Greetings, everyone.
New post, new template, new house new stuff to tell. Yeah, big deal. (Actually, it is…)
So, from now on, in order to keep my English sharp, I’ll post in this language, preferably in a regular basis (ha! who am I gonna fool?). I mean, does anyone who reads my blog have any trouble to read it? This is my message: WHATEVAH.
So, after THE big change in my live – I live alone – I finally decided that I’ve gathered some thoughts to share with the Internet. I’ll start with some small facts and then I’ll finish with my “personal chronicle” that is entitled above.
1. I’m still a “Iniciação Científica” underpaid undergrad student and I’m gonna be having this life (life?) until august, 2010. That’s frustrating, although this year I won’t need to put as much effort to do my report. And I do plan to write articles in order to fatten my lattes. (I am self-critical enough to not include a link to it)
2. I’ve decided that I don’t wanna do my Master’s on UFPR. I wanna broaden my horizon either at Porto Alegre or USP if (and only if) there is a cheap and close place to live.
3. I have traveled to São Paulo AGAIN, stayed in Elton’s AGAIN (AGAIN doesn’t mean unpleasantness) and this time I was at the (wish me luck to translate… whatever) Conselho Nacional de Entidades Estudantis de Geografia. The meeting was more productive than expected, although the lack of punctuality and the failure of some people to listen to others (as well as their over-usage of sophist rhetoric). Another thing that drives me crazy is that Students are far from being organized enough to cause some damage to “the man”.
4. My father, two months after I had moved away from my mom’s, suggested that I organize a “chá de panela”. At first, the idea seemed very nice and smart. But then I’ve realized not so many people would join the party, let alone girls. (I am famous for having more guy friends… and Marlon doesn’t really appreciate that. =P
5. Speaking of friends, the list of people who I really care has shrunken due to my tendency to fail when using filters with friends. Whatever. I’m not for sissies. At least people know who they’re dealing with in advance and I’m not a source of frustration for others.
I could move on with the bitter speech about how people are generally lame when it comes to facing their own issues, but I’ll put that aside and, for a change, I’ll drop the subject and do something that I don’t remember doing since the passionate poetry posting back in 2004, 2005.
I’ll try to be as emotional as I can, since the topic is my pets… People should really know how much I care about animals and, specially, how much I love my pets. They’re the best company ever in times of lonelines.
Enjoy it.
My Life and My Pets
What should I write in order to praise my pets? Sweet little stories about their uniqueness? The joy of having them at home when they are little? The impact they cause when it’s time to say “farewell”?No, actually I have chosen them to talk about my life because they were there at all times, including when I was an exchange student.
Oh well, back to this self-force-feeding writing… I should start from when it all began…
Madonna: Back when I was 6 years old, my parents had decided that since we were living in such a big place and there were kids, the middle-class cliche was supposed to be fulfilled with the family dog. Actually, my parents decided that having a pet would be an enriching experience for me and my brother. You know how people say kids should have pets and blah, blah, blah… after some “analog googling” (there was no Internet back then, let alone google, lol) about the best dog for kids, somehow they’ve (I doubt this was a joint decision…) concluded a collie (Lassie) was the best option, since they are docile, loyal, playful, easygoing and really, really pretty.
I can barely recall the day we went to the place to pick her up: I remember my aunt Denise and my Uncle Fernando were there too. They also bought a collie for themselves and my cousin. They had decided to name her “Minina” (yes, this pronunciation…) and a few days later, our “cachorrinha” was named Madonna. The name was suggested by my dad because he was a big fan of Madonna, the singer.
Her first day at home was quite traumatic for my mom. She puked (or pooped) on the kitchen floor. She was placed on the (former) corridor that led to the back door. But someone left the door open and late at night she sneaked in my bed. Madonna was weeping because it’s very common that puppies cry when they are separated from their mother or siblings. And so she weeped for quite a long week or two.
So the days went by, she grew up and became a lovely dog. She develop some weird fears: (a) she didn’t like to be put on the leech (not even for walks), (b) hated balls more than anything and (c) she didn’t like to be pet on the “thighs” (I’m not acquainted with English dog’s anatomy and I’m too lazy to research it on wikipedia). She also didn’t learn to do many tricks. She would greet us with her paw and that was it. She was good at hunting and she could nearly climb our lemon tree.
Her favorite game was to run after a freezby at the grass of Hospital Erasto Gaertner. She could really run back then and she was really really gracious, specially when on sunsets, when the landscape matched her beautiful fur. Another game she liked to play was chase after me or my brother at home… of course she was much faster. And then when she felt really excited, she would go on a rampage around the lawns we had at home. She was also a pro in making big holes and spread dirt on the house (and eventually, on the car and the clothes). I don’t really have so much more to say about this early years of Madonna. The routine was quite the same, my dad would watch over her, she had never gotten sick or get in any sort of trouble…
For me, these childhood years were not the best. I was bullied at school by several mean envious girls (yes, nice blond rich girls were the bullies) that made my childhood not the best time of my life. I mean, from 8 to 11 my life was a big frustration, and unfortunately these childhood years are those which stay in my memory. I remember I was happy up until 7 but that happiness is really vague at the age of 22.
Anyways, my teens came and I’ve become very reckless with lots of aspects of my life, including my pets. From 11 to 15 I would pet Madonna for 10 minutes and that was it. And so it had been… I couldn’t care less for my house, my family and my classmates (they all sucked) and I sought refuge on music, “boyfriends”, sports and by the age of 12, I had become an Ahteist (kept in closet until 15). Of course my life is not as easy-going as this narration, but well, some parts are better off omissed and forgotten.
And during this troubled waters, I had miraculously earned a scholarship to a year of high-school USA interchange student program…
TO BE CONTINUED… IN ANOTHER POST.
