...

Time
by Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Who had this brilliant idea
of cutting the time in slices
Slices which were named YEARS
He was a genius individual who
got to industrialize hope
by making it work to the limit
of the exhaustion.

12 months are enough to make any human being
get tired and have a breakdown.

Then, it comes the miracle of renovation
Everything starts all over again, with another number
and another wish to believe
that from now on it is going to be different.

Happy New Toe!

I know I said that I'd only return here next year. However, something has happened to me that I needed to register in a post. Those things don't happen every day, so I couldn't miss the chance to type about it... I know it is not really important, but it has been painful.

I remember that around this time last year, I wrote a list of my New Year's Resolutions. I have kept all the same resolutions for this year again, since they are timeless sensed, they will be all true for 2006. I'm on vacation still and don't want and don't feel like posting anything different for now... but hey? I'm typing something here... Too late! I'll say it... It's about my foot... more precisely, my right big toe!!!

Funny that I also needed to talk about PAIN, but my pain has been a lot more physical. I got my right foot toe sprained or twisted, don't know how to describe exactly! Just imagine a foot that was folded in half. That happened while I was trying to rescue Tibby from an imminent death. She could have been slaughtered by the neighbor's dogs. "...what a nice way to start 2006..." i know it! I had to climb up a tall wall that is when the accident happened - bad landing... ouch!

I'm a mix of weird and irresponsible person for this I didn't rush to the hospital... No I didn't do any bandages or rub any medicine on it. I just let it hurt... I did check on the web some sort of tests to find out whether my toe is just sprained or actully broken... so here it is:

How to Know if Your Toe Is Broken:

Trying to determine whether your toe is broken or just badly bruised is sometimes difficult. When in doubt, see your doctor. (how come there are steps to find that out, if only doctors can help? Aie aie aie)

Steps:

1. Remove your shoe and sock, and feel for any deformity. Gently run your fingers up and down your toe. If your toe feels crooked or lumpy, it's more likely that it's broken than sprained. (My big toes have been crooked since I was born. And now what?)

2. Wiggle your toe. Severe pain suggests the toe is broken. (Wiggle? What the heck is "WIGGLE"?)

3. Listen to your toe while wiggling it. If you hear a grating or popping noise, a piece of broken toe bone may be rubbing against another piece of toe bone. (I've pictured that description, oooouuuch, it hurts more now!!!)

4. Check for swelling. If your toe is puffed up double its size and the skin is stretched, you may have broken your toe. (Gee! If my toe swelled double its size, I think I'd noticed it. It doesn't look that bad, but it does hurt like hell...)

5. Compare your injured toe to the same toe on the other foot. If the injured toe looks shorter or deformed, it may be broken. (Ok, now then I see. It's broken, or it could, may, might be possibly broken... I still don't wanna see a doctooooor!)

6. Check your temperature. Within 2 to 3 hours after a bone breaks, the body's natural defense mechanisms kick in to raise your temperature. A fever above 99.6 degrees F suggests the toe is broken. (I felt it warmer two days ago... no, I won't accept it!)

7. The only sure way to know if your toe is broken is to have it X-rayed. (Oh great! So all the PAIN that I had to go through by taking each step of this test was just a huge waste of time???)

Apparently my right toe has passed all the tests! It's getting fine... I'll be OK!!! Hubby placed some ice on it... That helped! Tibby has thanked me for having saved her life... That also has helped! My brother-in-law sent me some soothing photographs of the most amazing places of this planet... They are helping forget the pain! Later, I'll ask him if I am allowed to post them here. My mom too has done her part. She's sent me a living room set for Christmas as a total surprise. Now, I have more reasons to prostrate my fat body on a comfortable sofa and do absolutely nothing.

Vacation Self-Portrait Tuesday!!!

Be back next year!!! Gone resting!!! ;-D

ME M e mmee...

I received through e-mail, for the second time, a personal questionnaire from Marcele. "Marcele, I just now realized that I wrote your name incorrectly in that post I'd dedicated to you." The idea is to reply the email by listing our own personal answers. Some of my responses may shock you, Marcele. But y'know, it's been a long time we don't meet so many things have changed in me. You'll get over this. We always get used to new things... hihihi

1. What is your full name? Laila Christina de Bragança Cavallera Onasis von Murdoc.

2. What color pants are you wearing? Light brown, it's made of jeans and stretch. I love the pockets of these pants.

3. What are you listening to right now? German Beer drinking songs - Ja, ja, ja das ist wahr!!!It's a CD that a student of mine bought at an Oktober Fest!

4. What was the last thing you ate? A chocolate barr.

5. Do you wish on stars? Nah!

6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Red. Love red. It's not my faaaaaavorite color, but it coats well.

7. How is the weather right now? Damp, a little cold, and foggy - not a typical day at this time of the year.

8. Last person you spoke to on the phone? To the mother of a student.

9. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Marcele has sent me this me-me-me list of questions. I've posted here, just scroll down this page, a text that simply says it all about this lady. What else can I say? I simply love her!

10. Favorite drink? "Red" wine.

11. Favorite sport to play? Sumo Wrestling. I nail it.

12. Hair color? Dark Brown.

13. Weight and height? 1m 63cm, 60 kilograms.

14. Siblings? Jennifer, 25 and Fernanda, 22.

15. Favorite month? January - it's my birthday month and the birthday month of many people I love and care.

16. Favorite food? SALMON - raw, grilled, broilled, fried, roasted... SIMPLY SO GOOOOOD

17. What was the last movie you saw? Donnie Darko - for the fifth time!

18. Favorite day of the year? October 31st - Halloween!

19. What do you do to vent anger? I cry/ I write/ I draw/ I cook/I study/ I email friends/I clean/I mess/I blog/

20. What was your favorite toy as a child? An old red Remington Typewriter.

21. Summer or winter? WINTER

22. Hugs or kisses? Both.

24. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? Wth? I'm posting my answers in my blog... HIHIHIHI

25. Who is most likely to respond? No one, since I am not sending the answers to anyone. I've done it before - about a year ago in fact.

26. Who is least likely to respond? I have no clue (I'll keep Marcele's answer).

27. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday. I cried but right then I was kissed and comforted.

29. Who is the friend you have had the longest? Lu, or Luciana. I´ve known her since we didn't know what alcohol was.

30. What did you do last night? I watched a movie, had beer, and pizza.

31. What are you afraid of? Raising a monster as my kid.

32. Describe yourself in one word? FREAKINESS.

33. Favorite car? I ain't a good driver. Hate drivers in general. I don't pretty much care about cars.

34. What´s the thing you like doing the most in your life? Writing, teaching, cursing, studying, learning, scratching my ear canals with cotton swabs, reading, listening to others, eating, drinking, melting stuff, having the jitters from a creepy good psycho-thriller movie, and talking to the ones I care.

35. Favorite flower? I hate the sun, but I love Sunflowers.

36. Who do you admire? So many folks: J. M. GONÇALVES; FERNANDO PESSOA; GARCIA LORCA; LUIZA VALENZUELA; MAIAKOVYSKI; TOLSTOY; UMBERTO ECO; FRIDA KAHLO; FAULKNER; EDGAR A. POE; CHARLES SPENCER CHAPLIN; CLARICE LISPECTOR; ALLIGHIERI; FREUD; EDNA PURVIANCE; MARIO PRATA; HILLARY SWANK, ISAAC EPSTEIN; DAVID BOWIE; ALAIN TOURAINE; KUBRICK; NIETZCHE; JUDY DENCH; POLANSKI; BOB BURNQUIST; HEMINGWAY; BEAUVOIR; SHAKESPEARE; JOHN CLEESE; CHARLES SANDERS PIERCE; BARTHES; SAUSSURE; CARLOS DRUMMOND; SUSAN SONTAG; MARLON BRANDON; SAMUEL BECKETT; OSCAR WILDE; FRITZ LANG; NOAM CHOMSKY; GOYA; MUNCH; MIRO; BURROUGHS; BORTOLOTTO; MAGRITTE; KANDINSKY; NERUDA; POLLACK; DALI; CHICO SCIENCE & NAÇÃO ZUMBI... and some others that I could not remember to name here.

37. Type of job? ESL teacher, writer, and translator.

38. Favorite day of the week? Mondays.

39. What did you do for your last birthday? I went to a nice restaurant with Roberto (my hubby).

40. How many states have you lived in? 1 in the US and 3 in Brazil.

41. How many cities have you lived in? 1 in the US and 4 in Brazil.

42. What do you collect? Pens. I have thousand of those: scented, glittered, colored, classical, kids-like, ballpointed... all kinds.

43. Favorite kind of music? Polka, Nordic Folk music, and Celtic.

44. If you could be someone else rather than yourself, who would you be? I'd be a male version of me... I'd be called Lailo and I wouldn't have pms... GREAT!

45. How many languages do you speak? Portuguese, English & Spanish. I've studied German for 5 years now and I also took two semesters of French back in college, but with not much headway.

46. What was your coolest trip ever? To New York City.

46. Most beautiful city: São Paulo, all the way.

47. Sexual symbol: Benício Del Toro.

48. Where will you spend your next vacations? Vacations... What is that? Can anyone gimme the definition of this word???

49. What are the places you´d like to visit one day? Marroco (Marrakesh), Mexico (Montrrey), the Amazon (Manaus), and Thailand (the entire country).

50. Describe the person who sent you this: Marcele is an angel to me. She's a totally free-spirit. She's a one-of-a-kind young lady. Marcele's smart, sweet, friendly, a complete human being! I simply love her and the fact that she's my greatest friend of all times!

awh... those buttered slugs...

I've always said that humans are pathetic material. There is nothing more pathetic than an individual with diarrhea. All started two weeks ago. I still don't know what caused this 'malade'. I've probably gotten food poisoning - "I should've simmered those slugs longer", or maybe I've drunk something that made me sick -"There should be caution signs on bathroom walls saying that toilet water isn't drinkable - damn!"

I just know that I've been like that for the last two weeks. I can't eat anything because my body cannot hold anything. I feel like melting from inside... (10 minutes pause to rush to the ladies' room...) I'm back! Wow! That was stinky!!! Where was I??? Oh, yeah - diarrhea!

...And the most pathetic is the irregular schedule that this condition put us through. It's truly insane. I need to leave classrooms in the middle of lectures to take that watery crap... yew... But i am the one who's lecturing for God' s sake! That just turns the situation a lot more embarrassing. I'm just lucky enough not to have my family around for Christmas. I bet I'd have my bowels working while on the streets buying X-mas gifts. I also have my sleep disturbed three or four times during the night so that I don't soak my bed sheets with that caramel fudge... Uhmmm! I am feeling like having a sundae now. Damn again! I'm not supposed to have any sweet stuff because it can worsen my condition. How pathetic!

I've already...

Looking stupid or goofy in front of others is something so easy to me. I am a teacher so that explains why I get involved in embarassing situations quite often since we, teachers, are always needed to speak in public, be around the crowd, and try to get attention from so different folks. This way I can say that I am the queen of bloopers. Even way before I turned a teacher, I' ve always found myself in silly situations like tripping on the streets downtown, bumping into tables or chairs, getting physically sick and having to vomit in front of classmates... Gee, the list is endless...

• I've already sneezed while singing in a choir our national athem in a elementary school when i was seven. The worst had not been breaking the song in the middle of an important passage. The problem was having splashed a liter of this green and sticky catarrh straight to a girl's curly hair who was standing right in front of me; I could not hold my nostrils since we had our hands busy holding the songs lyrics;
• I've tripped and fallen countless times. The worst was falling and sliding my ass down the stairs of a church altar on the day of my first comunion. This time was not my fault since they'd required us to wear those stupid long garments that made us look like the pope. And I have also invented a new hobby - falling off from revolving chairs - it is necessary to get some fast spins a little before your body gets to collapse from that piece of furniture. I highly recommend this new passtime because it can really amuse people around you.
• I've already recited poems and sung in public... Ah, I may've forgotten to say that ducks and pelicans reach better tunes than I am able to. I've sung drunk in karaokes. I've sung non-drunk in small stages of conservatories and city theaters. I normally sing while driving - like to check out the faces of other drivers when they see me chanting -. I sing all the time while pissing in public washrooms, cooking, correcting tests, and lecturing all the time. I've already gone up a stage of a british pub in the USA with an elderly originally from Liverpool and we sang "TICKET TO RIDE". His wife even got to film and picture that rare scene of a boozed old british gentleman singing Beatles with a drunk Brazilian chick lost in Uncle Sam's land. It was exquisite, I must say.
• I've let a whole lasagna get burnt - I had simply forgotten it. The worst was to know that that lasagna was for an important dinner that my parents were going to serve at our place. I was not so young when that happened. Shameful. By the way, forgetting things is my best talent : I always pay for my grocery shopping but sometimes I forget to bring them home; I've already planned to barbecue and forgotten to get the beef. I've already gone to Blockbuster to return films without the DVDs, or to the bank to make a deposit without the money... it nevers ends...

PIZZA FRIDAY BLAST

Check out this photolog! It is Felipe's - my sweetest pupil. Blog readers, you will get to see a snapshot taken by me of a great ESL group of students from my school. I snapped that photo in the lounge two weeks ago. Pitty that many folks could not show up. "PIZZA FRIDAY" - that was the name of this cool day. We ended up having 12 different flavors of those. I even had pizzas leftover for the rest of that weekend. I'll post the pizza shots next time. What is the coolest thing is the card they're all holding. That is an ID-card from our school granted to them exclusively on that day which gave them a password to access our brand-new on-line English pronunciation laboratory. We were so having fun that day!!!

Paying homage to this beautiful lady:

This one is to you... ... ....

Marcele , you are a cute girl... "cute" is too shallow, you deserve greater and better word. You are simply gorgeous. Yeah, blog readers, she's gorgeous. She's astonishing in her outter and inner beauties. I love this young lady. I may be sounding like Sassy who wrote a post about her great friend Liza (or LiSa... dunno???) some weeks ago. I don't care if I seem to be imitating someone else's blog. In fact, Marcele has done it too. In her last post, she decided to write a few nice things about some weird folks - I was included in the list. Sure! Thanks, girl!!!!!!!!!!!

Marcele Aires Franceschini has been a great friend of mine for a long while. Our friendship grew during college years. Pitty that we live so far from one another. Although, the distance has never messed up with our connection. She's got this shiny aura, don't know exactly how to call, that sort of energy that glows on her from miles. She's a free-spirit pal who has the most powerful talent to develop and understand literature to its deepest surfaces. Her imaginative mind has inspired me a whole lot. I just can't believe she called me a "philosopher"... That was wildly great!!!

Like you did to me on your own blog, I also copied and pasted here a picture of you from ORKUT ...And not only that... I'll publish here my very first passage of a post in our mother language. That was my response to a topic in your community about the movie "Last Tango in Paris". The topic we were discussing was about those invisible "bridges" that connect souls, people's lives... You know, those crazy thoughts about syncronized experiences and encounters of fate. This bridge that has connected us is made of concrete and poetry!

Sometimes our lives' bridges get to cross!...

"...Sei que está falando de amor; mas terá que admitir que amizades são essenciais para uma vida equilibrada. Lembra Mar, que te conheci pela primeira vez, de verdade mesmo, lá no vestiba da UNESP no final de 1992 em Presidente Prudente???? Te conheci pela Patrícia, com quem tinha feito cursinho em Londrina naquele ano! E ela... a Patrícia, acabou morando comigo em 1993 em São Paulo, para fazermos o cursinho do colégio ETAPA no bairro São Joaquim da capital paulista. Lembro-me tão bem de ti naquele dia de prova... Também, com essa sua luz que irradia até em sala escura de revelação de filme fotográfico!?!?!?! Você estava com uma saia enorme, estilo indiana, e usava óculos redondos com lentes azuis quase metálicas. Quem diria que em 1994 nossas pontes se cruzariam nas salas de aula da Universidade Estdadual de Londrina????? Quase tive um ataque porque te reconheci, mas não tinha certeza... Mas... Sim... Era você!!!!!!!! Sabe que sua amizade preencheu em cheio o vazio que a Pat deixou comigo! Depois que saí de Sampa, nunca mais nos falamos. Exceto pela troca de algumas humildes cartas no começo daquele ano fatídico para mim: 1994... HEHEHE!!!!! SMILE BABE!!!!! I am already having a blast with these words... Te adoro pra caralho!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "

Curiosity Fact: I can't agree more that I am f***ing weird. You are so RIGHT!!!!

Brill, Zest, and Fab

ADVERSARY

My rouser’s edge

Focusing on you

Dealing with you

Dealing with the adversity you bring

To me…

my loved ones,

my people,

my world…

Adversary

Source of all adversity

You are not my enemy

Without you

I could not relent

Without you

I could not grasp

My rouser’s edge

• By 'D.

...by my Pessoa

Fragile Little Sister

by Laila Chris

Little sister was never listened to. So she ran away. Went to a place where she thought good listeners would be there. Later on, finding out she was mistaken, little sister took a plane. Settled down in a distant land where no one would listen to her again, after all the local community did not even understand her mother tongue. Fragile little sister then decided to try once again, for the second time, to move away; so she packed, tied her hair all up, took a deep breath and jumped off of an airplane. The parachute luckily worked. Little sister landed on a deserted soil. This time she knew no one would listen to her because there there was not a trace of human existence. There, there were only her lungs. She yelled. Screamed to the top of her voice - no echoes whatsoever. She was again not being listened to... not even by herself... She then realized that running away in order to be listened to was not right. That was cowardness. Waste of time. She prayed to die. That was her only way-out, but nothing happened. In the end, little sister noticed that she wasn't being listened to because the others were in fact deaf. They would never listen to her even if they wanted to. God had made them deaf. God did NOT want her killed, so little sister cursed God. Since He could listen to her... since He was the only one who could listen to her... He made her deaf too!

...WORDING

Critics and Art
by Laila Chris

Creating is art
The art of creating shapes, shades, showcases
First language
Primal process

Critics interpretations
Second thought
Redundancy of over explanations

New information
Against exaggerations
Repetitive diagnosis
Higher amount of grotesque translations

Hate critics
When they don’t expand
When they don’t turn comprehensible
The things that are not that way

Creating a new process
The process of art making
Words on frames
Notes in chapters
Chords in conclusions

Reading response
Critics should evaluate
Criticism isn’t appraisal
No judgments of value
But measurements of merits

Critics are investigators
(A different sense of music,
painting,
or literature)
A critical study implies historical context
Social description, again not appraisal
(A different sense of music,
painting,
or literature)
Radically distant from judging wine, cigars, food, or Playboy magazines

A proposition
The embryo of philosophy of art
A theory, not a mere quarrel

Art as a human activity
Art as an essential practice:
Musical compositions,
Sculptures,
Poems,

Photographs,
Cathedrals,
Films,
Dramas,
Paintings…
Spontaneous expressions of emotional disturbances,
Craving beautiful things,
Fears, phobias, desiring mates,
A special form to contemplate nature

Critics’ role is indeed
Overcome those experiments,
Executions, (de)codifications, and meanings

Art consumers may address that
A third consumption
Aesthetics appreciation

Let us blog until our fingertips bleed...

According to a survey on a site of business technology, PERSEUS, there are about 5 billion blogs subscribed now. In 2005, 45 million have been started so far. 10 million blogs were created just during the first 4 months of this year. Following some math logics, by the end of 2005, the web will have stored 50 million new blogs. This non-stop growth in blogging is given to the easy process of acquiring one: fast steps, some clicks away, already-made templates, then "bam" - 'your blog has been published.'

Undoubtly, that is a huge number! There are many...no no no, too many blogs floating in the world wide web. Can all these spots really exist? How many bloggers would be posting right now simultaneously with me? What about readers? Do we have enough readers to compensate all the efforts for being here in front of a computer screen managing topics, tagging, uploading pictures, and doing whatever takes to have a post in the end? Who are these bloggers anyway?

The site survey states that most bloggers are female young students (51% - young male + female). They make use of this tool to post as many things as they wish, which are normally their daily school activities or any other personal fact. The posts will be read by their peers, fellow students, or family members; those are readers that the site calls "nanoaudiences." These young folks do not blog for a professional, religious, or any concrete purposes. A typical teen blogger will post twice a month about happenings in their lives by using a mix of lowercase and caps lock letters, overusing typos and abbreviations, and misspelling the words deliberately so they will appear the way they sound.

Right below them, there I am. ...Or better typing, there WE ARE (44% - male+female) -- since most of my readers fit in this group-- Blogging is a social phenomenon among young adults. Most adult bloggers are individuals under the age of 30. Women are majority here again. The reason female folks create more blogs is countless, but one thing is certain: male bloggers are more likely than female ones to abandon blogs. This is maybe because these spots are so easy to be created and free from charge mostly that there is a lack of commitment in keeping them updated. Only in my list of links located on the left of your screen, there are probably 8 or 9 dormant spots - three of them are mine.

Those 5 billion blogs do exist, however there are not as many bloggers posting as there are those spots. That means, many blogs are started but later on they are abandoned. Since there are so many non-active blogs, out of 5 billion subscriptions, 20 million only are actually in use - information based on that site I previously mentioned in this entry. So, there is a slight chance that 10 million people might be posting now. And yet, one million give up blogging a day, among these folks are Sassy, Kris, Bulb, Roberto, Lu, me... Let's get back on posting guys!!!

Let us blog more and more until our fingertips bleed...

...by Fernando Pessoa

I am the escaped one

I am the escaped one,
After I was born
They locked me up inside me
But I left.
My soul seeks me,
Through hills and valley,
I hope my soul
Never finds me.

Verão, tu cala a boca, ou te cago a pau!!!

About six months ago, I published here a post about Brazilian winter. We did have pretty harsh cold days for some time this year which made me think "this can't be Brazil!". It was awesome.

Being a continental country, it's no wonder to find chilly regions where one should drag down portable heaters or have it installed in each room of the house in order to survive through the season. I even mentioned about this to Bulb in one of our last chats and he got surprised. On his mind, according to his words, there was that stereotypical brazilian picture of a tropical land where girls would walk along with thongs and the sun would shine and heat up paradisiac beaches... something like we'd have summer throughout the year.

I must agree that summer lasts for 6 months in some parts of the nation, instead of 4 which is taught in geography classes. ...but what happens during the 6 remaining months? I can call it a 'slight summer'. The northernmost parts of Brazil do have warm temperatures throughout the year. For those who care for this kind of weather, that would be the best place to be. Not for me. Therefore I've chosen to live not too far from PATAGONIA.(he!he!he!)

To my opinion, the heat of the sun isn't much appealing. Not everyone I know around here will agree to me. It does not matter what the common sense says; I just don't see the beauty of the summer if I don't actually live by the beach. Even if I lived at the seashore, I have always worked so I would not have time to enjoy the water. I am saying this for a fact because I did live in a Floridian beach town for five years (98-2002) and I enjoyed the ocean maybe three times.

OK! So I don't have fun with beaches because I don't really like them. Summer does not suit me because sweating all over is not connected to pleasure according to my senses. High temperatures are not my cup of tea. I despise air conditioners and I am not a big fan of "f a n s". Regardless, "summer-like" weather has arrived. Although my distress towards this season, I confess that last weekend I did relax in the sun. I put on bikinis, stretched my fanny on the floor, rubbed my skin with suntan lotion... oops, I had forgotten to wear sunglasses. Oh well, I did want to look like a raccoon afterwards.

Was I on the beach? Not really. All that happened in the terrace, right here on the back of my house. Wouldn't it be more relaxing if I could be at the beach? NO. The sand, the crowd, the crawling creatures, the lack of bathrooms, the flying insects, you name it... Nah!!!! Did I end up having fun? Probably so, but that doesn't happen all the time. Like I said, I work so I can't lie in the sun every day, and when weekend comes, it normally rains.

I tried to convince me that maybe, possibly, perhaps there would be at least one thing that I may enjoy about hot weather. I failed. I miss the cold days already. It'll take six more months for them to reappear. Ah! ...and one more thing, I concluded that it does not make much of a sense for Brazilian Santa Claus to wear that heavy red coat or climb up chimneys, doesn't it? This is definitely a reverse place.

Keypads

I hate telephone. Hate cellphones even worse. I hate anything that has keypad such as remote controls, cordless phone speakers, and cellphones. I lose them all the time. I can't even tell the difference among the VCR, television, DVD player, and the stereo remotes. It is so useless to have something that was invented to make our lives easier but in fact they make me mad. They burn in my hands and help me lose hair. They never work for me. I sure suffer from technology dislexia because I can never point them to the right direction. I still change channels by using the best device - my finger tips. I can never make a call with my cellphone. I always dial the wrong keys. I never listen to it when it rings. When I listen to it, I get the calls too late. If there are messages, I don't know how to check them. If I check, I don't know how to erase them. So I don't get rid of them. I keep'em as long as they wanna be there in that little machine which was created to give me headaches. Then you wonder, "Why did she get one in first place?" In fact, I've never bought them. "THEM?" Yeah. I own two cellphones. I still have the first one my mom gave me in 2002 which I used once or twice. Hope she does not read this because she paid an arm and a leg for that so sophisticated model. I gave up carrying that one because of its complexity to turn it on!!! Enough, I said. Then Roberto gave me another one three months ago. This is definitely easier to manage, yet it is too much for "my fragile little mind." Thank God, I do not get to take pictures or send e-mails with it, because that would be the worst code I'd have to break. Don't get me started with the garage door and the car remote controls. This computer keyboard that I am using right now is more simple then the number of times I have to press the keys of the car control so that I can have the anti-theft alarm activated and the windows shut. Again, I know I suffer from some sort of disorder and that my condition gets worse with time... What is left to solve this problem? I got a special box so that I can keep in it all the remotes together. Now, I don't lose them so often. And cellphone? I am trying to be patient with myself and read the manual carefully for the third time. This time, I'll have to nail that machine. No, no, no, I still can't get some calls through... I'm gonna call the company and find out what the problem is... It can't be me again!!!

Paulo Leminski Words - The best Brazilian poet of all times!!!

INVERNACULAR

by Paulo Leminski

This language isn't mine.
It's plain as day.
When meaning goes away,
the word stays behind.
Maybe I'm just lying.
Or am I lying truth?
So I say myself - just,
Maybe - I can barely say.
This isn't my tongue.
The language I speak mutes
a distant song,
the voice, beyond, not a word.
The dialect you utilize
on the left bank of the phrase,
that's what does it, lusifies
me, half, maybe, inside.

°°°

Came the hard way down
the neverending line,
line striking stone,
word kickin round the corner,
tiny empty line,
a line a life, entire,
word, word of mine.

°°°

nothing the sun
can’t speak
all the moon
more chic
no rain fades
this flower

°°°

one of these days i wanna be
a great english poet
of the last century
saying
o sky o sea o folk o destiny
fight in india, 1866,
disappear in a clandestine shipwreck

°°°

put me out
thin me down
chop me up
until
after me
after us
after everything
nothing’s left
but the charm

°°°

between external duty
and eternal doubt
my commercial
heart goes
roundabout

°°°

pauloleminski’s
a crazy mutt
we really should kill him
with sticks and rocks
at the stake with one shot
or else he’s likely
the little prick
to piss all over
our picnic

°°°

a poem
not gotten
is worthy of note
supreme
dignity
of a drifting boat

°°°

back then
we were gonna be homer
the work an iliad no less
but then
it got a little harder
we’d settle for a Rimbaud
an Ungaretti a Fernando any old Pessoa
a Lorca an Eluard a Ginsberg
and then
the provincial poeticule
we always were
behind so many masks
time treated as flowers

°°°

as if i were julio plaza
pleasure
of pure perception
senses
be critique
of reason

°°°

two village idiots
one spends his days
kicking lampposts to see if they’ll turn on
the other his nights
rubbing words
off white paper
every village has an idiot
it treats with sympathy
in a little while i know
they’ll be treating me

°°°

i never wanted to be
a good customer
asking for this or that
red wine
thanks
hasta la vista
i wanted to go in
both feet planted
on the doorman’s chest
telling the mirror
- shut up
and the clock
- hands down

°°°

a good poem
takes years:
five playing soccer,
five more studying sanskrit,
six carrying stones,
nine falling for your neighbor,
seven taking a beating,
four going it alone,
three changing cities,
ten changing the subject,
an eternity, me and you
along together

°°°

and old poem that seems to fit so well today...

AlOnE

i MISS MY FRIENDS,

MISS MY FAMILY,

MISS MYSELF.

i MISS MYSELF FULL OF REGRETS

REGRETS OF NOT BEING WHAT i WANTED TO.

i MISS ALL THE ABSENCE WHICH ONCE SURROUNDED ME...

i FEAR ME

i FEEL SORRY FOR MYSELF,

AND i ALSO HAVE OTHER VIOLENT FEELINGS TOWARDS ME -

VIOLENT FEELINGS,

BUT THEY JUST STAND STILL ON THE TOP OF THE SHELF,

RIGHT NEXT TO MY POT OF LOVE WHICH IS DUSTY AND DULL.

EVEN BEING FUZZY AND GOOEY, IT'S JUST ONE.

i RELISH ALL THOSE WHO ARE ALONE,

CHERISH MY LOSSES TOO.

FEAR INVADES MY HOUSE,

BREAKS INTO MY ROOM,

AND IT'LL COVER WHATEVER IT SEES FIT.

NO FRIENDS TO PROTECT ME,

NO FAMILY WHATSOEVER,

AND WHO ELSE IS LEFT TO HELP?

NOT EVEN MYSELF.

i MISS MYSELF.

lonely loner for long long long time...

a pointless post...

I found this sort of post in other blogs around. Don't understand the main purpose of it, however I have a major fun by listing things... This one was not much different:

Three names I go by:
1. Lailouca;
2. Krishina;
3. Lailets;

Three screen names I have had: I change nicks every second throughout the day, so here I'll register the last three...
1. Kris;
2. I will eat your soul;
3. lailAAA;

Three physical things I like about myself:
1. I love the fact that I stink;
2. I love my hairy mole cluster located on my chin. It gives people the creeps;
3. I love my eleventh toe.

Three physical things I don't like about myself:
1. My big ass... It makes me look fatter than I am;
2. I hate my pinkish lips - it alters other colors of lipsticks;
3. I hate my bad-hair days;

Three parts of my heritage:
1. Portuguese Jewish
2. Brazilian Native Indian
3. Spanish Moros

Three things that scare me:
1. being robbed;
2. left out friendless;
3. beerless fridges;

Three of my everyday essentials:
1. strong black coffee
2. make up
3. internet

Three of my favorite musical artists:
1. Yo La Tengo
2. Brazilian Music Sucks
3. David Gray

Three of my favorite songs:
1. D
2. Eleonor Rigby
3. Cats in a Bowl

Three things I want in a relationship:
1. to have a relationship;
2. to have the urge to live that relationship;
3. never get bored while experiencing that relationship;

Three LIES:
1. I am Martian.
2. I don't pick my nose.
3. I will live forever.

Three TRUTHS:
1. I love being bugged.
2. I like melancholic art.
3. I must get back on poetry writing.

Three things about the opposite sex that appeal to me:
1. Wit.
2. Assertiveness.
3. Confusion.

Three of my favorite hobbies:
1. listening to people whining.
2. reading.
3. watching thrillers.

Three things I want to do really badly now:
1. get a ticket to Europe;
2. get me a digital camera;
3. finish up my book;

Three occupations I have already considered having:
1. An architect;
2. A journalist;
3. A screenwriter;

Three places I want to go on vacation:
1. Iceland
2. Bariloche
3. Osaka

Three kid's names I like:
1. Annaïs
2. Ian
3. Chelsea

Three things I want to do before I die:
1. Own a llama
2. Get the master's degree accomplished
3. Have a book published

Three ways that I am stereotypically a boy:
1. I like burping loud;
2. I love skateboarding although I can't make those tricks.
3. I can only wear sneakers - higheels give me blisters.

Three ways that I am stereotypically a girl:
1. I love make-up... lots of it;
2. I have notebooks and journals written with colored scented pens;
3. I cry for nothing... all the time!

Three celebrity crushes:
1. Marlon Brandon
2. Ethan Hawke
3. Gavin Rossdale

What was I thinking to let this post be part of my blog??? BULL.... I guess... Oh well... It's my own spot so I must publish here whatever the f*** I want!!!

Wanted Friends - Welcome to adulthood

All my friends are away, especially those from my hometown. None of them continued living there, neither did I. They all took different paths and I had to do it too.

As I have already mentioned in many other posts in this blog, I've lived in 5 other places before settling down here and for that reason it was inevitable to make friends or just acquaintances in all those places. I met people that were very special at that moment. They helped me out in difficult situations. Their help was more than welcome especially because being far from both family and the country where I was from, that young, may have sounded way fun but it was pretty challenging.

These folks (good friends) appeared so connected so linked that we even made sure to exchange our homeland addresses and phone numbers so that we could keep track of ourselves afterwards. It's sad but this is so true that most of them have not tried hard enough to contact me. All that friendship seems now useless, fake, or merely favor exchanges. As a result, I must say to myself - WELCOME TO ADULTHOOD!

On the other hand, some of them have kept in touch for all those years and others have just returned from the 'shadows'. After almost 7 straight years, I finally got the chance to have the contact of a great friend back. It was a bit of a shock and at the same time a gift... a shocking gift. I received a wonderful e-mail and since then our friendship has growned. I can say that it is now much stronger than before when we had the chance to hold hands.

Friends are my armor. I respect all those who meant their deeds, favors, and help. They place faith back in my heart. No matter the distances and how long they don't keep track... as far as I can get to know they are or will be there, that is what matters in the end. I just wish I could make real friends more often like that one I mentioned above . It is so painful to accept the fact that the older we get, the harder it is to make new friends... yeah - once again - Welcome to adulthood!

My Old T-Shirts

OLD ROCK BAND T-SHIRT

Old T-shirt
My favorite band’s name is on it
It’s ragged, torn, worn out
It’s ugly, shrunk, and fucked up

Old T-shirt
Many times I’ve betrayed you
Trying to donate you or simply passing you on
But I couldn’t
You’re just made for me

Your color, format, design
Old T-shirt of mine
I care for you so much to let you die…

Old T-shirt
Again, you want to go
Silverfish are destroying you
Holes, stains, stitches
Rotten fabric, dull prints


No way, I won't be giving you away
It’s comfy to sleep with you on
It’s a blessing that we just can go on

by Laila Chris - Feb. 2005

Curiosity Facts: I've still kept some of my old band T-shirts. The first one I ever bought was a long-sleeved black Rush T-shirt. I got it in 1990. Well, honestly, the very first musical T-shirt I've ever had was a yellow and green Run-DMC one - not rock though. I had stolen it from my dad... I still don't know how he'd gotten it. Probably he brought it from the US in the mid 80's. Then, of course I bought a Bob Marley one, also black. My father gave me a Nirvana one in 1991. The funny thing is that I've never liked that band. For some reason my father had thought I did. He had gotten that one in the USA too. After that I started collecting them: Sepultura, Sex Pistols, and many others.

List of some of the things I had seen during the day which caught my attention...

1) Tibby tapping her paws on my right foot trying to wake me up;
2)Threads of hair on my bathroom floor;
3) An easy recipe on TV that I won't certainly try even though it made me wish to;
4) A gardner cleaning my yard;
5) Dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen sink.
6) Too many fans working in one place.
7) Second-hand porn movies being sold in a second-hand bookstore - how filthy this is... yew!
8) A staircase in a building that would be wonderful in a black&white snapshot - that made me want a digital camera more than ever.
9) A baby child who is from an apparently Japanese heritage with blond spiky hair.
10) A box with fragrant little tiny colorful Korean erasers that looked so tidy in that clear plastic container that I was supposed to get it. Now I don't know what I am going to do with those.

My day hasn't finished yet. I still need to return two DVDs and teach one more class. Chances are that I will encounter more things that may catch my attention throughout this evening. After this long day, I'll eat cold pizza, pop up a beer, and enjoy my favorite Brazilian TV show, barefoot and resting my legs on a stool in front of the TV set. I'll for sure end up burping while laughing because that is what normally happens to me when I mix pizza dough and beer!

Damn, who's gonna buy those porn movies???