Greatest Fear Revised

Back in 2011 I blogged about my greatest fear (wow, I was already living in this house and it was also December!) and then revisited that idea/post in March 2015 when my husband's cousin's wife had a very scary brush with death.

Well... I guess my greatest fear has changed now that my sons are older and it has reverted back to what it was before I became a mother. If I die now, my sons will not only have lots of memories of me and our relationship, but they are older and while that would still be awful, they don't need me as much anymore (well, they do, but I don't feel so scared and helpless with the thought of leaving them behind).

My greatest fear has always been losing my mind, having a mental breakdown, going crazy. Whatever you wanna call it. My dad's family immediate has a history of mental-health issues. His youngest brother was schizophrenic (I pretty much told his life in my post about my "three uncles" a couple years ago) and his sisters are pretty troubled (bipolar, probably? and we don't know what the other one has).

The fact that I am not neuro-typical by having ADHD doesn't help my fear and there's something I've experienced since I was 16, which I never discussed with a mental health professional (not that I've seen one for long anyway and I was unhappy with him) -- I experience these "dream attacks" that I guess one could call "panic attacks," but not so serious (I haven't researched much about panic attacks either). I can write a post about that, exploring how and when it started (it's an interesting story) but the experience is just brief moments of feeling that I'm "living inside" my own previous dream and it's very unsettling. It's happened often enough in my life that I'm capable of weathering and brushing it off much more than I could do when I was 16.

Anyway, in days like today, when I'm extremely stressed out by all the things I desperately need to do and don't have enough time: FINISH GRADING,  it TAKES FOREVER!, The Xmas Cards have been printed and ready to go for THREE WEEKS and I haven't mailed them :-( , the house is filthy and needs cleaning, guests arrive on Sunday evening and the house needs cleaning and I need to plan food for guests while K and I go on our anniversary getaway for two nights. OH, and there's laundry to be done! (but I wish I could line dry it, but it's too cold!!) Sigh...

Yeah, not a recipe for a good place mental-health wise. Sigh...

Well, even though nobody is reading I needed the free therapy of blogging this morning to help me cope with the busy-ness. And I will constantly be praying that I won't ever lose my mind. That I will find good professionals to help me so it can be avoided. HOPEFULLY!!

P.S. it doesn't help that this presidency/regime is angering and stressing me out so much! I have a blog post in the drafts folder about the CHIP program, in addition to the net-neutrality worries.

On deciding to get chemical help

I decided to go with the blunt title. There is no other way around it. And I just realized I had also been blunt in a post title from two years and exactly ten days ago (when I answered a question from What Now?)!

When I brought up trying ADHD medication in my last check up with my family doctor (in late September? October?), I was completely taken aback by his reaction. Seriously. I have been going to this doctor for a few years, after my husband found him and liked him, and he's nice (he's got a Brazilian wife, he's gotta be nice, haha!). He's your average allopathic doctor, though,* happy to take good (traditional) care of his patients and prescribe something for their ailments. I was taken aback because he seemed "too happy," almost giddy! He took note of the fact that it took me YEARS to reach this decision (over two years after my official diagnosis) and he praised me for considering it. He shared a personal story about his pre-med classmate with ADHD who didn't believe in medication and who ended up never going to medical school even though he was very bright. The doctor's argument is that medication can to wonders for certain people, really change their lives completely. So he prescribed the lowest dose (10 mg) of the most common med for me to try and I went back in two weeks.
          * whereas I was brought up as a big believer in a wholistic approach to health involving diet, natural treatments, teas, hydrotherapy -- even though my mom took me from doctor to doctor, I need to write about my childhood doctor visits sometime! And about growing up with debilitating asthma.

It turns out that the lowest dose kept me awake late into the night and I felt that it didn't help that much. When I went to the doctor again, he prescribed a different, more expensive medication that is supposed to be better. I took that for a few weeks and didn't experience the same troubles sleeping, only felt a dry mouth, so on my third doctor's visit he upped the dose a bit (to 30 mg). That seemed to be helpful and have no side effects (other than dry mouth) for almost a month, but in the past week or so I felt that I was staying up at night again and I also felt EXTRA sleepy if I didn't take it. So yesterday I got a refill with a smaller dose (20 mg).

I'm still conflicted about taking medication. I feel that it helps me focus more, be less distracted, but I'm not being more productive (in terms of grading and other work-related things)! Perhaps I'm even worse than I've ever been -- having a horrible time working at home and only feeling motivated to do any work when I'm at the university. I do feel less overwhelmed, though. Both in crazy, loud social situations (such as a having to help and deal with a gym full of children, grandparents, and parents such as when we had the Thanksgiving banquet). My husband feels I'm calmer too, I'm not driving him and the boys crazy with my outbursts and nervousness.

As a matter of fact, it may have been a coincidence, but one one fateful day, a Friday, when I forgot to take the medication (I remembered too late in the day and if I'd taken it I wouldn't sleep) it was UTTER CHAOS. I even burned a dish in the stove, something I hadn't done in forever!! I thought it was hilarious -- kind of a reprise or a "conspiracy" of the drug companies to keep me hooked.

There, I've said it. I feel bad for becoming "chemically dependent" on this medication even though I know that the chemistry in my brain is messed up to begin with, so maybe it's a good thing to give my brain and myself (and people around me!) a break. When I first started taking the pills, I left them in the kitchen table and my youngest son saw it and recognized the name of the chemicals from events against drugs they've had in school every year. He was clearly not comfortable that I was taking "drugs" and voiced it to me, with disapproval in his eyes. I have since kept the medication in my bathroom and I think my son got used to the idea of it.

I still haven't made up my mind on whether I'll take it on a regular basis. I think it's important that I decided to give it a try. I definitely need it before trips or stressful events in which my ADHD throws me completely out of whack. Sigh... but as far as grading and preparing classes is concerned... well, I still need to find out how to become more disciplined so I can give a chance to my better focus to do any good! It doesn't help that we had this crazy election season and even crazier presidential transition -- life isn't normal life anymore and I feel that very strongly.

In any case, it feels good to finally blog about this issue and get it "off my chest." I wish Spanish Prof. could still be around so we could talk about the effects of medication. Any thoughts, friends?

(and now on to a few "fluff-filled" posts perhaps? Nah, I love fluff, but I'm generally not very light-hearted in this blog -- I wish I had a fashion/style blog to go along this more somber & serious one). ;-P

My 2016 Sountrack: Coldplay's _Ghosts Stories_

The year hasn't ended yet, but I want to record this here...

Before the holidays last year I somehow "discovered" Coldplay's sad, nostalgic, "break-up" album, Ghost Stories and I became obsessed with it (I don't know how I didn't come across it earlier -- I'm just not that much into pop music, but Colplay -- which I know some people hate -- I love!).

I really wanted to have been able to buy Target's deluxe edition album that came with three bonus tracks, but it was no longer available. (Yes, I still buy CDs on occasion, that is about to change because we've decided to get a family subscription to Google Play & I cannot believe I'm having to surrender to digital/streaming music!) :-(

So, these are my absolute favorites, although it's hard to choose:
1. "O" or "Fly On"

2. "Oceans"


3. "Always in My Head"

4. "True Love"

5. "A Star Full of Skies" (SERIOUSLY, that's what I said one day in the car to my sons, and then I followed it with "A Dream Full of Heads." They laughed and laughed at their crazy silly mama!), ooops, "Sky Full of Stars"


I'm not super crazy for Magic, Midnight & Another's Arms, but I like them OK enough to have wanted to buy the whole album. Thankfully, I've been able to listen to it offline thanks to Amazon Prime, but my son assures us that Google has way more music. I guess I need to trust what he's saying!

Back to Real Life

I realized in the past few days that one of the big reasons why I love traveling and extensive travels suit me really well is that I'm quite good at "doing nothing" at home. And when you travel you see a whole lot of amazing stuff while "doing nothing." ;-P

I know I'm terrible that way and the worst  thing is that I'm not ashamed of myself. I work because it's best to keep busy in real life and I enjoy it, I truly do, but that's it. That's why maybe I should just be a full time non tenure faculty for the red of my life. and keep doing the minimum, not the maximum I can possibly achieve (as far as sometimes useless academic research is concerned).

Ok, I got to my office, then went to a meeting and now I have to drive my 76+ miles back home & stop at multiethnic grocery stores. More later!

12 Step Program?

Warning: tons if italics and BOLD WORDs ahead! ;-) Oh, and words repeated for emphasis. ;-)

I think you could call me a shopaholic. There, I've said it. But it's "serious," this problem that I have. I'm a proud, hardened, unrepentant, "don't want to change, don't even try to convince me" second-generation shopaholic. You see, it's a genetically transmitted defect! Even my father (a MAN!!!) loves to spend time in stores and, if it's a really good bargain, to shop. Wasn't I bound to be doomed?

Problem is, I don't feel the need to change! For the most part I only buy cheap stuff. Sometimes (and here's part of the problem), really, really cheap stuff. I could never ever be the "extreme couponing" type of person. I don't have time or patience for clipping coupons. In fact, I can't stand grocery shopping and I HATE buying name-brand stuff (and virtually ALL the coupons are for name-brand, highly processed items).

So... what did daddy pass down with his genes (almost wrote jeans, hahahaha!) to me? An irresistible need to be a "bargain hunter" and, probably, a love of colorful clothing. Not that he actually wears very colorful clothes, but after he retired from being a pastor, a chaplain, and a professor for many years (but, mainly, church pastor), he ditched the dark suits and white shirts and started to wear slightly mismatched, more colorful (or at least striped or checkered) shirts. Gotta love him, he's so cute!

Clothes and shoes. These are my weaknesses. Particularly dresses. And NEVER any accessories (belts, scarves[light ones], jewelry -- I cannot bear to pay any money for these things, particularly belts). If I could afford it I'd have tons of winter hats and gloves (and even scarves), but I can't, so there you go.

Interestingly, there are items that I can't stand buying, I just do it because I have to, and even then, sometimes, I ask my mom to help me (with skin colored pantyhose, ARGH, I don't know why I hate buying it so much and almost equally, wearing it, but sometimes one has too, right?). I don't like to buy bras... (and maybe that's because I'm too skinny & they don't really fit me right).

I love pajamas and wish I'd allow myself to buy more (like I do with dresses), but there's logical reasoning about having lots of pajamas! We spend a very large portion of our lives sleeping, we might as well be dressed comfortably!

Yeah, I don't really think I have a problem, although I probably do. Sigh... My other reasoning (for buying a 9.99 or 8.99 cute dress almost every time I go to Ross) is that "I work so hard and actually make some money, I deserve this -- it is so cheap!" But, as my husband said, it's OK, as long as I donate as many dresses or clothes to other people and I promise I'm working on it!

And I think I have pretty good taste and pick very cute clothes that look good on me. I think I have my own quirky sense of fashion. Actually, for a couple of years I've been dreaming of having this little unassuming "fashion blog" on the side, but I simply don't have the time it takes to do it. Mostly because I'd need to take and post photos and that takes a long time, but also because why do it if getting people to read is nearly impossible with so many professional bloggers out there?

So, the "secret" is out. Do you have any little secrets or not-so-secret bad habits like me? I'd love to know!

Artificially Blond(ish)

This is a "hair" post. 

If you read me earlier this year, back in this January post, 
you'll know that I've got tons of  "hair issues." ;-)

I have mixed feelings about it, but I caved in got highlights again in Brazil (2 different tones).Take a look:

But now I'm having second thoughts & thinking that it's so artificial and whatnot and that I shouldn't have done it and should have remained a brunette (these are the photos of my haircut back in March that I never got around to showing you):

 One thing is certain (IMO), the highlights look best when I wear my hair blown straight and not naturally curly like below (though with the bathroom lighting, my hair-color does look OK with the curls + 7 months old highlights in this April 2011 photo):

 Unkempt Curls -- it could be worse, believe me!

 Tamed to be more photogenic:

(I took these photos to register the hair & got to show the glasses too -- remember that I was forced to wear glasses for nearly a year because of this, I couldn't me more thrilled with my lasik surgery!! :)

Oh, and BTW, my new haircut? (from the top 2 photos above) It looks positively AWFUL with curls. :( I'm not kidding! The longer tips at the front just don't go with curly!

Anyway, unlike in past years, I'm planning to redo the hightlights on a regular basis with our hairdresser from church (the one who lost her son, a senior in high school, to a motorcycle accident a month before graduation) and not let my hair grow for two years without redoing the coloring.

It's a bit sad, however, to think that with my two latest haircuts (first on my birthday in July last year, then twice earlier this year) I had gotten rid of all old color in the tips and the hair was uniformly brown. Hmmm... well, with a few white ones here & there (nothing that required the highlights to hide, so that was not my point in getting them... it's that silly childhood with to be blonde surfacing from my unconscious, ha ha ha).

One thing is very true: I never liked myself with glasses and now I don't like to see myself with curly hair. Maybe it's sad, but I think it's ok. I'm not chemically straightening my hair, just "physically" doing so with the blow drier (maybe 'cause my husband is in the latter science, not the former, there you go! ) ;)

(Up)Rooted

Slowly, very slowly... I begin to really like our new house. Not that I didn't like it before, it's just that it is hard, nearly impossible, for me to imagine how it feels like to live in a place for many many years... and I am beginning to think that maybe we will live in this house for a long time (we will? really? the skeptic in me cannot reconcile to this idea).

You see, that never really happened in my life... I've never had a "hometown," I've never known what having a family home (where you spent your childhood) to go back to feels like. A good metaphor for how  "unsettled/unsettling" my life is and has been is my "birth country" trauma, caused by the fact that I was born in a country which doesn't allow me to have its nationality.* And then there are the many times I moved (either places or from one rental house to another. Five years was the most I ever lived in one house (I did live in the city of São Paulo for 12 years, but moved a few times during this period). For my husband's family it was worse. We calculated once that in 20 years K's family had moved, I don't know, 13-15 times (including a house or apartment a year in one city).**

A few months ago I was having a hard time thinking that we had finally "settled down" somewhere, but I didn't blog about it at the time because I didn't really know how to say this (not that today I'm going to be any better). In fact, the idea of settling down sounds nearly incomprehensible to me after so many years in my life -- actually, my whole life, all 40 years of it -- moving from place to place and not knowing where I would end up. Unconsciously I keep thinking that we'll sell this house again and move elsewhere and start from scratch once more... because this is just what "normal" is in my life.

The funny thing is that when I met K, my biggest desire in life was to be able to have what I never had -- a stable place, give my children a "childhood home" and roots. However, in these 21 years together, I seem to have changed and become just like K was/is: he has always said that after the first traumatizing move he remembers in his life -- when he was 6 years old and followed by many others -- he just can't stand living in the same place for too long, that he needs new adventures. I had a hard time adapting to that kind of thinking, but when we left Brazil and moved here, I think that changed.

So... as I contemplate many years living in this area, having the boys grow up here (OK, they're pretty grown up by now, poor things, having moved a lot too), I feel torn between that old desire I had of putting down roots somewhere, and the impulse to experience new things.

Ultimately, I don't know what will happen (and sometimes I fantasize about K getting an offer to go somewhere after he gets tenure, but that's sooooo unlikely!)... so the best I can do is to enjoy this house, this region and let those roots grow... after all, we should "bloom where we're planted," right?

* I probably blogged about this before (at least in my 50 things about me posts), but if you don't know the story, I was born in Geneva, Switzerland when my dad was studying in France (right on the border) and my mom was doing an specialization at the University of Geneva. There's only one small detail... Switzerland refused to give anyone born there their citizenship... they're just "too good." As a result, I spent my whole childhood being told "Oh, you're Swiss" and replying angrily -- no, I'm not!! I'm Brazilian!" Sigh...

** Of course I know that it's even worse for "army families" because then it's around the world...

Before July's Over -- 40th B. Celebrations

I just wanted to share these pics before it's too late. I wanted to wax poetic about this watershed birthday, but the words have fled. I'm too busy to think reflectively right now... Hope you like the photos.

Mismatched candles -- the 4 is from both boy's 4th birthday, 5.5 and 3 years ago. The zero? Can't even remember. Could possibly be from my 30th? I hope not! ;) (gotta check my photo albums)

 Delicious truffle chocolate cake made by my dear friend Carolina:

The silly ancient husband o mine. Why not 740? ;)

 

Lily & Lilies -- I also wanted to write a post about why I resist reinventing myself & going by Lily instead of my name. I guess I can do it in a sentence or two: it's partly a cultural thing (in Brazil we don't use nicknames so pervasively as you do here in the U.S.) and also a conscious choice since when I was a teen I actually loved Lily. Go figure. But I still lived in Brazil then. 

So, these were blooming on my birthday (two days later in this pic). Our yard's birthday present to me! (coincidentally -- really, I was supposed to have bought mini, pastel colored calla-lilies, but the vendor didn't have them anymore -- stargazer lilies were also in my wedding bouquet -- see here).

Heartbreakingly (but Earnestly) Stubborn or "The Beans & the Dream"

Preamble
Yes, I think that the recipe post was an semi-conscious attempt to hide the very sad post, or at least to diffuse the attention, lest my shame and my sorrow, not to say whiny tone, take center stage in this blog, since that's all I can write about lately. And my worries are very real. I am worried about me too, MemeGRL (thanks for your comment, it meant a lot to me), actually, this is very selfish -- I am worried about my family, about our finantial situation, about the burden that this house is, but hopefully things will be all right. Somehow. That's not what I want to write about today, though. I just want to share a significant fact about me, one which will be the background of discussions to come.

~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~

Last August, K's family had a brief reunion (with the exception of my fourth sister-in-law who couldn't come from Brazil) for us to meet the newest grandson* and spend sometime together. *For those who don't already know, my parents-in-law have four sons and now five grandsons, we're still waiting for a girl in this family...

And in one of the late night talks that we had we settled into an interesting conversation about how, looking in retrospect, each one of us would have changed in his or her educational and/or professional life.

My MIL said she would have gone into tourism earlier, maybe getting a degree in travel & tourism or just opening her agency earlier in life. K1 (my husband) revealed that he should probably have gone into architecture since it's much more creative than what he does now and he's probably talented enough. K2 said he might have gone into medical school as he originally planned (he's a pastor now) and his wife, who has a degree in education but is switching to nursing, expressed her desire to have gone into nursing earlier, and, most importantly, to have studied English and gone to school earlier here in the U.S. (they've been here for 8 years and only now she's going to school). K3 was sleeping, but I learned many months later that he wanted to go to medical school too (I was astonished to learn that, Rene -- and, BTW, what would you have changed, do respond in the comments?). K4, the youngest, who finished his electrical engineering degree only 3 years ago said something about, I don't recall, maybe about getting an MBA. And my FIL was sleeping (as were the parents of the newborn), so we didn't get to hear his take.

Finally, it was my turn. And I, unemployed, with my recently acquired "useless" PhD still fresh in my hands, but without any future prospects and with an acute awareness of basically having "wasted" the past 10 years of my life getting this degree... I just looked down and said, meekly:

I wouldn't have changed a thing.

And I wouldn't, so I continued, "I know it sounds really really stupid, I'm the one here with a degree and without a job, but, really, I did exactly what I always wanted and I wouldn't change a thing."

I have tears in my eyes now thinking about this and I do feel naive, stupid, pathetically selfish and idealistic, but this is all true.

The Brazilian author Orígenes Lessa wrote a poignant book that I read when I was young (15 or 16 maybe?)* and which has haunted me ever since. It is titled O feijão e o sonho (1938) (The Bean[s] and the Dream) and the main character is man who dreames of becoming a writer. The main consequence of him being such a dreamer is that he is unable to support his family (his wife and daughter) properly, hence the title -- he cannot put beans (a food staple in Brazil) on the table. He agonizes over this, but can't give up on his fruitless dream and I think that his wife ends up leaving him. I identified with that man somehow and wondered if -- because I had such foolish dreams -- I would find difficulty one day in helping bring "the beans" home. Well, I don't need to wonder any further, here I am. I have the dreams, but the beans, they continue to elude me. Why do I have to be so stubborn and passive? Why do I refuse to regret making a suicidal "career path" and studying something that, to quote that now infamous (for me) Newsweek article, is one of the "undergraduate majors for which employment prospects are so dicey your parents practically beg you to go to a trade school instead."

So, yeah... I think I'll go work at a retail store and/or open a home based daycare facility here so I can help support my family. That's what I should do ahead and do. Or, perhaps, as my BIL and his wife suggested, go to school to become a nurse-midwife or something more reliable like that.

Why do I still cling to the stupid dream?

* Although the book was not originally written for children, the author later became a prominent writer of young adult literature, so when I read this book it was marketed to young readers, in spite of its complex themes.

New Eyeglasses

I really don't wear glasses, only contacts, but after I lost my most recent (i.e. 7-8 years old) pair back in December, I had to purchase new ones. What do you think?(this was a self-portrait taken yesterday morning).

Blame it on the Photos

Oh yeah!!! And (continuing last post's subject) I guess that the most important thing to "blame" for the fact that I don't post as often as I'd like is:

PHOTOS!

Yeah, my obsession with posting photos (which I don't do as often as I'd like -- my frustration with the 365+1 blog can show that well) makes posts that would be otherwise simple to write near impossible Ffor instance, I've wanted to post about HAIR for the longest time, but I do want to include PICTURES! of my hair when I was SIX, YES! And those need to be found, and scanned, and all t hat takes time. I haven't yet told you about my wedding for the same reason. Each anniversary I say to myself -- this is the one, I'll get around and do it this year, but nah... not time.

Anyway... why in the world do I have to justify myself and find reasons for everything?

Well, because, as I told my friend this afternoon, humans are complex creatures, each with his/her own little "craziness." (I said that because of the fact that although I am an extremely messy and disorganized person, I have these weird impulses for systematization. We were getting/collecting [what's the right verb for this? do tell me] the dried clothes from the line and I explained to them how I already classified them all when hanging -- K's, mine, and each of the boy's clothes were hanging together).

So this is who I am. And I'm glad some of you enjoy reading what I write. Thanks. Really.

And one of the last things my dad said to me when I dropped him of at the airport "yesterday" (for me it's still Thursday because I haven't gone to bed yet -- they left on Wednesday) is that I should stop "dealing with those photos." And I guess he's right. I am obsessed with them although I police myself so I spend as little time as possible on them. OK. that's it for now.

Indecision (or... should I title this "Indecisive"?)

I think I'm going to finish this post and send it "into the air" tonight. Yes, I will.

I say so because I'm writing while listening to music. I hardly ever do so, not only write to music, but listen to music. period. This is really really weird (and VERY SAD!) because, first, I own over 500 CDs (it's one of my obsessions, and I have yet to let go of the pleasure of having an album -- oh, I miss LPS -- in my hands, with the liner notes to read, etc... -- thank God for BMG its CD club, I pay very little for each CD I buy -- if you're curious, ask me about it and I'll elaborate in th e comments); second, one of the best things to "put me in the mood" for writing and writing is listening to music; and third, it's so much easier to accomplish everyday tasks around the house while listening to music!!! However, I generally don't like having earphones in my ears and... we have had the ipod for only half a year and I never know where it is (and don't really know how to work that thing -- we're not apple people YET, so I'm always a bit put off by tiny gadgets that you have to operate just moving a finger around). In the end, I like ambient music in the stereo better BUT... my sons have hijacked our living room stereo [topic for yet another post] and I haven't yet bought or gotten a most often requested gift -- a small, portable boombox that I can take with me around the house...

OK, this post is NOT about listening to music although I do need to write a post about that, and about a hundred thousand other things that I never get around to doing it.

There's this series of posts called "Issues" that I'm inaugurating right now and I guess it's a very fitting thing to write about this personality trait that does bring me lots of problems in so many levels.* It may sound silly, but it's not, I assure you -- I just have such a hard time deciding!!! And it may sound weird also, but it's the "useless little things" of life that I have to decide that are the peskiest ones. It's pathetic, I tell you. Take photos, for example. Whenever I decide to order photos I have a really hard time to choose which of the many poses of each photo to develop. It takes me a while sometimes to pick which photos to post here or to the other blog.

Shopping becomes a nightmare!!! Which shoe to buy? This? That? The other? It's much worse in Brazil (shoe wise) because there are just so many, a daunting number of pairs, to choose from. Sometimes I just don't buy anything. Good thing I don't have much money and have to stick to clearances which have very limited offers (if anything) in my size, so I don't really have to choose.

Making the big decisions in life is not hard for me at all, really... but the little things just make me waste so much precious time!! What to post about? Where to go first? The store? The library? What to wear today?

Packing for a trip? The worse thing ever because I have to decide!! Ahead of time!!! Which clothes to wear!! Not only for me, but for the boys too, and that's beyond overwhelming. Yeah, I think packing is the worse. Sometimes I overpack just because I cannot decide which clothes to take. At other times I just "decided" I wasn't going to take too many things and then almost didn't have clothes to wear :(

I cannot think of more examples right now, but indecision does make life a nightmare for me sometimes. I totally "inherited" it from my dad -- I'd always joke as a kid that I inherited both of my parent's defects, or "questionable qualities" ;), namely, indecision and disorganization/ messiness, and pack-rat tendencies from my dad and skinniness, nervousness, "electric"/ energetic attitude and demeanor, and bluntness, from my mom. (I always loved all their favorite foods too, potatoes from daddy, strawberries and cream from mom and dad-- I always felt very connected to my parents in all these ways).

My dad was so indecisive that my mom almost didn't get to marry him. Seriously. As we say in Brazil, the guy didn't know "whether to get married or buy a bicycle." In his case, he was almost 30 years old (that's how old he was when he got married and my mom 27 -- quite unusual back in 1968 in Brazil!) and he didn't know whether to marry my mom or to pursue the study of medicine. Well, good thing he went for theology instead,** they got married six months into his first semester, and I was accidentally born three years later (see here for the circumstances of my birth and, in fact, a summary of my life).

I don't know if I'll ever get better from my case of acute indecision, but at least I can say that I have blogged about it, what about that? (and if I remember any other horribly embarrassing and distracting examples of my "condition" I'll tell you about it, OK? And I'll name the posts, "Indecision, part II, III, etc." Yeah, it'll be fun - ha ha ha)...

Gotta go decide which photo to post in my 361+1 blog right now! ;)

P.S. See how music helped? I think I need more of it. Belated New Year's resolution: listen to more music.

* I have started several "Issues" posts and not been able to finish them, and I have a list of topics I want to write about and hopefully I'll get to them someday. Some are extremely hard to even think about, let alone write about. But I don't have money for therapy so I have to kind of do it here ;)

** Dad lived in the "frontier" of his time [remind me to write more about how my dad's family were some of the "pioneers" who in the 1940s helped settle the thick forests of the Southern Brazilian countryside] so he was only able to study from 1st-4th grade in the tiny town where they lived and then he didn't continue his schooling until he was 22 years old and went back to 5th grade (for adults, an accelerated elementary school). This was quite common in his generation because young man often stayed at home and helped parents either in agriculture or commerce and only left later. My mom even got to be his art teacher in 6th grade when she was already in college! (they didn't date until years later)

Contrary

I've been feeling a bit contrary lately (although my name's not Mary), but mostly it's because some "contrary" things are going on.

The main one is that now that we had decided to wait to buy another house and stay in this one for a while longer, there's someone interested in renting it [sigh]!! Just looking at houses online today made me depressed because given what happened last time, house-hunting has lost its charm for me. Besides it's such a time suck and so draining! Not to mention that I'm about to travel and won't be here so we can choose another house and buy it in time for the tenants to move in, were we to rent this house. :(

I have tons of things to do to prepare for my trip but I have no energy whatsoever to do them. The worst of all is going shopping with the boys. They haven't been behaving badly or anything (I spent the whole day out last Friday and it was fine), but I dread getting them in the car and going out, I have to entertain them, keep them nourished, and keep them from fighting, all while trying to concentrate on the tasks at hand.

I wish I could be excited about going to Brazil, but I'm just apprehensive. I won't be taking my laptop, so I have to try and have the conference papers partly ready, and I have to load all the documents I may need into a flash drive. Then, I feel stressed out just thinking about all the things I want to do in Brazil and how I should be planning carefully every minute of my month there so I can do all I want.

Well, but I know that I shouldn't really worry about the conference presentations -- conferences don't really faze me since I know not too many people, if any, are generally interested in other people's research (at least this happens often to me here since nobody cares about Brazil -- I'm hoping it might be different there, obviously), so it's not a big deal to write do an oral presentation. As for the planning, I better relax and let it happen, although this time I'll be traveling around and need to tell people of my schedule, at least.

Sorry to be so boring, and I warn you that there may be some heavy posting ahead since I wrote some posts in my journal, actually, and hope to transcribe them in the next few days. I also want to post some fun photos from the last few weeks. I know that those will be welcome, though :)

1987-1996: Ten Years in Journals

Left to right, top to bottom: 1987-1996

I first started keeping a journal (writing on and off in an old notebook) when I was 13 years old and I felt "infatuated" for a boy in a more intense manner for the first time.* That was back in 1985, in our last months living in the countryside, in the boarding academy where my parents taught. In 1986 we moved to São Paulo and my life changed in so many ways. I continued writing (and "fell in love" again with other boys), but didn't start keeping a daily journal until 1987 when I bought what we call an agenda (date/ appointment book) in Brazil.

As you can see in the photo above, I decorated the covers of 6 of them with either "contact" paper (pink with dots - 89 & 90) or wrapping paper covered with clear contact paper (93-94).

I generally decorated the inside of the covers as well with stickers or cut-outs from wrapping paper (I loved the Care Bears back then ;) or magazines.

Some were very kitschy or cheesy, and even kind of ugly:

1988

1989, very pink

Others still cheesy, but not that bad, come on :):

1991

I became more "minimalist" and with a better taste as the years went by.

1993 (the year I first came to the U.S.)

The two magazine cut outs above show photos that I found attractive - a family having a good time together and a nicely decorated home (we ended up buying a very similar striped couch after we got married the following year, only it was dark blue and white, not pink - my favorite color, incidentally).

I carried these journals everywhere and I tried to write everyday (these were appointment books after all), but I sometimes I skipped some of them. I also pasted the movie reviews from the São Paulo Veja magazine (which had the TV schedule) for almost all every film that I watched on TV or rented and ticket stubs to concerts I went to, etc.

Let me conclude this with is the page of the day I started "dating" my husband (story here):

The words, cut from a magazine say:
"Once upon a time there was a dream. Which became a reality."

I could write lots and lots about these journals and my life 20 years ago, -- wow, I'm getting really old ;) (not really, I know) -- but that will have to come at another time. I'm thinking of writing a post about all those "lost boys" ("lost" to me) that I liked, that would be interesting (I've been re-reading lots of entries about them these days, I don't know exactly why).

What else would you be curious about? (I know that Keiko, who asked the original question about my old journals will probably have tons of questions. ;)

* (I don't want to say that I "fell in love" because that's not really what I felt, of course. In Portuguese I'd say that eu me apaixonei for the first time, which is, I guess, translated as "fell in love" but without the word love there).

"Randomly" Tagged

The fabulous British mom and "famous" blogger Emily, tagged me (a week ago -- sorry about that!) for this meme, so now I'll try to share 8 random things about me (if I can think of 8 since I've already previously done a post on "6 weird things about me" and another voluntary random things post, a fairly long one too, the first two items in my list below are there, sorry about that...).

1. I generally prefer salty/savory foods to sweets.

2. I'm a bookworm, but I have read hardly anything for fun since Kelvin was born 5 years ago and particularly after I started working on the dissertation. I have this feeling I'll never be able to read as much as I used to again... (going to graduate school and working as a T.A. also dampened my reading considerably, I really haven't been much of a bookworm for almost 10 years now :( )

3. There wasn't a phone in my house growing up with two exceptions -- a short period between 5-8 years old and then when I was almost 19 and in college. That's why I generally don't like to call people I don't know on the phone (I do talk to friends OK) -- it's kind of a strange "phone phobia" that I have. My husband teases me about it all the time.

4. I lived at home with my parents and younger brother until I got married, at 23.5 (I decided not to go to a boarding academy for high school as my parents wanted and I went to college in a university in the city where I lived -- that's very common in Brazil, most people live at home while going to college. And besides, the Universidade de São Paulo is the largest and best university in the whole country, some say it's the best in all of Latin America -- why would I have gone anywhere else?).

5. I got my driver's license when I was 24.5 years old, a few months before I came to the U.S. I never drove in Brazil before then, only took public transportation or went out with my parents. Cars are quite expensive in Brazil, only rich kids have their own cars. (Oh, and in Brazil one can only have a driver's license at 18, but one can vote at 16 -- I think that makes lots of sense!!).

6. I'm a really messy person. I guess I have some kind of selective "ADD" -- I just can't concentrate when it comes to picking things up from the floor, putting things away, organizing a messy desk, etc. I like cleaning, but I don't like tidying up. Luckily my husband is really good with that :)

7. I usually don't do blog "memes," but I like to create memes. So far I've created only two, but I'm working on another one :)

8. I really cannot think of anything else that might be even slightly interesting... OK, I'm a night person. If I could I'd sleep in until 11 or 12 every morning and stay up until really really late. I've actually been doing that quite often in the past few years because I've had my parents helping out (but I get up at 10, generally, or 9 when we're by ourselves and my husband lets me -- thanks, hon!).

I don't feel like tagging anyone, particularly since my tags just don't seem to ever work. OK, just a few "random" people :) Keiko, Jennie, WWWMama, M. Only do it if you feel like it, though, OK?

My Parents' Voyages and My Life

(Written on Saturday, March 24. I didn't post it earlier because I was looking for some photos. I couldn't really find any and decided to post this anyway, but I found them just now!)

This afternoon we were at our friends’ house with a group of Brazilian folks from church. Pretty soon, my parents were the center of the attention and the conversation. I had just gone to help in the kitchen, but I only needed to hear a word here and there to know exactly what they were talking about.


I know all those stories by heart, since I heard them during my entire childhood. It was one of the topics of choice in my parents’ conversations with new acquaintances: their three years an a half in Europe back in 1969-1972. I outlined some of the facts here (items 1-14), when I talked about my birth, but I never elaborated much upon this subject. This afternoon, when I had some moments to myself, I smiled when I reminisced about the influence that my parents’ experiences and “adventures” have had in my life and I immediately wanted to write this post.

I think it all began with the slides. I may have “inherited” my passion for photography in my genes since my dad always took lots of photos. Their photos from Europe are mostly slides, though. During the years my parents worked at a boarding academy in the Brazilian Southern countryside my dad often made slide presentations of the trips to Europe to the students in the Friday night vespers meetings. Once in a while, pretty rarely, in fact, he would show them to us at home.

There was a big box of postcards too, but I didn’t like to look at them too much, I preferred real photos, taken by my parents. To this day when I travel I don’t buy many postcards, unless they portray exactly what I saw or offer a panoramic view that I couldn’t have otherwise. I feel that postcards are so “artificial” in a sense; I like the real experience which is reflected in photographs. So what I liked the most about my parents’ photos and slides was that they had really been there and seen that. (Oh, my dad did take photos of some postcards to make slides – I really disliked those, since I felt cheated! - the photo on the left may be one of those slides, I have to check with my dad).

From an early age I was able to recognize European cities by looking at pictures of them (I happen to have a “photographic memory” too) and I never tired of hearing the stories of my parents’ trips. This afternoon they recounted a bit the story of my birth (I promise to write more about that some other time, it’s pretty interesting), but as the conversation drifted towards current issues, they went on to talk about their visits to Islamic countries. These occurred as part of the 4 months long camping trip that they took with my maternal grandparents and I. They traveled in my parents’ old, falling to pieces, Kombi VW van and toured most of Europe in it.

Here is the van parked in Berlin in the summer of 1972.

They visited Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan and wanted to drive to Israel, which wasn't possible because once they had left an Islamic country and driven into Israel, they wouldn't have been allowed to drive back. The only way out would have been to put their car on a ship to Greece in order to return to Europe. To make matters worst, this part of their trip coincided with the events of Black September (1972)!! (Last year we watched Spielberg’s Munich together with keen interest). That must have been so scary! The borders were all closed, police and armed officials were on the roads. I think that in Jordan, they even "escorted" my parents with an army guy inside the van twice (one of these guys actually put his hand on my mom's thigh - ugh!). Then my mom, grandma, and I (barely 12 months old) stayed behind in a campground in Turkey with the van while my dad and grandpa flew to Egypt and then Jerusalem since that was their once in a lifetime opportunity to visit those places. So, as you can imagine, they have countless interesting stories to tell! I have to get these written down someday. I guess I have to help my mom write them.


I was busy in the kitchen, helping my friend prepare snacks for the crowd, but I returned to the living room for a moment, just in time to hear my friend ask me: "So, do you remember all those trips?" “Oh, no,” I replied, “I was just one year old!” And then after a while I thought to myself, yes, I don’t remember, but all these stories have defined my life and made me be who I am today. Even though I can’t have actual recollections of them, my parents’ adventures have left indelible marks in me so it’s almost as if I did remember.

I wish I could remember when I had my first birthday. My parents were visiting London and camping in Greenwich. Later when I learned about this place’s importance as the main “date line” I always felt connected to it somehow for having been there on my first birthday. A few days later they celebrated the occasion in Belgium with a little cake and if I “remember” correctly, some people in the campground gave then some delicious cookies or wafers to celebrate the occasion.

I wish I could remember the day I started walking. They were in Berlin, in front what I think is now the parliament building or something. I haven’t yet been able to determine which building it is and when I was in Berlin in 2000 I just felt a burning desire to know for sure where it was -- please check the van photo above, since I started walking across from that building and maybe one of you can help me determine where exactly it is. And here is a shot of me, all excited. That's my mom in the background:
I wish I could remember this little boy dressed in long black Arabic clothes with whom I appear in a photo. I don’t know exactly where either, the San Marco Piazza in Venice, perhaps? since there were lots of pigeons around...

For the longest time I longed to see the place where I had been born, the country that denied me citizenship, a fact that I deeply resented because I had to spend most of my life explaining to everyone who happened to find out where I was born that “No, I am not Swiss.” “Yes, I am Brazilian, as if I had been born in the Brazilian consulate, which is technically Brazilian soil.” “No, Switzerland doesn’t give their nationality to children of foreigners who are born there, they say that ‘cats that are born in the oven aren’t bread’” and so on…

I had mixed feelings when I finally got to go to Geneva back in 1999. I was there for 39 days, taking French classes in the same school where my father was studying when I was born (a small school in France, just across the border with Switzerland). On my 28th birthday I walked to the hospital where I was born although I didn't go inside and I had no idea in which building I had actually been born. And the following year, I went there with my husband too on our backpacking tour of Europe (We went on my father-in-law’s birthday, how interesting! How irrelevant! How I like digressions! :)

My parents’ time abroad is probably the reason why I’m here today, living as an expatriate. I took the next step, the one they didn’t get to take. Partly because my dad never received a call to go work as a missionary as they wanted, only one to go back to Brazil to work there, and partly because my mother was so homesick she just couldn’t take life away from her family anymore. And she still is full of saudade, the Portuguese language word for homesickness, longing, missing someone, nostalgia, etc… (Some say this word exists only in our language, it's out "contribution" to the world... ) This time my mom feels saudade of my brother who is living in China, and of us here. Her two only children, living abroad, so far away. It breaks her heart and I feel for her, but they planted the seeds, with all those stories, those slides, those recollections of things we had never lived, but longed to see nevertheless.

------

And I’m glad, in fact delighted, that I’m learning to write, am I not? I don’t have to tell you everything as I’m generally wont to do. I can come back another day and tell you more. Dreams, little ones, becoming reality, bit by bit.

Compulsive Categorizer

I feel a bit guilty about this, but I just spent the whole day "working" on this blog. I finally updated the template and my blogroll, which had several non-working URLs as well as links to blogs which had moved elsewhere. I kept the "obsessive categorization" -- which, by the way, is not alphabetized (only the blogs within each category are). Now I have the labels in the side bar as well -- every single post (I have less than 300) is labeled and now all of my 30 or so readers can go look in my archives by choosing a theme. The number of labels is almost as ridiculous as the number of blogroll categories, but I just can't help it. It's part who I am to compulsively categorize everything. I guess it could be the name of a disorder or syndrome: "Compulsive Categorizer Disorder," like obsessive compulsive disorder.

Don't be fooled by that (or this photo of my closet, for that matter) into thinking that I'm an organized person because I'm not. I'm the messiest person you could ever meet, just ask my mom or my poor husband. The top of my desk, my bedroom floor, my closet, are a shame to behold. Not so with my filing cabinet (this is the dissertation drawer -- I ran out of hanging folder tabs, or there would be more of them -- I just bought a package last week, though:) :
This is the extent of my organization, though. Oh, and I almost forgot, most of my photos and negatives are all organized by year (at least up until 1999) -- we do have well over a thousand photos taken between 1990-2003 when we went digital. Needless to say, all my digital photos and computer files are organized too -- but alas, that's a "virtual" kind of organization.

Back to the blog, though. I have already added some nifty novelties, e.g. scroll your mouse over external links in posts or the sidebar and you get to see an image of that site -- this is free service from Snap.com. Now the next step will be to change the template around a bit with the help of sites like this one, which is awesome (thanks for the link, Geeky Mom)! So, get ready to see some changes -- although I am pretty cautious, and the changes that I already made are making it hard for me to add any elements to my the layout -- the page just won't charge!! The problem is that in order to keep the same kind of blogroll, I had to add a lot of html to the layout, and it seems not to be too "happy" about that.

Well, at least I hope I can make more changes to this space.

I Wish I Could Be... & I Love that I Am...

I wish I could be...

... more witty
Particularly in real live conversations, I wish I could be able to quickly think of a witty, intelligent thing to say right away. Sometimes a witty response comes to me only after it's too late, sometimes hours later.

... more funny/ humorous
As I explained in the previous post, I can rarely come up with a joke, I wish I could infuse my writer of more humour too, but I guess this is just a trait that some people are naturally born with. I do try hard sometimes. On the other hand, I can't stand people who just tell jokes all the time and can't have serious conversations. In my opinion, humor has to be used sparingly and effectively, both in writing and real life interactions.

... more snarky
when needed (I learned this word through blogs, probably Chicagomama, who used to be extremely snarky and is now "the raider of the lost snark" :) -- see? that's the kind of witty I want to be. Being snarky probably doesn't match my other traits (see the list of things I love about me), but would sure come in handy in many situations in life.

... less sensitive
sometimes I earnestly wish I had tougher skin and could bear criticism and feedback (particularly in relation to my writing) better. On the other hand, my sensitiveness is what makes the first trait in the list below possible. And I guess my skin is toughening slowly but surely -- blogging helps, and having to finish a dissertation does too.

~~~ ~~~

Just to offset the wish list above and to show that I have a healthy self-image and awareness I decided to include those things I don't wish for, and the personal traits that make me happy as well.

I DON'T wish at all that I were cooler, more fashionable or more unconventional. I've never liked to do things just "to fit in" (it helps that I didn't grow up and go to high school in this country, I'm sure!). I don't care for popularity and "fame" (even though I have to admit that I'd like to have more readers in this blog here, have my stats go up and "evolve" in the eco-system via links in other blogs :)

~~ ~~

I love that I am (or have learned to be)...

... empathetic
As many of you have may have already proabably noticed in my comments on your blogs, I am truly a very empathetic person. I am easily moved to tears by someone's description of their troubles or joys (call me sappy, I don't mind, I like that in me too :) and become very excited and enthusiastic when good things happen.

... conciliatory
I try to avoid confrontation people and try to be conciliatory. That doesn't mean I have strong opinions, which I do, I just think it's useless to waste one's time and energy in arguments that don't lead anywhere. That's what I think of the "mommy wars" for example, as I wrote in this post (people seemed to like what I wrote because many people commented, some for the first time). I strongly disagree with certain parenting practices, but I think people have the right to choose whatever they want to do and works best for them.

... honest, authentic, true to myself
these have been guiding tenets in my life since a very young age. I just can't pretend to be someone I'm not, I can't really hide my feelings, I'm really an open book. That doesn't make me the most agreeable person to interact with at first sight and can be a pain to deal with when I'm mad about something, but once you know me, I'm more mellow than my sometimes "serious" exterior may show.

... very social, communicative
I just love interacting with people. Both me and my husband are like that -- a good, profound or fun conversation is priceless in our opinion. That's why we miss our friends in Brazil and do get very lonely sometimes. That's why blogging has changed my life for the better, as I have explained in an earlier post. Interacting, "socializing" with people virtually has made all the difference in my life, particularly as a mother "stuck" at home with my two boys in a large city where I don't know many people, or those I know live quite far and aren't like me at all (i.e. most friends from church).

~~~

Of course there are things in me that I know realistically that I cannot change, such as being kind of lazy, a procrastinator, and really messy and disorganized. I do try to be better, but mostly I just end up having do some "damage control" to the troubles caused by these annoying traits :) I do like to work under pressure, though, so in the end, it usually works out all right and I end up not trying to change radically. Oh well... :)

Six Weird Things About Me

I had planned to post this three weeks ago, but then I decided to write a 9/11 post. I guess this is a good time for this "meme" since I'm in a writing-things-about-myself phase here in the blog (not that it's not already all about me :) This post has been in the works for many months as you'll see below.

You know, it's the funniest thing -- I was absolutely sure I had been tagged by someone with the "Six weird things about me" meme but apparently I wasn't!! A looooong time ago (January or February 2006), I was tagged for a book meme by Kate at Expatmama, and a "four things" meme by Juliet at Dalian Moon. Oh, and more recently, Cloudscome from a wrung sponge tagged me for another great book meme that I really want to respond to. However, as far as I can tell, I wasn't tagged for this weird things one! :) If you did tag me and I forgot who you are, would you kindly let me know? I feel like I've completely lost my marbles right now...

Ever since this "phantom tagging" feeling took hold of me months ago I have been thinking about the weird things I'd list. Initially I had a hard time thinking of them --I guess I'm pretty "normal," even boring; but, eventually, I realized that there are a few quirky or "weird" things about me. Wanna check them out?

1. Hair Removal Issues
I can’t shave my legs, underams, bikini area, etc. (although I sometimes have to). For some reason, my body is allergic to shaving and any shaved parts itch like crazy, as if I had many bumpy mosquito bites. I need to wax them, or use an electric “depilatory” gadget (which is way too painful and I hardly ever have the courage). Problem is, I don’t have money to do professional wax in this country (in Brazil it’s very cheap as are getting a manicure, a pedicure, and a decent haircut), so sometimes I do a sugar wax at home (I can teach you how in the future if anyone is interested). Even waxing elicits a terrible reaction from my legs (or any other body part) – they become swollen and red, but this subsides in a couple of hours and – that’s key! – it doesn’t itch later and I also stay hairless much longer. I guess my body just rebels against hair removal. I should do what my SIL is doing and have them removed with laser (no money either for that, though :)

2.Leg Positions (not really weird, just quirky)
I love to have my legs (at least one of them) folded and up against my body when I'm sitting down and I can also squat for a long period of time. In addition, I sleep in a fetal position, with my legs as close as possible to my body. I can't breastfeed in a glider rocker or sofa without having a leg up supporting the baby (this helped a lot when I fell asleep nursing in the first months of my older son's life - that way he was supported and didn't fall off my lap, but I completely digress...). I thing this habit stems from my childhood history of acute asthma. I spent countless hours squatting down, since the legs against my chest made it the best position to breathe. I also slept many nights kneeling or "squating" on a pile of pillows, since it also helped me breathe. Therefore in spite of the fact that I haven't had any ashtma episodes in over 15 years, I still carry with me the habit of folding my leg(s) against my chest.

In addition to lifting my legs while seated, I also am addicted to crossing them. I know it's not good because it causes varicose veins (I am prone to them genetically too), but I just can't help it, I love to have them crossed, sometimes twice...

4. Shocking!
I hate touching things and getting shocks, but it happens quite often in cold weather when I'm getting out of the car, with the kids in the playground, and -- most annoying of all -- at the grocery store. I have learned to prevent it for the most part. My husband, the scientist, taught me how: when I get out of the car, I hold onto the metal part of the car key and touch the car with it. If I'm charged there's always a "zappy" noise, but no shock! Once I even had my older son hold a key while he played at the playground because the shocking was just awful that day (he doesn't like it either). I really hate getting shocked by simply touching my kids! Well, this dread has led to very strange behavior from my part whenm I'm getting out of the car and in the grocery store. I'm always hesitant to open the car door and the bins of refrigerated or frozen things and I usually touch it slightly, very afraid and jumpy, and then open it. I'm sure onlookers think that I'm nuts!! (Oh, one of my best friends in Brazil claims that he's the only person in the world he know who gets shocks by touching a plastic water bottle. Yikes!)

5. Phone Troubles
This is a pretty embarrasing problem and my husband always teases my about it. I didn't grow up, for the most part, with a phone in my house, so I hate to call people I don't know. I have gotten better and I generally do OK calling costumer service representatives and the phone, electric, and cable companies, for example. Once in a while, however, I just don't feel like calling and ask my husband to place the call. It's a relly strange dread.

6. "Dream Attacks"
So, this is the one really weird thing about me, something I worry about once in a while, since one of my greatest fears is the fear of serious mental health problems. The first time it happened is a post in itself, I'll try to write it soon. I was 17 and on that day I had received some disturbing letters, I was sitting in an assembly meeting with all students of my high school when all of a sudden I felt as if I were inside one of my dreams. It was a very strange feeling. I immediately felt nauseous and a burning hot sensation. I almost began to cry. My best friend left the meeting with me and I think I went home and took a nap and I felt better. It happened
several other times, always during stressful times. After a while I got used to it. I just knew it was coming and it was not so scary. It lasted just a minute or two and went away. It's very rare for me to have "dream attacks" now, but it still happens. I have no idea what they are and it's quite unsettling. I tend to remember my dreams pretty well, but sometimes what I "see" in my mind may not even be exactly a dream that I had, but it just feel like a dream. I can't even explain it, it as if all of a sudden I were living inside one of my old dreams. Yeah, creepy, isn't it?

I won't tag anyone, but if you're dying to reveal your inner weirdo, feel free to take up this meme too! :)

Answering Your Questions!

You asked, so I respond. Sorry it took me so long. I really enjoyed doing it, thanks for asking!

Alice asked:

-What's your favorite outfit? Do you prefer pants over skirts?
Ha, interesting you ask, my next post is a meme and I had written something that's almost a response to this question (I include it below).

It's hard to tell what is my favorite outfit. I wear pants all the time (except in hot weather), but I love skirts and dresses, particularly what they call "sundresses" here in the U.S.

Here's what I had written for the next post. It had actually been discarded from the post and would be just an extra, so I'm glad you asked!

Clothing Choices
I hate jeans, sneakers, button down shirts, t-shirts, and sweatshirts. Once in a while, when I can find a pair of jeans that fits right and are not too long (which is VERY difficult, given that I’m short and skinny, but have a cute Brazilian derrière – it’s hard to find petite or short legs jeans that are cool*), I buy them and wear them once in a while (in cold weather), just because they make me feel “younger,” more “in” or cooler :) But I hate t-shirts and sweat shirts because they’re “shapeless” and button down shirts because they just feel too masculine and ugly to me, even with typically “feminine” prints and colors. I hardly ever wear sneakers – I guess I’m just not sporty at all. I definitely like cute blouses or tops and tank tops too (I don’t even like the more shapely “baby” style t-shirts that are fashionable now).

*I just realized how to do it - I started looking in the girls section. I just bought a great pair of "skinny jeans" two weekends ago that fit perfectly. Size 14 (years old).

-I know you love shoes. Do you (or Brasilians in general) wear shoes inside the house as well? Or do you use house shoes, or none at all?
Well, that's an interesting question :) It depends on the house. Most houses in Brazil have hard tiled floors, which are easy to clean, so people sometimes just wear regular shoes indoors. When we lived in houses with carpeting in São Paulo, we'd remove our shoes to walk around the carpeted parts. Here in the U.S. there's generally carpet everywhere, although you know we put laminate flooring in the living/dining area, so we always wear slippers, socks or walk barefoot inside the house.

-Are you religious?
Yes, I am. My dad is actually a church pastor (now retired), as is my father-in-law and one brother-in-law. My grandpa (on my mother's side) was also a pastor. I like to say that I'm a Sabbath-keeping Christian, but if you want to know the denomination, it's the Seventh-Day Adventist church.

I thought I'd write a few more words about religion since I may not return to this subject again in this blog, who knows. I find it hard to be a Christian here in the U.S. because I do not identify at all with the political agenda of most Christians in this country. I tend to view myself as a "post-modern" Christian, or "a new kind of Christian" (to borrow Brian McLaren's book title), someone who's as accepting of other people and their beliefs as possible.

-When you were little, what did you dream you wanted to be when you grew up?
Wow, that's a deep question! When I was little little I didn't really think of this much. I thought I'd be a teacher like my mom (although she didn't really want me to because she thought it was a tough job). Then, from 13-18 I knew I wanted to be a writer. That was when I decided that I'd study literature and languages. I've always loved to study, so becoming a scholar turned out to be a natural path for me. I've already been and will most probably continue to be a teacher. Whether I'll ever be a writer remains to be seen. Unless blogging, writing academic articles, and an essay here and there counts :)

Juliet asked:

Who was your hero growing up?
That's a tough one. I think I didn't have any "heroes" per se, but I adored my cousins JC and Denise, who were like brother and sister to me and my brother. Oh, yeah, and I had a "favorite" older cousin too. She an her SIL (her brother's wife) were my heroes[heroines] because they had given birth to their children completely naturally (and in Brazil nonetheless where most people have C-sections or at least epidurals). As you knokw, I went on to do the same!! My dad has always been an inspiration for me as well. He's a very sincere and coherent (consistent) person -- his life and actions definitely reflect his beliefs.

What kind of music do you like?
Lovely question, it merits many, many posts, but I'll try to keep it short! :) We have a really large CD collection, maybe close to 400. I haven't yet entered the world of MP3, thanks to BMG. I just love to have the actual CDs, be able to read the notes (I really do read every single thing written on those, what do you call them? CD covers?). (I am using "I" throughout, but should be using "we" since my husband's musical taste and mine are identical).

I love Brazilian "popular music," what I'm referring to here are the "classic" songwriters and interpreters of what we call "MPB" (Musica Popular Brasileira), such as Chico Buarque, Caetano Veloso, Tom Jobim, Gilberto Gil, Ivan Lins, Gal Costa, Joao Gilberto, just to name the best known and most celebrated ones. One of the best known "MPB" genres here in the U.S. is Tom Jobim and Joao Gilberto's Bossa Nova. I love this peaceful, lovely, shimmering kind of music (a mixture of jazz and Brazilian rythms created in the 1950s-60s), in spite of the fact that it's mostly a poetic, apolitical kind of music. The music of Caetano Veloso and Chico Buarque, on the other hand, is much more politically engaged and intellectually stimulating. I could write many many words about Brazilian music. Actually, one of my dreams is to write a scholarly book about it. I even have the title, a theoretical approach, and a friend who'd co-write it with me. What am I wating for? Well, maybe someday.

I enjoy classical music too, but I don't have many CDs and don't listen to it on a daily basis. Aaron Copland, Chopin, Brahms, Debussy, and the contemporary Brittish composer John Rutter are some of my favorites (along with, of course, the best of Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven). I like some jazz(y) interpreters (Nat King Cole, Louis Armstrong, Bobby McFerrin, Diana Krall, Norah Jones), and Broadway tunes interpreted by famous singers (i.e. Barbra Streisand, Kenny Rogers, Carly Simon, and others) and some standard old "romatic fare" such as classics by Stevie Wonder, Sting, Phill Collins, and some Lionel Richie. I like James Taylor, and I have recently discovered the marvelous Joni Mitchell. I also own a few collections of movie soundtrack compositions by John Williams, Dave Grusin, and I think the music of the Italian movie music composer Ennio Morriconi is heavenly (Cinema Paradiso is one of my favorite movies). And I like Yo-yo Ma. One of my favorite albums of all time is David Foster's Symphony Sessions.*

I also enjoy a few select contemporary Christian music artists here in the U.S. and from Brazil as well as Christmas music in general, both "classic/ popular" and contemporary.

I'm sure I've forgotten a lot of favorites, but I guess that gives you an idea of my tastes. I'd like to be more eclectic than I am, but sometimes I feel I'm too much an "easy-listening" music kind of person and I feel kind of ashamed of it ;)

Something somebody said to you that has changed [you] for life.
Another complex one. I can think of several people who said influential things to me. When I was a teenager me and my friends had a "mentor" called Jacob, he said many things that influenced my life for the better. I think what has changed my life the most were the deep conversations I had with my better-half and our friends over the years...

Cloudscome asked:

How about what is your favorite thing to do on a Saturday night?
Hanging out with friends and talking for hours and hours (any other night will do as well :). I only do this now when we go to Brazil and see our "old" friends, they still remain our deepest friendships although we're so far away.

And Saturday Morning?
Well, I go to church and teach the children's class. On Sunday morning (maybe that answers your question better) I like to sleep in until noon if possible (especially if I talked with my friends until the wee hours the night before :) Too bad that's hardly possible with two little boys in the house. I can't wait until they're teenagers (just kidding, of course :)...

And do you have any pictures of Brazil to share with us?
I have TONS!! I'll post some of those in a separate post or a series of posts, what about that? You have to come over sometime to see the ones that are not digital.

Phew! It took me so many days to answer all these questions I'm almost tired now! The next post was already written, that's why I was able to post both today :).

* I wrote this about this album on November 8, 1998: This is one of the best cds that I own! This cd is energizing, calming , touching, poetic, inspiring, romantic... all at the same time. I never tire of listening to it and through the years it has been a wonderful musical background to unforgettable moments with friends, remarkable trips or only to relaxing moments ar home. I recomend it to anyone who loves to listen to instrumental music that can take you on imaginary journeys into the beauty of sounds and feelings. Give it a try and it will surely become one of your favorites, as it is one of mine!!