La Nuestra Relazione

La nostra relazione

e' qualche cosa di diverso
non e' per niente amore
e non e' forse neanche sesso
ci limitiamo a vivere
dentro nello stesso letto
un po' per abitudine
o forse un po' anche per dispetto.

Non e' un segreto dai lo sanno tutti
e tu sei buffo quando cerchi
di nasconderlo alla gente
che ci vede litigare
per qualsiasi cosa o niente
per la noia che da sempre

ci portiamo dentro

e' inutile negarlo!!

Vasco Rossi official website,Vasco Rossi's Biography, Downloads

painting: Couple, Janice Cunningham

18 days and counting

Sinusitis: the symptoms of this infection are headache, facial tenderness or pain and fever (...) cloudy, discolored nasal drainage, a feeling of nasal stuffiness, a sore throat, and a cough. (...) In allergic sinusitis other associated allergy symptoms of itching eyes and sneezing may be common. (...) Sinus infection may be classified in at least two ways, based on the time span of the problem (acute, subacute, or chronic ) and the type of inflammation (either infectious or noninfectious). Acute sinus infection is usually defined as being of less than 30 days duration; subacute sinus infection as being over 1 month but less than 3 months; and chronic sinus infection as being greater than 3 months duration.

(from MedicineNet.com)
photo: www.docmartinsclinic.com

I can't breathe or sleep well, my head feels as if it's in a vice and I have no energy. There's a constant high-pitch humming in my ears and my throat is forever sore; I cough like an old woman and lose my voice easily.

I've been a good girl, really: I don't smoke and avoid smoky places -though this is a bit difficult here in Spain- drink lots of herbal tea with honey and lemon, plenty of water and steer clear of booze; breathe steam with eucalyptus, gargle whatever people have advised me -vinegar, salt, lemon and hot water (grandma's recipe), aspirin, honey and lemon, etc; don't do anything strenuous and I have taken my antibiotics.

Yet, it's been 18 days and I feel and look like death warmed up.
I want to exercise, work, cook, do the housework, take Nina for a walk. I want to give energetic, fun lessons. I want to be normal yet I feel like shit.

Tomorrow I'll go back to the doc's, I wonder what he'll say and do this time?
Oh, I'm so sick of feeling sick, why don't I get better?

Art Therapy

It's been so long since I last went to a museum and/or opera that I have almost forgotten what it feels or looks like; I wish I could travel more and do it more often.

However, there is a solution: when I feel the urge to feed my soul, I put some beautiful music on (Bach, Haydn, Schubert, Albinoni, Italian operas, Eunaudi), log on and explore some of the most amazing museums.

Although virtual, these trips are delightful treats. I indulge myself and get lost in mazes of different styles, subjects, senses, colours, shapes, places, people, eras. Sheer beauty.

Here are some of my favourites if you'd like to share the pleasure:

• The Louvre, France
  
• The National Gallery, England
  
• The Art Institute of Chicago, USA
  
• The Uffizi Gallery, Italy
  
• The Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art (Moma), USA
  
• The Web Museum
• Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, Spain
  
• Guggenheim Museum (USA, Spain, Italy, Germany)
  
• The National History Museum, England
  
• Museo del Prado, Spain
  
• The State Hermitage Museum, Russia
  
• National Gallery of Art, USA
• Arte Brasileira: Universes-in-Universe, Museu Virtual de Arte Brasileira, FAAP Museu de Arte Brasileira
  

For a longer list, go to World's Best Museums.

photo: Peaceful, NaturesPixels

Mangia che ti fa bene II

Like most girls, I started to learn how to cook at home with the women in the family. Dad was also a good cook, and he was always creating new things -his sandwiches, BBQs, juices and smoothies were always the best, and I still prepare them today as he did when I was little.

In Brazil, as in most Latin countries, cooking and eating is a big family thing, and at home we always enjoyed fresh and healthy food: meat, vegetables, salads, fruit, etc and biscuits, chocolate, ready-made dishes and desserts and fizzy drinks were considered once-a-month treats, as they were far too expensive to buy and poor in vitamins and nutrients.
above: me cooking at home

I really liked cooking then and I love cooking nowadays. For me, cooking is relaxing -I love selecting and preparing the ingredients, putting the flavours together and making the dishes look good and mouth-watering. Even better, after my travels I learned how to appreciate and cook different dishes using ingredients from all over the world.
And more than enjoying my own food, I take real pleasure in seeing other people appreciate and devour it!

However, I've never been into anything sophisticated -no time, no patience, no money, no utensils. I like to prepare simple, everyday dishes which are full of flavour and full of vitamins and nutrients, as well as low in saturated fat. I like recipes which are simple, hassle-free and nourishing.

In England I used to watch Jamie Oliver's cooking programmes religiously, as well as to buy his books. I don't care if people criticise him for this or that. His recipes are great, and he is good on TV: he has carisma, is not pedantic and he's been a hard-working guy all his life.

He always uses simple and tasty ingredients which are easy to find and prepare (well, in England. In Spain it's a bit more complicated), flavoursome and good-looking dishes.

above: I love fresh fruit

How delighted I am to find out that his "Jamie at Home" show can be seen here in Spain. It's dubbed, and that's not great, but so much better than anything the Spanish channel "Canal Cocina" shows. From what I've seen, Spanish cooking programmes are terribly directed and produced -the camera movements make you sick as they go from side to side, the chefs have no carisma and treat the public as if they were children or, worse, stupid. They're so smothering and irritating with their stupid jokes and comments! Also, the sets are terrible and uninspiring, as well as the dishes.

Anyway, I've just watched one of Jamie's programmes and, feeling inspired, decided to prepare something different for dinner today. I went online to find the recipe and what a great surprise! He's everywhere on the Internet:

• you can find him on YouTube: Jamie Oliver's YouTube Channel
• on his web page you can see his recipes, programmes, books, etc: jamieoliver.com

Get inspired, creative and enjoy!

above: J.O. and his tableware

Into Ashes

As always, I was tense and wary on my way home back from school at about 5pm in the baking heat. I never knew what would be waiting for me: a beating? House chores? Would I have to cook dinner, clean my brothers' mess or would I be able to read and study?
Dad was not at home when I got back -he used to get back for dinner at about 7pm, if he was not out with one of his mistresses.

When I was little, I used to look forward to it; He was my hero. As a fast-growing teenager, I would wet myself in fear.
Dad liked it. He was in control.

Mum was in the kitchen and, as usual, shouted at me as soon as I got in. "Get yourself changed and come help me". No chance of reading and studying, then. Oh well, never mind. I had got used to doing it at 1 or 2am with a flashlight in bed, hoping that Dad wouldn't hear me or that my sister wouldn't tell tales, otherwise Dad would burst into the bedroom letting out all his rage onto whatever part of my body.
My brothers were out playing and my sister was watching TV; I had always wondered why they picked on me and the others never helped out. Once I asked why and the reply I got wasn't very pleasant. I never asked again.

Anyway, I went to my bedroom -which I shared with my sister- to get changed and put my school stuff away.
Nothing could have prepared me for the shock and the pain that was to come: that was far far worse than any beating that Dad had ever given or was yet to give me.

I stood there, paralysed, heart beating fast, sweating cold, anger and fear building up. I was looking at the empty space in my wardrobe were I used to store my little treasures in a lovely wooden box.

above right: Anguish, Glenna Goodacre

Like any teenager, I used to keep notes and letters from friends and sweethearts, photos, a few diaries -I used to write a lot- and souvenirs such as dried flowers and sweet wrappers, among other things. In there I also used to keep my favourite books, or whatever I was reading at that time. It was the only space which was truly mine in that house.

All gone.
With tears in my eyes and my heart in my mouth, I ran into the kitchen to ask Mum what had happened. She gave me a nasty look; she didn't love me much those days.
"What would you expect? You had nasty, filthy things in there. We read and looked at it all, your dad and I, whilst you were at school. It didn't take much for us to decide to burn it. It was disgusting"

I couldn't believe my ears. I didn't want to believe my ears.
"You've burnt my things? My writings? My letters and photos and books? How could you? What gave you the right to rummage through my things and destroy them all? They were MY things, they were MINE, I don't mess about with YOUR stuff!!!!"
Mum could look so evil when she wanted to, and she did then. She scared the shit out of me, even though it was always Dad who delivered the beatings. She had a triumphant smile, she had hurt me deep, she had achieved her ultimate goal without laying a finger on me: I was totally destroyed inside.

Hurt, angered and outraged, I went to the back yard in the hope of being able to save something, I knew Mum was being serious. I found nothing.
After checking every corner at every possible place, I spotted a pile of ashes lying on the hard-soil pavement across the road. Grandma lived across the road, and Dad used to park his car in her garage.

above left: Anguish, Gary Frier

I crossed the road without looking, without thinking.
My whole world came crashing in on me. It was all there, still burning, still hot. They might as well have burned me alive, as in the horrific times of the Inquisition.

I only remember falling on my knees, crying and screaming my heart out. Then it all went dark.

I never wrote again. Until now.

Thinking of You

It's strange, but the other day I spoke about you and used the past tense. "My dad was a violent man", I said without thinking.
It could mean two things: that you are dead or that you are no longer violent.
I know which I'd prefer.

Celebreties' True Face

I woke up feeling horrible: headachy, blocked up, bloated, constipated. My skin was bone dry, there were heavy bags and dark circles under my eyes due to a very bad night's sleep (snoring husband and loud drunks in the street). I didn't dare look at myself in the mirror, let alone go out.

Yes, I feel like s***t and I was feeling sorry for myself and p***** off when a friend sent me an e-mail that read 'vendo esto me sento taaaaan guapa...'. Perfect timing.
I forgot my miseries and found some relief in looking at these celebrities photos -with all the money, glamour and time they still have their bad days and look worse for wear.

I wanted to share it with all you gals who might be feeling like me today or any other day. Chin up, be bitchy and take your pick!
above: Eva Gloria below: Britney Spears, Cameron Diaz and Paris Hilton

Beauty and the Price (or Beauty is in the Hands of the Moneyholder)

I'm 35 and I am terrified of getting wrinkly, saggy, old. That said, everybody says I look at least 6 years younger, which makes me very happy indeed.

My investments are paying off then: I've been exercising all my life and have always had a very healthy life style: never abused the sun, alcohol, drugs or cigarettes - I've had my share of fun though- I eat lots of fruit and vegetables and virtually no sugar, saturated fat and trans fats.
But this is not all. I'm also addicted to creams and moisturizers and cannot imagine being without them. If I was loaded, I'd be every cosmetic company's dream consumer.

The ritual starts in the shower: sponges that gently exfoliate and massage to help increase circulation; gentle, moisturising and dermatologically tested shower gel and face wash. I don't worry much about my hair: good but inexpensive shampoos and conditioners do the job as my hair is always shiny and soft.

Right: Decisions, decisions.
(Cartoon from CSL Cartoon Stock)

On the other hand, I have to be extremely careful with what I put on my skin as it's EXTRA sensitive, especially my face: I get itches and rashes easily, my cheeks are always red, and it's now getting drier and drier, not to mention the appearance of unwanted lines. On top of that, I like a type of cream for everything and everything has its own cream, e.g. boobs, cellulite, eyes, face (night and day), body firmer and moisturiser, lip countour, sun care, hand and foot cream, etc etc. I don't bother much about make-up though; I only wear foundation (moisturising, anti-aging, SPF30+ please) lipstick and mascara.

So, ever since I can remember I have been trying all sorts of beauty products -these being some of the cheaper ones::

• Nivea
• L'Oreal
• Dove
• Garnier
• Vitesse (Laboratorios Dermatologicos Kinesia Puig)
• Avon (my mum's favourite this one)
• O Boticario
  
• Yves Rocher (bought it for the first time last week)
  

They are okay, really -most of them anyway. But not quite what I feel I need, as my skin is never hydrated enough and lines continue to get deeper -have I mentioned the bags under my eyes yet?
So, are their promises empty or have I been ill advised as to the type of cream that would be appropriate for my skin? (I always have the impression that the shop assistants sell me the products they need to promote rather than what's good for me)
above: the hard sell
(Cartoon from CSL Cartoon Stock)

Then there are the ones that are supposed to be very good, the more expensive ones, which I have also tried:

• Avene
• Roc (I'm now using their cellulite cream, it's supposed to be good)
• Clinique (I have a gay friend who swears by this brand, and I must say the 'Dramatically Different Moisturizer' is rather good)
• Vichy
• Elizabeth Arden (I really like their 8 hour cream)
• Boots No. 7
• Lancome (never really liked it: so much perfume it makes me sneeze)
• Lancaster
• Galenic (their cellulite cream is really good)
• Clarins (quite likeable)
• Molton Brown
• Shiseido
• Eucerin (Seriously thinking of going back to this one)
• Neutrogena (best hand and foot cream ever)
  

I really don't want to make this list even longer, so let's stop here.
So, what's the verdict? Well, guilty. I'm a cosmetics whore and will carry on searching for the perfect one, if it exists.

That said, I do have a feeling that I would find what I'm looking for if I could ever afford La Mer. Hah, dream on beauty queen -only the wealthy can afford the best in order to look their best!