Today I joined the ranks of people who have personal trainers. That sounds so decadent to me. But as of today, I have a trainer for one hour a week. Her name is Carla, and she's cute and funny and 27 years old and speaks English and looks like she exercises A LOT.
My appointed hour with her is from 7:45 to 8:45 on Tuesday mornings and I must admit I was looking pretty good in some of my new exercise gear today. Color-coordinated and all. I even shaved my legs for the occasion.
Carla had me walk on the treadmill for 10 minutes to get warmed up. She didn't set the treadmill at a fast speed, so I breezed through that. Then we went over to one of those weight machines for your legs. I NEVER use those machines because they really intimidate me. They have all these pins that move the seat up and down and forward and backward and more pins to change the weights. It's just too much for me to figure out. Well she put me on this thing that worked the fronts of my thighs. Piece of cake. She had to add more weight on twice because I was so strong. Clearly she must have been thinking I was going to be her star pupil.
Then she had me flip on my stomach on the same machine to work the backs of my thighs. O-U-C-H. She went down to the lowest weight on the machine and it hurt so much. I am such a weak loser. The good thing is I only had to do 3 sets of 15 reps each (with a break in between) so I knew the torture wouldn't last forever.
We then moved over to a bench where I was laying on my back and was going use free weights to work on triceps. She chose the weights she thought would be good, and so that I would learn the correct movement, she guided me through the first couple reps. Then she let go and the weights were much heavier than I expected and I almost bonked my head. Close call. I had totally lost star pupil status by now.
We then moved on to other fun things that will render my inner and outer thighs and calf muscles useless tomorrow. We did stomach crunches, which are really my least favorite exercise of all time. When I told her I hated crunches, she told me hate was a strong word and to start moving. And I'll be lucky if I can lift the milk out of the fridge in the morning because my arms will probably just hang by my sides.
And that was all before we moved on to stretching. My idea of stretching stems from my love of yoga classes. There's some nice music playing in the background, you concentrate on your breathing, and it's a really lovely, serene atmosphere. Carla's idea of stretching is to lift your legs in the air with one knee crossed over the other and she leans on them with all her body weight so that your hamstrings think they're 2 milliseconds away from absolutely popping. Or she pulls your arms so far straight back behind you that they're nearly touching. Can that possibly be good for the body?
Of course I know in theory that this is all good and when I have abs that are remotely recognizable as abs, this will all be worth it. Tomorrow, I'm not so sure how I'm going to feel about it!
And Carla, if you're reading this post, I really loved the class and being with you today and I am counting the minutes until next Tuesday!:)
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Friday: the day that would not end
My days in Sao Paulo aren't generally stressful as I don't plan too much for any one day. You never know if traffic is going to cooperate, and I need to be home by 3:30 to get Mac off the bus.
So my planned schedule for Friday was the following:
7:45am - get Mac on the bus
10am - go to grocery store to pick up care package stuff for one of Jimmy's colleagues who was in the hospital
11am - arrive at hospital to visit Jimmy's colleague
11:30am - go to Starbucks because my favorite Starbucks in Sao Paulo is conveniently located near the hospital
1pm - go to Mac's school to help set up American booth for International Festival on Saturday
3pm - pick up Jimmy at consulate (Mac had a playdate arranged) so we could get to Brazilian Federal Police by 4pm to get our federal police record (YEAH!)
Sometimes planned and actual don't jive. Here's what happened:
7:45am - got Mac on the bus
10am - went to grocery store to pick up care package stuff for Jimmy's colleagues
11am - arrived at hospital and visited with colleague and his parents. Volunteered to go by consulate to take care of some stuff for colleague.
11:15am - called Jimmy from car to see if he was at consulate to drop off colleague's stuff. He said he was there and could I come by then? Starbucks off the schedule but thinking that I can swing by McDonald's after consulate for a Happy Meal.
11:25am - pulling into consulate, I received a phone call from a friend asking if I was still at the hospital. She'd just had a dizzy spell (after a car accident when she hit her head) and was understandably nervous. She said she was going to take a taxi to the hospital, but I told her I would come get her and take her back to the hospital. No Starbucks, no McDonald's. Now chewing a stick of gum for lunch.
11:30am - dropped off stuff from colleague for Jimmy. Had him meet me in the parking lot to save time in picking up friend.
11:50am - picked up friend to go back to hospital (which, in 1.5 years in Sao Paulo, I had never visited - now twice in one day!)
11:52am - dropped off International Festival decorations at school because I knew there was no way I'd be back by 1pm meeting time.
12:15pm - arrived at Emergency Room and learned how the intake process works (which hopefully we won't need in the next 2.5 months). Called other American booth mothers from school to tell them I'd be late but that my stuff was there.
1:15pm - received call from one of the school moms asking if anybody else was coming as she was the only person who'd shown up.
1:30pm - left ER (friend's husband joined her there by now), but had to wait - for second time that day - an inordinately long time for hospital valet to bring car around. Chewed another stick of gum for second course of lunch.
2:10pm - arrived at school, thinking I only had 30 minutes to work before leaving to get Jimmy.
2:30pm - received a voice mail from Jimmy (no reception inside school) that said we didn't have to leave consulate until 3:45pm (and not 3pm).
3:30pm - left school and realized I was almost out of gas after traversing the city a couple times today. Quick stop at gas station where I finally had a nice attendant who wanted to wash all the windows of the car, but sadly I didn't have time to sit there while he washed everything.
3:40pm - ran through drive-through of McDonald's for french fries and Coke Zero. Before circling the block, everything has been devoured. I even dug out the straggler fries and ate the ice in the coke. Should have gotten a supersized meal.
3:45pm - arrive at consulate and miss Jimmy while he comes back from mailroom and I'm using the bathroom. Go to his office, he wraps up stuff and we leave with a map in hand of how to get to this police superintendency which is way on the northern side of the city.
4pm - on the road
4:45pm - stuck in traffic
4:50pm - talk to our police contact who's going to meet us. He asks where we are, we tell him, he says we've gone too far, but we tell him the address we were given and it turns out we were supposed to meet him at a mall parking lot so he could get there a short-cut way. Shoot. I hate miscommunication. Police department closes at 5:30pm. Will we have time to get there and actually get the report?
5pm - get to police department but our contact is still en route after crossed signals. He gets somebody else to help us and we get started.
5:15pm - our contact shows up
5:30pm - we start getting nervous because the guy doing the check tells us it'll be 20 minutes and the garage where we've parked our car is only open until 6pm.
5:45pm - do we need to move the car? Fique tranquilo, we're told (stay calm). The reports should be ready any minute.
5:50pm - the man comes out with our reports, we thank everybody profusely, and we get back to the car before the garage closes. Our contact is so nice - he escorts us the short-cut way that we missed so we can avoid some of the bad traffic.
7:15pm - a mere 1 hour and 15 minutes later of horrible Friday afternoon, rush-hour traffic, we arrive back at our apartment complex to pick up Mac
7:45pm - arrive at our neighborhood churrascaria because we think we've earned a lot of meat and grilled cheese after this day.
The bad news: Friday's long day was followed by Saturday's long day at the festival and then dinner with friends. I need a weekend to recover from the weekend.
The good news: all's well that ends well. At the end of the day, the missing piece of our adoption paperwork puzzle (for at least this part of the puzzle) is done. We have the federal police report and now just need to make that quick trip to Rio to the consulate. More to come...
So my planned schedule for Friday was the following:
7:45am - get Mac on the bus
10am - go to grocery store to pick up care package stuff for one of Jimmy's colleagues who was in the hospital
11am - arrive at hospital to visit Jimmy's colleague
11:30am - go to Starbucks because my favorite Starbucks in Sao Paulo is conveniently located near the hospital
1pm - go to Mac's school to help set up American booth for International Festival on Saturday
3pm - pick up Jimmy at consulate (Mac had a playdate arranged) so we could get to Brazilian Federal Police by 4pm to get our federal police record (YEAH!)
Sometimes planned and actual don't jive. Here's what happened:
7:45am - got Mac on the bus
10am - went to grocery store to pick up care package stuff for Jimmy's colleagues
11am - arrived at hospital and visited with colleague and his parents. Volunteered to go by consulate to take care of some stuff for colleague.
11:15am - called Jimmy from car to see if he was at consulate to drop off colleague's stuff. He said he was there and could I come by then? Starbucks off the schedule but thinking that I can swing by McDonald's after consulate for a Happy Meal.
11:25am - pulling into consulate, I received a phone call from a friend asking if I was still at the hospital. She'd just had a dizzy spell (after a car accident when she hit her head) and was understandably nervous. She said she was going to take a taxi to the hospital, but I told her I would come get her and take her back to the hospital. No Starbucks, no McDonald's. Now chewing a stick of gum for lunch.
11:30am - dropped off stuff from colleague for Jimmy. Had him meet me in the parking lot to save time in picking up friend.
11:50am - picked up friend to go back to hospital (which, in 1.5 years in Sao Paulo, I had never visited - now twice in one day!)
11:52am - dropped off International Festival decorations at school because I knew there was no way I'd be back by 1pm meeting time.
12:15pm - arrived at Emergency Room and learned how the intake process works (which hopefully we won't need in the next 2.5 months). Called other American booth mothers from school to tell them I'd be late but that my stuff was there.
1:15pm - received call from one of the school moms asking if anybody else was coming as she was the only person who'd shown up.
1:30pm - left ER (friend's husband joined her there by now), but had to wait - for second time that day - an inordinately long time for hospital valet to bring car around. Chewed another stick of gum for second course of lunch.
2:10pm - arrived at school, thinking I only had 30 minutes to work before leaving to get Jimmy.
2:30pm - received a voice mail from Jimmy (no reception inside school) that said we didn't have to leave consulate until 3:45pm (and not 3pm).
3:30pm - left school and realized I was almost out of gas after traversing the city a couple times today. Quick stop at gas station where I finally had a nice attendant who wanted to wash all the windows of the car, but sadly I didn't have time to sit there while he washed everything.
3:40pm - ran through drive-through of McDonald's for french fries and Coke Zero. Before circling the block, everything has been devoured. I even dug out the straggler fries and ate the ice in the coke. Should have gotten a supersized meal.
3:45pm - arrive at consulate and miss Jimmy while he comes back from mailroom and I'm using the bathroom. Go to his office, he wraps up stuff and we leave with a map in hand of how to get to this police superintendency which is way on the northern side of the city.
4pm - on the road
4:45pm - stuck in traffic
4:50pm - talk to our police contact who's going to meet us. He asks where we are, we tell him, he says we've gone too far, but we tell him the address we were given and it turns out we were supposed to meet him at a mall parking lot so he could get there a short-cut way. Shoot. I hate miscommunication. Police department closes at 5:30pm. Will we have time to get there and actually get the report?
5pm - get to police department but our contact is still en route after crossed signals. He gets somebody else to help us and we get started.
5:15pm - our contact shows up
5:30pm - we start getting nervous because the guy doing the check tells us it'll be 20 minutes and the garage where we've parked our car is only open until 6pm.
5:45pm - do we need to move the car? Fique tranquilo, we're told (stay calm). The reports should be ready any minute.
5:50pm - the man comes out with our reports, we thank everybody profusely, and we get back to the car before the garage closes. Our contact is so nice - he escorts us the short-cut way that we missed so we can avoid some of the bad traffic.
7:15pm - a mere 1 hour and 15 minutes later of horrible Friday afternoon, rush-hour traffic, we arrive back at our apartment complex to pick up Mac
7:45pm - arrive at our neighborhood churrascaria because we think we've earned a lot of meat and grilled cheese after this day.
The bad news: Friday's long day was followed by Saturday's long day at the festival and then dinner with friends. I need a weekend to recover from the weekend.
The good news: all's well that ends well. At the end of the day, the missing piece of our adoption paperwork puzzle (for at least this part of the puzzle) is done. We have the federal police report and now just need to make that quick trip to Rio to the consulate. More to come...
Monday, March 23, 2009
bedtime prayers
A couple days ago Mac asked me what the word "ancestor" meant. So I drew a little family tree to explain who his ancestors were.
Imagine my surprise when, during his bedtime prayer tonight, he asked God to bless his "ancestors and an-brothers."
I now realize that when I drew the quick family tree, I used all women, hence the an-sisters!
Imagine my surprise when, during his bedtime prayer tonight, he asked God to bless his "ancestors and an-brothers."
I now realize that when I drew the quick family tree, I used all women, hence the an-sisters!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
polka dots
Thursday was my day to carpool to swim class. Mac and his friend were in the middle seat of the minivan chatting and I as their chauffer was eavesdropping which is what I'm sure all professional chauffers do anyway.
We passed a man who had an extraordinarily big nose and that led them to a discussion about different face types and shapes and looks. Mac told Christian that one difference in their faces is that he (Mac) has polka dots across his face. He was so proud of his polka dots. I have no idea where he learned to call freckles that, but this is yet another reason why I love that kid.
We passed a man who had an extraordinarily big nose and that led them to a discussion about different face types and shapes and looks. Mac told Christian that one difference in their faces is that he (Mac) has polka dots across his face. He was so proud of his polka dots. I have no idea where he learned to call freckles that, but this is yet another reason why I love that kid.
success!
I am pleased to report that we have our Sao Paulo State police reports. We arrived promptly at 4pm, were escorted right to one of the two people we were to ask for, filled out our forms, got our fingerprints taken, and VOILA! Twenty minutes later we were the proud owners of two pieces of paper that said that my beloved and I had not committed any crimes in the great state of Sao Paulo.
After thanking this woman profusely, we then went to the cartorio, where we had to pay $R6 for these notary-type people to say they recognized the signatures of the delegate who signed the police report (which I guess attests to the fact that we didn't forge this document).
The use of the cartorio is a topic for another day, but Brazilian have to do everything by way of the cartorio. You want to buy or sell a house? You want to register the birth of a baby? You want to change the board members of the American Women's Club in Brasilia? You go to the cartorio.
Now we wait for the jeitinho to take effect for the federal police report and we are on our way to Rio.
After thanking this woman profusely, we then went to the cartorio, where we had to pay $R6 for these notary-type people to say they recognized the signatures of the delegate who signed the police report (which I guess attests to the fact that we didn't forge this document).
The use of the cartorio is a topic for another day, but Brazilian have to do everything by way of the cartorio. You want to buy or sell a house? You want to register the birth of a baby? You want to change the board members of the American Women's Club in Brasilia? You go to the cartorio.
Now we wait for the jeitinho to take effect for the federal police report and we are on our way to Rio.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
allow me to introduce you to my friend, the Brazilian jeitinho
I haven't updated in awhile on the adoption process, but it's moving along full throttle. We have engaged the services of an American adoption agency with offices in Charleston and Flat Rock, NC. I've participated in the introductory "webinar" on the international adoption process, the first check to the agency is in the mail, and our home study is done and has been preliminarily accepted by the adoption agency. So these are all positive steps in the right direction to the adoption of our Ethiopian-born child.
We now have to file Form I-600A, an application of intent to adopt an international orphan, with the Department of Homeland Security's Citizenship and Immigration Services Office. Because we live in Sao Paulo, we have to present ourselves, a pile of documents and the completed form to the US Consulate in Rio de Janeiro (where they handle such things for international adoptions by Americans living in Brazil). I'm up for a trip to Rio as much as the next person, but time is really ticking down for all of us, but particularly for Jimmy, so time is really of the essence. And of course, this is one of those cases where we both have to present ourselves. I can't just do it on my own.
So I have compiled our stack of documents - tax returns, birth certificates, marriage certificate, all our assets, W-2s, photos of current apartment, home study, fingerprints, doctor's notes, etc. You name it, I've got it.
The two things we're lacking are police reports from the Brazilian Federal Police and the Sao Paulo State Secretary of Public Security. Imagine calling the FBI out of the blue and telling them you need a police report from them. You'd be lucky if somebody even wrote down your name. Well imagine that on steroids and you find us in our current predicament with the Brazilian government.
Behold the power of the Brazilian jeitinho. If you're Brazilian and reading this, forgive me for talking about the jeitinho. The Brazilian jeitinho is really the only way to get anything done quickly and efficiently here and as best I can tell, it's really only available to people who are well-connected or who have money. We are not of the latter, but thankfully we have made some contacts during our 3.5 years in Brazil.
Imagine a straight road from point A to point B. That would be the most direct route, but it's impossible to get there because of roadblocks, holes in the road, etc. Imagine now going some crazy back way from A to B - you still get there and it looks way out of the way, but it's a whole lot easier and faster and less headache-inducing than waiting for the roadblocks to clear and for the potholes to be filled. You know the right person who tells you if you go 3 blocks to the right and cut around to the left and go up the hill and come back down by the big tree, you'll avoid all the roadblocks and get straight to point B. That's the jeitinho and it is a beautiful thing if you can take advantage of it.
For the record, I really did attempt to get the police records on my own. I called the Sao Paulo Public Security people first and the conversation went something like this:
Me: I need to get a police record for my husband and me to faciliate an international adoption. We are foreigners here on diplomatic passports so we have no foreigner registration number because diplomats don't get those. I tried to request the police records from your website but we don't have that number so we're not eligible for the internet police report which requires that number.
Lady: That'll be no problem. Just bring both your passports and we can take care of that for you.
Me (with a false sense of optimism): Well that is wonderful news!!! Thank you so much!!!! You are so nice and if I'd caught your name, I would have agreed to name our new child after you, assuming she's a girl, of course!!! When can I make our appointment?
Lady: Appointment (laughing)? Oh, we can't make an appointment. You and your husband (and yes, he has to come with you) just need to come and sit around all day, waiting to be attended to.
Me: We both have to come? And sit all day? Is there a better time of day or better day of week to come when we won't have to wait as long? When would you recommend we come? He's terribly busy and can't really afford to come and sit all day in your un-air-conditioned office.
Lady (laughing hard now): No, SUCKER. You have to come and sit like everybody else and wait and when we get to you, we get to you and you'll be lucky if we don't send you away with a request to come back with more documentation, after which you will come back and wait another full day. (Okay, I might have made up that part, but that's what I imagine she was thinking.)
So that clearly wasn't going to work. I can waste an entire day at the police department, but Jimmy is so busy that he practically has to schedule trips to the bathroom.
Enter the jeitinho.
My former place of employment does a lot of work with both the federal police and the Sao Paulo Secretary of Public Security. So I sent an email yesterday morning to my old office and within minutes, a former colleague called to tell me she'd contacted a guy she knows and he would be in touch to help facilitate the process.
My new best friend Lauro (names have been changed to protect the innocent!) called yesterday to tell me he'd made the right contact and that he'd call me today to confirm the process. I got nervous because he said he'd call around 1pm today to fill me in and the call never came. Never, ever doubt the power of the jeitinho. Lauro called during dinner tonight, apologizing profusely for the delay in calling. "Lauro", I wanted to say, "I am at your mercy. You may call me at 3am if you so desire."
Lauro informed me that Jimmy and I both need to go Friday afternoon at or after 4pm to this office in downtown Sao Paulo with our passports and the letter that says we need the police report. We are to ask for one of two people who are expecting us and they will take care of things from there. We may have to leave a kidney on the way out. I'm not sure. But as long as I get my police report, who needs 2 kidneys anyway?
The federal police report is still in the works. My old office has come up with nothing so far. I've been wracking my brain to figure out who to call and then tonight at dinner, Jimmy casually mentions the guy we hung out with at the Madonna concert, who we've seen at numerous social events and who happens to be some hotshot federal police dude. DUH. Jimmy's job is to call Henrique (name changed to protect the innocent) first thing tomorrow morning to see if he can get the ball rolling. I am more hopeful than ever that we can actually pull this thing off. Our plan is to go to Rio in the next 2 weeks for a quicky fly-in, fly-out trip. We'll fly out early, do our business at the consulate, jump back on the plane and get home before Mac gets out of school.
I don't know how I am going to survive without the jeitinho when we leave Brazil. Has a Moncks Corner jeitinho been invented since I've been away????
We now have to file Form I-600A, an application of intent to adopt an international orphan, with the Department of Homeland Security's Citizenship and Immigration Services Office. Because we live in Sao Paulo, we have to present ourselves, a pile of documents and the completed form to the US Consulate in Rio de Janeiro (where they handle such things for international adoptions by Americans living in Brazil). I'm up for a trip to Rio as much as the next person, but time is really ticking down for all of us, but particularly for Jimmy, so time is really of the essence. And of course, this is one of those cases where we both have to present ourselves. I can't just do it on my own.
So I have compiled our stack of documents - tax returns, birth certificates, marriage certificate, all our assets, W-2s, photos of current apartment, home study, fingerprints, doctor's notes, etc. You name it, I've got it.
The two things we're lacking are police reports from the Brazilian Federal Police and the Sao Paulo State Secretary of Public Security. Imagine calling the FBI out of the blue and telling them you need a police report from them. You'd be lucky if somebody even wrote down your name. Well imagine that on steroids and you find us in our current predicament with the Brazilian government.
Behold the power of the Brazilian jeitinho. If you're Brazilian and reading this, forgive me for talking about the jeitinho. The Brazilian jeitinho is really the only way to get anything done quickly and efficiently here and as best I can tell, it's really only available to people who are well-connected or who have money. We are not of the latter, but thankfully we have made some contacts during our 3.5 years in Brazil.
Imagine a straight road from point A to point B. That would be the most direct route, but it's impossible to get there because of roadblocks, holes in the road, etc. Imagine now going some crazy back way from A to B - you still get there and it looks way out of the way, but it's a whole lot easier and faster and less headache-inducing than waiting for the roadblocks to clear and for the potholes to be filled. You know the right person who tells you if you go 3 blocks to the right and cut around to the left and go up the hill and come back down by the big tree, you'll avoid all the roadblocks and get straight to point B. That's the jeitinho and it is a beautiful thing if you can take advantage of it.
For the record, I really did attempt to get the police records on my own. I called the Sao Paulo Public Security people first and the conversation went something like this:
Me: I need to get a police record for my husband and me to faciliate an international adoption. We are foreigners here on diplomatic passports so we have no foreigner registration number because diplomats don't get those. I tried to request the police records from your website but we don't have that number so we're not eligible for the internet police report which requires that number.
Lady: That'll be no problem. Just bring both your passports and we can take care of that for you.
Me (with a false sense of optimism): Well that is wonderful news!!! Thank you so much!!!! You are so nice and if I'd caught your name, I would have agreed to name our new child after you, assuming she's a girl, of course!!! When can I make our appointment?
Lady: Appointment (laughing)? Oh, we can't make an appointment. You and your husband (and yes, he has to come with you) just need to come and sit around all day, waiting to be attended to.
Me: We both have to come? And sit all day? Is there a better time of day or better day of week to come when we won't have to wait as long? When would you recommend we come? He's terribly busy and can't really afford to come and sit all day in your un-air-conditioned office.
Lady (laughing hard now): No, SUCKER. You have to come and sit like everybody else and wait and when we get to you, we get to you and you'll be lucky if we don't send you away with a request to come back with more documentation, after which you will come back and wait another full day. (Okay, I might have made up that part, but that's what I imagine she was thinking.)
So that clearly wasn't going to work. I can waste an entire day at the police department, but Jimmy is so busy that he practically has to schedule trips to the bathroom.
Enter the jeitinho.
My former place of employment does a lot of work with both the federal police and the Sao Paulo Secretary of Public Security. So I sent an email yesterday morning to my old office and within minutes, a former colleague called to tell me she'd contacted a guy she knows and he would be in touch to help facilitate the process.
My new best friend Lauro (names have been changed to protect the innocent!) called yesterday to tell me he'd made the right contact and that he'd call me today to confirm the process. I got nervous because he said he'd call around 1pm today to fill me in and the call never came. Never, ever doubt the power of the jeitinho. Lauro called during dinner tonight, apologizing profusely for the delay in calling. "Lauro", I wanted to say, "I am at your mercy. You may call me at 3am if you so desire."
Lauro informed me that Jimmy and I both need to go Friday afternoon at or after 4pm to this office in downtown Sao Paulo with our passports and the letter that says we need the police report. We are to ask for one of two people who are expecting us and they will take care of things from there. We may have to leave a kidney on the way out. I'm not sure. But as long as I get my police report, who needs 2 kidneys anyway?
The federal police report is still in the works. My old office has come up with nothing so far. I've been wracking my brain to figure out who to call and then tonight at dinner, Jimmy casually mentions the guy we hung out with at the Madonna concert, who we've seen at numerous social events and who happens to be some hotshot federal police dude. DUH. Jimmy's job is to call Henrique (name changed to protect the innocent) first thing tomorrow morning to see if he can get the ball rolling. I am more hopeful than ever that we can actually pull this thing off. Our plan is to go to Rio in the next 2 weeks for a quicky fly-in, fly-out trip. We'll fly out early, do our business at the consulate, jump back on the plane and get home before Mac gets out of school.
I don't know how I am going to survive without the jeitinho when we leave Brazil. Has a Moncks Corner jeitinho been invented since I've been away????
a happy day at Casa Story
Today I decided to go buy new exercise clothes. I'm going to the gym regularly again and I decided I needed to look the part better. Don't worry - I didn't lose my mind and go Brazilian in the exercise clothes department, i.e., way too much exposed flesh. But I was getting nervous about using those same shorts I trained for the marathon in 9 years ago. Every time I pulled them on, I could hear the dry rot in the elastic waist. I was nervous that the elastic one day was just going to disintegrate and the shorts were going to fall down while I was innocently plodding along on the treadmill.
So I went to the mall and probably over-bought, and then I decided to visit the Extra supercenter-type grocery store that I never go to because it's not very convenient to our apartment. I like this store for a number of reasons but mainly because they've started selling Cherokee brand clothes (like from American Target and I love that brand).
Today I had even more reason to love the Extra. The folks at Casa Story used to be HUGE fans of Stiksies. What, you might ask, are Stiksies? According to my mother, they're only the best pretzel sticks in the whole world. And they used to be a staple at our house until they vanished from all grocery store shelves over a year ago. (And yes, I do know almost to the day when they vanished. It was during my mom's visit last year and one day they were in every grocery store's snack aisle and the next, they weren't).
As you know, we've eliminated junk food from our pantry, so I have stopped visiting the junk food aisle at the grocery store over the last few weeks. Because I rarely go to this Extra, I cruised all the aisles just to check out availability and that's how I happened upon the Stiksies! It was almost as if sunbeams were coming through the Extra's metal roof just to shine around the Stiksies. They even say on the package "they're back!".
Wow, what a day. New gym clothes AND Stiksies (and a new Cherokee tank just because it was there and it was on sale and it kind of goes with one pair of running shorts I bought. Even though I didn't go Brazilian, I still have to match!).
So I went to the mall and probably over-bought, and then I decided to visit the Extra supercenter-type grocery store that I never go to because it's not very convenient to our apartment. I like this store for a number of reasons but mainly because they've started selling Cherokee brand clothes (like from American Target and I love that brand).
Today I had even more reason to love the Extra. The folks at Casa Story used to be HUGE fans of Stiksies. What, you might ask, are Stiksies? According to my mother, they're only the best pretzel sticks in the whole world. And they used to be a staple at our house until they vanished from all grocery store shelves over a year ago. (And yes, I do know almost to the day when they vanished. It was during my mom's visit last year and one day they were in every grocery store's snack aisle and the next, they weren't).
As you know, we've eliminated junk food from our pantry, so I have stopped visiting the junk food aisle at the grocery store over the last few weeks. Because I rarely go to this Extra, I cruised all the aisles just to check out availability and that's how I happened upon the Stiksies! It was almost as if sunbeams were coming through the Extra's metal roof just to shine around the Stiksies. They even say on the package "they're back!".
Wow, what a day. New gym clothes AND Stiksies (and a new Cherokee tank just because it was there and it was on sale and it kind of goes with one pair of running shorts I bought. Even though I didn't go Brazilian, I still have to match!).
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