So here is something different. For once I won't share one of my crazy/hilarious/embarrassing/touching/intimate/funny/insane/wild/boring stories on being a teacher.
This once I will share the reality of finally being able to accomplish a dream which became a reality at the beginning of this year. This dream? The opening of my company. It started at the beginning of this year and every day it has grown more and more making my heart burst with joy and gratitude on how wonderful life is and all the gifts we receive through it. Despite it having been something which took a lot of work, investment, time and effort - thanks to the joint partnership with my family - our family business has been helping many people who need English in their lives to be able to achieve it by being part of something that is not only a company - but a whole lot more - a group with a goal: HELP EVERYONE REACH THEIR OWN GOALS!!!
Take a look and get to know a little bit more about it :D McHale's Inglês Particular
Welcome to my life!!!
sexta-feira, 6 de abril de 2012
domingo, 4 de março de 2012
The Bare Bottomed Woman
Yep, it has been ages since I have last written something in this blog of mine. So long that I had almost forgotten that I had it. And then something happened. I started noticing that I got a LOT of visitors reading my stories, writing me about how good they were, how much they would make them laugh, how I had a "talent" in writing (though I still dont entirely believe them, but okay, still feels good to hear it!) and so I thought: "Well, if it makes that many people happy, have a good time and enjoy themselves and if writing silly true stories of my life helps me kick off some of my stress, cut back a bit from my workaholic hours and make me do something I enjoy so very much doing, why not?!" And so that is what made me go back to writing this blog: YOU! Yes, every one of you who have asked me to go back to writing, everyone that has visited and read my corny and foolish stories, who has complimented and urged me onward - you are what forced me out of my lazy bottom and made me come back to once again writing yet another true story of my life as...yes, a private English teacher! :D This story is the following. I have three students: Luiz (a young handsome 28 year old guy), Maria (Luiz's mother which is a complete Madam!) and Túlio (Madame Maria's younger brother, a total whiz that knows perfectly how to get on my nerves without even trying!). These three students are quite the trio and harder than having to make sure they learn English is having to deal with their moods, tantrums, personalities an idiosyncrasies. But it is all good as they do pay me VERY well and are always sweet, kind and trying to please their "crazy teacher". So we love each other and deal with each other.
One night I arrive at their home ready to give them class:
Madame Maria: Teacherrrrr!!! You look B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L!!! Guess what? You will get paid to do absolutely nothing today, all you have to do is entertain us! hahahaha
"Entertain you...wow! Isn't that what I do every single class? I think I would rather just give an English class instead..." I think to myself
Me: WOW! Look at that! And why is that so?
Luiz: Yeah teacher, my mother is going to make me loose my class.
Madame Maria: Oh son, you know it is not my fault!
While I stood there not understanding a thing, Túlio arrives hand in hand with what I noticed would have been a short woman if it weren't for the absurdly high florescent orange stiletto heels she was wearing.
Túlio: Good evening Teacher! Meet my sister, Paula.
Paula, besides from seeming tall (even though she was short) was a woman of about 40 some years of age. Botox, plastic surgery, layers of bright makeup, bright red dyed hair and a icny, wincy tiny white dress held all her fat in once place. I could only imagine the zipper popping open and everything that was held so well inside that tiny piece of material flopping and sagging all over and about.
Paula: Call me Muse! I am a Muse! Hahahahha... and off she went laughing about her own joke.
Me: Ha. Ha. Ha. I tried joining in her laughter but not much left my throat.
Five minutes into a conversation with the Muse and the only thought that came to my head was that she must have been poor and won the lottery a week ago. Seriously (though I know it isn't so and it was really nothing more than a thought). The reason for this thought? Well, that is easy. The woman only knew how to talk about herself and her possessions. She told me about her house in Manaus (where she lives with her husband) and how it had a disco inside of it, sauna, ginormous pool, garden and even a helicopter parked right in it for whenever she needed to come and go at a moments notice. From there she went on to her photographer - which she mentioned loud and clear is the very same one as Ivete Sangalo's - and all the magnificent parties she hosts for her guests in many special occasions.
"Well at least she is the one doing the entertaining...I mean, I sure wouldn't want to have to entertain her! My bus ride stories wouldn't make enough of an impact I guess. "
Muse: Sooo...as I was saying...
The Muse broke my train of thought and once again there I was hearing her incessant blabber. Just that this time it got to be more than just blabber. She brought us all a grand surprise, There in the living room was me, Madame Maria, Madame Maria's spirited daughter Francia, Túlio's girlfriend Glesse, Luiz's perfect naive little girlfriend Monique, the family's old time maid Marisa and the old cook (whose name I don't remember) and of course, The Muse. The men kept to themselves at the balcony, drinking and eating shrimp.
Muse: Sooo as I was saying, I was getting ready to come here and was getting dressed up as I wanted to look beautiful and my very best so all of you could envy my great looks while my darling husband was calling out to me "Honey, get ready soon we are going to get late for our flight" and you see he pressured me so much but so much that look... she turned around so that she stood backwards to all of us women, pulled up her white micro dress up until her hips and declared to us: I FORGOT MY PANTIES!!!
And there it was, her bare bottom for all to see. A bottom straight in our faces! Monique jumped up in surprise almost falling off her chair, Madame Maria could only cover her mouth in a very lady like attitude of shock, Francia screamed out loud: "AUNTIEEE!!!" and I couldn't help but scream and crack up at the same time at what I had just seen.
If that wasn't bad enough she then still had the delight of adding extra momentum to her porn show by slapping it and saying in a shrilly voice: "Look how nice and firm it is!"
By this time all of us women were laughing and screaming out loud in total horror, shock and surprise!
In that split second the only thing I knew for sure is that richness cant heal you from mental illness... oh, and that I would be having a nightmare that night for sure!
terça-feira, 27 de setembro de 2011
Meu Primeiro Encontro Fracassado!!!
Entao ta. Aqui estou eu dirigindo na Holly (o nome do meu carro – sim, ate meu carro tem nome!) meus cabelos esvoaçantes sendo levados pelo vento e Paula Fernandes no volume maximo! Sinal vermelho. Freios e carro parado. Musica continua e eu bombando no meu carro: “Ieee i éééé...ieee ie éééééé... Iééééééééééé...vai se entregar pra mim!”
No movimento de puxar meu cabelo fora do meu rosto vejo ele. Ou mais, vejo o Corolla novinho em folha em que ele esta sentado. Bonito, eim! Ihh e ele ja tava olhando pra mim. Eu volto a olhar na direção dele e ele…ainda olhando. Dou uma espiadinha no gato novamente e la ele está…novamente me olhando – bem nessa hora ja chamaria de encarando!
Sinal verde. Engato na primeira, passo pra segunda, acelero ate chegar na quarta e novamente meus cabelos esvoaçantes estão sendo levados pelo vento. E Corolla gato...quer dizer o gato no Corolla comeca a dirigir do meu lado. Nem um pouco mais na frente, nem um pouco mais atrás. E a louca (sim, eu!) vou na dele mal acreditando que eu realmente estou fazendo isso. Juntinhos dirigimos lado a lado: passamos Siara Hall, a UNIFOR, o viaduto, Shopping Iguatemi e ai estamos: Meu Fiat Uno Vivace e o Corolla dele lado a lado no sinal.
Mas ele já não olha mais para mim. Escreve algo num papel e me pede pra abaixar minha janela. Abaixo. O sinal abre e la vai ele na maior manobra pra conseguir dirigir, me passar o bendito papel e claro ainda manter o sorriso charmosinho. Eu com meu mês e meia de carteira de motorista (e três batidas no carro também!) cloquei todo cuidado a popa e estiquei o braço até conseguir arrancar o papelzinho da mão dele – nossa, o que nao fazemos pelo amor, nao é?! Olho o papelzinho e exatamente como eu esperava está o nome do gato do Corolla com dois números telefônicos e a seguinte mensagenzinha: “Me ligue pra eu guardar teu numero!” O nome do gato: Sidmar! Infelizmente ao ler o nome dele a primeira visao que me veio a mente foi aquele bicho preguiça do filme “Era do Gelo”, o Sid. Bem okay, eu nao ia deixar um bendito filme pra criancas da faixa etária de cinco a dez anos estragar a perfeita aventura romântica que estava vivenciando nesse momento. Nome é de menos, nao é?!
Ligo pra ele. Opa voz bonita...ganhou pontinhos :) Claro que a primeira pergunta que ele me faz é se sou daqui (gente, serio mesmo, meu sotaque é assim tããooo ruim assim?!), respondo que não, dou minha risada bonitinha e explico que meu sotaque tem a ver com eu falar praticamente só Inglês. Ele me diz que morou na Espanha por seis mêses e engatamos no Espanhol. Assim, mão no volante, pescoço no celular e minha mente fazendo todo aquele esforço de lembrar o Espanhol que não tenho praticado há séculos! arrrggggg...
Ele sinaliza que vai parar o carro. Vou na dele. Na hora nem penso no que tou fazendo so sei que me sinto como a Audrey Hepburn deveria ter se sentido quando ela atuava naqueles filmezinhos preto e branco em que todo e todos terminam "felizes para sempre".
Bem infelizmente o sentimento durou pouco porque foi só ele sair do carro que já percebi que essa felicidade não ia ser tanto quanto achei que fosse ser. A razão? As benditas orelhas dele! SIM - NO KIDDING! Realmente, o cara na minha frente era um gatito, bonito com o sorriso cativante mas mesmo com tantas qualidades não tinha como não reparar aquelas orelhas dele. Se o nome dele me lembrou do Sid do "Era do Gelo" as orelhas dele me lembravam do elefantezinho "Dumbo"!!!
Mas resolvi deixar isso pra la. Para tudo há uma solução e nada como uma boa cirugia plástica pra deixar o cara na minha frente parecendo como um principe encantado e tirar de uma vez por todas a imagem de um macaquinho que não saia da minha mente.
Conversamos um pouco mas como eu já tava atrasada pra minha aula o breve encontro não durou mais do que cinco minutos terminando com ele dizendo que iria me ligar pra combinarmos alguma coisa.
E não foi que ligou mesmo?!!! Tipo assim eu não sou o tipo de garota que fica esperando o celular dar aquela vibradinha básica e a músiquinha personalizada pros paqueras começar a tocar. Nem de ficar angustiada esperando o cara mandar mensagem. Então foi até meio que surpresa quando no próximo dia o macaquinho me liga. Como tava no meio de uma aula disse que não podia falar naquele mesmo momento mas que retornava em alguns minutos. Não deu mais de 20 minutos e como eu não tinha retornado a ligação ele la toca meu celular novamente já sabendo que deve ser ele mesmo.
Mais ou menos como nossa conversa foi:
- Oi tudo bem? Desculpa que não te retornei...a aula ainda não terminou. Faltava ainda uns dez minutos.
- Ah tah... pois é...eu queria ver de nos encontrarmos para nos conhecermos melhor...
- Okay pode ser.
- Pode ser hoje?
- Sim pode sim. Sabado é o melhor dia pra mim mesmo e não planejei nada mesmo pra hoje a noite.
- Ah tah...
Silêncio. And Christy saves the day...
- Então...você tem algum lugar que você acha bom de nos encontrarmos?
- Ahhh...não sei. Esperava que talvez você me disesse aonde gostaria de ir.
- Ããããmmm...bem eu sou vegetariana então pra mim qualquer lugar que tiver uma salada boa está legal pra mim. Que tal o "Coco Bambu"? Eu gosto das saladas la. São ótimas.
Silence. Again, Christy saves the day...
- Ah sim, O que você acha de irmos em um só carro?
Nessa ele foi rápido em responder: - Não, não vamos nos encontrar la mesmo. Vamos então pro "Fogão a Lenha" okay?
Vou ser sincera, sincera mesmo. Acho que o homem na hora de conquistar a mulher tem que fazer tudo no seu alcançe para impressionar e agradar a mulher. Mesmo que ele seja um tarado e só queira levar-la pra cama ele ainda tem que fazer a parte dele em se mostrar de fofo e ceder as vontades dele pra fazer la feliz. Todo homem esperto sabe que uma mulher só vai se entregar aos caprichos dele depois que ele se entregar aos dela. Se o macaquinho fosse um pouco mais esperto ele aceitaria - não na verdade ele pediria - pra irmos em um só carro, e claro ele toparia em ir ao Coco Bambu. Mas não foi tão fácil assim...
- Umm...na verdade nem sei onde "Fogão a Lenha" fica. Sabe minha última aula termina quase as nove e é bem perto do Coco Bambu do Beira Mar. Teria como irmos prá la porque já conheço bem o caminho e não tem chance de eu me perder e chego rapidinho já que o meu aluno é bem do lado (sem falar que "Fogão a Lenha" não é lugar que se leve uma garota em um primeiro encontro, e sim pra almoçar algum dia em que você está com pressa sozinho!).
Silencio. No, this time I did not come to save the day!!!
- Okay. Certo então. Mas não sei como chegar lá. (Nessa hora deu vontade de gritar: PROCURE NO GOOGLE MAPS!!!)
Sabia que era só manha porque ele não tava afim de ir pro Coco Bambu. Porque? Não conseguia nem imaginar o motivo e minha cabeça também não tava nem um pouco a fim de tentar.
Ligação finalmente finalizada, local escolhido e eu com aquela dúvida atrás da orelha... mas fazer o que? Já tinha entrado nessa então o jeito era ir até o fim. Sem dizer que não podia ser coincidência eu ter-lô encontrado naquela tal adventura romântica o dia anterior...nossa ainda tava com gostinho na boca daquela adrenalina!!!
Sempre deixo no carro uma bolsa com alguns "essências" e aquela noite foram eles que salvaram minha noite - se não eu não teria outra escolha a não ser aparecer de vestido social e sapatilhas a caráter. Ao invés tirei da bolsa um vestidinho de seda preta, aquele salto que valoriza as pernas, e a bolsa toda de maquiágem!!! Sem mentira nenhuma assim que coloquei o carro dentro do estacionamento ele me ligou dizendo que já tinha chegado. Menti que estava quase chegando, subi as janelas fumê e em dez minutos troquei de roupa, passei maquiágem, borrifei um perfuminho, calçei as sandalias e arrumei o cabelo. Violá!
Me encontrei com ele na entrada do restaurante e novamente não teve como NÃO perceber aquelas orelhas dele. Desse momento em diante minha linda adventura romântica começou a se transformar no primeiro encontro mais estranho e louco que já tive.
Adivinha quem decidiu onde iriamos sentar? Quem pediu o garçom para nos arranjar uma mesa? Quem guiou o gato até a mesa? EU!!!
Dai você jura que o coitado é um CDF timido que não tem idéia o que fazer num primeiro encontro, ne? ERRADO! (bem tirando o fato que ele realmente não sabia o que fazer em um encontro!) Assim que sentamos na mesa e o garçom trouxe o cardápio ele logo foi pedindo por uma garrafa de água de coco. E onde está a parte em que o cara te olha e diz "Minha linda, você vai beber o que?" Com certeza ele pulou essa parte.
O momento crítico segui logo após:
Macaquinho (não sei porque mas esse nome colou!): Como você tava dando aula e acabamos marcando tão tarde o nosso encontro eu sai de casa mais cedo e acabei jantando, comi caranguejo. Como se diz caranguejo em Inglês mesmo? Por isso não tou com fome e nem vou comer nada.
Nessa hora deu vontade de me levantar e sair correndo. Minto. Deu vontade de pedir o prato mais gostoso e caro do restaurante inteiro e ver ele com água na boca enquanto eu devorava tudo na sua frente. Que retardado!!! Se ele ia jantar sozinho qual era a dele de me chamar pra jantar mesmo então?!!! Se esse era o caso podia ter me chamado pra um bar, sei lah qualquer coisa! Mas naquela hora so podia pensar que ele era um baita de um pobretão que tava sem um tostão nem pra gastar num jantar. Saiiiiiiii!!! Claro que não cai na dele de economizar - ainda mais que minha barriga tava se contorcendo de tanta fome - e respondi com muito gusto:
- Não tem problema! Como por nós dois!!!
Descobri que o Sidmar tinha 27 anos, era advogado, morava em um apartamento com sua irmã num excelente bairro de Fortaleza e que tinha feito um intercâmbio de seis meses na Espanhã - só não consegui descobrir qual era a dele e como ele conseguia agir como um robozinho!
Vou dizer algo! Nós mulheres sabemos que quando o homem pega na nossa mão, passa a mão no nosso cabelo, olha nos nossos olhos com aquele olhar de apaixonado e diz: "Nossa, você é tão linda!" ou "Pensei muito em você ontém. Tava louco pra te conhecer melhor!" é tudo baboseira. Mentira. Parte da cartilha deles. Nem uma palavra é verdade...MAS isso faz parte do jogo da sedução (deles te seduzirem e depois te levarem pra cama claro!), isso tem que existir para que o encontro siga pra frente e isso serve pra mostrar a garota que o cara se interessa nela e então é isso o que você espera do gato num primeiro encontro: sentados lado a lado em um restaurante calmo, a luz do luar.
Como acredito que já da pra adivinhar, Macaquinho não deve ter lido esse manual porque ele não fez NADA do acima. Nem se aproximou de mim, não me elogiou, não falou do nosso belo encontro o dia anterior - NADA! Ficou sentado igual uma estatua e conversamos sobre...sim, TRABALHO! Trabalho, estudos, só coisa chata... nossa como queria estar dentro do Amicis nessa hora sambando até minha blusa estar molhada de suor, não ter que dar a mínima pra ninguém e me divertir até não aguentar mais.
Maaas....la estava eu desperdiçando toda minha boa compania, sorrisos e simpatia num coitado de um cara sem um pingo de atitude! Até que enfim minha bendita noite estava chegando a um fim e minha bunda não via a hora de sair daquela cadeira e ser transferida pro banco da Holly (meu lindo carro) porque já não tava aguentando mais tanto era a puberdade na cabeça dele. E assim, nem era o que ele fazia de errado - era o que ele NÃO fazia!
Ja na saída do restaurante eu acho que ele deve ter se tocado que pagou a conta de um jantar (uma salada pra ser exata!) e que nem um beijinho consegiu; então juntou a coragem do ano todo e estendeu a mão pra tocar no meu cabelo/orelha e me deu a cantada mais honestamente tosca que já recebi na minha vida: "Não está usando brinco hoje, não?"
O GRANDE erro do macaquinho era que no dia anterior em que nos conhecemos eu também não estava usando brinco. Pela minha cara acho que ele entendeu que tinha dito merda porque tentou disfarçar gaguejando e dizendo em cima: "Quer dizer, você não usa brinco?"
Nessa hora fiz de tudo pra me conter pra não cair na gargalhada e graças a Deus o manobrista chegou no mesmo instânte com a chave do meu carro na meu. Nem respondi a última (e única!) investida do Sidmar. So sorri e apertei a mão dele deixando ele com um rosto pasmo destacando ainda mais aquelas suas orelhas enquanto eu me dirigia a minha querida Holly o mais rápido possível sem ao menos olhar pra trás - vai ver que quem sabe o caranguejo ja foi digerido e bate aquela fome novamente? Dúvido mas também nem pensava em arriscar!
Cinco minutos mais tarde entrei num post, abaixei as janelas e pedi ao frentista para abastecer a Holly. Não sei o que deu em mim mas assim que fiz isso bateu uma crise de riso loucaaaaaaaaaa demais! Só de apertar o botão "replay" no que tinha acabado de acontecer me deu uma vontade louca de rir. E pode ter certeza que ri; ri e ri demaissssssss!!!
Se por mais nada pelo menos aquele primeiro encontro serviu de algo: uma bela e boa risada e uma ótima história para contar!
Vou ser sincera, sincera mesmo. Acho que o homem na hora de conquistar a mulher tem que fazer tudo no seu alcançe para impressionar e agradar a mulher. Mesmo que ele seja um tarado e só queira levar-la pra cama ele ainda tem que fazer a parte dele em se mostrar de fofo e ceder as vontades dele pra fazer la feliz. Todo homem esperto sabe que uma mulher só vai se entregar aos caprichos dele depois que ele se entregar aos dela. Se o macaquinho fosse um pouco mais esperto ele aceitaria - não na verdade ele pediria - pra irmos em um só carro, e claro ele toparia em ir ao Coco Bambu. Mas não foi tão fácil assim...
- Umm...na verdade nem sei onde "Fogão a Lenha" fica. Sabe minha última aula termina quase as nove e é bem perto do Coco Bambu do Beira Mar. Teria como irmos prá la porque já conheço bem o caminho e não tem chance de eu me perder e chego rapidinho já que o meu aluno é bem do lado (sem falar que "Fogão a Lenha" não é lugar que se leve uma garota em um primeiro encontro, e sim pra almoçar algum dia em que você está com pressa sozinho!).
Silencio. No, this time I did not come to save the day!!!
- Okay. Certo então. Mas não sei como chegar lá. (Nessa hora deu vontade de gritar: PROCURE NO GOOGLE MAPS!!!)
Sabia que era só manha porque ele não tava afim de ir pro Coco Bambu. Porque? Não conseguia nem imaginar o motivo e minha cabeça também não tava nem um pouco a fim de tentar.
Ligação finalmente finalizada, local escolhido e eu com aquela dúvida atrás da orelha... mas fazer o que? Já tinha entrado nessa então o jeito era ir até o fim. Sem dizer que não podia ser coincidência eu ter-lô encontrado naquela tal adventura romântica o dia anterior...nossa ainda tava com gostinho na boca daquela adrenalina!!!
Sempre deixo no carro uma bolsa com alguns "essências" e aquela noite foram eles que salvaram minha noite - se não eu não teria outra escolha a não ser aparecer de vestido social e sapatilhas a caráter. Ao invés tirei da bolsa um vestidinho de seda preta, aquele salto que valoriza as pernas, e a bolsa toda de maquiágem!!! Sem mentira nenhuma assim que coloquei o carro dentro do estacionamento ele me ligou dizendo que já tinha chegado. Menti que estava quase chegando, subi as janelas fumê e em dez minutos troquei de roupa, passei maquiágem, borrifei um perfuminho, calçei as sandalias e arrumei o cabelo. Violá!
Me encontrei com ele na entrada do restaurante e novamente não teve como NÃO perceber aquelas orelhas dele. Desse momento em diante minha linda adventura romântica começou a se transformar no primeiro encontro mais estranho e louco que já tive.
Adivinha quem decidiu onde iriamos sentar? Quem pediu o garçom para nos arranjar uma mesa? Quem guiou o gato até a mesa? EU!!!
Dai você jura que o coitado é um CDF timido que não tem idéia o que fazer num primeiro encontro, ne? ERRADO! (bem tirando o fato que ele realmente não sabia o que fazer em um encontro!) Assim que sentamos na mesa e o garçom trouxe o cardápio ele logo foi pedindo por uma garrafa de água de coco. E onde está a parte em que o cara te olha e diz "Minha linda, você vai beber o que?" Com certeza ele pulou essa parte.
O momento crítico segui logo após:
Macaquinho (não sei porque mas esse nome colou!): Como você tava dando aula e acabamos marcando tão tarde o nosso encontro eu sai de casa mais cedo e acabei jantando, comi caranguejo. Como se diz caranguejo em Inglês mesmo? Por isso não tou com fome e nem vou comer nada.
Nessa hora deu vontade de me levantar e sair correndo. Minto. Deu vontade de pedir o prato mais gostoso e caro do restaurante inteiro e ver ele com água na boca enquanto eu devorava tudo na sua frente. Que retardado!!! Se ele ia jantar sozinho qual era a dele de me chamar pra jantar mesmo então?!!! Se esse era o caso podia ter me chamado pra um bar, sei lah qualquer coisa! Mas naquela hora so podia pensar que ele era um baita de um pobretão que tava sem um tostão nem pra gastar num jantar. Saiiiiiiii!!! Claro que não cai na dele de economizar - ainda mais que minha barriga tava se contorcendo de tanta fome - e respondi com muito gusto:
- Não tem problema! Como por nós dois!!!
Descobri que o Sidmar tinha 27 anos, era advogado, morava em um apartamento com sua irmã num excelente bairro de Fortaleza e que tinha feito um intercâmbio de seis meses na Espanhã - só não consegui descobrir qual era a dele e como ele conseguia agir como um robozinho!
Vou dizer algo! Nós mulheres sabemos que quando o homem pega na nossa mão, passa a mão no nosso cabelo, olha nos nossos olhos com aquele olhar de apaixonado e diz: "Nossa, você é tão linda!" ou "Pensei muito em você ontém. Tava louco pra te conhecer melhor!" é tudo baboseira. Mentira. Parte da cartilha deles. Nem uma palavra é verdade...MAS isso faz parte do jogo da sedução (deles te seduzirem e depois te levarem pra cama claro!), isso tem que existir para que o encontro siga pra frente e isso serve pra mostrar a garota que o cara se interessa nela e então é isso o que você espera do gato num primeiro encontro: sentados lado a lado em um restaurante calmo, a luz do luar.
Como acredito que já da pra adivinhar, Macaquinho não deve ter lido esse manual porque ele não fez NADA do acima. Nem se aproximou de mim, não me elogiou, não falou do nosso belo encontro o dia anterior - NADA! Ficou sentado igual uma estatua e conversamos sobre...sim, TRABALHO! Trabalho, estudos, só coisa chata... nossa como queria estar dentro do Amicis nessa hora sambando até minha blusa estar molhada de suor, não ter que dar a mínima pra ninguém e me divertir até não aguentar mais.
Maaas....la estava eu desperdiçando toda minha boa compania, sorrisos e simpatia num coitado de um cara sem um pingo de atitude! Até que enfim minha bendita noite estava chegando a um fim e minha bunda não via a hora de sair daquela cadeira e ser transferida pro banco da Holly (meu lindo carro) porque já não tava aguentando mais tanto era a puberdade na cabeça dele. E assim, nem era o que ele fazia de errado - era o que ele NÃO fazia!
Ja na saída do restaurante eu acho que ele deve ter se tocado que pagou a conta de um jantar (uma salada pra ser exata!) e que nem um beijinho consegiu; então juntou a coragem do ano todo e estendeu a mão pra tocar no meu cabelo/orelha e me deu a cantada mais honestamente tosca que já recebi na minha vida: "Não está usando brinco hoje, não?"
O GRANDE erro do macaquinho era que no dia anterior em que nos conhecemos eu também não estava usando brinco. Pela minha cara acho que ele entendeu que tinha dito merda porque tentou disfarçar gaguejando e dizendo em cima: "Quer dizer, você não usa brinco?"
Nessa hora fiz de tudo pra me conter pra não cair na gargalhada e graças a Deus o manobrista chegou no mesmo instânte com a chave do meu carro na meu. Nem respondi a última (e única!) investida do Sidmar. So sorri e apertei a mão dele deixando ele com um rosto pasmo destacando ainda mais aquelas suas orelhas enquanto eu me dirigia a minha querida Holly o mais rápido possível sem ao menos olhar pra trás - vai ver que quem sabe o caranguejo ja foi digerido e bate aquela fome novamente? Dúvido mas também nem pensava em arriscar!
Cinco minutos mais tarde entrei num post, abaixei as janelas e pedi ao frentista para abastecer a Holly. Não sei o que deu em mim mas assim que fiz isso bateu uma crise de riso loucaaaaaaaaaa demais! Só de apertar o botão "replay" no que tinha acabado de acontecer me deu uma vontade louca de rir. E pode ter certeza que ri; ri e ri demaissssssss!!!
Se por mais nada pelo menos aquele primeiro encontro serviu de algo: uma bela e boa risada e uma ótima história para contar!
domingo, 7 de agosto de 2011
Self-Inspection
Having the desire and inspiration to write once again is great - but having time to do so is even greater yet! As always I feel like writing more than my finger can type and I bet even more than my mind can grasp and take a hold of.
I usually choose a specific subject which I will write about and focus on getting that story down on paper or on Molly's (yep, the name of my laptop!) screen. But today I decided that I don`t want to concentrate on any specific recent story, happening, student of subject. I just want to free my mind and talk about myself and my life... and this time not only my life as a teacher but as Christy - just simple, funny and somewhat crazy Christy.
The past month I decided that one thing I needed desperately to do was to find myself out. Not who others thought I was, not what my parents expected me to be, not what my friends say I am, not what my students mention when they recommend me to their workmates and colleagues, not what is posted on my Facebook profile, and not even what I believe myself to be - I wanted to explore myself and find out what made me, me.
Yes I know, it all sounds pretty deep and philosophical and even somewhat stupid and moronic. But it's what I felt I needed to do if I was to continue living the life I live today - and not go completely crazy with it at the same time. I needed to find out what really made me happy, what would trigger me to get excited and get my oh-so-many-goals done, what would cause my major dry spells (it's what I call when I get on a major low mood which seems just not to go away) and what would make me get up and get over it. Basically I wanted to inspection myself from top to bottom, inside out and upside down and all over and around. I can't say I have completely done that yet (the whole full body inspection, heh!) but I can say I started, and by starting I am already more than halfway down my path of progress.
The very first thing I found about myself is that I am a workaholic. Nope, not someone that likes working hard and enjoys putting in the hours but an actual workaholic. Someone that always has to be working so as not to go crazy. It's actually an addiction and compulsion which makes me cut out on meals and sleeping hours, forget family and friends, and constantly keep thinking how I can manage to get more work done in those stupidly short 24 hours a day.
Sunday used to be a the death for me - the day just wouldn't seem to end and as much as I wanted to cut back and relax by the end of the day I couldn't help but see myself deep cleaning my parents room, re-organizing all my English material, and cooking some elaborate dinner for my whole family - all to get my mind off the fact that wasn't "doing anything". Getting my first Sunday students was a godsend and Sunday isn't a hassle to get by through anymore because now it's just any other day; the only difference is that I get to sleep a few extra hours, do my laundry and clean my room which looks something like the survival of a tornado and volcano catastrophe.
This last Sunday as I was giving class to my student and great friend, Sandy couldn't help but spit out in her own seriously funny way: "Teacher, are you a wastebasket?" ("wastebasket"...she just loves that word! haha). It was then that I noticed that my nails were undone, my hair looked like a hay nest, I was dressed as simple as could be and there were dark eye-bags around my eyes. Yes, I exceeded myself! I was taking work to such an absurd degree that even my own personal appearance had gone down the drain and what I never thought would ever happen just had.
The good thing is that after this little incident plus this month of inward inspection of myself I was finally able to admit to myself that I am a workaholic and need some help. What kind of help, where and how I will get that help...well I don't know yet. But like I said a bit earlier, just seeing and realizing helps a great deal.
Other than being a workaholic I found out that I love being spontaneous, hate routines and robotic schedules (and people as well!) and if there isn't any new surprises in my life I'll go and find some - and if there isn't any to find I might just as well go and make some up for myself then!
What else? I'm as curious as a little girl can be; always want to know what is inside her Christmas present weeks before she can actually get to open her package. What do I do when my curiosity can stand it no longer? I research! I go on an all-out attack and tell myself that if there is something I don't understand, can't put my finger on it or it just makes my head spin I might as well cave all over and around it until I can at least find out something (or somethings) that will be enough to satiate my curiosity at least for that present moment.
Food also plays a big part in my life. In this weird way I'd say - like for example I can stay a whole day without eating because i will be so into my work and getting all the many things on my "to-do-list" done that food won't even dare to pop into my head; but then when I do want to calm down and relax the first two things that will enter my head to help me get into a relaxing mood are: reading and FOOD!!!
Think about this: Food is the greatest pleasure in life (yes I know that didn't quite sound right, but hang on there) for many simple reasons: You can do it whenever you want, as much as you want, anyplace you want, you don't have to depend on others for it as well but if you do have others while you are enjoying this pleasure all the better yet, you can do it with a little or a lot of money, anytime of the day, in any situation - and the best part of it all? you never get tired of it!
My students always crack up when I tell them: "I know why God didn't make me rich - if I had been born rich i most definitely would be obese!!!"
I once read in a book that there is one thing that every single person on Earth loves to talk about: and that is about himself/herself - and so today instead of talking about myself I have changed methods a bit and written about it. Not that I think anyone will be all that interested but hey, who cares no? At least i just did something I (and everyone else) loves doing!
domingo, 3 de julho de 2011
The Benefits of being "The Lover"!
Rascal Returns! Yes, he returns either every Tuesday or Thursday morning. Most always he is 15 minutes late, wearing his Tommy Hilfiger flip flops, sarcastic smile and flabby belly (ok, it has gotten a bit better since he started exercising sing, but still!). Whenever he enters I know I am up to hearing something I'll grimace or frown at and he most certainly is up to something.The other day in the middle of class he all of a sudden stops middway (something I already got used to...it means that he is tired of my drilling him over and over and wants to gossip, yep you heard me right - gossip!) and says:
- Hey, I haven't told you my latest yet.
- Hum...let me guess? Your latest catch?
- But of course. *smug face* Well, so don't you want to hear all about it?
- Do I have a choice? Spill it. I am your teacher, it's the least I can do for you...you know, listen to your immoral stories.
- You like hearing them!
- Hahahah, okay I must admit I do! You serve for some good entertainment...sometimes!
- Well, this girl is from my drama course.
- Ah yes...I remember you had enrolled into some drama classes. So, what about this girl?
- Cristina. She is this shortie 19 year old - you'd think she is a saint but ahhh, you have NO idea! She has a boyfriend so she is just using me for sex - A-DO-RO!!!
- Ohh wow! That must either mean that her boyfriend REALLY sucks in bed or she's pretty whorish - and well, even if her boyfriend actually does suck in bed she is still whorish in my conception. Not that that makes you innocent - it just makes two of you. You cheat on your girlfriend and she cheats on her boyfriend as well. You guys should get together, you match you know?
- Ah teacher...stop being such a party pooper. You are no fun today.
- Okay let me try this then: YAY!!! A girl that is cheating on her boyfriend with you!!! WOW, isn't that cool? All women should do that - isn't that just the best thing I have heard today!
- Be quiet and listen. Either you give me positive feedback or you stay quiet.
- Not a peep comming out of my mouth then.
- Exactly what I wanted to hear! Now I can tell my story...
- Of how you got her laid?
- What happened to the "not a peep coming out of my mouth"?
- Ah, forget that! So tell me, what trick did you use this time that I don't know about yet?
- This trick my mother taught me. My mother was born in a small countryside town quite far from Fortaleza. On Christmas it was tradition to kill a large bird to serve at Christmas Eve. Most families didn't have much money to go all the way to the city to buy a turkey or chester so this bird would do the trick. The problem is that it's flesh is very hard to chew and far from being that nice tender meat most families have at their Christmas feast. So what was the trick to make the meat softer? A few hours before killing the bird my mother would get the bird drunk - very drunk - because the alcohol relaxes the birds muscles and makes the meat tender. The drunker the better and easier it was to eat! And it's the same way with women. You see, even my mother taught me something about women. I grew up with this story in my head and as I've grown older I've applied it in my relationships with women.
- Ok! To start off girls that let themselves get drunk or even tipsy when out on a date are completely immature and must have no idea what the hell to do when out with some guy - especially on their first date. Any girl with a head would know better!
- And a girl with a head you mean you?
- Oh yes! I am definitely not putting myself with those other girls...you know, the ones that get drunk so you can get to do "the naughty" with them.
- Hahahaha...but who said they don't want to do "the naughty" as you put it as well?
- I'm fine with that...them "doing the naughty" if that's what they want to do - I'm all for sex!!! But they should do it with a clear head and because they actually want and choose to and not because they are drunk senseless out of their minds to what is going on! But then again, maybe not! It's acutally good you get them drunk Rascal, that way forget all that happened just a few hours ago and don't get traumatized with the memory for the rest of their life!!!
- Ahh, traumatized? Asking for more I'd say!
- Poor lost helpless souls! oh let me add, desperate as well!
- Lets go back to class!!! Rascal immediately opens up his book and shoves his face in it.
- Good! Lets go back to class! No more talking going on now.
But it seemed like that phrase entered one of his ears and came out another because once again, only thirty minutes later he crosses his arms and starts bitching about one of his steady "snacks" (he calls the girls he has sex with the girls he "snacks on"; I am guessing then that his girlfriend must be the "main meal").
- Hey remember that girl I told you about? Camilinha?
- Um hum... if I recall correctly she is the one that you have sex with every Wednesday afternoon?
- That's her! Well she phoned me the other day to tell me that she was starting to go out steady with some random guy. Rascal frowns.
- Well good for her! Why the frown Rascal?
- There is no frown. * He frowns even more* I just think she is being totally stupid. She has me, she has sex, I give her enough attention and freedom so she should be happy.
- Girls usually aren't like that Rascal. The female human being feels special being "unique" and her having you just for sex must not make her feel all that unique since you do you have a girlfriend over her. She is just "A Outra" (what Brazilians call "the lover").
- But there is nothing wrong being "A Outra" - there are only benefits choosing to be "A Outra".
- Oh really? Enlighten me here. Because the only benefit I can see being the lover is that at least the guy isn't lying to your face and you won't feel a complete moron when you discover your loving and faithful boyfriend has been sleeping around with some other woman. But then not all guys cheat on their girlfriends... so if that's the case I still do rather having the girlfriend title.
- That's where the problem lies teacher! That's all the girlfriend has: the title!!!
- Maybe your girlfriend yes, but I wouldn't generalize now. But you were going to tell me the benefits of being "A Outra" weren't you?
- Yes, and I still am! Now listen and learn.
- I'm all ears! :D
- Okay! Benefits of being "A Outra" (which I will from now on just call "The lover"):
- The lover has the weekends off to have fun and enjoy it with her friends since he has to stay with "the girlfriend".
- He won't ever be frugal with the lover.
- He'll always be well dressed, showered and perfumed when he's with the lover. With the girlfriend he already tends to be more laid off in his appearance.
- The lover always receives the best gifts.
- The lover is free to stay and go out with other men. She isn't bound to one guy. Hooking up and meeting other men is an option if she wishes to do so.
- He will never be "unavailable", "tired" or "not up for sex" with the lover.
- The lover doesn't have to stand his bad moods, grumpy days, anger strikes or anything of the likes. She can leave whenever she wants and it's not a big deal. They are back to speaking normally the next day.
- So in your opinion it's better to be the lover then?
- Obviously! Didn't you just listen to me listing all the great benefits of being the lover?
- I did but I still have my personal opinion as well and even after hearing all of your so called "lover benefits" I still refuse to ever be "the lover" - if nothing else I can be all that the lover is just that with a single and available guy - not with someone that is married or in a relationship. I'm a strong believer in "what goes around comes around" and I sure hope that I won't ever have a boyfriend that spends all his money, energy and good looks with "the lover". No thanks! Anyways, back to the class - you've spent more time giving me "man whore behavior" class than I have giving you English class.
But as should have been expected, half an hour later when he once again is tired of my drilling him out, he interrupts class and goes back to his immoral talks:
- Hey teacher open up my Facebook...I want to show you something.
- Opened it. What is it that you want to show me?
- Take a look at this chick!
- Ummm...she's hot. Whoa! Major big ass!!!
- Hahaha...the other day I was talking to her and I called her "my little bee".
- Because of her ass???
- Yes! Though of course when she asked me why I'd call her "my little bee" I told her it was because she is so nice and small.
- Ah, so now she goes thinking she is cute and petite because of some little nickname you gave her and yet she doesn't even think that it just might have something to do with one of her body parts?!
- Nope. Remember, not all girls have a head - like you do...
- I wish I could say I am flattered. But no, instead I have to say that all credit goes to my rascal and naughty guy students, their sad immoral stories and their wonderful advice!
- Oh, I can give you some more advice!
- Don't you worry about it! I've got more than enough advice for one day - no need for more!!!
And if all the above weren't enough, Rascal still got to send me a little "chart" he created on the male species. Here it goes: (Sorry it's in Portuguese - I might translate it soon and then I'll add to this post)
Feio | Bonito | ||
Mal Sucedido | Ignorante | Lascado | Aspirante a Gigolô |
Culto | Tendências Matrimoniais | Aspirante a Maritíssimo | |
Bem Sucedido | Ignorante | Ímã de mulheres fúteis | Super ímã de mulheres fúteis |
Culto | Costuma ser seletivo | É o cara! |
domingo, 26 de junho de 2011
PS: I Love You!!!
- Christy. And yours?
- Alissa.
- Oh, I have a friend called Alissa (I didn't - I only knew someone of that name and thought that would be a great thing to say to keep our "conversation going")
- Well, good to know! Good to know! You turned right back at the TV and continued watching whatever it was you were watching.
As if you all of a sudden decided that our conversation was worth continuing you turned around to me and said: - Well I said it's good to know because no one is called Alissa. My parents took a long time to figure out my name. I was a nameless baby my first few months alive. So it's good to know that there is at least another person with the same name as mine.
"If she says 'good to know' once again I swear that will be her new nickname!" I thought again to myself.
- Well it's a nice name anyways. A pretty name.
And that was the beginning of our friendship. Well up to that point it wasn't really a friendship because other than spending all night awake talking and making your mom come make us shut-up half a dozen times I didn't get to see you again until many years later. But there is one thing about that night that always stuck to my mind until today (10 years later!): You were a whole lot more mature than anyone your age I had ever met. And that's the way it is until today. The way you can get along with many people that are even twice your age is impressive! You can carry a conversation with a baby and make him giggle while you are at it, give the best advice ever to a friend your age or stop, listen and answer completely on the same level with someone many years older. You never had a problem relating with people no matter the difference on social status, age range, growing up environment - whatever it was, you always knew how to fit just fine into any situation you were faced with!I saw you again for the second time almost six years later. But it was brief and short and we laughed as we remembered that one night we spent together so many years ago.
And then I moved to Rio. Right next to your house. Walking distance actually. Okay, and now for the truth. When I first moved to the "Casanova/Shangri-La" Home and got to see you every here and there whenever I went over to your place for a friendly neighbor’s visit (or the other way around!) I couldn't help but think you were kind of bratty, spoiled and superficial. A kid. No big deal. It wasn't that I didn't like you, I did. But it wasn't like I was all that thrilled being around you. You were fine to be around but that was about it. And it wasn't even something conscious; it was just the way it was.
When that completely changed...well I can't say for sure when that was but one experience makes me remember how much I thanked God to have you by my side and had to actually admit to myself that it would have been twice as worse if you weren't there with me. It was our "Ilha Grande" experience. About thirty of us all went out camping to the scenic Ilha Grande - all excited and expecting the craziest, coolest, adventure-filled, camping trip. Oh we were more than mistaken!!! Pretty much everything that could have gone wrong went wrong! The weather was rainy and we couldn't do half the hikes that we had expected to do, people were cranky, the organizers were bitching about anything and everything, and because you girls were so against having to sleep with a certain someone (ahem!) I was put in the middle of the story and you girls convinced the staff to exchange "sleeping partners". I was fine with that until I found out that that meant squishing in a tiny tent with three other long-legged, squirmy, steal-your-blanket girls (or was I the one that had forgotten my blanket and decided to grab yours in the middle of the night?!). Backaches, neck aches and long sleepless nights followed making us all the more grumpy and irritable.
But then somehow we found out our own way of having fun. We dogged half the rules, broke the other half of them, held myself not to laugh when I "staff member" got corrected by another "staff member" hearing you girls giggle in the background and then bursting out in laughter as soon as it was over, peaked and spied on everyone that was worth peaking and spying on (and even on those who weren’t!) and we sang... yes we sang our hearts out!!! You played the guitar and sang me your songs and every other song that I'd request from you. And when I got tired of singing along you'd continue singing and playing every song that I'd ask you to. The last day of our little excursion on our way back to "Home sweet Home" as you played song after song to me was the day I found out that there is nothing that soothes Christy more than having Alissa play for her. Any single worry or problem that might have been in my mind just disappeared as soon as you'd start strumming your guitar - and it's that way until today as well. Nope, I don't have the "flesh and bone" Alissa but you bet I have ALL your songs - and their lyrics - so that I can sing along while I play them over and over again. I have them on my MP3 to listen on the bus (believe me it calmed me many times when I thought I was just about to cuss at some guy rubbing me the wrong way - and yes, I mean that literally! ugh!), I have them on my laptop, and of course I have them in my head memorized down to the last word to sing them in the shower (yeah, I tried other places but had some honest souls asking me to shut up...what can I do? I am not you!). What you've got Hon is an amazing talent. You have the power to reach out to souls, to make others listen to you and what you have to say independent if they want to hear it or not, you can impart your feelings and thoughts to others - be it a feeling of joy, sadness, faith, love, regret, fearlessness, freedom - you spread it to others as they listen to your amazing voice; and believe me, to be able to do that is one amazing gift you've got!!!
Back to my story... after our little "Ilha Grande" episode I all of a sudden started seeing you in a different light. I took more interest in getting to know you - the real you - what you were besides the "happy Alissa" you showed to the general public. And the more I got to know the more I wanted to be closer to you and get to share more with you, talk and confide and just be there as you started being there for me.When I went to spend those two months at your house I inwardly feared that the great friendship we had created might get a bit dull or that we might bore each other out or get to one another's nerves since I would be sleeping in your room everyday - and you know, me and you both being a bit feisty and witty might not help much... heh!

But much to the contrary. We all of a sudden just bonded even closer than ever before. My secrets became your secrets and when I woke up feeling nervous or anxious about the future it was amazing how you could just read me and know what was going on my head - and then wash it all away as you'd sing to me for hours - as long as it took for me get back on my feet again.
We confided to each other pretty much everything that used to be hidden deep inside - things we wouldn't tell a single soul. Be it guys, gossip, sour friendships, family issues, some low self-esteem deal - whatever it was there we were babbling about it for hours on end over a cup of hot tea, pajamas, a chocolate bar and then always to finish it off: Gossip Girl!!!
Sad was the day that I left your house and then soon after left to Fortaleza to give myself a breather and some time to figure out what I needed to do in my life. As all things change, I also decided to change and off came the big news that I was no longer going to stay in Rio but was now definitely staying in sunny, tropical Fortaleza.And so we made the most of our last month together. Everything we did together was like replaying all our many experiences together just that this time it was ten times better because we knew that it would all become a treasured memory.
Dress shopping for your Birthday, going to the beach together, being chased by two creeps and having make a run to spare not being robbed, stuffing ourselves up with acai and vintage muffins, losing your cell phone, movies together...and the list goes on. But the best night was the one in which we both locked ourselves inside your room and made each minute count. We exchanged gifts and you read me the nicest (and longest!) letter ever! And you cried while at it and right after I was sobbing as well. Yep, we are both two mushy gushy girls...now that's something embarrassing to say out loud...hahahahha!!! And of course I made you sing to me the song you wrote for me about half a dozen times (at least!) and we talked and talked deep into the night promising each other that distance would never ever take apart what we have - a friendship that is just ours: "Christy and Alissa style". And no, I won't even try explaining that because for some things in life an explanation is just not worth it. Our friendship being one of them - the feeling in our hearts beats any explanation.And now a little space just for you:
"Wanna take this time
Leave it all behind
Look around me and just dance
Till my shoes ask me to stop and I'll take them off and laugh
Why worry about the troubles?
Why worry about the fights?
Why worry about the present time when still have our whole lives?
Let it all hang out
Just live for now
Let your hair down and come dance.
Come rain come shine
We'll forget about time
Just close your eyes and we'll dance
I want to see the sun rise and feel the sand on my feet
Watch the colors fade in the sky and take this time to breath
Why worry about the troubles?
Why worry about the fights?
Why worry about the present time when still have our whole lives?
Let it all hang out
Just live for now
Let your hair down and come dance
Come rain come shine
We'll forget about time
Just close your eyes and we'll dance."
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