Wednesday, March 23, 2011

A new tweet - Living with Joshua

Versão reduzida a 140 toques para caber no Twitter: "Cantei a música do lobo mau. Josh quis mingau. Comeu com gosto, pediu mais. Aí enjoou e disse que era errado comer criancinhas."

- Joshua thinks Farinha Láctea é feita de criancinhas
- Mesmo assim, Joshua comeu mingau e só parou porque enjoou.
-Teve a cara de pau de falar que é errado comer mingau por causa das criancinhas - mas isso só depois da 2a. pratada.

Viva a Farinha Láctea! Com ou sem leite condensado, um clássico da minha infância!

Sunday, July 25, 2010

My avatar

This avatar was produced during the Braz Tesol Conference in São Paulo, in July 2010. Not bad, I think, considering it was made in about 1 minute. I'll post some of my friends' versions of me as well. Although they are not at all flattering. Well, neither is the avatar.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

These are the ever so whimsical rainbow cupcakes we produced sometime in May, 2010. Besides being pretty, they tasted goooood!

Sunday, June 06, 2010

The one and quirky Oliver Jeffers




Because I like his face.

Registering new discoveries: The quirky Oliver Jeffers




It's on my ever growing book wish list: Oliver Jeffers books. He wrote things like 'The incredible book eating boy' (where the above illustration was taken from), 'Lost and Found', 'How to catch a star', ' The way back home'.
And he's funny, and has a huge, theatrical moustache. If you type up ' Oliver Jeffers ' ('course, that's his name) in YouTube, you'll find some footage of him in his studio, published by Penguin Young Readers. Cool stuff. It's lovely to hear him talk, too, because he comes from Northern Ireland. Go meet him.

Neil Gaiman's New Year Benediction

May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books, and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art. Write, or draw, or build, or sing, or live, as only you can.

May your coming year be a wonderful thing, in which you dream both dangerously and outrageously. I hope you'll make something that didn't exist before you made it; that you will be loved, and you will be liked; and you will have people to love and to like in return. And most importantly, because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now, I hope that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind. And I hope that somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Post de Aniversário

J. baked a batch of cookies and made some frosting. I dyed a little of the frosting blue, and played baker for a while. The decorated cookies looked really lovely, but J. remarked my tongue and lips were blue. So I brought the cookies and the (plain) frosting, and this is what I've been serving my friends from work. The cookies are always a hit, and we got an order already! Happy birthday to me! It's raining out - again. But B. gave me a book that made me laugh out loud this morning. I have cookies and frosting and half a bar of chocolate on my desk. Life is good.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010




Platypus in a field of flowers (Dec 2009).
Parece que eu bebo, né?

The art of Not Trying to Catch Up

Meu último post é de 4 de novembro do ano passado. Um dos meus dois únicos leitores me chamou a atenção. A verdade é que eu me sinto culpada por não ter escrito nada sobre um montão de coisas, que acabo não escrevendo nada. Puxa, eu penso, antes de falar do que está rolando agora, preciso falar da nossa procura por uma escola nova para a TJ, o que o pessoal da Fundação falou do desempenho dela, as últimas do Josh, tatuagens, família, amigos. Natal. Ano novo. Férias. O motorista de ônibus que me adotou. O alegre ônibus das 6.22 da manhã. Aniversários. Sexo. Livros - meu presente de Natal: Graveyard Book, da minha fase Neil Gaiman. Desenhos. Enfim. Aí fico desanimada e não escrevo nada. Então vamos exercitar o desapego. Não é bem essa a palavra, mas é a que eu achei aqui na gaveta e resolvi usar. Vou falando aos poucos, comentando a vida daqui pra frente. Ou daqui pra trás. O que me der na telha. Tá bom assim?
Voltei. Voltei!

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Another grumpy post

6.35 bus to work. Lots of sleepy-looking people. Two teenaged sisters who look exactly alike. A bus driver whose voice is as high-pitched as my 8-year-old daughter's. And a lady whose face keeps eluding me who showers her old self in vanilla perfume. My nose itches in protest.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Update - Too early for something to happen

...except that I've been stood up by my student first thing today. Got out of bed all grumpy this a.m., refused to take a shower. Felt guilty because class wasn't ready, or as ready as I wanted it to be. Re-prepared class from 6.30 t0 7.57. Telephone rang at 7.58. Student canceled class. 'Something has come up'. I bet it has. So there.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Abort! Abort! Abort!

Geek project sinking like the glorious Titanic all those years ago. Three people have already been selected to write 2 daily notes, and three other people (myself included) are still in the selection process. Two, apparently, gave up.
Got the e-mail this morning, prepping me to go ahead and pick two topics to write about. They sent a list. Of topics. To write about.
So I wrote a resignation note already. It's ready to be sent, waiting for me to decide if quitting this gig would make me a quitter. *lol* Not funny, really.
But I think I'll go ahead and quit. The whole process has become tortuous, agonizing, you know, not fun. Rough subjects. Bad week at work, too. Bad week overall.
Too bad, though. I wish it had worked out differently.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Reinventando-me


Olha aonde fui amarrar meu burro: estou estagiando como reporter na Geek, agência de notícias ligadas à tecnologia. Escrevi hoje a primeira nota, e encheram a minha caixa postal de e-mails e respostas e mais respostas. Fiquei passada. As pessoas são muito mais aceleradas do que eu, obviamente, e conseguem ler tudo aquilo, entender, trabalhar em coisas paralelas, responder a todos os e-mails que chegam. Eu produzi um textozinho modesto, e tive alguns problemas técnicos. E aí a gente coloca no blog e abre para críticas. Como diz um dos editores, 'É bom para o caráter'. E o que eu tenho a dizer sobre isso é 'É bom o caralho'. Com todo respeito.



Mas na boa: interagir com pessoas novas, que não me conhecem. Fantástico. Perigosamente libertador, embora hoje tudo que eu consegui ter foi esse sentimento de being overwhelmed... Quero muito que dê certo, e que gostem do meu trabalho. Preciso de concentrar. Focus.

Friday, September 04, 2009

Day Soundtrack : Can't Change Me - Chris Cornell




She can do anything at all
Have anything she pleases
The power to change what she thinks is wrong
What could she want with me yeah

Wait just one minute here
I can see that she´s trying to read me
Suddenly I know

She´s going to change the world
She´s going to change the world
She´s going to change the world
But she can´t change me
No she can´t change me

She has the daylight at her command
She gives the night its dreams yeah
She can uncover your darkest fears
Make you forget you feel them

Wait just one minute more
I can see that she´s trying to free me
Suddenly I know

She´s going to change the world
She´s going to change the world
She´s going to change the world
But she can´t change me
No she can´t change me

Suddenly I can see everything thats wrong with me yeah
What can I do I'm the only thing I really have at all

Wait just one minute here
I can see that she´s trying to need me
Suddenly I know

She´s going to change the world
She´s going to change the world
She´s going to change the world
but she can´t change me
No she can´t change me


Needed some Pearl Jam CDs, so turned to B., my personal consultant for music matters and any other random subject. Alas, B. does not dig Pearl Jam. He did, though, point me in the direction of Chris Cornell (of Soundgarden and Audioslave fame) and suggested that I looked up this song - Can't Change Me. 'It is all about you', he said. And I, for one, am flattered. The song is beautiful, and so are the lyrics. Thanks again, B! And sorry for interrupting your poker game. And yes, 'Like a stone' sounds like Eddie Vedder! AND I still think he's hotter.

Thursday, September 03, 2009

Sir Christopher Croc II

Sir Christopher Croc II is, as you may have already guessed, a crocodile. He's very English (for he was born in Yorkshire) and very proper (for he is, after all, a lord) and he knows you should never laugh while sipping brandy after dining in Buckingham Palace because it comes out of your nose and the Queen does not have that good a sense of humor.

Sir Christopher Croc II is a kind and gentle soul. His great-grandfather once ate the hand of a mean man called Captain Hook, but that was long ago and he had a tummy ache and never ate anybody again.

Sir Christopher Croc II drinks tea and reads big fat books. He goes for long walks late at night when the streets are empty, because people tend to be a little afraid of him, despite his big smile (or because of it).

Now, people have pets, right? Sometimes they have a dog, or a cat, or a bird, or a fish, or a turtle. Crocodiles have pet people. Sir Christopher Croc II has a pet little girl.

He watches over her and tells her crocodile stories and tap dances for her and makes her laugh. She's not afraid of his bulgy eyes or his long, strong tail. In her sleep, she reaches out, grabs him by the nose and cuddles up to him, her binky hanging from her half-opened little mouth. Sir Christopher Croc II sighs contentedly and goes back to sleep. He's never been so happy.

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Mania de letra grande

Agora me deu mania. Os últimos posts têm letras gigantes, deselegantes mesmo. Vou manter porque acho que faz parte do momento em que foram escritos, mas cara, que exagero. Voltemos à economia, à contenção.

De M. Ueda, mestre da delicadeza e das belezas sutis

"... uma princesa japonesa fazia listas...

COISAS BONITAS:
a tinta preta escorrendo pelo papel de arroz após uma pincelada
o último nó do quimono
um pêssego num altar
uma criança dormindo
a fumaça subindo do arroz quente
gelo raspado numa tigela de prata sobre um tecido de seda lilás"

Não é bonito, isso?

Monday, August 31, 2009

One more thing... the best of a good weekend

Joshua hears me comment I'm getting a haircut. He looks at me intently (and it's Sunday morning, and I have pillow hair) and says in his sweet, slow way: 'Mommy, your hair wooks (looks) wovewy (lovely)'. Namastê, dear Josh.

A Vila



A Vila onde moro é um achado: Todo mês de agosto tem a festa da Padroeira na praça central. A festa se estende por 3 fins de semana, e a comunidade toda aparece por lá. A comida não é lá essas coisas, e as prendas da pescaria deixam a desejar, mas a sincera alegria das pessoas que trabalham voluntariamente e a simplicidade do povo da vila sempre me encantam, e a gente sempre dá um pulinho lá.


O último fim de semana do mês de agosto, no entanto, é reservado para a Festa dos Estados, como foi batizada (If you pardon the pun) a festa das igrejas evangélicas do bairro. A família I-Moon, boa de garfo, compareceu. Cada igreja tinha a sua barraquinha, e o entusiasmo e felicidade dos voluntários eram os mesmos nesta festa e na outra (da Padroeira). Nesse quesito, católicos e evangélicos empatam. Talvez encorajados pelo nome da festa, os evangélicos ofereceram mais opções de comida (desde sarapatel, passando por arroz de carreteiro, até queijadinha). Distribuíram algumas mesas e cadeiras na praça e fizeram a festa. A música tocava baixinho, e conseguia-se conversar sem gritar. Só no final da festa é que aumentaram o volume, mas mesmo assim não deu para reclamar: a última banda que tocou era de fato tecnicamente boa, e a bagunça foi encerrada um pouco depois das 11 da noite. Não vimos muitos católicos por lá, o que é uma pena: a comida estava boa, e todo mundo - como na festa católica - parecia estar se divertindo. Deus devia estar sorrindo lá de cima.

Adoro o mês de agosto na Vila. Foi o nosso mês de boas-vindas, e nunca mais quisemos sair de lá.