Bad internet connection and Chinese dinner

This post started a few days ago, written on pieces of paper and pen, just because I haven't had internet access since Monday. In fact, the internet connection comes and goes. When it seems everything is going great... it simply fails. So, here I am writing on ruled notebook sheets. I'll be typing this tomorrow (two days later, actually) if the machines, routers, and cables decide to run well by its own will. We´ve got a few computers, fast broadband wireless connection, and tones of problems with all these things.

Electronic devices run well when they want to. I've been so overstressed about the ones we've had... but I don't care anymore. I won't worry about them. I'm happy for having this opportunity to be writing by hand. It's been a way long time I don't feel this experience. I really enjoy this sort of mental exercise. Writing with pen and paper feels certainly medieval. It is vintage. It is so nostalgic. Handwriting is simply the best thing for any writer. My ideas are gotten across much better this way. It's unexplicable.

Maybe it is a family thing. My father is a writer too. He does set the ball rolling from handwritten notes. He is a grammarian and has published many books on Portuguese and English language most common issues. I myself don't feel very comfortable when it comes to grammar but I don't feel embarassed when I don't get words or sentences right. I try the best I can; I simply keep on writing... I enjoy my blog the way it is: with mistakes and poor writings. I have apparently found the best template, in my opinion. Let's see for how long.

Btw, tonight I've got a dinner party at my Chinese teacher's house. Roberto and I are going to have some Asian food and long cultural talks. I hope we get to speak in English during the whole meal because their Portuguese is quite poor. They are Lucia and Olivio. They have two daughters and a small Chinese school in this town. I confess that I enjoy a lot being around them however I can't really fall in love with Chinese language. I guess it is because it does sound hard to my ears. I wish I could be more fluent by now. Chinese language is f*c&ing tough.

And... since the internet issues haven't gotten over yet, hubby is pushing me to get through with this post to start reinstalling the damn wireless internet devices all over again and again and again...

...5 hours later: the dinner party ended up being a huge success. The conversations were entirely in Portuguese and pretty much comprehensible. I played a lot with Madelaine. The vegetarian dishes were exquisite. I loved so much the cabbage lasagna which my teacher Lucia made that I had to get the recipe and I am definitely making it for the boys in the hood down here.

As I am blogging at this very moment, I am happy to announce that all the computers of this school/home have been hooked to the internet thing for about thirty minutes with no cut-offs. Hence, we are officially back to the virtual world... and with no downs in the connection... This has got to be cool, hasn't it?

blog.de avatar profile photo

oh my!

I wish I had such talent...

!@#$%^&*

a poem from funkcat.com

Funk is pain in a worldly sense of joy.
Feeling you've caught an emotion
certainly real,
deeply felt,
it becomes yours.
The music,
a teacher,
something a soul should avoid.

Afraid to write what you should?
You might find something
that changes your routine.

a bit of poetry

MY MOUTH WATERS
MY WIND BLOWS
MY SKY SCRAPES
WHAT MY MIND FLOWS

MY HAND WRITES
MY BODY WORKS
MY PEN COLORS
WHAT DRAWINGS COAX

MY HEAD SPINS
MY HIPS SHOW
MY LEGS REACH
WHAT MY FEET SEW

MY EYES SHINE
MY HEART SIGHS
MY FINGERS TRY
WHAT'S IN MY THIGHS

MY HAIR IS PULLED
MY LIPS SWIRL
MY TONGUE TRAVELS
AS MY ARMS THRILL
WHILE WE DRILL... DRILL...

Brazilian Passaport Makeover

Für die etwas dunkleren Stunden im Leben

Wo bist du?

Die Nacht hat den Tag langsam umgebracht

und alle Katzen grau gemacht.

Ich kühle am Fenster mein Gesicht,

wo bist du ? Warum kommst du nicht ?



Die Straße schickt lockend ein Lachen herauf,

ich will es nicht und werf`s wieder raus.

In meinen Tränen schwimmt Kerzenlicht,

wo bist du ? Warum kommst du nicht ?



Eine Fliege ertrinkt in meinem Wein,

es ist totenstill, ich hör sie Hilfe schrein.

Ich seh ihr zu und ich sehe mich,

wo bist du`? Warum kommst du nicht ?



Babe, Babe wenn du kommst

brennt in der Minibar noch Licht.

Da steht ein Bittermandel - Shake,

den überlebst du nicht, den überlebst du nicht.



Die Nacht hat den Tag langsam umgebracht,

und alle Weiber so wunderschön gemacht,

ich heule und ich hasse dich,

wo bist du ? Warum kommst du nicht ?

Night out with my dearests buddies: Roberto, Cynara, Lucas, and Felipe

Photos taken by Cynara with her cell phone

we'll see

Paxil Party

I want thoughtful words.
I want a both simple and outrageous post to publish here.
I want cold beer sliding down my throat since higher temperatures have showed up.
I want my voice back since air conditioners have damaged it.
I want stronger arms and thinner legs too.
I want vacation soon to fill up my Flickr with nice pictures.
I want to rest since my life has been based on non-stop work.
I want the smell of cinnamon, vanilla and a touch of cloves.
I want to buy tickets to Jamaica since Ryan Adams DVD has convinced me to.
I want to talk to strangers and complain about the weather there.
I want exotic food and hot kinds of pepper burning on my tongue and stomach.
I want the taste of bitter, sour, and salt in me.
I want buttermilk pancakes for breakfast Wendy's style.
I want greasy ribs too.
I want a parade, launch countdowns, and inner body explosions.
I want the best psychothriller end since Number 23 turned me off.
I want fireworks for no reasons.
I want empty trash cans.
I want long lasting light bulbs too.
I want perfect-fit socks, gourmet jelly beans, and pit free olives.
I want hairless legs, good hair days, and cavity free teeth.
I want the right answers, the right directions, and the right choices.
I want the truth as long as it doesn't hurt me.
I want good mood, good books, and good wine.
I want fine language and in-tune singing.
I want ever growing intelligence.
I want butter pecan ice cream and a chili dog with melted cheese on top.
I want a medieval sword hanging on my wall.
I want the most amazing stories since literature is the only cure for stupidities.
I want the colors of Miró as well since his art work definitely moves me forward.
I want a tougher soul and softer laughters too.
I want easy access in all surroundings.
I want hands, fingers, and mixed salivas.
I want to simmer and I want to boil.
I want to hug the milky way.
I want to sleep tight.
I want to float in my awareness.
I want to never fight.
And in case I have to...
I want enemies who can never beat me.
I want nothing more than a Paxil kinda life.

Paying late homage to these women: MARCH 8th

Long live all the women on this planet!

Vanessa says "good-bye" to PBF school!

For the farewell night, we went to a hot dog place...

It was so much FUN that I forgot to have hot dogs. I hate Brazilian buns anyway.

Vanessa will be missed...

Nessa had to be replaced by Cynara...

...and by Carol.

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These are my student Debbie and I striking a pose
after working on letters which were all sent to
several environmental organizations in the USA.
Your teacher loves you, Debbie ^^

Self-reminder

SHORT AND LONG TERM EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL ON THE BODY

Eyes:
� causes impaired visual acuity, distorted vision and ability to adjust to light (Radford University, 1996).

Throat:
� irritates and damages esophagus
� induces vomiting, bleeding, pain, difficulty swallowing
� may eventually cause cancer (Memorial University of Newfoundland, 2001).

Heart:
� weakens the heart, which results in an inability to pump blood properly
� increases blood pressure, leading to an increased risk of heart attack and strokes (Alberta Alcohol and Drug Abuse Commission, 2000).

Lungs:
� high amounts may cause breathing to stop, then death (CADAPP, 2001).

Stomach:
� causes irritation of stomach lining, peptic ulcers, inflammation, bleeding lesions and cancer (Algra,1992).

Intestines:
� irritates lining, resulting in nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and sweating.
� inhibits the small intestine's ability to process nutrients and vitamins (Memorial University of Newfoundland, 2001)

Liver:
� causes fat accumulation around liver
� leads to its inflammation and destruction of cells (hepatitis)
� results in irreversible lesions and scarring, along with irreversible destruction of cells (cirrhosis) (Alberta Alcohol and Drug Abuse Commission, 2000).

Reproductive:
� decreases testosterone
� increases sexual desire, but decreases sexual performance
� long term use results in decreased function and size of the male genitalia (Intoximeters Inc., 2001).

Source: http://www.upei.ca/~stuserv/alcohol/effectsonbody.htm

Do I still know how to post on blogs?

I don't remember the last time I tried to write, for real, on this blog. You may wonder, "Doesn't she know that on top of each post there is the posting date?" Well, I know the day of my last public post. Anyone who blogs have got to know that, I guess. What I am saying is that I don't recall the last time I tried to write for real on this blog.

I mean, writing right, creatively, and powerfully. Have I ever written that way? Not sure. One thing I know for sure: I always start posts by dwelling on the writing process and I never enclose these kinds of thoughts. My plan is to talk/type about my last vacation and give an update on my latest discoveries on myself.

Vacation was okay. It was too short as usual. I am not gonna complain about it, actually. I got my tattoo before leaving for Sao Paulo. I was afraid I was not gonna get that done. However, it's there: colorful, charming, and neatly drawn on my left arm. And what about Sao Paulo? My home place was fine as usual. I didn't get to see my parents, though. I had some fun with Jennifer, my middle sister, and with a great friend of my mine called Jeronimo. There is this YouTube video of us having fun at bar at about 3:00 o'clock in the morning. I overdrank, overate, overslept, and over-enjoyed on my past vacation. Can't wait to have it again.

I have been back on business for the last two months already. More and more new students are getting to enroll in my school and that is scaring me a great deal. I am glad I am not going to teach all those guys. That also scares the hell out of me. I cannot allow things get screwed up. God, help us there, please.

Soon I'll be writing here about my trip to Europe. I am so going to study in Ireland by December this year. I won't give out much info for now since I am not really aware of all details of it. What I know is that I will be there.


The latest things I've figured about myself:

-I've found out I am an insufferable braggart when it comes to my school matters.
-I am NOT a blunt person.
-I criticize people.
-I am a little sarcastic.
-I ask a lot of questions in a conversation, to find out about people, their thoughts, etc.
-I rarely admit I am wrong about something when I am in a conversation.
-I make eye-contact and use body language in conversations.
-I generalize.
-I get personal with people in conversations; I may even gossip about a mutual friend.
-I compliment people spontaneously.
-I like to talk about myself. I am not a good listener. In short, I pretty much suck.
-I usually talk about personal problems, people, their way of being, hopes, desires, my family...
-I get personal when I write a letter to someone, but not face to face in a conversation.
-I help to keep a conversation flowing, however I am many times provocative, controversial, confrontational... That is my style.
-I like to get my say, get in a few comments, no matter what the topic
-I don't assert something, but I might preface a comment with "I think, I suppose, perhaps and even copy and paste other people's comments without their authorization"
-I talk a lot... No. I talk way too much.
-If I ask a question, it is generally a yes-no answer I am looking for
-I don't mind talking about a situation where I was embarrassed,humiliated and so on.
-I am never clear and that pisses my husband off
-I am gonna die some day.

Also check the links below...
http://thepawnbroker.blogspot.com/2005/07/15-random-thoughts-and-queries.html
http://thepawnbroker.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-just-wanna-know-why.html
http://thepawnbroker.blogspot.com/2007/03/random-thoughts-part-ii.html

Londrina.

I...

miss londrina

miss this man called fernando

miss college times

miss good music

miss good friends

once again, miss londrina

miss them all

I've got to stop lying to myself

"Tou beudo, mas tou centrado"
The sentence above was said by an acquaintance while drunk. It is in Portuguese, in broken language by the way. This fellow was found in a drunk state and said that to a friend of mine. The sentence means that he knew he was wasted yet he was able to be centered. Liar, liar. I have drunk since I was 16. I don't drink as much as I used to but I still practice it a lot and for this very reason I know that that quote is a lie. There is no way to be drunk and centered. I have got to cut down on alcoholic beverage intakes. I have got to lose weight. I've got to stop lying to myself.

I was reading this blog that said: "How stupid it is to post pictures of a pet cat. I don't give a damn about your cat, okay?" Hah! That was tough but true. Nobody cares about other people's pets especially when we are talking about strangers' blog photos of these bloggers' pets. I hope I made myself clear. The thing is all of us who blog care about no one but ourselves. That is what makes us bloggers. We enjoy writing about our own matters, about our loved ones, about our manias, obsessions, addictions of course, and about our pets. I have posted many things about my cat. Tibby is my only pet and she's pretty important in my life, read "my blog." Speaking back on that blog: I also read a comment saying that it is boring to see posts of food as well. The commenter wrote that noboby wants to see how nice the blogger's food plate was assembled. Oh well. Oh well. Oh Gee. I have already irritated people by posting photos of my dear pet cat but I have never bugged anyone with food photos?!?! Hah! There we go:

i am gonna last long enough to cover up my body with tons of tattoos

You Will Die at Age 79

You're pretty average when it comes to how you live... And how you'll die as well.

What Age Will You Die?

...me at a Brazilian Independence Day Parade in 1981

I delay but I carry out all my promises (I was only five at that time!)
PS: Check out this Lori's post. She's a way awesome blogger friend. What's left to say?

It is an old post, however so updated

Yeah, yeah, yeah... I live in Brazil. Yeah, yeah, yeah... It is carnival season again in this nation. When I first wrote about this subject was 2005 (link). We are in 2008 and nothing has changed about this crappy festival filled with crappy songs, crappy drunks, and tacky outfits, and stupid body moves that can be seen on the streets and on TV. Yew! Here's that old post being reposted:

"I never understood why there are jerks who travel all the way to Brazil to enjoy our CARNIVAL!!!

Carnival is a typical Brazilian thing when people are led to the streets to see out there parades, get wasted, and listen to live loud music performances. Everyone is supposed to dress up in costumes, put on masks if they will. They may wear wigs and even become androgenous figures if that suits them since the spirit of the party is to get out of control.

As I am not fond of these kinds of parties, when it gets to carnival season, I normally stay home having my hot herbal tea, sitting on my leather couch, glancing at the parades on TV filled with those naked tramps shaking their asses and showing their boobies hanging (I know someone who would strongly enjoy this.)

The fact that I don't like carnival and being a Brazilian citizen make me look weird among the folks down here. I don't really care about this in part because I am pretty much confident and also because I have got my personal reasons to dislike this so-called cultural event.

I remembered when I was first sent to a carnival ball (let me call that mess this way). My mom took me to this crowded place filled with so many idiots of all ages and races. Some of them seemed to be drunk, others seemed to suffer from epilepsy on their hips, and others looked like having cat allergy for rubbing their nose frenetically. To me, they were a bunch of imbecils dressed in funny clothes, dancing in circles as they were mice in a maze. That's how I saw them, taking into consideration that I was only 4 at that time.

My mom also got me a strange outfit which had a little kid's umbrella as an accessory. Besides looking just like the other idiots of that place, I had to carry that umbrella around wherever I went. That was a huge pain because I had trouble holding both the accessory and a cup of soda, and let me not forget, I was also carrying a munch that was bought from those suspicious club cafeterias. Mom had the wittiest idea, "hang your umbrella, sweety, onto this chair." Fine! The place was very stuffy, so the cold soda gave me a relief.

The music sounded insane. Those carnival marchs played by a poor-sounding orchestra started getting on my nerves. I was only 4, I insist, but I was old enough to distinguish between good musicians and crap asshole losers trying to make their living out of something it wasn't made for them. I was too young, too short, too embarassed to get in the mood for a hectic non-sense party: "what are these people so happy about?", I would ask myself that question many times.

I hadn't noticed that everything was going smoothly so far, until the moment my mom decided to push me to the crowd. She would say "Join them. Dance, honey. We are here to party, not to keep staring at them..." Gee, they were just like starving lions and I felt like a pound of fresh sirloin steak. I figured out:"nay-nay."I prayed so she wouldn't try again but then, a friend of mom grabbed me in the arm and dragged me to the crowd.

At the exact moment she did that, my hair got stuck in the wires of my little umbrella which was leaning against that empty chair mom had asked me to hang that stuff on, and not less ironically, the handle of the umbrella that had a hook-like shape embraced another chair. So picture that folks: a stupid middle-aged female human being had been pulling an innocent tot with non-well combed straight long hair stuck on a kid's umbrella hooked on those cheap plastic chairs for ten minutes going in circles in a crowd of hungry lions listening to horsecrap carnival music... yewf!

After that year, there were a few more intents to participate in such event, with some successful ventures I may say, but those were the years that I was reaching the youth times in my life. I had other purposes but being amused by freakos shaking their booties...

Curiosity fact - For those who may care, my scalp wound did not require any reconstruction surgery!"