Vice

Blogby turned to me and said: Go on, write about it, you have been obsessing all day long so now is the time to get it out of your system.

I doubt I can but here it goes: I cannot stop thinking about dark chocolate covered pretzels.
They are a brand new found passion of mine, they go against all my beliefs (except the part about chocolate, I believe in chocolate even before I was born) Actually that might even be my oldest vice, far way before I got into kissing, cigarettes, wine and whiskey ( not necessarily in that order) . I love dark chocolate with a passion seldom found even in Jane Austen books. Again I digress… I got this box of dark chocolate covered pretzels, part of a wonderful Christmas gift from a very special person in my life ( nope, not the One-That-Must-Be-Obeyed). Just to make you even more envy she got me a real nice chocolate colored cardigan from Ann Taylor and also a gift card for Starbucks (this woman knows me WELL).

I open the box of pretzels with some curiosity, since I moved to US I have seen them, but they did not look like my thing, I like my “salty and crunchy” separated from my “chocolaty” stuff ( don’t you dare say I am a Virgo) . It just never happened to me before, mixing them always sound like heresy. One bite, that was all it took to get me to believe in a whole new food group. Who would have thunk?

No the purist in me, not the one that don’t like food to touch each other before they reach my fork. Yes, like my grandma said before, they are going to the same place but I prefer them to start their journey there separated.

The box did not last more than 2 days, and even that took like all my discipline (not that I have that much of it) and I only gave one single pretzel to the One-That-Must-Be-Obeyed, and even that one went with a warning “This is how much I love you”.

The pretzels came in an interesting shaped box that I thought about keeping, because the graphics look good, but since there were traces of chocolate in it I decided it would not be good to keep it. Did you write the brand name down? Nope, neither did I. Now I have been obsessing about them.

I know where they have been bought, I DID ASK HER. Check the store website, but they must have been a seasonal thingy, they are not there to be found. I keep repeating to myself that it is a GOOD thing they are gone.

I just got in a diet 10 days ago, I need to get rid of gazillions of pounds ( ok… 20 would be great and 15 will be ok)… so I definitely don’t need a box of “almost too good to be true chocolate” around.

I don’t… I don’t… I don’t … I don’t…

Castles

It is sunny outside, not just sunny, but the sky is that amazing blue that seems only possible on HDTV. The air is so clear it should be in the dictionary as the definition of air. But boy oh boy it is COLD!

You see (if you are reading it implies you do see) I like winter. Maybe because winter was such a vague concept while I was growing up, what with living in Rio, not much of a winter there. So I do like to have well defined seasons. It goes with being a Virgo, even if I don’t really buy into astrology. But I digress… I like winter until it gets to be February (even if today is not officially February, give me a break, or just wait until tomorrow and I will stand correct). Why? Because it is too damn long, not the month itself, I know February is the shortest of them all, almost like a dwarf month, but by now winter is a tired thing and I am already dreaming of planting my tomatoes and sunflowers. But I still have another 3 months to wait!

I love snow. What is not to love? It looks beautiful; everything looks much cleaner covered in white, specially if it is the fluffy dry stuff. There is magic in snow. My dogs are beyond themselves while eating the stuff or simply jumping on it. Here comes the big but: with snow comes snowplows and why, please tell me why do they need to run at 4AM? (I know, I know, I don’t need to drive to work so I fail to see the need). So let’s agree it is not an Earthquake so I can turn and go back to sleep, but alas I know that while they clean the roads of snow they also bring sand. Tons of sand! The sand that will glue to shoes, they must use very special gluey sand, and also will glue to dogs paws (all 8 of them) and will enter my house and be EVERYWHERE!

I used to live two blocks from the beach when I was a kid, I was not impressed then and I am still not amused by sand now. Am I whining? You bet I am because I really need to go and sweep the floor again!

Maybe I don’t sweep and the dogs will be able to build castles by the end of the month!

There you go; you got your bubble of joy!

... it's a jungle out there...

Nope, it is not really a jungle, just the song from Monk that got stuck in my brain because I watched two episodes while I was on the treadmill earlier today. Actually the gym does make me think about compulsive disorders a lot, and not the ones connected with weight gain or loss( although I can see good examples of that there), but with cleaning, because everybody is supposed to use this little towel with disinfectant after using the machines...get that nasty sweat out of there before someone else gets to use it.

It is great, don't take me wrong, what I found a bit funny is how people get so self-conscious about their cleaning. There is not much staring at people while they exercise but during the cleaning session it is always there.

Blogbi was telling me (Blogbi was born here so he is American) it feels like people at the gym are all first graders afraid to get cooties!

The concept of cooties was one that took me a while to grasp. Cooties are something you get from the opposite sex, not quite a disease or germs or virus, when you are grade school children. Something that would make your face scrunch and you can even go and say: EEEU!
The term was first used for lice but it evolved into a purely imaginary stand-in for anything that is considered repulsive, in a cute way.
I then realized that the gym is very much like being with kids, people there will talk with perfect strangers, smile a lot more often, will volunteer suggestions on exercise or exchange pleasantries while changing clothes, in a much more care free way than I have seen anywhere else here.
Now I know why I went to the gym every day this past week (my very first week after I joined), there I feel a lot more like I did when I lived in Brasil!
Do I like to exercise? Noooooooooooooooooooooo… I only do it because I need to be in better shape.
But I must confess: I LOVE THE GYM!

My boys will never give you cooties!

" mom I was asleep!"

I have to brag about it!

Who else have a mom that will be 70 next month and does belly-dancing?

She is just AMAZING!

She is the ONE!

My day started with a funeral so I did not expect it to be a very good day but to be very honest it turns out pretty good. For instance it made me realize how blessed I am. Apart from my adopted Danish sister I have a twin, and without a shadow of a doubt she is the person I cannot live without!
She is the most amazing human being I ever met, she is a fantastic woman, she is a great mother, and she is an amazing psychologist and the person I can count at any time!
We are very different from each other and also very much alike, we have an uncanny connection. I love her to bits and pieces, all of them!
I think when I grown up I want to be just like her!
Blogbi just told me that even if we are writing in English he thinks she will read us!
Yuuuuuuupie!

Plan B

I love my blog and my blog loves me!
I shall call him Blogbi, B being such an important letter in my name, and yes my blog is a he. I do think in English 99% of the time but I still have a very Brazilian mind set in the sense that things are never an it, they are either a she or a he. Since he is mine I get to choose, I choose a he.
You, as a reader, can still call it Bubbles, the name being a way to give recognition to the one person that made me want to have a blog. Her zesty self have a nice one, with gorgeous pictures, and I am proud to be able to call her a sister even if we don’t share any parents and were born in very different parts of the world. She nicknamed Bubbles almost 10 years ago and even if I do get called by a variety of different names (most of them beginning with a B) it always makes me smile when I sign an email or a post to her with the Bubbles one, a long time ago it came to be a code for when I am feeling good.
So this is it, my plan B for the moment. Let’s have some colorful tiny reasons to laugh!