Yes, I did it. Disregarding my friends advices, I filled my heart with courage and went to face my fears in the dark room. My warrior ancestors would be proud of me, despite the involuntary shivering during the first 20 minutes.
Now, everything is fine. No more ABBA nightmares. I'm feeling like a Super Trouper. There are moments when I think I'm going crazy. But it's gonna be alright. Everything will be so different when I'm on the stage tonight. Finally facing my Waterloo. I can conceal it, don't you see, can't you feel it? Don't you too? I do, I do, I do, I do, I do.
Mamma mia, here I go again. Speaking like a Swedish song writer. My my, how can I resist it? Gimme gimme gimme a way out of it. Won't somebody help me chase these shadows away? Gimme gimme gimme a Valium after midnight. Take me through the darkness to the break of the day. Chiquitita, you and I know how the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leaving. You'll be dancing once again and the pain will end.
My, my, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender. Oh yeah, and I have met my destiny in quite a similar way. The history book on the shelf is always repeating itself.
If you can't defeat them, join them.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Facing Your Ghosts
Then, 14 days later he decides to write again. I'm back. Do you have time? After all that time I have a lot to take off my chest. What happened? A curse, of course.
A teacher's curse, right Tim? I'll explain. Last month, right after Canada's Day, I was suppose to deliver an argumentative essay to my Advanced Writing end Reading teacher, Tim. But I didn't. Yes, I know, bad bad boy. [♪]Music break[♪]Bad, bad, bad, bad boy || You make me feel so good || Gloria Estefan & Miami Sound Machine: Bad Boys (1985) [♪]Stop[♪]
It's just the kind of text that I just don't like. Hate, actually. So, when you don't do what you're suppose to, you make an excuse. The first one was the most classic one: my dog ate my homework. Then I told him that I was suffering from a severe writer's block. Ahem... Yep. After this episode, I'm quite sure that Tim, despite the friendly Canadian look, is a voodoo master.
And what broke the evil spell wasn't my princess' kiss, which would be nice, but a Mama Mia's billboard. The silly-sweet-summer-comedy-romance poster brought me back. How? Reminding me of an ancient trauma: Muriel's Wedding (AUS 1994). Yes, don't laugh, the '94 Australian movie made me develop a phobia every time I hear an ABBA song.That's voodooism's globalization, my friend! A Canadian put a spell on a Brazilian that could only be broken by an American movie's billboard which reminded him of a Australian movie with a lot of Swedish songs that scared the shit out of him. "WHAT?!" Exactly!
It was a common weekend in 1994. The young Henrique was at home, with his movie addicted family. Every weekend they use to rent from 8 to 12 VHS tapes - DVD's grandpa - watching from American blockbuster's to cult Iranian movies. He was excited 'cause for the first time there was a Australian movie among then - Crocodile Dundee doesn't count. But it was just too much for the 14 y.o. boy. It blew up his mind. It toked three weeks so he could sleep properly again. Before it, just nightmares, "Waterloo, Waterloo", all night long. Since then I can't hear a ABBA song without feeling the goose bumps.
The beginning of the 2000s were a little spooky, after that A-Teen band started re-record every ABBA song, but I managed to scape from then. Well, know I have decided: I must face my ghosts. I'm going to watch Mamma Mia!
If I don't come back alive, tell my family and friends that I was brave and that I love then. Wish me luck!
A teacher's curse, right Tim? I'll explain. Last month, right after Canada's Day, I was suppose to deliver an argumentative essay to my Advanced Writing end Reading teacher, Tim. But I didn't. Yes, I know, bad bad boy. [♪]Music break[♪]Bad, bad, bad, bad boy || You make me feel so good || Gloria Estefan & Miami Sound Machine: Bad Boys (1985) [♪]Stop[♪]
It's just the kind of text that I just don't like. Hate, actually. So, when you don't do what you're suppose to, you make an excuse. The first one was the most classic one: my dog ate my homework. Then I told him that I was suffering from a severe writer's block. Ahem... Yep. After this episode, I'm quite sure that Tim, despite the friendly Canadian look, is a voodoo master.
And what broke the evil spell wasn't my princess' kiss, which would be nice, but a Mama Mia's billboard. The silly-sweet-summer-comedy-romance poster brought me back. How? Reminding me of an ancient trauma: Muriel's Wedding (AUS 1994). Yes, don't laugh, the '94 Australian movie made me develop a phobia every time I hear an ABBA song.That's voodooism's globalization, my friend! A Canadian put a spell on a Brazilian that could only be broken by an American movie's billboard which reminded him of a Australian movie with a lot of Swedish songs that scared the shit out of him. "WHAT?!" Exactly!
It was a common weekend in 1994. The young Henrique was at home, with his movie addicted family. Every weekend they use to rent from 8 to 12 VHS tapes - DVD's grandpa - watching from American blockbuster's to cult Iranian movies. He was excited 'cause for the first time there was a Australian movie among then - Crocodile Dundee doesn't count. But it was just too much for the 14 y.o. boy. It blew up his mind. It toked three weeks so he could sleep properly again. Before it, just nightmares, "Waterloo, Waterloo", all night long. Since then I can't hear a ABBA song without feeling the goose bumps.
The beginning of the 2000s were a little spooky, after that A-Teen band started re-record every ABBA song, but I managed to scape from then. Well, know I have decided: I must face my ghosts. I'm going to watch Mamma Mia!
If I don't come back alive, tell my family and friends that I was brave and that I love then. Wish me luck!
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Canada Day / Fête du Canada
Today, July 1st, is Canada Day!!! Yeah!! Let's celebrate!!
But, aaaah, I beg your pardon, aaaah, what is Canada Day?
Well, according to the Wikipedia:
"Frequently referred to as "Canada's birthday," particularly in the popular press, the occasion marks the joining of the British colonies of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and the Province of Canada - being divided, in the process, into Ontario and Quebec - into a federation of four province on July 1, 1867..."
Hum... Nice. Happy 141 birthday! It's like the September 7th for us, Brazilians. It's Independence Day, isn't it? Oh, wait... it's not over yet:
"... However, though Canada is regarded as having become a kingdom in its own right on that date, the British Parliament at first kept limited rights of political control over the new country, which were shed by stages over the years until the last vestiges were ended in 1982, when the Constitution Act patriated the Canadian constitution. Canada Day thus differs from Independence Day celebrations in other countries in that it does not commemorate a clear-cut date of complete independence."
Oh, I see... sorry about that. 1982? Really?! Hunf... Yeah, I must say that it sounds a little bit coward, you know. "Mother, I'm leaving! But fell free to come over and ground me whenever you please."
Why didn't you people used the US of A independence as an excuse and did yours? Come on! Where are the stories of fight for your freedom, blood for the nation and end the tyranny? Nope? I see...
Let me tell you a REAL Independence story. Sit. It's a long one (but also the best part of today's post).
Once upon a time, there was this Portuguese colony. When Napoleon decided to invade Portugal, the Portuguese royal family ran away to its colony, escorted by the British navy. Once they can not live in a colony, they promoted it to the status of United Kingdom of Portugal and Brasil.
After a while, the short french sovereign lost his megalomaniac war, and the people of Portugal demand the return of their royal family. The Portuguese went back, but they left behind a young prince, who was born in Lisbon but went to Brazil at the age of 9, and 13 years later he didn't want to go back.
You know what I mean. You're 22, a young loaded European prince, who happens to be the next one in the throne's line... Spent your whole puberty living in YOUR colony, where is so, so hot, that the native walk naked all the time... 2 + 2=? Young prince + naked natives? Yeah... he wants to stay. "Just in case, you know, papa, big-K... We have those Independence revolutions going on here... I think it would be better if I stay, watch over our land here, right? I'll go back in a couple of years."
He didn't. In the next year, on September 7th 1822, he proclaimed Brazil's Independence and became Brazil's first Emperor. Papa was pissed, but not that much, and with a fine of 2 million pounds sterling, the big-K even recognized Brazil's independence.
Monday, June 30, 2008
So far, so good?
Well, my beloved accomplices, until now I just had the work of translate the Lado B posts to English. And I have no idea of why did I write "until now" because that's exactly what I will continue to do it.
Yes, Laura! I know that I own you a 300 pages essay on "Whale's Vacations" - don't ask - and I will do it.
Hope that it stills as funny as the original. Otherwise I'll have to hire someone to write in my behalf... =p
Please, weight your opinions in. Don't be shy. Don't be merciful.
I can take it! Come on! I dare you to comment!
Yes, Laura! I know that I own you a 300 pages essay on "Whale's Vacations" - don't ask - and I will do it.
Hope that it stills as funny as the original. Otherwise I'll have to hire someone to write in my behalf... =p
Please, weight your opinions in. Don't be shy. Don't be merciful.
I can take it! Come on! I dare you to comment!
We'll Always Have Paris
Casablanca (1942)
"Ilsa: But what about us?
Rick: We'll always have Paris. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.
Ilsa: When I said I would never leave you.
Rick: And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now... Here's looking at you kid".
----------
I used to hate Mondays and now, I hate Fridays. Every Friday we "lose" somebody.
I know that we sign a temporary contract every time we meet someone here, over this circumstances. But usually, in the "real" world, contracts may be extended, renewed. Yes, we can also extend our "relationship-contracts", unlikely to happen but we can, and we know that the friendship will continue despite the distance, the time zone, the continent, the difference in our backgrounds and culture. But it's never the same thing.
We already lost Denise "Busgirl", Lukas "Roofer", Mike "Suicide" (Switzerland), George "Prolix" (Czech Republic), Jorge "Senta-na-pua" (Mexico), Karina "Japa Girl" (SP.Brazil), Marcus "Take a Picture" (BH.Brazil), Juliana"Don't-like-you" (SP.Brazil).
Today we're losing Sonja "Reasonable-Green-Eyes-Ice-Queen" (Austria).
Soon we'll lose Juan Carlos "Special" (POA.Brazil), Thiago "Stinky Jokes" (Botucatu.Brazil), Laura "Chatty" (Switzerland), Annie "^^V Anime" (Korea), Gem "The-same-in-Portuguese" (Turkey), Kamuron "Rescueboy" (Turkey), AB "Yo" (Saudi Arabia) and so many others, that I'm not continuing the list 'cause I'll probably leave someone out.
It's the fast-friendship phenomenon. There's no time to know each other a little bit better. We gotta be fast. Open up your heart and jump. Hopefully there will be a safety net to hold you down there. Yeah... We all know that one day we will wake up from this dream and go back to our real lives. But sometimes it's cold outside, your bed is warm and you just don't want to wake up.
Maybe Vinicius was also referring to this when he said:
"Que não seja imortal, posto que é chama, mas que seja infinito enquanto dure."
It shall not be immortal, once it's a flame, but let it be infinite as long as it last.
"Ilsa: But what about us?
Rick: We'll always have Paris. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.
Ilsa: When I said I would never leave you.
Rick: And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now... Here's looking at you kid".
----------
I used to hate Mondays and now, I hate Fridays. Every Friday we "lose" somebody.
I know that we sign a temporary contract every time we meet someone here, over this circumstances. But usually, in the "real" world, contracts may be extended, renewed. Yes, we can also extend our "relationship-contracts", unlikely to happen but we can, and we know that the friendship will continue despite the distance, the time zone, the continent, the difference in our backgrounds and culture. But it's never the same thing.
We already lost Denise "Busgirl", Lukas "Roofer", Mike "Suicide" (Switzerland), George "Prolix" (Czech Republic), Jorge "Senta-na-pua" (Mexico), Karina "Japa Girl" (SP.Brazil), Marcus "Take a Picture" (BH.Brazil), Juliana"Don't-like-you" (SP.Brazil).
Today we're losing Sonja "Reasonable-Green-Eyes-Ice-Queen" (Austria).
Soon we'll lose Juan Carlos "Special" (POA.Brazil), Thiago "Stinky Jokes" (Botucatu.Brazil), Laura "Chatty" (Switzerland), Annie "^^V Anime" (Korea), Gem "The-same-in-Portuguese" (Turkey), Kamuron "Rescueboy" (Turkey), AB "Yo" (Saudi Arabia) and so many others, that I'm not continuing the list 'cause I'll probably leave someone out.
It's the fast-friendship phenomenon. There's no time to know each other a little bit better. We gotta be fast. Open up your heart and jump. Hopefully there will be a safety net to hold you down there. Yeah... We all know that one day we will wake up from this dream and go back to our real lives. But sometimes it's cold outside, your bed is warm and you just don't want to wake up.
Maybe Vinicius was also referring to this when he said:
"Que não seja imortal, posto que é chama, mas que seja infinito enquanto dure."
It shall not be immortal, once it's a flame, but let it be infinite as long as it last.
Chef Bruno
Bruno Greca da Cunha. I was avoiding this topic, once that "making fun of Canadians" is the primary target here, but sometimes we just can't run away from it.
A nice young fellow. B.A. in Archivology, Cerrado's breed, aways cool, "numa buenassa". He's my roommate at The Gnome's House. We split the rent, the food and the house duties. A really easy going guy and it's nice to share a roof with him. His great passion is to cook. A Chef able to take control of any 5-star quitchen in the world.
And that's where my life get's easy. I've been living a Pasha's life. Any gourmet would dir from envy. I already told him: "Bruno, forget this archivology thing, get out of Canada and fly to France to seek a Cordon Bleu scholarship. You're waisting your time here, man!" But he doesn't listen to me...
I'll guard all the secrets of La Cucina di Greca he trusted me on, but it's not fare to the rest of the world that I am the only one blessed with this pleasure. So, I'm going to share two of his famous recipes with you, your lucky readers:
1 - 2 - Rissoto alla Greca: Heat oil in a medium sauce pan, sauté onion and garlic. Add rice and stir. Add some boiling water and reduce heat to medium low. At this point, despite your usual knowledge, stir the rice. Another trick: don't wait until the rice gets dry, take the pan with that "rice soup" and do like you would do with a boiling pan of cooked Spaguetti. (Note: I'm missing a verb here. To take out the water using a specific device to do so... The water goes and the rice stays... Help!). Add with sliced carrots, letuce and tomatoes. Serve with sweet-beans¹ and add hetchup to taste.
---
¹ The sweet-beans: I don't know about you, but that sound strange to me. Beans in Brasil are not a sweet dish, they're salty. When we went to buy groceries for the first time here, we saw this can of Beans with Pork and thought: hum... semi-feijoada, great. But who the hell puts brown suggar in the beans?! Now we don't buy anything without check the ingridients...
A nice young fellow. B.A. in Archivology, Cerrado's breed, aways cool, "numa buenassa". He's my roommate at The Gnome's House. We split the rent, the food and the house duties. A really easy going guy and it's nice to share a roof with him. His great passion is to cook. A Chef able to take control of any 5-star quitchen in the world.
And that's where my life get's easy. I've been living a Pasha's life. Any gourmet would dir from envy. I already told him: "Bruno, forget this archivology thing, get out of Canada and fly to France to seek a Cordon Bleu scholarship. You're waisting your time here, man!" But he doesn't listen to me...
I'll guard all the secrets of La Cucina di Greca he trusted me on, but it's not fare to the rest of the world that I am the only one blessed with this pleasure. So, I'm going to share two of his famous recipes with you, your lucky readers:
1 - 2 - Rissoto alla Greca: Heat oil in a medium sauce pan, sauté onion and garlic. Add rice and stir. Add some boiling water and reduce heat to medium low. At this point, despite your usual knowledge, stir the rice. Another trick: don't wait until the rice gets dry, take the pan with that "rice soup" and do like you would do with a boiling pan of cooked Spaguetti. (Note: I'm missing a verb here. To take out the water using a specific device to do so... The water goes and the rice stays... Help!). Add with sliced carrots, letuce and tomatoes. Serve with sweet-beans¹ and add hetchup to taste.
---
¹ The sweet-beans: I don't know about you, but that sound strange to me. Beans in Brasil are not a sweet dish, they're salty. When we went to buy groceries for the first time here, we saw this can of Beans with Pork and thought: hum... semi-feijoada, great. But who the hell puts brown suggar in the beans?! Now we don't buy anything without check the ingridients...
A Bus Ride
Copy + Pastefrom my friend Denise @ denise.li
Once we're already talking about buses, I found this story that happened to my friend Denise Niedermann, Swiss-German, a few days ago. She didn't leave out a single detail in her story, and you be able to see the Swiss precision at the chronology of facts.
Hard to believe, but this story is true!
10.35 pm today: Accompanied by a friend, I’m waiting for the bus.
10.40 The bus arrives, I get in. Bus driver: "I’m going to UBC. Where are you going?" Me:"I’m going to UBC too". Bus driver: "Fine, that makes things much easier to me. So we can go there together. I’m leaving in about two minutes. You can go and wait outside (my friend is still there). I won’t drive without you". I get off, bus driver stretches his legs and talks to me and my friend.
10.42 Bus driver, me and 8 other people get in
10.43 Three women ask the bus driver, where bus #4 would stop. For the next 1o minutes, the bus driver explains where to go and that they better would take another bus in order to reach their destination
10.53 Bus driver into the micro: "Hi folks. My name is Frank and I’m your bus driver for tonight. Frankly, I have no idea why my parents chose that name, but my name is Frank".
10.57 Bus driver into the micro, no bus stop in sight: "See this girls outside screaming and running? I bet they couldn’t find the bus stop. Give them a warm applause when they get in." Girls get in, passengers clap.
11.00 Bus driver, while crossing Granville Bridge: "lovely scenario on the right side of the bus. Please don’t jump off the bus to take your pictures"
11.05 Broadway&Granville. Two teenagers ask the bus driver how to get to Jericho Beach. Bus driver: "Hey guys, does anyone know how to get to Jericho Beach?" Several proposal from passengers. Large discussion about the best solution. 5min later, they agree on taking number 4
11.11 Bus driver: "There is a micro in front of the bus. Who would like to sing something for me?"-laughs. "Don’t be shy, there is only an inside, no outside of the bus"
11.12 I miss my bus stop because I’m so fascinated by this ride…
Cê sab ses onz pass Savassi*
Translation Belorizontês > English: Do you know if that bus goes to Savassi?
You know, it doesn't go that far, but wouldn't it be nice if it did? Looking with some good will we can almost see it in front of the Belo Horizonte's Municipal Park at Afonso Pena Avenue, can't we?
If there's one thing that I really like about Vancouver is the public transportation. Bus, SeaBus and SkyTrain. I wish I could take some Translink's traffic engineers, send the poor bastards to Sao Paulo and say: let's see if you guys are that good. Not only to SP, but any major city em Brazil, such as Rio, BH and Brasilia. But you see, to send them to Sao Paulo would be the ultimate prank - Sao Paulo's traffic jam is around 160 to 200 km every day - and this is a let's-make-fun-of-Canadians blog, even when we recognize a ob well done.
But the fact is, the public transportation system works. Even when it "doesn't", at a spoiled Canadian point of view, it does: "Oh my God! Where is this f**king bus! It's two minutes late!" - said the disbelieving Canadian. "Only two?!" - answer loudly the also disbelieving Brazilian.
P.S.: The one in the photo is te one a take everyday to school: 16 - Arbutus > 29th Avenue Station.
You know, it doesn't go that far, but wouldn't it be nice if it did? Looking with some good will we can almost see it in front of the Belo Horizonte's Municipal Park at Afonso Pena Avenue, can't we?
If there's one thing that I really like about Vancouver is the public transportation. Bus, SeaBus and SkyTrain. I wish I could take some Translink's traffic engineers, send the poor bastards to Sao Paulo and say: let's see if you guys are that good. Not only to SP, but any major city em Brazil, such as Rio, BH and Brasilia. But you see, to send them to Sao Paulo would be the ultimate prank - Sao Paulo's traffic jam is around 160 to 200 km every day - and this is a let's-make-fun-of-Canadians blog, even when we recognize a ob well done.
But the fact is, the public transportation system works. Even when it "doesn't", at a spoiled Canadian point of view, it does: "Oh my God! Where is this f**king bus! It's two minutes late!" - said the disbelieving Canadian. "Only two?!" - answer loudly the also disbelieving Brazilian.
P.S.: The one in the photo is te one a take everyday to school: 16 - Arbutus > 29th Avenue Station.
StarHortonBlenz
It wasn't my intention to bring this up right now, but once the subject broke into the last post, let's do it.Raised in Belo Horizonte, the world capital of pubs, barrooms and related, I'm used, since a young breed, to see one of those noble enterprises at each street corner. It doesn't seems akward to me to find bakeries and pharmacies side-by-side in every Brazilian city's blocks.
But here, they love their Coffee. StarHortonBlenz (SHB) is a Frankenstein created by the fusion of Starbucks, Tim Hortons e Blenz. Walk arround Downtown Vancouver without stumble in one of those is pratically impossible. If you stop anywhere in Downtown and, as a gazell would do it perform a Pirouette Arabesque, at some point of the spin you'll find yourself facing a SHB.
|| Pause.
For those, who just like me, have no idea of what is a Pirouette Arabesque, the definition:
A pirouette is a especial spin, usually related with ballet. A arabesque is when you lift your leg 90˚behind you. A pirouette arabesque is a mix of both. It is, by itself, a surreal scene that I had the misfortune of seen in my second day in Vancouver. Now imagine a bearded 200lbs dude, wearing a Hell's Angels leather jacket, ballerina skirt, ballerina socks and soldier's boots doing it at the corner of Burrard and Alberni.
> Play.
Where was I? Oh... yes. The SHB and its Coffees. Yeah, they're everywhere.
Oh, but we Brazilians love coffee too, don't we? They don't. When I referred to the product sold here as Coffee, italic, i wasn't trying to make it look cool. I was trying to separate what they sell here from real coffee. Not this tea.
The easiest way out is to order the Expresso. Grazie Italia! But even then, don't expect more than some strong black tea. Francesco, a italian-Canadian PLI teacher, told me that I'll be able to find some really good coffee at some places on Commercial Drive. I have to check it.
Until then, does anyone know where can I find a StarHortonBlenz nearby?
Raincouver, BC, Canada
Vancouver, Raincouver. Come on... Don't make me explain what is already obvious. Anyway, just in case we have some reader with a hair as golden as a wheat field, and 'cause it's not a big deal for me to write a few more lines on Van's weather, here we go. Another reason is that, according to Ken, my WPP teacher, there is no better way to start a conversation with a stranger in the streets on Vancouver.
Arrived at the YVR and want to star a conversation with a Van-person at the StarHortonBlenz¹ line? Just start to talk about the weather. They love it. They're usually complaining, but i don't blame them: it's just too much water. Apparently the statistic rules here have been changed to fit the Van City forecast style: if they say that the P.O.P (Probability of Precipitation) is 20%, they mean that it's 120%. The 0% is actually 100%. Of course that i doesn't rain every 365(6) days of the year, but if they say that there is a slight chance of rain, you better wear your boots, close up the raincoat and take an umbrella with you, just in case. No, don't expect a tropical rain, because we're not in the tropics. The rain here comes in homeopathic doses.
Unfortunately I wasn't able to put my hands in some data on the audience share in Vancouver, but judging by the pre-disposition of the local population in "weather conversations", The Weather Channel is probably the #1 broadcaster in Vancouver. While in Brazil there is no football² match before the end of the 9pm soap opera, here there's nothing before the 9pm meteorologic forecast.
---
¹ This topic deserve a post of its own. Coming soon.
² It is football, people, not soccer. Ask the Queen.
Arrived at the YVR and want to star a conversation with a Van-person at the StarHortonBlenz¹ line? Just start to talk about the weather. They love it. They're usually complaining, but i don't blame them: it's just too much water. Apparently the statistic rules here have been changed to fit the Van City forecast style: if they say that the P.O.P (Probability of Precipitation) is 20%, they mean that it's 120%. The 0% is actually 100%. Of course that i doesn't rain every 365(6) days of the year, but if they say that there is a slight chance of rain, you better wear your boots, close up the raincoat and take an umbrella with you, just in case. No, don't expect a tropical rain, because we're not in the tropics. The rain here comes in homeopathic doses.
Unfortunately I wasn't able to put my hands in some data on the audience share in Vancouver, but judging by the pre-disposition of the local population in "weather conversations", The Weather Channel is probably the #1 broadcaster in Vancouver. While in Brazil there is no football² match before the end of the 9pm soap opera, here there's nothing before the 9pm meteorologic forecast.
---
¹ This topic deserve a post of its own. Coming soon.
² It is football, people, not soccer. Ask the Queen.
What the hell is this?!
Starting.
Eu sou, I mean, I am Henrique Pinheiro. Born in Belo Horizonte, capital of the beautiful state of Minas Gerais, Brazil, 28 y.o., fan of the Mighty Bunnies (don't laugh), graphic designer and spending some time in Vancouver, Canada, in order to actually use my English language that so far had only been used in the absence of sub titles on screen and/or the SAP key on the remote control.
But, although, however, in the meantime, I was a little bit afraid that after 24 weeks abroad I could forget how to speak Portuguese, pouvez-vous comprendre? Capice?
So, I thought: why don't I keep a blog where, besides the preservation of my Portuguese-speaking heritage, I'll also have the chance of register my experiences and impressions? Perfect. Then the "Lado B" was born. But after hundreds and hundreds of emails - none - from the non-Portuguese-speakers people avid for my texts in English, I realized that it could be also a great chance of improve my English writing skills. Two times perfect.
"But A Side?" - may ask the prying reader. I'll explain, JohnnyEZ-O¹! Lado B in Portuguese means B Side, like those in the old LPs². So, what complete B Side is... come on... you can do it... YES! A Side.
A Side also provides "a side" of the story. My side, my point of view, with a Brazilian sense of humor, which, by the way, may be considered a little bit acid. Or sarcastic. Or cheesy. Or clever. Or raunchy. Or all of it. Or neither. It doesn't matter. In this little piece of cyber-land, I'm the one pulling the strings, so you can relax and have fun or leave and never come back.
So do whatever you please, but just don't take it personal, because that's not the point here. And if you don't find the jokes funny, you can always laugh on my Tarzanic-English writing style. =)
P.S.: Talking about a Tarzanic-English, any review on my grammar, spelling and general mistakes are more than welcome. English is not my first language. - Who am I trying to kid, I can't even write in my own language... =p
---
¹ A JohnnyEZ-O can be anyone. Kind of my personal way of saying John Doe.
² If you're born after 1980s, click here.
Eu sou, I mean, I am Henrique Pinheiro. Born in Belo Horizonte, capital of the beautiful state of Minas Gerais, Brazil, 28 y.o., fan of the Mighty Bunnies (don't laugh), graphic designer and spending some time in Vancouver, Canada, in order to actually use my English language that so far had only been used in the absence of sub titles on screen and/or the SAP key on the remote control.
But, although, however, in the meantime, I was a little bit afraid that after 24 weeks abroad I could forget how to speak Portuguese, pouvez-vous comprendre? Capice?
So, I thought: why don't I keep a blog where, besides the preservation of my Portuguese-speaking heritage, I'll also have the chance of register my experiences and impressions? Perfect. Then the "Lado B" was born. But after hundreds and hundreds of emails - none - from the non-Portuguese-speakers people avid for my texts in English, I realized that it could be also a great chance of improve my English writing skills. Two times perfect.
"But A Side?" - may ask the prying reader. I'll explain, JohnnyEZ-O¹! Lado B in Portuguese means B Side, like those in the old LPs². So, what complete B Side is... come on... you can do it... YES! A Side.
A Side also provides "a side" of the story. My side, my point of view, with a Brazilian sense of humor, which, by the way, may be considered a little bit acid. Or sarcastic. Or cheesy. Or clever. Or raunchy. Or all of it. Or neither. It doesn't matter. In this little piece of cyber-land, I'm the one pulling the strings, so you can relax and have fun or leave and never come back.
So do whatever you please, but just don't take it personal, because that's not the point here. And if you don't find the jokes funny, you can always laugh on my Tarzanic-English writing style. =)
P.S.: Talking about a Tarzanic-English, any review on my grammar, spelling and general mistakes are more than welcome. English is not my first language. - Who am I trying to kid, I can't even write in my own language... =p
---
¹ A JohnnyEZ-O can be anyone. Kind of my personal way of saying John Doe.
² If you're born after 1980s, click here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
