin is as pale as corn starch although I do not live too far from the ocean.

10 years ago, I was 100 thousand dollars shorter but I would spend more recklessly.

10 years ago, I knew to speak only English and Portuguese. Now, I barely know English.

10 years ago, I believed that evil figures would only exist in movies. Now, I know that that was a great deviation.

10 years ago, I spoke softer, cried more easily, and was betrayed way too often.

10 years ago, I would have loved to go dancing at crazy raves. I've never been to one, and don't carry a dust of wish to be in one one day.

10 years ago, I'd drive drunk listening to loud music heading to the closest liquor store. Now, my husband does it for me.

10 years ago, I watched TV in the afternoon and worked at night. Now televisions work fine as a mere piece of ornament in the house.

10 years ago, I read books about art. Now, I read books on the art of teaching.

10 years ago, I'd teach English for beer. Now I do it for airline tickets.

10 years ago, I carried phone numbers in an electronic organizer. Now, I only need E-mail addresses.

10 years ago, I'd vent at a bar table speaking ill of my boss. Now, my associates speak ill of me.

10 years ago, I'd suffer from terrible cramps when I was in my periods. Now, I still suffer from the same damn thing.

10 years ago, I had only one pair of All Stars. Now, I own twelve of those.

10 years ago, I would not exchange a night out for movies and sweets at home. I love movies at home with gummy bears and candies.

10 years ago, I drank coffee for the pleasure only. Now, I need coffee to think, stand up, and lift my arms while I write on the blackboard.

10 years ago, I was ten years younger (wow).

10 years ago, I had lived not long enough to understand that sex and love lie in total different realms.

10 years ago, I used to fold clothes but not ironing them. Now, I neither iron nor fold. I pay someone to do these things for me.

10 years ago, I was Milton's oldest daughter or simply Laila. But now, I am that crazy lady from Sao Paulo, the English teacher, Roberto's wife, Tibby's owner, that person who drives a Subaru, or even "puta" as it was graffited on my school wall the other day, or any other label you would like to give me.

Monday, July 21, 2008

brill

I am one and several selves, all fragmented, fragments of the same mirror, but that speak in different tongues, all invented, all created by the pain inflicted upon me, the pain, the shame, the need to become other, to reinvent all that was real.

As I write my mind swims in ideas, they scream to my ears, they beg to come out. It’s as if I’m keeping the world locked inside me, the real world that at times I pretend not to see. I shut my eyes, my ears and my sensitivity in order to protect myself, I shut everything out, I don’t want to see the reality, the self-absorbed, intangible human beings that live their lives as if it was a soap opera, no brains, no real feelings. Where are the real people? Where are all the bohemians?

Meanwhile, while I seek, while I go out in the world searching, my mind screams, my mind makes me look at the world in several different ways, all the selves, all the multiple personalities that were created to keep me alive speak at once. My hands tremble and my mind spins, there’s this monster that wants to come out, this monster that pushes me forward, the monster of the real me, the real person that has so much to show, so much to communicate, even if to deaf ears, it’s just the need to come out in the light and scream at myself, show that I haven’t been that wrong. It’s the monster of my desire, of my necessities, making everything so visceral, everything so unforgivably necessary.

So I wake up, take my shower, put on my pretty face. It’s always the same face, everyday, the same face for the same office, the same people, the same lunch. The real one is locked in my bedroom, the bedroom that is not mine, since I haven’t found myself a house I could call mine up to now. The real face, the real me, the real clothes, the real tears are all locked in my closet, they are all inside the hat boxes that are piling one on top of the other, almost reaching the ceiling. One day I will have to carve a hole in it, to let the pile grow taller, if not, then I will have to wear the real face in public, show the real emotions, everything that really matter and then the world is going to collapse. Tsunamis and earthquakes, the world is not ready for me just yet.


by Mme. A., posted on August 11th 2004

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Someone touched my CHEESE!

Life does not look hard among those who do not struggle to make it happen... Gosh


I SHALL EXPLAIN THIS POST LATER!

The Shwah Alphabet for English

Did you know that there is another way of writing things in the English language? It's the Shwah alphabet. This alphabet is another way of writing English, an alternative to this Latin alphabet. Why would we want another alphabet, when we already have this one? There are two main reasons:

- because the Shwah alphabet is a better alphabet for English than the Latin alphabet is,

- and because Shwah is a universal alphabet that can be used to write many of the world's languages.

I don't have to explain to you that English spelling is crazy - you learned that in school. You had to learn that why, rye, sigh, buy, tie & hi all rhyme, but that rough, cough, though, through & bough don't. And you probably have a dictionary (with pronunciation guide) or a spell checker nearby.

Having crazy orthography not only makes it harder for us all to learn to read and write while growing up, but it also makes it harder for speakers of foreign languages to learn English and for us to learn their languages. How are we supposed to know that the Champs Elysées is pronounced shawn zayleezay?

But why don't we just fix English spelling, keeping our familiar alphabet? Well, many people have tried to do that, but it turns out that the results aren't as familiar as you'd think. Here are some examples:

Wuns upon a midnít dréry, wíl í ponderd wék and wéry
Over meny a kwaynt and kyuriyhs vahlyum ev forgahtn lor,
W'iyl 'I nadid, nirli na.ping, sa'dnli xer ke'm a' ta.ping
as av sM wN jentlE raping, raping at mI kAmbR dor
"'Tiz sœm vizit'r", ai mœt'rd, "tæping æt mai cémb'r dor - ónlí dhis ænd nœthing mor."

By the time you've learned how to spell and read familiar words all over again, you might as well learn a new alphabet.

The Shwah alphabet isn't the first new alphabet for English, either. One of the best is the Shavian alphabet (named after George Bernard Shaw), which looks like this:

But the Shwah alphabet may be the first universal alphabet, designed to be shared by many languages. It has a total of 50 letters, but each language will only use the ones it needs. Each letter might be pronounced slightly differently for different languages - an English b sounds subtly different from a French b or a Chinese b - but we don't really care.

The Shwah alphabet is also featural: letters share features with their sounds. For example, rounded vowels are round, and closed vowels are closed. Sounds made in the front of the mouth point towards the front (left), and sharp sounds are sharp letters. As a result of this metonymy, letters that sound alike look alike.

Take a look at it now, and we'll discuss it more afterwards.


As you can see, the Shwah letters don't correspond exactly to English letters, but they correspond to the English sounds.

Here's a box showing the English consonants, along with examples of their use:



The last three consonants are called semivowels, because they're actually vowels acting as consonants.

You may never have realized it, but we English speakers pronounce l very differently at the end of words or syllables, as in the difference between oily and oil. In Shwah, we use a different letter for this "dark" final l. This letter is actually a ligature, a combination of two letters, as you'll learn later.

Here are the English short vowels:



The otter vowel doesn't occur in American English. Where Brits use it in words like cot, Americans use the almond vowel, and where Brits use it in words like caught, Americans use the awful vowel.

In English, the rhythm of a word - which syllables are stressed and which aren't - is very important. In Shwah, stressed vowels are written high - in the top half of the line - and unstressed vowels are normally written low - in the bottom half of the line.

Here are the English long vowels:

As you can see, the long vowels are written with two short vowels, just as in the Latin alphabet. The second vowel is always one of the three glides itchy, cookie or early, written low. In the vowels eagle and oozy, the second vowel is the same as the first, so it's replaced with the Long sign, a horizontal line.

Now look at the following three words:

Note that the Long sign is usually written underneath a high vowel.

The vowel in fuel is the same as the vowel in fool, except there's a y in front of it. The same vowel occurs in unit, beauty, pure and many other English words, but we don't need another letter for it: it's just written yoo.

Now that you've learned the letters, why don't you try reading some sentences?




Saturday, July 12, 2008

A sunny winter Sunday

While people enjoy summer time in the northern hemisphere, down here hubby and I go for a drive to have lunch somewhere away from town on a cool Sunday afternoon:

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Finally something for you to read...

It's Sunday and it is past noon. It is actually almost one o'clock now. Roberto is getting ready to hit the shower. And finally I got to meet some time to type a couple of words here. Depression is hidden somewhere. My fingers don't seem to find the right keys out of this keyboard which would sum up words about this topic: depression. I don't want to pretend everything is fine because I'd be obviously lying to myself. I want to write here what I see happening to me. I totally spazzed out, fell down a stair, and started frantically crying at church a couple of weeks ago. What was I doing at church? There is this nice restaurant right next to it. There, I had litters of red homemade wine. After my fine lunch and gallons of wine, we decided to take a walk around the church yard. I stopped walking right at the edge of some stairs and noticed doves flying over tall trees. Is there anything worse than the sound of frantic wings flapping in our ears?! I got dizzy and lost balance. My right foot landed on the floor in wrong position. As a result, I sprained my ankle and ended up having partial tearing of ligaments. My orthopedist said that I had second degree ankle sprain which consistes in moderate tearing of the ligament fibres, some instability of the joint, moderate pain, some difficulty walking, besides swelling and stiffness in the right ankle joint. I actually started writing this post three weeks ago, so my ankle does look better now but it is far from what it was before. The swelling is not noticeable and the bruises are fading. Many things got across after this incident: that I am getting old, that I've been drinking more than any normal person would do, and that this sedentary life is not gonna make me last too long. Funny I should type these things because right now, on a Sunday evening, I am lying in bed, having some local black stout, and figuring out what I should have for dinner (actually, where I should call for food delivery.) I'd been under accute stress in the beginning of this year until I finally calmed down. Yeah, my sprained ankle came to me in a good moment. I've got new staff working with me and this new vibe going on here is helping me get healed up. Even my Valentine's night was nice and nothing went wrong. Brazilians celebrate Valentine's on June 12th. I know this is quite weird, anyway, I'm glad I get to receive Valentine's present twice a year just because of that. I am not the type who would complain...  
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This year, I got as a Brazilian Valentine's day gift this way good Dutch perfume (I didn't know they could do better perfumes than the French). I also got a set of body moisturizers and wonderful dinner at this extremely expensive and awfully good Italian place we have here in our local area. While waiting for a table, we got to fill our champagne flutes four times straight. I came to be headed to our table already high but not too much drunk. We had an OKAY dinner with lotsa joy. Another brilliant thing we have done is setting our new video room. Finally we have a room with a cute yellow rug and lotsa of CUSHIONS and puffs, besides a wonderful video projector so that we can get to watch movies and stuff being projected against a plain white wall and having the sound amplified by home-theater devices such as speaker boxes as great as the ones in real movie theaters. I've been having a blast with this new room. I hate and love my lifestyle. I've gotta do what I've gotta do and cannot complain about it. I, now, even have health insurance which has covered doctor's visits, X-rays, and physiotherapist sessions. I do not have to be worried about anything right now. Last Thursday, I applied for my new passport, the new blue version and next week I'm paying entirely for my trip to Europe. This is going to be a vivid dream coming true. Altough I came down with a strong cold yesterday, even though my right ankle has still scared me, apart from all this mess I can say that I have not been that bad. Life hasn't been much of a hassle these days. Yeah, depression is really well hidden at some mysterious place.

Black Power

I have already felt trapped, and  even powerless due to being with someone who wouldn't give me validation, hope. I lacked h...