"Can I see an ID, please?"

Without a valid Driver’s License, I’ve had my (then brand-new) car parked in my garage for weeks. I’ve had to pass on ordering a beer or a margarita in a hot weekend because I left that yellow piece of paper at home – the one you must present with your “clipped-corner-ID”. I’ve had to go to the DMV so many times, this one grumpy lady started smiling at me - all in sympathy to the innumerous obstacles I faced for wanting to be behind the wheel, behind a glass of a cold one or just because I really didn’t have another way around it.

Self talk

I am a very inconsistent person. I wish I wasn't. It's not so much I can't finish anything I start, because I eventually do finish some things, not most. But mostly because I get bored with everything. I REALLY wish I didn't. My hobbies are so many I can't begin to list them here and yet I never invest that much time or money or effort or anything else into them. I'm always skipping from one thing to another.

And this blog is another one of my hobbies (I even have two, one in each language I speak with different purposes and everything) and it could not be different. I barely started and I have already taken long vacations from it.

The bathroom escape

This last week something funny happened. By "funny" I probably mean weird. But it had the purpose of showing me what I already knew, it confirmed it.

I went to the bank during my work lunch hour and stopped at Target for a quick meal with Chris. I am a proud germaphobe and since, while at the bank, I touched money, I had to wash my hands before eating (I would've washed them, no matter what.) So I entered the restroom and headed to the first sink. Freezing water came out, so I turned to warm but the water was coming out very slow. With all my germ/dirt psychosis, I soap up more than the average person, but the recommended time by doctors (at least 20s) - and while the slow but warm water is washing away that ton of soap, this newly-mom enters with a very cute and very diaper-filled toddler. I pictured what was to follow before I would eat my hot dog: young mom + cute toddler + full diaper = nasty view + awful smell + my hot dog.

My hard times in HS - part 2

This text is part 2 of 2. Please read part 1 here.

After being bullied all throughout 5th grade (equivalent of 9th grade for American schools), my mom decided to transfer me to a bigger school. I then went to where my best friend Louise attended. (I mentioned she even came all the way from Brazil to see me a couple years ago. She's awesome!) The problem was that I was late in the transfer and, by then, her class was full. I had to be put in a different class. She was 6th grade C and I was now A. (Schools in Brazil are a little different. You don't get to pick your subjects. You're in a big group and everyone attends the same classes.)

Because we were so close (have always been since kindergarten), I knew pretty much all of her friends and was very excited to change schools, but once I entered the A class, knowing nobody, things changed quickly. The girls hated me from day one because I was cute. I know that for a fact since, later on, when we got over those issues, they confessed it to me. What a life!

My hard times in HS - part 1

When I was still in Middle School I was very popular. I had the most friends, some of the best grades, knew all the teachers and all this kind of stuff some kids effortlessly have. Kinda like some movie you'd see with some teenage drama (I love those, by the way.)

Then, when High School started, all my friends left our little school and moved on to bigger 1000's+ people institutions. I considered (my parents did) moving as well, but the teachers knew me, right? I had good grades and the school, even small, had a great way of teaching. We decided I'd stay.