That time I heard voices

It is not on my resume that I am a very quick decision-maker.

In fact, I believe I am 100% incapable of making decisions because I overthink things.

Still, we might all be here to evolve and become a better soul… therefore, my mission on this incarnation CLEARLY is to learn how to make decisions.

So, I have decided that we’ll be leaving Ottawa. Well, unless I can’t find a job in one of the 2 cities I’m inclined to move in to. On that case, we are staying in Ottawa.

Ok, so that’s decision 1.

Decision two is we are moving to Quebec city. Unless I get a job in Montreal that is SO-COOL I just need to move there.

The thing is Montreal is pretty amazing. It’s very well located and the possibilities are endless.

But Quebec city feels a lot like home. A lot of the vibe I was looking for. I feel like I can just lay on my couch there and be happy ’cause there’s no place else in the world I’d rather be.

Now, get ready for the weird part.

Seriously, it’s gonna be weird.

I got a job interview in Quebec city, where I wanted to go, right? And suddently I had a VERY strong feeling saying “DON’T GO”.

I do not know where it came from. I tried to think and think and understand why I was feeling that, but the moment I cancelled the interview, I was fine.

“There is a wise spirit guiding you” – my kardecist friend tells me.

“It was an angel” – said the catholic

“You are little schizophrenic” – said the psychiatrist

Truth is… I don’t know. And it’s gone now.

A couple days later I got another phone call with a better job offer and I felt no fear. No voice telling me not to take it. No nothing. Well, nothing except a very strong will to go there!

So, I am waiting for a magical phone call that may or may not happen but I am happy I heard a spirt, an angel or that I am, in fact schizophrenic … for as much as I am terrible at making  decisions, I can always trust that I’ll feel when they are right.

A thank you letter to the 3 boys I never met.

When I was 16 years old,  I had a small collection of Hanson singles. One day, I came home from school and they were all broken.

It had been my mom.

She was desperate to see the daughter that she, for some reason considered to be brilliant, going down that wrong road. “Where are you going with this?” she’d say to me.

See, I was not allowed to listen to music. ‘Cause music was for people in love and I was not supposed to fall in love, I should focus on studying. So these kids came along, and she thought their music could only be about ya know… kid stuff. Therefore, I could listen to it.

But as she saw how much time I’d spend in front of the computer because of them, she didn’t approve it so much anymore. Heck, she didn’t approve it at all.

Still, I insisted on listening to them. I built a Hanson website, I learned English and I became an architect under their influence.

Later, I came to Canada, because I could speak the English I had learned from their songs, I got a decent job mostly because of the stuff I learned while keeping my Hanson website up and, 2 days ago, I finally, for the first time, was at the first row of a Hanson concert.

And just ’cause the world goes round (and I had no place to “leave her”) … my mom was standing right next to me on that front row.

She was proud of the person I had become because of the 3 boys I never met and I wanted to thank them so much! I wanted them to know that they’ve made everything possible but it’d probably sound so random and empty if I ever did. So, I came here (and it doesn’t look like it, but I really DID keep this short)

I guess we all have our Hanson stories…

I find mine pretty ironic.

Thanks for Everything, Isaac, Taylor & Zac. I can honestly say you made me who I am today.

Long weekend

Long weekends are wonderful! Now that the girls are sleeping through the night and not on diapers anymore I actually found the time to put on make up – which I swear I hadn’t in YEARS – and smell the rain… I’m telling you, it’s amazing.

We were supposed to visit Quebec city this weekend and boy, was I excited. Except, we ended up not going ’cause my husband’s dad had a change of heart – to make a long story short.

Yeah, I was disappointed. VERY disappointed.

Fine! I was sobbing at one point!

I feel like Quebec city is gonna be our final destination here in Canada. I feel like it’s gonna be home! I can’t wait to go home. I am desperate to go home…

At one point my husband looked at me and said “we should get you your camera”. Which made very little sense through all the sobbing but I knew I had to say “yes”. I mean, I had been waiting to get the stupid camera for at least 17 years.

So, we did and quickly I was “kinda-ok” with postponing our trip indefinitely.

For the rest of the weekend, the 4 of us were trapped in the house, but I didn’t mind.

I studied French as much as I could (I still suck at it) and later I played with my camera as my girls played with their little trains….

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Outside there were beautiful thunders and the bluest skies.

chuva

And then, just like that, Tuesday came and I found myself longing for the next long weekend.

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2 years in Canada

Today is Augst 4th. That means that 2 years ago exactly we landed in our new country. It’s been 2 years since I last smelled those familiar scents that my brain associates to the word “home”.

For the longest time I repeated the same thing to my friends back there:

“We are living in Canada, but we still don’t have a life here”. ‘Cause we really didn’t.

I mean, there’s the people at work and the people on the street, but they are not “our people”. And, since the girls don’t go to school yet, our routine is kinda weird. It feels like a crazy long vacation. It just doesn’t feel real enough.

When we were in Toronto, I made 2 good friends. But we couldn’t stay there and we started it all over.

We moved to a place where no one would talk to us. It was a terrible neighborhood because we felt like we were being judged all the time. The neighbors wouldn’t even say good morning.

But a couple weeks ago, things changed. Thanks to the bed bug infestation in our neighbor’s house, we were forced (and  allowed) to move.

We moved to a condo with a few more brazilian families. Instantly,  we moved close to friends.

Sometimes we have dinner together on a Monday just for the heck of it. Our kids play together all the time. We laugh. We talk.

And yes, we all need support and we all need a friend right now. But these people have made me feel like we have a life here. They are our people. They make our phone rings and we make plans for the weekends. I am so, so happy they are here.

They almost make me wanna stay in this city…

life

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