anyone lived in a pretty how town

saliva!

I was having an upsetting problem while doing my almost-daily swimming practice. My goggles would persistently get foggy to the point I was swimming blinded by the haze. That took my concentration from the actual swimming and let me all distracted trying to fix it or understand why was it happenning to me, since everybody else looked fine. I even bought a new pair of goggles, thinking that the problem could be the quality of my first ones. When the same happened to my second pair, I started to think the problem was my big face or my undisciplined personality. It was only after many conversations with different people that I came across the information that changed my swimming - You’ve gotta LICK the lens of the goggles to prevent them to get foggy! When I first heard that I twisted my face in disgust. It was only when I overcame my repugnance and tried doing it, that I could see [SEE!!] the miracle happening!

Now I swim like a mermaid [or at least try!], and are able to see the other swimmers, the sky, the water, and all the yucky stuff that rests on the bottom of the pool!

one more reason to love cats!

>> image link provided by Gabe!

good night

I am in bed with a laptop over my legs. This could be an excellent set up for a post filled with misspelling. I’ll try my best, though.

First, three important things about me:

- I don’t type;
- I talk too much;
- I have an absent mind.

Other things regarding me I will write about along the way. Today I want to describe my favorite time of the day. In fact, I’m living it right now in a slightly different way, but it is because I wanted to write about it, if not I would be only enjoying it.

The moment is after I have a shower and get in bed. I snuggle in, turn the television on, grab a book or a magazine, or even do some knitting, and watch movies. It is better when there is a good old movie on, preferably something from the 30s or 40s. I love old Hollywood movies! Yesterday I was delighted to see for the third time It Happened One Night, directed by Frank Capra in 1934, with Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable. Just wonderful! Today is Joan Crawford and Robert Taylor in When Ladies Meet, from 1941.

In my bed, cozy, watching these movies, I feel perfectly happy. That’s my recipe for an ideal ending for a day.

I'm not driving Miss Daisy

I’m truly thankful for not having to drive in wild roads anymore, like the ones I used to take in Brazil. The scariest one for me was Anhanguera highway, crowded with trucks driving in an insanely manner. I would arrive at my destination with a painful lump in my neck. In Brazil, drivers have to be aggressive and preventive at the same time, in order not to get in a crash.

My driving in Davis, California is a piece of cake, compared to my driving on Brazilian roads. People here seem to be more educated when it comes to traffic rules. The credits must definitely go to the horrifying movies students watch in driving schools, which hurt the heart, and to expensive tickets given by traffic patrols, which are very efficient hurting the pocket!

Apart from some scarce nut heads driving here and there, I feel safe most of the time. I go back and forth on I80, listening to music, singing along, never having to worry about trucks and getting my back, shoulders and neck growing numb and feeling paralyzed during my trips to Sacramento or San Francisco.

I guess I can say I feel more relaxed driving here, because my experience in Brazil was not a bed of flowers. Perhaps, if I had learned how to drive in California, I would fear other fellows on our highways. Still, what I really feel while driving in Davis is a huge irritation. I can seldom show my well trained and perfected Brazilian wholesome road aggressiveness, for the other driver’s slowness and incompetence won’t allow me. I am therefore twice as preventive, to compensate for the other’s lack of skills and assertiveness.

I am always in shock when someone slower than me won’t allow me to pass. I remember my mom yelling at people driving like that - “Are you on vacation??” [in Portuguese it sounds more daring and sarcastic - “Tá passeando, é??”] I simply can’t help but say furiously “Get out of my way, you little prick!!” and speed ahead, passing the relaxed vacationers using the right lane.

I also curse and grind my teeth to the goddamn drivers who park sideways, occupying two spots. And to the bloody ones who don’t give a light sign when turning or changing lanes. And to the freaking ones who just step on the gas pedal when pulling out of parking spots. And I honestly despise the ones that don’t know how to use the rear mirrors – and don’t even know they exist and have a purpose. And finally, I absolutely disdain the ones who are capable of hitting and destroying my parked car, while trying to fit theirs in a parking spot.

Well, driving in Davis appears to be safer, but is certainly not so. And it’s sure causing me a hell of a mental strain!

Snap out of it!

What can I do? It’s part of who I am, and I have been doing it since I was six. It is a habit hard to break. All my efforts to stay away from it in the past twelve years were futile. I always go back to it, for is when I’m doing it that I feel relaxed and happy. I understand it is not good for me, and it is taking me away from enjoying more healthy and closer relationships with people. It is also keeping me from sharing my life with a lot of folks I already know.

I feel ashamed, for I can’t stay away from it and will do anything to continuing doing it. I am aware of the consequences of insisting on this habit. I am perfectly conscious that it is only making me feel like an outcast, isolating me from what really matters, and making me live in an unreal world. Everything is very clear in my mind, and I am even alarmed, sure that I should start acting against it now, before it becomes too late.

How can I know all the bad things it is doing to me and still insisting in continuing this senseless behavior? What is this powerful force that keeps me under control? What do I need to do in order to break free of this dependency? Is there a treatment? Is there a cure? I don’t want to become an statistic, nor want to end up secluded in a ghetto.

I am convinced that some action needs to be taken, and it has to be done right here, right now! No more writing in Portuguese, my dear me! From now on, you are going to be writing in English – your very new, first and only language!

[yeah, right… as if…. dream on…!]

anyone lived in a pretty how town

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

E. E. Cummings

e.e.cummings

I’m starting this blog with a poem by E.E.Cummings, and even naming it after this poem, for Cummings is one - if not the only - of my favorites poets in English language. I marvel at the way he played with the written words. Reading Cummings reminds me of playing games with letter blocks or Scrambles. His body of work is fascinating, original and playful. So I hope this space will also be. However, I wish to forewarn my visitor: bear in mind that my writing here is an ongoing experiment, and like all work in progress there might be some imperfections along the way, which I will strive to perfect. Meanwhile, I can already anticipate that writing here will be a lot of fun!

my town