Um dia perfeito/ A perfect day

O despertador toca e eu percebo que estou atrasada. maldito telefone novo. Eu ainda não aprendi a lidar com o alarme dele.
Saio correndo de casa, pego a roupa de ginática e me jogo no carro. Tenho poucos minutos para chegar na cozinha.

The alarm goes off  and I realize I'm late. damn  phone. I still have not learned to deal with it's alarm.
I jump out of bed, get my gym clothes and  throw myself in the car. I have a few minutes to get to the kitchen.




Na verdade, hoje nós não temos nenhum pedido. Eu nem precisaria abrir, mas como a nossa vendedora está sem chips para levar para os clientes, eu resolvi chamar a turma toda.
O cozinheiro para fazer as chips, a motorista para ajudar a empacota-las ( e depois ir fazer propaganda também), a vendedora para ajudar com os saquinhos...e eu pra fazer o que precisar.
Mas sem stress por que ás 10 eu já marquei YOGA.
Vai ser um dia tranquilo. e eu vou aproveitar para descansar, já que trabalhei um monte esse fim de semana.

In fact, today we have no orders. I do not even need to open the business, but as our sales lady is out of chips to bring to customers, I decided to call the whole team in.
The cook will make chips, the driver can help pack them (and then go advertise too), the saleswoman to help with the bags ... and I always can do bits and pieces.
But today will be a stress free day - I even booked yoga for 10 am.





Chego na cozinha e ninguém estava lá ainda. Todo mundo atrasado.
Pouco depois descubro que a motorista não vai trabalhar.

I get to the kitchen on time and no one was there yet. Everyone was late to work.
Then the driver call in sick




O cozinheiro chega e o cortador de vegetais não está funcionando.
Mexe daqui, mexe dali, resolvemos ir ver o disjuntor. A caminho da caixa de força, eu sinto um cheiro horrivel. Quando olho na direçãop do corredor, vejo que o banheiro inundou e tem água suja por todos os lados. MERDA! Literalmente.
Ao invés de chorar, continuo procurando uma solução pro cortador de vegetais. Quando eu já estava botando o bendito no carro para levar para consertar, tenho a brilhante idéia de colocar em outra tomada - numa outra parede.
Voilá. O problema não é o cortador, mas a eletricidade da cozinha. ( O que é pior?)


The cook arrives and finds out our slicer is not working.
We investigate and after putting the whole thing apart,  we decided to go check the breaker. On our way to the breaker I scent horrible smell and I  I see  the bathroom  has flooded and there is water everywhere. SHIT! Literally.
Instead of crying, I keep trying to solve the slicer issue. One problem at the time is my new slogan. When I was ready to give up and take it to the mechanic, I decide to try one last thing and plug it in another outlet. 
Voila. The problem is not the slicer, but the kitchen's electricity. (Which is worse?)



Com o problema do cortador resolvido, me dedico a resolver a merda do banheiro. Primeiro vem o encanador e me diz que o banheiro entupiu, inundou e desentupiu sozinho, durante o fim de semana. Parece até coisa de alma penada.
Por via das duvidas, mando ele reinstalar o vaso e vedar tudo o que for possivel, para evitar futuras porcalhadas.
Os caras vão embora e me deixam com um banheiro cheio de água esmerdeada ( desculpa aí, não tem como chamar de outra coisa).


Slicer problem solved, I move on to fix the bathroom issue. First comes the plumber and tells me  the toilet clogged, flooded and unclogged itself all alone, during the weekend. If I believed in ghosts, i would have a good explanation.
Just to be safe, I tell him to re install the toilet seat and seal whatever he needed to seal, to avoid it from happening again.
The guys finish their job and leave me with a bathroom full of shitty water  (sorry there is no other name for it) 



Cancelo a Yoga, e fico ensaiando. compro uma bota de borracha? Compro um daqueles macacões de pescador? Devolvo o prédio para o meu senhorio? saio correndo e gritando?
Decido chamar um pessoal especializado em limpar merda ( por sugestão da Bel do quer ler eu deixo, já que eu jamais imaginaria que isso era profissão).
Os caras vem, alegres, sorridentes e bem vestidos, tiram um monte de máquinas da caminhonete, aspiram, enxaguam, desinfetam, aspiram de novo, enceram e vão embora.
Nisso o dia praticamente acabou e eu não fiz nada além de limpar sujeira.

Amanhà vai ser melhor. E o Brasil vai ganhar o jogo. Meu cozinheiro é Mexicano - nem sei como isso vai ser...

I cancel my yoga class and keep asking myself: , Do I buy a rubber boots? Or one of those fisherman's overalls? Do I return the building to my landlord? Or simply go out running and screaming?
I decide to call  specialized sewage cleaning company (thank you to a friend - as I never imagined there were people specialized in doing this kind of job)
The guys come all cheerful and smiling. They are well-dressed and have lots of machinery with them. They vacuum, rinse, disinfect, vacuum again and leave.
The day is almost over and instead of relaxing, all I did was deal with shit. Literally.
Tomorrow will be a better day. And Brazil will win the game. My cook is Mexican - not sure how it will be to work together on Wednesday...

Chove chuva.... rain

É fim de semana e eu tenho que fazer um esforço sobrenatural para sair de casa - para sair da cama, eu devia dizer.Desde que cheguei em Miami, eu nao quero fazer nada, ir a lugar nenhum. Estou fazendo dois treinamentos. O da franquia - e um paralelo, de Hermitona.
O problema é que eue stou sem gasolina e preciso viajar amanha, entao sai de casa para ir ao posto e aproveitei para pegar um cineminha.
saio do cinema, e o dia bonito tinha se transformado em um pesadelo. uma chuva pesada, grossa, gelada, que parecia nunca ter fim.
Parei no posto e desci - São pedro, só de sacanagem, mandou um vento "de esgueio"  pra me encharcar embaixo da cobertura do posto.
Fiquei um pinto molhado. Como se não bastasse, a bomba que eu estava usando não estava abastecendo e eu fui lá chamar o frentista ( que obviamente estava escondido dentro do posto.
- A bomba nao esta funcionando.
- Deve ser seu cartão. Paga aqui dentro.
- Voce não pode vir comigo dar uma olhada?
- Eu não! Com essa chuva????

Sai batendo o pé na poça dágua, mudei de bomba, abasteci e voltei pro apartamento, dirigindo a 5 km/h por que há pelo menos 6 anos não dirijo na chuva, e como os árabes, desaprendi!
Chego no apartamento São Pedro continuava lavando a alma. Dele e de quem se metesse a sair de casa.
Assim que chego ao condominio, descubro que não tinha nenhuma vaga para eue stacionar dentro do complexo.
N E N H U M A. Zit. Zero.
Já conformada, dirijo para a rua, estaciono na puta que o pariu lá longe e volto andando na chuva até o apartamento. Chego tão molhada que nem sei se é melhor eu entrar tomar um banho quente ou se fico na porta, esperando o excesso escorrer.

tem dia que é duro!

++++++

It is the weekend and I have to make a supernatural effort to leave the house - to get out of bed , I should say. Since I arrived in Miami , I do not want to do anything , go anywhere . It feels  I'm in two training programs . The franchise - and a side of an hermit .
But i realized I was out of gas and need to travel tomorrow , so off to the petrol station I went. Once out in the sun, i decided to catch a movie too.
When I got out of the theatre, hell broke lose. The sun was gone and it was raining dogs and cats.
As I got out of the car to fill it up, S Peter decided to play a bit and sent a sideway wind, just to soak me up a bit.
I was wet as one can be, but that was not enough. The pump I was using was not fueling properly and I went inside to ask for help
- The pump is not working .
- Must be your card . Pay here.
- Can you come with me to take a look ? I have paid already.
- No way ! With this rain ? ?

I was so pissed off, I just walked out, stomping in puddles of water , went to another pump , got the gas I needed and rushed to the apartment, driving 5 km / h because I have not been driving in wet conditions for at least 6 years - and I do not think I have the skill anymore.
I was terrified and did not have any control of the car.
When I got to the flat , I realized all car spots were taken. Not one car parking available in the complex.
I calmly drove out, parked on the street and walked back, under the heavy rain.
When I got to the apartment's door I was not sure if it would be better to run and take a warm shower, or if I should simply stay there and wait for my body to dry before getting into the place.

Some days are just shitty!

Tudo ao mesmo tempo agora! It is all happening...

Ando muito atordoada, por isso não tenho vindo aqui postar todos os dias ( nem vcs me aguentam mais, né?).
Mas em resumo a coisa está um tanto caótica.
A dor da Lia voltou. Sim, a maldita dor de estomago que ninguém diagnostica.
Voltamos a fazer maratonas medicas/hospitalares. A média está em tres medicos/hospitais diferentes por semana!
A escola está surtada por que a Lia não tem ido á aula. ( oi?)
Eu surtei de volta com a escola por que a minha paciencia tem limites e a saude da menina é mais importante que a porra da educaçao dela.
Não tenho dormido ( ou é preocupaçao pq ela está sem diagnostico - ou é pq ela não dorme de dor e eu fico fazendo compania).
Temos cogitado mudar outra vez. nada concreto, mas a idéia anda rondando essa vizinhança.

O resto vai bem obrigada.

I know I have not been very good in updating this daily blog ( what? daily, are you sure?). But I have been a bit stressed lately.
The highlights:
Lia's stomach pain is back. Stupid pain.No diagnosis. All her exams are excellent!
We are back into our medical marathon. The average is 3 docs a week
Lia's school is having a hissy fit because she is not going to class ( what??)
I had a hissy fit with the school for not having decent priorities
My nights are sleepless. If I am not awake worried about Lia, I am holding her hand while she cries in agony and pain.
And on top of it, we have been talking about moving.

Everything else is good, thank you!

As fujonas / Missing teens

English version just below the Portuguese text

Fotos das inocentes criancas dormindo

Digamos que em uma casa qualquer more uma familia com pai, mae e duas filhas adolescentes. devem haver milhoes de casas assim, certo? Pois a historia de hoje acontece em uma dessas casas...

Filha tinha acabado de sair de um longo castigo,  4 meses sem poder sair de casa por ter aprontado alguma bobagem adolescente, dessas que nao da pra deixar pra la. Ha mais ou menos um mes, a fofa esta em liberdade condicional. Parte do acordo e que agora, os pais sempre ligam para confirmar onde ela esta, ela tem horario restrito pra chegar em casa. vai dormir na amiguinha? Tem problema nao. A gente fala com a mae da amiguinha, com o pai, com o vizinho e o porteiro... A mae da amiguinha nao fala ingles? Entao a filha nao pode ir dormir la... Tudo muito controladinho, tudo muito certinho.
Ai chega a noite de Ano Novo. A filha ja combinou que vai passar na casa de uma amiga. Ja esta tudo confirmado, as maes ja conversaram e confirmaram o babado. Tudo em cima.
So que antes da menina sair para a balada, uma outra mae chega para entregar uma amiga ( que tambem vai a essa festa).

As maes trocam gentilezas...e a mae visitante pergunta:
- Como vai a sua outra filha?
- bem muito obrigada
- E as costas dela?
- Como assim?
- Ela machucou as costas. A sua filha estava dormindo la em casa ha dois dias e recebeu uma ligacao dizendo que a irma estava no hospital, com as costas machucadas. A minha filha ate foi com ela no hospital ver a irma...

-FILHAAAAAAAAA!!
La vem a  filha escada abaixo, sorrindo
- O que aconteceu com as suas costas?
- Minhas costas? Nada!

- FILHAAAAAAAA 2!!
Filha 2 desce as escadas, mas nao tem sorriso nao.
- Que negocio e esse da sua irma ter se machucado?
Nisso a adolescente dona da casa desembesta a falar portugues e a visita adolescente embarca num Turco lascado. Cada uma tentando se explicar com a propria mae, e provavelmente jogar a culpa na amiga.
Resumo da opera: a mae da visitante vai embora e deixa a filha la ( oi?) para ela ir para a tal festa. A dona da casa acha que nao tem cabimento as duas irem pruma festa de reveillon se mentiram e aprontaram dois dias atras. A dona da casa poe AS DUAS de castigo. Liga pra outra mae e avisa. Essas duas nao vao sair de casa nao. Se voce quiser, venha buscar a sua. As duas estao um tanto emburradas, mas nada que pareca muito serio.

As duas meninas ficam na casa e convidam uma terceira menina para passar o reveillon com elas. A terceira menina ninguem na familia conhecia. Na casa, rola uma festa com umas 20 pessoas, todas adultas. As meninas participam. Os pais ficam felizes por que tudo acabou em paz.

2 da manha todos se despedem, os pais trancam a porta, vao dormir. Especificamente avisam que a partir daquela hora ninguem mais pode entrar na casa, por que e tarde ( sim, a casa e meio casa da mae Joana, a molecada entra e sai como se fossem de casa).Hora de ir pra cama!

4 da manha a mae acorda um pouco assustada. Desce as escadas e ve as tres meninas dormindo na sala de TV. Umas fofas. Mas perai...estao dormindo de sapatos? E que sapatos enormes... Parece ate que sao sapatos de meninos...

A mae chega perto, vai ajeitar a coberta de uma delas e percebe que na verdade nao ha ninguem nos sofas. As tres meninas fizeram bonecos de trapo e nao estao na casa.

Panico! A mae sobe as escadas correndo, acorda o pai, que acha que e melhor continuar dormindo, ele esta muito cansado. ( lembram da historia da bebada? sei nao se esse pai nao e o mesmo...). A mae que tambem parece ser a mesma, faz um AUE e o pai acorda sem reclamar e desce as escadas. Vai la participar do barraco.

Em minutos a mae liga para a filha, para a amiga da filha ( ninguem atende o telefone), para a mae da amiga e para um amigo de confianca das meninas. O garoto localiza as tres fugitivas. A mae, de pijamas entra no carro e vai atras delas. Seguindo as instrucoes, encontra as tres na frente do cinema, sozinhas.

Nenhuma alma viva nas ruas. Nenhum carro. Nada. So as tres delinquentes, olhando assustadas para a mae que esta H I S T E R I C A.

A mae arranca o telefone das maos das tres, poe as tres no carro, bate a porta com forca e volta pra casa. A caminho de  casa liga pros outros pais, avisa que encontrou as tres fugitivas e pede que eles venham buscar as suas filhas. Essa noite, so a sua filha vai dormir em casa.

O que segue e aquela lenga - lenga. Pais chegam, pedem desculpas, criancas tentams e explicar ( cada uma em sua lingua nativa, ja que o grupo e totalmente internacional ) e todo mundo vai pra casa.

E a menina, que tinha acabado de sair do castigo de 4 meses, volta pra prisao domiciliar.

Sera que essa historia nunca acaba?

PS O inquerito apurou que as tres ficaram com "tedio" e ligaram para uma quarta amiga, que por sua vez estava passeando de carro com um cara que ninguem conhecia, e passou para busca-las. A gracinha nao durou mais que meia hora, e quando elas perceberamq ue tinham sido descobertas, pediram pro garoto deixa-las em frente ao cinema, onde a mae as encontrou...

MANHE, EU FUI UM ANJO!!! Ajoelhe e agradeca a Deus a adolescente boazinha que voce teve. Nem todo mundo tem a mesma sorte...

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

Imagine a house with a family with father, mother and two teenage daughters. There must be millions of homes exactly like that, right? Today the story happens in one of these houses ... a random one...



The daughter had been grounded for four months. During this time, she could not go out, she was not allowed to parties, friends houses or anywhere apart from school. For a month she has been out, in probation. Part of the "new deal"  is her parents always calling to confirm where she is, she has strict times to get home. If she will sleep in a friend's house, the parents call and talk to the responsible adult in the other house too. If no one can speak English over there, the daughter can not go. Simple and straight forward.

And then it is New Year's Eve. The daughter already planned to go and spend the evening at a friend's party. Everything is confirmed, the mothers have talked and it is all organised, all good to go. The daughter got the green light.
Just before the girl leaves to the party, another mother arrives, bringing the girl's  friend (who is also going to the same party).


The mothers exchange pleasantries ... the visitor asks:


- How's your other daughter?


- Well, thank you


- And her back?


- What do you mean?


- She hurt her back. Your daughter came to sleep over last week, remember?  And she got a call saying t her sister was in hospital with an injured back. My daughter even went out with her to visit the sis.

- DAUGHTEEEEEERRR!

One of the girls comes down the stairs, smiling


- What happened to your back?


- My back? Nothing!


- Daughteeeeer TWOOOOOO!


The other girl comes down the stairs, but the mother can see no smile.


- What is this story about your sister, back injuries and hospitals? 


Both girls ( the one who lives in the house and the visitor) start speaking their own language to their mums. In Portuguese and Turkish they try to get out of trouble and blame it all on the friend.

In summary: the mother's  visitor goes away and leaves her daughter (what??) so she can still go to that party. The mother who lives in the house ( and now has three teenagers at home - her two, plus the one recently dumped there) did not think it was appropriate to let them go to the New Year's party as they recently lied to their parents. She grounds both girls, calls the other mother and explains both girls are staying at the house, and if she wishes, she can come and collect her daughter. Both girls stay and decide to invite a third girl to spend New Year with them. No one in the house knows this new girl.


In the house, there is a party for about 20 people, mostly adults. The girls sort of join in. Parents are happy that everything ended peacefully. Or so they think.

2 am the last guest leaves, the parents lock the door, go to bed.But before going up the stairs, they specifically warn that from that hour onwards no one else can come to the house. It is now too late. Time to go to bed!

4 in the morning the mother awakens a little startled. She goes down the stairs and sees the three girls sleeping in the TV room. So cute. But wait ... are they sleeping with their shoes on? And huge shoes ... they look like boys shoes!
The mother comes close to them,  and realizes that in fact there is no one sleeping on sofas. The three girls made rag dolls and are not at home. They simply left.

Panic! The mother runs up the stairs, the father wakes up, he thinks it is best if he stays asleep, he is very tired. (Remember the story of  a drunk girl? I wonder if it is the same parent of if parents are all the same now a days ...). The mother also seems to be the same, because she sort of throws a tantrum and the dad wakes up and join the search for the missing teens.

In minutes, the mother calls her daughter, her friend's daughter (no one answers the phone) the mother's friend and a trusted guy who is friends with the girls. The boy finds the three fugitives. The mother, in her pajamas, jumps on her car and goes after them. Following the boy's instructions, find the three in front of the cinema.


There is not a living soul on the streets. No car. Nothing. Only the three offenders, who are very scared of the mother who is HYSTERICAL

Everything is pretty straight forward after that. The mother confiscates the phones, calls the other parents, demand they come and collect their kids. That night only the girl will sleep in her house.
Parents arrive, apologize, kids all try to explain what happened (each one in her own language, as the group and fully international) and everyone goes home.


And the girl, who had just been set free from her grounding, is back under house arrest.


Will this cycle never end?


PS The investigation showed the three were "bored" and called a fourth friend, who was driving around with a guy that nobody else knew. The two of them came ang got the three bored friends. The fun did not last more than half an hour, when they got all the phone calls, they quickly asked to be dropped off in front of the cinema, where the mother found them ...


Dear MOTHER ( my mother now), I WAS AN ANGEL! Go down on your knees and thank God for the amazing teen you had. Not everyone has the same luck ...

It is easier to tear it apart than it is tu put it together

Yesterday i received a phone call from a translation company, asking me to find 20 interpreters to go to Kuwait to work with the Argentinian committee.

- But I don't speak any Spanish.

- I know. But you are well connected. You will find them... They will need to fly to Kuwait on the 15th to work on the 16th and maybe the 17th.

- WHAAAT ?? That's in two days time. And we need visas!

I hung up, started making calls. I called my friends, my acquaintances, my enemies, random people. I spoke to strangers in cafes and restaurants. Anyone who knew a translator would be game. After hundreds of calls, I finally managed to get the people I needed. 20 translators. My last phone call was at 11 pm. The last fax I sent with the documentation was 7 am the next morning.

Today we waited all day for a response from Immigration. Most of us would need visas to get to Kuwait and sometimes they are not the easiest to get.

At 9 pm I finally managed to get an answer. The deal was off. Argentina decided to bring their own translators.

I was sad, frustrated and border line furious. 30 minutes later I had already called everyone involved and canceled the project.

I had to call people who had already organized nannies to look after their kids, people who had taken days off work to be able to travel to Kuwait, people who have  planned their week around this trip.

:-(

Men, bah... Homens, arght!

I bought this gorgeous tree, from a lady who is leaving the island this month.

The plant is impressive - for it's beauty and it's size. It is huge! And does not fit in my car, so I need Fabio's car and good will to go and pick it up.

Did I mention I bought the plant over a month a go?

This gives you an indication on how we are going on the good will front...

Today we finally went there, and managed to put the tree in the car, after lots of pushing, pulling, dragging and squeezing.

When we left the car park, I asked my husband:

- Did you get the plate that goes under the planter?

- uh? No, I did not.

And pressed his foot to the accelerator, to make it clear he was not going back for the plate.

I smiled, not because I was happy, but because after 15 years of marriage I knew the only way I could get the plate was with a big tantrum. And then I would have to manage his long face all night long.

Men, grrrrr

Comprei uma planta linda...ha mais de um mes.

O problema e que a danada e grande, nao cabe no meu carro e eu precisava da ajuda do meu maridinho querido, para pega-la.

Depois de muita negociacao, ele foi la comigo hoje.

Pegamos a planta ( que e enoorme), arrastamos, levantamos, puxamos, empurramos e finalmente conseguimos coloca-la no carro.

Assim que saimos do estacionamento do predio, eu perguntei:

- Fabio, voce pegou o pratinho que vai embaixo do vaso?

- Eu? Nao, nao peguei.

E meteu o pe no acelerador, pra eu nem pensar em pedir para ele voltar.

Depois de 15 anos de casada, eu ri. Nao ri por achar engracado nao. Ri por que sabia que se eu tivesse um xilique, surtasse e comecasse a espernear, ele voltaria para pegar o tal pratinho, mas eu ia ter que aguentar cara feia a noite inteira.

Resumo da opera: amanha tenho que sair e comprar outro, ou atravessar a ilha para buscar esse, que ficou na portaria do predio.

Homens, grrrr

A DAY IN HELL

All this saga about my mortgage and I went to bed past 4 am. Not good for my looks and totally not good for my mood. Crap!

My day was all planned:

8:00 - drive girls to school

9:00 - go with GC to the dolphinarium

11:00 moroccan bath at Dessange

13:00 lunch with Francine

15:00 \pick up children at school

Plans not always come true, and I confess my day was a bit different from this.

I could not get up before 10 am. FAbio even took the kids to school. That was nice of him.

At 10 am I woke up to go to my moroccan bath. Tired, exhausted, I fell on the stairs. When I screamed, my maid thought it was my dog complaining about something. Great!! My help signals are similar to Dog bark.

I shake it off and drive to Dessange. 2 minutes before I get there, I figure out I forgot my gloves at home. By now I have 10 of them, and it seems I am about to acquire the 11th.

Francine, who promised to be there early, was late and arrived right on time, without a minute to spare or to chit chat. She looks even more tired than me, so I let her get the best therapist.

We start our moroccan bath. The heat is so unbearable that my therapist ( the not so good one) leaves me all by myself in the steam room. So I am the client and she is the one going out for fresh air, while I sweat in the darn hot room.

After waiting for a long time ( I keep telling her it is to hot and there is no need to cook our skin before the scrub), I hear her coming back from one of her escapades.

- Where were you?

When she did not reply, I decide to open my eyes and see what is happening, where is she and what is she doing. Imagine my surprise when I see right in front of me a strange woman, standing beside my bed, staring at me. Being Brazilian, I immediately think I am being robbed. Lucky for me, I am only wearing these disposable underwear - which I will surrender with no fight, if it come to that. Thinking about all of it, I raise my voice:

- What are you doing here? Who are you? and what do you want?

- I am here for the sauna.

SAUNA?? In my moroccan bath room? No way, Jose.

I kicked her out with no remorse. When my therapist arrived, I was fuming. The procedure has several objectives. It relaxes you, cleans your body and gets rid of the dead skin. Of course I could not relax any more. I kept thinking what did she really want... what was she doing in my room?

I spent the rest of the time worried, stressed and upset.

I complained, did not give a cent in tip and left the salon. At least Francine and I would have a good lunch, chat a bit, have some fun. I am all excited about rescuing the little fun I can from this day when I reverse my car, an arab lady reverses her...and CAPUM we crash the cars.

Before I have time to process what happened, an arab guy comes along. And another one. And they all start talking in Arabic. I kept repeating: Speak English, please, I want to understand what you are saying...

I call Francine, I need some moral support. If you live in an arab country, there are some things you learn very quickly:

- in an impasse, the arab is always right

- if there is a problem, the arabs will come along and stick out for the other arab

- every time there was a crash, the forener was wrong, and the arab right, even when it was not true!

I embraced myself and hoped for the better (expectinh the worse).

After a long discussion (between the arabs, because I could not understand a thing), it is decided we have to go to the Police Station.

When I get to the Police station, I notice I have no drivers license on me. DARN! It is 1 pm. Schools finish around this time, so I say I have to pick my kids up and run out of the station. I leave Francine at the station as a guarantee I will come back. I drive home, get my license and run back to the Traffic Department.

When I come back, the Station had changed. It was a big party with everyone laughing, chatting and having a good time. When I look closer, I notice Francine is the centre of attention (why it does not surprise me??)

When she comes over and gives me a hug, the policeman say:

- Ah! You are all friends?

- No. I am her buddy ( Francine explains and point at me)

The arabs were all very confused because since I left the Police Station, my French friend and the lady who was in the accident with me, became best friends. In another post I will make sure I tell this tale in detail, because Francine is someone out of these world.

The other driver was very honest and described the situation very accurately and in detail. The police declared us both guilty, which meant we had to fix our own car. Good for me, as her car was far more expensive! We paid the tax ( about 40 american dollars each) and left the place.

I was starving. I did not have breakfast and until then, did not have a single thing to bite. Fran and I went to the supermarket, ate something very quickly at the food court and went our separate ways.

My head was so sore, I could swear there was a whole tribe of native Brazilians playing drum inside it.

I am sure tomorrow will be a better day