years, today.

That's how long we have loved each other for.

It doesn't feel long. It feels timeless. And with each year, the thought of a life without you seems more and more unbearable.

te amo.


Let Joy Be Unconfined

It's the challenge that makes me adore this city. Not the kind of defined ones that we set for ourselves (as in "I'm gonna learn how to play the banjo" or something similar - although i do DO that all the time, just for the sake of having a taste of it), but the daily challenges, visual challenges, thrown at your face constantly. Only yesterday, I saw this lady, mid-30s, fully clad in spandex and gym gear, jogging WHILE pushing her baby pram. The baby was IN it, of course. And she was going up the steepest hill near my house, the muscles on her tights bulging out with every pounding foot, while I was walking down the same sidewalk, feeling slightly out of breath. I grinned to myself - that sight was not only hilarious, it was also humbling. Until I went to the bus stop and saw two old men sitting at the bench, both mumblings haste remarks and sighing to each other whenever the wrong bus showed up at the bottom of the road. One was a tiny, meager Chinese looking little man; the other, an enormous, protuberant and heavy Black man, his hair and beard a blend of grey and white. When the bus arrived, the small one climbed up and offered to hold the big one's plastic bags, as he tried to negotiate the step at the entrance. It wasn't my bus, but I've got in anyway, if only I could observe them for a few more minutes, sitting next to each other, the big one nearly crushing the small one with each road curve. On my way home, I saw this Indian looking man stepping in. He had the appearance of any other Asian man, moustache and all, except he was wearing, unselfconsciously, an Indiana Jones sort of hat and sturdy, pointy, brown cowboy boots. He looked like he had just dismounted his horse and got on the bus, all imposed respect and expertise. It wasn't a costume, they were very expensive looking pieces. He looked to the floor without bending his head down, in the manner of a soldier. I had never seen anyone like him before, and neither those three other people, all on the same day. It warmed my heart, and although not in a immediatly significant way, it changed my the way I look at life forever.

And this is just a glimpse of what happens here, everyday.



But of course, tired as I am, my eyes shut at about 2am. Watching the little map of the States flash blues and reds every hour on about five networks' and newspapers' websites, I just felt pangs of anxieties. As Juno would say, that red colour is so unholy - and at first, it seemed to cover one stretch of land too big. Then, at 3:52pm, I jumped awake, sending the laptop flying to the wall next to the bed. It landed on top of a half-drunk glass of red wine, shattering it to pieces, spilling dark liquid and shards of broken glass in every direction under the bed. I stood up swearing (lost another f*ckin' wine glass - I manage to break one per week) to clean the mess up, and then I hear the BBC presenter: "It's 4 o'clock, UK time, and Barack Obama is the new president of the United States." Damn. It felt like Brazil had won the World Cup. I shouted "Holy SHIT," getting a harsh "SHHHH, AMOR, it's 4 AM!" back from the boyfriend, who was pissed off at being woken up by the noise of laptops-hitting-walls-broken-glasses-BBC-man-announcements. I whispered back : "I KNOW! Isn't it amazing?"

As the Kung Fu Panda would say, there is no secret ingredient. All you've got to do is believe.


Obama all the way

I'll just say this: I'm tired. Really tired. I haven't slept properly since friday, and that's certainly not due to too much parties. Working really hard. But I won't go to sleep just yet. It's 11:45pm, and I'll stay awake as long as my eyes don't close involuntarily, following the American elections through the blogs (I don't have a TV). I even texted the Americans I know, in an effort to make them vote. That's my little bid for change there.

Tomorrow things will be different. For good.