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Sunday, July 31, 2011

I'm Building Me A Home.

I really wanna know where Brasilian's are going with all this cement.  For real. Everyday there are men, women, children, babies, dogs, whatever, carrying bags of cement.  But I don't see anybody ever building anything. I don't see anybody mixing the cement.  I don't see anybody doing anything that requires cement.  Yet, everyday I see people carrying cement. WTH? 20 years from now are we gonna discover some crazy uber advanced plant in the middle of nowhere, where the cement is being carried undetected by individuals, and nuclear technology is being created or something? WHAT ARE YOU BUILDING BRASIL? And WHERE is it?

Anyhow, I'm discovering a true strong like/strong dislike relationship with this place.  And 2 months is never enough time to spend here.  Just like last year, when it's time to head home you think, "I was just starting to find my rhythm..." (not that I ever lost mine :-D).  I don't even know what I've been doing since I last wrote on this thing.  And so, this is why I'm not a blogger.  To be a blogger, one must blog.  And I think the word itself is so stupid that it's just not something I wanna do. Reminds me of the word booger.  And I don't wanna be a booger.  Plus, I'm super A.D.D. and have no way of keeping my thoughts on track, and so now I return to the point of this paragraph.  Right.  Strong like - I like Brasil in general.  Different energy.  Different culture.  Another way of thinking.  Another understanding of how to live. Strong dislike - Another way of thinking.  Another understanding of how to live.  These are not general statements.  Mostly I love other ways of thinking, and other understandings of how to live.  That's like...the beauty of life.  Wisdom.  Being open-minded.  Knowing that your way is not the only way, and most likely not the best way. But I'm referring to some very specific occurrences here.  And not even in other regions - but Rio specifically.

For example... what's up with 'customer service'? Or service in general?  Y'all don't have that here? Why is it so difficult to get ANYTHING done? "Can I have that without the chocolate sauce?" "No, it comes with the chocolate sauce."  "Okay, I know, but I don't want it.  I don't like chocolate sauce.  Can you just...not put it on?"  "No, it comes with the chocolate sauce."  "But ultimately, I'll be saving you both time and chocolate sauce because 1)you don't have to spend time swirling it across the top, and 2) you'll have extra left for whoever wants it."  "But it comes with chocolate sauce." Really?  Okay. Next.  Our refrigerator broke.  My mechanical expertise tells me that the motor has stopped running.  Something we can't break, nor fix.  So why is the landlord saying we have to pay to fix it because it occurred under our watch? Uh...no.  My friend wants to change her flight.  She called the airline.  They said "we can't do it on the phone, you have to go to the office."  She goes to the office. They said "we can't do it at the office, you have to go to the airport" (an hour away).  I'm pretty sure that when she gets to the airport, there gonna tell her she has to call.  This is bullshit. You need to get a document signed by a person in the next room.  You can see them.  They're right there.  Why does it take 2 months? And then... make the pizza crust in a way that in can be picked up.  What is this eating pizza with a knife and fork business?  And the worst thing of all is the panty lines.  You go to the beach - ass is completely out.  Booty gets a full tan.  Cheeks equally exposed on the sides.  You put your ass into some tight polyester (yes, polyester) pants... and NOW you decide to wear full booty draw(er)s?  The kind that are a little too small, and so display your bottom meat?  Now is not the time! Get the thong from the beach, yo.  Put that on.  And have a smooth booty.  Please.  Then, I'm not a needer of personal space when in other places.  That whole American "sit really far from anyone on the train" thing isn't really my thing.  But don't walk directly into me.  Know your body.  Know where it's going.  And know that the law of physics says it cannot possibly go in the same place as my body.  So don't attempt to put it there.  Lady watched me in the grocery store the other day, and practically ran up to me so she could push her cart into my heels.  Really lady?  And then she yells "OPA!" when I shove her cart into her gut.  No, lady.  That "opa" belongs to me.  You just looked at me, and in a determined fashion, ran behind me so you could push your cart into my heels.  My "opa." Thanks.  So yeah... I don't know what's up with some of these Cariocas.  Others are amazing.  And I strongly like them.  And oddly enough, with all of the bullshit, I sometimes still feel like I belong here.  Especially when I'm in Bahia. I see people that look just like me.  And that's kind of awesome.  They're like... my color.  My same shade.

Anyhow, been eatin'.  Been eatin' good.  Sometimes healthy.  Sometimes not so healthy.  If I cook it, likelihood is that it's healthy.  But if someone out there cooks it, likelihood is... it's delicious (and not so healthy).  Found an Italian place that has specials Mon - Thurs.  I got this.  And it was bomb.


The other day I had sushi for lunch at Minimok.
One of these days I cooked "sorpresa de espinafre." (But I know what's in it).
This, I did not eat.  But I felt it deserved its' space.  It's a hot dog.  A Rio hot dog.  Yes, those are potato chips on top.
Went hiking up Pedra da Gavea yesterday.  At some point, I'm pretty sure Jesus or one of them were carrying me up, cuz my legs went numb. From the bottom to the top.  842 meters. 2762 feet. To put that into perspective, the Empire State Building in NY is 102 stories, 381 meters tall, and 1250 feet high.  We climbed that twice.  With some leftover.  AND, with a large portion of it being rocks and vines.  Fun though.

Eating part = check.
Praying part = all during that hike, for sure. check.
Sans love = as we were climbing yesterday, one of the girls from the language school that I went hiking with said "Kami, are you dating anybody?" I said, "no, why?" She said, "I think that guys think you're out of their league." I laughed.  If it's hockey, I am.  I said, "ooookay.  I'm not sure that's it, though."  (I personally know it's a plethora of things; being out of their league is likely not one of them). She said, "They would have to work to get to know you."  "Ah," I said.  Then she said, "You don't have your green light on." Awesome.  I didn't even know I had one.

Beijos e abraços gente!

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