hugs

Thanks Giving. An American holiday, which strangely gathers different cultures in a very atypical day. This year, a little sadder than usual with all this non sense in India...
I was invited to a lunch party on a friend's house to see his family again after two years.On the first time I went there, I was a little shoked by the whole Connecticut environment... all chic, all dressed up...
This year, I seemed to be prepared. Although dressing up has tooking me longer these days, I put together a very cute outfit. Truth has to be said, I was hoping this time, since I don't have a boyfriend, that my Conneticut was available. So there I went, on my cute high hills, Grand Central packed, metro North line straight to New Canan. On the way in, I was talking to my mom, and she reminded me to hug a lot, since that was a friendly house.
Great party, great people, great food... lots of laugh. No friend,though. For some reason, he was stuck in his school, which ended up being not that bad. I got the feeling that the family wanted to have me there and check me out. I did hug a lot. Afterall,it is a family holiday.But I got no feeling of satisfation. In other words, I was still missing hugs.
It has been 4 months since I hugged the las time (but who is counting).
Today I realized. The hugs I've been mising are not the formality kind. Not the ones you get on friends parties. The closest to a real hug I got there was the one the kids gave me. With pure honesty they just open their arms and cryed a little because I was leaving.
I've realized that hugs I miss are the ones that take long enough for you to forget you were hugging on the first place. The ones you just stay quiet, and so close to the other person that you smell their skin. For the longest the hug lasts you can forget formalities, terrorism, even the pain..

A week just for me

It may sound a little childish at this point, but from as long as I can remember I don't celebrate a birthDay. I celebrate a birthWeek. I get presents and messages for a whole week, and that makes this week the best in the whole year. Sometimes, people don't even know I celebrate a whole week, but it ends up I get their attention anyway. I did think about quiting this practice. I have heard that this may be a little too much... but what a hell!! I have this one life... all that bs. This is my life, which has preetty good moments, most of the times. I should celebrate a hell of it.
Well, this year I'm turning 25. Good age... good number. I have a whole fixation for the number 21, and I though that was a great age. But I was thinking, that was 4 years ago. Time does fly... very fast.
But I do have a lot to be grateful and celebrate. You see, it may be just a silly coincidence, but my birthday is always around Thanks Giving. It may just be a great way to make me look at my blessings and gifts and just count them.
I was thinking about time, lately. Is such a great word, that we can use for so many things. "It's time for a change..." I have no time these days... it's time for you to study... time's up... it's been such a long time...
I used to deal with time as if it was a great enemy. I remember never really being happy for growing up. I liked birthdays, but I wasn't really happy for having to change. Maybe because I was always very passionate about things and wish I could have just a little more time to enjoy them...
I don't know... what I have learned is that sometimes we wish time could pass faster so we don't miss anything; and sometimes we wish time could pass slower so we don't miss everything.
Funny,ham?
In the end, time is a great ally. I've learned that it is okay for me to have a long time ahead of me. I didn't have enough time to get mature or to get my ideas straight... and for that I may be naive and optmist. But I do have a loooong time to live, meet people and experiment things...
I remember at 20 visualizing how I would be at 25. I remember thinking that I would be, on my birthay month, defending my doctoral thesis and that I would be pregnant.
Silly, silly, silly... Because I've learned that I enjoy studying and that should never be rushed. I need time for my ideas. And for that reason, I am way far from having a family.
People I grew up with are getting marry,having babies... (not necessarily in that order).... but this is my time.
In reality, at 25, I am living in the best city of the world. I am accomplishing many dreams, such as been taught by Howard Gardner and living by myself. I am strong enough to take care of myself and face many challenges, such as not being polite when I have to, speaking up my matters... and I am allowed to be exactly the way I want.
Isn't that enough reason to celebrate a whole week?

About Caroles and Denises Part II

As mentioned before, one can have various friends, of varied kinds. The funny thing is that you cannot define a friend's type so easily. If you could, you wouldn't get hurt so many times.
For those who remember the last post on the same subject, I have very literal friends called carole and denise, and as stereotyped as it can sound they are opposites. I got this week on the mail a very delicate card where my dear friend denise thanks me for my concern about her and for a gift I brought her from home. My actions were some much simpler than her retribution. It really is true the saying that when you give you get so much more in return...
Nevertheless (and I apologize for my academic vocabulary... too many papers these days)my friend carole only gives me hard times...There is nothing really straight with this person. Nothing is for sure, and at any time you can hear an awful thing, whereas from denise you will only hear awsome things.
Last night, for the second time, I got the feeling that one of the traits of carole friends is xenophobia. Do you even know what this means?
According to our very useful wikipedia, Xenophobia is one of prejudice with more suspicion, hatred, anxiety and rejection against foreigners, or, more generally, against the different ethnic groups, or individuals whose face social, political and cultural life is unknown.
Awful, ham?
How awful then, is to hear from your dear carole friend that in her family nobody will ever get married with a foreign girl? that if they do, they will be out of the family... when, not only you are a foreign, but also you have dated her nephew?
but again, friends can't ever be similar, right?

Go Obama!!!

Even two days after the elections, I still get goose pums head to feet when I think about the wonderful outcome of 2008 elections.For the first time in my life I get so excited for Politcs. I actually quit voting long time ago in my birth country, which really made me think.
All over the country, and why not say, all over the world people are celebrating this great news. Not only we have the chance of a fresh start, but also, we have overcame many mistakes from the past.
I used we intentionally. That is because I felt so proud of this country, that is not really my birth country. Nevertheless, my grand grand parents were born here, and at their way, they worked hard to make America a better place.
I feel this now. America is a great place, with a lot of potential. We just really need change, commitment and hope, that Mr. Obama really seem to mean when he directs his words to America.
Today, I can't help at feeling American. With proud, because here we celebrate when we get, united, to a better place. And even Politcs offer that much hope. Starting now, "we" has a whole new meaning to me.

Computers teach us about the human mind

Isn’t funny that after the pain is gone, or is at least milder, we begin to miss that painful sensation? Isn’t terrible still need analysis and answers from a jerk when you are getting back on your feet? Because I know I am the only person reading this blog, I can be totally honest.
Although I feel much lighter and free to do my things, it does feel weird. Lately, the mix of my emotions is so intense that I get dizzy sometimes. I see a very bright and promissory academic future only depending on my personal effort, but I also see (and feel) the price of this dream.
I can feel the pain on my neck and knees because of the long hours seating and reading. At the same time I get so excited to seat beside Howard Gardner. I feel so good about myself when I realize that my studies are filling my curiosity, but I also count the days since the last time I hugged someone.
I was trying to find a metaphor to write about this open faucet of emotions, and I just found it. I had just heard a voicemail that the mentioned jerk left saying he hopes to hear from me someday, when the ITS guy said to me my computer’s fixing was taking too long. “You should just back up all your things, wipe it all out and restart everything”.
Ham… we are definitely learning about our minds from computers. No doubt about it. Cognitive Science is on the right path.
For some reason my computer has wireless connection, but the browser is not working. No virus, nothing apparently wrong. Still, something is very wrong. What else do I have to look for?
Nothing. The specialists spent 3 hours. Then, they just ask me to back up and they all said good luck. So that is it. Wipe it all out, back up and restart.
Can I do that? Or better, can I even make the USB thing even work?

Donate your frames (Doe suas molduras)

Every morning when I wake up, I hate my hair. At that time, it looks great! It shines, it's all straigth... The problem is that I have oily hair, and if I don't wash it, by the end of the day it will be disgusting. So, I wash. Since I have no time to blow dry, I complaint the rest of the day. Now, they are too puffy.

It seems that no women is satisfeid with their hair, ever!! Okay, maybe ever is a little too much. Most of the times. I have to confess, though, that I love the fact that my hair is straight and that nobody has the same color as me.

We talk about Politics, save the trees of the Amazon forest, do PhD, conduct a whole orchestra, and yet, give too much importance to hair issues. That is because while we save the trees on the Amazon, we also inspire sensuality, conquer guys'hearts e make all that work at the gym worthy.

Now, stop and think. It doesn't matter the form of your hair - thick, thin, curly, straigth - or the color of your hair - red, blonde, brown, honey, hazel. What does matter is the fact of having hair. Have you ever thought about not having it?

Anaelena, Célia, Edi , Ierecê - have. These are the names of special women to me that had to think of not having their hair because of one of the most terrible diseases of our tims: Cancer.

Now, Quinho, vó Círia, prof. Flávio, tia Ierecê, prof. Touché, vô Alberto, dra. Anaelena, Darinaldo... these are some of the names of people I have lost because of Cancer. So now, I will honor them.

Starts today, here and now, a very special campaing. We, women who have beautiful hair and hearts even more beautiful, will, in honor of those who we lost, donate the frames of our faces - our hair.

Because we want that this terrible disease doesn't affect what women have of higher price - their face. And, if the face is the reflection of the soul, let it be always beautiful.

So, you, beautiful woman with beautiful hair, won't you join us and let your hair grow, or cut it right away, and donate it to our friends in the fight for cure of cancer?

please visit us at Doe suas molduras

The idiot’s week

As suggested by my very smart sister, this past week will be known and remember as the idiot’s week – the week in what the world was more round than usual. Do you get it? If you don’t get it yet, let me expose the last events.
From here, the very cool living in NYC perspective, I have to say that in this week more happened than in the whole summer. In fact, not only more happened, but also only bad things happened. I had just thought that this summer had been so special to me, so much fun… then, this awful second to last week of August happens like this.
I was being betrayed by someone I had the highest confidence. I pass through the whole grief cycle: shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, testing, and acceptance. (Once second thought, I didn’t pass through denial or testing) Of course, I was petting myself. Of course I was feeling as an idiot. But in the end, I found the real idiot J.L.
From there, the very cool living in SP, my sister has to say that even the good guys (or at least we see them like that) are idiots. It seems that the whole progesterone carriers, including M, can’t decide how many girls they need in order to be satisfied. Maybe we should define male necessities.
Maybe, I don’t care. Maybe progesterone carriers are the dumbest, the more complicated and the more primeval creatures we have to live with. M can’t decide if he should hang out with the new distance girlfriend (maybe imaginary) or with the old one, who happens to be quietly being.
You know, maybe the saying that guys can’t do more than one thing is wrong. Or maybe, incomplete. Guys can, indeed, do two girls at the same time. And, again, their “idioticism” worth a week, the idiot’s week.

My statement about you and me

I realized that like this, things are much less complicated. In these terms, this relationship requires me to take far less bs, and I don’t need to deal with your bad humor and hypo. I can watch the cheesiest movies, listen very loudly to Black Eyed Peas and wear my black shining boots. Wake up early, scratch my face and cough once in a while. I can wear red on my lips, play with my hair and hang out on places I have never been in the city, like the stupid Coney Island.
We still talk on the phone about absolutely nothing… we still have dinner, we still “talk, just five minutes” then, take cochilinhos. I still think about you, and I know that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t keep calling me until I pick it up. Then, we make jokes, then we flirt, then we cook, play poker, then we have fun and then forget that we’re not together anymore.
Are we? It feels good, but is it really? I am confused, and so are others. Even the good and hot feelings seem weird.
Maybe it is because you have said so many times I don’t want you, but I love you; I need to be alone now, but come over; I’m letting you go, but can you be my date at Dave’s wedding?
Or, its just self-protection. My heart has been broken too many times these past two years. Sometimes by you, sometimes by others let by me, sometimes by me, all by myself. So I think my heart, itself, don’t let me get too involved. Because if I have carefree fun, I forget that you and I are just friends.
Instead of carefree fun, I have Cinderella fun (the one that ends at midnight, and she knows it in advance). I go back home with the feeling “it was good”; but the questions “what was this?”, “am I the only one having it?”
I guess your clearness is very blurry and you are either a player, or a weak. You like the fun and security, but you don’t assume it as a relationship. That is just stupid.
I assume that I took too long to finish this statement. I assume that I let myself confused and let things just be. I should have demanded things to be on my terms, but I didn’t because I thought your actions were coming from a complicated mind, but were honest. I was wrong.
Therefore, I am changing the terms. You are not who I think you were. You are just a pathetic, needy guy, who doesn’t know how to love. You do know how to enjoy it, but not how to give it.
You won’t have my love or my friendship any longer, for the simple fact that you were not honest. I would have taken it, the truth. But the truth coming both from words, and actions.
The good thing is, I am not confused anymore. I was honest with my feelings, and that is what it matters.

About Denises and Caroles

It’s a fact. In one person’s friendship circle there are various and varied friends. One has preferences and for each situation, a different company. But some people bring the best on you in about every situation.
That is the case of the friends I would like to call /Denise friends/. These people could be described as the ones who open their hearts to a newly known person, just for the sake of the command love one another. Then, after knowing better that stranger, take care of them and let them be part of their own family.
In these sense, they are very similar to the type of friends that I call /Carole friends/.Both open their hearts and houses to strangers with the aim of help, but /Carole friends/ have many more reserves. However, they do have differences.
If one gets home with very exciting news about one’s career and academic stuff, /Carol friends/ don’t really support the news and perspective decisions, because they would be more difficult and intense. /Denise friends/ though, say the opposite. “They will be intense, indeed, but everything this one (me, the writer) does is intense. She can take it.”
Do you get it? Whoever needs to define the difficulty is the subject (me, again, the writer) who is only asking for incentive.
In another situation, when a /Denise friend/ finds out she has a serious disease, she decides to fight for her life. By fighting I mean with courage and hope (lots of it). She gathers strength to carry on. She trusts in whenever her doctor says, without asking too much. After all, she is not a doctor!! She decides to reserve to herself all the red tape and money wise details and don’t worry anybody; and she looks amazing!!
A /Carol friend/ worries about the billing, the procedures – not even knowing the proper names for those - the recovery, the life after C… She demands to know about everything even though this knowledge won’t solve any of that. Moreover, she forgets to deal with her own business.
If I would categorize the people in my life in only two categories, it would be easy - that is not what happens. You see, friends come into our lives bringing their own marks and history, which will make part of our life too.
We can choose which of those marks we want to perpetuate in ours. In the end of the day, what really counts are the good words you have heard, the ones you can actually smile at.
My /Carole friends/ and /Denise friends/ are actually called Roberta, Christian, Matheus, Claudia, Beatriz, Diogo, Ricardo, Laudia, Paulo, Joseph, Nassin, Patrick…

The annual

There are few things that really make me uncomfortable. Wet feet, tight shoes, lies… but the one on the top of my list, is definitely the well known annual gynecological exam. First, you have to wax; there is no way out. Second, you need to dress nice, even though you will certainly take it off.
Today, I had to do it. It is a healthy and smart obligation, I know. But couldn’t this be a little less awkward?
I got there before 9, read some terrible stories in the waiting room, ranging from tortures done by the Hamas (and the Bush administration probably involved) to Lindsay Lohan revealing herself as a lesbian. Had to answer those horrible, yet pattern, questions… Then, I was called.
The nurse, clearly bored. She asked me to strip without even let me warm up in the situation. I told her that in my past experiences people wanting me naked would at least get me in the mood for… talk a little… she didn’t laugh.
After a while, I was undressed when the doctor came in. She started asking me the same awkward questions from the chart. Are you sex active? Do you have sex with men, women or both? Do you have vaginal, anal or… You know those questions…I had to answer it all over again, wondering what is the percentage that actually says the truth.
But the real problem at that time was the fact that I wasn’t understanding what my doctor was saying. Seriously, she had some kind of problem on her throat or something. I had to say I’m sorry all the time. Not only I was naked, not only I was exposing the quantity of drinks I have and how many times I drink…but also I didn’t understand her English.
After the questions, the actual drama. Lay down, open my legs and pray for the best. I have to make a pause right here. I have to express my feelings about it. I FEEL LIKE BEING FUCKED BY A STRANGER!!! I’m sorry it does sounds terrible, but is true. It hurts and you know you are not getting any pleasure from that. On the opposite.
To make a long story short, she was finally done. But now was time for the verdict. We went to her office, and I asked… was everything okay?She actually looks to her screen and says oh, no!!! Oh my god… I’m so sorry.It is Chlamydia, Gonorrhea… or HIV? or cancer? … Jesus!!! She looked at me and said again, I’m sorry…. I was already praying when she said… my computer has been down for weeks…
I wanted to kill her. Are you kidding me?
From there I just got some different pills, a lecture of contraceptive methods, and the feeling that I was labeled: Drinks too much, occasionally, no boyfriend and has big hips caused by the pill. Needs to come back in three months. Hopefully, with better news. That would be less inches on the hips and “a partner”. Gizz..

It's just laziness

From all the sayings that friends and family tell you in a breakup situation, few can be really used. He doesn’t deserve you, he is a jerk, stop seeing him, enjoy your single life and improve you pick up techniques… when truth is that those saying hurt. In fact, I feel much more stupid for being the one who is unable to let go, even when everybody else sees “better”.
It seems that the heart is the one in command, and everything else is weaker. You can be resolute to stop talking to the bastard, be aware of all the mistakes, but on the first minute you speak to him, you just melt. Someone told me, it’s okay. That sounds like real love.
Is it really? Going for a walk after a long day of memories, I had a thought. We don’t let go because we can’t against the heart? or we don’t let go because we simply don’t want to fight? Are we still in love, or are we just lazy?
If you know the guy is a bastard, don’t appreciate you the way you should be appreciated, don’t call you, show love in front of others, but don’t assume the thing… why keep yourself in this?
I most certainly have an answer: Because it is comfortable. There is intimacy there, there is comfort coming from good memories, and there is certainly love. But somehow this combination is not enough. By enough I mean, all the time, no surprises.
If we were not lazy, we would be walking around Soho, carrying lots of bags… we would be drinking Liche Martinis and flirting in bars… or we would simply be thinking about something else then the guy.
In sum, it is laziness don’t let go, don’t get over. The revolving door relationship is a destructive behavior.
Trying to figure out all this new theory of mine, I was walking around midtown, when I met Gwen. I haven’t seen her since last Thanks Giving, but I meant to call.
She is just separating from her husband, something that for many reasons, I saw happening way before. When I said, I’m sorry for the entire situation. She said, Thanks. But I actually feel better.
There I found a truly strong woman, who always seemed to me, a polite and beautiful and refine lady.
No appreciation is enough reason to get off. Laziness is not for strong women, who know their value, Who know how fabulous they are, even without that “comfortable” relationship.

The J guys

From all the keys in my keyboard, J is one of the less pressed… Funny, ham?



Joe, John, Jeremy, Jan, Joshua, Jake, Jim, James, jerk, jack ass,… how many guys do you know as J guys?
I happen to know 4 and at least three of them are listed on my cell, one after the other. Joe kept me around to have a backup whenever necessary. Jeremy screwed “one girl in special, but no relationship”. Joshua disappeared after had fun for hours in a number of dates. Came back from the death, and died again. John has, in his words, a complicated relationship with the girl he currently lives with. Still, he kisses another girl and remains stabbed by the pain that two girls can give to a guy (as he signalizes every time he “has to go”).
It seems that there is a pattern among these guys with the J initial (which can actually be found in most American guys?). One thing has to be said, though. They are hot; they have charm and most have blue eyes (my Aquiles heels). That is exactly why we fall for them.
They also tend to be lay back, to be sure about the girl’s feeling and to have the very lame line I call you. They never do. Actually, what they do is to get girls’ Aquiles heels and scratch their confidence. It was like this with me, with Nassin, with Lissete… even with Sarah, who went out with a guy she doesn’t remember the name. But she swears his initial was J.
Was the guy’s initial really J, or was Sarah just hurt by one more guy in this city?
I’ve been intrigued by this subject for few months now. I’ve realized that all my messy affairs have involved J guys. Either they have a problem (the motivation of my theory) or I do. So, I propose that the real discussion here touches the question why great girls end up with J guys?
Let me tell you these two short stories about great girls and J guys, who ended up being stupid girls. A great girl, who wants to remain anonymous, got involved with a very hot guy. You know, the whole package. Tall, strong, brown eyes and hair. From the beginning he had an addition to his package: a girlfriend. To make a long story short. The great girl got not only a phone call from the girlfriend, but also an inappropriate e-mail, named after John, but written by his girlfriend.
A different girl, also wishing to remain anonymous, just because the whole thing is so dumb, had an affair with this J guy, who liked her when she didn’t. When she started liking him, it was a little late. He said, do you remember when I used to chase you? Now it’s your turn. This is payback. His name: Antonio.
From these stories I conclude the theory. Male specimens named after J have names which not necessarily start with J, but their soul start definitely with Jerk. For that reason, they are the weakest in the group. They can’t even break up an affair; their actual girlfriends do that for them…

Summer Days

June, July, August and September… the best months of the year. Sunny days, longer days. Free days, more fun days. It’s great. Not that I don’t miss school. I kindda of do. But summer days are days that you can enjoy free time and do things it’s being long enough you don’t.
Think about myself is one of them. My actions, my dreams, my mistakes. They are more certainly much related. I happen to have a very dear friend spending the summer here with me. He has been a true company, taking care of me and making me see who I am these days. Although the sun is so beautifully shinning outside, I seemed to be stuck in a shadow. There is no breeze, and I cannot be comfortable with all the sweating.
I think there are so many things rushing in my mind that I am still not ready to really enjoy the summer days. These things range from a love one disease and a friend’s mistakes to my messiness in love. You see, although I seemed to priorize the disease concern, in my mind they actually occupy the same degree.
I am trying to understand what makes people to stuck themselves in shadows in such beautiful days. It is more certainly not because of the comfort. It has to be same kind of fear or stupidity. For that reason, I’m trying to focus on my own mistakes.
To carry on a relationship to a senseless point was my last season mistake. I let things get confusing… blurred. Maybe because I was cold and needed a cozy feeling. I wore different coats, but it was still a long and cold winter.
On spring, I finally felt a little warmer and ended up opening my heart. Big mistake. I set myself in a heart breaking situation one more time. Instead of getting ready for a restart, I let my heart be broken, again, like in the whole winter. No blooming this spring. Or no, let me rephrase that. Small blooming this season.
So maybe I should stay in the shadow for a little longer. Give time to repair and get stronger; make sure it won’t happen again. Because I do want to go outside and play with water, eat tones of ice-cream and get same tun.
Better hurry up. On the 20th, summer is on.

Tech is definetely to everyone

Stigmas limit people to deal with technology. I was one of those people. I could use internet, do some research and check my e-mail. You know, basic things. Aside for that, I would not even dare to touch.
I really don’t know how, but I ended up on this very fun class, Technology Trends in Music Education, as one of my NYU classes. I am a different person now. I was always curious about how things work. Now, I pretty much have an idea. For example, do you know how the fax machine works? To me, is one of the most mysterious technologies.
This answer, I still don’t know. What I do know is how web pages are built. In fact, I can make a very basic one. During this semester, we had to built a web page dealing with some of the most advanced programs, which was pretty fun.
Even better, was the chance to get to know better our classmates. If see them playing their instruments, which unfortunately we don’t get to see much, is already very cool, imagine to see them doing imaginable technologies work.
Delio made this beautiful video showing a regular day in his life. Nasim told the history of her country. Eva has this very colorful and fun page. Rafael has sophisticated compositions. No page is similar. Incredible how once you know how to combine commands, creativity has no limits.
As myself, I started this blog, in which I’ve been having a lot of fun… I made a present to my mother on my animation page, and I got to know Photoshop and my newest passion: Audacity.
You have to check it out our Tech Class page. And, do a favor to yourself. This summer, try to learn something on computers. It’s not that hard. In the end, you even know why thr page don’t open. Because you forgot to write the dam html.

Sonhando Acordada

De vez em quando, eu tenho esse sonho em que eu estou flutuando no ar. Meus movimentos sao bem amplos e me sinto leve que só. Eu só toco no chão de vez em quando com a pontinha fos pés, só pra dar impulso. De repente, eu acordo. Me dou conta da sensacão maravilhosa que eu acabei de sentir e tento dormir de novo. Forco meus olhos e simulo os mesmos movimentos... mas ja e tade demias. O pior,eu só sonho este sonho uma vez em anos!!
Por dias eu fico pensando nisso, ainda com certa memoria muscular, mas com o tempo até isso se perde. O que eu faco? Eu fecho os olhos e imagino que estou nesse sonho. Com certeza, não é a mesma coisa,mas eu posso sentir a falata da sensação boa que eu tive.
Eu tive esse semana passada e isso me fez pensar, porque noos prazeres nunca sao o suficiente? Por que é que sensações boas, como comida gostosa, cheiro de roupa lavada, primeiro encontro, fim de corrida e uma noticia boa, depois de um tempo – geralmente curto – acabam?
Passei muitos dias pensando nisso. Pensando em como “tristeza nao tem fim, felicidade sim”, e em como mesmo sabendo disso muito bem, ainda tento voltar a fechar os olhos e sonhar de novo.
Acabei de me dar conta de uma coisa: comida gostosa vira calorias, que eu vou ter que queimar na academia, usando minha roupa lavada. La, vou paquerar um garoto bem lindo com quem eu vou sair e ouvir depois de uns dias a otima notícia de que ele esta pnsando em mim.
E, por que a vida é assim incrivel mesmo – de uma maneira estranha. Ha um equilibrio entre bem/mal e bom/mau a todo instante que pessoas teimosas assim como eu tenta quebar. O que sobra disso, eu vivo sonhando acordada.
Sonhando em como foi bom nosso ultimo cafe-da manh~, como foi bom dormir do seu lado aquela noite que nao queriamos perturbar o papai, como era bom ir pra Hidro e fofocar, ou dirigir você pra banco, supermercado, lavanderia, sapataria...
Disso... disso eu sinto falta.Muita falta. Mas eu sei que esta falta me faz estudar mais, viver melhopr e esperrar ansiosa a sua visita.Que eu espero, seja em breve, muito breve.
With love, to mom.

Day dreaming
Once a while, I have this dream where I’m floating in the air. My movements are wide and I feel so light. I only touch the ground with my tiptoes, just to get impulse. Suddenly, I wake up. I realize what just happened and I try to sleep again. I press my yes and repeat the movements… but, it’s too late. The worse thing is that I only dream this dream one time in years.
I keep thinking about it for days, still with some muscle memory, but with the time even that is lost. What do I do? I close my eyes e imagine I’m still in this dream. For sure it’s not the same thing. But, I can at least miss that good feeling.
I had this dream last week and I could not stop at wonder, why pleasures are never enough? Why good feelings, like good food, smell of clean clothes, first date, end of running and good news, after a while, often short, end?
I spent many days thinking about that. Thinking in how “sadness has no end, happiness does”, and in how even knowing that very well, I still close my eyes and try to go back to sleep.
In the end, I realized something: good food becomes calories that I’ll have to burn at the gym, using my clean clothes. There, I’ll flirt with a very cute guy with whom I’ll go out, and hear after some days the great news that he is thinking about me.
Yes, because life is really amazing, in a strange way. There is balance between good/ bad and well/ bad at all times, which stubborn people, like me try to break. What happens? We are constantly day dreaming.
Dreaming about how good was out last breakfast, how good was to sleep by your side that night we didn’t want to wake dad, or how good was to go to swim with you and gossip, or to drive you to the bank, the laundry, the supermarket, the shoe repair….
That... that I miss, very much. But I know that this feeling make me study more, live better and wait anxiously your visit, which I hope will be soon. Very soon.
(dedicated to Mom)

Bolas

Bolinha de gude, bolona de yoga, bexiga de gas, bexiga de agua, bexiga bem grande cheia de bala, balinha, bombom, batom e biscoito em festa de aniversario.
Boia de braço, boia de cintura, bambole. Bola azul, bola roxa,bola amrela, balao de festa junina. Bola de neve, bola de fogo, bola de merda, bola de vime. Globo de neve, uva rede globo.
Bola de chocolate preto, bola de chocolate branco, bolota de nescau no leite,. Bolinha pra fazer bolachinha de aveia,bolona pra fazer pizza. Bola no parque, bola na praia, bola na escola, bola na praça.
Bola pra cima,bola pra frente.Bola pra tras, bola pra baixo. Baixa a bola! Bolinha na roupa, bola de lã. Bola de couro, bola de plastico, bola de sangue, bola de algodão.
Bola na rede: GOOOOOOLLLLLL. Futebolismo. Bola no escuro, bola da vez. Bolacha recheada, biscoito de maizena, bolinha de sabão. Bolota de queijo borbulhando no forno, bola de gorda, bolhas na pele, bolhas no pé.
Bala de coco, bala de mel, bala que arde, bala que corta. Bola na sala, bola no quarto, bola na cama, bola toda hora no corredor. Bolas de milho estourando, bolas de gente sorrindo. Bolas do carro rodando, bolas de cera no ouvido esquentando, bolas do stereo pulando. Bolas dos olhos brilhando, bolas de agua escorrendo, bolas do corpo encostando.
Bolas do corpo afastando, como bolas de gelo ficando.
Bia bonita, bela beleza. Tudo na vida sao bolas e balinhas... Busque-as!
(dedicated to bia bolelis)

When we less expect

When we less expect things happen, and it seems we are never prepared for it. We are never wearing the best out-fit when we meet a cute guy; we never have a pen when meeting a movie star – and that can happen at any time in NY.
Suddenly you lose things and people you love; accidently, you change the course of your life. In the blink of an eye, naked trees get covered of yellow, white, pink and purple flowers. Suddenly, the temperatures get 60’s, 70’s and everybody is cleaning their closets.
Life always shows off surprisingly. And that is certainly one of the greatest things about living. Although sometimes, you just get caught completely out of guard. The rebalance – or the recovery – is always longer. That is because, under any circumstances, we just get used to things.
We get used to see certain people on the subway. It kind of gives you the sense of constancy. Every day when I come home I see these two Chinese ladies on my train. It feels nice, although I don’t even know them. Now imagine how much one misses one’s best friend when this has to go.
How much time it takes to cure a broken heart, especially when this heart has been broken it’s being a while? How much time it takes to take a plane to Brazil and see the sister that you haven’t seen in one year? The answer is one year + 9 hours of flight, and the visit will end in last than 2 weeks.
How much time it takes to prepare a portfolio or a piano piece? Months of practice and hard work. How long it takes to play or to present it? 9 minutes.
Isn’t the time a concept very difficult to understand, and to cope with? Too complex, although who learn how to deal with it, can be called very smart. It has to be called smart. Finally NY got warmer temperatures. Suddenly, rain again. This weekend, after a gorgeous week, it will rain.

No solicitations

Check out this story. My friend Karen has a very close guy friend, who last Saturday invited her to a wine tasting. She never went to it, although she even changed her shift. This guy ended up taking his fck buddy. Because, his words, I can get more than wine later.
Another guy told me over dinner, ye, I like to hang out with one girl in special. We go to the movies once in a while but, no strings attached. I told her I don’t want a relationship, at least not a serious one. I just want to be stand. She asked me to call her more times. Ye, I can do that…
What? One special girl, no relationship. Good sex, no love. What is that American guys want exactly?
I couldn’t stop thinking about it for the last couple days, until I realized something. Maybe American guys are crazy, but maybe that is why American guys are rich. I’ll elaborate.
Maybe this kind of “thing” (since fck buddy doesn’t mean relationship) is actually the best thing a girl (and a guy) can have. You have a nice, good smelling human being to kiss… and more. You don’t really have to call him, hence you have time to do your things. Since you don’t have to see him all the time, you save outfits. You actually save quite money, or you repeat out fits in other casual dates. To those casual dates you can go, indeed. You can flirt, you can kiss… and don’t need to worry with nothing else, because you have your fck buddy.
Putting it in the balance you cut the bs, you cut the bad humor, you cut the drama. You keep the fun, the novelty and have time to write your final papers. From here you conclude. American guys are richer because they just cut the death weight. And maybe we should learn from that.
Where there are no solicitations, there is no opportunity. Dream jobs, the ones who offer good salary, and benefits, demand hard work. The application process is long; interview, observation, demonstration of work, salary discussion. But in the mean time, or in the search time, you can always count on the U$ 7.50/ hour relationship. It’s not “The one”, but it keeps you active.

“History won’t judge us for the day we left, but for what we left behind”

Sunday morning is when you can get a little more intellectual in terms of politics if you don’t really care – or don’t have time to – during the week. George Stephanopoulos show at ABC is more like a debate where intellectual people, at least apparently, give their opinions about Politics. These days, the most important issue seems to be the Elections. The whole nation seems to be very concern with the type of government America will have next. Nothing is for sure at this point, but one thing is certain: people want change.
A big portion of the debate last Sunday was on Mc Cain’s response to an reporter, who asked his view on Bush’s comment that “If necessary USA will stay in Iraq for 10 years”. Mc Cain’s answer seemed to be even worse, “We’ll stay there for 50 years, if necessary”. Chokingly stupid, right? But even more stupid (if you can get that far)was the comment of Senator Lindsey Grandham on McCain’s response saying that “Mc Cain didn’t really mean how he sounded”. He continued, “History won’t judge us for the day we left, but for what we left behind”.
Really? Is what you get more important than how you did that?
I’ve been wondering about intentions these days. Intention is what moves us toward or away from something, and because of this; intentions determine the quality of our actions. An expression in my language says something like this: Your actions have to make you feel hot, have to make you tangle. You have to be 100% sure of why you doing whatever you doing.
On this same last Sunday, I had a meeting with some people I’ll present a paper with. The reason of the meeting was to discuss the book we had to read and will present. The presentations is by the end of the month, the reading… who knows? Nobody read the book. Still, everybody – including me – left their homes on the sacred hours of Sunday and came to school to do nothing. Why?
Time seems to have lost its importance, because in the end things will get done anyway, right? Wrong. Things will get done, but which type of things?

A clash kind of question

Saturday night. There are plenty of things you can do in NYC. Movie and make out, bowling, casual dinner, drinks on Downtown, read in the library, sushi delivered and eaten on bed… But after a very busy day the question is not what to do anymore, the question is should I stay or should I go?
When you wonder going out on Saturday night and probably missing Pilates class on the next morning (because the greatest class is on the NYSC Mercer’s club at 12:30h) Clash’s song comes to mind. Is this guy really worth your butt less firm? Same question when you wonder going out with an ex, or with someone new. Or when you wonder about going out with a new guy, when you have an ex. If I can even get the fork along with my take out dessert, why can’t I get some clear answers?
I always hear people on their 30’s, 40’s and 50’s that 20 something’s years are the easiest, and therefore “20 something people” should just enjoy it. They are, indeed, right about the enjoying part, but not about the easy part. Because you see, they have some very clear answers about some questions that we, “20 something people” don’t. Maybe this is part of the fun… who knows? The point is when we should go – with our hearts – to hang out in the city, and when we should stay – and just chill out, is never for sure.
This new guy? great kisser, great smile… very cute and even interesting. The ex guy? Great Guy. Still no answers of whether they are (still) mine, or not. Or if my decision of not going to play bowling with a third party was a good one. Maybe we should just have uncertain answers… Maybe clear answers just make everything complicated, but the doubt kills.
Maybe in the occasion of the clash question you should stay. You know, better be sure, and don’t make mistakes or make things complicated… Or maybe you should just go, meet new people, have a good time, and who knows… regret, or don’t.
Too many questions, not many answers. Can’t make up my mind.

Birthday Chronicle

As we live our lives, we see a lot. We see bad and disgusting things, but beautiful things too. Bad things like people dying and lying. Beautiful things like a salt desert that reflects the sky as perfect mirror or a charmed coffee shop. As we live our lives, we do things. We change and fight for things; we inspire. We impress people through our actions, even if we didn't mean it. As we live our lives we get old. Small things get bigger, up turns down... wrinkles, cellulites... It all changes, way before 40... Hopefully, as we live our lives we'll make mistakes. We'll make mistakes because we do things. We have 2 choices: do things, make mistakes and get things done; or don't do things, make mistakes anyway, and get nothing done. But the great thing about mistakes is the after words. " You have a whole life to fix them" Hopefully, a long life ahead of you, full of opportunities, full of things to see and taste, and with many white mornings...If we a have a whole life ahead of us, we'll count it essentially by the days we live. At every day, by the morning, we have a chance to make it all better, because mornings are white. Someone very special tricked me with a question a long time ago: Do you know what it means "Branca e a tez da manha"(white is the color of the morning face) ? (I only got it, when I left this person) The mornings are white, pure. They give you a second chance, everyday. Because in the mornings there is nothing done, you have a whole day ahead of you. In NYC today, the whole day has been white. Everything looks brighter, pure... The snow is celebrating your special day giving to everything and everyone, a bit of its brightness and pureness. We have all to celebrate the fact that you have a whole life ahead of you to see things, to do things, to make mistakes, to fix and learned from them and to enjoy many white mornings. So, enjoy...
(Dedicated to Claudia, my sister. February/2008)

Nasim's game

New places, new games… I used to play truco, now I’m trying poker. It has being a little challenging. My problem seems to be memory. I can’t really remember the possible hands, so I take a little more time to learn the moves… still. The key word here is still, I’ll get there. But what I’m really into is work on my bluff.
What is bluff, anyway? Our always helpful Wikipedia says that is a bet or raise with an inferior hand that has little or no chance of improving. Dictionary.com says is self-confidence. Trying to play with words, thinking about my challenges, and still learning how to play poker, I couldn’t help at wonder: How does one’s bluff improve?
Nasim is a great girl I met in the city. She is from “the controversy Iran”, as she says. To me, she has no controversy. On the opposite, her strong values are a great lesson. As many others, Nasim came to this country pursuing a better education. Now, she is applying for her PhD. For great students, the States have great schools and opportunities, and that is Nasim’s case. She applied to two of the top schools in the Music field, and got accepted by both. The thing is that one school offered her a full scholarship for five years, and lots of benefits coming along. The other school, lots of benefits; still, she would have to pay for the program. As a smart person, she waited, and bluffed.
You could tell Nasim was more passionate for the school that wasn’t giving too many options. But her bluff was based on silence, observation. She knew how far she could go and how much she was worth, but she waited to see how far they think she would go. Every time she was updating me the news, I could only think about my last games.
Maybe because I can’t still, for some reason, visualize the hands, my moves have been not really careful – and still, no bluff. Maybe I let good hands pass and keep only the cards that will take me nowhere. Although sometimes, I feel that I just don’t know how to combine good cards and make a good move.
Maybe I’m doing it because I’m afraid to lose that one or two good cards or maybe, I just base my skills by those one or two good moves from an old game. It doesn’t mean much in poker. This game demands, actually, math skills, patience and seduction. Seduction is based on wait and silence.
It’s funny… when telling a small big girl I know about my last very messy affair, she told me (with the deep experience only a 19 year-old girl can have) “Never regret your silence. If you talk much, you gonna have to do much. And you… you don’t wanna do that much…”
Ye, Bia. Maybe be I’ve been doing too much… Playing too hard…. Thinking too hard… Maybe I’ve based my moves on what I guess my partners have in their hands…. That’s not how the game goes. Maybe I should be a bit surer about my hand, and on my bluff, before even getting into the table. And, definitely, I have to learn the right time to fold. Sometimes, it is just not worth all the effort, although you think you can win.
But how about Nasim’s game? Oh, she bluffed, she observed, she certainly seduced… but she realized that it was time to fold and go to the next table. Because in the end, it seems that let yourself free to try different tables is how you can really have fun.
Good luck Nasim! Have fun on your next table!

Some alarming news

Read the next line very carefully.
A study done by the American National Research whatever revealed that, among people in their 20’s at the present time, the life expectancy is 61 years for women and 57 years for men.
It is official, life is short.
I was once told that until 24 years-old, people flourish. Everything is developing, growing and glowing. After 24, is literally downhill. Everything starts to fall, grow to the sides, memory doesn’t work too well… suddenly, and everything is glooming. Carpe Diem, seize the day, life is now, live in the moment… how many of these clichés do we need to really start appreciating life?
How about start thinking in what really matters in life? Money… Friends… Career… and… Love…
I start with money. Since this is not in order of importance, I start wondering about my friend Chris. He is a successful business guy, great family, great wife, great musical talent, as people tell me. I never got the chance to see it. He has been too busy making money to guarantee his future. In the end of the week, with more than 50 hours of work done, even his wife misses him. How much having a good life is gonna cost him?
Then you think about your friends back home. The awful things you have said to some, the times you judge others. How good it feels when I remember silly things I used to do with friends. Here in the city, you enjoy very cool people. If you willing to live in the moment, NYC and New Yorkers can be your best partners. With their company, you can discover the most exotic culinary, tell the funniest jokes or participate in stupid contexts of who drinks faster a beer can. But, interesting enough that is not true to everybody. Not everybody thinks friends are one of the most precious things in life. I actually heard Antonio saying “I don’t believe in friendship”. I didn’t believe at the time he was serious, but this person proved to be okay without anyone. Not even when he got sick and had to leave the city.
But how about your career? If life is now, and as everywhere else in the world it takes time to get your niche in the city, can you say “yes, I’m happy as a cashier…” or “yes, I’m happy as an investor…”, or still, “yes, I’m happy spending all this money on my master’s” ? Are you really? Is this whatever you’ve been doing what you really want to do for the rest of your 20 or 30 years left?
Last, but not least… love. How much love are you getting these days? Now think carefully, because I don’t care for warm people, warm love, and warm conversations. Warm should be only your heart when you see who is calling. Everything else, in terms of love, should be extremely hot.
You gotta be sure of what you’re saying when “I miss you”, “I was thinking of you”, “I love you” and most important, “I’m looking for love” comes out of your mouth. Anything less than fervent, doesn’t count. How many sunny days have we missed hanging out by the bridge? How many nights with the most varied selection of colors in the sky have we let pass and didn’t really took someone out, just to see it?
Coming back home one of these days, I saw a Chinese couple seating in front of me. She was so angry at him. He knew, and he tried, on his own way, to make up. She never let him. I wonder what happened when they left the N train. Did they have time to make up? Or it was just too late?
I heard a girl saying the other day “I just want to have fun”, and I suddenly got what she was really saying, “I don’t want to get hurt”. I happen to disagree. Because if you don’t get hurt, you really didn’t learned.
I want everything to be intense. The love for my family, the kisses on my lips, the passion by my research topic and my living in NYC. And if the study I mentioned early is accurate, I will prove it wrong. I’ll live my expected 37 years meeting people, backpacking, and being amazed by the sky and especially loving. But I will last other 63. Because I’ll die at 124 years old.
(Dedicated to Grandma)

I hate cheap people!!

I was once called of cheap. That was because I didn’t give the tip to the waitress. It wasn’t fair; because where I come from we don’t give tips. But I’ve learned the lesson. Now, when I am back home, I give everybody a tip, even to taxi drivers… people there think I am crazy. In NYC, people know very well that you have to give the tip, and that this is based on 20% tax. However, I’ve been going out with some very cheap people.
I remember having lunch with some girl friends at Spice, the very charmed Thai restaurant at University Place. One of the girls had only a Thai tea, which cost, say, U$3.00. When the check came we decided to split at least the service, so she should give U$5.00. Fair enough, right? She did give the U$5.00, but asked me back her U$2.00, which I more than glad return it to her. You have to understand that we’re talking about a very wealthy girl, who goes to “The New York school of Interiors design”, who lives on the Upper East Side, and who spends money not at Forever 21, but at Diesel and Gucci.
While searching for material for this blog… just kidding, in my real life hanging around in New York, cheapness is the first sign of good, or bad, impression for me. I’ve been going out with some people, who you can tell to have, at least, a comfortable financial situation. Still, some of them have been split the check with me. I find it cheap. I’m not saying by that I want to be supported by guys buying me lunch. I actually feel better when I can contribute, especially when I am in a relationship. However, is the gesture that should be more valuable.
Isn’t funny that cheap people wear the better clothes? Live in Little Italy? Or go to very expensive schools?
One guy would make me walk around with him for blocks while he was searching for a cheap place to have lunch or dinner – and yet, split the check. For God sake, that was a date!!By this whole economic behavior, you would expect him to dress better and pay his piano lessons, but no…
My most recent experience was with a very particular guy. Again, expensive school, very good income, but terrible etiquette. After months without seeing each other, we went for dinner. Don’t take me wrong he is a friend, and I did expect to be taken to a cheap place. It’s been like this, since always. One day, we went to a tacky place at Broadway and 125thSt, which claims to be Cuban. Awful. I actually had to split the U$10.00 bill with him. Another time, pizza slice at a whatever place. Ah, don’t forget the sub at one of those places that you choose and they heat, and God knows for how long it has been seating there.
Tonight, he took me to an Italian place at the Upper West Side. And by place I mean a corner dinner, in fact a little dirty. Great pizza and service, but so cheap. We didn’t go there because the food was good, despite the appearance. We went there because it was cheap.
Then I realized, cheap people don’t give small tips or go to icky places, only. They are overall “of little account”. They don’t care for what you tell about your life; only their stories are important. Their eyes don’t follow yours, they look at their watches. Their travel to the very boring Denver is certainly more important than you telling about your recent necessity for a student loan.
Cheap people judge you. They don’t even wait for the end of your story to better analyze why you decided to take a discussable step. They look at you with that familiar look, that you have been given to yourself. And that, in fact, only you can give it. You know the whole story, you know the circumstances and you certainly know why you did what you have done. But cheap people are little. They don’t have space in their hearts and minds to consider it.
For all that, I propose one test for your next date, or even for the next time you go out to eat with friends. If they calculate how much their dishes cost, and don’t divide the final price, be aware. These people are not economic, they are just cheap. If they take you for drinks only at dinner time, or for a pizza slice, xiiii... Unless you are going to OTTO to have the pizza, it’s a bad sign. Remember, cheap people will judge you, won’t listen to you, but will make your hear about their small ambitions. Also, cheap people will never have a good time with you at Otto drinking wine and chatting about high level staff…

Look up

Since always, the gifts of the sky have been inspired people. There are songs, poems and odes to the sun, the stars, and the moon. By common sense, romantic and sensitive people like to watch this beauty. But every once and a while you cannot just passed by and don’t be amazed.
It’s been more than two years now, since I had a spectacular view of the moon in Chile, and since that, I love to watch it. But the wait for the full moon got a different meaning for me it’s been a little less than two years. As the ancient people, the moon reminds me which side I should go, and how long has the time passed.
This week, especially, the full moon is unbelievably beautiful. It may be because of the beginning of spring… People are saying it’s close to be a Harvest moon, even out of season. It’s perfectly rounded and shining. Every night has a different tone shining louder. Two nights ago, when you could see the whole sky illuminated, even the opposite side, it was silver. Tonight, it is yellow.
I find it so beautiful to look up, not only because I use it to count a time that has passed, but also because it reminds me how much alive I am, today. It seems that all my senses are enhanced and I can see clearly how much beauty is in the world, although we still get sad.
With eyes wide open, you see how much you can be losing if focusing only on ugly things. I smell better and try to use new scents. I can also scent problems from far…
I taste different flavors and remember that I should try something new every day, even onions and eggs. Textures and forms get unique and I know precisely what I want, and what I don’t want. Then I realize, I’m only wasting time when accepting… whatever.
But what I really enjoy is how (even more) absolute my ears become. I hear better what people say well about me, also bad. I recognize that I may be doing things in a wrong way, and that I have to fix it right away. That some impressions and pre-concepts that I had are not true, but that some truth is still true...
It is just because of this awakening that I could hear, just now, what I was missing for so long… And I felt very alive.
Maybe it’s not sensitive and romantic people that look to the sky. People get more open when they give the chance to look up. Don’t lose time to look to the moon, because you only have two more days, before it’s too late.

Spring fever

If you’re reading this chronicle right now, go outside and look to the sky. Take a look how big is the moon. Full moon. Then look to the other side of the sky… is illuminated. You know it is night, because you have a clock on your wrist. But, it looks like mid afternoon. It is so clear, so full of stars. It is really amazing. Today, March 20th is the first day of spring, and with that the hope of changing, and warmth weather.
I love to watch the sky, the changing on the landscape, new colors, new scents… but I’m intrigued. My girlfriend just told me something that I had never heard about… Spring Fever. She told me that this fever comes with the new season, exciting everybody. Everybody wants to kiss and love…then those who can’t do it, eat chocolate. Isn’t that the best thing ever?
Now, we have an ecological reason not only to make out, but also to eat chocolate. To go out and meet cute guys, and if don’t, just microwave a chocolate cake. By the way, look out. Not everything is delicious about chocolate. That ad showing girls, only girls, maybe in a spring fever night, eating the microwave chocolate cake… totally bull. I bought it yesterday and almost died. It’s really, really bad. Better try the new Ferrero Renoir, or the best ice cream ever: the Häagen Dazs Mayan Chocolate. This is a chocolate ice cream, with pieces of fudge and cinnamon. You just can’t find anything better.
So do this now. Go outside, take a look on the sky, and then decide: Go out, meet a new guy and make out, and everything is understandable (after all we’re in spring fever, not just spring break); or, if you think you not ready yet, take your time. We have until mid June to do it. But please eat some chocolate, wear some red. And don’t forget to look up to the sky. It is really beautiful, and we still have a whole season ahead of us.

You can take your money now

I once heard that if you live in NYC you are very lucky. That doesn’t mean that the living here is any easy, but it gives you sweet hopes. NY charges very high prices that sometimes you just can’t afford it. Things that are already expensive anywhere in the world become priceless here. And if you come here pursuing a dream, you gotta be prepared. Save and plan way ahead…

Occasionally, because we’re rushing all the time, we can get out of cash, praying to don’t need it. Although “life takes Visa”, you still depend on business that don’t take Visa. The laundry place or the grocery store on the corner of the 3rd,for example. That weekend, I went out of cash.

I had tones of laundry to do, but not enough coins. Sometimes I just pilled too many dirty loads in my room. I had a check to be cashed, but it was weekend. I guessed that only Commerce Bank would have services on weekends, not my bank. Either way, I thought I would have to wait for Monday to have the money deposited. In the end, checks are just a piece of paper, just a promise; and promises is what NY doesn’t lack. Real results… that is a whole different world. The wait is actually a very risky deal that can end up as a too expensive.

That weekend, I went to the movies with no friend, just Junior Mints. I had bought them and the ticket with my credit card. I have credit cards of my family’s account, which are always my security. I know that whenever, for whatever need, I will always have credit on them. However, a credit card is just a piece of plastic. What if the magnetic strip doesn’t work? What if the system is busy?

With U$3.60 on my wallet I couldn’t stop at wonder, how much life really costs in NYC?
· being lucky to be in a nice neighborhood for a decent money = U$1000
· don’t cook and don’t have to do dishes later = U$400
· have friends that will share the best time of your life = (still calculating. So far, priceless)

To make friends –real friends as I have back home – costs a high price here. It takes time to really know someone and make you known. Because maybe what is really expensive here is trust. We do have a lot of “friends” to hang out with, that interesting enough are so intense so quickly. But will they be by your side when you need help with a paper, a bad break up or a co-signer? That is completely different. Those you have really, really few.

By the end of the weekend, I went to the bank to do the deposit and get the money deposit first thing on Monday morning. How surprise I was when I saw that the money went through instantly.

When I read “You can take your money now” I asked myself what is really mine here? I had my answer on the way home, and I felt so good, now with U$ 43.60 on my wallet.

Just a ride

I really don't know why, but I didn't learn how to ride a bike at the right age. I first learned when I was 15! Then for the second time when I was 21, and so the third.I can't stop wondering what I was doing, so importantly, that kept me from riding a bike.

In different situations, and in different places, I missed riding a bike. Not that I know how to ride really well, but what I missed was the feeling of it. But what do I know? I can use my fingers to count the times I have ridden a bike.

You know what people say: this or that "it's like ride a bike, you never forget..." Is that so? Can we really just jump on something that we used to do and expect knowing how to deal with it all over again?

Last Monday, while trying to keep myself busy and don't expect any specific call, I decided to go outside and enjoy the breeze. Out there were my neighbors, three very fun kids. They were just "being kids" and I was admiring it. I was trying to remember how easy everything used to be. Sam had his bike, and the girls were teaching me all about Halloween and how they thought I should wear a ghost or a vet as a costume.

At that point, I decided to take off the adult costume I was wearing for a moment and asked Sam to try to ride his bike. He said yes, right away. I was so afraid. "Seat, pedal, balance... don't look to the side" I was thinking and thinking...Both Sam and Olivia were pushing me, holding me tight to the seat. It didn't work. The bike was too low.

"We have a higher one" Olivia said.Okay. One more trial.This time it was too high. I was afraid I would be all the way up there and have no balance."I'll take mine. It has to work this time", Olivia insisted.
While Olivia went get it, Sam looked at me and asked: "How old are you?" , "almost 24", I said. He replied:"so how come you don't know how to ride a bike"? I didn't know why. How come I didn’t know how to just ride the bike?

With the third bike, and Sam riding his own bike by my side, I was a little more encouraged.Both Sam and Olivia said:" Just go... just pedal..." Well, that was what I did. I try to just look ahead, don’t worry about what people would be thinking of me on that scene and just enjoy the ride... and... It worked!! I was riding. The feeling was exactly as I remember it: Freedom and adventure, totally depending on two heels.

When I came back inside, I realized. How many things I miss doing. Things that I used to do and love doing it, but for some reason can't do it anymore or just don’t do it.

In the end, life is like the song.
It is just a ride. Don’t need to run, don’t need to hide. It will take round and round. Sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down. It is just a ride. Don’t be scared, don’t hide your eyes. It may feel so real inside. But done forget enjoy the ride.
(October, 2007)

Are you sure you want to delete this file?

As the years go by, we change our hair style, gain weight, lose weight (if you’re lucky), lose hair, get wrinkles here and there, in sum… we get old. Hopefully, we’ll also learn how to deal with the world every time better based on our experiences and on the memories that were left.
These days, I’ve been learning more than ever – usually on the hard way. Some things that I see and hear, I keep in my mind preventing me to do the same mistakes, although most of the times, I just remain on it – the same wrong sueter in a cold day, that shoe that gives me blisters… the same bad pattern of boyfriend. But as a great person told me once, I have a long life ahead of me to fix those mistakes.
Thinking about this long time to fix my mistakes and in how even after months they still hurt, I wondered: what could be more efficient ?
In times like ours, there is a way for everything - even for bad memories. Scientists recently found the hormone that regulates the storage of hard memories, like sad or stressful events. According to the study, it would be possible to erase those memories by manipulating this particular hormone.
That could take years… or decades. And some memories just shouldn’t be kept that long. I’ve found a quicker solution.
The DELETE key.
You can easily find it on your cell phone too. Because some numbers, some messages and some e-mails just bring bad memories, and sometimes is just too much.
Recently I have done a real cleaning in my memory devices.Starting with an illusion that I had about someone. I had constructed an image based in what I knew from years ago. The funny thing is that this person was exactly the same even after all this time, except for the grey hair and his new bely. But I'm changed. That file need an update, and it was just not possible. It was DELETED.
Going over my cell I realized how many cute messages I had. Things like "meeting you was the sweetest thing ever"; "Can't wait to see you again"; "You're cute too, and I can't wait to make out with you ". DELETED. It turned out this person, let's say... had to move back to Chicago, or had his cell lost, and therefore my number too. I don't know... this all sound just better than... that very handsome guy I meat at Cosi's on 14th street never called me back.
The greatest thing about the deleting process is that you open space in your memory capacity that can be use for storage problably even better files.
Now, be aware. Some other files you just can't delete. You either leave them on the Recicle Byn or the message "this file cannot be erased at this moment" pops up. It doesn't matter how many times you hit the delete key, it just doesn't go away...

how ordinary things are extraordinary things in NYC

On my first day in NYC, I was sure that I would stay longer than I had plann. I was definetelly in love with the city. My original plan of staying for 8 weeks and bone up my english was definetelly changed. Since that, almost two years now, I find ordinary things to be extraordinary in the streets of the big apple.

In the middle of the day, people go rest or eat in the various parks... They dance, make out and play as if ,at least that half hour, it was sunday. Some days you barely hear english. There are interesting people from all over the world speaking the most diverse idioms. The funny thing is that it doesn't really sound foreign. It seems that people can understand each other in NYC, even though they come from different sides of the planet.

Here, you never get bored. There is always some much going on, that even if you don't look for, you find something new to do. In fact, the best way to find cool things and cool people around the city, is not to be looking for at all. Cool thinks like line up for at least one hour on friday afternoons to get free tickets to MOMA. Cool people like the nice waitress and waiters all over.

In NYC the price to be conneted to the rest of the world is just a coffee, even though the price of the coffe is a whole meal in most other places... but it's definetelly worthed. It's definitely worthed go uptown and hang out on Central Park. Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring - the whole year there is beauty to be comtemplated and joined.

That is because the beauty of NY is not made by the extraordinary Empire State or the Brooklyn Bridge or my favorite place -the washington Park. NY's beauty is made by a lot of ordinary things. Ordinary things like the cute poems on the walls of the restrooms, the bands on the subway or to get a free popcorn bag on Times Square just because you were luck.

Who ever lives here is very luck. But even if you don't live here, you will also be luck enough to see how ordinary things are extraordinary here.