Well I'll be dipped. They did publish my letter, despite not verifying who I am. Maybe there are still people I know working there.
http://www.statenews.com/op_article.phtml?pk=29613
terça-feira, abril 12, 2005
Saturday was the Châ de Julian. It was a lovely party with a large amount of balloons blown up by Emeli, a fellow contractor at work. Time management kinda made the games a flop, but the decorations were nice. I had taught all morning (on my feet), and then cooked all afternoon to feed people. Most of the night I was in pain and very tired. I thought it was just from over doing it.
Then low and behold, Sunday morning my belly is about an inch lower than it was the previous day, accompanied by a lot of back pain and semi-period like cramps. Although it's very entertaining that it happened that fast, it's also very painful still. Even after going to the chiropractor today, I'm still feeling that dull ache in my back. If this lasts the next 5 weeks, I don't know what I will do. I'm sure he's got farther down to go still...
You can see updated photos on the belly site. I also made the photos of the châ public, but I'm not sure what good that does for anyone who wants to see them. Maybe search for akutygerdabahia in yahoo photos?
Then low and behold, Sunday morning my belly is about an inch lower than it was the previous day, accompanied by a lot of back pain and semi-period like cramps. Although it's very entertaining that it happened that fast, it's also very painful still. Even after going to the chiropractor today, I'm still feeling that dull ache in my back. If this lasts the next 5 weeks, I don't know what I will do. I'm sure he's got farther down to go still...
You can see updated photos on the belly site. I also made the photos of the châ public, but I'm not sure what good that does for anyone who wants to see them. Maybe search for akutygerdabahia in yahoo photos?
quarta-feira, abril 06, 2005
Apparently there is a video of the Spartan Riot from April 3rd. I have not yet viewed it, but for those interested, here is the link:
http://www.msu.edu/~kershne2/MSU%20Riots%202k5%20(small).wmv
http://www.msu.edu/~kershne2/MSU%20Riots%202k5%20(small).wmv
Another Spartan loss and another Spartan riot has been in the news. I have to say, I'm not surprised there was police presence and actions, but I am suprised that there was so much action, and so much tear gas. After reading many of the articles, I even went so far as to write a letter for the opinion section, although I doubt they will publish it, since they have to call and confirm the identity of letter writers and I am betting good money that they won't be authorized to call Brasil... In any case, since I thought it was a particularly good letter, I'm posting it here.
After having read several stories about the actions taken by the East Lansing Police, not all of which came from The State News, I have to make comment.
Having attended MSU for the duration of two degrees which included all of the “riot years,” I have experienced my share of gatherings in Cedar Village, most of which were very rowdy, but no more riotous than Carnival in Brazil (and no one here pelts us with tear gas). It is a gathering place for inebriated students to feel that Spartan Spirit, even in the face of defeat. It has been that way for much longer than our university has been known for riots. When there are sporting events, you know what happens in Cedar Village.
This us why I find comments like that of City Manager Ted Staton so ridiculous – “There was a significant amount of money spent to send a message to the crowd. They had unlawfully assembled - that is what happens when people are in places they shouldn't be.” (State News article “Top City Officials Absent for Melee" 4/6/05 at http://www.statenews.com/article.phtml?pk=29507). Everyone, including I hope, the City Manager, knows that students go to Cedar Village. It seems apparent that somewhere between the Final Four entrance celebration there and the Final Four defeat gathering, that someone other than those who gather there (an apparently who wasn’t even in the city at the time) decided it wasn’t a place students were supposed to be. Well, golly gee sir, where should they go then? To the bars that closed at 12:30? On to campus to study like good little scholars? Home to their dorms to be calm and collected? One must realize how ridiculous that assumtion is. Many had to vacate their apartments in Cedar Village due to the tear gas. Where should they have gone? Maybe if someone had informed the students that Cedar Village was no longer a place they could be before hand, the city could have saved a little money, eh?
What I really suspect happened here is the assumption that a Final Four loss would result in a similar outcome to that which occurred back in 1999. This was not a "just cause" reaction. This was a “pre-emptive” strike. And like some others so famously discussed before, an unnecessary one.
After having read several stories about the actions taken by the East Lansing Police, not all of which came from The State News, I have to make comment.
Having attended MSU for the duration of two degrees which included all of the “riot years,” I have experienced my share of gatherings in Cedar Village, most of which were very rowdy, but no more riotous than Carnival in Brazil (and no one here pelts us with tear gas). It is a gathering place for inebriated students to feel that Spartan Spirit, even in the face of defeat. It has been that way for much longer than our university has been known for riots. When there are sporting events, you know what happens in Cedar Village.
This us why I find comments like that of City Manager Ted Staton so ridiculous – “There was a significant amount of money spent to send a message to the crowd. They had unlawfully assembled - that is what happens when people are in places they shouldn't be.” (State News article “Top City Officials Absent for Melee" 4/6/05 at http://www.statenews.com/article.phtml?pk=29507). Everyone, including I hope, the City Manager, knows that students go to Cedar Village. It seems apparent that somewhere between the Final Four entrance celebration there and the Final Four defeat gathering, that someone other than those who gather there (an apparently who wasn’t even in the city at the time) decided it wasn’t a place students were supposed to be. Well, golly gee sir, where should they go then? To the bars that closed at 12:30? On to campus to study like good little scholars? Home to their dorms to be calm and collected? One must realize how ridiculous that assumtion is. Many had to vacate their apartments in Cedar Village due to the tear gas. Where should they have gone? Maybe if someone had informed the students that Cedar Village was no longer a place they could be before hand, the city could have saved a little money, eh?
What I really suspect happened here is the assumption that a Final Four loss would result in a similar outcome to that which occurred back in 1999. This was not a "just cause" reaction. This was a “pre-emptive” strike. And like some others so famously discussed before, an unnecessary one.
quinta-feira, março 24, 2005
Last night our shower exploded. Actually that was this morning, techinically - around 5 AM, but seeing as we had not slept yet, it seems like last night. Seeing that we (or rather O Maridão since our workplace has seen it fit to give me almost NO hours, knowing we need the money and all) has the next 3 days off from teaching due to the Easter holiday, there was a multiple friends' birthday party last night that we decided to attend. O Maridão saw this as his opportunity to party hard for the first time since graduation (especially since no driving would be done, being that our car is being fixed for countless problems), while I have come down with a cold and upon arrival was reiniciated to the fever and coughing I had had the day before. So he drank some while I rested on one of our friend's beds.
Sometime around 12 AM I felt a tad better and went to rejoin everyone. Meat was passed around, along with many bottles of beer (they even had to do ANOTHER beer run, because they had run out - when we had arrived 2 hours before the fridge was FULL of beer), and everyone seemed to be having a good time. I hung out restlessly, trying to avoid cigarette smoke, and drank an entire liter of water in half an hour. Sometime around 1:30, a birumbau appeared and a man by the name of Lorimbau began playing some traditional songs on it, over the din of the downloaded music of the computer, the portable CD player blaring something else, the television on in the "living" room right off the veranda, and everyone talking. Everyone yelling to hear eachother, will yelling the songs as well, and doing random little dances (no capoeira though), it was getting rather ridiculous. I'm amazed no one else in the building complained about not being able to get to sleep.
By the time I layed down again to rest it was after 2:30 and people were drifting in and out of the living room where I lay, trying to talk to me very quietly over all the noise. This does not work well for non native speakers, and I spent most of the conversations asking people to repeat what they had said because despite reading lips helping my listening comprehension, I DO have to hear you to understand you. Most people got tired of it quickly and went back outside where the air was more livre.
O Maridão woke me up and stumbled about around 4 AM, and we caught a ride home with his cousine (taxi's got enough of our money for one day). Somehow drunk men take longer to pee than women, and we finally got out the door and into the car at about 4:30. Anyone who has taken care of a drunk loved one will know it is really hard to do when that loved one weighs more than you, especially when you yourself are not feeling well. After some prodding, I got O Maridão to go upstairs to take a shower while I made him something to eat.
In the midst of pouring water into a glass, I heard a strange "buzz buzt buzt" sound. It sounded very much like when the street light out back was having issues with rain and sparking and sputtering. I stopped and listened for it again. Then I called O Maridão, suddenly worried that the shower he was in had blown up. He answered. I asked him what the noise was. He asked ME what the noise was. I came up stairs and he stood there dripping in the hallway while we debated what the sound had been. It was not the shower he was in. Nothing had been running down stairs except the light in the kitch and the gas stove. Nothing had been running upstairs except the hallway light. A light had been flashing in the pool area for weeks. It was now out. That must have been it, I summerized. But why could we smell it so well?
We turned on lights in various rooms, and finally happened into our own bathroom, full of smoke (this all took about 10 seconds). Some years ago, this shower head had blown up while he was in it, I have been told. Shortly there after he had an electrician come in to fix it and install a ground wire that runs all the way down the outside wall of the condo into the ground. This type of feature is almost unheard of in this country for some reason, possibley because showers don't blow up that often. You'd think when you are using a normal electrical current to heat up water that is passing over your naked body into a large puddle of water on the floor to go down a metal drain, that it would have occured to some engineer that the safety of the contraption was in question. Not so. In any case, because of our ground wire, the shower head didn't blow up itself, just the electrical part did, showering the wall in black goo and filling the bathroom with electrical fire smelling smoke. So, the ground did it's job. Question is, WTF is wrong with our wiring that in a country that showers don't blow up very often, it happened to ours TWICE? It's like a revisit to a guy I dated in highschool who's house burned down, TWICE. What are the odds of that happening?
The other pecularity is that there was no apparent reason for it to blow up. It wasn't turned on, there was no water running in it, no one had even been in there for at least 24 hours. No power grubbing appliances were being run, like the microwave, at the same time. There only power being used on the upstairs circut was from the hallway light. A 60 watt bulb. The mystery remains. Needless to say, no one is going to use that shower until I am satisfied with. And I think that's going to take someone REALLY professional (I'm talking electrical engineer here) comming in and checking the wiring. It might even involve breaking into the wall a bit. At this point I'm even afraid to pee in there, so something has to be done. And I have to pee a lot. At wierd hours.
Sometime around 12 AM I felt a tad better and went to rejoin everyone. Meat was passed around, along with many bottles of beer (they even had to do ANOTHER beer run, because they had run out - when we had arrived 2 hours before the fridge was FULL of beer), and everyone seemed to be having a good time. I hung out restlessly, trying to avoid cigarette smoke, and drank an entire liter of water in half an hour. Sometime around 1:30, a birumbau appeared and a man by the name of Lorimbau began playing some traditional songs on it, over the din of the downloaded music of the computer, the portable CD player blaring something else, the television on in the "living" room right off the veranda, and everyone talking. Everyone yelling to hear eachother, will yelling the songs as well, and doing random little dances (no capoeira though), it was getting rather ridiculous. I'm amazed no one else in the building complained about not being able to get to sleep.
By the time I layed down again to rest it was after 2:30 and people were drifting in and out of the living room where I lay, trying to talk to me very quietly over all the noise. This does not work well for non native speakers, and I spent most of the conversations asking people to repeat what they had said because despite reading lips helping my listening comprehension, I DO have to hear you to understand you. Most people got tired of it quickly and went back outside where the air was more livre.
O Maridão woke me up and stumbled about around 4 AM, and we caught a ride home with his cousine (taxi's got enough of our money for one day). Somehow drunk men take longer to pee than women, and we finally got out the door and into the car at about 4:30. Anyone who has taken care of a drunk loved one will know it is really hard to do when that loved one weighs more than you, especially when you yourself are not feeling well. After some prodding, I got O Maridão to go upstairs to take a shower while I made him something to eat.
In the midst of pouring water into a glass, I heard a strange "buzz buzt buzt" sound. It sounded very much like when the street light out back was having issues with rain and sparking and sputtering. I stopped and listened for it again. Then I called O Maridão, suddenly worried that the shower he was in had blown up. He answered. I asked him what the noise was. He asked ME what the noise was. I came up stairs and he stood there dripping in the hallway while we debated what the sound had been. It was not the shower he was in. Nothing had been running down stairs except the light in the kitch and the gas stove. Nothing had been running upstairs except the hallway light. A light had been flashing in the pool area for weeks. It was now out. That must have been it, I summerized. But why could we smell it so well?
We turned on lights in various rooms, and finally happened into our own bathroom, full of smoke (this all took about 10 seconds). Some years ago, this shower head had blown up while he was in it, I have been told. Shortly there after he had an electrician come in to fix it and install a ground wire that runs all the way down the outside wall of the condo into the ground. This type of feature is almost unheard of in this country for some reason, possibley because showers don't blow up that often. You'd think when you are using a normal electrical current to heat up water that is passing over your naked body into a large puddle of water on the floor to go down a metal drain, that it would have occured to some engineer that the safety of the contraption was in question. Not so. In any case, because of our ground wire, the shower head didn't blow up itself, just the electrical part did, showering the wall in black goo and filling the bathroom with electrical fire smelling smoke. So, the ground did it's job. Question is, WTF is wrong with our wiring that in a country that showers don't blow up very often, it happened to ours TWICE? It's like a revisit to a guy I dated in highschool who's house burned down, TWICE. What are the odds of that happening?
The other pecularity is that there was no apparent reason for it to blow up. It wasn't turned on, there was no water running in it, no one had even been in there for at least 24 hours. No power grubbing appliances were being run, like the microwave, at the same time. There only power being used on the upstairs circut was from the hallway light. A 60 watt bulb. The mystery remains. Needless to say, no one is going to use that shower until I am satisfied with. And I think that's going to take someone REALLY professional (I'm talking electrical engineer here) comming in and checking the wiring. It might even involve breaking into the wall a bit. At this point I'm even afraid to pee in there, so something has to be done. And I have to pee a lot. At wierd hours.
quinta-feira, março 17, 2005
segunda-feira, fevereiro 28, 2005
Yeah, so I haven't kept that new web page updated yet. I've been busy. This week and last week there is/was testing for placement at work, and since they haven't given me any groups to teach during the week (only one on Saturday), I have been raking in the extra hours to try to help feed us. Too bad it will all be over in a week, and then I have to go back to being left out at home. The cats will like it though. They get all cute and fuzzy and purry when you spend the afternoon laying around with them.
Being pregnant gives me distinct memories of that horrible Alien movie that I saw when I was too young to see it (not to self, do not let Juliãn watch horror movies before he is 10). I can sit here and watch this lump move around under my skin. It's quite facinating, and not at all distressing, but then I remember those scenes of Sigorne Weaver and the strange moving thing in her stomach, before it shoots out of her and attacks someone. I wonder why the writers of that movie decided to put that kind of parody into it. I'm sure, somewhere out there, there were some really offended pregnant women. Maybe the writer was a guy who really wasn't happy about being father. Maybe he was creeped out by being punched or kicked by his child to be through it's mother's belly while he was trying to do something kinky. Maybe he was likening the moving thing in the belly as the thing that destroyes or takes away your life, in a symbolic sense, so took it literally here instead. All in all, it is an unfortunate comparison, after having experienced it my self. I recommend having an alien in your belly. I've heard that's what some babies look like when they come out too, like small cone heads. So the comparison goes on.
I have been in and out (mostly in) my place of work for more than 12 hours now. It's starting to get to me, especially since someone's cell phone keeps ringing in here, the same one about every 3 minutes, as if the person calling doesn't really believe that that teacher is really teaching, but that she is actually standing here, staring at the phone, refusing to answer it. I had thought to look for it and answer it myself just to tell them that who ever they are calling really isn't here, so there is not point in wasting their money and energy on calling them back repeatedly. But if I did that, I wouldn't have anything to write about, now would I? There it goes again...
Nothing else terribley exciting is really happening here these days. Maybe that will change later in the semester. I was really wanting to go eat some cake at the snack bar, but it closed early. No cake for me. (The phone is ringing again) I have replaced my caffeen addiction with one for chocolate (another great source of caffeen), so lack of cake is sort of a crisis. I'm going to go home and have some chocolate milk.
Being pregnant gives me distinct memories of that horrible Alien movie that I saw when I was too young to see it (not to self, do not let Juliãn watch horror movies before he is 10). I can sit here and watch this lump move around under my skin. It's quite facinating, and not at all distressing, but then I remember those scenes of Sigorne Weaver and the strange moving thing in her stomach, before it shoots out of her and attacks someone. I wonder why the writers of that movie decided to put that kind of parody into it. I'm sure, somewhere out there, there were some really offended pregnant women. Maybe the writer was a guy who really wasn't happy about being father. Maybe he was creeped out by being punched or kicked by his child to be through it's mother's belly while he was trying to do something kinky. Maybe he was likening the moving thing in the belly as the thing that destroyes or takes away your life, in a symbolic sense, so took it literally here instead. All in all, it is an unfortunate comparison, after having experienced it my self. I recommend having an alien in your belly. I've heard that's what some babies look like when they come out too, like small cone heads. So the comparison goes on.
I have been in and out (mostly in) my place of work for more than 12 hours now. It's starting to get to me, especially since someone's cell phone keeps ringing in here, the same one about every 3 minutes, as if the person calling doesn't really believe that that teacher is really teaching, but that she is actually standing here, staring at the phone, refusing to answer it. I had thought to look for it and answer it myself just to tell them that who ever they are calling really isn't here, so there is not point in wasting their money and energy on calling them back repeatedly. But if I did that, I wouldn't have anything to write about, now would I? There it goes again...
Nothing else terribley exciting is really happening here these days. Maybe that will change later in the semester. I was really wanting to go eat some cake at the snack bar, but it closed early. No cake for me. (The phone is ringing again) I have replaced my caffeen addiction with one for chocolate (another great source of caffeen), so lack of cake is sort of a crisis. I'm going to go home and have some chocolate milk.
segunda-feira, fevereiro 21, 2005
sexta-feira, fevereiro 18, 2005
I have become a roticery. (I don't even know how to spell that, I hope it's right.) I don't want to be a roticery anymore. Due to stretching ligaments, or rather the fact that they are so loose, they hardly hold anything together like they should now, I imagine I know what people with arthritis feel like. I cannot sleep at night. I just turn over and over (hence the roticery), trying to find a way to sleep that doesn't hurt my aching legs, make me dizzy, or crush my protruding belly. Air conditioning seems to make it even worse, and makes my nose run, so we're not having any of that either. Poor Maridão is feeling so hot these days, I might just have to pity him and go sleep in the hammock some nights. But then again, he still sleeps, even if he's hot. I'm not really sleeping at all these days. It sort of feels like the beginning of the flu, but I know this flu will last another several months, so that's sort of discouraging.
Today we are supposed to have lunch at my Brasilian mom's house. It's like an oven in there, no shade and on the top floor. You just sit there and sweat. I only bother to shower in order to cool off now, but I get hot and thirsty just thinking about being there. At least I don't have to do any dishes. Or cook.
Today we are supposed to have lunch at my Brasilian mom's house. It's like an oven in there, no shade and on the top floor. You just sit there and sweat. I only bother to shower in order to cool off now, but I get hot and thirsty just thinking about being there. At least I don't have to do any dishes. Or cook.
segunda-feira, fevereiro 14, 2005
We have been having a vast amount of winter like rain this summer. At least in the last two weeks. The only difference being that during the summer, much like in Michigan, there is thunder and lightning and you have to run around and unplug everything electronic that you care about, and you should not take showers.
Yesterday, the rain came on so fast and so hard that the main road flooded, or rather the sewer over flowed. Maybe a little of both. Utter chaos ensued apparently, because most of the traffic started coming up our street in the back, including the buses, which alerted us that something was array. We wandered out to take a look and found a stalled car in the middle of a massive lake that covered the road, sewer channel (basically a ditch with a river of pee and poo, covered by some flimsy cement strips that the occasional pivete steals by night), and the newly cleared graveled area across the street. A bit farther up the street were two cars facing the wrong way for the lane they were in, not moving, as well as another car that apparently was trying to back out into traffic from a nearby parking lot and found it's self stuck in the lake. The dead car guy got out and tried to push his car out of the way, in all that brown and warm rain/sewer water, but was unable to move it much by himself. Shortly there after, a bus that was stuck behind him parked and several men got off to help him push it up onto our road and out of the way. With all that water, covering the entire road, in 7 short minutes, it all disappeared into the sewer ditch to run down and flood somewhere else, before being dumped either into a treatment plant (maybe) or into the river and eventually the ocean. As my mother would say "STORM WATER NIGHTMARE" - at least it's not such a worry that the water is warm when it hits the ocean here. The water is warm anyway, it's summer.
I finally updated the belly pictures page, so the gigantizing of my abdomen can be seen by clicking the link on the left. I'm also adding one that I hope to keep updated - very simple, just with random shots of whatever happens during the week. At least that will take less time to do. Check out the "This week in Bahia" link.
Yesterday, the rain came on so fast and so hard that the main road flooded, or rather the sewer over flowed. Maybe a little of both. Utter chaos ensued apparently, because most of the traffic started coming up our street in the back, including the buses, which alerted us that something was array. We wandered out to take a look and found a stalled car in the middle of a massive lake that covered the road, sewer channel (basically a ditch with a river of pee and poo, covered by some flimsy cement strips that the occasional pivete steals by night), and the newly cleared graveled area across the street. A bit farther up the street were two cars facing the wrong way for the lane they were in, not moving, as well as another car that apparently was trying to back out into traffic from a nearby parking lot and found it's self stuck in the lake. The dead car guy got out and tried to push his car out of the way, in all that brown and warm rain/sewer water, but was unable to move it much by himself. Shortly there after, a bus that was stuck behind him parked and several men got off to help him push it up onto our road and out of the way. With all that water, covering the entire road, in 7 short minutes, it all disappeared into the sewer ditch to run down and flood somewhere else, before being dumped either into a treatment plant (maybe) or into the river and eventually the ocean. As my mother would say "STORM WATER NIGHTMARE" - at least it's not such a worry that the water is warm when it hits the ocean here. The water is warm anyway, it's summer.
I finally updated the belly pictures page, so the gigantizing of my abdomen can be seen by clicking the link on the left. I'm also adding one that I hope to keep updated - very simple, just with random shots of whatever happens during the week. At least that will take less time to do. Check out the "This week in Bahia" link.
quinta-feira, fevereiro 03, 2005
I realized I married a crazy man when at a party I witnessed a half hour presentation of an improvisation song about "cofrinhos" - otherwise known as butt cracks. This consisted of each of the men getting up, singing a 4 line contribution that they made up on the spot, pulling down the back of their suits, and dancing the butt crack dance.
More stories later.
More stories later.
quinta-feira, janeiro 20, 2005
My sogra came to visit. Our home becomes a bigger confused mess every day.
Engrish at Salvador's airport:
Rotative parking (I think they mean temporary parking or day parking)
Lot of "axé" music at this carnaval
The book my mother sent 8 weeks ago finally showed up. Juliãn's new game is to kick me where it tickels, just as I am going to sleep. I can see where this is going. At least now I have something more to read at night when he's keeping me awake.
With the help of the sogra, we bought a couch finally. She had a serious conversation with us over breakfast, starting out telling us that she knew it was our home and we did things as we wanted, but there was something that made her very uncomfortable. I thought she was going to talk about us sleeping naked or something, but no, she meant that when people come to visit (her friends specifically), she was very embarresed that they had no where to sit. So, at the prodding of one of them (who seems to be full of shit since she told Zi that she could buy a couch for R$150 at Iguatemi), she volunteered to pay for it. However, when she saw the actual prices of couches here, I had to volunteer to pay for half or so. Here's to credit cards, and friends who are a pain in the ass apparently. The couch is a dark red color and will match very nicely with our long term plans for the room downstairs.
Zi is home now, after a day out with several friends, so I should probably go keep her company, since there is nothing else to do. At least I should get my butt out of this chair and go eat a bannana or something. Inconsolable hunger is one of those draw backs to pregnancy. I am never quite NOT hungry...
Engrish at Salvador's airport:
Rotative parking (I think they mean temporary parking or day parking)
Lot of "axé" music at this carnaval
The book my mother sent 8 weeks ago finally showed up. Juliãn's new game is to kick me where it tickels, just as I am going to sleep. I can see where this is going. At least now I have something more to read at night when he's keeping me awake.
With the help of the sogra, we bought a couch finally. She had a serious conversation with us over breakfast, starting out telling us that she knew it was our home and we did things as we wanted, but there was something that made her very uncomfortable. I thought she was going to talk about us sleeping naked or something, but no, she meant that when people come to visit (her friends specifically), she was very embarresed that they had no where to sit. So, at the prodding of one of them (who seems to be full of shit since she told Zi that she could buy a couch for R$150 at Iguatemi), she volunteered to pay for it. However, when she saw the actual prices of couches here, I had to volunteer to pay for half or so. Here's to credit cards, and friends who are a pain in the ass apparently. The couch is a dark red color and will match very nicely with our long term plans for the room downstairs.
Zi is home now, after a day out with several friends, so I should probably go keep her company, since there is nothing else to do. At least I should get my butt out of this chair and go eat a bannana or something. Inconsolable hunger is one of those draw backs to pregnancy. I am never quite NOT hungry...
sexta-feira, janeiro 14, 2005
The baby's room is painted! We changed our minds about 5 times in the process, but I really like the results. Now, we just need furniture and stuff. I'm sure he will love the colors for some amount of time, and then sometime after 10 years old, he will hate them because they are baby-ish. And then he can paint it any color he likes. In the mean time, it's colors I like, so that's what's important now...
terça-feira, janeiro 11, 2005
quinta-feira, dezembro 30, 2004
Wow, three entries in one week. Can you tell I'm on vacation?
Today, I learned three things.
One: boys should not wear white. When they wear white, they get stuff on it that takes half a bottle of Shout and lots of scrubbing to get out. There is a reason that generally only gay men wear white pants: they don't go playing with two year olds in the dirt and slide around on wood work in them. Julian will not be wearing any white pants, you can bet that.
Two: when doing laundry, make sure that the drainage hose for the washer is in the sink and not BEHIND the sink, lest one create a 10 gallon or more flood in the kitchen, laundry area, and storage area. At least here no one likes to have things touching the floors and they are all tiled, so it's relatively easy to clean up, just a pain in the ass and a little precarious for slipping. Everything that was on the floor waiting to be washed is now soaked and trying to dry in the last sun rays of the day. This includes two especially old and gross pillows which probably will not dry before tomorow. The cats actually tried to tell me about the whole situation at one point - I sat here typing away to mom and they both came in and meowed at me and sat at my feet for some time, but I was too wrapped up in the conversation to notice what they were telling me. Eventually, they went to lay down in the other room, figuring if I didn't care, they wouldn't either.
Which leads us to number three: Always pay attention to your cats' messages. Especially if more than one of them is trying to get your attention for some reason. They are fuzzy and close to the ground, but not stupid and could save your life one day. Or at least 45 minutes of your valuable time from being used to clean up gallons of soapy water.
Today, I learned three things.
One: boys should not wear white. When they wear white, they get stuff on it that takes half a bottle of Shout and lots of scrubbing to get out. There is a reason that generally only gay men wear white pants: they don't go playing with two year olds in the dirt and slide around on wood work in them. Julian will not be wearing any white pants, you can bet that.
Two: when doing laundry, make sure that the drainage hose for the washer is in the sink and not BEHIND the sink, lest one create a 10 gallon or more flood in the kitchen, laundry area, and storage area. At least here no one likes to have things touching the floors and they are all tiled, so it's relatively easy to clean up, just a pain in the ass and a little precarious for slipping. Everything that was on the floor waiting to be washed is now soaked and trying to dry in the last sun rays of the day. This includes two especially old and gross pillows which probably will not dry before tomorow. The cats actually tried to tell me about the whole situation at one point - I sat here typing away to mom and they both came in and meowed at me and sat at my feet for some time, but I was too wrapped up in the conversation to notice what they were telling me. Eventually, they went to lay down in the other room, figuring if I didn't care, they wouldn't either.
Which leads us to number three: Always pay attention to your cats' messages. Especially if more than one of them is trying to get your attention for some reason. They are fuzzy and close to the ground, but not stupid and could save your life one day. Or at least 45 minutes of your valuable time from being used to clean up gallons of soapy water.
terça-feira, dezembro 28, 2004
I am supposed to sleep now, and the baby is super active. Then, when I am resting during the day, he's all quiet and composed. Mom says he's playing soccor. In the last five minutes, he has kicked me in at least 6 different places a dozen or so times. I was going to go to bed, but it may be a waste of time...
domingo, dezembro 26, 2004
See this is the problem with procrastination. With all the extra time on my hands, and not having written anything for so damn long, it's always the issue of what's the problem with waiting a little longer... Part of my excuse is due to my computer crashing right at the end of the semester and I am still not back online with it yet. It's just so depressing every time I turn it on and have to remember how much work I have lost and have to redo in terms of installing programs etc. And things are not working right that used to work. Ug, I have to stop thinking about it.
Xmas has come and gone, like any other day here, still like being eternally stuck in a hot Michigan August. Since it's actually celebrated on the 24th, it was rather uneventful. The 24th consisted of many visits to other people's houses, including one where Meuamor played Papai Noel (=Santa Clause) for about 25 kids who were so incredibley excited about his visit that he wants to do it again next year. Actual Xmas day was spent sleeping in due to said late arrival of Santa then delaying our return home until 3 A.M., and then being proptly woken up by Marina singing Bob Marley on the answering machine in an attempt to encourage our arrival at the beach. This was a necessary trip because of Kerido Kevin's family visiting, but by the time we arrived, they were actually leaving, so we headed to another beach and met up with several parts of the family with whom Santa visited (including some of the kids who were surprisingly convinced that he DOES exist) and spent the rest of the afternoon going in and out of the water to cool off, seeing a lovely sunset over Pituba, and then joining the rat race journey back to our humble, toasty abode. Watching movies with cats is how I spent my Xmas evening - how bout you?
Today we are back to the "virgo" mode of organizing and cleaning the house up for painting and such that is to be done before the end of the year (fat chance), but at least it's getting rid of a lot of crap that is sitting in the storage room. There is just boxes of stuff in there to give to street people or anyone who comes to the gate to ask for something. And none of it will be taking up the valueable space anymore. Its very liberating for everyone but the cats who have been shut up in the bedroom all day because of all the open doors and dust. So now they only get to sleep all day in one room instead of in several rooms. Hasn't seemed to phase them at all.
The baby is a BOY! And I think we may even have settled on a name: Julian. I think. I like it. Meuamor is "digesting" it. He likes to be awake when I am going to bed and kick me in the bladder when I really have to pee. And in the father like son sense, at 4:30 A.M. when Meuamor is flopping around like a fish in bed, the baby is doing a very similar motion in my belly, and I lay there thinking "there are two of them in bed with me" and cannot get back to sleep. The cats have not yet really noticed much of a difference I think. When they do will most likely be when he comes home from the hospital and they never forgive me for bringing this small, hairless other wierd looking cat into their home. Actually, I am sure they will forgive me, but boy are they in for a shocker. They are both deathy afraid of miniature people, especially when they are big enough to move around and try to touch them.
It's 11:45 here, and I should go be a good wife and try to help get all that shit we dragged out back inside in some fashion. This will go on until 2 A.M. if I don't give him a "pila" somehow, I fear.
Xmas has come and gone, like any other day here, still like being eternally stuck in a hot Michigan August. Since it's actually celebrated on the 24th, it was rather uneventful. The 24th consisted of many visits to other people's houses, including one where Meuamor played Papai Noel (=Santa Clause) for about 25 kids who were so incredibley excited about his visit that he wants to do it again next year. Actual Xmas day was spent sleeping in due to said late arrival of Santa then delaying our return home until 3 A.M., and then being proptly woken up by Marina singing Bob Marley on the answering machine in an attempt to encourage our arrival at the beach. This was a necessary trip because of Kerido Kevin's family visiting, but by the time we arrived, they were actually leaving, so we headed to another beach and met up with several parts of the family with whom Santa visited (including some of the kids who were surprisingly convinced that he DOES exist) and spent the rest of the afternoon going in and out of the water to cool off, seeing a lovely sunset over Pituba, and then joining the rat race journey back to our humble, toasty abode. Watching movies with cats is how I spent my Xmas evening - how bout you?
Today we are back to the "virgo" mode of organizing and cleaning the house up for painting and such that is to be done before the end of the year (fat chance), but at least it's getting rid of a lot of crap that is sitting in the storage room. There is just boxes of stuff in there to give to street people or anyone who comes to the gate to ask for something. And none of it will be taking up the valueable space anymore. Its very liberating for everyone but the cats who have been shut up in the bedroom all day because of all the open doors and dust. So now they only get to sleep all day in one room instead of in several rooms. Hasn't seemed to phase them at all.
The baby is a BOY! And I think we may even have settled on a name: Julian. I think. I like it. Meuamor is "digesting" it. He likes to be awake when I am going to bed and kick me in the bladder when I really have to pee. And in the father like son sense, at 4:30 A.M. when Meuamor is flopping around like a fish in bed, the baby is doing a very similar motion in my belly, and I lay there thinking "there are two of them in bed with me" and cannot get back to sleep. The cats have not yet really noticed much of a difference I think. When they do will most likely be when he comes home from the hospital and they never forgive me for bringing this small, hairless other wierd looking cat into their home. Actually, I am sure they will forgive me, but boy are they in for a shocker. They are both deathy afraid of miniature people, especially when they are big enough to move around and try to touch them.
It's 11:45 here, and I should go be a good wife and try to help get all that shit we dragged out back inside in some fashion. This will go on until 2 A.M. if I don't give him a "pila" somehow, I fear.
quinta-feira, novembro 11, 2004
I now have a CPF, which means I am officially recognized and trackable by the Brasilian government. Health insurance card came too. Just in time for all my mountain of blood tests etc that one must get when pregnant. Unfortunately, to prevent fraud and the like, things like ultrasounds are not covered until January, and things like the delivery procedure are not covered until August (I think the baby will not wait that long, so....).
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