daddy's day

Today is father's day here in Brazil.

I am not going to be one of those people who posts a picture of their father. Primarily because I don't want to post anything that might identify who I am. Not that anyone cares. But I care. I would rather not be associated with what I write here. The cloak of anonymity brings me comfort. Even at the advanced age of 30 my self-esteem has remained at the lower levels. I don't really hate myself. It's just that in my family a healthy self-esteem is seen as an inappropriate personality trait. On the other hand, we have always been encouraged to cultivate all of our compulsions, which include narcissism, overeating and, self-sabotage. Therefore the idea of putting a picture of my father, or, God forbid, of myself here is absolutely absurd to me. Which might be strange to you since I just admitted to being narcissistic. But you see, that is how fucked up I am. I believe myself to be interesting enough to have a blog, but am also ashamed enough of myself to ever take responsibility for my thoughts. It's a very fine balance, which I am proud to say, I have evolved into an art form.

Anyway. Happy father's day, Father.

david brought me back

And also my friend L. This is a blog that has a low, low readership. Which suits me fine. I am of the philosophy that the fewer people who read what I have to say about the world and its inhabitants, the better.

So it's been a while. Wish I had a better excuse for not writing other than "I wasn't feeling it". But that is pretty much my excuse. I wasn't feeling it.

So aside from L. having brought me back, I encountered this picture on people.com.

What the fuck is this. I don't even want to know.

You can always count on The Hoff, can you not?

doctor, doctor

Had a consultation with a new doctor yesterday. Very, very cute. I have to return for a follow-up consultation next month and am already planning an outfit to wear. Something that says "feel free to examine me" in a non-whorish way.

Anyway, have a good weekend.

pen pals

(image via we heart it)

I really, really miss having a pen pal. Used to have one, this girl from Australia. We were friends in school, but we both moved away and maintained our friendship through e-mail. Then she came to visit me some years later and turned out to be this colossal bitch. Some relationships should remain only in writing.

Anyway, I really want a pen pal again.

men in skates

Olympic gold medalist Evan Lysacek (U.S.A.)...

and Olympic silver medalist Yevgeny Plushenko (Russia).

(images via Reuters)

There's something about men in full bodysuits gliding on ice.

back with a vengeance

Not really, I'm just back.

The weekend following Carnaval - which is next week - myself, the Sister and L. are going to be doing this:

L. sent me these pictures so that I had a real idea of what we were in for.

Looking at the images, I don't quite recall why I agreed to do this. But if I fall off the boat, crack my head open on a rock and DIE, it was nice to meet you.

i'm just going to say it

I like Victoria Beckham's collection. I do. It's consistent with her style, you can see her in it. That's all you can really ask for. Consistency with who you are.

I would wear any one of these.

(images via Victoria Beckham)

Who ever thought that she was the smart Spice Girl.

1:21 a.m.

Rare is the day when I go to bed before midnight. Sleeping early has never been my thing. I like the night; especially the deep hours into the night. Everything is sharp and crisp. The events of the previous day become clearer. And I am able to make decisions without the noise of everything and everyone else interfering.

Do you talk to yourself? I do, at night. Constantly. Sometimes things have to be said out loud, even if I am the only one hearing it.

Last year I had to make a decision about whether to continue seeing this guy. He was completely wrong for me. I knew it from the moment he kissed me. Holding his hand was a monumental chore. He was taller than me, so he would hoist my hand up to about mid-torso, his elbow bended. As if I were some child, being gently dragged along, my arm raised at an uncomfortable level. Who the hell holds hands like that. Tell me.

But I had been alone for a while and I thought that I had to tolerate his wrongness. You know, give it a try. Maybe I was wrong, I thought, and eventually would learn to properly trail alongside him in the streets of São Paulo.

I talked to myself about all of the above one night. It was around 3 a.m. when I realised that, fuck it, he is wrong. That I wanted someone who was a better fit. That being alone, talking to myself, was superior to being with the wrong person. I have always known that, yet let this awareness get lost. Why let that go? Just so you can be held at night? Hell, no. Wait for the better fit.

In the meantime, there's always television. And the night.

2:07 a.m.

I wanted to write something good and meaningful.

But this will have to do for now.

i want you to know...

... that I smell really good today.

the oscar will go to...

I am now going to write at length about who will win Oscars this year. I know you don't care, but, frankly, I don't give a shit.

This has been a tough year for predictions. As the Golden Globes and the SAG awards have already made their picks, it is easier to predict who will walk away with the Oscar in the top categories.

In general, this is a year where money-makers will be rewarded and traditionally overlooked actors will be acknowledged by the Academy.

Best Film

I just want to say that I find it deeply annoying that the Academy has decided to nominate ten films this year, as opposed to the traditional five. Instead of extending the list of nominated films, they should start making better choices. Like last year, when they should have clearly nominated "The Dark Knight", but didn't. This year they could show some taste and NOT nominate "Avatar". It's a crap film, everyone knows it, so stop being all impressed with the visual effects.

But Avatar will win. This film has made so much fucking money, already having surpassed Titanic as the top-grossing film of all time, that the Academy will want to give it an Oscar. They must be trembling with orgasmic glee at all that money.

However. If there is an upset, The Hurt Locker will take top prize. It ain't gonna happen, though. That goddamn Avatar is blinding everyone with all that money and stupid fucking special effects.

Best Actor

I would like to see Colin Firth win best actor. It is widely acknowledged that his role in "A Single Man" is a career best. But he has lost out to Jeff Bridges at this point, who seems set to win his first Oscar for "Crazy Heart". This will be a case of giving Bridges the award he should have won years ago ("Tron", "The Contender", "The Big Lebowski", etc.). This is definitely his year, and deservedly so.

Best Actress

Out of all the main categories, this seems to be the most unpredictable. The likely nominees are Gabourey Sidibe (Precious), Carey Mulligan (An Education), Meryl Streep (Julie & Julia), Sandra Bullock (The Blind Side), Helen Mirren (The Last Station).

Both Gabourey Sidibe and Carey Mulligan, though praised as hell for their respective roles, are still in their early years as actors/stars to actually win the Oscar. Also, their momentum has died down considerably since their names were first considered for the prize. Helen Mirren has won her Oscar already. The contest is between Sandra Bullock and Meryl Streep. Streep, who has been nominate about 549 times making her the most nominated actor ever, is bound to win her third Oscar at some point. But her portrayal of Julia Child will not bring her such luck. The Academy should have awarded her another Oscar as Best Supporting Actress for "Adaptation", but did not. They should have given it to her for "The Devil Wears Prada", but did not. They won't embarrass themselves this year and give it to her for this lesser role.

So in a year of rewarding money makers and actors who have been relegated to the sidelines at awards shows, this will be the year of Sandra Bullock. And I like that.

Even if hers is not the best performance, she has made buckets of money this past year. The Proposal did very well, and The Blind Side made history as the first female-led film to hit the $200 million mark in box office. This ain't no small feat. Bullock clearly fits the money maker criteria for this year's Oscars. Also, she is universally liked as an actress. Well, I like her. Which is universal enough.

Unlike Julia Roberts, Sandra Bullock has not drowned in arrogance into her 40s. At 45 years of age, her career is still in full gear. In the spirit of inclusion (nominating ten films, giving Bridges his first Oscar), the Academy will give Sandra Bullock her first nomination and Oscar for a career that, quite frankly, has quietly surpassed in talent (yes, talent), charisma and box office those of Hollywood's most powerful stars.

Best Supporting Actor

Not much to say here. Christoph Waltz will win the Oscar because no actor this year BLEW OUR MINDS as he did in "Inglourious Basterds" as Nazi officer Hans Landa. Actually, I object to him being nominated in the supporting actor category. But whatever. He is going to win.

Best Supporting Actress

Also set in stone. Mo'nique will win her first Oscar as the diabolical Mary Jones in "Precious". The other probable nominees pale in comparison to her monstrous performance. Also, the Academy loves it when a comedian turns dramatic.

Best Director

James Cameron will not win. Avatar made all this stinking money boring us to death with their stupid blue people. But the Academy always likes to make a little history so... Katherine Bigelow, Cameron's ex-wife, will be the first female director to receive an Oscar for "The Hurt Locker". It also helps that she is the most deserving.

As a side note, I think that Hollywood is secretly annoyed by James Cameron, but since he makes a lot of money, they tolerate him. James Cameron annoys the shit out of me. What the hell was that "king of the world" crap about.

Big Brother Brasil

The 10th edition of Brazil's version of Big Brother looks promising.

Having only premiered this past Tuesday, there has already been a gay kiss (which, I am sure, is a real shocker in our little homophobic nation) AND a boob slip (around 3:40).

Truly, I couldn't have asked for anything better.

resolution, part 3

Wear more sequins.

(image via we heart it)

'Cause you can never wear enough.

resolution, part 2

The Huffington Post asks which man I want to kiss at midnight. So on the eve before 2011, any of the following will do:

(images via here)

With tongue, preferably.

resolution, part 1

In the days leading up to 2010, I will post some my New Year resolutions. So...

I will shun current girlfriends of ex-boyfriends from my Facebook. Because they really shouldn't be there in the first place.

i have caved

half past one in the morning

For the life of me, I cannot sleep.

I took a four hour nap this afternoon because I have contracted a cold right in the middle of a Brazilian summer. Just in time for the family X-mas dinner tomorrow night, too.

I am not looking forward to it. I don't like the excessive eating that will take up residence on my ass. I'm Brazilian, I don't need extra junk in the trunk.

I don't like the raisins showing up in every Christmas dish. They look like turds and make me want to vomit.

I don't like the forceful smile you have to conjure up when your grandmother gives you a wad of cash, while you just gave her a pair of shitty slippers. This is the woman who bore the woman who bore you, for god's sake.

Also, I realised that my tags on this blog are very very dull. WTF, coolshit, bedroom...? I mainly made up only these few tags because I cannot be fucked to think of something new every time I post something. But then again, if I don't put in the effort you will not like me. And you will not read me. And all I ever want is to be popular.

No, not really. I don't really give a fuck.