Monday, November 02, 2009

Asterix at 50: The Comic Hero Conquers the World

Reading Asterix in the original French is an irreplaceable experience, for the wit and for the historical knowledge involved in all stories.  For those who can't read French, any language will do, it is better than not knowing those Gauls.

Asterix at 50: The Comic Hero Conquers the World

Et vive la France!

***

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Music is Better than Words Alone

Rainy Days and Mondays sometimes speaks better than anything I can say.



Talkin' to myself and feelin' old
Sometimes I'd like to quit
Nothing ever seems to fit
Hangin' around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

What I've got they used to call the blues
Nothin' is really wrong
Feelin' like I don't belong
Walkin' around
Some kind of lonely clown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

Funny but it seems I always wind up here
with you
Nice to know somebody loves me

Funny but it seems that it's the only thing to do
Run and find the one who loves me.

What I feel has come and gone before
No need to talk it out
We know what it's all about
Hangin' around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.
***

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Driving in the Virtual World

Do you know what it takes to be a good driver?  And a bad driver?  Well, think again.  I reviewed all my concepts at New Mexico State Fair.



And if, in the future, you see me on the streets driving my Honda, be afraid, very afraid...

***

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Brazil Produces the Best Adverts in the World

This one could well be used in the deserts of the US.  All can do it and save millions of gallons of water a year without flushing the toillet unnecessarily.




Translation:

Pee in the shower.
We want all to do it.
Men
Women
Children
Brazilians
Or Not
Aristocracy
Plebeian
Musicians
Sportsmen
Halfmen halfmonster
Things from another world (* ghosts)
Brazilian Legends
Greek Legends
Good People
Not so good people
Art Geniuses
Science Geniuses
Trapezists
Lovers
ETs
Movie Monsters
So, if you pee, you are invited
A flush spends 12 litres of clean water
In a year it is 4.380 litres
Pee in the shower
Help the Atlantic Forest (* native forest in the southeast and south of Brazil)
***

Under God's Protection

Do you display an outdoor Catholic statue to express your faith? on Twitpic


I can't wait to have my house back, and have a Statue of the Holy Family outside, guarding our house.

My husband better be careful, or the house can easily look like a chapel in few months.

***

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

The Bag


NOT ONLY AM I PERFECT I'M ITALIAN TOO! Totebag (Cotton Tote / Bag)

A bag can be used for many things, by every type of person. Sometimes its function is just to contain things inside and be thrown from here to there.  Some people use their bags with care.  Some people don't care.  Specially at the airport, your bag can be a Louis Vuiton or come from Argos, once it is checked-in, it all rolls without care, they will be all kicked and all will be made to danify them to the max.  It doesn't matter what is inside or who owns it.  If it is not yours, it is more likely that it will be treated as a bag of shit.

***

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Bring Sean Home - an update

Unfortunatelly this story hasn't had an end yet.  We all still hopefull that justice will be made.  Read on the link bellow a brief interview with David, this morning.  And I sincerelly hope to post next the long awaited news that Sean is finally with his father, David Goldman, on his way home, in New Jersey.  May God bless you, guys.

Bring Sean Home—The Forgotten Story

Posted using ShareThis

Monday, September 07, 2009

The One and Thruly Great Country of This World

De Independencia falsa e forjada, e nem assim conseguiram destruir nosso país.  Enquanto vivemos, esperamos que essa grandeza seja alcancada na sua plenitude.
 



Ninguém chega aos pés do meu Brasil Amado!
***

Sunday, September 06, 2009

My House

I dream of a blue sky.  A warm place where I can be with my father again.  I will be very happy with my father, my grandparents and all my uncles and aunts I miss so much. All cats I had during my life will be there too. There I will have a house.  My house. A place to call mine, that will be mine forever and I will never be humiliated again.  God will give me the keys to that house and there won't be anyone to force me out.  The Holy Spirit will be the guardian of my house and evil spirits won't find the way there.  I will be protected by the Holy Trinity.

My house will be bright and warm, with a big comfortable living room, where my friends are always welcomed.  There will be food.  Fresh and delicious food prepared by me everyday, arrive there at 3pm to have a piece of cake, just out of the oven, with a delicious coffee.  My bedroom will have a comfortable bed and a fluffy pillow. Bright, airy, clean, comfortable and peaceful.  All I will need in that house are my books and my music. 

From that house I will never be thrown out, because that will be my house.  There will have no bathtubs, only wonderful powerful showers, one bathroom only for me, and no one knocking the door teeling me to leave.  I will be able to listen to my jazz, Tchaichowsky, Bach and Ravel at full blast, while I'm doing my manicure, my pedicure, taking care of myself, in peace.  I will dance all day. God will be there with me all times, Our Lady will sit in our table everyday and will embrace us all with that very comforting warmth.  I want to eat and drink from the Thruth everyday, and never have to starve or be homeless again.  Whatever happens in this life, it is not important.  Only the True Life with God is what we should be prepared for.

***

Friday, August 14, 2009

Out of Order

I should have returned a long time ago to continue the first post about expat life. Well, that will have to wait a little longer as at the moment I've been having to deal with some side effects from surgery medication. Sometimes I just hate doctors!

Sunday, August 02, 2009

Things to Ponder Before Becoming an Expat

(If you like this post, this is just the first on a series about my experience as an expat. More to come later. Watch this space!)

Sometimes being an expatriate is part of your professional path. Sometimes it is a money oriented exile. Some other times, you find a new love in a country that is not yours. Or maybe you become an expat because you have dreamt about moving abroad all your life. And that was exactly what happened to me. Since I was 9 years old (yes, I was a child) I dreamt about going to live in London, and prepared all my life for when that would happen.

When the time came for me, moving abroad wasn’t an easy option. I was already “old”, I had my career, a comfortable life in Brazil, my loving parents and the best friends in the world. Nothing matched the "ideal checklist for running away". Yet, there was still something missing. I wanted to experience living abroad, alone, in a different culture, and speaking a different language. It was a burning desire (I know, very cheesy! But true.) to pursue a challenge, and for years I thought it would stay only in my dreams. Secretly I was envious of anybody who did their share of backpacking, as it was in my mind, the ultimate experience. I had to go too. It was a call inside me.



There is something very important to know that nobody ever told me: becoming an expat is a one way journey. It doesn't matter where you go, it doesn't matter how long you stay away from your home country, if you will ever return or not - you will never be the same again, and you will never see your home place with the same eyes. It doesn’t matter if your experience was good or bad, it will never leave you. Your life is what you experience, not your thoughts. Bear in mind that never, never any place will ever be “complete” or “perfect”. And the more you move, the more you will miss different pieces from your previous places. From then on the world will be your home. Even your attitudes and your experiences as a tourist change drastically.

There are not many advices that could be given to a wannabe expat. Each one has its own reasons. You can read everything about it, you can talk to as many people as possible, but unless you live this experience, you will never know what it really is. If it is good, bad, valid, traumatic, blissful, it varies from person to person, it is all down to how you perceive it.

Some people are more apt to deal with differences than others. My experience shows me that depending on the reasons for immigration, people will also react in various ways to differences. So never assume a fellow expat will be sympathetic to you. That is not always the case. Some can't understand differences and are always labelling others as wrong. Naturally someone who decides to leave their country to live abroad, in a different language and different culture, will be more willing to be kind with differences. However, don’t expect the same attitude from one who never left its place and now has to deal with an "alien". Be prepared! Even those who you knew all your life, but stayed at home and have never been anywhere, give you a hard time when you are back. They can’t understand differences either. And very few people will tell you that in advance. You will learn by experience. Always.

_____

Watching the English: The Hidden Rules of English BehaviourI can say I had a terrific time in London - 9 years with all ups and downs imaginable - and I tried to have as much information as possible about the Brits. Imagine, stereotypes made me believe they never laugh or smile... Had I read this book beforehand - Watching the English, by Kate Fox - my life would have been much easier. By the time I moved to London, it hadn't even been written yet. It is brilliant, it should be handed out at arrivals in Heathrow.
***

Thursday, July 30, 2009

How much I miss my cats

I'm crying while watching this. I miss my cats so much. My mum is doing a much better job keeping them for me, but I miss them as if I were missing a person.





Lora, mamae te ama e morre de saudades de voce!!!

***

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Et Vive La France!

Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons !
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons !



A Great 14 Julliet to all French around the world. And may the new Bastille reign forever, without bloodshed.


J'aime la France! Un jour nous retournerons.

***

Saturday, July 11, 2009

On Babysitting and screaming babies

In London I worked as a babysitter for years. It was perfect after a day of hard work and after school. I placed an advert in a French expat magazine and it worked very well.

God was looking at me as I only had very nice families with wonderful babies to look at. First time I said I was the oldest in a large family and was used to look after my younger siblings. Truth is I am the youngest in my house and also in the extended family and have never held a baby for more than 3 seconds before. Experience zero, but how hard could it be to look after babies for a couple of hours while their parents are in the theatre or eating out?

I had a circle of regular families, of course I had some favourite children, but I think the fact that I am very calm and loving inspired confidence to all parents I had to work for. They all knew my address and where I worked during the day.

There was one household where things were always a bit chaotic though. I think they were artists. They had an adorable little girl, very active, who never wanted to go to bed on time. The mother was expecting twins. The twins were born and I thought I wouldn’t be called there for a good few months. Well, they call me after 2 weeks.

The house was transformed when I arrived, and baby talc smell in the air. Both babies were crying and the oldest one nervous talking loudly around them without stop. The mother told me the boy was nice, but the girl was a show off and she cried for attention all the time (?)! The instruction was for me to let her cry until she fall asleep and not to give any attention to her crying. I’m not a mother, really don’t understand much about babies, but in my mind newborns do not “cry for attention”: they cry to communicate there is something wrong.

The parents left. The boy seemed tired of crying and slept. The girl kept crying louder and screamer. The oldest girl wanted me to play with her, she was 4. But I was really worried with the baby. 2 hours passed and the baby girl hadn’t stop. I had to disobey my instructions, that baby was in pain or something. I called my mother (in Brazil) to ask what to do. She told me all the regulars: check the nappy, give her a bottle, hold her and try to calm her down. Nothing worked. I had orders not to change the nappies, period, so the baby would learn “to wait until a proper time to have nappies changed”. Well, I had to check – poor baby - it was dry but, my Lord! No wonder the baby was screaming as if someone was killing her. The smell was unbelievable, one could easily say there was a dead rat hidden inside those nappies. It was midnight but I had to run her a bath. Right before I finish bathing her, she was asleep in my arms. And then I didn’t know if they had any baby cream or what to use to calm the rash. I read all the labels in the twins’ bedroom, found something, apply on the baby and put a new nappy. At least now the baby was calm and sleeping. What a relief!

During all the “operation” the eldest girl was screaming around me telling me the baby girl was sleeping and it wasn’t for me to touch her. She even tried to grab the baby from my arms. It was like a battle. I would put her to bed and she would run away and disturb for hours. When she finally fell asleep, I was exhausted. The parents arrived and I only wanted to leave. They never called me again.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Life is upside down right now



And I am complaining, yes! I'm hungry! I want my kitchen back!!! Never thought I would miss washing my dishes.

God migh know what He does to us, my life is so surreal sometimes that I ought to think I'm living in some limbo - as I've been told sometimes already.


Saturday, May 23, 2009

Why We Don't See Everyday Miracles in Our Lives


I love Paris, been there a few times - easy when you live in London - but this time was super special. I was with my hubby, who never went to France before.

When I travel, I don't like going to churches that become touristic spots and are full of people who have no idea that they need to be respectful to the Blessed Sacrament and be silent for those who are there to pray. That happened in the Vatican, at St Mark in Venice, Notre Dame de Paris and Sacre Coeur mainly. To avoid that feeling of aggression, I go visit those ones at mass times whenever possible. In Italy that means you are not paying to visit the church also.

We were entering Sacre Coeur, in Montmartre, and immediately I felt a "call" from the Miraculous Medal I bring with me all times. Our Lady's apparition to St Catherine Laboure happened in Paris, and I've never been to the place where it happened. While hubby was admiring that beautiful church, I was around trying to find a nun or some worker from the church to ask about the address of the Miraculous Medal Chapel. I got the information: Rue du Bac. Such a familiar name, my mother always repeated it to me when telling about St Catherine and asking when I would visit her shrine. How could I forget.

Our Lady of Grace, as we call her in Brazil, or Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal, protects my mum since her childhood, I know quite a number of her miracles in my mother's life. Then I was confirmed on my 30s - this is such a serious step, can't understand how can children be confirmed - and my sponsor, my aunt, gave me a Miraculous Medal to celebrate the date. I carry that with me all times since. My wedding was consecrated to Her and wedding favours were the Miraculous Medal attached to a prayer to Our Lady. She was in my life even before I was born.

Hubby and I went to mass at Notre Dame on our first day, then we planned to go to the Miraculous Medal Chapel next day. Rue du Bac. I even dreamt of it. We walked all day and I could only think about getting there. Rue du Bac is to the left of the Museé D'Orsay but my map is broken into pages and that street seemed like a short one. We walked, walked and it seemed that we were lost. We asked different people and they all said : just walk ahead (that was not a straight line, I can guarantee you). It was Ascension day, and I could only think about attending mass there.

We made it: Rue du Bac, 140. A pilgrimage spot, lots of welcoming nuns, pilgrims of different languages. A beautiful chapel, full of its dignity, pilgrims respectful of its solemnity. So beautiful I wanted to cry but, that was an urge for a painful cry, as I only felt when my dad passed away. I couldn't understand. Inside, Our Lady invites us to go kneel at Her altar and talk to her. So I did. So much to ask, but much more to be grateful for. I didn't want to leave. I would stay there, sitting all day, without moving, contemplating. We still had only a few hours left in Paris, and I still had to show a few places to my hubby. We left. The chapel went with me.

__________

Late that night, I was already sleeping deeply, very tired. My mum called me. My father's brother, my dear uncle Adino, had died, by my accounts at around the same time we entered the Miraculous Medal Chapel. So I am sure he is in a much better world now. Jesus took my uncle to heaven with Him, as requested by Our Lady, in answer to our prayers. I know he is well, with those departed from our family too, my father and my grandparents.

Tio Dininho, descanse em paz. Peca a Deus por nós.

***

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

And we are doing it again

My hubby is calling me. We will be away for a few days, he will take a million pictures again, and I will be his tourist guide once more. This time in the second most beautiful town in the world. The first is Venice and we covered it last week. ;-)

And be sure God is each minute with us, making this trip even more special.

***

Monday, May 18, 2009

Small Things Are The Biggest Blessings


This afternoon I was strolling in Battersea Park with my husband. Miserable day, cold, windy, rainy, and I find London to be at its most beautiful under a weather like that. Suddenly I felt so happy and fulfilled and started thinking how blessed we both were to be brought together by God.
God is the centre of our lives and there is no day without thanking Him for our blessings, our health, our families. Anything else is really small when you can recognise the presence of God in everything.
***

Saturday, May 16, 2009

New design or so the intention is

One day I will learn HTML. It is still on my plans. By now I can't be so adventurous and only try a new blogger template. And I think it looks rather cute!

Enjoy!

Friday, May 15, 2009

And in Italy Treviso 1x0 Venice

For ages people have been telling me I have a talent to be a tourist guide. For many reasons, in various places, all my life, in totally different circumstances. Even with that said, what happened yesterday left me a bit shocked...


Piazza Duomo, Treviso

Making the 4 at the University, Treviso


Via Riccati, my old address


Venice has been my favourite city for many years. It is a different city, not a "live" one, but something that exists as an "open air wrecked museum". The city life is not apparent to non-Venitians. Don't get me wrong, it is beautiful, the architecture is amazing. I am a Town Planner with years of study of Urban History and World History. I can see past the "immediate". I am aware of the wealth of medieval Venice and how it produced what is still the main beauty of the city today. This is the beauty I see.


Inspite of all that, and of having lived 15 min away from Venice for a year, visiting the islands every other week, I still get lost there. I could never get back to some shop I liked or find ever again some osteria where I ate something amazing one day. Venice is a maze. I don't know how to get to where I want if not by boat or with a guide. I know little about specific buildings, apart from the obvious, as I really never had enough time to study them in detail.


All that is being said because I lived in the town of Treviso and I got to know it well. It is way smaller than Venice, one of the few walled medieval towns where gates, walls and canals are still somehow intact. I had many problems with Italy while I lived there, but I fell in love with Treviso the minute I put my feet there for the first time. Apparently this becomes evident while I am showing Treviso around to people. After spending a day in Treviso and a day in Venice, my lovely husband told me Treviso is his favourite spot in our trip... And by the pictures he took in both places, it shows through.


In Treviso:


Walking to the comune in Treviso

Under sottoporteghi, still in Treviso

Outside de Walls, sitting by the canal, in Treviso

Il mio Prosseco fermo i bocconcini

Leave cholesterol in London and have uno piatto di prosciutto crudo e mozzarela


And a real tiramisu!!!!


And without Lemoncello non c'é felicita completa


E, alla fine, Piazza San Marco, finalmente a Venezia!!!


Ciao, Italia!!! Noi torneremo fra pocchi anni

***

Friday, May 08, 2009

Prayer to St Benedict


Crux Sancti Patris Benedicti
Crux Sacra Sit Mihi Lux
Non Draco Sit Mihi Dux
Vade Retro Satana
Numquam Suade Mihi Vana
Sunt Mala Quae Libas
Ipse Venena Bibas
***

Thursday, May 07, 2009

From Hubby to Wifey

Aren't they lovely? The first tulips I've ever received. Love them!!! From the most lovely hubby in the whole world!



Monday, May 04, 2009

London Sunday


For weeks we've been planing to have a Sunday Roast in a pub. In my modest opinion if you never tried it is the same as going to Paris without having a crepe, or to Brazil and not try a rodízio.

The plan was to go to mass, then roast, then a walk to the museum, explore everything and return home by 6:30pm so we could watch The Adventures of Young Sherlock on tv.

I think my hubby hasn't realised how disgusting things can be at the Saatchi Gallery. But it is ok, I'm curious too, we can have a good laugh to say the least. After I've seen a glass of water hanging on the wall of the Tate Modern and people calling that art, I've decided I am now a peach and the best I can appreciate in that Museum is its architecture. Certainly things are much more pleasant at the Tate Britain instead, and much more to my taste.

Well, I'm a woman, and Sunday morning woke me up with a stonking headache for some reason. I decided to clean the house before heading out, lunch was eaten around 3pm, we walked until the Museum to find it closed and Mass was in a different parish that I wanted to show hubby and it happened to be starting at the exact time we arrived for the tour.

Thank Lord tomorrow is banking holiday, we will try the museum again. Or plan B: Greenwich. What I firmly believe, will be more interesting.


***

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Why Go To Daily Mass?

  1. It's kind of like facebook with God, the angels, and the saints
  2. Breaking in the day to pray tames the craziness better than your Blackberry
  3. The local Caf still serves lunch at 12:37pm. No lines either
  4. A miracle occurs every. single. time.
  5. God wants to hear about your romantic woes more than your Twitter audience
  6. Actually, God wants to teach you something about Romance. Think of it as going on a spiritual date
  7. Under the (affectionately offered) "if you would just shut up, you could hear God's voice" advice: lots of precious, rare, ear-opening silence
  8. It's not for the perfect--that's actually part of the point
  9. Did the sun rise this morning? Did you have a good breakfast? Did you get to dress warmly and well? Did you think about giving thanks for all that?
  10. Because Jesus is present to us in a particular way--the way he chose as the perfect way--in the sacrament of the altar. (Want to meet him?)
  11. Life is mysterious. But being present at this Mystery will make the mystery of your life much more clear
  12. Because this act “identifies us with his Heart, sustains our strength along the pilgrimage of this life, makes us long for eternal life, and unites us even now to the Church in heaven, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and all the saints.” (CCC #1419)
    (...even at your imperfect parish)

From a wonderful blog called The Ironic Catholic

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Happy Easter!

Redemption is offered to us in the sense that we have been given hope, trustworthy hope, by virtue of which we can face our present: the present, even if it is arduous, can be lived and accepted if it leads toward a goal, if we can be sure of this goal, and if this goal is great enough to justify the effort of the journey. The promise of Christ is not only a reality that we await, but a
real presence.
Benedict XVI

We speak about how things ought to be or what is going well and “we do not start from the affirmation that Christ has won the victory”. To say that Christ has won, that Christ has risen, signifies that the meaning of my life and of the world is present, already present, and time is the profound and mysterious working of its manifestation.
Luigi Giussani
Happy Easter
***

Thursday, April 09, 2009

Foreign Soul

It is very difficult to write in a language that is not yours. Everyday I try to write something in here, but it barely works. While writting in Portuguese is as easy as a breeze, if I try to translate those posts in here they can hardly work the same way. In Portuguese I have my soul, I know how people will perceive what I am saying or trying to say between the lines? How can I achieve this in a different language? I don't think it is possible.



In English I feel there is a part of me missing. It is hard not to feel comfortable making a joke or expressing inner feelings. I've been many times through situations where people took me as stupid only because I have an accent, and totally disqualify any opinion of mine because I am a foreigner. All my curiosity and intelect diminished because there are no intelectual pairs to share a thought with.



Being a foreigner meant that many times I had to deal with shallow people of disposable conversations. Everything would be ok around a pint of beer at the pub, but I mainly missed those afternoons sitting at the beach discussing the meaning of our lives. That fullfilment is missing and makes me feel opressed at times. What to do in a foreign land?

***

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

More pictures to come?

Gerald really, really loves pictures. Taking pictures, looking at pictures, make comments on pictures. In only a few days in Rio he took almost 1000 pics. And in London the camera is as indispensable as the house keys, so... We are preparing a new venture together, a photoblog with the result of all this frenetic picture taking. It will be fun!

Friday, April 03, 2009

Happy European Advertisement



I love this advert. It is a new campaign on British TV. For me, it is innocent funny, but my hubby found it saucy. Really? Or is that somewhat showing cultural differences? I don't have any parameter as I never lived in the US. Roughly I know it is a puritan society. I saw him blushing with a bra advert. He turned to me and asked, "Has she just said 'bra for big boobed women' ?". In the UK people say that all the time, on TV and everywhere else. If it is rude or not I don't have any idea, English is not my first language, I miss certain subtleties.
Well, I think it will take some time until learn what is acceptable and what is not in social circles in the US. Until then I will play safe, staying quiet. If I say something very wrong, my apologies, but tell me first what the problem is , I can't guess.

***

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Scotish kilts and stuffings

I was trying to find a funny way to post that, but there aren't any. The picture speaks for itself. Volumes!

Want to know more? Visit this website then.

And my husband is not amused with me posting those pictures!!!! Sorry, honey! :)

***

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Biking shorts

Gerald looooooooves biking. He has bicycles in all shapes and forms. One for each category, type of road, you name it. Of course he has all specialized gear to wear with his bikes. He's even been buying bike gear for me!!! Such a sweetheart! But, one thing struck me, all sports gear are usually bright and colorful, tasteless much of the time, but biking shorts are always black... Why is that? I think I have a guess:

Maybe an x-ray would reveal more?

***

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Brazilian media exposure for David Goldman

Finally we got what we really needed: exposure in the Brazilian media. Without Brazilian public support this case is going nowhere.

I know this is a difficult concept for foreigners to understand, but the law in Brazil works according to people's relations, and NOT by the law. Sounds weird? It is, but our culture is like that for centuries - if there is anyone interested in that I can send a list of studies developed to explain that theory, including one from a Harvard PhD Anthropologist . Being the criminals a well-known and reputable law firm it is very difficult for David to win this case, unless there is popular pressure in Brasil. I know Americans are making a great effort and sending emails to representatives and Senators, but this has no effect in Brasil whatsoever. Judges over here can decide on the criminals side only to show USA that here they are those who have the power. This situation can only be different if it is well-know in Brazil by the main media powers.

Having said that, this morning two of the most influential newspapers in the country commented on yesterday's meeting between father and son. We need those to be comented and spread out so to get more attention from other influential papers.

Find the links here for Estadao, and here for Zero Hora.

***

Update: Watch his interview this morning for The Today Show.

***
BREAKING NEWS:
This is fantastic! It is now in the online version of the main Brazilian newspaper - that is based in Rio - O GLOBO.
http://g1.globo.com/Noticias/Brasil/0,,MUL994808-5598,00.html
Now, it is a matter of hours for all the case to appear on national Tv. And this is what David needs to win the case.
***

Monday, February 09, 2009

David Goldman finally meets his son

The visit was fixed in court for today. As it happened before and the stepfather disapeared with the child on visit day I prefered to see what would happen this time. And David finally met his son as you can read here.

Or read the news bellow:
RIO DE JANEIRO, BRAZIL — A New Jersey man and his 8-year-old son have been reunited after 4 years. David Goldman and his son, Sean, hugged, shot baskets and splashed in a pool Monday. The reunion was witnessed by U.S. Rep. Christopher Smith. The New Jersey Republican is trying to help the Tinton Falls man win custody.

A court ruled last week that Goldman could visit as a possible first step toward gaining custody. The boy was taken to Brazil by his mother when he was 4. She remarried and died last year after giving birth to another child. David Goldman was denied visitation until Smith increased political pressure last week. Another court hearing in the case could come as soon as Wednesday.

Friday, February 06, 2009

Superior Tribunal Hearing today on Sean Goldman's case


The oficial site é http://bringseanhome.org/




Today's hearing was at 2pm, GMT -2 time. We don't have access to the results yet, just some brief coments on the Superior Tribunal website: http://www.stj.gov.br/portal_stj/publicacao/engine.wsp?tmp.area=398&tmp.tex...


Leia tudo sobre esse caso de aberracao jurídica na comunidade do orkut: http://www.orkut.com.br/Main#Community.aspx?cmm=70742445


If you are touched by that story somehow, please spread the news. Any click can help.




É muito sério! Acesse.

***

Sunday, February 01, 2009

Still at home

I wanted to say something. But I think I am loosing my voice, or maybe, I just can't communicate anymore.

My grandma is 103, my cat is 15 and my mum is 73. I am very scared that I can be saying goodbye to them. After loosing my father I don't know how I will cope with another loss, I don't think I am strong enough.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Tears

I just want to cry today. No words, no hugs. It all hurts a lot, it hurts. I have no strengh, no excitement, no whishes.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

The Rule for Rulers




This post is for those who think that distance is a complicated thing and want to learn all about distance. Specially if you are moving to strange countries where everything is measured with rules that are very different from what you are used to. Be specially attentive to fractions, they can ruin all measures you need to take.





"Terminology

A ruler used to be called a rule, and rulers would be rules. Today, the more commonly found term is ruler. The dictionary defines both the term rule and ruler, so either can be used, and for this document I will only use the term ruler."
Those are cute. They come in pairs. But not practical when the work needs to be done by diferent systems, you can loose one of them.
"Metric Rulers"

Metric rulers are fairly easy to read - I always knew that. They deal with centimeters and millimeters only. You wont have to worry much about fractions.

The larger lines with numbers are centimeters, and the smallest lines are millimeters. Since millimeters are 1/10th of a centimeter, if you measure 7 marks after a centimeter, it is 1.7 centimeters long.
English Rulers

English rulers, are much more difficult to read. Mostly because they deal with fractions - yes, lots of fractions indeed!!! -, which are a bit more dificult to learn."


Rulers not only measure things with different systems, the difference between the systems give us a complete different reading about the same piece being measured. What can be 10 in one, in the other it will be 3.7#>"£"*@/. So, people take pleasure in complicate easy things, nothing will ever be unified. So the ruler bellow can be a good solution sometimes:


Well, in the end, this is my favourite, since my times in an Architecture office. You have all the systems in only one instrument, you can measure even in some system you don't know, and the best of all: you can easily prove that 10 is equal to 3.7#>"£"*@/ when they are together...

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