Portuguese critical comments

If you know me, you know that I do not like most comments of Portuguese people. I'm not racist, I just don't agree with their mentality.
Click on the title/link above. Read the post related to understand the portuguese comment that I'm posting here.

Ora aqui vai um julgamento à Fafe (ou à fafense), já que falaram nele. Já a minha avó dizia "limpa à tua porta antes de criticares os outros." E ora cá vou eu limpar a m**** da frente da sua porta, sr. Funes (SENHOR ANTÓNIO CARDOSO da CONCEIÇÃO, se é que este é o seu nome verdadeiro).

1º Deveria saber transcrever o que leu. Entre um número e a unidade de medida digita-se sempre um espaço. A unidade de medida (neste caso o quilograma) é SEMPRE em letras minúsculas. Pode sempre consultar um livro sobre as normas internacionais de escrita, que o que lhe estou aqui a ensinar hoje não é nenhuma novidade para alguém que tenha no mínimo a quarta classe.

2º Caso também não saiba, escreve-se Ministério da Educação com letras maiúsculas e... Ministério leva 3 iis.

Pelo seu palavreado, que muitos comentadores ficaram hilariados com o seu discurso, o uso de palavras como tripas revoltas, rebentar os miolos e estrumeira, leva-me a crer que habita no Porto (mas isso não é novidade nenhuma), que deve pertencer ao FCP e que também deve ser um agricultor. Ora como não tenho conhecimento de nenhum latifúndio na cidade do porto, creio que deve cultivar uma pequena horta.

Caro senhor Funes, está na hora de ter mais sorte na vida, porque não se junta ao Grupo da Porto Editora para trabalhar em equipa com eles, e mostrar que sabe fazer melhor do que os matemáticos.

Subscrevo-me como matemática e revisora da revista Polymer Engineering and Science, e mais não lhe digo. Faça o juízo que quiser sobre este comentário, mas lembre-se "temos de varrer a frente da nossa porta, antes de falar dos outros".
Para terminar, como digo sempre, o Português só sabe criticar pela negativa, NUNCA tenta construir nada.

And that's all for today.

What People Should Not Say

This last month I’ve eared some unfortunate words. Honestly, I wonder if people have the common sense developed. Here are some words of what I can remember:

(twice from colleagues)

- Was it an accident?!

- Do you think it was an accident with 32 years old? I never had an accident before so why it could be an accident now?!

(from my boss)

- huh, I do not know if I must give you the congratulations.

- You can give them, I don’t mind.

(from a doctor)

- Yes… he can come in, he must be the father right?

I thought: no, no, it’s my neighbor.

(from a colleague)

- And how are you going?

- Fine, but worried with some incontinence when I sneeze, cough, vomit. I must carry clean pants in my purse.

- Oh, so cute.

- I do not see what is cute in this scenario.

- Oh, so it is something serious.

- Not at all, the doctor said this is usual.

(from a colleague)

- You are becoming so fat, so round…

- Thank you. By the way, I’m pregnant.

Desperate Husband

Today is a very bad day. I woke up with an enormous headache, took already two naps and I’m not feeling better than this morning. I’m trying to entertain myself, to forget the headache. To write a post is always an entertainment.

Last Saturday I went to a wedding celebration. But… before the celebration I should found some adequate clothes. I thought that perhaps my mum could help. Her size is usually the 46EU, so I should fit in. I’ve tried a long skirt but the button was almost 10 cm apart from the place where it should be buttoned. Another long skirt (elastic one) was great but my desperate husband was saying “what a shame!”.

Well, after one hour trying clothes, I’ve taken (short) black pants, but because they will be unbuttoned for obvious reasons, they seemed long pants. Also a large brown tunic was chosen. Well… large for my mother.

I passed all the celebration on the Saturday morning pushing up the pants. Everybody was looking at me, I wonder if they were looking to the clothes or to my belly. Anyway, it was the first time I felt bad in a ceremony. What a disgrace.

I'm an Editorial Manager

Many of you know who I am and what is my job. In these last 4 years I have not received any promotion neither a salary raise. To change the scenario I've decided to create my own journal. The first edition was released today... I have distributed the first free edition about 10 minutes ago. Just take a look and have fun!

If you received any specimen like this one under your door, what would be your reaction?

Brutish Manners

Yesterday, I went to an ATM to update my bank account information. I was the second in line, the girl in front of me took her card and forced the card in the slot. She has performed the bank operation but at the end the machine did not returned the card. She looks to me and said: “The machine has eaten my card. It always happens this to me”. Yeah, I do not want to know how it would be one day, when she will force her baby to eat.

Tedious Hobby

Another weekend… another boring task. I always do a special boring task each Sunday morning. You are wondering what I do, instead of being in bed, delighting a beautiful and peaceful morning thinking about on having some fun after someone’s wake-up.

Indeed, it’s a real psychological torture those mornings. I never liked to stand to much time ironing. Some time ago, I only had a pair of bed sheets, two pants, a pajama and a few shirts for ironing. Today, I really need to have patience for ironing.

Here I am looking to the laundry basket… a towel… a gray shirt… a pants… a gray shirt… a blue shirt… a gray shirt, another grey shirt… a bed sheet, two bed sheets…

Yes… I’ve almost done, finally… my pajama, my pants, my towel… another grey shirt and another and another… all grays. I observe the laundry basket becoming empty, but there is always a f*cking gray shirt there. What a desperately tedious task! No wonder my mother always said “if you like it, buy two but in different colors.” Thanks’ mum, I’ll never forget that.

Who's The Alien?

A few days ago, I was coming home after a tired working day when I crossed by an old colleague on the stairs. We met on the master degree classes in October 2002. I’ve finished my degree in June 2004 (I was the first one), the rest of the people should finish their thesis until September 2005.

As I said, I met again an old colleague, and he was a kind of happy or euphoric.

He: Hi, how are you?!

Me: Hi!!! What a surprise… What are you doing here?!

He: I came to talk with the professors. This life is crazy… full of work. I’ve finished a class a few moments ago, and came quickly to have a conversation... – bla bla bla, the guy could not stop talking – and now, at the end, Prof. M wants to be my advisor.

Me: That’s great, perhaps is because you have a nice work. But… are you in a new project?!

He: oh no, no… I’m just finishing my master thesis. And you, how are you going?!

Me: Also full of work, but finishing my PhD thesis.

He: Nice to see you, bye.

Me: Bye.

I feel that one of us must be an alien.

Sweet Love

Every woman likes to have breakfast in bed. The romantic and perfect scene is to see our love coming from the kitchen with a tray by the morning. I had a beautiful wake up yesterday… I’ve sit up on the bed to hold the tray.

me: Oh two cups… are you going to take your breakfast on the bed too?!

he: Yes, my dear. And I do not have any rose, otherwise I’d give you one.

me: And is all these bread (round balls of bread) with cheese for you?!

he: These two are for you, the other one with melted cheese is for me. I didn’t put yours in the microwave, because I know you do not like melted cheese.

I took the plate with the bread and I’ve knocked the bread:

me: And do you think I like to eat boulders?! This bread is 5 days old.

he: In fact, this could kill someone.

Effort 0%

I wonder why people are so sloppy.

This morning, at 7 a.m., I had no hot water (no natural gas in the tubes) to take a bath. I’ve looked to the gas bill and realized that I only could call after 8 a.m. to advertise the gas company. I’ve waked up at 9:30 and I still had any gas pressure. I’ve called to the emergency number and surprise, surprise… nobody had called by that time. The technicians have phoned me one hour later, saying that all the building had no natural gas, but at the moment they had fixed the problem.

Does this means that nobody in this building takes baths with hot water, or that nobody heats the milk for the breakfast?! Or does this means that nobody cares about, thinking that someone will call to the company later?!

Oh no… the Chinese is back!

In these last 2 years I had a Chinese colleague in the office. Unfortunately, I do not have the best opinion about her. She came here for a pos-doc, but she didn’t know the C language and how to create a .doc file. My name became so common on requesting help that I can not support to look at her. (And she is just in front of me).

Last July she went to China for holidays. Here at the office everybody was glad, at least we will pass 2 months without the bad smelling. Fortunately she has needed to stay 2 months more there. And we were happy… and thinking that perhaps she could not return anymore.

I’ve helped so much that woman that someday she has decided to return to me all the favors. She has introduced to me a Japanese guy (pos-doc), saying that he was single, a nice man and had only 31 years old. The same guy, after 5 minutes of acquaintance, makes me the proposal to go to Lisbon to a Japanese party on the next weekend.

Point 1: What the fuck would I do between Japanese people?!

Point 2: I do not have extra money!

Point 3: Where the fuck would I sleep?!

Of course, I have rejected the proposal with a huge smile. I’ve entered in the office and passed hours arguing with her. I even told her “If you think he is a nice guy, go to bed with him!” She only asked excuses saying “You are always so nice with me; I was trying to help you on finding a husband.” Great… that was the biggest certificate of inability that I have received on all my life.

Another day, she said that was bitten by a bug. She thought on going to the doctor, so he could give her some medicine to kill the bugs. Well… they were jumpy bugs on the bed. Jumpy bugs?! I’ve made a search on google for flea. I’ve found some images and showed to her. She said very happy “that’s it, they are the same. How can I kill them?” My answer was short “clean the house, wash the laundry and take a bath.”

Yes, yes, yes… I’ve told her a lot of times to take a bath. She smells so badly. Once she has asked where the bad smell was coming. I didn’t know what to say and with some nerves I told “I don’t know, take a bath. Perhaps it’s your feet, perhaps it’s your hair or perhaps it’s between your legs!” She was shocked and asked me “Are you telling me that I have a sex problem?!” I’ve laugh and laugh, I could not say anything.

And today she is back. What the fuck!

A Far West Story

Today I’ll tell another story… a story full of stupidity (or should I say macho stupidity?!)

The story began in November 2005. I was in USA, when one day I’ve called mum. I’ve denoted a strange voice and I’ve insisted on knew what’s going on. Mum told me “A bastard has stolen the plot of land, sliced by the road.” Just to explain, we have one hectare of land. In August 2005 we let a road passing along it to benefit and raise the value of it. In fact, in a corner, the road has sliced the field. About 100m^2 were separated from the big amount of land. Well, it is nothing, but if someday I decide to divide the hectare into lots, that 100m^2 of land can give a small parking car. In fact, next to the slice of land is passing by a brook. The neighbor in the other side of the brook has decided to make 2 bridges connecting his two small farms with the road. Of course, he has passed over the sliced field, knocking down the trees remained there for decades.

I’ve asked to mum why she didn’t stop the guy but she has replied to me that the guy said in the presence of the police officers “Move away or I’ll pass the digger over you.”

I was so far away, and so pissed off. I really doubt that the guy would make any bridge if my father or I was there. The bastard has stolen land from us, threaten my mother and… continuing with the story…

I told to mum to talk with a lawyer and to prosecute the bastard for a) robbery; b) property invasion; c) property damages; d) threat to her physical integrity. She is stubborn, but this time she has made everything as I was telling her. My father was pissed off too. He does not tolerate such disrespect to his wife. My father is crazy enough to do something foolish, so it was not easy to calm him down.

August 2006 I’ve decided which flat to buy. One day, I was so tired that I went to bed in the afternoon. It was 17.30 when I've received a phone call from mum, completely desperate saying “I need your help, come here quickly. The bastard has attempted to kill your father.” Ok, then I was really, really pissed off. You do not want to know what I was intending to do in the next 10 minutes after the phone call. I went there. At my arrival the police officers were there making measurements and asking some questions to the witnesses. So what’s happened?! My parents went to the farm and in that specific moment the bastard was in his farm. My father went until the bridge and remained on his side. He was intending to have a serious talk, man to man, with the bastard. The bastard enters on his pick-up, passes over the bridge in direction to my father. My father had time only to jump to the brook, but not without a push from the pick-up on his backs. From the police officers measurements, the pick-up was in the opposite sense of the road and passed with the front tire from the bridge side about 10 cm. Later he said to the police officer that it was not his intension to run over my father.

I went with my father to the emergency and remained there for several hours. He had a fissure on his low spine. In the emergency service everybody was astonished with such story. One of the doctors said “Are we in the far west land, or what?!” It was 2 a.m. when I went to the police office with my father to prosecute the bastard for e) killing attempt. I remember my father was tired and confused. My father has answered all the questions made by the police officer, but it was me that I was insisting on prosecute the guy. The police officer was always saying “This is a disagreement between neighbors, the case will be closed”. After 2 hours of nonsense conversation I become angry and said “You will accept our charge and gladly, otherwise tomorrow morning I’ll be here to talk with your superiors. As you have told, you should be at home with your wife and your kids since about 2 hours ago. So if you really love them, you will not take the risk to be dismissed or to be regressed.” End of the story, the guy has made the prosecution, my father has signed the papers and we went home to rest. This story is so serious that PJ (Policia Judiciária) is in charge for the case.

This week my mum said “The bastard is demolishing the bridges”, finally after 2 years, but today she told me “He has only destroyed one; tomorrow I’ll go to the town council to charge him again.” All of us are beginning to see some light at the end of the tunnel... Two f*cking years to compel the bastard to demolish the bridges!! Now, we just need to sit down and watch the decay of the bastard, on paying the court costs and the compensations for all the prosecutions, specially the prosecution e).

By the way, today (September, 26) my parents celebrate their 37th marriage anniversary. Congratulation to both of them.

Forever Young - Alphaville

That’s funny how our mood can change from a minute to another. I was reading some posts this morning and I have comment one of them. I’ve remembered the times where I had not work pressure, life pressure, problems to solve each day… It was if I lived on the wonderland.

Anyway, my comment was just:

*sigh*, I want to be young again!

And here it is the reply from my friend Nikos:

Obsession

Last month I have attended an international conference at Porto. As usual, at lunch time, all the participants try to socialize. And there I was doing the same. I was talking with a guy coming from Netherlands. I do not remember to much of the conversation, but some minutes before a plenary session he said:

Netherland Guy: 4 days of conference is too much!!

me: Yes it is. About 5 days that I didn't go to my office. I miss so much my office that last night I went there.

NG: No, I can not believe it.

me: Yes, it’s true. I was there since 10 p.m. until midnight. Just checking e-mails, nothing important.

NG: I think you need a doctor.

me: I think so… and you?! Are you enjoying your stay in Portugal?! Everybody complains about the weather, but believe me… the weather is just fine, it’s not cold neither too hot.

NG: I would like to have this weather where I live. In fact I’m in holidays.

me: Oh, you have toke some days off while attending the conference.

NG: No, I’m in holidays. Last week I saw somewhere that a conference about numerical simulations will be held here. And here I am. I do not know what I’m going to answer if my boss asks how good were my holidays. I think I’ll answer that I’ve attended a conference.

me: Hummm, he will think that has an excellent employee. Anyway, you really need a doctor too.

NG: I agree with you.

Afraid?!

Today I went to my mother’s house... to visit the dog. The dog is a Doberman (named King) with all most 7 years old. He had a surgery this past Thursday. The right back leg was removed, he had a bone cancer. It's quite choking to see King without a leg.

Well... I have decided to take Mr. Vain with me. Some fresh air from the country will be good for him. I've put the cat on a travel bag and... Here we go.

On the way, I have noticed a bad smell; I thought the cat was flatulent. WRONG... I had a piece of shit on the bag. Ok, the cat has his needs, it was just an accident. I've just washed everything. When coming back, the smell was stronger. STUPID CAT, another piece of shit of the bag, but this time it was more liquid. Again I've washed everything. The cat is at the verandah and he will not enter in the house while he does not wash itself completely.

I have a cat which has afraid to travel in a car. Huumm, I'm thinking on change his name to Mr. Cagones.

The Curse of my Life - Part II

Today, my friend gaves me a new letter. I really don’t know either if I have a clone or if mister Chiquinho is drunken all the time. At least he remembers our last meeting was kind of painful to him.

*ironic mode*
Damn it… The meeting was yesterday, I’ve missed it!
*/ironic mode*

The Curse of my Life

The next story is a real story, it’s not a joke. Try to not laugh to much otherwise some tears will role on your face.

Last year, one month after of my return from USA I’ve started to have some undesirable visits. The visits were not for me, but for my friend which I lived with. The guy is between 50 and 60 years old, bad looking, drunken man, stupid and all the bad words that we can find in the dictionary.

Firstly he began to visit the gate. Yes... That’s it. He passed on the street and stopped always in the other side of the street looking at the gate for 2 to 3 hours. In that time, we laughed about the situation. I saw the guy almost everyday when I was coming from work. Once I’ve stopped the car and asked him what he really wants from me. I say from ‘me’ because it was I that saw always that statue in front of the gate. My friend was watching TV at that specific hour.

I was watering the garden, and there he was. I was washing the car, and there he was. I was checking the mail box, and there he was. Etc, etc, etc… Until the day he got the phone number of my friend. She has answered one time; I have answered the other thousand times. Once I was at Algarve in holydays and the guy was messing all the time by phone. I would like to shut down the phone, but it was not mine.

He has written some letters, wow… beautiful letters… saying that he was a rich man because he have sold 3 cows. With the money he went to the dentist to *put* on his mouth some new teeth. Now with new teeth he could have a girlfriend.

The house where I lived had a fence with high trees. It was great, because we could be in the backyard in lingerie. Once I was at the backyard in lingerie. I was checking if my laundry was dry. Suddenly I saw the guy’s head between the shrubs. Oh boy, I was so mad… I’ve dressed up quickly. I’ve picked a broom and followed the guy along the street about 500 meters. Unfortunately the guy has run away.

On a Saturday morning of August, the guy calls. The phone was ringing about 30 minutes. My friends insisted on not shutting down the phone. I was desperate, I could not ear any more the ring tone. I’ve picked the phone and spoken rudely with the guy. He said: “I will turn your life miserable.” I’ve hanged the phone, taken my car and driven to the police office.

After telling these beautiful stories to the police officers, the men laugh. The police woman told me: “Give him a fright.” I’ve replied: “Are you kidding?! If I do that, the guy comes here and complaints to you about me.” The woman just said: “Don’t worry. Just give him a fright.”

Ok, great, cool. I had look for his address and found it. I went there. He lived in an old house in the middle of corn fields. I’ve stopped the car far away enough and went by foot to his house. I’ve taken the steel whip that was under the driver seat and hidden it inside my pants. We met on the way… in the middle of a corn field. I’ve asked: “So you want to turn my life miserable, right?!” He said: “I was joking” (Eu estava a brincar - PT). I’ve replied: “So let’s play” (Ora vamos lá brincar - PT).

Arms, shoulders, ribs, backs, kidneys… I have not hit the guy on his head. That would be his final sentence. I gave him a new shape. This beautiful story ended. At least I though so…

Last week I have received another letter in my old house. The letter was inside a transparent plastic bag attached to the gate with scotch tape, as usual. Definitively, the guy does not know the concept of mail box. Without any more comments, read with your own eyes. It is amazing in plain XXI century, to receive this spectacular specimen.

The envelope

The letter

My favorite part is the one where he is sorry for the mistake on writing the phone number and explains that’s the number below.

Now talking seriously, what am I going to do?! If he finds were I’m living now and tries to mess me again, I’ll kill the guy.

Portuguese Steaks

Since September 2006 I live in a completely new flat. The flat has 3 fronts, east, south and west; each front has a wonderful and gorgeous view. At the east we can see the castle of Guimarães and the Penha church. At south there is a big garden which has a small kid garden and we can see an overview of the city. At the west, there is an overview of the street with plenty of trees.

In the first 2 mounts I have done some home work, which includes making some noise with a hammer. And I was not the only one making noise. I always though that someone was doing the same as me. We are in May 2007 and all the building ears someone working with a hammer since 9 a.m. until 11 p.m. at work days. At the weekends we can ear the noise after 6 p.m. until 11 p. m.

Last Sunday I’ve reached my limit. I was on each floor of the building, ringing on each door and asking to the people if it was them that were working with a hammer. Everybody was saying the noise was annoying and didn’t know who the worker was. After 80 minutes of ringing and talking, I’ve quit. It was nobody, I could not believe.

I remember that I need to put the garbage out, so I left home and when I was outside the building I have realized that the noise was coming from the kitchen of the restaurant!! I went to the restaurant to know what they were doing on the kitchen. I have explained that all the building was angry with the noise all over the time. The guy answered me “Perhaps it’s my colleague in the kitchen beating the steaks.”

I was astonished with the answer. I could not believe that all the noise was just “beating steaks”. Yesterday I had a talk with the restaurant owner and explained that he could not continue beating steaks. He knew that I was complaining about the hammer noise since several months ago, but he was surprised when he founds it was from his kitchen that was coming the irritable noise.

I really don’t know if I should laugh or cry.

Need of afection :-(

This afternoon I've got an injury. A scratch on my face and a hole on my left thumb. After 2 hours, the damn thumb is still bleeding. The cause?! I was trying to save a f*cking micro slide that was falling from my hands.

As in Portugal we say:

Panicking

Sometimes we need to take the control of the situation, at least is what I think. But instead to become the master, people panics. I really hope people panics, because my mind sometimes thinks that people simply doesn’t care about the situation.

Ok, let’s put all this panic on understandable words…

One day, I was crossing the street when I saw a crowd standing in the middle of the road. I have approached to the crowd and I was astonished: a woman on the ground, her head was bleeding and everybody was looking at her doing nothing. The traffic was stopped. I was late for the Linear Algebra class, but I have dropped the notebook, pushed some people until to get near the woman. I have dragged the woman to the sidewalk and ordered to the people to stand back. A man has helped me to drag the woman by her shoulders; he has phoned to an ambulance, picked up my notebook and the lady’s purse.

Another occasion was in a supermarket. A lady was standing on the cash line when suddenly she falls unconscious. As usual, a crowd surrounded her doing nothing. Her husband was trying to wake-up the lady, but nobody was moving a finger to get help. I have leave my task behind (I was a cashier) to disperse the crowd and called a doctor.

Another one was with one of my relatives. Everybody was screaming “Oh my God, oh my God” and done nothing. It was I that wrap my father into a blanket and take the car out of the garage (I had only 16 years old). It took 10 minutes to people get out of panic and trying to understand what was happening. While my mother was driving until the hospital I have make a phone call to the hospital explaining the emergency that was coming to there.

Why people stand looking doing nothing?! Is it panic?! Or is it a kind of “I don’t care, but I’m curious”?! I already had three accidents that could have taken my life. I’m not joking and I’m not proud of it, since two of them were my fault. I have got help on the first one. I was a child with 7 years old. At the second accident a guy said “Miss, are you ok?!” A crowd was surrounding me but nobody touched me. Is this panic?! It was not just a little car accident as usual women have. Well… the third, it was a “dejá vu” with my mother screaming “Oh my god, oh my god!”. Of course I haven’t got any help.

There are no doubts that sometimes people panics. I really hope that people doesn’t stand without helping just to look and have fun. Basically, we need to help people as we can, but, unfortunately, we can not expect to get help from anyone in this world.

To please me

How many times you have tried to please someone and how many times you have really pleased who you want?! I deduce that often times. But if this someone was me, I’m sure that your rate of success would be not so high.

This last weekend I have remembered an episode with an ex-boyfriend. Usually I don’t like to be stucked on a relationship, well… what I want to say is that I like to put everything moving, changing in a way to not transform the relationship into a boring routine. Basically, no one gets bored with me, but I really don’t want get bored, otherwise… (you know the story).

One day:
Boy: “What to you want that I do to please you?!”
Me: “Just surprise me!”
Boy: “But how?!”
Me: “Use your imagination.”

In fact, he has not used his imagination. I wonder if he someday will have this gift. He has tried to please me, but unfortunately he was unsuccessful. He has offered me some jewellery. I have refused, I could not accept that, but he was so insistent… oh well, the jewellery in on a little box since a few years ago.

Some years before, someone gave me books. Ok, I like to read; I have hundred of books, but to give a book you should know the type of readings that someone likes. On another occasion someone gave me a Rap CD music… (no comments). To give lingerie without knowing the correct size is nonsense. I have bras at home which are 3 sizes above mine.

It’s so easy to please a girl (well… me), why people just turn everything complicated? Here are some unforgettable moments of my life:

- A stolen rose from a garden by the morning just after wake up.
- A kiss under a thunderstorm on the street.
- To be kidnapped for a romantic weekend.
- To be carried on a man arms into the bedroom.
- A man hand on our face to clean the tears without asking what’s wrong.
- A look into the eyes, a tied hug and a silent company.
- To be waked up at 5 a.m. just to heard “I love you.”
- To be pushed for a dance with a craft candy on his mouth instead a rose.
- …

And some more. Many people say that I’m complicated. I call myself a dreamer and a friend of mine calls me the eternal romantic. Today I finish this message with a rose… a rose for you who reads these few words.