domingo, 30 de setembro de 2012

Remenicing in Song

He may like de women det speak de French but i wasn't understanding much my Québecois.
And he asked me about Canada so here's me reminicing.

À la mode dzu Québec! Enoin
Some things à la mode de Québec!

Doesn't sound much like the Parisian French Eih! :p

Now this one sounds more like it's Cousin the France French Accent
more canadian Music

This song makes me think of Canada. It always has and it always will.
This song is like the smell of the air just before it starts snowing.

And some say I forgot my Canadian rib. hah!

You can't forget what you are, just ignore it.

If he discovers this blog I'm screwed!

Okay so it has come to my attention that if Prince Cookie ever discoveres this blog I might as well change my name and move to a differente city. That is unless he somehow found the fact that I am talking about him somehow I don't know like a compliement, which it isn't. I write what I feel but I do embelish a bit. What can I say I have the soul of a writer (maybe not a very good one but still). 
This blog is about me. About my perception of some events in my life. The cookie tales are basically part of what goes on in my head as I have stuggled with this crush since it took larger perportions. 
To normal people the perportion is acctually very small.
But it's normal to be scared, especially if you are part 'scardy cat'.

For now I will admit this much I don't want to mess this up. I don't want to jinks the first real thing I have felt for someone. It's just a crush, but I don't think I've ever blushed this much. To the exception of last week when I stepped on the choir director's foot, and only realized it 20 seconds later. It wasn't on purpose but I did turn beet red. Clearly to him it was nothing but to me it was as if I had accidentally stepped on the President's foot.

quinta-feira, 27 de setembro de 2012

'Cause you made me smile

(Babs this is the extended version of my text message.)

It’s hard to explain what we don’t know but I guess I can admit to having taken a step forward.

Yesterday after choir I waited as he asked the choir director something and then nervously I sucked it up and asked him if he wanted to practice his English and French with me. Well first I asked if I could talk to him. He probably thought ‘I didn’t kill her cat so what could this be about’. And then I asked him if he wanted to kind of a language exchange. I said I could try going through my own faculty but I had thought of asking him first. He said he wasn’t really good in English to which I replied I planned to teach so it was okay. He asked me what my course was and then accepted, as my friend played a song from pride and prejudice. We planned what days worked and I was surprised to learn that we would start this very week, as in today.
I went smiling and bouncing to the metro, where I met the rest of my friends who naturally were happy for me.

When I went home I wrote on facebook ‘My spirit sang all day’ and then I barely slept with happiness and remorse.

Today I was freaking out as I walked from class to meet him, I almost ran away, but didn’t.
I saw him sitting in front of the rectory on the steps as I came out of my faculty. He kinda has a shape I recognize and he was looking at my faculty. The first bit was awkward. I couldn’t get myself to look at him in the face. And yes he is kind of balding but after a bit it didn’t matter. He asked me about Canada. Not really what I love but I answered and went on tangents, All of this in English. Sometimes he would have a hard time trying to express something and I would help him. There was no awkward silence. Then Pessanha showed up and asked if she was interrupting of course we both said she wasn’t. She and I talked for a bit as he tried to understand.

He laughed at all of my jokes, and one moment I even caught him staring at me with a smile.
When he went to the washroom Pessanha (she’s a girl) told me that he seemed to like me. That he was laughing with me and not at me. She said she wasn’t trying to make me feel good. Still it did boost my ego a little. She stayed with us for quit a bit and then went to class by then the two hours were up and we had to go our separate ways but we went talking. I learnt a lot about him. And one thing that surprised me was that at one point we both considered the religious life (I think he thought I was kidding. I wasn’t but people never thought I would actually go through with it. For now I don’t think it’s my calling but I will keep my ears open to whatever calling God asks of me). We both went to the metro and to my sadness I got out at In Between Fields. It felt like when you’ve been sitting on a cushion and then someone takes it away. But before leaving I turned around and asked if we were still on for Monday, to which he replied we were.

Oh and he likes women who speak French (If I can count as a woman then yay!)

In some ways we are a like and in others we differ. Maybe not completely but we do differ. I may like to dream but I know what it is to have your feet on the ground.

Oh at one point I mentioned the cookie recipe and he said he’d be making it next month or in a few years.

So I said we would have to know each other until then because I really want to know how they turn out. And at the end he said he understood about 60 to 70 percent of what I and Pessanha said. I said ‘well then you know my secrets’. He replied ‘oh no, no’.

Other things:

His hands are really nice. I hadn’t noticed. I got him to give me a high-five. His palm was sweaty. He’s got a strong hand.

I looked at his eyes for the very first time and realized how beautiful they are like honey but only darker. Or like a chocolate or coffee caramel. They are brown but a really nice brown.

It’s getting worse. And it will probably get much worse, this crush.

For now I guess I will take it one day at a time and just enjoy it for what it is. Nothing lasts but that’s why I’ll just be happy for today.

terça-feira, 25 de setembro de 2012

Time/ a boring story

Okay so I haven't gotten over him. Nope a whole summer and it's only getting worse and the worse part is I'm getting jealous.  And to top that off I'm acctually going crazy.

You see I now see him everywhere and hear his laughter in places where I know he would never be.
So if this isn't going crazy I don't know what is (which would be a good thing , maybe?)

And yesterday these were the thoughts that went through my head :

I've got the following options: own up to it, suck it up and get over it, or do something about it. The problem is I'm inclined to go the radical approach.

The problem is I'm still considering the radical approach .

p.s. I'm starting to pay attention to the colour of his shirts. Yesterday it was shamrock Green, or what I call Irish Green and no it wasn't faded.

I tried talking to him but he was on his cellphone. So I am cursing cell phones to hell . And so I said nothing.
Yes and I followed him out but all it got me was to hear his sweet laughter (see i'm going crazy) at something I possibly said but I really don't know how that was funny.

Okay I'll explain. I followed him but then as we got to the door Ernest open the door for him and the ladies me and an Alto. Ernest said 'i'll open the door for you unlike now-a-days ' and I went through as well as Isabel (i think it's her name) and then said 'that's true, that's very true. people don't do that anymore and it's very sad.' He laughed (I though ah his laugh, which I probably at one point might have though was annoying or maybe not). And then I walked kinda close beside Ernest and him and then when it came time to cross he went to the bus ( I was sad, and remembered that when I bought my pass this month it meant I couldn't follow him to the bus. One day if I don't get over him I will, but I'll have to plan it well. even if I have to use my zapping). He said goodbye to Ernest, ernest said goodbye ( I thought about saying goodbye but said nothing) and me and Ernest turned right and Ernest talked a bit until we got to the cross walk. I went alone into the metro and sat sulking a bit on a bench as I saw a train come and go.
Then Mario saw me and said hi. I said hi back (had to be polite) got on the same train, waved goodbye and got out at the next stop. Sat on my sulking bench in 'In between Fields' sulking remembering the last time I had sat on that bench crying because I was really tiered that day and because I had run so fast I had missed him and saw him talking to Ernest on the train. That bench.

Life is all about timing. I have had really bad timing so maybe I have to stop trying.

segunda-feira, 24 de setembro de 2012



and yes this Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

is a good thing.

It maybe be stupid



he put a like on my new profile

picture on facebook.

Okay now I can move on.

and move forward .



sábado, 22 de setembro de 2012

Feeling Stupid/ Random

'Tiered of feeling stupid? Well join the club '' she said to the little brown pug dog that followed her as she walked faster and faster across the field.

''You know what?'' she asked the dog. The dog clearly didn't answer. '' I think he's deleted me from his facebook. I think I'm here going crazy and he's never given a second thought to me.
See that's why I feel stupid.''

'' Yesterday I looked at him from the side and his shirt was one of the colours of the sunset outside. I took a second look at the shirt and it wasn't a nice shirt at all. It looked like it had been washed too many times fading the design printed on. And the seams! I think I could see the seams. I can't see all that well but I think he was wearing his shirt inside out. Not kool but on the other side there is that saying that says that if you put on a shirt inside out without noticing you will get a gift.

I also noticed his hand was in a form I had seen all my life in Church on a statue of Saint John the Baptist.

Today as I came to school I thought I saw him. And I feel like I'm seeing him everywhere.

Oh what's the point you're just a dog. What do you know? I bet you don't even care.'' she said as she finally sat down on a part bench.

The little dog barked, lifted his head and sat.

''I guess you do wanna listen.'' she said stressing the 'do'.

''Fine I guess I can keep talking to you. Well little dog I can't seem to concentrate in Choir. And we all know why. If I keep this up my hands will be all marked from my pressing my nails into my palms.
But I did something that helped a bit. Aurora told me that we are whom we believe we are. And for half and hour I remembered I was an Adult and I was able to concentrate. Not that I didn't think at least 3 times of quitting the choir.

Do you think I should e-mail him asking if he wants to practice french and english with me? Or should I try talking to him.

See little dog part of me wants to try and part of me wants to run in the opossite direction forgetting this ever happened.

Oh little dog what to do. I even prayed to know what to do and I come back with no answers. I know there must be this bigger plan that I just don't see right now.

Oh well little dog thanks for listening.''

She smiled at the little dog.

She stayed on the park bench thinking long before the little dog had left.

She wasn't unhappy just tiered of being confused.

The little dog walked with her home everyday for the next two months and he listened attentively when she talked to him.

(The Cookie Princess- Tales of a princess in my head)

New but not recent redundant prose

When you have times when your mind goes everywhere and nowhere the same kind of prose always comes up.
And from one of those moments comes this crappy prose

Endless denying
half of me
still wanting

Divided in two
or maybe three
feels like
i've got too much
to think

Trying to avoid the dreams
and for a while
it helps
Then back to sero
and back to confused
I go

Nothing makes sense
some say it will
I don't believe them
yet still I hope

Trying to put the past
in it's place
yet it keeps jumbling my thoughts
in the present
Past turning into present
doesn't let the futur
and present stand

Hipocracies and mediocracies
no longer making sense

and strength in between
giving this confusion
a endless sheen

Hiding behind confusion
when the answers
are already there
they aren't the answers
given by my heart

Stereos, tv's , media, advertizing
and people's voices
Trying to find the truth
in silence
yet subjected
to it's defening sound.

The voices inside
 ecco the ones outside
Which ones to hear
and which ones not

Stuck in a limbo
dreams and reality.
if the dreams are mine
or someone else's.

Dreams that look like reality
and reality that closely resembles a dream
Decisions decisions the more I think
about it
the less I take
need to think once and quickly jump
or end up staying in the same place

quarta-feira, 19 de setembro de 2012

Who am I?

A friend recently told me that to know what you want you have to know who you are.

She didn't know that it's been a question that I have been trying to answer for a very long time.
As a person of mixed heritage it's always been a question that I have tried to answer.
And the most enlightened answer that I have found is that we are who we want to be.

I am portugues not because I have a document that says so but because I choose to be portugues.
People who don't chose what they are take it for granted. I have never once taken the fact that I am portugues for granted.
When I was small my mother would get me to eat my açorda or bacalhão by claiming that she would take away my portugues nationality. I don't know if she could do that but what I do know is that I ate my meals without complaining.
(And I respect the part of me that is canadian, and I recognize the part that is italian.)

I am made up of a bunch of little parts just like everyone else.
I am made up of a bunch of different parts but I am not defined by the individual parts.

It's not so much about knowing what you want but allowing yourself to want it or feeling that it is okay to want it.
I can want chocolate but think that it's wrong to want it since I have a cavity or I'm fasting.

Just because you know who you are doesn't mean you know what you want.
and knowing what you want doesn't mean that you know yourself.

And just because we know who we are does not mean others know as well.
People hide parts of themselves or just shut up when no one is listening.

Sometimes when people are listening I say stupid things, and sometimes when I have something smart to say no one is listening so I say nothing and smile.
Just because we know ourselves does not mean others give us space to be ourselves.
As humans we are forced to adapt.
We adapt our selves sometimes until we explode.

Perhaps it's not about who we are, who I am, but who we are allowed to be.

I am me.

I know who I am and I know that I am changing everyday.

terça-feira, 18 de setembro de 2012

Cookie tales continued

''As soon as you think that something has ended it comes back again to haunt you.
It can be a good thing or a bad thing.

If it's a bad thing such as someone who is obssed with you calling you during summer vacation precisely during the only week that you are vacationing at the beach and then receiving a slip to pick up a parcel.
(And P.S. the slip indicates there is an amount you have to pay )

As a good thing it can be something such as seeing someone on whom you have a crush and not really expecting to see them and your heart leaping in your chest as it violently races. Unknowingly your thoughts come out and you wisper (in English) I wish I could die this very moment. And it kinda feels that way the way your heart is racing.
And while this goes on you stab your, slightly longer than usual, nails into the palsm of your hands as you realize how there is no one to run to. The ones who help you calm down are nowhere to be found so you stab even harder into palms but then he comes up tp say hi to you and two other people standing next to you.'Crap' you think 'I still have a crush on him'.
You force yourself to look up and say hi with a smile (You atill want to be friendly) but you barely look up . You are trying to calm your pounding heart. 'I think he noticed how my knuckles are turning white' you think.
Later you wonder is it fear?
or is it nerves?

To make things worse you dream about talking to him as the choir stops in Tuscany for a performance. And you finally confront him.
He comes out telling you he knows and no he doesn't want it. You ask him what does he mean you two not be friends and he says not at all you can be friends. You tell him you just want to get to know him. So you try to sit down and talk but seem to have nothing to say to each other. Yet as you wake up you both start talking.
All of this after following him through a bunch of city streets and he finally stopping. (And yes it was the choir I saw other tenors and bases and sopranos and alto's though not as clearly)
But you wake up ashamed and annoyed at yourself.
Why couldn't this be over instead of getting worse?

I just have to say I hug so many girls (who are my friends) that he probably (if he even thinks in my respect) thinks I'm a lesbian who hasn't come out of the closet. Just thinking. (And yes this is probably the crazy voice talking but it's still a voice.)''

Diary Exerpt from Princess inside my head, the tale of a cookie princess