Marshal & Claudia

No meio dessa correria de mudança e pepinos que nunca acabam. resolvi tirar uma folguinha e escrever sobre o amor! Por que com ele, tudo fica msia facil, né?

Quando eu me mudei para a Nova Zelandia, minha sogra ficou insistindo prá eu conhecer uma amiga dela, a Claudia, que também tinha se mudado para lá.
Eu evitei, enrolei e saí pela tangente. Eu não queria de jeito nenhum conhecer essa tal Claudia, que com certeza ia ser a espiã oficial da sogra.
Só me faltava ser vigiada do outro lado do mundo.
Um dia, não teve mais jeito e o inevitável encontro aconteceu.
Foi amor a primeira vista.
A Claudia é uma mulher descolada e espirituosa. cheia de vida e de histórias para contar, ela vivia na roda dos intelectuais de Campinas.
Fazia parte do metiê dos artistas plásticos, escritores e malucos em geral.
Sempre antenada, ela escreveu vários livros infantis e era figura presente na cena das revistas adolescentes.
 Foi ela quem me me disse:
- Inaie, isso aqui é muito bonito, muito legal, mas não tem gente interessante!
E eu comecei a olhar a minha volta. Uns eram generosos, outros bonzinhos, tinha gente engraçada, bons amigos. mas interessante, interessante, não achei nenhum logo de cara.
Foi aí que comecei a minha busca. Ao longo dos anos, colecionei pessoas interessantes na minha vida.
Marshal, o marido, é escocês, fotógrafo, tem vários livros publicados e conta histórias que te hipnotizam qualquer um. Ele é uma delicia!
A história deles é de conto de fadas, e serve de inspiração para qualquer um.
A Claudia foi á Nova Zelandia visitar uma amiga que estava morando por lá. Filhos adultos, casados, a fabrica dela sendo cuidada por outras pessoas, ela pode se dar ao luxo de passear e aproveitar a vida.
O marido da amiga, chama o Marshal para visita-los e os apresenta. Pelo que ouvi dizer, dava pra ver os fogos de artifícios á distancia.
Dali em diante os dois não se separaram mais. 
Uma vez eles foram jantar na minha casa e foram lá fora fumar.
Como eu não queria ser deselegante perder nem um minuto da compania deles, fui lá fora também.
Imagina a minha surpresa quando eu chego lá e os dois estão se beijando escondidinhos atrás da casa....
Esse casal é há muitos anos, a minha inspiração!

++++++++++++++++++++++

Despise the crazy ordeal I am living at the moment, i decided to take a break from my current reality and talk about a couple who have always inspired me!
When I moved to New Zealand, my mother in law insisted I met a friend of hers who was also living there. 
I avoided it, changed the subject, found lots of excuses, until one day i got trapped and had to meet Claudia. 
I was convinced she was going to be my mother in law spy and I was not at all interested in this friendship.
One day, there was no way against the inevitable hap If there was something i did not need was someone reporting on my every movement, from across the world.
Man, was I wrong...
Claudia is a funny, spirited woman. full of life and stories to tell, she mixed and mingled with all the big artists names in Campinas, our home town.
She knew every painter, writer or crazy person that was to know.
She was a published author with several children's books that were a hit. Teen magazines were always after her too.
It was her who once told me:
- Inaie, this place here is very beautiful, very nice, but where are the interesting people??
From that day onward I made it my quest to find interesting people and surround myself with them.
Marshal, her husband is from Scotland  He is a  photographer, has published several books and tell stories that will hypnotize anyone. He is a delight to be around! And I think when Claudia met an interesting man in New Zealand, she married him straight away!
Their story is fairy tale, and serves as an example for anyone who is not sure about following their heart..
Claudia was in New Zealand visiting a friend.Her boys were now men, her business was doing well and did not need baby sitting, she could travel and enjoy life.
At this friend's house, she met Marshal. From what I hear, you could see the fireworks from the distance when they saw each other.
Since then, they have been together.
Claudia left her children and grandchildren, delegated her duties at the factory and left her country, friends and routine to be with the man she loves.
I will never forget one day, when they came to visit us and at some point, decided to go out for a cigarette.
As I did not want waste even a minute of their company, I found an excuse and went outside to keep them company.
Imagine my surprise when I get there and they are kissing behind the house ....

I just turned on my heels and went back inside...

Reunião politicamente correta

 

Toda semana nós tinhamos reunião ddos gerentes, numa empresa onde eu trabalhei, lá na Nova Zelandia. E a reunião seguis por horas. Produtiva as vezes, engastalhada outras.Mas toda semana a gente lavava a alma, desabafafa os problemas da semana com os colegas, ouvia opiniões, e mais do que tudo, a gente saia de lá de alma lavada.

Aí um dia a nossa chefe decidiu seguir um conselho da sua cunhada exotérica:

- Antes de falar, faça uma analise rápida, e veja se a sua mensagem é gentil, verdadeira e necessária.

A reunião acabou em dois minutos.

Acho que a gente pecava mesmo em não ser gentil.

Depois de um mês nessa experiencia nova, voltamos ao modelo anterior e lavamos a alma.

Economizamos uma grana em terapia!

++++++++++++++++

Every week we had our manager's meeting. Sometimes it was very productive, other times it was just a waste of time.But the most important thing was how we used this forum to exchange experiences, to complain about what went wrong in our departments, to vent. We always left lighter than we arrived.

One day, our boss decided to try something new, she learnt from her exoteric sister in law: 

- Before saying something, check if it's content is kind, true and necessary.If not, don't say it.

That meeting ended in a couple of minutes.

After a month trying this new model, we went back to our old ways - and believe me, we saved a fortune in therapy!!

Ha poucos anos atras eu ainda estava enlouquecida, trabalhando um monte e vivendo no mundo coorporativo sem dar nenhuma atencao pro resto da minha vida.

E no meio dessa roda viva, acabei indo parar na celebracao de fim de ano da empresa.

Todos os gerentes foram convidados para uma "noitada"- ninguem sabia exatamente o que iria acontecer, mas todos os anos a gente saia da festa cheios de historias para contar.

A empresa alugou um onibus e nos levou para uma cidade vizinha, onde um fazendeiro super criativo inventou um labirinto mal assombrado, no meio do seu milharal.

Gente de todas as idades e de muitas cidades vao la se divertir, e o tal fazendeiro e tao sabido que ele tambem pegou um barracao velho e converteu num "barracao fantasma".

E mais ou menos como um trem fantasma, sem trem. Mas com muitos fantasmas. Voce vai andando por um corredor, de ambiente a ambiente, e os monstros te atacam, correm atras de voce coms erra eletrica, se jogam no seu caminho, gritam, xingam, jogam coisas. O negocio e muito bem feito, a maquiagem dos atores e perfeita, da pra voce ter pesadelos por anos consecutivos depois desse passeio basico.

Pois la estavamos nos, na nossa festinha coorporativa, passeando pelo barracao. O corredor nao e muito largo, entao nos tinhamos que andar em fila indiana - e na minha frente ia um amigo querido, super fofo. E medroso. Cuzao mesmo.

Ele gritava, surtava, se agarrava no braco de quem estivesse perto. Estava dando mais show que os artistas contratados.

Ate que um monstro mais sabidinho pulou sabe-se la de onde, com uma moto serra, bem na frente dele. O cara levou um susto tao imenso que ele se jogou pra traz, caiu no chao e se agarrou na barra da minha calca.

Se agarrou na barra da minha calca que tinha elastico na cintura. Basta dizer que nao foi so o fulano que foi parar no chao. Minha calca foi juntinho com ele. Recebi muitos elogios pelo fio dental vermelho que eu estava usando aquele dia.

E fiquei mais brava do que todos os monstros do barracao ... 

*****************************************************************

A few years ago I was still working like mad, living the  corporate world without paying much attention to the rest of my life.

And in the midst of this treadmill, our company decided to take us out to celebrate Xmas and New Year's. 
All managers were invited to a "night out" - and no one knew exactly what would happen, all we knew was how good the previous parties have been. 
The company rented a bus and took us to a nearby town, where a farmer had put together a super creative haunted maze in the middle of his cornfield.
People of all ages and from many cities go there to have fun, it is so well known he expanded the haunted business and also created a "haunted shed".
It is more or less like a ghost train, without the train. But with many ghosts, monsters and alike. You walk down these corridors which are totally decorated, and the monsters attack you, run after you with saws, throw themselves on your way, scream, curse, throw things at you.
The  place is amazing, made up very nicelly and quite realistic, the actors make up is so perfect  you will probably have nightmares for years after this ride.
So there we were, having our party, strolling through the shed. The corridor is not very wide, so we had to walk in single line - and in front of me was a dear friend, who I really like. But he is a wuzz.
He screamed, freaked out, was always clinging to someone's  arm.
We were all finding it funny.Until a monster jumped out of nowhere, right in front of him.
My friend had the fright of his life. He stumbled backwards, fell on the floor and trying to recover, he grabbed the hem of my pants. My pants that had an elastic waist. Suffice  to say my friend was not the only "thing" that ended up on the floor. My pants went straight down with him.
I got angrier than all the monsters of the shed ...

MIchael

 Photo taken by Yvan Drake - on the day of the crime...

Foto tirada por Yvan Drake, no dia do crime

Friends are those who come to your life and just stay.

Years ago, I had a work colleague called Michael. He was a nice guy, witty, fun to be around. One day we met at a charity walk and he met my girls. They were 8 and 10 back then. The girls had a disagreement and started hitting each other as one does. 

Michael looked terrified, and could not help but say out loud:

- Oh My God, these are horrible, horrible kids...

I burst out laughing. My children were not impressed at all. Michael became a friend, became part of our kiwi family. He was always around. He pampered the girls, gave his time, love and attention. We never spoke about it again.

About a week ago ( 4 years later), Lia, my youngest said, out of the blue:

- Well, I think we can forgive Michael now. His crime has expired...

 Photo taken in my house, as if he had never said a word...

Foto tirada na minha casa, como se ele nunca tivesse falado nadinha...

Tem amigos que entram na nossa vida e ficam para sempre. O Michael e um deles. Nos trabalhavamos juntos na SITEL, em Palmy. Nova Zelandia.

O cara era legal, bem humorado, divertido.

Um dia, nos nos encontramos num desses eventos de caridade, e eu estava com as minhas filhas. Elas tinham na epoca, 8 e 10 anos. Sabe-se la por que, as duas se pegaram de tapa. Eu, acostumadissima com a pancadaria, nem percebi.

De repente, o Michael naos e aguenta e solta:

- Criancas terriveis! Essas criancas sao terriveis...

Rolei de rir, mas nenhuma das duas compartilhou a piada.

Michael passou a fazer parte do nosso dia a dia, se transformou num grande amigo.

Esses dias ( 4 anos depois), eu e a Lia estavamos no carro e ela lasca:

- Acho que vou perdoar o Michael. O crime dele prescreveu...

 Photo taken in my house - 3 years ago - even baby Mia was there

Foto tirada na minha casa - 3 anos atras - ate a Mia estava na cena

EDUCAR E DIFIIICIL

Minha meninas ja tem 12 e 14 anos e eu morro de saudade de quando elas eram pequenas. As vezes me pego relembrando momentos que vao ficar pra sempre na minha memoria.

Entao, resolvi dividir esse com voces.

Quando nos moravamos na Nova Zelandia, e a Anita tinha so 6 aninhos, ela saia da escola e ia para a casa de uma amiga minha, portuguesa, que tinha uma menina da mesma idade. Eu trabalhava fora e  essa mae trabalhava cuidando de criancas - era a combinacao perfeita.

Um dia eu notei que a Anita nao tinha a menor cerimonia em pegar o ultimo pedaco de comida da mesa, entao expliquei:

 - Filha, na nossa casa voce pode comer o que voce quiser, e o quanto voce quiser, mas quando voce estiver na casa dos outros, voce nao pode acabar com a comida da mesa. Voce sempre tem que deixar o ultimo bife, a ultima colher de arroz, o ultimo milho.

Achei que ela tinha entendido. Dias depois essa nossa amiga nos convidou para jantar. A Anita, sem o menor remorso, tascou o ultimo bife da mesa.

quando chegamos em casa, fui lembra-la da licao recem aprendida:

- Anita, mamae ja te disse que na casa das outras pessoas voce nao pode pegar o ultimo bife.

E ela, sem nem pestanejar:

- Mas a casa nao e deles. A casa e alugada...

DEGUSTACAO DE CERVEJAS

Me lembrei de uma historia que aconteceu na Nova Zelandia - quando a Lili (minha filhota cacula) tinha 5 anos.
Nos todos fomos a uma degustacao de cervejas. A criancada correndo, pulando, brincando e os pais na maior seriedade, experimentando cervejas de todas as procedencias, todos os estilos e todos os tons.

O negocio era profissional!!

No fim da bebericacao, o organizador falou:

- Levante a mao quem gostou mais da primeira cerveja...e da segunda...e da terceira...

Ele foi nessa toada ate a ultima, quando a Lili (lembra, a de 5 anos), levantou a maozinha.

Todos nos rimos, eu a abracei e disse:

- Meu amor, a pergunta e so pra quem provou as cervejas.

Ela me olhou seria, apontou para as garrafas e respondeu:

- Essa e muito amarga, essa e muito forte, essa tem gosto ruim - e essa ultima foi a que eu mais gostei...

Sai de fininho da festa para nao ser levada pra cana algemada!!!!!

Who did it?

I remember when my kids were quite small, about 9 and 10 years old. We were living in New Zealand, and they went to the local school with kids from many other nationalities. One day I went to visit them at lunch time, and I saw lots of kids running and playing outside.

They were all screaming and yelling, and one specific word caught my attention. I could not figure out exactly what it was, but the sound was familiar.

I paid a bit more attention and noticed the kids were only using this word when they were upset. How interesting, I had to find out what the word was.

When I got closer, I could understand what they were saying:

- FELADAPUTA!

Which would be something like

- SONOFABITCH in Portuguese.

My girls were the only Brazilian children at the school. I did not have to think much to find out who was teaching those kids how to swear in Portuguese, right?

FELADAPUTA

Me lembrei de um dia que fui buscar as minhas filhinhas na escola. Os anjinhos tinham 9 e 10 anos, mais ou menos. Moravamos em Palmerston North, na Nova Zelandia.

Cheguei bem na hora do intervalo,e  as criancas corriam, pulavam, brincavam. Uma cena linda!

De repente, comecei a ouvir um som relativamente conhecido. A palavra nao me era estranha, mas eu nao conseguia identificar nem a lingua, nem o significado.

As criancas, enquanto brincavam, gritavam essa palavra descoordenadamente familiar.

Prestei mais atencao e vi que o grito vinha quando alguem estava meio aborrecido - com a brincadeira, ou com um amiguinho. Agucei meus ouvidos, aquilo estava ficando interessante!

De repente me dei conta do que as criancas estavam berrando umas pras outras:

- FELADAPUTA!

Como as minhas filhas eram as unicas brasileiras da escola, me sobrava muito pouca duvida sobre quem seriam as professoras encarregadas dessa aulinha de linguas,ne?


- ANIIIITTTTTAAAAAA! LIIIIIIIAAAAAAA!!!!

Where are my shoes?

Today I went to another farewell. At this time of the year, they are very common, unfortunately. School finishes now, so everyone who have kids, move to or from Bahrain in this period.

Judith is a great Kiwi lady I met when I arrived. She is always involved in all sorts of activities and she runs welcome programs for new comers, she sings, she sells carpets on behalf of her husband, she organizes parenting courses, she does all sorts of things and she raises 4 kids. I am not sure how she manages, but she is always smiling.

Every month she organizes a morning tea where people can see the carpets her hubby brings from Iran, and to make it more fun, she also invites other people and turns it into a "mini market". There are all sorts of exhibitors at her house, it is very fun!

Today was the last morning tea/tribal carpet day, so I went along and invited a couple of friends to come with me.

I saw a group of people in the carpet room and I decided to check what was happening there. Took my shoes off, so I would not step on her "product" opened my ears. Judith was explaining where the carpets come from, how they are made, who makes the, how the patterns change over time...and I was fascinated by the explanations.

We stayed around a little longer and when it was time to go home, I just could not find my shoes. At all. We looked everywhere. Judith was kind enough to lend me a pair to go home.

Honestly, this kind of thing only happens to me...

The longer I live, more confused I get

I have some spare time now a days and I found out how fun it is to play online games, so I joined two facebook games : farmtown and farmville. They are both interactive, and you can play with your friends. It is an interesting concept. You have your own farm, but you can help each other,sending gifts, doing small jobs at each other farm.


The new feature on farmville is a cooperative, where you can join your friends and plant/harvest crops in a specific period of time, it is a group challenge and it is fun. I have joined many, I started others. It is always a laugh.

Last week I joined Anida's coop. Anida worked with me in New Zealand, and when she decided to move to another city, I helped find a job there. Soon after, she had a gorgeous baby girl and I sent her some gifts. We were not friends, but we had a good relationship, closer than I had with most of my team members.

I joined, the coop, the program crashed and I was unable to harvest my crops or plant anything new.

Next morning, I get a very rude message asking me why did I go to her farm if I was not even planting the same crops as her (the question was pertinent, but the tone was dreadful). When I tried to reply, I found she deleted me from her list of friends. Let me be clear here. She did not delete me from the game. She deleted me from her network on facebook.

I was disappointed and sad. Since then I lost my interest for the games. I am not prepared to deal with fanatism or obsession. It is just a game!

Cada louco com a sua mania

Eu  ando com algum tempos disponivel e comecei a me interessar pelos joguinhos do Facebook. Eu jogo dois jogos de fazendas. O farmville e o farmtown. Sao jogos interativos, onde voce manda presentes para os seus amigos, voce planta, colhe, parece ate um trabalho de verdade, e pra quem anda de papo pro ar como eu, a coisa e otima!

Tenho varios amigos que jogam, no mundo inteiro. A comunidade desses jogos anda crescendo muito, e ate engracado ver como as pessoas os levam a serio.

A novidade do farmville e que voce pode jogar com outras pessoas. Ha uma cooperativa, onde todo mundo se ajuda. As pessoas se juntam para conseguir plantar e colher um determinado produto, num certo tempo.

Eu entrei numa dessas cooperativas, para ajudar a Anida, uma menina que trabalhou comigo na Nova Zelandia (na vida real) durante um ano. Ela era parte do meu time, e quando ela resolveu se mudar, eu intercedi por ela, para que ela fosse empregada pela nossa companhia la na nova cidade. Deu tudo certinho. Ela ja foi pra la com emprego garantido, o que facilitou a mudanca.

Logo depois ela ficou gravida, eu mandei presentes para o bebe, nos continuamos a nos corresponder ate a semana passada quando eu entrei nessa bendita cooperativa do facebook e o meu programa deu pau. Eu nao consegui colher a minha safra existente, nem plantar a nova. Desencanei e fui dormir.

No dia seguinte eu recebo uma mensagem grosseira, me perguntando por que e que eu tinha ido la na fazenda dela, se eu estava com uma plantacao diferente ( nao precisava ser grossa, mas a pergunta era bem pertinente, o tom e que estava pessimo). Quando fui responder, vi que ela me APAGOU da lista de amigos dela. Nao me apagou da fazendinha nao. Ela simplesmente decidiu que ia me riscar do caderninho dela. Simples assim.

Desde entao perdi o gosto pelo meu joguinho.Nao tenho estomago pra fanatismo, pra obcessao. To fora!

Saudade de casa? So um pouquinho... Home sick? Just a bit...

Hoje eu fui dar a minha espiada rotineira no blog do Alexandre - Lost in Japan - e dei de cara com fotos maravilhosas das cerejeiras em flor!

As cenas me levaram direto ao meu bairro em Palmerston North, NZ.

Nossa casa e pertinho do Colegio Japones, e eles plantaram as cerejeiras no colegio e na rua onde ele fica.

Quando elas floriam, eu era a pessoa mais feliz do mundo.

Passava pelas arvores com o sorriso estampado no rosto e aquela carinha de felicidade sem motivo que nos faz tao bem.

Que saudade da Nova Zelandia. Que saudade da minha casa. Que saudade da minha vida corrida e maluca, e principalmente que saudade dos meus amigos queridos.

Today I went for my regular visit at Alexandre's blog - Lost in Japan and found gorgeous pictures of the Japanese Cherry Blossoms.

The scenes took me right back to my neighbourhood in NZ.

Our home is in Palmerston North, very close to the Japanese College and they planted the Cherry Blossoms all over their property and all over the Avenue where it is situated.

Driving to work in the morning, the pink floers made me the happiest person in the whole world.

I miss New Zealand. I miss the Cherry Blossoms. I miss my busy/crazy life, but above all, I miss my gorgeous friends.

Before I left NZ I planted my very own Cherry Blossom, and I do hope it grows strong and gorgeous. I can't wait to meet her on my return

Thank you for triggering such beautiful memories, Alexandre!

Antes de me mudar, eu fiz questao de plantar a minha propria cerejeira, bem na frente da minha casa. Fico aqui, torcendo para elas estar crescendo forte e bonita. Nao vejo a hora de reencontra-la.

Obrigada por me trazer memorias tao gostosas, Alexandre!

Mortgage

Every month we send money to New Zealdn to pay for the darn house we don't even live in our home mortgage. It has been working for the last 1.5 years. Until today.

FAbio arrives from work and says:

- Zizi. I don't know what is happening, but the money we sent to NZ did not leave our bank account yet.

Zizi (that's me) responds:

-  WHAAAAAT?
- Yep. Did not go. I sent it again today. Let's see what will happen. The only probem is that our mortgage payment is due on Friday.

I quickly make the maths. No one needs to be a genius to figure out it is not going to work. Today is Wednesday. The money takes 5 days to get to NZ. Wednesday plus 5 days... FU*** ! There is no chance to pay our mortgage on time. Not at all.
So I try to look cool:

- And what can we do?

Fabio being cool:

- We wait a couple of days, to see if the money gets there, then we think about something.
I did not bother trying to recalculate the transaction time versus the money travelling time. Long ago I realised it does not matter how many times you recalculate stuff, the result does not change because you are hysterical/worried/desperate!
I think. Rethink. Think some more.

Just try to imagine this:

- Hello! Inaie here. Yep. That one who lived there. And moved to the Middle East. No. We are not going back to New Zealand. Not yet. We have no idea when. Hey, can I borrow some money from you?

Somehow I don't think this will be very good. Not very good at all.
I keep thnking. And rethinking. And thinking some more

Then I find Bani on MSN. She lives in Brazil, she is clever and sh may help me have a brilliant idea. Together we have all sorts of crap ideas and we make lots of non sense plans, but she brings me luck and I remember I know Dado. FAbio's friend since childhood. Their parents are friends, and have been for over 40 years now. The families are very close and DADO lives in NEW ZEALAND now. UHUU!!

I am sure he will not think we will still his money, and even if we do, he knows where my in laws live. He can just kidnap them!

Dado is not at the office, but I get another insite and remember I have another friend who

1- ( I hope) knows I am not going to run away with her money

2- probably has the money I need
I send her an e mail. She replies from her work:

I need to talk to my husband about it. See if we have this money. How much do you need?

I try to call her. Her office's number is not working properly and I can not get through.

I send her another e mail. She sends me her mobile number.

When I finally manage to get throug her, she already read my e mail with the figures, she finds out the ammount is not going to lead her to bankruptcy. She says she is going to transfer the money to my bank account. We chat a little bit, I relax a bit ( I am embarrassed and very greatful, all the same time)

She transfers the money to my bank account, and sends me a lovely e mail. I go to bed greatful God put such gorgeous people in my life, to fix my screw ups.

Thank you lilian!

HIPOTECA

Entao, olha so o mico. Todos os meses a gente manda din din pra Nova Zelandia pra pagar a porra da casa onde a gente nem mora, para pagar a nossa querida hipoteca. E tem funcionado bem. Ate hoje.

Fabio olha pra mim e fala como quem nao quer nada:

- Zizi, entao. Sabe a grana que a gente mandou pra Nova Zelandia? Nao foi. Deu alguma coisa errada e ainda estava na conta daqui hoje pela manha.

Zizi (que sou eu):

- O QUEEEEEE?

- Entao. Nao foi. Mas eu ja remandei. So que a nossa hipoteca vence na sexta.

Faco as contas. Zizi nao precisa ser um genio pra ver que a coisa nao vai funcionar Hoje e quarta na NZ. O dinheiro leva 5 dias para viajar. Quarta mais cinco dias.... FOD**U  Percebo que nao tem a menor chance disso dar certo.

Eu,  tentando parecer tranquila:

- E ai, o que a gente faz?

Fabio, realmente tranquilo:

- A gente espera uns dois dias, ai ve o que faz ne.

Nao "ne"ne. Nao refiz a conta, por que ha algum tempo aprendi que nao importa quantas vezes voce recalcule uma coisa, o resultado nao muda so por que voce esta preocupado/descabelado/histerico!

Penso,penso,penso

 Imagina a cena:

- Oi! Aqui e  a Inaie. Isso, aquela que morava ai ha dois anos atras e se mudou pro Oriente Medio. Isso. Nao, nao vamos voltar nao.Pelo menos nao por enquanto. Escuta, voce pode me emprestar um dinheiro ai?

Acho que esse negocio nao esta la muito promissor.

continuo pensando. E pensando...

Encontro a Bani no MSN. Bani mora no Brasil, mas e sabida e pode me ajudar a ter uma ideia brilhante. Juntas temos muitas ideias escalafobeticas. Mas ela me traz sorte e eu me lembro do Dado. Amigo de infancia do Fabio. Os pais sao amigos ha mais de 40 anos. As familias sao proximas. Ele esta morando na Nova Zelandia!! BINGO!!!

Com certeza ele nao vai achar que a gente vai fugir com a grana dele pro Oriente Medio e nunca mais voltar, mas se a gente fizer isso, ele pode ir la sequestrar um dos meus sogros...

Dado nao esta no escritorio.

Nisso me baixa outra luz. Me lembro de outra amiga que

1 - (eu espero) sabe que eu nao vou sumir com a grana dela.

2 - provavelmente tem a  grana disponivel

Escrevo um e mail pra ela.No trabalho.

A resposta vem:

Entao, preciso falar com o meu marido. Ver se a gente tem essa grana. Quanto e que voce precisa?

Tento ligar la. Claro que o telefone da empresa nao ta funcionando e a ligacao nao completa.

MAndo outro e mail.

Ela me manda o celular dela.

Ligo pra la. Ela ja esta tranquila, viu que nao vai a falencia se me emprestar a grana (tinha mandado o valor por e mail). Conversamos um minutinho, eu relaxo um pouco (to morrendo de vergonha e de alivio, tudo ao mesmo tempo)

Ela bota a grana na minha conta, me manda um e mail lindo e eu vou pra cama agradecida a Deus por colocar gente iluminada na minha vida, pra consertar as cagadas que eu faco.

Obrigada Lilian!!

Happy Birthday, Ian

Ian was our neighbor when we were living in the Emirates. He worked with FAbio and lived a couple of villas away from ours. We did not meet, until Halloween, then Anita and Lia went trick and threatening, and came back with this fab story:

They knocked on his door and he said:

- Would you like chocolate or sardines?

- My kids, did not even think twice: sardines, of course!!

He did not have any sardines and the poor ghosts had to come back home with chocolates. That was all he had.

When I heard this story, I knew he would be part of our lives. Somehow I was sure about it. He had to be. He was too fun!

Ian became part of our family. He had lunch with us whenever he could and he had dinner with us most evenings. When he could not be bothered, I sent him some food. The kids would knock on his door ( I hope) and deliver his meals on wheels. He adopted my children, and we were inseparable. His family could not come to live in Dubai, and he missed them terribly. Apparently my family helped a bit.

Ian went to parent teacher interviews at the kids school. He was there when Lia got her yellow belt at Karate. He carried Lia's b'day cake to the party when she turned 7. Ian told stories of his children, his childhood, his life. Ian loved entertaining people. He was born for the stage. And we all applauded him.

Ian went to my kid's swimming competition, he was in the audience when they performed their play at school. Ian yelled at their soccer coach when he thought he could do better. Ian was furious when Anita came home claiming a 10 year old boy had beaten her up at the playground. He put his shoes on, and said: no one beats up my girls!!

Lucky for all of us, the boy was gone by the time he reached the playground.

Ian took us shopping. We had ice cream together. He baby sat for us. Ian watched Shrek 2 with my girls over a hundred times, and laughed every time. Ian loved us. He loved us for what we are. He never expected anything else from us.

Ian missed his kids. He told lots of stories about Matthew, who looked just like him, and according to Ian, behaved like him too. And apparently was a great actor, guess like whom...

He missed his girls too. All four of them. Emma, his own child, and Cath's girls, who he adopted whole heartedly.

Ian made jokes. Ian laughed aloud. He played cards with my mother in law and helped us carry their suit cases when they were leaving the country. Ian bought us gifts. Ian was always texting his wife in New Zealand.

He took my kids to school sometimes. He picked them up other times. If he was not working, he enjoyed waiting for the school bus in front of our compound. Ian let my children mess up his hair. And put make up on him.

Ian listened to their stories. He bought coca cola and left his door unlocked so my kids could go to his place and help themselves - he knew I disapproved of soft drinks...

We went to the supermarket on weekends. We shared a washing machine. Very often I came home and all my clothes (including my undies)  were already folded, so he could use the drier.

He drove Anita to he doctor when she thought she was sick. He did not care it took him 3 hours in a stinking summer heat in the Middle East, just to find out she had nothing ( as we already suspected).

Ian enjoyed food. and a good conversation. Ian was a story teller.

Our assignment in Dubai came to an end and we moved back to New Zealand. He was in Auckland and we were in Palmerton North. Far away. But every month he came over. And cooked for us. He met our kiwi friends and made friends with them too. He helped in another one of Lia's bday party. He made us happy.

Ian black mailed Lia when she thought about going to a friend's house when he was in Palmerston North. It worked just fine.

He watched TV with us, he patted our cat and played with our dog. He taught Fabio how to make pancakes, enjoy maple syrup and do funny tie knots. Ian was generous. And fun. And larger than life, but one day he just left.

He woke up, and  fell next to his bed. Massive heart attack. He left us all orphans.

Today is his birthday. He would be 49. We love you. So much it is not even funny...

LOOKING FOR CAROLINE KEOGH!!!!

This friend of mine is a very special person. She is kind, thoughtful, funny, clever. She is at the same time wild and conservative, a combination I have not seen before I met her. We spent lots of time together, we had a blast when I was living in New Zealand.

She is an amazing friend. I love her. To bits. I made sure she met all the friends I could possibly introduce to her. Always.

I can't be with her all the time now. She is in New Zealand, I am in Bahrain. Our lives took different paths, although I know my heart will always be with her.

My relationship with CK is different from many others. She is a very reserved person. She is a listener. I don't have to dispute the floor with her. If anything, I have to drag her to the stage. If anything happens to most of my friends, I will know it, one way or another. Their families will contact me. Mutual friends will remember to call. I will read something on someone's facebook... One way or another, any news, good or bad will reach me quickly enough.

With CK things are different. We have no common friends. Her family does not know me. I am not her next of keen. And being as private as she is, I will hear nothing from Facebook. I can only rely on HER sending me updates. Which she does, sort of does, anyway...

I freaked out about it another day, and she promised me she would write a post it note and fix it on her computer monitor:

If anything happens to me, please contact Inaie in Bahrain - phone 973 39584015.

The problem is that I have not heard from her in ages now. And I sent e mails. FAcebook messages, text messages... and still nothing from her!

So I am hoping this blog entry will embarrass her enough and she will send me an update. Before I call the police and the fire brigade!!!

Sapatos

Eu tive a sorte de ter uma chefe sensacional na Nova Zelandia. Nos ate faziamos algumas coisas juntas, nos fins de semana!
Numa dessas saidas,eu convenci a Vanessa a ir comigo a uma loja fantastica, onde os sapatos eram brasileiros, todos da Arezzo e da Shutz! Imagina a minha euforia...

Chegamos a loja, eu ja cai de quatro por um par M A R A V I L H O S O!

A fofa olha pra mim e diz:

- Sapato de puta. leva esse outro aqui, que tambem e lindo, e nao e vulgar...

Comprei o sapatinho que ela sugeriu e fomos embora. Mal entrei no carro dela, comecei a ter taquicardia, palpitacao, falta de ar. Inventei uma historia qualquer e voltei correndo pra dentro da loja, desesperada, achando que alguem tivesse roubado o meu par de sapatos maravilhoso!

O bichinho estava la. Enfiei numa sacola, levei pra casa.

Isso aconteceu ha uns 5 anos. E ontem, eu estava comemorando meus 15 anos de casamento, desfilando o parzinho, que ainda parece novo em folha!!

Shoes!!

Once upon a time I had a great boss in New Zealand. We actually had a great relationship and even did some stuff together sometimes.

I am crazy for shoes and convinced her to go shoe shopping one weekend. Off we went to this gorgeous Brazilian shop, where they had Arezzo and Shutz, right in Auckland. Sweet.

As soon as I entered the shop, I feel in love with this gorgeous pair. It would be hard to imagine my life without them...

V looked at it, and without blinking, just said:

- Whore shoes. Take this other ones. They are pretty and far more sensible...

I did as I was told (as I always do kkk) and we left the shop. When I got to the car, I had no air to breath, I just made up an excuse, said I forgot my credit card at the counter and run back inside the shop, to rescue my fab shoes from the shelf.

This happened over 5 years ago, and yesterday, on my 15th wedding anniversary I wore those shoes, the gorgeous, wonderful whore shoes. And they look pretty new...

Pais substitutos

Quando a Anita (minha filhota mais velha) tinha uns 7 anos, ela me perguntou:

- Mae, se voce e o meu pai morrerem, quem vao ser os meus pais substitutos?

Eu nao estava preparada para essa pergunta. Alem de nao ter nenhum plano de morrer, eu nao conseguia imaginar quem seria bom o suficiente pra cuidar das minhas menininhas. No meu mundo, ninguem alem de nos dois (Fabio e eu) seriamos remotamente bons candidatos. Ninguem servia.

Claro que depois dessa bomba, eu nao conseguia mais pensar em outra coisa, e acabei tendo que conversar com o Fabio sobre isso.

Nossos pais? Fora de cogitacao. Ha uma otima razao para a expressao"crianca criada pela avo"... e essa mesma razao ja tirou os quatro avos do pareo imediatamente.

Se nos fossemos catolicos, os padrinhos seriam a opcao obvia. Mas no nosso caso, a logica nao se aplica. Primeiro por que Anita e Lia tem padrinhos diferentes e separar as meninas esta fora de cogitacao. Depois, Eu escolhi as madrinhas, Fabio escolheu os padrinhos...e os pares nao batem.

Eu sou filha unica, nao tenho nenhuma "tia"pra chamar pra acao.

Fabio, por sua vez, tem dois irmaos. Um deles e incrivel, maravilhoso e divertidissimo. Tao divertido que se nos dessemos as meninas para ele, elas JAMAIS teriam que lavar atras das orelhas, ou dormir na hora certa.

Por sorte nossa, ha o segundo irmao. E se as meninas acabassem com esse ai, qualquer assistente social ficaria em paz. Alem do mais, ele ja tem duas meninas que sao bem equilibradas, bem educadas e parecem felizes.

Contatamos o pobre irmao, que nem imaginava o motivo da conversa.

Explicamos tudo pra ele, pedimos pra ele conversar com a esposa (que e madrinha da Lia) e ficamos no aguardo. Pouco tempo depois ele ja foi avisando que eles tinham conversado e que se alguma coisa nos acontecesse, eles cuidariam das nossas filhas como se fossem deles.

Anita, tao pequenininha, ja era toda praticidade. Ela nem tinha medo da morte propriamente dita, ela estava mesmo e preocupada com o futuro, com a vida dela e da irma, caso alguma coisa horrivel aconteccesse conosco!

Fizemos o testamento, "deixamos"as meninas para os meus cunhados, e confesso que ate eu fiquei mais tranquila com o arranjo...

Replacement Parents

I just remembered when Anita (my oldest girl) was 7ish. One day she came out of the blue and asked:

- Mum, if you and dad die, who will be my replacement parents?

Of course I had no answer to this question. I had not planned dying, let alone giving my children away. I can only imagine one couple who is capable of raising Anita and Lia. Us, of course. Their parents. No one else.

But Anita, who never let anything go easily, kept asking the same question over and over, until I decided to have one of those long conversations with Fabio. Who on Earth would be good enough to raise our little princesses, in case we both kicked the bucket at once?

The thought of having our parents raising them was quickly discarded. There is a reason for the expression "raised by grandma"...

If we were proper catholics, we would just make sure the God parents were "ït". There are several problems with this option, though. The most important one is the fact that Anita and Lia have different God parents. No way we would consider splitting them. Another one is that we did not choose couples for the task. I chose the God mother and fabio the God father.

I am the only child. No brothers or sisters to call on.

Fabio has two brothers. One is a delightful guy, who was almost 40 and just refuses to take things seriously. I don't believe he is going to become ana dult anytime soon. Don't take me wrong. He is wonderful. And a great professional. We could imagine him taking the girls out, having lots of fun with them, but I don't think they would ever have to wash behind their ears.

Lucky for us, Fabio has another brother. The one that check all the proper parenting boxes. He has two gorgeous girls who are well balanced, well structured and seem happy enough. His wife is Lia's God mother. It all seem to fit.

We spoke to him. Told him to discuss the matter with his wife and give us an answer. If they agreed, we would craft a will, where we would leave our most precious "assets" under their care, in case we passed away.

It did not take long for them to accept the "job". They called back saying they would raise our kids as their own. And we indeed registered our will.

Anita, only 7 was not afraid of death, her biggest concern was with the future and what would happen to her and her sister, if something went terribly wrong. We got it sorted out for her, and I confess it makes me a bit more comfortable, knowing they will be ok, if we just leave without notice.