Nada de Novo, Tudo denovo

Perky

2008-04-28T14:35:00.001-07:00

I have this image in my head
This really perky girl
"Whee!"
She is always smiling
"Yeah, I am good with anything"
She is patient and always answers even the most stupid questions
"I think if it's red you should not park there"
She always has a positive attitude
"But, hey, on the bright side..."
She doesn't mind if people misinterpret facts
"Well, that's not what I said, but I see why she would say that..."
She doesn't mind if everyone is late, or if they never come
"Oh, no worries, I know you guys are busy..."
She never speaks ill of anyone
"Well, you have to try to put yourself in her shoes..."

So I try to be that way.

But sometimes it's really fucking hard.

Porquinhos

2008-04-22T09:44:00.000-07:00

I could hear my dad's excitement over the phone.
A pig in his farm gave birth to 8 piglets. Even neighbors came to see them.
Dad said they were really cute.
He said he was just looking at them run around.
And he thought of me.

My mom collects everything pig. Stuffed animals, pictures...
She says they remind her of me.

I like pigs because they are the cleanest animals in the wild. And yet people think they are dirty, just because the ways we humans chose to keep them in captivity. But the pigs don't care though. They rather be clean, but if dirt is what they have they will live with that.
They are a symbol of making it work with what you got.
They are a symbol of a hardcoreness that I admire.

ELEVEN THOUSAND

2008-04-20T18:55:00.000-07:00

I did the math.
If I bought a pack of cigarettes a day for 11 years - considering I've been smoking since I was 15 - paying 3 dollars for each pack (I averaged this: 2.50$ in Japan then 4$ for a pack of cheap Iranian cigs after I came here).
I have spend 11.000,00 US$ (ELEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS)in cigarettes.
Some might look at this and say that is enough money to buy a used car, or half a down payment for a small condo, almost a year tuition at UC Berkeley or some other shit we need. But I think:
Money well spent.
The countless breaks from boring conversations.
The sure excuse to go outside and be by myself at those horrible parties.
I got to go outside when it was hot.
I got to go outside just because I didn't want to be at Gravity anymore.
Something to do with my hands when all I wanted was to strangle those people.
The nicotine rush after a test.
The taste of cigarettes and coffee in the morning.
The excuse to take a walk, and talk myself out walking away from the office.
Inhaling after orgasms.

I know. I am melodramatic. But I really miss it, you know?

Even though it was killing me and all...

Or maybe Rolling Stones

2008-04-10T14:09:00.000-07:00

You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need

That is the song that came to my mind when she told me she was finally happy.
I know the words don't make sense but I think she was always happy she just didn't know.

I have this thing that I had a song for everyone I know. Now she has hers.

God Made the Pretty Girls Pretty Because He Loved Them More

2008-04-07T09:37:00.001-07:00

http://thislife.org/Radio_Episode.aspx?episode=166

Weekend quotes

2008-04-07T09:28:00.000-07:00

Friends have been talking about people that are
- TOO HONEST
and
- TOO HAPPY?
Can one be too honest or too happy?
no, I am really really asking...

SLUT

2008-04-04T14:06:00.000-07:00

You are a slut!

Is what I would say to the protagonist of an email i got from a friend. Read, if you must:
Dear Friends, once upon a time there was this girl who had
> four boyfriends.
>
> She loved the 4th boyfriend the most and
> adorned him with rich robes and treated him
> to the finest of delicacies. She gave him
> nothing but the best.
>
> She also loved the 3rd boyfriend very much
> and was always showing him off to
> neighboring kingdoms. However, she feared
> that one day he would leave her for another.
>
> She also loved her 2nd boyfriend. He was her
> confidant and was always kind, considerate
> and patient with her. Whenever this girl
> faced a problem, she could confide in him,
> and he would help her get through the
> difficult times.
>
> The girls 1st boyfriend was a very loyal
> partner and had made great contributions in
> maintaining her wealth and kingdom.
> However, she did not love the first boyfriend.
> Although he loved her deeply, she hardly
> took notice of him.
>
> One day, the girl fell ill and she knew her
> time was short. She thought of her luxurious
> life and wondered, I now have four
> boyfriends with me, but when I die, I'll be all
> alone.'
>
>
>
> Thus, she asked the 4th boyfriend, I loved
> you the most, endowed you with the finest
> clothing and showered great care over you.
> Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and
> keep me company?'
>
> 'No way!', replied the 4th boyfriend, and he
> walked away without another word.
>
> His answer cut like a sharp knife right into
> her heart.
>
> The sad girl then asked the 3rd boyfriend, 'I
> loved you all my life. Now that I'm dying, will
> you follow me and keep me company?'
>
> 'No!', replied the 3rd boyfriend. 'Life is too
> good! When you die, I'm going to marry
> someone else!'
>
> Her heart sank and turned cold.
>
> She then asked the 2nd boyfriend, 'I have
> always turned to you for help and you've
> always been there for me.
>
> When I die, will you follow me and keep me
> company?'
>
> 'I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!',
> replied the 2nd boyfriend. 'At the very most,
> I can only walk with you to your grave.'
>
> His answer struck her like a bolt of lightning,
> and the girl was devastated.
>
> Then a voice called out: 'I'll go with you. I'll
> follow you no matter where you go.'
>
>
> The girl looked up, and there was her first
> boyfriend. He was very skinny as he suffered
> from malnutrition and neglect.
>
> Greatly grieved, the girl said, 'I should have
> taken much better care of you when I had the
> chance!'
>
>
> In truth, you have 4 boyfriends in your lives:
>
> Your 4th boyfriend is your body. No matter
> how much time and effort you lavish in
> making it look good, it will leave you when
> you die.
>
> Your 3rd boyfriend is your possessions,
> status and wealth. When you die, it will all go
> to others.
>
> Your 2nd boyfriend is your family and
> friends. No matter how much they have been
> there for you, the furthest they can stay by
> you is up to the grave.
>
>
> And your 1st boyfriend is your Soul. Often
> neglected in pursuit of wealth, power and
> pleasures of the world. However, your Soul
> is the only thing that will follow you where
> ever you go. Cultivate, strengthen and
> cherish it now, for it is the only part of you
> that will follow you throughout Eternity.

You thought this was cute and kinda deep didn't you?
I thought so too, for a brief moment until my inner grinch took over.
- 4 Boyfriends = She is a SLUT
- "Will you die with me?"- Who asks that? = Sellfish SLUT
- You body will leave you when you die? - The body is what is going to take you to the grave!

Dude seriously, just ignore me.

Les Misérables

2008-03-25T08:08:00.000-07:00

"Did you smoke today?"
"No, 4 weeks smoke free!"
"Are you miserable and cranky?"
"No, I am O.K actually...isn't that amazing?"
"Oh, maybe you are miserable and you just don't know it."
...........
"Yeah, maybe....?"

- - - -

Maybe not :)

Conformity

2008-03-24T10:27:00.000-07:00

I was chatting with an Ex- Smoker friend about my recent leap to the non-smoking section. She said she was proud I was doing so well, and she understood how hard it is. And I mentioned to her that, really, it hasn't been that hard.
That got me thinking: the reason it hasn't been that hard for me to quit smoking is because, beyond the chemical addiction, (and believe me I have been a heavy smoker (2 packs a day in high School a pack a day after that)since the age of 14 and if anyone was ever hooked on nicotine it was me) my smoking was about doing what I wanted, when I wanted and after years of peer pressure, anti-smoking marketing, taxes and bla bla bla, I simply tired, I gave up and conformed.
And turns out that conforming is not hard, it does not hurt, it's not a sacrifice.
It is just tolerable. And it's not that I don't want cigarettes anymore, I am just numb.
Before my quitting, when friends mentioned I should quit because it stinks I quietly thought to myself they were sellout, suckers who easily changed who they were to be accepted; when people told me that it was "no longer cool" I always smiled and thought that they were retarded (fucktarded to be precise) if they were still trying to be cool at 23, and on and on - I did all this in my head while smiling and replying "You are right, I should quit" {Fuck you, I am Asian and I will fake nice all I want.}
They were THEY, and I was proudly "I, Mari - The Smoker"
But I am 26, and I live in the US of A. I am bombarded by anti-smoking adds, my doctor and dentist were up my ass, my grandpa has emphysema, and my friends kept bugging me. Not to mentioned my mother in law and other members of Joe's family who talked of "Babies" and "My Smoking" with great disapproval, and hope.
So I give in. That last part of ME.
Quitting smoking hasn't been that hard simply because I am too tired to keep at it.
It's not that I don't want cigarettes anymore, I want to smoke, it's that I accept the fact that I can't always have what I want.
I will always want to smoke, but I will never smoke again.
My quitting smoking is to me what accepting that the person you love will never love you back is to more evolved human beings.
Like so many other things in life, I give up. I am moving on, and growing up.

- - -

And I acknowledge that considering being a Smoker a pillar in my sense of self and identity is kind of sad...But, seriously, it was the best I could do in my early twenties.

Screw you.

2008-03-18T08:56:00.000-07:00

Screw you.

You may detect a slight hint of aggression in my writing hereon. I assure that this anger is not directed specifically at you, however I cannot be held accountable, if at times, this anger seems to be directed at you: dear reader, friend, husband and sister. It is unfortunate and unfair that you have to suffer the consequences of my quitting smoking. Nevertheless, life is not always fair, so here we stand: I am angry and you a here. So duck and cover.

It has been two weeks since that fateful Sunday morning when I woke up face down at the San Francisco Hilton Hotel room 564's toilet bowl. Little did I know my life was about to change - little did you suspect that this change would not be for the best for you. All I knew was that I could not speak because my throat was hurting really really bad from having vomited the whole night.
Long story short, I could not smoke for 2 days. If I experienced any nicotine withdraw it went unnoticed, probably masked by the vomiting, gagging, headache and sensitivity to EVERYTHING brought on by my killer hang over. So comes Tuesday, 48 hours into smoke cessation, and I decided "Maybe I can ride this through and quit."

I had been led to believe by EVERYONE, including stupid TRUTH commercials on fucking MTV, that my life would be better. I would be defying "The Man", I would smell things better - and smell better myself, I would taste things better, I wouldn't get wrinkles and on and on. My friends insisted I would feel better, I would save money, and I would live longer. I was led to believe, I now know, erroneously, things would get BETTER, so imagine my surprise with what happened next.

Things don't taste any better. Yes, sure, I can run longer but my heart rate is never above 145 so it doesn't even count as cardio!! I envy my friend next to me on the same machine sweating, while I shiver thinking "It's cold I think I better run, faster." And worst of all...I am angry. Annoyed. All the time. At everyone.
Why would I want to live longer if all that extra time I get is spent wanting to reach across the office to strangle that co-worker, who before never bothered me, but now drives me insane...cause she walks really, really slow. Or the extra time I have is spent at me not getting over my friend's inability to take constructive criticism.
I am afraid I will turn 81 and still the wondering "Why is she so defensive?"
That extra five years, although cancer free, will surely be spent on dark, unproductive thoughts such as: I really, really already know what a declining market is; can't everyone else see that the economy won't get any better for at least 5 years?; how long do I have to wait until he finishes this sentence?; I wish I could be as entertained by this as you are.

But fear not my friends! I have found the answer for this problem. No, I will not return to cigarettes. From now on I have a new motto:"Drink till it's fun!"
Yes, I will continue to self- medicate, but now with a more socially acceptable drug: Beer.
And if you are thinking: "Oh, no Mari, you can't replace cigarettes with alcohol and/or food: it's bad for you". Or "Why can't you seem to be able to live without addictions?". Or, as my aunt said: "I can't imagine your cousins smoking Mari, it takes a certain personality to be so addicted to something."
I have two words for you:

Screw you.

- - -

All of that being said I am really grateful no one has abandoned me yet. Thanks friends, I think the nicotine withdraw rooted anger will be over within the year. Hang in there, will ya'?

Late night talk

2008-03-14T10:58:00.000-07:00

Mari: "When you finish chiropractor school I am taking 5 years off."
Joe: "5 years? "
Mari:"Yeah, to raise the kids, do YOU wanna raise the kids?"
Joe: "Yeah sure, I'll raise the kids"
Mari:"Ok then...maybe I will go to Law School, then you raise the kids"I said.
Then there was a pause.....
Joe: "I started first" replied Joe.
Mari:"Oh, so what are you calling dibs on the higher income career?"
Laughs....
Joe: "Yeah, I call dibs on Bread Winner Status"
More laughs...
Mari:"Oh Bread Winner I see...more like Cookie Winner"
Evil laugh....
Mari: "Cookie Monster"
Joe: "You are Animal Cracker Monster"
Joe: "Or Koala no March Monster!"
Giggles.
Mari:"Fine...I am taking 5 years off...or MORE"
Click (TV remote) "Oh, the gautlet is on!"....

So it was decided that in the Wong household Mari will be a stay home mom for 5 years. I wonder if when I make the - for now yet unborn- kids read this they will think it's as cute as I do.

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is entirely unintentional.

2008-03-06T08:48:00.000-08:00

Somewhere, far away and over the hill a completely fictional Grandma asks her - entirely creation of my imagination - grandson:
"So how much does mom give you?"
"What do you mean? Mom never gives us money." - responds the puzzled grandson.
"Oh!"- says grandma, "Your sister said your mom helps you with money, for cell phone and the bills."
"No, no mom has never given us money" responds incredibly calm grandson.
This unbelievably serene grandson comes home to his wife and tells her the story in the same way one would say "I bought bread today".
He goes: "My sister has been telling grandma mom gives us money."
His wife - not as good of a person as her husband - curses a little, enough for the husband to grow concern that his wife might try to clarify things with family members and start telling everyone about this unjustified, malicious and undeserving fabrication. So the cautious husband makes his wife pinky swear she will never tell anyone.
Because, and ONLY because, the wife loves the husband DEARLY!!! She swears, and she never tells anyone.
Oh, and they live happily ever after.

.THE END.

Again: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is entirely unintentional.

Night Out

2008-03-02T15:00:00.001-08:00

So I came home at 3 in the afternoon and I was feeling a little better after puking for 3 hours all the 2 shots and a drink that made me commandeer the toilet at the hotel room while friends continued to, as they say, Party Party.
I figured Joe was going to be a bit cranky considering that I wasn't home last weekend and yesterday I left saying - "I will be back early, I think", so to make up for my inconsiderate absence I planned on entertaining him with my "cracker tales" (always wanted to write that, it's from Chris Rock) or more accurately "married girl in mid twenties goes to town in San Francisco with friends to: dance, act offended when people go "you're married? what the fuck are you doing here?", try to be "cool" when questioned "you don't dance? what the fuck are you doing here?", dress up, overpay for diluted drinks, try to get free drinks, spite other people, fight for and conquer parking spots, and release the stress of working in a box all week by lining up to go in a crowded box while kinda, sorta trying to look decent jumping in what is basically a body heat sauna after 12am".
"Wanna hear the drama?" - I asked.
He replied "You fought for a parking spot, you got in free, some guy bought drinks and you had to hang out with idiots all night." - "You guys always do the same thing".
"Yeah, but it's sounds more fun when I tell it."

and now you know you don't know

2008-03-01T19:14:00.000-08:00

Love Story - continuation of Mari's bitching about the gender debate.

2008-02-22T12:45:00.000-08:00

If you have read this blog - bless your heart - or hang out with me during the past weeks you know that I am going through a period of obsession about gender issues.
It's men and women are equal; we are all the same; nurture reinforces stereotypes bla bla bla. I know it's getting old.
While I cannot promise to stop bringing up this issue, I promise that after this blog I will acknowledge that I am a boring, and annoying ass hole for talking about it all the time. Deal?
In any case this blog entry is not about the issue itself. I have annoyed any available ears with my position. That we are the same, there is NO distinction between men and women. And that stereotypes - or as Justin and Fabi call them "roles"-are Bull.
This blog is about my undying love for Joe, and how every once in a while when I am starting to get really annoyed by his irrational hatred of John Stewart, his perpetual war against my books, and his resistance to anything that stimulates contemplation, he redeems himself.
He was watching ESPN and they were talking about Softball pitchers and how they can only throw about 80 miles per hour. Joe was laying on the couch and I was collecting candy rappers, empty juice cans and junk mail from the floor. I glanced at the T.V and commented:
"Is it because guys are stronger than girls?"
"Nah, if you trained a girl from the same age guys train to pitch a baseball they could probably do it too", he said not looking away from the T.V
Here I saw an opportunity. Mind you that Joe and I have NEVER talked about this subject and I saw a window to get his perspective.
I paused with garbage bag in hand and asked: "Do you think men and women are different? Like do you think there is a fundamental, natural difference in how we behave?"
Believe or not I actually held my breath.
What if he shared the views of everyone else?
I didn't have to hold my breath for long.
"No", he answered, still fixed on the screen.
I smiled in relief.
"Right? I knew I wasn't crazy! I have been talking about this gender nature, nurture issue forever and everyone things it's nature; and I think it's nurture. Don't you think it's the stereotypes that reinforce this so called "gender roles"?"
Then Joe looked at me and said: "Why do you think about this stuff?"
He looked back at the T.V and I put the trash bag down and walked over and laid by his side. I knew that this would not lead into a discussion but I smiling anyhow.

Obituary

2008-02-21T09:21:00.000-08:00

Mariana died last week; she was brown - thus, full of shit.

Cidade grande part2

2008-02-12T13:38:00.000-08:00

"We are out of gas dad!" I said.
"It's under control, don't worry about it" He replied smiling.
We had been driving around for 3 hours. Night was settling in Belo Horizonte. We drove while bars opened and park lights turned on revealing Christmas decoration. We drove in the stop and goes traffic dodging families walking to the parks and cabs bringing out the bohemia crowd.
I was in the back seat when I saw the red blink go on.
"We are out of gas dad..."I said
Joe looked at the meter and my dad, noticing Joe’s concern, smiled and waved
"No, no. Gas ok, ok" he gave Joe the thumbs up and laughed in a self agreeable way.
Dad decided to take us to Mirante, the peak of Belo Horizonte from where you can gaze the city night lights. We started heading up in large avenue. As the night fell I noticed girls standing on the side walk. Young and old, pretty and not so, dressed in a variety of colors standing around. I have always looked at prostitutes with respect. They usually ignore me.
And on a steep hill, with traffic behind us the car stopped.
For such a bad driver my dad actually managed to pull over. Next to 3 girls.
They were about to approach us, when they saw my sister and I in the back.
My dad, who had a puzzled look in his eye, said:
"damn, there is something wrong with the car"
"You are out of gas!” my sister and I yelled.
"No, no. There is something else wrong" my dad replied.
He was so convincing I was almost buying it.
Joe got in the chat:” It’s out of gas"
"No, no. Mari, tell Joe it's not gas" my dad replied.
"He is saying it's not the gas, Joe” I translated.
"Yeah it is, you can hear it” Joe said
"Dad, Joe is saying it's the gas" I translated.
"What do we do now?” my sister asked.
"Ok, you and dad stay in the car, and I will go get gas with Joe. I have a cell phone so we will be ok. Wait here” I said getting out.
By this time the girls understood we were having car troubles.They had walked away.
As I left the car and told Joe "the plan" my sister got out of the car and shouted:
"Give me your bag!"
"No, I need the cell phone” I shouted back over the street noise.
"Give me the phone and the bag, you are going to get robbed" She insisted.
"No, I need the phone! I am taking my bag” I said
"Give me the bag! You are going to get mugged" She screamed
"It’s night and I need the phone! I am not going to give you my bag!" I screamed back.
The girls were looking at us annoyed. We were probably scaring away customers.
Joe was looking at us not understanding what we were shouting about in Portuguese. The girls stepped further from us, giving us side glances. And dad looked at the car, and looked at the road, he said:
"Get back in the car, I can U turn and we will cruise down till the gas station, we can get a mechanic to see what is wrong"
"Dad you are out of gas!!" we shouted turning to him.
So we get back in the car. Camila is pissed, I am pissed.
I tried to explain to Joe Camila wanted my cell phone. Then she shouted:
"I didn't want your cell phone stupid, I wanted you bag so you don't get robbed"
And my dad laughed while he reversed a 100 meters in a crowded street while drivers honked and undoubtedly insulted my dad’s mom.
We made it to the gas station. My sister and I were pissed, my dad puzzled by the car trouble.
They filled up the tank. And the car started. We were out of gas.
So my sister and I laughed:
"See dad, it was gas! we told you it was gas".
We forgot we were fighting and united in reprimanding my dad.
He laughed that same engorging smile and said:
"Tell Joe that I had everything checked out yesterday. The oil, the water. Everything but the gas".

Na cidade grande - part 1

2008-02-08T16:00:00.000-08:00

“You are out of gas, dad!”
“No it’s not the gas, the meter is broken, we are fine.”
Through the back seat window I saw the temperature clock marking 36 degrees. Dad was driving this old car, 85 maybe? The air conditioning wasn’t on but I didn’t know if it was because it was broke, or if he just didn’t want to turn it on.
I remember begging my parents to turn on the air conditioning when I was little but they always refused, saying it would use up the gas.
Even though I know it’s not really true, I am always reluctant to turn it on. But then again it’s not that hot in the Bay Area.
We had been driving around for a couple of hours. And even though it was hot, and we were driving, it seemed, in loops, I was happy looking out the window. I hadn’t been in Brazil for 4 years and it looked like a foreign country. A brand new Mercedes honking at scavengers dragging card board on overloaded bikes; graffiti on the cemetery graves; busses so full and streets so crowded.
My sister was sitting next to me yelling at dad asking where we were going.
“See that street? I think I used to come to see a patient there. He was a deputy” answered my dad.
Then he turned to show us the house, talking about how in 1971 he used to have a lot of house calls in this rich area. Then he concluded that he was wrong it was another street and started looking for that street still talking about the patient that had faith in a 24 year old physiotherapist.
Soon we were lost again.
My sister asked where we were going. Then my dad said he was looking for the way back. Where, I didn’t bother asking.
I got interested in the patient talk.
“How long did you practice before you started teaching dad?”, I asked.
“Oh, for almost 10 years, your mother and I worked at the same clinic!” he replied.
“Really?” I was totally intrigued ”I thought you guys went to graduate school right after college.”
“No, no, we lived here for 8 years. We both worked at the clinic. Your mom lived with your grandma and I lived with grandpa. We had a lot of friends, you know. You used to go to these bars.” We were turning a rotary with bars in every corner.
Like a 180 degrees of open Choperias, or breweries, full of students and musicians.
“And we knew everybody”, continued dad.
It was hard for me to imagine my parents with those students, they are old. And I could not remember if they had any friends.
“So why did you guys move to São Paulo? “ I asked.
“Your mom and I never thought we were going to be doctors and live the big city. We just started working and we thought we were always going to live here. Then, we decided that before we had kids we should look into our careers so we moved and went to graduate school. That way, we could also live together” he said, looking right and left, looking for the way.
I still didn’t know where we were headed. But I liked talking to him like this. I really don’t know much about my parents. I don’t how long they were together, what made them move. All I know for sure is that when I was 8 my mom moved to the other side of the world to get away from him. And now he was telling me that once upon a time, they moved the equivalent distance from their families so they could be together.
Joe was napping in the front seat, surely hypnotized by the heat and 3 hours drive.
I was listening to my dad. And I saw my sister crying, but silent.
- - - -

We drove another hour or so. Camila. Joe and I joked about how dad was pretending to be lost so he wouldn’t have to drop us off back at grandmas. We joked how he had lived in this city for years and didn’t know his way around. How he had gotten so lost. We joked about how, when confronted about the air conditioner dad had replied:
“Of course it works, it just works with limitations”
We talked in English so my dad could not understand.
But when we laughed, he laughed too.

- - - -

Six words memoirs

2008-02-07T12:54:00.000-08:00

Screwed, till he set me free.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=18768430

heath is a byproduct, could happiness be one too?

2008-02-04T11:05:00.000-08:00

I was listening to NPR this morning and this guy was talking about this Healthy food craze. How Americans are obsessed with low fat, high protein, whole grains foods, uncooked foods, organic foods so on and so forth. He was mentioning what manufacturers do to food to make it low fat, how unnatural skim milk is.
Then he mentioned he hopes for a time when we will enjoy a meal together again, where the food and the company of family and friends will create an experience and health will be a byproduct of eating slowly and savoring.
Health is a byproduct. Makes sense.
Then I thought about happiness, can that be a byproduct too?
It's like everyone is obsessed.
All we think about is My job, My body, My time, My head, My relationship.
My. My. Me. Me.
The little pieces of Me and Mine that make My life.
What if we started thinking about others?
What can I do to make her feel good today?
How is she feeling? How can I cheer him up?
Maybe he needs company? What would he like to eat? Surprise them with cookies :)
Maybe that would improve our relationships and happiness would come naturally as a byproduct of our kindness and thinking of others.
I woke up today feeling a like a sucker. But now I feel good.
I am happier every time I remind myself not be an ass hole.

Big Brother Decision 08

2008-02-01T15:22:00.001-08:00

So the writers' strike continues and I was starting to freak out. What is a couch potato, TV obsessed, yours truly, Mari going to do without 30 Rock, 2.5 men and Chuck??
I would have to actually talk to my husband, call my family, work and hang out with friends - and that would really mess up my perfect little routine.
Then the networks started freaking out too putting out ridiculous shows like "The Moment of Truth"(like I care about the secrets of another white guy (in desperate need of braces) dating (surprise surprise!!) an Asian chick).
But then democracy came to the rescue!! The primaries heated up! Now, I can watch CNN instead of talking to Joe. I can even call my mom and dad to talk about American politics instead of discussing the second best issue - why, why can't our family of 4live within the same continent? No, no, no. Better not go there. And thanks to elections we are doing much better as a family discussing global warming, ridiculous Chevron profits and illegal immigration over expensive, and more importantly long, loooong distance calls, 2 family members at the time.
Even though I can't vote. I want to contribute to the greatness of this very nation.
I propose: THE CANDIDATES'BIG BROTHER HOUSE
That is right! It comes right after American Idol and stays on for 15 hours a day.
"Democrats and Republicans living in the same house competing in debates and physical challenges".
Every week the loosing party has to nominate 2 members to go to the gotlet (I know I get them shows mixed up) and the AMERICA gets to call and decides who goes!!
THAT is true democracy 'cause Giuliani don't get to quit; he HAS to go against Huckabee!!
Will Hillary and McCain make out?
NOTHING will be more effective in promoting abstinence like a good night vision, make out session featuring those two.

We are all ass holes my friends

2008-01-23T16:32:00.000-08:00

I heard this statement twice this week:
"I hate how difficult and unpractical women are"
Needless to say this was said by men. I would also like to point out that I did not ask about anything related to this issue and these statements came out of nowhere.
I ignored the remarks. Until a female friend of mine, with whom I have had this conversation before, pointed out that she does believe men and women are different.
Men are concerned with basic things she said. Sex. Food. Shelter.
And women are more into the details.
I don't believe in this shit.
I believe that there are stereotypes which are reinforced and live on because people that believe in this stuff incorporate it into their behaviour bringing the stereotype to life.
I don't believe uniform, neat simple rules that classify and explain human behaviour and the world. Examples:
- Men are practical. Women are impractical
- Good things happen to good people
- The golden rule
- Men are good at Math. Women are nurturing
I wish I could believe in this neat little rules and stereotypes. But I can't. Because in my 26 years, I have gone to countless parties, clubs. I have seen men and women do unspeakable things. I have seen love bloom. I have seen people cheat. I have seen people buy and sell love and friendships. I have seen good people lie and liers tell the truth.
And the only truth is given the right circumstances:

We are all ass holes my friends.

America the Great

2007-11-26T22:02:00.000-08:00

If you have seen me discuss the United Nations security council or hang out with Mari and friends discussing "the Americans" you might be surprised by the positive tone of this post's title: America The Great. I don't mean America Ferrera, though she is great too, but this very country that I love to hate and, given I have been here for 7 years, love to live in.
I have been comfortable with my hypocrisy. Yes, I live here. Yes, I have married an American and will happily bear his 4th of July celebrating offspring. But I will argue with anyone - be it a professor, activist, a real state developer or an 8 year old - that this is NOT the greatest country on earth. Like any IR major I can sustain this argument long enough to tire the other person out (except if they happen to be a somewhat competent PolSci major).
I will argue about America's consumerist frenzy. I will argue about America's cheating in foreign relations. I will bring up how the World Bank and IMF were formed. How wrong American economists always are. Most of all I will bring up America's hypocrisy. What is it about spreading democracy by sponsoring coups on democratically elected leaders, and financing war lords and dictators? What the fuck is up with the richest country not having universal health care and being populated by 15 year olds who cannot read? Then I will bring up hypocrisy again. Hypocrisy is a reoccurring theme in looking at America's history and path as a country.
This is why I am so comfortable here.
I too, have learned to embrace my hypocrisy. America and I have a lot in common.
If I say: Yes, they were made in sweatshops. Yes, I know how badly they treat their workers. And Yes, I purchased them because i need something to run with. America says: Yes, we know he is a dictator. Yes, we started giving him money again. Yes, we will support him because we need something to run with in the Middle-East.
If I say: Yes, I know cigarettes are bad for me. Yes, I understand that they are bad for you too (pufffffff). No, I will not quit because it will cause me a temporary discomfort. America says: Yes, we understand that the farm subsidies do us a lot harm. Yes, we understand that it's probably doing the most harm to the poorest people. No, we will not stop them because it will cause us temporary loss of votes and heart attacks to over weight white males in the farm lobby.
I didn't always think like this. Cognitive dissonance gave me a lot of comfort and I have for long lied to myself. But last Saturday I went to Santa Cruz board walk, and there I witnessed America at it's best. There was something comforting about the 2 dollar fried cheese cake on a stick. There is something warming about a Chinese family wrestling an Indian family to the air hockey table. It was splendid to realize that the guys in front of me in the Churro's line actually works as a janitor at the board walk and can afford to take his family to the board walk.
I realized the beauty of consumerism which has made this country so abundant that even the homeless here are better off than construction workers in Brazil. The greed which made all those people give loans to people who could never afford homes and refinance houses based on exaggerated values so families could go on Caribbean cruises.
No, it is not the greatest. No, I will not start shopping (and admit to it) at Wallmart. And I will not eat McDonald's (only if I am really really desperate or drunk). But I will admit that with all the craziness any country in which you can see families of all colors and creeds standing on a 5 $ Churro line is great in my book.

Halloween

2007-10-29T12:27:00.000-07:00

I thought about it sitting by the window watching as the party ended at 2 am.
Then I talked about it.
Then I made the decision to blog about it.
Then I read this post card at post a secret.
So I will just post that instead of my long, overly sarcastic review of the Batgirl costume.
BUT I might add that I think everyone who wishes should dress like a slut all year round.
Why wait for Halloween?
I would even go as far as saying there should be a special line for girls dressed in a slutty manner at the club *(notice I did not refer to them as sluts). They should get express entrance and a free drink ticket. Then night life will be more fun!

* There should probably be specifications so not to allow just any girl on this line and maintain high standards for slut dressing. If I may, I do have some suggestions: the skirt should be at least 8 inches from the knees(in case of doubt - arising from the impracticality of this standard in testing sadly short or freakishly tall specimens- subjects should bend 70 degrees and a noticeable portion of underwear-or preferably the lack thereof-should show). At the very very least, half of both boobs should be visible. These preferably covered in glitter. At a minimum one of these accessories should be present: guarder belt, fishnet stockings, belly piercing, Bra, nipple piercing, clear heels......
haaa, tired of writing.... anyway you get the point.

Monday morning rain is falling

2007-10-01T12:16:00.000-07:00

So I got here at 8am. I e-mailed 5 Professors for recommendations for grad school. e-mailed my mom, my sister, my aunt, my cousin with plans for the wedding - the other plans I crafted for them. I apologized to a friend I yelled at. I heard that my other friend didn't have a very good birthday and heard two venting session on IM and one story. This is Monday noon.
This blog is about the things I heard and overheard today: in the office, on the train ,the IM and when I hid in the conference room closet (long story):

- I don't need a man to validate me.

- So Patty* doesn't like Ben* the way Ben likes Patty.
Mari thought: it was his bday! who does that on people's Birthdays!!!

- One piece of advice, however: set your sights somewhere other than Berkeley. It is a VERY small program and as far as I know, has never accepted an SFSU grad.

- see see !![12:25] Mari: this flirting thing is dangerous!!!!

- I want I want I want.

- I wanted the window! Fuck you.
This is one is from the closet.

- I love you. Have a good day.

- [11:00] Mari: "counselor, screw my career, let's talk about the important things in life:what the fuck hapenned to your arm?"

*names have been changed due to the remote, however existent possibility, that these people might read this.

Tomorrow is only Tuesday.

Up Simba! Speaking of boobs...

2007-08-31T10:22:00.000-07:00

This blog is taking shape in my mind. It is becoming, not a diary, but a space in which i can exercise my omnipotence without the fear of being arrogant :). There are countless topics and opinions that I reluctantly swallow in normal conversation, but here I can unleash my anger- derived from the fact that I obviously know EVERYTHING and nobody listens to me. See Camila, I finally think you were right about one think: I do think I am the Dona da Verdade - because I am.

So this entry is dedicated to my point of view,- on the issue of female body image and male perception of the aforementioned - that went shamefully under emphasized in IM conversations I had with friends on a cloudy Friday morning.

It started with the old question:

Co-worker : what should I have for breakfast? Do you think if I ate a breakfast burrito it would be bad?

Mari: No, it sounds good, it is food.

Co- worker: Yesterday i felt like throwing up, I saw my stomach and popped in the Pilate's video. hahahaha

It should be noted here that my co-worker is about the most fit person I have ever ever seen. Like marathon running fit.

Mari: You look fine.

Mari: I feel really chunky too, us girls are never in peace.

Co-worker: My brother said boys like girls like us, with meat on the bones.

Mari: I finally lost weight and it was all from my boobs.

Co-worker: bye bye boobies.

then a friend logged in.

Mari:My skinny co-worker wants to lose weight, the end must be near (picture here that Chicken Lil poster with his butt sticking up in the air)

anyway the conversation went in the direction of guys caring a lot about how girls look. According to my non-scientific, though largely sampled research, guys care. But really not that much. But my friend insists that physical appearance is very important.

I agree, but I feel that girls care more about how their friends look than guys.

Here is where it gets arrogant ("up simba!" - got on my horse):

I know what's wrong. And what's wrong is that we don't have eyes of our own. So not only we rely on others to tell us who we are, but in case they fail to tell us who we are we seek the answer by comparing ourselves to one another.

(ok, getting off the horse now)

Anyway, I still think we think too much about this shit.

The Secret and the Choice

2007-08-22T13:04:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday I watched THE SECRET, courtesy of the most interesting Australian dude.
Given that I only saw part of it, this is what THE SECRET it boiled down to: The universe is governed by the law of attraction which responds to what you think and makes it true. The universe here is like the Genie, in Aladdin, which grants wishes to us humans based in what we focus our thoughts in. So if you want to make a million dollars, you take a lot of post its put them in your car, house, office and what have you and VISUALIZE that million dollars (or whatever goal) and the positive vibe that you emit when VISUALIZING that goal will make the universe arrange itself to grant your wishes. The flip side being that if you VISUALIZE and think about crappy stuff (like debt, disease, diarrhea) that will become the true too.
I cant remember the exact quote (cause you guys know I have a crappy memory ) but its something like: "Think and it becomes thing"

In the movie, everything from the fact that 10% of the world's population controls 90% of the world's wealth to the bourgeoisie and proletariat relationships of the industrial revolution is explained by: some people know this Secret (the wealthy, the happy and sophisticated) and make damn sure nobody else finds out about it – thus, condemning most people to unfortunate fates such as poverty, servitude, ignorance and having to watch The Secret, on a perfect good Sunday.
The introduction of the movie sounded like pure greed to me.
So the movie sets out to explain in - what it claimed to be - quantum physics terms the whole theory. At this point I was hungry, so we interrupted viewing. Also because none of us could understand the quantum physics terms being talked about.
Anywhoo, it is a pretty convincing argument, also a disturbing one cause I can’t make my mind up about it. Yeah, I kinda believe that good vibes bring good things. But there is no fucking way that good vibes alone will bring you a million dollars, friends, boyfriends and a parking spot (actual examples from the movie). And it sucks if people that are starving in Somalia are to be blamed for their ill fate based on the fact that they weren't able to think positive thoughts.
So I was torn. I am still torn.
I WANT to believe I am in control of my destiny to the point that all I need to do is to think it. But it seems to individualistic and self centered.

So I went to Black and White market today and the lady forgot to ring up my jacket (she rang the cheap stuff) and I walked out with a FREE 150$ - probably sweat shop made - jacket. I realized it in the car. To my surprise I though about THE SECRET - I did wish for a jacket...I have been needing one. First, I was all happy and thinking WOW this shit is insane. But now I feel terrible.

I always think about the fact that I shop at a store which probably sells sweat shop clothes - THE HYPOCRISY!! the hypocrisy!! But maybe this counts as "sticking it to the man" since I always buy the super discounted stuff. THE RATIONALIZATION OF HYPOCRISY!

but now I also have to think about THE SECRET. Is it the secret? Is it just luck? Or am I just taking advantage of the situation? I didn't take the tag off....I have been thinking about taking it back and telling them.
Along with THE SECRET I have been given a choice: Will I go about living taking whatever I can get?

Ideas for Blogs which evidently never materialized and Mari's unforseen encounter with Da Vinci

2007-08-03T22:43:00.000-07:00

To the ambitious for whom neither the bounty of life nor the beauty of the world suffice to content, it comes as penance that life with them is squandered and that they posses neither the benefits nor the beauty of the world. And if they are unable to perceive what is divine in Nature which is all around them, how will they be able to see their own divinity, which is sometimes hidden. - Leonardo Da Vinci

I started writing this blog last Friday; and I even liked the idea behind it: It is the way we choose to go about living that makes us who we are.

I just read that Da Vinci quote right now and it made me realize that what I was really seeking in thinking about this "who are we, really?"stuff is how we can be happy.

Then this quote sort of opened my eyes to the fact that maybe. at a least bits of happiness are not about what I have, or how I got it, or who I am because of how I attained what I got. It is not about me at all: but on the outside.

Perhaps I have been too self-centered to realize how great things really are, and to see my own treasures.

Original blog:

Every little thing triggers an idea for a blog, fortunately for the cyber space - which given the recent youtube video of prisoners dancing to Thriller, does not need anymore junk - I have not had any time to blog. Unfortunately, for the readers of this speck of megabites which I fondly call with certain authority MY BLOG I have decided to just post the IDEAS for a blog and let you wonder how great they could have been - don't you love that room for greatness that can only be found in the unknown?

Idea 1: Pedestal

(based on the "dirty jobs" commercial)

I thought about a poem which would explore the values we hold on to.

Figuratively it would be kind of "what's on your pedestal?".

I am very fond of this personal values talk. My mom managed to raise 2 children on a single piece of advice - or threat - "your actions should be true to your values, because your values are who you are".

One can only hope no one will ever try to connect my actions with my values.

But in any case, the poem boils down to a rap song like "are you in it for the money or are you in it..." for what? - " for the front, for the respect, for the self fulfilment, for the soul, for the art, because there is nothing better to do".

So that's where the pedestal comes in.

I also thought about expanding this to a broader issue, respectively:

" are we what we look like?"
" are we what we have?"
" are we what we do?"
" are we who we do?"
then my personal epiphany would be the climax of the poem:
We are how we do.
In the long run it more about How we got there.
If how we accomplish things is the most important aspect, then our values will guide us to our actions...and it doesn't really matter what we get - we have to feel good about how we got it.
It should start:

On my pedestal sits a hypocritical, overly critical but well-meaning pot belly pig...

Anyway, the phone rang and I was talking to the girls.
They are right: when you first see somebody it might be about what they look like, but gradually it becomes about their personality.
I don't know why I can't just be satisfied with that. It would be much less time consuming.

Get Over it - another thislife.org entry & "I can't sleep"; "I am back" and "yeah, honey...I am still here"

2007-07-18T10:03:00.000-07:00

So yes, I was listening to American Life again (have no fear, dear reader! I have found something new to listen to - "Classic Tales"on Itunes). And this episode was about breaking up with somebody and "getting over it".

The part that caught my attention was: you know when you want to know as much as possible about your Ex's new boyfriend or girlfriend? According to Ira Glass (hail! Ira) the questions you ask about the partner that replaced you are a reflection of what you think about yourself.

So that got me thinking about what would I ask if Joe got a new girlfriend. And the questions came pouring down.

I would want to know if she is smart and confident. I would want to know if she has a strong self esteem, and if she is a natural leader that can lead him to the meal that he really craves....when he looks at me and says he doesn't know what he wants - as easy as she can lead an evacuation in a small commercial aircraft ( I picture her calmly helping the elderly while I scream "It's over! we are all going to die!). I wonder if she is strong and sweet. I want to know if this girl gets ready faster than I because she doesn't have to go through clothes that don't fit her anymore. And I want to know if she is careless and not cynical. I want to know if she knows the name of the Mexican president; and the biggest bone in the human body. I want to know if she smokes and drinks coffee, and if she likes Penelope Cruz.

I would want to know if she is like me. Or the exact opposite - the Anti Mari. Because, it doesn't matter how: I want him to be thinking of me.

Then Fabi reminded me of how happy we are. This whole "questions about new girlfriend" exercise showed me that I already have all that I need, so I already have what I want. There is no need to be cynical when I am happy with little.

Other news:

- My best friend can't sleep. I want to find a cure...but all I can think of is booze and a joint. If it works for me I don't see why it wouldn't work for her ....and I don't think your body can tell the difference between sleeping and passing out.

- I am planning a trip - all by myself - its not so bad...it is just that I am bad at it. I want people to be involved and perky like me...of course this does not happen. Being EMO is so much easier....maybe I will sit around and pretend I don't care and watch it crumble in front of my eyes when we are sitting stranded in Rio de Janeiro because people couldn't figure out the reservations.

- I miss my sister, a lot, the lil girl is having fun...though I wish she would respond emails and help me plan the trip. Maybe I shouldn't take her to Cabo Frio or Rio with us.

- Cha cha cha is sooo good!!go sangria :) - and "Revolutionary Booty"is trully a precious comment.

- Joe got into to Chiropractor school! proof that the world is not fair. But who cares when we are the ones getting lucky.

- And of course, Furby is back full force making her Italian presence felt in the unsuspecting IT world.

Phantom limbs

2007-07-13T23:12:00.000-07:00

I was listening to This American Life - again - and it was that episode about phantom limbs.
The phantom limb phenomena is what happens to people that have their arms, leg or hands amputated but afterwards can still feel their limbs. They can feel it hurting. They can feel it moving...even though, it is not there.
I got on the bus late at night today, trying to make my way home in the cold, misty Daily City fog. Then I smelt it:
The fresh scent of laundry and Iguana.
(I was never able to figure out what that fabric softener was; but I am sure even if I did I would never be able to recreate it)
That scent triggered a flood of memories: places, people and more than anything the simplicity of my life in the time of my first love...
in the midst of my current worries, hopes, my organizer full of " To Do's": study to be done, dinner at 7, pick up the car, go to the bank, get the tickets, deadline on Wednesday; from the middle of my everyday life I was transported back to a time of anguish and love, failures and hopes. And I could feel it.
I could feel the desperation, I felt the uncertainty through which I kept going.
The memories of my past felt like a screaming amputated limb.
and even though I have never been in a battle I feel like a veteran.
and I wonder if I will ever be able to forgive myself for what I have done in the name of the cause.
and I wonder if a war can be won when so many limbs and lives have been lost.

Love in the Time of Cholera

2007-07-09T20:19:00.000-07:00

When I started reading the book, I found it simplistic - Jorge Amado like - and it was hard to get through the first pages.

I kept looking for the magical realism of flying carpets being as interesting as a bloc of ice as in One Hundred Years of Solitude.

I wished to read a story about Love in its most fairy tale form. A perfect story- which we all already have constructed and embellished in our hearts and minds: Love at first site, the madness, the forbidden love, the suffering, and finally the happy or tragic ending, whichever it may be, as long as it justified and glorified the Love.

But Love in the Time of Cholera taught me - or better yet, my reading it emphasized my own beliefs about Love, I guess - that Love is not a predictable fairy tale.
Instead it is unpleasant - as picturing elderly sex; it is embarrassing - as needing to take a shit on a date; it utterly unfair - because ultimately some never find it, or have it be reciprocal; Love, most certainly hurts - because people cheat, they die, they lie, they are selfish; it is as passionate as unpredictable sex - though this does not require Love; when in a good mood, is the sweetness of watching the sunset holding hands.
Marriage is probably just as about Love as it is about security, accountability, compatibility and luck.

You might have noticed in the list above that negative references to Love outnumber the positive ones. Sweet as watching the sunset is mathematically canceled out by the certainty of getting hurt, the unfairness. As far as the Sex goes...well, I'm sure its different for everybody but Love is not crucial there.

(Yes, I continue to be unable to let go of my generally negative outlook in life)

So why the fuss? Why do we always talk and think and search LOVE?

Because, at least for me, that sunset is not the same alone. I want sex that is not just good but not empty. I'm guessing these are not rare reasons on why we never tire of seeking Love: in a book, in a movie, in a bar, in the eyes of the ones who we wish loved us.

We all look for different things. Some of us want loyalty. Others want devotion, security, partnership, baby, sex, respect, companionship, and conversation, and support.

"Order Combo #5 and you can choose 3 sides"

As for me, I have lost track of my thoughts and I am only certain that the other day Joe said something that reaffirmed that we are in Love.

And that my kind of Love combo includes warmth, with a realistic and cynic twist.

When we were talking about if we were the only ones who we said " I Love you" to, he said:
"Yes" ...I called him a liar and truthfully confessed I had said to others in the past.
So he said:

"We both know its not true, but you don't say it!".

...
"but you know that the best one can do is avoid the worse".

2007-07-03T14:39:00.000-07:00

I was listening to This American Life.

"The ten commandments"
http://thislife.org/Radio_Episode.aspx?sched=1187

It got me thinking about even though I am an atheist I think a lot about this stuff.

And even though I don't believe, sometimes I pray.

So I thought about using this last minutes before 4Th of July Holiday to write about my take on The Commandments. My thoughts as I am right now: 25, uneducated, barely employed, cynic and skeptical, and though an unlikely candidate for happiness - quite happy.

ONE: 'You shall have no other gods before Me.
Though it was awesome on the radio show the comment about how important this might be for God. It is one thing to the THE God, quite another I suppose to be one of two.
Mari thought - We all want to be special?
you know when you get in a contest with people: who goes to the gym more, who makes more money, who has the weirdest disease...so maybe we all want to be unique. We all want to the The one, not just another one.

TWO: 'You shall not make for yourself a carved image--any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.'
I always thought of this one as a good argument to raise against Catholicism. 6 words:
"What is up with the saint worshipping?"
It works quite well. But one time in Brazil I got the explanation that it was because God was busy and he needed assistants.
Touché.

THREE: 'You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain.'
True enough. But Sasha - who is learning English - thought "Jesus" was a bad word because he was told not to use.

FOUR: 'Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.'
Some people in Brazil won't even cook. I think: does God really want me to sit and waste? Or maybe he just wants us to sit and enjoy the life we carved in the world he created. But I, for one, am too cynical to accept such possibility as a viable means of spending a perfectly good Sunday, so I will be shopping.

FIVE: 'Honor your father and your mother.'
Amen.

SIX: 'You shall not murder.'
Why do they have so many Christians in the army?

SEVEN: 'You shall not commit adultery.'
Oh this includes "Heart adultery"which means to THINK of somebody in a sexual manner. This one is tough. I would say impossible. Honestly I don't know anybody who has accomplished this.

EIGHT: 'You shall not steal.'
Need clarification. Steal stuff? or ideas?
Is taking from a big corporation considered stealing?

NINE: 'You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.'
Whee.

TEN: 'You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, nor his male servant, nor his female servant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbor's.'
This one is one of the impossible ones too.
We all want stuff.
We are jealous of people.
Sometimes isn't that what makes us grow as people.
Actually you can tie motivation to WANT.

Like this:
People that are motivated by materialism, want money because they want stuff.
If one is motivated by ego, they want to be recognized.
And if you are motivated truly by altruism you don't break any commandments but soon it will be your turn to have a statue carved to your likeness - then you break the second commandment and... BOOM!! - you are screwed like all of us.

Sweet and Sour pork

2007-06-26T23:05:00.000-07:00

I am really, really going to try to be the better person.

I kinda promise.

daddy and me

2007-06-25T16:19:00.000-07:00

I was talking about my dad and loudly described him as:

"a selfish dick, cynic but kind of funny, who in the end is not that bad of a person and gets what he wants."

and then I went : "hold on, that's me"

I always thought I loved my dad because I didn't have a choice being that he is the only dad I got; and according to Mari's theory of life you gotta love the lemon if that's all you got.

But now I realize I really love him for who he is..and in a strange way aspire to be a cynic, happy dick just like my daddy.

Oh Rosie ....

2007-06-19T10:19:00.000-07:00

When I turned 21 I moved to Palmas, in Brazil. It was my first time living there as an adult. I made an efford to get to know the neighbors; and I felt like I was in a foreign country even though it was my own. One day chatting with neighbors trying to mingle as a local, I brought up Darwinism in a joke. I was surprised to learn that nobody in my neighborhood believed in evolution. They are catholic and believe in creationism. You know Adam and Eve. I remember thinking they were joking. I couldn't imagine why they would believe in such a flawed story. I couldn't imagine how one could live with that kind of "truth".
And they felt the same about me. Calling me "the girl that came from monkeys" we had a good time in our disagreeing in such basic terms.

This was the first time that one of my personal established norms - which I assumed was universal - was blown away; and from the eyes of others discarded as craziness.

This happened again last week.

Sitting in a dusty - prisoner transporter looking - bus, my classmate and I got into a discussion about our female driver. The driver sucked and we were fearing for our lives.

Alina said she sucks because she is a girl. The causal relation was clear to her:
girl= bad driver.
I kept insisting that was not it.
But my classmate was firm in her opinion that women suck at driving.
Not only that, she extended her argument to this:

women with higher estrogen levels are girlier and suck MORE at driving than tomboy women, who have lower estrogen levels.

She was so firm with this argument that all I could reluctantly say was:
"Are you sure it works like that?"
and she would go:
"yeah, it makes sense doesn't it?"
I should add here that she is a very persuasive person. If she told me today was Friday even though it was Ash Wednesday I would consider it a bit in my head.
I reached back into my memories from psych 101 and though I twitched my eyes a little, but all I could do was say:"hun, I don't know", and make a mental note to look it up later.
I ran this by Joe, who agreed with me that at the very least the theory was fishy.

But then I talked to another friend who simply said:
"It makes sense to me!" and I was left wondering...WTF?

I just don't like - no, that's too light I am terrified - how this things are being linked with stereotypes and making sense to such smart women.
I just cant accept the idea that they are right and I suck at driving because I have higher estrogen level...and not because I just suck at it.
So I did some reading.

I also discussed female and male differences more with friends over katsu curry.

This was a really wake up callish, depressing "she said, he said" (these are all actual quotes as my memory's accuracy permits - corrections are welcome)
She said: "guys are stronger, better"
He said: "ït's evolution"
He said: "estrogen makes girls more emotional"
She said: "higher testosterone levels make people more aggressive"
also mentioned: "drive like a guy"
and perhaps most importantly "its nature, you can't go against nature".
I was really shaken about this one.

I tried hopelessly to emphasize the importance of nurture and how we are taught this gender roles as kids and follow them into adulthood and then teach our kids; how spacial intelligence can be easily taught (see tetris research) therefore is not an indicative of a major difference between the capabilities of male and female.
I talked about the fact that if researchers tell women that a test is gender neutral they do just as well as men.
I even talked about how in many species it is the females who hunt - this for some reason expanded into talking about how monkeys are gatherers not hunters except for gorillas eating smaller monkeys (see youtube video totally gross)

But I failed in trying to make them consider the nurture over nature point.
and She shut my mouth with a blow to my heart - because of which I vow never to engage in such conversation again - when she said:

"We are equal under the law. But we are not equal because we are different"

I could feel the norm shattering.

River rafting - Mari going back to nature - They can fuck themselves, I am set

2007-06-17T20:54:00.000-07:00

You know when you kinda don't want to do something, for no other reason but "waaa - I'm lazy", or "i just don't know about this"... but then you take a leap and its just really worth it?

I didn't until this rafting trip.

It was an awesome rafting trip. I went to sleep at 3:30, woke up at 5:30. It was hot. The water was cold. We were drunk. Rafting was fun, a bit dangerous (more a question of perspective really - if you made it through the rapid "its not so hard - hahaha"; if your boat turned "Holy shit!") . I missed Joe. The food was ok, and then we drank some more and played games by the fire. Then you wake up and to raft and get ready all over again.

But more than anything, somewhere between being afraid of rafting, concentrating on the tide, and looking at stars at night, something came back to me. Something I had found a long time ago and lost: we are a minuscule, harmonic part of something bigger, more important than ourselves. There so much more going on around us, that our problems are really just what we choose to concentrate on.

Then coming back Fabi said it best "They can fuck themselves - I am set"
My problems, and disappoints are too small comparing to what I am set on doing.
So I say: lets think Macro and be set.

...and then god said: shut the fuck up and follow

2007-06-16T01:08:00.001-07:00

its one in the morning and I really need to pack.

today was a curious day:
cut my hair - the bangs suck as Joe told me they would
went to work - ... and what Joe said was going to happen happened
went to fabi's house to find out about Justin's fantasies (nothing better to do on a Friday night!) and what Joe refers to as fucked up girl moment happened
went to the movies - which was fun

and then God came to me in what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity and said:

just shut the fuck up and follow Joe.

He is telling me to pack..so...peace

In obviously too bored from my own good

2007-06-14T11:06:00.001-07:00

I am lonely and I am lost.
It seems I was left naked on the streets and now have to find my way home barefoot.
Did I make the decisions that brought me to this end?
Are you sure I was over the age of consent? because I don't remember making any of them; and I certainly don't believe I should be held responsible, much less made to carry the burden of consequences.

Here is a helpful analogy to how it feels:
It feels like I woke up in a trailler park with 5 kids - of obviously different fathers -, bad teeth, and a drug dealer husband and thought " I married him when I was 16 I should not be responsible for this s**t".

Not only are we obliged to live with our decisions, but we have to assume resposability.

Waaaa ( baby crying)
...

I will not feel this way. We may not be in control of everything, but I refuse the victimize myself on top of it all...

I conscientiously object.

( i love that word :) i want to be the conscientious objector of everything!
Ex: I won't diet because it its unethical to impose in yourself and others to terciary measures of beauty and finess.
Ex 2: I won't go to church because it is against my religion (the Mari religion) to ask God for stuff.
Ex3: I will not go dancing because it is unethical to place yourself in an environment that allows you to be objectified.
Ex4: I will not work at an office because it is unethical to allow oneself - and encourage others by example -to be reduced to a corporate number.

except that facing the least threat of loneliness, unemployment and boredom...I got right in front of the battle field.

People who have a strong commitment and go to Pilate's class and companies that don't pay enough

2007-06-13T20:44:00.000-07:00

See we are still complaining.

But at least this blog has enough weight that it has pissed people off enough so they don't care anymore.

We have reached "Office Space" point which dictates that getting fired is the best that can happen.

in other words its not that " the best we can do is to avoid the worse" but the best we can do is to accept the worse.

....

and we have yet to realize that things are actually pretty good because we have successfully - willing or unwillingly - avoided the worse - because that horse is in the tent pissing out instead of that camel pissing in (thanks professor Fischer!)

today's quote:
"So, uh, some people look at a glass and see it as half full, and other people look at a glass and say that it's a dragon"

the Daily show

Misery, beauty and the cherry tree

2007-06-11T20:56:00.000-07:00

It seems that everyone around me is in, what appears to be, a permanent state of distress.

Breaking up with boyfriends (out of the top of my head at least 8 people are going through this); enduring less than good jobs (almost everyone but Joe - who is just happy for no reason - and my sister - who doesn't have one); just plain suffering at work (a couple of folks); missing home (half of the people I count as friends); hating home (about a quarter).

Oh and of course not to forget the lions in the Zoo: unreciprocated love - including wondering what the hell went wrong with the love (I swear it was here a couple of months ago!); and good old money.

These are few examples which in their limited number cover a fairly large range of causes of misery.

I read somewhere that maybe the reason old people are so wise is that there are a limited amount of dilemmas in peoples' lives and that after a while standing on the street watching people kiss and fight, and, run and stop, and try, and fail, and succeed and celebrate...they kind of have a pattern it figured out.

After all, how many different hook up and break up stories can there be? How many perfect jobs are out there?

And yet many of us suffer in silence, or at least insist that no one can understand; and - this is the actual point of this post - we get creative.

We become sensitive to music, and books; and movies mean so much more, and we write, and we read poems; and we cry to falling Autumn leafs, and we actually analyze, paying attention to small things in our daily lives; we seek in the sphere of accumulated human knowledge a sign; and in our personal history an answer.

In a strange way I am more fulfilled by life when I'm distressed. A single word, a song, a paint touches me because I am hurt and exposed.

I suppose its like that for most people, and some of us are gifted and create art out of this.

Our misery brings out our desire to connect, to understand and express this world - our world. This is the beauty in us which allows us to create from the agony.

So maybe agony is beautiful in its own miserable way.

Ingrate - June 06

2007-06-10T13:06:00.000-07:00

Estou no MSN com a mãe.

Depois das saudações: "Oi mãe a aí?",
Ignoro de 24 anos de prática e pergunto
o que ela acha das decisões que tenho feito nas últimas semanas.

Dou voltas, e voltas, tentando elaborar nos acontecimentos recentes.
No fundo, no fundo quero dizer: Você acha que vou dar com os burros ná'guas?

Aparecem no meu computador um tanto de bonequinhos e letras grades e coloridas.

É minha mãe tentando responder.
E esta é a resposta: Mari temos o tempo todo da vida pra decidirmos, mesmo que semos mais velhas, agora quem deve decidir rápido o que se deve fazer é você mesma.

Hunn. Aí eu me lembro, sim, sim, claro!

Eu sempre devo fazer o que eu achar melhor.

Mas para vizinhos ela parece ter palpites.

I know, I know sou muito ingrata

Definition of Love - from June 06

2007-06-10T13:05:00.000-07:00

So right now I am chatting with my sis in japan,
reading OTHELLO for my English class
and writing this blog....

If there was a Nobel prize for multi-tasking it should be mine....or not
quality is always compromised,
as you can probably tell by the quality of this blog

So anyway Othello is another story about love,
hunn...not really
its about misunderstandings again
(see entry on Romeo and Juliet)

People misunderstand each other all the time,
learning how to dodge these misunderstandings and live with them must be the real quest of this life

second thought of the day:

LOVE

is when i got drunk the day before my first year anniversary and puked on Joe's car on the freeway.
When we got home he cleaned the car in the cold and came back in go me water and still kissed me good night
even though i had ruined his plans....

for that's love.

One crucial question of this life answered five hundred thousand more to go :)

Good night and Good fight

Jesus is the son of God - from January 07

2007-06-10T13:03:00.000-07:00

I was walking at Stanford's Neiman Marcus' make up section and overheard the make up girls talking...
they were apparently having theological conversation and reached the conclusion that
based on their collective knowledge
Jesus must have been the son of god; not, god himself.

Awesome....I love moments like that. I hang around listening to their chatting till Mayra found the correct shade of foundation.

Today I finished "the Stranger" and it got me thinking about existentialism and how important
it was for intellectuals from Camus' period to spread the idea that there is neither a god or higher powers,

I guess they really believed that once freed from the illusions of after-life,
and "higher power" controlled earthly existence

people would thrive and find true happiness.

Perhaps existentialism succeeded. People don't go to church. Proof of that they don't know who Jesus was.

Now what?
I wonder if Camus would just sit back and relax and wait for humanity to thrive.

I believe in after life,
so he will have the eternity to wait.

(don't get me wrong, I loved the book but I just don't think letting people know there is no god is a good thing...
people believe in what they need to believe and thrive accordingly)

THE SECRET and the choice

2007-06-10T12:54:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday I watched THE SECRET, courtesy of the most interesting Australian dude.

Given that I only saw part of it, this is what THE SECRET it boiled down to:

The universe is governed by the law of attraction which responds to what you think and makes it true.
The universe here is like the Genie in Aladdin which grants wishes to us humans based in what we focus our thoughts in.

So if you want to make a million dollars, you take a lot of post its put them in your car, house, office and what have you and VISUALIZE that million dollars - or whatever goal- and the positive vibe that you emit when VISUALIZING that goal will make the universe arrange itself to grant your wishes.

The flip side being that if you VISUALIZE and think about crappy stuff - debt, disease, diarrhea...- that will become the true too.

I cant remember the exact quote - cause you guys know i have a crappy memory - but its something like
"Think and it becomes thing"

In the movie, everything from the fact that 10% of the world's population controls 90% of the world's wealth to the bourgeoisie and proletariat relationships of the industrial revolution is explained by: some people know this secret - the wealthy, the happy and sophisticated - and make damn sure nobody else finds out about it - condemning most people to poverty, servitude, ignorance and basically very crappy lives.
The introduction of the movie sounded like pure greed to me.

So the movie sets out to explain in - what it claimed to be - quantum physics terms the whole theory. At this point I was hungry, so we interrupted viewing. Also because none of us could understand the quantum physics terms being talked about.

Anywhoo, It is a pretty convincing argument, also a disturbing one cause I cant make my mind up about it.

Yeah, I kinda believe that good vibes bring good things.

But there is no fucking way that good vibes alone will bring you a million dollars, friends, boyfriends and a parking spot (actual examples from the movie)

and it sucks if people that are starving in Somalia are to be blamed for their ill fate based on the fact that they weren't able to think positive thoughts.

So I was torn. I am still torn.

I WANT to believe I am in control of my destiny to the point that all I need to do is to think it.
But it seems to individualistic and self centered.

So I went to Black and White market today and the lady forgot to ring up my jacket (she rang the cheap stuff) and I walked out with a FREE 150$ - probably sweat shop made - jacket.

I realized it in the car.
To my surprise I though about THE SECRET - I did wish for a jacket...I have been needing one.

First I was all happy and thinking WOW this shit is insane.

But now I feel terrible.

I always think about the fact that I shop at a store which probably sells sweat shop clothes - THE HYPOCRISY!! the hypocrisy!!

But maybe this counts as "sticking it to the man" since I always buy the super discounted stuff.
THE RATIONALIZATION OF HYPOCRISY!

but now I also have to think about THE SECRET.

Is it the secret? is it just luck?

or am I just taking advantage of the situation?

I didn't take the tag off....I have been thinking about taking it back and telling them.

Along with THE SECRET I have been given a choice:

Will I go about living taking whatever I can get?

Intro - Cut the Shit - part 2

2007-06-10T12:28:00.000-07:00

I am officially moving from windows live to here.

this blog thingy is really intended to be read by my sister, who will still love me no matter what, and serve as an online diary so i don't have to keep stuff in my minuscule SF apartment.

It was to my minuscule SF apartment that I came home to last night.
We had gone out to Ambassador for drinks, got too drunk; and I ended up waiting for Joe to pick me up at the Thai restaurant next door while my friends drove home drunk and - as I found out this morning - had fun in their own way.

I woke up to my phone screeching to tell me a class mate wants me to go to street fair on the height;

So I am borrowing Ryan Seacrest line from "Knocked up" :

Cut the Shit!

We are way too pretty to put up with these guys so we should cut the shit

She is way way to smart to have to get drunk to do and say what she really wants ....so cut the shit

We are all way too real, hard working and achieving to want to look like we have never worked, or suffered, or aged - so we should really cut shit

ps: we are always late because there is no amount of make up that would make us look 15

My little sister is way to nice to have to put up with my shit ... so - here we go again - cut the shit!

we are running different race tracks to compare winners - so cut the shit

Food is food, not poison - we need to eat - ..so cut the shit

Coffee is not even bad for you... so cut the shit

yes, sometimes its not about you! so cut the shit

and yes, some people are just assholes...hence there is nothing you can do so you can cut the shit
the gym is just the gym, not a holly ground for worshipping .... so cut the shit

cut the shit so we are not late, cranky, lonely, tired of mourning our existence, suffering from low self esteem, diving in bottles not for the fun...but for the numbness

cut the shit so we can just go on and have a good time.