Ops!!!! Intruder…

Man, ha!! Listen to this. I usually go home for lunch everyday. Yesterday after I had lunch, I heard someone dropping something off under the door. I went to check it out and there was a letter from the building carer saying something in these lines:

“I’m so sorry for the intrusion this morning. I thought you were aware of my visit. Even though I thought you were informed, I still knocked the door several times before entering the unit. I also shouted ‘hello’ all the way down the stairwell blah blah blah…”

The letter was a bit more formal than that, put you get the picture. Well, I was a bit confused and curious at the same time when I saw this letter. I was at work in the morning, and I kept wondering if a stranger did come into the unit while I was away. I kept thinking if this carer actually had been in our unit, what the hell was he doing there??? We didn’t receive any note saying they need to inspect the unit or anything like that.

Anyway, I left the note on the table but I was going to ask my flatmate if she knew anything about it once I got back from work. And that’s what I did:

Me: “B, have you seen this note??? What the hell went on this morning???”
B: “What note??? Let me see…”

(Pause for her to read it)

B: “hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha”
Me: (thank God I am not curious) “What, what, what???? Tel me, tell me, tell me…”

Well, it turned out that the carer definitely came in this morning, and she had company in her bedroom. Meanwhile, this carer nutcase comes in, knocks the unit door and no one hears him (of course – when we have company in our bedroom, we don’t hear anything that is outside the bedroom, right??). Then he decides to get into the unit anyway. Then he goes downstairs, where our bedrooms are, and goes straight to B’s room. Then he knocks the door however, he opens it straight way... Guess what he found???? tchan, tchan, tchan, tchan!!!!!! An alligator eating a bird!!!!!!

He was so embarrassed!!!! He closed the door straight away and raced to the door trying to get the hell out of the unit as quick as possible.

Man, how awful for him and for B and her ‘friend’. We still don’t know what the hell he was doing in our apartment, and that’s something I really want to know. We didn’t get any note saying he was coming around, and I don’t think he should have entered the house at all without one of us opening the door for him.

Well I hope it teaches him a lesson…

Stupid Bureaucracy

My Brazilian drivers licence expired late October, so I’ve been in the process of getting my Queensland one. Man, I’ve never seen so much bullshit in my whole life. To start with, because I’m Brazilian, and Brazil is not a first world country (that isn’t what they say, but I KNOW!!!), I have to go through the same process is a person who has never driven before. So I have to do a written test to get a learners licence and if I pass I can book the driving test to get the permit licence. And you may be asking “but the traffic in Brazil is in the other side of the road comparing to the Australian”. Good point!! But the Americans, or Swiss or Canadians (the first world countries), they all drive in the same side of the road as Brazil, but yet they don’t need to go through all the hassle that we do (fucking racists!!!).

Now, listen to this crap!!! If I DIDN’T have a licence at all, I would walk there (to the Transport Department) and say:

Me: “Hi, I’m here for a written test”.
Bitch (she is the bitch who assisted me): “Great! Can I please have 2 IDs, proof of address and 17 bucks, thanks?”

Then I’d do the fucking test and if I passed they’d take a picture and give me the licence straight away.

But because I have a Brazilian licence, the nightmare starts. First of all, I have to have it translated by a reputable institution that they choose. However, even if I have this perfect translation I still can’t drive in Australia for more than three months with the Brazilian licence (even if it hadn’t expired!). The thing is, I don’t have this fucking translation. But who cares, I thought that as a resident of Australia I have the fucking right to go to this fucking Transport Department and just do the test. If I pass, I should sit my ass in the chair, taking a picture and piss off with my stupid learners licence.
But NOOOOOOOOOOO, that isn’t what happens in this country. After I passed the test, that’s what happened:

Bitch: “Can I please have you Brazilian licence with the appropriate translation?”
Me: “Why?”
Bitch: “Because you have a licence already so I can only give you the learners if you give me you Brazilian licence with the appropriate translation”.
Me: “WWWHHHHAAAATTTT????????????? So, what would have happened if I arrived here and said I had no licence at all, would you give me my learners now???”
Bitch: “Yes!”
Me: “WWWWHHHHHHAAAAATTTTT??????”
Bitch: “But you chose to be honest so now you get fucked as you won’t get you licence until you bring me a proper fucking translation of you useless Brazilian licence that you aren’t allowed to use in this country anyway. So, by the end of the day, your useless Brazilian licence is only useful to put you in trouble and make your life in Australia hell!!!!!”
Me: “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (That’s a very loud scream)”

I mean, the last part of the conversation I came up with. The bitch didn’t really say that but it is exactly what the deal is. My Brazilian licence is not an advantage when I want to use it here. However, when it is absolutely unnecessary, they decide that my licence is the major element for me to get an Australian licence.

Man, it drove me mental!!! I love driving. That’s the thing I most love in this whole world. But now I have to wait until I get my licence translated to get a learners licence that I’d have gotten if I didn’t have a Brazilian licence at the first place.

Sometimes I hate this country….

YES, I’m a friendly-neurotic!!!

Well, it might sound crazy but I’m a self confessed friendly-neurotic!!! This is something that I don’t try to hide from people, but I don’t usually go around promoting it either. The reason why I don’t mind admitting it is that I don’t think my neuroses affect anyone (yeah, right!!!). So that’s why I named this little thing friendly-neuroses. So I thought I might dedicate this blog to all the friendly-neurotics around. If you are out there, and you feel like you’re a bit neurotic about little things that don’t affect anyone else but yourself, please come out of the closet and join me!!!!

But please note; I’m seriously talking only about those people who DON’T drive others crazy with their nonsense. So, to illustrate this a bit better to you, I’ll give you a few examples of my friendly-neuroses and you see if you fit in:

• I only change pyjamas when I change the bed sheets.

• I can’t wash tea towels or bathmat together with my own clothes.

• Under no circumstances I use the bathroom towel to go to the beach. I have to have a beach only towel.

• I can’t get changed without having a shower first. If I’m changing clothes, I have to have a shower before.

• I have clothes to go to uni, clothes to go to work, clothes to go out. They are all different and they live separately in my wardrobe. I can’t wear the jeans to go clubbing for a lunch in the park. That’s impossible!!!

• I hate when the cleaner at work move my things on the desk around (pencil case, stapler, these unimportant stuff) and he doesn’t put it back in the exact same place.

• I hate when people buy things they will NEVER use, even if it costs 5 bucks. It isn’t about the money, it’s about the attitude!!!!

• I can’t chuck food away. So if I cook something that I can’t keep (salads, fish etc), I pig myself until I bust instead of being a normal person and just throwing the left over in the bin.

• It drives me NUTS when people at my ‘glamorous’ work print stupid and unnecessary things in normal paper. People, if you’re printing a recipe for you bloody wife to cook it for you, please print it in a recycle paper. PLEASE USE THE RECYCLE PAPER!!!!! And I promise I am not an environmentalist freak, I promise!!!

• I don’t like people driving my car (er, my boyfriend’s car). It isn’t that I don’t trust people’s driving skills, but I’m just neurotic!!!

• I’ve just opened an internet banking account (after a few good years resisting it) two weeks ago because I don’t have time to go to the bank to deposit my rent anymore. I used to go to the bank every single week to take money out of my bank account and then walk to another bank to deposit it into my land lord’s account. It used to be like that because I hate computers and technology and above everything else, I DON’T TRUST THEM!!!

• I have a HUGE key ring, and my babe hates it. So if he needs my keys, he leaves half of my key ring behind. It drives me mental!! He thinks I’m crazy, I call it a friendly-neurotic.

• I never wear black and brown together, NEVER!!!

• I find it very, very hard to write without using heaps of !!!!!! or ????, as you may notice in my posts… I feel that if I don’t do it, I am not expressing myself properly.

Well these are just a few things that I can remember at the moment. Do you think you fit in under the friendly-neurotic category??? If you do, welcome!!! And maybe let me know about you friendly-neuroses stories.
Beijos e tchau!!!!

Is this fear, craziness or what???

It has been five days since we came back from Straddie Island. I think I had told you that I organised a surprise for my babe last weekend. I kidnapped him for a weekend way, just the both of us. It was absolutely marvellous!!!!

On Friday morning, I woke up a bit earlier than the usual to pack his and my stuff. I was so anxious the whole day waiting for the time to come to pick him up from work… I had to tell him that I had plans for our Friday night as he had a work function to go to, and he always attends them. But the good thing was that he thought the surprise involved only the Friday night. It didn’t occur to him that we were going to be away for the whole weekend. He actually thought we were going to the Pearl Jam concert that was on, here in Brisvegas (I really wish we got tickets for that!).

Anyway, he was very, very happy with the surprise and we had a fabulous weekend with a lot of food, alcohol and sun baking involved. I have to say that, although I got an AWESOME bikini line (us Brazilians – boys and girls - really like that white bikini shape on the body after baking hours under the sun, very weird hey??), but I’m quite hurt at the moment… it looks good though! We should do some sacrifices to look hot sometimes…

During the weekend though, I was very, very worried about the sharks that inhabit the Australian beaches. I promise I don’t want to scare anyone, and always when I talk about it here, people make fun of me. But I’m PETRIFIED of sharks. And they live bloody everywhere in Australia, rivers, channels, beaches, you name it. And what people don’t understand is that I am not scared of dying, I’m scared of having one of those animals serving themselves with a few bits of me (legs, feet, a hand – or two - , arm) but keeping me alive and making me live with the pain and the loss. Not even mentioning the terror of coming across one of them in the water, where they are five zillion times faster then me, having to look straight into their teeth. Believe me, you won’t ever meet anyone who fears sharks more than I do! Well, why am I telling you this story again? Ah! To tell you that my babe wasn’t allowed in the water without me (funny!! Not the other way around) just in case a shark was around. I’d be too worried about him. Imagine if a shark actually came?? And he was there by himself??? Know that I’d make a difference…ah!! Forget it!!! It’s too hard to explain why my almost thirty-year old boyfriend wasn’t allowed in the water without me. Also, both of us were only allowed to have a very, super quick deep in the water… so the sharks wouldn’t bother with us.

Now that I’m actually writing about this fear I have of sharks, I’m starting to realise that I’m very, very crazy!!! Do you also want to know one of the prerequisites for me to get into the water in an Australian beach? I need heaps of people around. My babe asks me why, considering that if a shark comes no one will be able to help anyone…and my answer is (and I try very hard to believe it!) that they will get distracted by so many people that they will leave me alone. There are always a few people that are swimming further away from the shore than I am. Man, this is sick!!!!

Throwing a few thoughts in the air

There isn’t much I want to write about today but there are a few thoughts I’d like to share…

I’m so excited that, for the first time ever, I’m taking my babe to a romantic weekend away. I never could afford it before, and he’s always surprising me (I LOVE surprises!!) and being very nice to me, so I thought now is my turn to be lovely to him. I’m taking him to a small Island in the south-east coast of Queensland.

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Last night I couldn’t sleep much :( I’ve been so addicted to a few bloggs that I’ve been reading, and they are so inspiring, that I kept waking up, but kinda of being half asleep, thinking of these bloggs and what I could write to make mine more interesting… I love reading and amusing myself with some excellent bloggs that are out there.

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I spoke to my mum last night and she sounded much better. I haven’t told you this yet but she’s been depressed for two years now, I think. But she had always been up and down. In the last three to four weeks though, she was absolutely shit!!! I mean, she was crying pretty much everyday, talking nonsense, very depressed. For me it’s very hard as I live a few continents away from her, and I can’t help her much. It’s strange, and very bloody difficult to see (hear, I mean) her that way. She’s always been my strength, my balance, she always encouraged me and took care of me. And now she is so lonely, fragile, weak, depressed!!!

She wants to come over to stay with me for a while. But I don’t think it’s a good idea, as she doesn’t speak a word in English, and she’d feel even lonelier here, as I have to go to the ‘glamorous’ work everyday (as in week day).

It’s a different thing here compare to home. There she is in her own habitat, and even though she hasn’t been that great, at least there are people there that she can talk to. I guess I say these things to myself to make me feel better. I hope you don’t think I’m a selfish bitch who prefers to leave her mother suffering instead of sacrificing her freedom. Am I that bitch??? Am I really doing that to preserve my freedom??? Well, I don’t actually think so. I love mum more than anyone else in this world. She’s my hero and I’m doing this for her own good. But where was I going with this blog again??

Ah!!! I remember now… I was saying that I spoke to her and she sounded much better. A good friend of hers (who lives in another city), came over to visit mum. I think that’s why she is happier. Think all mum wants now is a bit of attention and companionship. So good on her friend who can bring mum this happiness. I actually ask mum just before I was saying good-bye, “please be happy like that for a while. I’m proud of you and I love the sound of your happy voice. I missed this. Please be well and happy again.” Sigh!!! I’m suffering with this…

Melbourne Cup...go,go,go!!!!!

Today we have a HUGE horse race Carnival here is Australia. Every year they hold this event on the first Tuesday of November. It’s heaps of fun!!! The boys get all dressed up in charming suits or sometimes they choose to be a bit funny and more creative, and they try colourful suits or sometimes costumes (I'm trying to upload a photo to show you but blogg has been a bitch and it won't let me). The girls go through heaps of trouble to look amazing! And most of them do it very well. They all wear very posh hats and the most attractive dresses. Every year they have a contest to see who has the most beautiful outfit of the day.

This event is called Melbourne Cup, and of course you can tell by the name, that’s held in Melbourne (ddduuhhhhh!!!!!). The whole country stops at 2pm (and in a few states at 3pm) to see the 24 horses racing, trying to collect the main prize, which I don’t know exactly how much, but I think it’s around one million Aussie dollars.

Not being an Aussie myself, I have to say that in my first year in Australia, I was chocked with the Australians’ obsession with horse racing, and with the Melbourne Cup in particular. Even the few people who don’t gamble normally (there aren’t too many of them here in Australia), make sure they make their way to a TAB (I don’t know what the name stands for but I know it’s a kind of a betting bank full of smelly people, wearing some weird clothes etc) to place their bets.

Here at my ‘glamorous’ work, we had a sweep. So I got the list of all the 24 horses and wrote them in a paper so we could gamble a bit and have some fun. So each one of us got the chance to pick at least two papers out of the hat, and for each horse you get, it costs two dollars. So I collected AU$48, and the person who picked the winner (horse) will score AU$40. And the person who picked up the loser, the last horse to come, will get AU$8. That sounds good. At least once in a while the loser gets to win something…

Well, but what I thought was quite funny is the fact that we are all having a bbq this arvo, and the company is providing the food and the alcohol. But the boss MADE SURE that everyone knew that partners weren’t allowed in. But guess who is coming??? His wife!!! Also, when we were doing the game with the horses, everyone picked two horses only to make sure everyone would have at least two options. He came in running, saying that his wife was coming so he could pick four horses. It kinda of pissed me off, as I had to have only two horses in the end while the only partner allowed in the bloody bbq had her two.

Now, I have to say that I'm happy about one thing. He picked four very shitty horses, so even though he has more chances to win than everyone else, he still is going to lose. Hehehehehehehe… I’m keeping records of every horse each of us picked and he is so disappointed that he got shitty horse that he wrote down under his name in the record (I didn’t see him doing it. I just know it’s his hand writing!) the name of the four best horses... What a nut case??? He should be happy that at least he’ll have his partner at the bbq to cry with when one of us gets the first prize!

Go, go go horses!!!!! Good luck to everyone!!!!

Thank God for the ‘pregnant woman top’!

I’ve been feeling very, very fat lately. My friends keep laughing at me when I say that because they reckon I’m just crazy! Well, I tell you. When I was in high school, all I wanted was put on some weight. I was skinny and very tall, so not many guys were interested in me (I still don’t know how I managed to kiss a lot during high school…). I come from a place where big bums, nice worked out legs and small waist are the bomb!!!

Yeah, now I cynically say that I have to loose some weight. But I DO!!!!!! I’m still tall, I still have the long and skinny legs, but my tummy, oh boy, my tummy isn’t looking its best. I used to love wearing my small tops, and showing off my ribs (there wasn’t much skin in that time!). But know all I can wear is the pregnant woman tops, you know the ones that are tight around the breast but they get loose from there downwards? Thank God for the pregnant woman top!

So, to solve this problem, my boyfriend and I started a diet together. It isn’t really a proper diet, it’s more like healthy eating. We’ve been eating fish, veggies and salad, instead of my old favourites (burgers, pizzas, junk food!). It’s going well, although we only started it five days ago.

Now, the next step is the exercises. PAIN, PAIN, PAIN!!! I was dieing to do kick boxing as I think it’s great for girls to know how to defend themselves, and be able to kick some asses. We went to check out the place but the babe wasn’t very happy with the idea. He said that the gym was full of men with high level of testosterones, WHAT???????????????????????????? Hahahahhahahahhahahhahahha… how funny is that? Who would say something like that?

The bottom of the story, he convinced me that he would help me with the boxing exercises by training me himself. He bought the boxing gloves and off we went for the first session last night in the park. I have to say, it was great, but ouch!!! After a few good years being so sedentary, I’m in absolutely PAIN!!! My arms hurt, my legs, my abs, everything!!!

I hate exercising! I wish I could just blink my eye and make it happen. I would like to have muscly legs, a six-pack and I would LOVE to be able to wave good buy without having to hold the skin hanging from my arm…PAIN, PAIN,PAIN!!!!