I refuse to be angry.

Don’t get me wrong, I am no Ned Flanders.

Homer-Listening-to-Flanders

But I still want to reserve myself the right to refuse to be too angry from now on. And I don’t mean hating the door nob when I bang my elbow against it.  I mean feeling what I felt a couple weeks ago – Read here.

Going to bed and waking up STILL angry was such a terrible experience! I could feel it changing my body. It made my stomach hurt, my mind was blurred and everything was bitter. I didn’t eat at all and my girl’s tummies were *funny* (if you know what I mean). They were nervous too. They felt it.

I hated it.

It got me wondering HOW CAN SOME PEOPLE LIVE LIKE THIS CONSTANTLY? How can someone just handle so much hate? Doesn’t your body react to that? I mean, don’t you eventually DIE from anger?

Actually, yes, you do. Just like the Monks don’t get cancer or Alzheimer’s or heart attacks – read here – , angry people make themselves sick. (Well, not that ANGER is the cause of these nasty things 100% of the time, duh. But there IS a real percentage of cases attributed to it.)

I am not surprised at all. It was a terrible, terrible feeling… no wonder your body gets exhausted trying to keep it going. I only felt it for a day and I was crawling.

So, there you have it. All you fucking assholes can just go on being assholes and I’ll try my best to replying with a “well… fuck it.”.

You won’t stop annoying me… but letting you go feels so much better than being angry at you that I’ll go with that.

Let’s all enjoy the last weekend of Summer instead.

my girls

Oh, how I hated the “eat pray love” lady.

I have always hated the girl from “Eat Pray Love” because I thought she was so ungrateful. She was a healthy well established woman who could just chose to not work for a year and go to the end of the world to find out what the hell it was that was missing in her life. She was doing all these amazing things but she still had the saddest narrative … like it was all so empty and pointless just because she didn’t have the right men next to her or whatever , while the rest of the women in the world, possibly with real problems, had no choice but to suck it up and get to work.

Yes, she made me angry back in the day. But I kinda get her now. A little bit.

Despite the drama and the fact that I still do think she’s ungrateful, I realized, as I come closer and close to turning 35 that I too had the luxury to make some important choices in my life.

I wanted to live in a city I absolutely loved, like I mentioned before and that was important to me. That was settled.

I also wanted to not wanna kill myself every Sunday night because the next morning I’d have to get up and go to work.

You’d think, though, that after 34 years of living inside my head I’d know myself enough to have a proper answer to the question ” what do you wanna do when you grow up” , correct?

Yeah, well, me too.

But it turns out I don’t.

If I were ever to pick the thing that I love the most and never-ever get tired of doing, the answer would be “decorating”. It’s fun, colorful, dynamic, there’s always something different… In fact, it was such a great concept that I absolutely bought it. I picked it. I became an architect.

 

And then reality came.

It turns out I liked decorating for ME and doing things I thought were pretty. Decorating for other people kinda sucked. I can’t handle people.

Ok, let’s put a big “NO-NO”  in every existing job involving clients so I can go on finding out what I wanna be.

I figured I could engage on teaching. So, I tried it.

A teacher is like an actor. I had to put on a show every time I was in front of the class to make sure I was being interesting enough that they would learn from me (and not fall asleep). I was totally fine with that part.

The problem with teaching is that some days I was tired. Sometimes I wanted to go to the bathroom, sometimes I was very hungry and sometimes I wanted to check my phone (’cause I’m a paranoid person with 2 kids)!

So, by the time I quit teaching,  I knew  wanted something that :

  1. Would allow me to take a 5 minute break whenever I needed one!
  2. Had no clients.
  3. Was more mechanical than creative (’cause I am not creative under pressure).
  4. Had flexible hours in case I slept in or the phone didn’t ring.
  5. That paid decently. Kinda.

 

So, I got my current job… which surprisingly checked all the requirements on my list and also allowed us to move from Ajax – a place I couldn’t see myself growing old in.

Isn’t life just great? Am I happy enough now, or am I the bitch from “eat, pray, love” ?

Yeah, I’ll be the bitch from the book.

I wanna add things to my list and I hope that’s not a crime. I mean, I hope that’s not me being ungrateful for the things I have.

By the time this project is done and I’m off job-hunting I’ll look for something exciting, life-changing, world-changing, I’ll design video-games and have time to paint!

Yeah, bad example. I still don’t know what my awesome job will be. But if I showed you that list above just 2 years ago when I was living in Brazil and added “live in a first world country”  to it… you’d also say I’m a dreamer.

It turns out I don’t hate the ” eat  pray  love ” lady. It turns out I too am her. In my very own version… and I cannot wait to read my book!

juliaroberts

Letter to my dad

When I was 13, the school therapist said I couldn’t love my dad as much as I did, because he was going to die one day and I wouldn’t be able to go on without him. She also said I’d never get married or leave my parent’s house because I was oh-so-attached to my dad.

Truth is, my dad has been through a lot. And he’s annoying. He’s getting old and I scream at him all the time, but I’ll miss him.

I won’t so much miss him, as I’ll feel bad imagining him passing by my empty room and remembering me. Perhaps even memories from when I was a baby. I was a little girl in his arms, and I was always there. I was born in this house and I know how much he hates changes. I know about how he found his dad dead in their house. I know about the note his dad left him. I know this sh%# must have messed up with his head.

Most of the stuff he says make absolutely no sense. It’s so crazy I’ve actually thought about writing a book about how he says stuff like “the cancer virus likes to eat tomatoes because they’re softer than human muscles”. And MEANS it.

Sometimes I think he’s crazy, or maybe just plain stupid… but he’s really just naive. The most naive, honest person in the world. I’ve kind of adopted my dad. It has always been my mission to take care of him.

I’ve done everything I could. I’ve given him time. A lot of time to understand that I’d leave one day. And I’m leaving… In 2 weeks. I don’t feel bad about leaving anything here. I won’t miss the house I grew up in, I won’t miss the streets, I won’t miss the memories, I’m not even sure I’ll miss my dad most of the time ’cause I’ll be busy taking care of my girls and thinking about finding a job and worried about something else… but sometimes at night I’ll remember him, and think about him passing by my empty room… and I’ll cry.

I wish there was some other way, dad. But our babies need a better chance at life.

Thank you for saying you’ll be with us for Christmas, even though you’ve never been in an airplane before and I KNOW you’re terrified of the idea.

I hope this doesn’t kill you. I cannot go on without you, depending on my faith on a God I’m not sure I believe to be sure you still exist somewhere. I just can’t. And I hope you can come and join us for good when you retire. If I make enough money, the lawyer says I can come and get you.

I’ll do my best, dad, I promise.

But you have to promise me you won’t cry. I never meant to make you cry.

Love,
Your daughter.