And so it was that they lost the game and went home! Argghhh.  So unpredictable is the Italian game that, amongst sparkles of brilliance, sometime they mess up. Badly. They gave the game away to Spain, they really did. Italy didn’t play badly. Not at all. They just didn’t play and Spain took advantage, of course. As you do when you are in a competition. Maybe the word ‘competition’ escaped my fellow countrymen. Maybe they forgot the meaning of it. All I know is that every Italian with an azzurro heart (quite a few of us) were gutted. Now I am supporting Russia. They had a brilliant game vs Holland and I think they deserve to win. Turkey is not bad either if it wasn’t for the fact that the Coach cannot find enough players for his team. But that’s another story! England didn’t qualify, so my choice for supporting Russia can be fully explained and justified. Go Russia, Go.

Well, ain’t I a lucky girl? Tonight Italy has a vital match with France to stay (or piss off) into the Euro 2008 competition. Where will I be? Flying to Germany…argghhhhh….yeah, I’ll get the results alright with frantic exchange of sms from friends and family, but it is hardly the same thing as watching the game is it. I am sticking my neck out here and predict that Italy will win 2-1. My French friend doesn’t agree, but hey, that’s alright. Now if we lose, I have NO doubt that my French friend will not let me forget this prediction (or the game) for one nanosecond…
Forza Azzurri, forza, forza. Please.

Not a word on the previous match vs Holland or you are dead!
Euro 2008

Bonjour, c’est ma première ‘post’ en français. Veuillez pardonner les erreurs. J’aime de pratiquer mon français ou je le perdrai complètement…Je me demande pourquoi mes amis ou personnes lisent le ‘blog’ mais ne va commenter!

Voulez-vous commenter, vous voulez-vous parler avec moi ? Quelle est votre vie ? Dites-moi quelque chose que vous voulez.

Vous détestez ou aimez cette blog?

(écrivez les commentaires en français).

A bientot…

Today time stands still. It just doesn’t seem to do its usual tick-toc. What’s going on. I don’t know if this has anything to do with the fact that I am reading one of the worst books ever: The Da Vinci Code. I know, I know, Mr Dan Brown must have an army of fans out there, but honestly, I am struggling with this one. I love my reading. A lot. The only book so far I didn’t manage to finish was ‘The Street Lawyer’ by J Grisham (another boring author!). It looks like Dan Brown will join him soon. I love the story. I just can’t get passed the fact that it’s written very very badly. I am trying to enjoy it, but the style is so childish and predictable, I don’t know how long will I last. For God’s sake, how can an awful book like this make it to a best-sellers’ list? I mean, if you really want to read something good, then what about Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie? Yeah, the name is a bit complicated to remember, but her books are astonishing. http://www.l3.ulg.ac.be/adichie/
I’ve read ‘Half of a Yellow Sun’ and that’s what I call: a proper author (an authentic story-teller) and a proper book! Not The Da Vinci Code, however much I like history etc etc. Each to their own, yes. Who am I, to tell you what to read or what to like/dislike. But if you really want to read a book that will open your eyes and change your perception on historical events, that Half of a Yellow Sun is for you my friend. As for me, I’ll go to the bookshop and buy her other novel: Purple Hibiscus, after I have ditched Mr Dan Brown’s regurgitating book.

Ah, does the title intrigue you? Well, it should do. It’s all to do with a dinner I went last saturday. Nothing special about that. The dinner was organized by a social club I recently joined. I turned up at the restaurant at 7.30pm on the dot, as agreed. Only to walk in and find that all by one of the diners had already taken position at the table, chosen the menu’ and ordered the drinks. I was received with a sniffy expression of ‘oh, she has finally arrived!’. I looked around and for a moment I thought I got it all wrong. In fact, that was the restaurant, those were the people and I did get it spectacularly wrong in deciding to join in that particular meal. The problems? Apart from the fact that the restaurant resembled a stage set 1980’s style (gerish colours, outdated furniture, you get the drift), the other diners were, well, a bit old…I am not a spring chicken at 39, but I mean, the others were in their 60s, 70s and yes - wait for it - 80s! I am NOT kidding you. I don’t normally discriminate on the ground of age, but you see, I was expecting a younger age group. That’s not all. Having arrived almost last, the only seat left for me to take was opposite the older member of the gang, a retired professor, aged 83 and counting. I sat down thinking: do I leave now or do I give this man a chance and see what happens? Since these days I am challenging myself with new things, I decided to stay. What a good decision that was, too. Apart from all other diners (two women were yawning the all time, I swear), the old professor proved to be one of the most intelligent individual I have ever met. And so we spent an entire evening chatting and giggling and cracking jokes. We spent hours telling each others stories about our travels, funny anedoctes, foreign languages (he speaks a few of those, like me); I must admit I was taken back by the fact that the evening flew by. The others were left commenting and wondering what we had to say to each other and more importantly, what was oh-so-funny! Needless to say, there wasn’t any clubbing afterwards; everyone went home at 11.00. But I must say, I found myself sitting on a bus going home and giggling at some of the jokes me and The Professor had made over dinner. Will I see him again? I don’t think so. I don’t think I am his type Was he my perfect man? Well, 50 years ago, my dear, quite possibly. Today? Noaaa. Somehow I think that’s a pity.

Do-Do-Do, sorpresa!

Beh, qualcosa in italiano ci mancava, no? Allora, ricevuto commenti da amici brasiliani: ah, ma il blog e’ in inglese!’ e prima che gli italiani (amici e famiglia) protestino, eccomi qui. E senno’ chi vi sente, che io parlo inglese e piu’ spesso il portoghese piuttosto che l’italiano. Mi scuso in anticipo per gli errori di grammatica; capita quando si vive all’estero da molto tempo. Dunque, la mia vita al momento e’ piena di cose da fare, sempre di corsa, forse piu’ del solito. Oggi a casa a mandare contratti a clienti (in Brasile, si’!). Stasera serata tranquilla a casa, di fronte alla TV. Speriamo ci sia un film decente. Almeno quello. Domani in palestra, poi bisogna che faccio pulizie di casa (non e’ il massimo della vita, suvvia) e domani sera a cena con il social club. Eh, si’. Mi ci mancava questa. Sono iscritta da poco ad un club che organizza di tutto di piu’. Dalle serate al ristorante, al teatro, gite fuori citta’, balli e cose varie. Domani sera si va ad un ristorante filippino. Mai stata, sono curiosa. Giovedi’ prossimo a teatro. E’ un teatro all’aperto, portiamo anche qualche stuzzico da mangiare - nel mio caso, porzioni ben grandi - e via! Domenica incontro Elke. Non la vedo dai giorni dell’Arca di Noe’. Si va ad una mostra, poi a cena in un ristorante giapponese (ripetitiva questa cosa del cibo, eh? Fateci l’abitudine, io sono cosi’). La settimana prossima non avro’ tempo nemmeno per respirare. Lunedi sera lezione di kung-fu (oddio, si’, ho iniziato anche questa), martedi & mercoledi palestra e lavoro su business, giovedi’ teatro come detto, venerdi lavoro da casa. Sabato incontro la mia carissima amica finlandese per pranzo (si’ mangio di nuovo, si) poi in serata arriva PierrePirata dall’Italia. Hurray. Sono due anni che non ci vediamo e non vedo l’ora che arrivi. Proprio non vedo l’ora! Domenica ho organizzato una sorpresa per lui in centro. Sono sicuro che sara’ contento, ci conosciamo bene e so cosa gli piace fare a Londra…per ora manteniamo il segreto, non voglio rovinare la sorpresa. Spero tanto che in un futuro prossimo PierrePirata torni a vivere a Londra. Questa citta’ gli appartiene, come appartiene a me. E chissa’ che il futuro prossimo non sia piu’ prossimo di quanto crediamo. Lo conosco bene io, il Pirata. Quando ha un’idea che frulla per la testa, e’ gia’ un business ancor prima di parlarne. Imprenditore nato, il nostro Pirata! Io ho funzione di Consigliere Capo, da sempre. Ricerca di mercato, valutazione dati e quant’altro. Eh si’, per gli amici questo ed altro. Ordunque, dilemma: cosa mangio per cena? No, perche’ il frigo e’ quasi vuoto. Spesa si fa domani e nemmeno come al solito, visto che la settimana prossima a casa ci sono pochissimo. E allora? Stasera che si fa? Spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoncino? Non so proprio…non ho nemmeno una bottiglia di vino rosso per accompagnare. Mannaggia a me e l’ossessione di lavorare, lavorare, lavorare. Ecco, adesso? Mah. Vediamo se solo il fatto di entrare in cucina mi ispira, vah! Comunque a parte tutto, l’idea della pasta mi tenta un bel po’…eh si. Il lupo cambia il pelo…o magari lo perde, vah.

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl “Will you marry me?”

The girl said”NO!” and she lived happily ever-after and went shopping, dancing,
camping, drank margaritas, always had a clean house, never had to cook,
did whatever the hell she wanted, never argued, didn’t get fat,
travelled more, had many lovers, didn’t save money, and had all the hot
water to herself.  She went to the theatre, never watched sports, never
wore friggin’ lacy lingerie that went up her ass, had high self esteem,
never cried or yelled, felt and looked fabulous in sweat pants and was
pleasant all the time.  

The End

PS: Before you ask, no, it didn’t happen to me.

I am still alive. Lower back aches a bit and so do the legs, but I have actually survived my first martial arts’ class. When they said that Soft Style was like tai-chi I did expect the Western Tai-Chi we all bump into, from time to time. Huh, how wrong I was. I was not the only one to get it spectacularly wrong. I am happy to say I was in good company. There was another ‘total beginner’ in the class. Pfiu’. We started with 15 minutes warm-up and this alone could have killed both of us. Honestly. The stretching was so strenuous, we were sweating and looking at each other in complete amazement. Then the lesson started. Apart from the fact that I am the most un-coordinated person to walk this Planet, it was fine. I was rubbish at it, but it was fine. I loved every minute and I can’t wait to go back. Tonight I am off to the gym and, after my usual routine, practise my moves. Isn’t it great. I get to say: I am practising my moves…cooool. On another matter, back to stretching: I thought I knew my body, but there’s the thing, I don’t. I did exercises yesterday to awake obscure muscles. God only knows where this will lead me. To Hell and back, probably. Enjoy the journey, will you? Must be good to be a spectator.

Bom dia, OK, o post em portugues, depois que recebi emails/comentarios do meus amigos brasileiros, sobre ‘o blog e’ em ingles!’…eh, queridos, eh sim em ingles…agora estou a esperar que os italianos me vao comentar a mesma coisa. Uff. Bom, hoje, segunda feira, fico um pouco melhor. Muito cinica sobre a questiao dos homems. Eu nunca vou apprender nada sobre isso assunto. Nao entendo como chego sempre no mesmo ponto: sofrendo por um homen que nao meresse. Porque nao meresse, acredita. Esta vez, nao vou chegar no ponto de nao retorno! Vou revoltar. Nao e’ justo que eu sou sempre aquela que sofre. Agora essa historia va acabar. Nao posso mudar que os homems nao sao fieis, vou mudar a minha atitude com eles. Todos amigos, mas ninguem va chegar perto do meu coracao. No way! Amo um homem que nao sei aondje esta’, gosto d’um outro que gosta de todas outras mulheres do mundo e a solucao melhor e’: mantenher o coração para mim mesmo. Ja’ pensei de fazer isso em Fevereiro, mas agora estou muito mais determinada. Estou cansada de sofrir. E’ so’ isso.