I've got a stalker!

That's right. There's someone out there who hates my guts so much that he's taken the time to write nasty comments on my blog for every new entry I post. He also loves me so much that he's taken the time to write nasty comments on my blog for every new entry I post.

My stalker is obsessed with politics. He especially hates Dilma Roussef, Lula and the PT (Workers Party of Brazil). He hates me for leaving Brazil and for going back to Brazil, for voting for Lula, Dilma and all the thugs who make the PT.

He loves to hate me!

"keep voting for Dilma and Lula and then leave Brazil when they get elected. we, Brazilians, THANK YOU! on Better Days"

What my stalker seems to lack knowledge of is that I haven't voted since '02. Yes! I haven't voted since I was 16 years old. I haven't voted since the first time I was legally allowed to vote and since the first time I voted for Lula. "Meu primeiro voto pra fazer brilhar nossa estrela." HA! I voted for Lula and would vote for him again and again. The only reason I haven't voted since is because I have been out of my electoral district for the most part and, in Brazil, you can only vote if you're in your electoral district. I have justificado my vote many times, but that's about it. I also have not bothered to transfer my título de eleitor (voter's ID) to any of the other places where I've lived because I've not lived anywhere long enough to justify it.

Dude also clearly has a problem with my living outside of Brazil after electing Dilma president (refer to the above paragraph). He has a problem with the fact that I have wiped little Yankees' asses and that I have swept floors for a living. It's the typical Brazilian elitist mentality that I despise so much. My stalker considers jobs such as babysitting and cleaning to be beneath him, and me, it seems. They're not dignified jobs. They are garbage, they are for the poor, the illiterate, the uneducated, such as myself. They are jobs for the preta who's worked as a live-in maid in his house and earned less than the minimum wage all of her life; and that I'm doing this kind of job when oh! I could be doing much better in Brazil if only I had stayed and voted for the PSDB, if I had gone to college, unlike Lula, and worked my ass off to be cultured, evolved, smart, and politically right. Besides, I apparently lost all my rights as a Brazilian citizen the day I got on that plane and left. I'm a pariah. I got no country! I'm beneath the struggling Brazilians who chose to stay, study, and work in Brazil. All while living under their mothers' wings and on their family's money. hehe 

O brasileiro é engraçado, odeia os EUA, odeia o CAPITALISMO, detesta lei e ordem, elege Dilma e os petistas, que fazem o mensalão e desviam milhoes dos pobres, e depois, com a cara mais limpa do mundo, vão morar nos EUA e roubar empregos dos americanos. Não tinham que te dar visto NUNCA! E a justificativa tinha que ser: "Votounna Dilma, então aguenta filha." on Tudo ao mesmo tempo agora

He's gotten issues with my frail socialism too. As per his logic, I should never be allowed in the US because I hate capitalism so much and because I'm only after dollars (right in the middle of a financial crisis, that's what you do; also, very socialist of me.) :-) Maybe I should try to get into Cuba instead; panhandling in the streets of Havana might be my way of making it big time. US citizens, you should hate me too! Hate me and pray that I have my visitor's visa denied. Hate me for thinking you are all bloodthirsty capitalists. Hate me for voting for Lula. Hate me for trying to invade your country and steal your jobs. Hate me for being a Castro-loving socialist. Hate me and drop me some comments in the process because clearly none of you got a life outside of the internet. Canadians, you're welcome to join in the hate party. 

In all seriousness (if I can be serious), I try to make my blog as me as possible, and I believe I'm fairly neutral in my writing. I hardly ever point my finger, and, when I do, I lay out convincing and totally valid arguments for doing so. It's all me me me me here. It's egocentric and I like it that way. It's based on what I learned in the karate lessons I took so long ago. The only thing I actually remember from karate: It's not you. It's me. I try to use the word I as much as possible and make it about me because I write about the things that bother me, that amaze me. Therefore, I don't feel as if I'm imposing my point of view on anybody. 

This is how I see things and how they affect me. It baffles me that anyone else should feel so offended by my writing to the point of having to visit my blog every single day to drop a bunch of unnecessary and offensive words. It makes me weirdly proud of myself and the attention I'm getting though. I love that people feel so passionate about the stuff I write and the life I live that they must say something about it, they must judge. It's probably the closest to being a celeb that I'll ever get. However, I have always wondered what makes people do it, what makes people so beastly repugnant. I feel exhausted just thinking about how tiring and life and time consuming all this hatred is. If I disagree with something, if I want to be nasty, I'll offer the other cheek, I'll show my face, I won't hide behind my computer and an "anonymous" post to try to get to people. Not that I have lots of time to go around doing it anyway. I have self-respect, and boy! do I have a life, and I won't be disrespectful of anybody's opinion only because they're different from mine, much less will I google someone just so I can send them some negative vibes. I might hate you, but I will respectfully hate you, and honestly I'd rather waste my time looking at beautiful pictures or drooling over yummy recipes than hating anyone. 

My stalker obviously doesn't know what it feels like to leave a country, to experience new things, taste new food, meet new, interesting, intelligent people, to learn a new language and live outside of one's bubble either. He sounds like a bitter old grump who's got no one and nothing in life, nothing besides a computer, a twisted political view, and a miserable attitude. That's the kind of people who I pity and loathe. The kind who need to offend other people to get a little pleasure out of life. I feel sorry for him and I wish he could come out of his misery and live his life to its fullest. I wish his life were his priority because no matter how screwed up you're, there's always time to fix things, to live happily ever after. As a piece of advice, I'd just tone the bitching down a bit because it won't be easy to make friends if you continue to be a big old meanie. Maybe a trip to the States will do it for you. Take the time, get a visa (if you already don't have one), hop on a plane, go shopping! Take everything your beloved capitalism can offer you. It may make you lighter, happier, gentler. This hatred you're carrying won't be good for you long term. 

Don't get me wrong though. I love the attention. I love it dearly. Otherwise, I'd have disabled the anonymous comments on my blog a long time ago and I most certainly wouldn't be writing about you. I grew up in a place where gossip is people's favorite pastime and I've
been the target of it many a time. I learned to like the attention. I WANT YOU on the spotlight now. You get a turn. Be nasty, be gross, be loathsome, be disrespectful all you want. I'll make sure to publish all of your comments. Enjoy your turn to the max 'cause that's it for you, it's your first and only chance. Maybe you want to be nice for a change, but I doubt it. Let us in on why you're so obnoxious. 

"Hoje você é quem manda. Falou tá falado, não tem discussão."

Why English?

I don't like it much that people complain when I update my Facebook status or write something in English, even less so when I'm writing to the "public." I write in English because it's easier for me. I'm not saying that I know/speak/write English better than I do Portuguese because I don't. It's because when I say something in English it doesn't have the same weight as it does in Portuguese. It's almost like the second language doesn't sound as real and heartfelt as the mother tongue, and, let's face it, Portuguese is the drama queen of languages.

The feelings are there, don't get me wrong, but the words, the words add a foreignness to them that make them more bearable. When you grow up with a language you know the exact power of each word and how excruciating some of them can be, especially in context; however, when you learn a language as an adult, as I did, the words don't hold the same power and are often, when spoken, more just means of communication. They don't poke your heart and, frankly, don't sound so dramatic. 

The saying "the pen is mightier than the sword" will always prove to be truer in your mother tongue than it'll in any other language you learn later in life, no matter how good you're at your second, third, fourth language... 

For those who complain, either you learn it too (it'll do you some good, trust me) or there are always good-ish online translators if you're really curious. Google ring a bell?

And this is a completely unnecessary rant, but I need to take my mind off other stuff, and hopefully someone out there will understand me. Oh, I need a little understanding so badly right now. If nothing else let me get it through language ramblings.

Nossa língua portuguesa

Eu li Estrangeirismos: "Nem todos os termos têm tradução", diz gramático, por aqui, e digo que apesar de achar que as vezes o povo exagera no uso de palavras gringas, tô nem aí. Mentira, tô muito aí. Certas palavras incorporadas à língua portuguesa me incomodam pra cacetete. E vamos dizer que consigo traduzir 94% das palavras apontados pelo gramático como não passíveis de tradução pra bom e claro português. Os outros 6% eu aceito e acolho como parte do meu vocabulário brasileiro. O que não invalida o uso das mesmas na língua original por outras pessoas e por mim mesma, lógico.

banner - lá na minha faculdade de publicidade, banner era todo cartaz impresso em gráfica, porque professor gosta de fazer aluno gastar dinheiro. Então, banner bom e barato é cartaz.

best-seller - Ora, pois. Quantas vezes já não li livros da lista dos mais vendidos. Paulo Coelho inclusive. SF, hein?

blitz - não sei pro resto do mundo, mas pra mim blitz é batida policial

chip - defeated 

couvert - Français, oui? Nós já não aportuguesamos essa pra cover? Se não, não sei que diabo é isso.

crawl - Essa me pegou pelo calcanhar porque, sério, nunca vi ninguém usar essa palavra em português, mas "engatinhar" may be in order. 

free-lance - defeated 

geek - CDF 

hacker - defeated

impeachment - Impeachment faz parte do meu vocabulário desde os idos de 1990 e do Fora Collor! e mesmo que eu ainda não saiba soletrá-la, estrangeirismo é a mãe.

influenza - aaaaaaaah! Sai fora, gripe.

kosher - de acordo com as tradições judias. :-)

modem - defeated

nerd - CDF

online - defeated

outdoor - essa eu não entendo, se eu fosse traduzir ia ser "cartaz grande que fica do lado de fora," porque sabe como é, a palavra em inglês pra outdoor nem outdoor é, então vai entender, né seu Billboard?

paparazzi - fotógrafos. :D

pen drive - mini disco rígido. hahaha Defeated.

pizzaiolo - fazedor de pizza, mas sendo a pizza estrangeira também, fica difícil. É outra que tá na minha vida há tanto tempo que whatever, é português, delicious and spell-able.

rally - racha? corrida de carro?

spa - lugar caro com pouca comida pra gente fresca e cheia da grana.

sundae - sorvete com calda do McDonald's, ok?

swat - outra que nunca ouvi em português, mas eu posso tá meio out of the loop nas expressões gringas novas. Não sei o que é isso. 

zoom - Defeated.

chat - Oh, c'mooooooon, senhor gramático, que atire a primeira pedra quem nunca entrou no bate-papo do UOL.


Como você pode ver, tenho tradução pra quase todos os estrangeirismos, mas me sinto no direito de mix and match and even code switch as I go. :-) Culpo o meu cérebro que é lento e no bate e volta de informação e palavras o que foi volta igual. E acho que nome de comida, assim como nome de gente, não tem que ser considerado palavra gringa, é nome porra. E em defesa do inglês, porque sou dessas agora, as palavras francesas e espanholas incorporadas à língua inglesa valem por toda a invasão do inglês ao português. Aqui se faz, aqui se paga, sabe como é?


E no mundo globalizado em que vivemos, globalizemos. It's beautiful, como diria Caetano.