Man in kitchen - Part 1

Photosource: Somewhere off the web... PS. My sources say, it did NOT look this good.

I have a friend that one evening decided to make soup for dinner. So after work he went to the supermarket with his girlfriend and bought the ingredients he needed:
Carrots, spinach and potatoes.
Although it was his first time making soup, he decided to make up the recipe as he went along; after all how hard could it be… it was only soup, supposedly the easiest dish to make… that is besides fried eggs…
He put in potatoes, the carrots, the spinach and even though his girlfriend told him there was too much water – he decided that it wasn’t enough and put in some more.
After some time later… not sure how much…
He decided it was time to open the lid off the pressure cooker and grind the contents into something smoother… and smooth it got… a little too smooth… or rather…
Watery.
Four potatoes and ten minutes later, it becomes a little thicker… and lumpy.
I guess it would've been edible after you added salt… but no amount of salt could hide the distinct flavour of raw potatoes…

Two fried eggs later… my friend and his girlfriend contemplated on easiest form of disposing of the toxic gunk and decided that something made out of veggies with no sugar or salt is good for dogs…

My friend says it was because the soup was hot but according to his girlfriend, the dog all but gagged… she constantly pulled out her tongue as if there was a fly on her nose she was desperately trying to shake off and looked at her owners with on of those expressions that all but said
“What the hell was that!”

Something tells me that he won't be making anymore soup anytime soon even though he swears he's better at chicken soup… from what I heard, his girlfriend doesn't mind though – she says that even though he sucks at making soup, with him she doesn't go hungry…

Sleepless

Photosource: Unknown

It's 4am and I'm right in the middle of an insomnia I don't quite understand.
It's been a while since I've stared at a blank Microsoft Word Page…
Since I've felt like I have something to say.
And yet… I don't really have nothing important to say…
Nothing special to share… although there’s so much I could tell.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like time isn't whispering in my ear.
I don't feel the urge to do any of those things I should do…
It's just me and a blank page and a dictionary full of words in my head that I can't put into sentences… I'm not depressed, though I have things to be sad about.
I'm not smiling, though deep down I'm happy.
I discovered a brilliant song in one of my neighbouring blogs and I'm letting myself feel it… savour it… flow with it…
I think too much.
It feels good not to think about anything at all, to not worry about this or that…
to just be.
I contemplate fate… as a distant observer.
Instead of weighing things, I just recall them for what they are and how they happened.
The things that got me here… The things that make me what I am
And what I'm not.
The things that people do… the things that people didn't do… but wanted to.
Curious…
That nothing particular keeps me awake, but I'm not enough at peace to go to sleep.
Sometimes I think there’s a void… an empty space that can never be filled.
I can't tell you its shape or what’s missing… or what will fill it…
I don't know.
Maybe it's the weariness kicking in… Most of the times I believe that it's nothing more a fiction of my imagination, a side affect of the past that forces me to believe that something is probably wrong.
They say that the human being is unsatisfied by nature… maybe this is what it is.
Even though I want for nothing… there's nothing I need
(that is except a handsome raise in my paycheck!)
Someone once said to me that only depressed people write deep and soulful things – which explains why most poets were suicidal.
Maybe that’s the reason… the reason I can't put anything together or make any sense.
I'm too content and fulfilled to say anything meaningful.
I love that I have nothing to say… that my lips are mere servants to the lyrics I'm listening to.
I miss my little brother…
I wonder if anyone I know is up at this hour… I could think of one or two…
But I don't feel like it… talking… there’s no one I would have by my side… though there are those I sorely miss… maybe i´ll chat to just one person…
I need to get out of that place… it's making me crazy.
I want to stay here… I think I’ll go upstairs
There's magic in my bed that will offer me sleep and sugar sweet dreams…
Perhaps I’ll stay a little longer…
To ponder… about…
About why some dogs are born without tales…
Why some fairytales come true…
And some don't…
And why no one writes about the ever after…
Does it matter?
At 4:28 in the morning?
No I don't feel like opening e-mails, reading blogs, snooping in facebook or hi5… I just want to stay here and keep myself company.
Just be here and awake while the rest of the world sleeps…
Shh… I'm gossiping with angels!
The song has come to an end… let me quickly rewind it… I like this song, I think I’ll download it and add it to my I-Pod.
It’ll bring me back to this moment when I listen to it on the train… sometime between Vila Nova da Rainha and Oriente…
I’ll look outside to fields of sunflowers, to the river, past the small train station where I can imagine people dressed in olden day’s clothing, their Sunday best to catch the train to… to somewhere far! To visit someone special… to be with that person.
I’ll hear this song and remember how I feel right now…
I’ll stop thinking about something unimportant, take a deep breath and Smile.
Because I'm aloud to stop as long as I want to... even when the world is spinning at a breathless Speed.
I’ll probably give him a kiss… because I can.
And I’ll feel… something special.
Enough of this… there’s a warm body waiting to pull me close, a sigh of satisfaction to be heard and a kiss to be planted somewhere in my curly mass of hair.
The Gods must be crazy… and I like it that way.
5am.

Picture Source: Google

Last night my manageress asked me to make an important analyses.

This morning I stumbled on one of my colleagues sending my analyses to our department´s director with a few extra words and a little less signature – my signature.

I could stomp my foot, make a scene and demand justice… but since it´s Friday and our director is a big fat moron, I decided to smile instead.

Gotta have Faith

Picture Source: Jessice Galbreth

I believe:
In the improbable; In taking risks; in myself.
I don´t always get what I want
Things don´t always turn out the way i´d hoped
And yet I still believe.

If reality is what I perceive it to be then why shouldn´t I aim high?
In my opinion, i´d rather fail at something I tried doing and believed in than fail at something I expected to fail at – double disappointment!
Sure it´s hard losing grip of something you set your heart on but that´s just part of life – you can´t win them all.
And even so… I believe that all losses have their gains.
That things happen for a reason and that if you believe then all happens for the best.

Blind Optimism?
Not really…
I consider myself to be a blunt realist with a good dose of faith.

I believe that you´re a master of your own destiny but a victim of fate.
This means that you can´t always avoid what life has in store for you but that you get to choose with which attitude you choose to face it.
I believe that you get what you give.
And that if you´re a good person, good things will happen for you even if they don´t happen straight away.
If the universe is no more than energy, than the more you believe, the more it will work for you and become your perception: your reality.

Through years i´ve heard this be called a number of different things:
-self confidence
-the power of the mind
-Reiki
I call it faith. Faith in yourself and in the people around you.

“Take care when dealing with your heart. Take even greater care when dealing with other people´s hearts”

Disappointment VS Disillussionment
It´s the difference between:
“I believe that I have the capacity and deserve that Job” VS
“I will get that Job”

Faith is belief without expectation.

At times it scares me to motivate people,
Not due to dificulty in believing in them:
I believe in people´s potential.
But because not everyone easily accepts and understands the blessing of not getting what they want.
Shortly put:
I don´t want to be the catalyst of anyone´s disappointment.

Yet… I believe.
That people should believe in themselves and what they´re capable of regardless of the outcome…
That people should believe in their ability to make a difference…
And that people shouldn´t fear being disappointed.
As I told a good friend of mine recently: To fear taking risks is to fear being happy. Someday you get is right…
That is… if you believe.

My boss: The Dickhead

Picture Source: Unknown

Today is my day off.
It's one of those rare days when everything is done.
I don't have any clothes to wash or iron.
The house is clean and Kalash and I already went for our walk around the block together.
So when all is done I find myself with that much wanted time to do “my stuff”, most importantly to write in my blog…
But once I'm finally in front of an empty Microsoft Word page… I find that I have little to say… or so too much to say… or what I want to say isn't sayable…
Lately my thoughts make little sense to anyone but myself.

After catching up on my blog reading and going through some e-mails, I finally came back to the empty page and decided that I didn't necessarily have to write something spectacular… I just needed to write, to put some of my thoughts in text that I can read back to myself. So I picked one and this is what I came up with:

I hate my boss.
He’s an arrogant pompous ass that doesn't know the meaning of respect if a dictionary hit him over the head.
He takes reckless and uncalculated decisions without consulting the people that actually know… and he's destroying everything that I care about and helped build.
There, I said it:
I've never hated anyone in my life more than that moron!
And it breaks my heart to have been divided from amazing professionals that I loved working with, from being taken away from what I loved most about my job:
The people.
God, I hate him!
I watch him make stupid decisions day after day, treating people like dirt and destroying all the good things that were worked and built through the years.
Never have the quality standards been so low, never have the results been this lousy.
People are low on moral and stacked high with work.
And not the normal inflow of work, the kind of work generated when someone makes an ape decision and forces his team to work around it.
Doing something wrong is equivalent to having to do it twice.
It isn't the workflow that increased: it's the fuck ups introduced into the system!

I watch what is left of my team fall into a desperate resignation. Weak and frustrated we breathlessly attempt to hold together whatever pieces we can.
Exhausted… of trying to salvage and fix what that idiot keeps pulling apart.
There are days that I want to scream, others that I just want to cry.
I hate him.
He is the epiphany of chaos, anarchy and complete disorganisation.
The typical overconfident jackass that sucks the life of whatever good he has been given to work with.
He soils the very meaning of professionalism!

How can one man screw up so much? Destroy so much so quickly…
I guess it's just easier bringing things down than building them up…
But bullshit won't keep him up there for all eternity.
I anxiously wait for the day where he falls, gets fired or transferred or just disappears… someone wise up and kick him off this throne!

In the faces of the few good members of the team that got left behind, I see the same sadness I see in my mirror every morning.
The frustration of not being able to turn things around…
Most of all… the emptiness left behind from those that are longer there.
I miss my colleagues, the professionals that I've had an enormous pleasure working with in the last two years.
And I hate him… him and that other spineless jerk that made him king of the non-quality-sad-excuse-for-a-client-department.
Those two would be a hell of a lot more productive cleaning the rubbish from the sidewalk!

You'd think I'd feel better after venting… but in truth I my spirits are too dampened to cheer up. I long for change, for universal justice and for revival.
I hate my boss; he represents every possible selfish trait that I despise in a human being.
It's not that I don't know how to deal with assholes; I just don't want to have to!

Someday soon things will turn around, I'm waiting…

Getting Dirty!

Photosource: René Magritte

There are things in life that you don't quite picture yourself doing… and then on one Sunday afternoon you find your hands literally in the dirt and you stop to think to yourself:
“What happened?! What in the hell am I doing?”

I had one of these such moments this weekend when my man and I decided a major attempt at:
Gardening.

It started off with the fact that one of the plants on the stairs was bulging out her vase and needed a bigger one to grow. Then there was the issue of the bonsai that looked like a bush that had never seen a scissor in its life. Not forgetting of course the huge pot plant in the doorway that drank 5litres of water a day and was still thirsty….

Ecomarché – One stop shop for all your gardening needs. 20 minutes and 50 Euros later we were loaded with 10kg of dirt and tools to mess around in it with.

No instruction manual.

Not that we needed one, gardening is supposed to come as natural as having kids (or so they say – needless to say neither of us have the experience!).
So after unloading the car, we stared at our purchases wondering where the hell to start and came to the fast conclusion that:
“If it all fails, we’ll ask Grandma for replacements…”

I decided to take care of the indoor greens whilst my significant other took care of the outdoors… there’s just something about spiders that crawl onto the wall after the lawn has been mowed that gives me that weak knee feeling and for this reason, the grass doesn't fall under my job description…
You’d think that for the amount of the little suckers that hide under the green mat, mosquitos would be non existent in our area! But No! They squatter up rent-free in our grass as vegetarians!... Even the flies aren’t scared of them!
Hairless Tarantulas, that’s what they are!

Armed with repellent and the desire to work together, after three or so hours we came up with some pretty good results:

- We planted mint and parsley (none of which have shown signs of life – but hey it's only been a week!).
- We put more soil into all the vases, mixing it with the old and enforcing it with fertilizer (the commercial type, not the smelly one you were thinking of!)
- We transplanted one of the plants into a bigger vase and put one of her children into a new one (yes plants have kids; it’s the extension of the bigger plant). She's flowering for the first time I've ever seen but according to those that know her from small, it's her very first time flowering.
- We put the bonsai into a new pot (Yes moranguinho, I know I should’ve done it Spring but I'm just not the kind of woman that can wait nine months…) and we gave it a whole new make over! (No matter what you say – I didn't cut too much and she doesn't look bald!)
- We cut off old leaves and stems (Once again – I DID NOT cut off too much)
- And lastly, we removed the outside drunk from her vase and put her in the soil right next to the sprinkler…

So far… nothing's died.

Through the whole experience, I recall doing things the way I remembered my dad doing them. I cut the leaves the way my grandmother cut them and trimmed the Bonsai the way Código Verde had taught me not too long ago…
It wasn’t the planting, trimming and nursing of the plants that gave me the kicks, it was doing in teamwork and after a week, watching them grow…
As dad would say… with time, you’ll experience things a whole different way and you’ll understand them differently.

This doesn't explain however, my recent development of plant talking. Not only did I out of nowhere begin talking to them during the whole surgery:
“There now, once you're in the new vase you’ll feel a whole lot better…”
But a week after I continue with the habit of chatting to them as I climb the stairs:
“You're looking good! Just look at those two new leaves you've grown…”

If I start talking to any other objects, throw me in the loony bin!

Kalash

Photo Source: Sunshine

I love the feel of her…
The black, silky warmth that rubs up against my legs and begs for attention
She lays her head on my lap and looks up at me
Her big brown eyes are pools of tenderness
She asks for my friends and offers me her trust
I love the way she gives me all her trust
She closes her eyes as I rub her behind her ears and revels in the shared tender loving care.
To hold her is to embrace true love.
Pure…
Unselfish…
Whole…
She makes me want to be a better person.
Patient…
Trusting…
Playful…
We take care of each other, more than friends we're accomplices in the love we share for the same man.
The one that taught us to love entirely and unconditionally
She looks up to me and smile;
I so love it when she smiles and reveals the absolute joy inside sad eyes
It warms my heart and gives me the certainty that she feels what I feel
Knows what I know, reads my thoughts and shares my secrets.
She reflects them back to me each time she looks me in the eyes.

And as long as she's with me, I'm never alone.

In Comparison

Image Source: Amy Guip

There are certain pet peeves that each person hates having to confront.
I hate being lied to –
It's an insult and a waste of real time before the truth comes up.
I hate being continually interrupted –
It shows disrespect for what I have to say and provokes equal disinterest.
I hate being compared to other people.

When I was younger I hated being compared to my older cousins:
“Your cousin already knows how to make her own bed…”
“Why can't you ride your bicycle without side wheels like your cousin…”
“If so and so can do it, why can't you?”

My parents didn't realise that comparisons such as these had the opposite effect if their intent was to motivate me.
Feelings of failure and worthlessness only cause resentment.
It took me a long time to finally convince myself that the only person that I have anything to prove to is me.
The race is only with myself.
Once you've got this figured out, it becomes easier to ignore these kinds of comments be they from your friends, family or even your boss…
There's only one person's criticism that will always get you down no matter how much you fight it – your own.

Isn't it strange how you can be both your best friend and your worst enemy?
That at the same time that you pick yourself up, you bring yourself down…
That to quieten your own voice in your head is practically mission impossible.

This weekend, I faced one of the hardest comparisons I've yet had to compare myself with… the ex.
And although it seems easy enough to say “She’s the past, I'm the future” the truth is you find yourself magnifying all your flaws against her apparent perfection.
Crazy, but inevitable… because you want to measure up, because you want to be the better choice, worthy of his love.
On her territory, at an event of meaning, at a critical moment you realise that you can't compete with all the past moments they've shared.
There are just things that don't happen twice, those “first moments” that are only “first” once.
And although his friends tell you that you are the better choice, at a distance you wonder if they tell her the same.

Just as my head began to ache from the internal arguments that I repeatedly told myself were futile… I felt his hand beneath the table.
He put it in its usual place upon his leg and put his hand over it.
Even if he hadn't said a word the look in his eyes told me that he too had been taking his own measurements and was certain of the choice he’d made.
Over and over I was told in the smallest gestures that I'm the one…
It was in the way he looked at me;
The way he appreciated me from the corner of his eye;
How he held me to him on the dance floor;
It was in his kiss.

And it was his love that made all comparisons futile… because if he loves me for all that I am then it doesn't matter how I compare to anyone else.
He silenced all doubts when he said “I feel as if you were made for me.”

Plan B

Photo Source: Dan Heller

There are moments of pure ecstasy…
The ones that set you free to dream what you dare to dream without doubts…
Those in which you face the future with utter confidence..
And then suddenly…

The other moment…

Minutes before a car accident in Porto Santo, where I had my first experience (and hopefully last) with the exploding of an airbag; I had been jumping puddles in Calheta Beach with my little brother… blissfully happy.
After the accident my father turned to me and said “I knew something bad was going to happen – happiness is only momentary, something always comes along afterwards to screw it up”

It took me a while to shake those words… especially considering that happiness isn't everlasting. I came to the conclusion that neither happiness nor tragedy is everlasting… it can't rain all the time, and it isn't always raining.
However, the law of gravity states that what goes up… eventually comes down.

The other moment…
Is the feel of you coming down from the clouds… the realization that no matter how good things look, you're still on your own.
That no matter what you construct with others, plan B has always to be built on the foundation that you have to survive on your own, if all goes sour.

You can't go through life waiting for things to go wrong, and yet we live in times that force us to plan ahead for individual survival.
That’s life… That’s modern reality…

“Three men went sailing when their boats stopped in mid ocean. The negative man cried and prepared to die, the positive man sat and waited for the wind to blow again and the realist adjusted his sails…”

Even as a dreamer, I've never failed to be a realist… I can survive on my own, I dream of the day when I don't have to.

Time Warp

Photosource: Sunshine September 2006

At five you want to be big enough to dominate the jungle gym; time went by very slowly…
At fifteen you’ll be happy enough to dominate your body and mind; time just seems to stop and freeze frame…
At twenty-five you want to dominate time when you realise that there just isn't enough of it to do it all…

Have you ever felt the power of time travel? You hear that one song that takes you back to a moment fresh in your mind, so fresh you can practically touch, taste and smell the atmosphere around you…
You find yourself emotional, unstable, unsure of whether to feel what you felt then or to choose a new emotion…

Pure Emotion.

I registered on facebook.com and discovered old friends that I hadn’t spoken to in years… and face after face, name after name… it all came rushing back to me.
I felt five again as I looked for my cellphone and shifted weight from my toes to my heel and back again from the impatience suffered waiting for the other person to answer:
“Go register on facebook!” It was about the most intelligent sentence I could say.
And although my boyfriend watched me as if I'd lost all my marbles… the person on the other line knew exactly what I was feeling.

Old friends… the ones you make in Primary school. The ones that sang in the choir with you; played with you during breaks and can sing your old school anthem with you.
The ones that can literally sing back the words to the songs you knew.
The ones that know about the time you put the drawing pin under Mrs. Bolton’s chair, the ones that know the nicknames Mrs. Du Plooy gave us and the ones that still remember Mr Esterheizen´s wooden ruler and Mrs DuPlessis crooked fingers on overhead projector…
Friendship… it knows no time, no boundaries, no distance. It's like two ships that know that they'll see each other sooner or later at an unknown port.
People grow, people change and yet the friendship survives… even the weaker ones, the ones you weren’t even sure that they were your friends at all.
All it takes is that connection, that signature of someone who was witness to a moment in your life.

High school, some call it a nightmare, others call it the best years of your life… whatever you call it, it shapes you, defines you… allows your to choose the foundations of the person you want to be.
That person will change… the foundations will stay.
To reconnect with someone you knew back then is like looking at an old photograph that forces you to reflect on the things that changed you to the person you are today.
At first you see each other as you were seven years ago and then you search your brain for the words to explain that you're a different person than the one they remember…
Different, but still the same…

Sometimes you need to look back, remember who you were to understand who you are. It's in the least… emotional. I learnt from smoked mirrors not to dwell on the past, but I know it's a part of who I am. It's how you look at it that makes all the difference.
Interiorize the lessons learnt; keep the moments that made you smile and let go of all the rest…

I feel blessed, lucky to feel that connection and happy with the person I've turned out to be.

The Interview

Picture source: Unknown

You’ve been to one; you've been to them all.
One might say that one interview is pretty much the same as any other, the same questions, and the same routine:
First they ask you about yourself, what brought you here and why you applied for the job and then they try determining your personality by asking basic questions like:
“What are your best qualities; what are your weaknesses and which virtue would you say you lack the most.”
There are those that stick to the psychological approach with those questions that any veteran in interviews knows how to answer to perfection:
“Is the cup half empty or half full?”
“Would you prefer working on your own or with a team, and why?”
After you've gone through enough of these your become vaccinated to telling them what they want to hear.

I was lucky enough once in my lifetime to go through one of those interviews that caught complete interest and motivated me to me to the point of practically going on my knees and saying “Please hire me! This is what I want to be doing! Go ahead, I plead you…”
I got that job… and I wasn’t disappointed.

I didn't think I'd get that lucky again, but recently I went to another one of those interviews where I had to desperately fight the urge to chain myself to the door and say “I ain’t leaving until you tell me that I’m chosen for this position”

An hour and a half… beating all previous interview records I’d held.
He asked me the most intelligent and interesting questions that I've ever had the pleasure of asking, the kind that you don't normally ask someone you want to work FOR you.
“Think of your most difficult boss, how was it like working for him and how did you handle that?”
“What do you think are the three main mistakes being made by our company?”
“What measures would you implement to try and fix them?”
“What kind of mistakes have you made in your current job?”
“What did you learn from them?”
“Are you ambitious?”

I wouldn’t call it ambition, I call it determination and the longer I spoke to him, the more motivated and confident he got me… defining that moment when that inner voice tells you “this is where I want to be”.

Did I get the job? I don't know yet… but I’m crossing thumbs that this one’s written in my destiny.

Word from Sunshine

I guess I should apologise for haven´t writing in so long... but that would mean that I´d be sorry for the time that I´ve spent being happy and in love, therefore it wouldn´t be an honest apology.
I´m living the things worth writing about... which means I don´t always have the time to write... in my blog at least. Those who know me, know my need to write...
It´s the only way I can get my thoughts to make sense and to figure out what i´m thinking.
I can´t promise I´ll write tomorrow, but I can promise that i´ll keep writing.
All my love to those who keep reading.

Precious Illusions

Photosource: Unknown

Recently I had a conversation with my boyfriend in which I found out that a mutual friend of ours had the opinion that our relationship wouldn’t last.
The opinion in itself didn't bother me, after all, we’re all entitled to our own opinion and only time proves us right or wrong.
What did bother me, were his motives.
“She’s just not Barbie enough”
Considering some of the life decisions he makes, the comment shouldn’t surprise me, but it saddens me that someone who wants to be loved, can be so superficial.
If all a person is, is their body I imagine that the satisfaction doesn’t go beyond the orgasm and public envy.
Disappointed.
That some people can’t scratch beyond the surface.
They go through all the books with the pretty dustcovers, some barely reading them while the people around them find brilliant stories in the simple covers. Then they can’t understand why in the same library they can't find good stories themselves.
That a woman is so much more than her measurements... but you’ll only know if you bother to find out, it takes getting to know a person.

Beauty doesn't guarantee a sense of humour, creativeness, intelligence…
Beauty doesn’t guarantee joy, laughter and good discussions…
Beauty doesn’t guarantee sensuality, erotic intensity and desire…
Beauty doesn’t guarantee tenderness, thoughtfulness and comprehension…
Beauty doesn’t guarantee Love.

I know of the reasons my man stays by my side and I’m grateful our friend doesn’t understand them, it would only be one more reason for him to feel regret.
What does he see that you don't? Its best you don't know.

I find that people talk more of the person they’d like to be than of the person they really are and that potential doesn’t weigh much on the scales of today and now.
Keep trusting your eyes instead of your heart in the desert and you may never find the oasis you’re looking for.

You’re sorry and I’m sorry.

Keeping it Real

Photosource: Unknown

There are times that feel like the first time…
Like the first kiss…
The first touch…
The first “I love you”…
Moments so intense, you can’t help the nervous fluttering in your stomach.
In the candlelight you reach for him, he reaches for you.
The wild anticipation…
It turns on the heat,
It blocks off the world,
It stops time…
And at the peak of passion you hear the ripping sound of the passing of gas…

Who Farted?

The silence suddenly becomes deafening, moments before two expressions of disbelief crack themselves laughing…
These are the scenes you won’t catch in a romance…
Because intestinal relief doesn’t exist in fairy tales and reality only contemplates such truths behind closed doors.

That one simply couldn’t be blamed on the dog!
Blushing cheeks turned red and sides hurt from all the laughter…
God must’ve flipped the channel from the Romance to an instant Comedy.
Ever feel like he’s flipped the channel on you?

It was when the laughter stopped, the giggles subsided and the tears of amusement wiped away that the passionate feeling from earlier took back its place in the atmosphere…
In one long passionate kiss, the story started all over again, taking its rightful course as like all the best Romances and fairytales should...
Stay tuned for the next Chapter…

Still on Track

Photosource: Karen Levine

I’m back!

To those wondering and to those whose e-mails are either not replied or are returned with the indication of an overquota mailbox, my only excuse is:
I’ve been living the things worth writing about. And that my friends, is far more important than anything I have to write about.

During the last four weeks a million topics and ideas ran through my mind forming rough, unwritten pages that I wanted to share in this blog. But today when I finally sat down in front of my laptop, the best I could come up with was a smile.

A smile? Yeah, I find that happiness requires no description and that the best way to share it is to wear it and spread it to those around you. I’m happy, happier than I’ve been in a long time and suddenly words have lost their value to me – they’re simply not enough words to describe a life. You can tell the world about what you've done and seen and no matter how much they try to understand they'll only truly know once they've experienced it for themselves.
You find that kind of comprehension in the silence and a smile of someone who's been there.

I woke up this morning and stretched my arm to my left, in my hazy consciousness I didn't realize I was reaching for the wrong side of the bed until I felt the emptiness. The panic caused me to open my eyes in an instant search, which ended with a sigh of relief once I snuggled up to a warm body that lay to my right.

I sat on the train and watched from the window as my heart saw me off. Both dog and owner accompanied me to the train that would take me to work. My hand was still warm from his hand, my lips still tingled from his kiss and seconds after they left, I missed them already.

I was waiting for my connecting train in Oriente when a heavy burdened woman emerged from the stairs. She approached me to ask me if she was in the right place and after reassuring her, I decided to get to know her better. The two heavy suitcases on worn wheels belonged to a Brazilian immigrant who had left her country only three months before. Her name was Raquel; she had initially moved to Guarda but had decided to move to Lisbon in hopes of finding a more active lifestyle. I saw a reflection of myself in the woman before me and decided to give her some of the tips I wished someone had given me when I arrived. We became fast friends and when I left her in Entrecampos, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to share in this post…

People tell you that life is short, that it ends too soon, and yet there are those that spend their days lamenting on the past or obsessing about the future. So few people focus on the “now” on the today.
We hurry, we worry and we survive instead of living a life that passes us by too quickly.
I've stopped taking other people's advice in order to experience what I can first hand, what not too long ago I would've considered high risks, today I consider some of the best decisions I've ever made in my life…
Often they still scare me.
Because there are no guarantees.
Because the results don't only depend on me.
Because the only certainty I have is that things change.
But living in fear is not living at all and happiness is made of moments, in the morning, on the train, the fifteen minutes it takes to write a blog…
Courage isn't the absence of fear; it's what it takes to take a step in the dark knowing that there are equal chances of falling or of stepping on solid ground.
You follow your heart, you do what you can, give it your all and when you look back… you realise how happy you truly were.

Smile people – it’s more than a consequence, it’s an option.

Re-conquering Self-esteem

Photosource: Unknown

During those rare but intense conversations I’d have with my dad, he’d share words of wisdom with me. some of which I still retain in memory.
I didn’t always agree with him and it boiled blood when he’d say "One day you’ll know exactly what I mean"
Fortunately and unfortunately, in some cases he eventually made his point.
Moments where I freeze frame in time and feel that wet sinking feeling that begins with "So that’s what he was talking about!..."

No longer single, I finally realized what I loved most about my independent life.
It wasn’t the power of decision, as many may think.
The power of decision is something you forfeit and not something that can be taken away from you.
Deciding with someone is still deciding, only with compromise.
What you really lose on hooking up with someone is:
Yourself.

In the beginning it’s all good, you think to yourself "This is awesome and it’ll be great if it works out but hey I’ll survive if it doesn’t!" - No stress.
You are who you are and tough cookies for those who don’t like it! Your friends are all self chosen, your family goofs are part of the literature and your life moves exactly in the direction you want it to.
"If he wants me, he’ll have to take me as I am - you see dad! It ain’t as complicated as you made it out to be!"

Time passes, days go by and with the passing of amazing moments you lose the capacity to imagine tomorrow without him. Panic!
You suddenly begin to understand the success behind those divas that sing songs like "I can’t live, if living is without you." "There’s no living without loving you."
SCARY!
But drama aside; the real fear comes from realizing that it isn’t that you can’t imagine going back to the single life (after all, it isn’t something you haven’t done before).
The real fear is in the fact that you don’t want to imagine going on without him.
You realize that your heart’s involvement has gone beyond mild attachment to a dependency you’ve spent your whole life avoiding.

Identity crisis!

When before you were happy with whom you were and now suddenly you feel the urge to impress.
You tell yourself to relax but you want to give the best of yourself.
You love that he loves the best of you and then you worry that he’ll be disappointed if you relax.

Meeting people was easy when you didn’t care for others´ opinions;
Then suddenly you find yourself wanting the approval of his family and friends praying that they’ll agree that you’re good for him, knowing that secretly you’re being compared to the bombshell ex.

Your easygoing nature once easily forgave the small and stupid mistakes you made; now suddenly you find yourself in tears for having locked yourself out his house with no cellphone or jacket and a rottweiler that stares at you with a face that says "Now you done it! How we gonna get back in?"

You make a point of drinking more water, eating healthier and choosing your wardrobe more carefully and find that you’ve become stricter, harsher on yourself than ever before.
Your self-confidence begins to dissolve with the added pressure you force upon yourself. because you seek the approval that you imagine will make him happy; to prove that you deserve him and that you belong alongside him.
Because you love him and no, you don’t want to lose him.
He makes you happy and you make yourself miserable.
"Dad had a point! It’s complicated!"

And just when you think you’re on the brink of having on of those female nervous fits that cause you to run away from it all; you convince yourself to trust that look in his eye, believe in his words and find comfort and confidence in his embrace.
You begin to find yourself again when his mother gives you that tight and caring hug that oozes sincerity;
When you can talk to his sister without first thinking about what you’re going to say;
When one of his friends gives you a genuine smile;
When he tells you that you’re with him because he wants you with him.

To be a woman of strong character and confident personality; it is in the least disturbing to wake up one morning and be confronted with self-doubt and insecurities.
You want to make changes but you don’t want to lose yourself completely.
It took a quarter of a century for me to realize that the greatest battle I’ll ever have to fight is with myself; that there will be changes in my life that will force me to question and redefine who I am and that I’m solely responsible for the results.
The real danger isn’t what others see when they look at me, but what I see when I look in the mirror.

My father called me on my birthday and said "If only I was twenty five again! I wouldn’t have made 10% of the mistakes I made!"
I laughed and told him that he’d only make new ones.

Every year I make a point of writing down what is it that I’ve learnt in the past year and the things I want to work on... At twenty five I relearnt to love who I am and live only for the moment knowing that the most important and lifelong challenge you’ll ever have is to be yourself.:
That’s what I learnt and that’s what I’m working on.


PS. Thank-you to the friends that sing back my songs when I forget the words… you’re my angels.

Daddy: I believe you did the best you could. I don’t know if I can do better but I’m going to keep trying - I love you.

Safe In His Arms

Photosource: Unknown

Have you ever had one of those nightmares that you couldn't wake up from?

I found myself in a cold airport terminal looking out the giant windows at the white and grey airplane destined to take the people I loved away from me.
One by one, sad faces hugged me goodbye before heavily walking through the check in counter into dark corridors that took them further away from me.
There was nothing I could do as one by one, I watched them walk away.
I wept of pure anguish and frustration.
I felt alone, lost and abandoned…

When suddenly I felt someone hold me from behind and I surrendered to the warmth of his embrace… I didn't need to turn around; I already knew who was holding me…

I must’ve been crying in my sleep…
He heard me, reached out for me and instead of waking me up; he took me in his arms.
My tears and fears subsided to the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
When I opened my eyes I was exactly where I was in my dream:
Safe in his arms.

Over Inspired

Photosource: Bresson

Write Sunshine!
I'm the first to recognize that lately I've been neglecting my column… not because I've reached some kind of writer’s block: on the contraire! My problem is the fact that there's so much going through my mind that I don't know where to grab.

Write something! Anything
What? When all that matters is the sentiment and anyone that's ever been in love will know what I'm feeling.

Write about the feeling!
How? When it's so abstract that no amount of adjectives do it justice? Why attempt to explain something that needs no explanation?
More important that writing about great moments is living them but when it comes to love, the most trivial of moments gain significance and only those who have ever loved will know…

Know what?...
The security and belonging felt when he holds your hand…
The small leap of joy when his name appears on the call display…
The vibrating sound of your name on his lips…
The warmth felt from his smile…

And that's just the tip of the iceberg…
Because he’ll wait in the rain with an umbrella for you;
Get in a little later just to spend more time with you in the morning;
He’ll e-mail you in the middle of the afternoon;
He’ll drive 80km just to be with you.

And the things he says are more than just words…
It's the way he looks at you before telling you that you're beautiful;
The messages he sends you, telling you how you make him feel;
His choice of words when he introduces you to his friends;
The split second before and after he tells you that he loves you.

Moments.
Too special, too precious to attempt a description.
Intensely so that I lose my capacity of expression…
Because what comes from the heart has a universal language that is felt but not written.
It's there somewhere between my heart, my smile and the twinkle in my eye.

It Keeps Filling Up...

Photosource: Unknown

They say that there are moments your heart is so filled with love that it overflows…
He pointed to me from the crystal blue pool and although my ears couldn't hear him, my heart heard him say to the person next to him:
“There she is; that's the one…”
That was my moment.

Cupid Wins the Fight

There's only so much taunting the little guy can take!
Want to become a nun huh?
Three weeks ago in front of a Monastery the little guy hit me with every arrow he had in his bag.
Dizzy from the arrow’s poison, at first I didn't realize I got shot!
One minute I was scratching a cute rottweiler´s ears and the next moment I was scratching her owner’s ears!
Who do I want again?
I was my eyes were set on one person but now they only see another!
That's it!
Five minutes and the stubborn Taurus is going back to where he came from!
Oohhh… but that woozy feeling in my stomach…
The poison’s effect takes me over and I find myself wanting…
Nah! I can fight this… nothing that rationality can't mess up…
But then there were roses… and candles…
And a sweet surrender…

Three weeks later I'm still basking in the aftermath of defeat...

Changes

Photosource: Unknown

Sometimes things happen so fast that you find yourself miles away from where you were just days before.
Life is like that…
You find yourself walking the same dirt road for what seems like an endless voyage. Some or other voyager passes you by but the scenery seems to stay the same and you lose hope of finding anything different on your path.
You blink… sigh or close your eyes for just moments and in a flutter of eyelids you're somewhere completely new.
The sounds and smells are different… The colours are more intense…
And the more you see, the more you want to know and get to know…
The world tastes sweeter…
Your heart beats stronger…
All because there's another set of eyes reflected in the mirror that tell you that you're no longer walking alone.

He's here…
In my life and in my dreams and in my plans…
And suddenly my course takes a whole new meaning.
Because I want him here with me, because I want to be where he is
Because I want us to do it together.
And it scares me to death.
To have his heart in my hands…
To place my heart in his…
To know that there's no getting out of this unhurt.
And nothing is worth more…
And nothing else matters.

If this isn't love, I don't know what is.
I don't know where I'm going or where I want to be…
But I know who I want to be with.
I don't know how long this will last; I don't know our expiry date…
But I know that today we make each other happy.
Need I know more?

In the darkness he reaches out for me and pulls me close and I fall asleep to the sound of his heart beating.
Why suffer the anticipation when you can savour the moment instead?
I woke up this morning and he was still there…
I wasn't scared…
I didn't feel like running…
Here is where I want to be.

Shower For Two

Photosource: Unknown

One learns patience from anticipation…
To control hidden fears with a deep breath, the kind that causes you to close your eyes for the brief seconds that it takes to have your shirt lifted over your head.
Awareness…
Of the sound of hot water running, the feel of anxious flesh and the sensation of irregular breathing that gives away the uneasy expectations…

You slip past the curtain into the steam, well aware of the warm body that follows and brace yourself for that first jet of water, conscious of the eyes that watch you as you take that first plunge under the warm water…
Pulling him towards you become aware of every inch of your body… it responds… to the water, to him to the heat in a wet kiss oblivious to the stray strands of hair in between.
The water is warm… but your body still shivers deliciously and you attempt to control your desires to concentrate on the task at hand…

How does it feel?
To watch the shampoo be poured into a hand that is not your own… rubbed together with its partner which attacks your scalp with a sensual massage.
Fingers ensure that every strand of hair is soaped before rinsing it off under the warm water.

The body convokes self-control as the eyes catch a glimpse of the bath gel being poured onto the sponge…
You brace yourself for the sweet torture of being scrubbed…
At first you watch as the sponge travels down your body leaving a sweet smelling lather in its path until eventually, you close your eyes and attempt to imagine the path it will take…
It doesn't matter though… all paths feel good, all paths will take it past curves and contours before reaching your toes…
Around your toes…between your toes.

To press your soapy self against a warm body, to feel it take in a deep breath and rub itself against you… to sense the loss of control at bay and know that in front of you someone fights the same battle…
To give in… To give out…
To take longer in the shower than you normally would.

You can't help the bittersweet disappointment when all is clean and the water is turned off… you close your eyes and acknowledge the radiant energy pouring from your skin… seconds before your mind prepares you for being dried with a fluffy towel and the sweetest smile of the face of someone who wants you.

Born to be Free

Photosource: Luis Sardinha (Kalash)

I recently received one of those e-mails with a brilliant story… in short it goes as follows:

King Arthur decided to spare a young thief's life on the condition that in one year the boy would discover the answer to the following question:
“What do women really want?”
The boy traveled across the world, interviewed thousands of women and yet came home clueless. He was then advised to see the local witch, if anyone had the answer it would be her. The boy then went to the witch who agreed to give him the answer on the condition that his best friend Lancelot would marry her. Being an old, fat and ugly hag this was the biggest sacrifice the boy could ask of his best friend however in order to save his best friend's life, his friend didn't think twice in agreeing. The witch gave the boy the answer which was satisfactory to the king and the boy was saved. The answer was:
“Women want the freedom do decide”
During the wedding reception the witch horrified the guests with her rude behaviour. She ate with her hands, burped and behaved nothing like a lady should. However through the whole ceremony, her new husband was patient with her, showing no signs of repulsion.
When the wedding night came, he waited for her patiently in their bedroom. He was surprised when a beautiful and elegant woman walks in and tells him that she is his bride.
“For having been so patient with me during the ceremony, I'm going to give you the choice of having me this beautiful but only for part of the day. You must decide whether you want me beautiful during the day or during the night”
(What would your choice be?!)
Lancelot replied that she should rather choose and with that answer she replied:
“In that case I want to be beautiful for you always”
Moral of the Story: A woman transforms into whatever you treat her as.

If you believe that behaviour generates behaviour then you assume half of the responsibility of the attitude people choose to have towards you.
This works both ways.

I believe that you get back whatever you put out.

Evening Date

Photosource: Judi

I closed the door and took a deep breath.
Nervous… from anticipation… from having waited all day for that moment…
Knowing that the moment was now finally mine; my body began to relax as I took my sweet time taking my clothes off.
I unbuttoned my sweater and slowly pealed each garment off my body, piece by piece.
Time to turn on the heat…
Pausing briefly, I admired my pale skin in the mirror and decided that this summer I'd have to invest time under the sun.
Taking one last deep breath, I braced myself before surrendering entirely to the impulse…

I love taking a shower…
It's the one moment of the day I can block the world out and take full acknowledgement of myself.
The moment of the day I attend to my needs, to the cleanliness of my body… heart and soul.
To feel the warmth seep into my skin… unknotting the tension… caressing my body…
I close my eyes and feel every muscle loosen… relax… unwind…
The sweet shiver as my fingers massage my scalp…
That heavenly shampoo aroma…
Soap bubble whispers in my ears…
I take my time with the sponge, traveling down and around every contour…
Until I reach my toes… by then my body is covered in a sweet smelling lather.
I love the way my naked body feels all soaped up…
Sweet… vulnerable… all woman.
Closing my eyes… I submerge under the shower…
I love the way the water flows…
The feel of it… as it travels down my body…
It's touch… it's warm kiss…
The way it envelopes me.
And when it stops…
I love the feel of the steam rising from my body.

I write his name on misty tiles
Before wrapping myself in a big towel and drying all evidence of my affair…
drop by drop.
Until tomorrow…

The Singles

Photosource: Serija

For those of you who have never played the computer game “Singles” I recommend it! It's a game that helps you realize that it's a lot easier to get laid than to build a strong relationship.

But the game isn't what inspired this post. Correction… My inspiration didn't come from the virtual game but the daily one we all seem to be unconsciously playing.
Shooting Cupid earned me really good feedback and motivated ideas that encouraged the following post: Na pele do Outro

For those of you who can't read Portuguese; the general idea can be summarized into the following:
There are four types of single guys:

The happy bloke: Hasn't had a girlfriend in a long time but isn't particularly bothered by it considering he has a lot of other activities to fill his time with (namely work)

The desperate dude: Women immediately pick up on his desperation and send him packing. The vicious cycle continues until either he falls into another category or falls out the single category (the least frequent of results).

The unresigned: This guy is only sad because he doesn't like to be alone but he makes the effort to go out and meet new people. This guy is more selective in his choice of women.

And lastly:

The seducer: Women respond better to these guys but unfortunately he's not willing to give up his life of freedom.

I don't think I've ever bothered to catalogue the singles nor do I feel the temptation to attempt such an act… the way I see it, most singles are single because they're too busy working out their prerequisites on the partner they want than to actually bother to get to know the people around them.
It's a selfish era… so selfish that people wait want to be fought for but don't fight for that and those they care about.

What’s my excuse?
I'd say if I had to be catalogued I'd fall under the happily unresigned. On most days I'm happy on my own but there are days such as Valentine’s, engagement parties and couple’s outings that made me wish there was someone I was sharing my moments with. As I once said before, I won't settle for just anyone just to be with someone. I'd rather be alone than to be with someone who's just there for convenience’s sake.
Call me demanding, I'm only asking for what I'm able and willing to give in return and if that's asking for a lot then it's because I'm worth a lot.

From single men to single women… are there significant changes?
Instead of cataloguing women, he merely mentioned the bold and ugly. The “ugly” can always do something to their image and self-esteem (Couldn't agree with you more! As I always say; there's no such thing as ugly women… only poor women!).
The bold AKA intelligent and beautiful, have been hit on so much that they've become super selective. The shy guys don't bother to come close and the only one's who get ahead are the seducers.
My opinion to that is that a shy guy intelligent enough to make a move normally doesn't end off single. No woman wants a man that won't put in the effort to be with her; shy guys aren’t truly waiting for the woman to make the move are they?
And as for the seducers… let's just say that most women don't like to be alone, as a friend of mine once said “whilst waiting for the right one, you might as well have fun with all the wrong ones”. You'll notice that the seducer doesn’t get through the door though and that the woman will intelligently reserve that place for someone that's worth it.

It's easy to generalize but the truth is that everyone has their own reasons for being single, it's not a disease you suffer from and rather an intelligent choice for those who don't couple off just for the sake of mating, social stature or singlephobia.

Whatever you status is… make sure you feel comfortable in your own shoes; you never know when that status will change. Allow it to be a choice of fate and not one of resignation.
I'm a hopeless romantic single who's stated her case.

Golden Arrow Aim Award

Photosource: www.fireworks.com

Working in quality I've learnt an important lesson:
Don't only focus on what went wrong.
Cupid may need practice but it doesn't mean the little brat is incompetent; in some cases he can be pretty good at what he does (otherwise someone would've fired him by now!)
And this year’s Golden Arrow Aim Award goes to…

The Three Hour Drive

Worse than having Cupid fail on Valentine’s Day is the phone calls from your friends which he came through for, this call though managed to restore my faith in Cupid’s potential.
Shortly after midnight I got the call that earned the award. Not only do I consider this story to be worth the award, I'm mostly chuffed about the two people that it involved.
Cupid… you still manage to get some things right!
So what happened?
A certain someone took the day off and a three hour drive just to surprise and spend the day with his Valentine. He didn't get the roses but he scored with the following winning phrase:
“The trip down here is worth seeing the smile on your face”

Who wouldn't want to spend the special day with someone who truly wants to spend it with you?!
Someone who had a 6am shift the following morning and yet stayed until midnight.

Impressed! So much so that I couldn't resist sending Mr. Valentine a sms to inform him that he'd just gone up 50 points in my books!

While I'm the first to agree that Valentine’s has become a commercialized day and that any other day is a good day to surprise someone you love… the truth of the matter is that I agree with any excuse to create a special moment be on whichever day of the year.

I shot him again!!!

Imagesource: Unknown

On the shittiest day of the year (excuse my french), I always try to assassinate the concept with a smile and a prayer that the twenty four hours fly by in a blink…
And before all of you give me that “it’s a commercialized day, it’s a day like any other”… don’t!... It’s a damn good excuse to tell someone you love them even if they already know; to show them you care; to give wings to your imagination…
The same way Jews don’t care about Christmas, I respect those that don’t pay attention to Valentines… however, please do not try enforce your religion on those that do unless you want the same kind of results in Jerusalem!

Anyways…
Back to the start of my day…
I unfortunately didn’t wake up with the wild contagious rash that I asked for in order to skip work (one of my colleagues did though which makes me seriously worry about the angel administration upstairs… God needs to hire Quality Managers to control prayer processing – I reckon it’s become as bad as the Portuguese political system…
As I was saying; I looked out the window to a beautiful day and cursed Saint Peter for getting into the Valentine’s spirit…
Deciding that the day was much too beautiful to be moody, I decided to straighten my hair and put on a dress for the first time in seven years…
It’s not that I don’t like dresses… it’s just that I don’t like them on me…
They make me feel… girly…
Considering the option was “it’s now or never” I thought… screw it! No one’s paying attention anyway and I wore a dress for the first time since high school uniform...

Things were going great until a colleague of mine decided to show me her wedding photos...
Desperate times call for desperate measures!
I bought a slab of chocolate and all the connotations that go with it and then I bought pink daisies for the people that make my life bearable and that had the misfortune of having to put up with me through the day…
Ironically I found out that besides Valentines Day it’s also Sexual Dysfunction day… No comments!

It’s almost midnight and for the first time during today I’m feeling sad…
Someone upstairs must’ve lost the miracle request I’ve been resending all day…
In fact, they screwed up so that Cupid was downright cruel...
So I shot the bastard again this year...
It’s the yearly Valentine’s competition to see which of the two of us shoot each other first.
So far I’m undefeated, he hasn’t gotten me once!
Oh well… there’s always next year.

Midnight Walk

Photosource: Alfred Stieglitz

I recently told someone that when the sun stops shining he should dance in the rain.
The sun can't shine all the time…
Neither will the grey clouds last out forever.
Little did I know that only hours afterwards, I'd be taking my own advice.

I can't sleep.
My mind plagues me with the thoughts I avoid within dreams I can't control.
Dreams too real… too intense…
The exhausting kind.
And so I avoid closing my eyes
I avoid the place where I lay my head down to sleep
And when the time comes to climb up the stairs onto the second floor… I pump up the volume on my Ipod and we take each other for the midnight walk.

My midnight walks have become a nightly routine.
I love Lisbon at midnight…
She's like a mother that embraces her children at a vulnerable hour;
She protects the prostitute on the corner,
Kisses goodbye the faithful from the church after late mass,
She accompanies the old man walking his Great Dane…
Listens attentively to the two students discussing the abortion referendum underneath the pale light from the lamppost.
She watches the foreigner…
Walking past the gas station with the orange fluorescent lights;
The nursery school with the empty swings;
The church with the cold cement;
Macdonalds… There just seems to be one everywhere!

I contemplated my successes of the day:
Today I made someone smile…
Today I made someone laugh…
Today I made someone feel special…
Today I restored someone's faith in themselves…
I told my little brother that I loved him… I told my dad the same and sent my mom a message telling her I miss her.
Today I hugged a friend…

Tonight… I can't sleep.

Time to go… home.
With my Ipod on my left and time on my right, I turned towards the place I'd once again spend the night tossing and turning…
That's when I felt it…
It wasn't rain…
It wasn't drizzle…
It was the delicate touch of dew…
On my face, in my hair… on my lips…
Like a gentle kiss from the heavens…
The kind that causes that tingling feeling of absolute satisfaction.
Taking a deep breath and my sweet time down the road;
I once again realized that I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.

Wet and content;
I lay my head down to a peaceful sleep that lasted through to the morning.

Michael Buble - Home

Have you ever been chased by a song?
The kind you can’t get out of your head…
It enters your system in a defining moment and holds onto you long after the moment has passed.
After a period where my emotions went through a rollercoaster of confusion, I thanked the good Lord for the moment when things finally made sense and I knew exactly where I was standing, where I’d come from and where I wanted to go.
Wrapping myself in a cocoon of blankets, I looked up at the cupboard where my suitcase lies and that’s when I heard it for the first time…
That song that’s been following me for days…
The song that plays whenever I take a deep breath to quiet my spirit…
It has nothing and everything to do with me,
I catch myself singing the chorus when I’m distracted.
Somewhere in my subconscious, it speaks to me although the only words I’m able to process is:
“I want to go home… Please let me go home”

I’m neither sad nor depressed nor lonely…
It’s just the song my head…
The one that follows me wherever I go…
The song of the moment.

Girl´s Day Out

Photosource: Shannah Carromba

After a particularly rough start to the weekend, my only desire was to take the next plane to that special place in Parque Santa Catarina where I can sit and watch the ships come in.
Unfortunately, my bank account doesn't permit me that luxury and since it wasn't my week to benefit from the Euromillions, I did the next best thing…
I had a day out with the girls… (not forgetting the man)… and the bodyguard brother

There are three musts on a day out with the girls:
Loud Music
Camera and…
Spot the Cutie.

Singing in the car with your friends is one of those things in life that is almost as good as sex!... You release all the pent up stress along with all the blocked energy and evoke the freedom to let your spirit loose!

Photos are a must!
The best pictures you find in your albums are those on days that you go crazy with your friends… on days like these; your soul shines through no matter which angle you take the picture from.
I didn't forget the spare batteries this time (yeah, yeah, I know you guys are still laughing at my Portuguese pronunciation of that one)… but I need to make a mental note NOT to leave them in the car!

Spot the Cutie is game all ladies play… though it’s a lot more fun when played in a group! Normally it's a game best played discreetly... However, the challenge in playing it in a group is to take a proper look!
There were was a red jersey with a really good view from behind and a photographer whose big canon made us want to send out an S.O.S saying “I didn't read the instruction manual, won't you teach me to work this thing”.
Five minutes later the seat next to him was taken which simultaneously caused three “Awws” and one roll of the eyes followed by “women!”
We also saw a sexy convertible and a bad black bike worth noting; however those fell under the: “I'm not looking at you, I'm looking at your machine” category.

As I looked through the photos I took today I recalled a recent post my cousin published about awareness… About seeing things opposed to just looking at them.
The way you see things is your exclusive choice… your responsibility…
I choose to keep looking at things sunny side up.

Still Learning

Photosource: www.fallenangel.net

I recently read a blog with a post about disappointment in which the writer started off by saying that disappointment is inevitable but that making that same mistake twice is just plain pathetic. Idiots like that should just learn… he ended off by telling them that he too was still trying…

One could be forgiven for misreading the signs, after all, not every Jerk; Asshole and Loser come with a warning.
However you have to be a real moron to trust a guy when he himself tells you: “I'm not a nice guy”
Idiots that want to believe wholeheartedly in someone's potential and the best they have to give really should live in another dimension:

Those talks and smiles weren’t attempts to be “nice”, it was the tactic to screw you over… there are idiots who fall for this time and again.
There's no such thing as “nice” in 2007, it’s an outdated word from the past substituted with the modern reality called “convenience”.

Hope is hard to kill…I wish the bitch would just die!
Everybody’s gotta learn sometime right?
That's what us idiots hang on to.

Getting a Grip

Photosource: Betsy Cameron

Beware the fury of the patient woman. – Confucius -

I don’t consider myself to be the most patient person in the world, but when it comes to work I manage to exercise a great amount of patience and calm that often surprises even me.
Pressure, stress… I can handle it well; but injustice is something that will have me climbing walls!
Usually a quick run to the 11th floor and back manages to cool me off, by the time I´m back down on the 3rd floor things are normally in neutral perspective…
But today… none of that helped.
No amount of breathing or thoughts of Zen helped;
I lost my temper!

I lost it and then I felt guilty for losing it…
Then I felt irritated that I felt guilty for rightfully losing it…
Then I once again felt guilty for losing it and for getting irritated, even more irritated for letting it affect me that much…
My sharp remarks and foul mood was felt all day and I finally got the courage to tell a certain account manageress to take a Xanax and relax (Portuguese version of Prozac)
(I’ll admit… that one felt good!)
I felt guilty for the things I said; I felt guilty for the things I didn’t say
I spent the rest of the day miserable.

Knowing you did the right thing doesn’t always console your conscience.

Often in my life I wish I reacted or done things differently but I comfort myself with the fact that in each and every one of those times, I did the best I know how.
This knowledge was doing very little to lighten my spirits and by the end of the night I felt exhausted from the instability I’d created in my mind due to contradictory thoughts.

The touch of a warm hand on my shoulder and the smile of a friendly face at the end of the night is what finally brought me peace of mind.
Without me having to say a word, the person deciphered the inner conflict projected on my face and took the initiative of sharing an opinion and encouraging the basis of my actions.
There’s incalculable power in the understanding of another person.
Even if that person hadn’t agreed with me, the fact that we both came to the conclusion that I’d done the best that I could was the relief I’d been searching for all day…
No amount of stair climbing could’ve had the same effect.

I’m blessed.
Even though I live in one of the most selfish and self-centered eras and cities I still manage to meet and befriend the most amazing people.
Special people that touch your heart in ways you never expected and give meaning to your existence.
People that with the smallest word of understanding, rescue you from yourself.
I’m deeply grateful for that smallest touch that reminded me that we’re all part of something bigger than we are.

I can’t promise perfect decisions, but I can promise the best ones that I’m capable of… and that’s enough to make me worthy of the position I earned.

Obrigada

Moonlight Confessions

Picturesource: Unknown

I stare at a full moon and ponder the thoughts that keep me awake…
I recall that most of the past moments in which I contemplated the moon this full were restless… unstable and often intense.
Tonight I don't feel any of those things…
I stare at an empty sky where the moon stares back at me on his lonesome and I couldn't be calmer.
Tonight Sunshine and Moonlight keep each other company.

I could swear the moon is smiling at me!
I smile back.

The alchemist came past me today and blew me with a handful of magical sands.
Time stood still and I was permitted to play in my dreams.
He led me through a diamond sky to a calm lake lit to life by the full moon.
Removing the clothes bound to my body, I slid into the cool waters of the lake and let go…
I let go of my thoughts…
Set free my mind, my heart and my spirit.
And as I did so…I smiled and giggled and loved wholeheartedly.
The moment is mine.
I floated upon the water and whispered my secrets to the moon.
He smiled knowingly as he listened carefully to my confessions and to my hearts deepest desires… recording each word to play back to me on another night.

I stepped out the lake and began combing my hair when I noticed the reflection.
At first I thought the moon was merely dancing upon the water,
Enchanted, I was drawn by the magical reflections until I realized that I was staring at a face that wasn't my own.
When I asked the moon why this was so, he answered:
“Only those that do not love see their own reflection”

A woman's heart is as wide and as deep as the ocean…
A lifetime isn't enough to discover all its secrets.
The moon knows… but the moon will never tell.

I left a kiss on the pale face of the full moon and bid him sweet dreams.
He enveloped me in pale light where I slept until the morning.
Morning awaits me as so does the alchemist to take me back to my bed where my body awaits to be stretched.
As my eyes flutter open, they're accompanied by a smile from an evening well spent.

If Sunshine had it her way, every night would be a full moon.