Stream of Consciousness Sunday: Left Out

I got in a text message argument with a friend today. She hurt my feelings. It started out as all stupid girl arguments do, Facebook. She mass tagged a bunch of girls (half of whom I know and one who is a very good friend of both of us) and did not tag me. She was inviting them all to her place for drinks and then suggested they go out to a concert.

Here comes the messages. I thanked her for the invite. She replied that it was Brazilian music so she didn't think I'd like it. Then added that she called me and I didn't answer (once at like 2 in the afternoon). Finally after I replied with the ever mature "whatever" she stated that she knew I was sick anyway.

I am continuing the maturity by venting about it on my blog. Seriously though, it did hurt my feelings. For starters, if it were only about me being sick that would have been her first answer AND I would have been tagged in the post. I was purely not invited.

The other thing is that she is supposed to be one of my best friends in Rio de Janeiro. I answer her calls when she needs someone to lament to. I reassure her when she feels like we aren't as close as we were. I tell her that "No, my Mommy friends are not replacing her."

You know what, maybe they will because obviously I am not Brazilian nor free enough to go get wasted at your place and stay out until dawn. Yes, I have kids. Yes I am an exhausted Mother. Lastly I was too sick to go out. But we all know an invitation or calling back just for once is really nice. That goes double when I make so much effort to make sure she feels included or loved because she, in particular, needs shit like that. Hey, that's what friends are for, right?

Anyway, she was the last person I thought would make me feel like a rejected 15 yr old. I know I should be above it but I'm only human. I'm a tired and beat down Mother. We have a tendency to get sensitive sometimes. That's why it was doubly nice of her to call me an ass.

I suppose we all know where we stand now.
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This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

Do I Feel Safe in Rio de Janeiro?

"Why can't I carry the ipad to the car?"

"Because we live in Rio de Janeiro and it could get stolen. Sorry sweety, just a fact of life."

That was a little conversation I had with my 5 yr old this weekend. He really wanted to leave the restaurant carrying the ipad. I'm sure it would have been fine but I just don't like to even hint at attracting attention or unwanted action.

It got me thinking. Am I afraid? Wow, talk about a loaded question.

I never ever admit it outright but yes I am sometimes afraid. I have actually stopped reading or watching the news here because of it.

There really are a lot of horrible things happening here! There are also a lot of people who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. That scares the shit out of me. I'm constantly cruising around with my boys and what if we were passing by when there was a random shooting with the police at one of their little kiosky points? What if I was driving with the kids and got carjacked. Would the guy give me enough time to get either or both of my kids out of their seats? (fyi, I have taught my 5 yr old how to get out just in case.) And if I am on my own and stealing just isn't enough, what then?

Honestly, I could go on but I won't. These thoughts sit there in a dark back corner of my mind. I make them stay there. I refuse to live daily playing the 'what if' game. It's just way too real down here to manage that without losing your sanity.

So I decide to not be afraid because, let's be honest, there isn't that good of a chance that it'll happen in my area. *knock on wood*

Generally I don't even think about that dark corner of my brain. I cruise around everywhere, take mass-transit, and *gasp* use my cellphone in public. I live here. I decided a long time ago that if I was going to live here that I would really do it.

That means that I take my obviously American gangly white ass out wherever it needs to go. I take the kids, I listen to my mp3 player, ipod, or whatever and I live my life while sticking to well populated areas *wink wink*.

How about you? Any city ever make you nervous? 

Are you American?

I just met a fellow American at the grocery store. I was perusing the pasta selection when I finished my cell phone call and heard an "excuse me." You learn as an expat in a non-English speaking country that when you hear English at close range it is usually being directed at you, the foreigner. This little fact also makes me quite rude in Portuguese as the person has to say it about 3 times before my head wakes up and I turn around. 

Anyway, I turned and there was a friendly American face. "Hi, are you American?" 

Me: "Actually I am." 

Funny enough, this was the second time I had this same conversation today in my neighborhood (and no I do not live in Leblon or Ipanema). 

So we exchanged expat pleasantries of "what brought you here?" and "How do you like it?" Of course a few minutes had passed and we were heading in different shopping directions. I had my eyes on the leafy greens and he was headed towards the bananas. It was time to part ways. We said a quick nice to meet you and went about our way. 

Strangely enough, I felt like I owed this new acquaintance more than that. It actually crossed my mind that maybe it was rude that I didn't suggest we exchange emails or something.

What the hell is that? Just because he's American? Why would I feel a hint of responsibility to stay in touch just because a person is from my Motherland?

But there is a sense of automatic connection when you meet someone from your country, though it is not full proof. I must admit that I have adapted enough to where I have muttered "annoying American" to Mr. Rant on occasion. That being said, I still have a lot of my annoying American traits as well. What can I say, you can take the girl out of the trailer but you can't take the trailer out of the girl!

Did I just compare the US to a trailer park? I think that's a sign that I should be logging off now. 

Living in Brazil Means No 4th of July!

Enjoying the Coronado parade during our visit 2 years ago

I am missing 4th of July this year. For some reason I am feeling the desire to be with my fellow Americans sitting in lawn chairs, drinking mildly cold beer, eating bbq, and watching fireworks. 

It comes as a bit of a shock because I've had years when I totally forgot that it was the 4th. It's not that I don't like the holiday. I just don't live in the US and I accept that. When you don't live there, you don't really get to celebrate all the same holidays. Of course, I do get to dress up in costumes, drink in the street, and dance the samba. 

This year though, I find myself thinking about San Diego, CA, more specifically Coronado,CA. That is where the 4th of July comes to life. 

And as I read status updates from Nado people on Facebook, I feel an inner 'if only' sigh. You see, everyone from Coronado returns for the 4th. It is one big reunion and it rocks! The 3rd of July is party night. People roam the island on their beach cruisers, going from one bar to another meeting everyone on their way. 

On the 4th, way too early, people line up on the median for the parade. It's a lame one, per any small town 4th of July parade, but we are all there anyway. I think it's the joining of community that brings everyone there so early after such a long night. Of course the bloody marys help. Oh yes, all those people you see with the plastic cups have stopped by Danny's on Orange. Best freaking bloody mary in the world and it will burn the hangover right out from under you. I do believe they start serving at 6am on the 4th, though I could be wrong. 

Anyway, the town buzzes with an excitement as high as a child's. Get-togethers are happening everywhere and new guests are always welcome to pop by. 

This year I wish I could be there. My boys are at a great age to take part in all the festivities. 

But if I had to pick one thing to take them to, it'd be the fireworks in the gulf course. I know Rio de Janeiro's New Years fireworks are amazing and kicks Nado's ass. No one is doubting that. 

It's just that there's something to sitting together on a blanket with your parents on the golf course grass. The air would be cool in the evening and I would have brought along blankets. Mr. Rant and I would have had a beer while the kids had some juice and snacks. Our friends and family would have been sitting next to us on their own blankets. 

And then the show would start. The kids would giggle and follow along with the chants of ooohhhhs and ahhhhhs. The radio playing patriotic songs going along with the beat of the fireworks. It's enough to make any expat feel down right proud to be an American. 

It just makes me kind of sad that my boys are going to look at the 4th as some celebration they sometimes go to when they are visiting my side of the family. Or, at the very least, just another day. 

While it's a rare happening, I sometimes get these pangs of sadness over not being able to share my traditions with the boys to their true extent. Then again, the 4th of July I remember included a HUGE bag of illegal fireworks like black cats and those tanks that shot sparkly stuff out and then sometimes caught on fire. I think those good old days are lost to everyone! 

One of the Beauties in Being an Expat...

There are many beauties in the lives of us expats.  We get to learn about new cultures, travel, and sometimes learn new languages (yes this is a blessing). One of the unexpected beauties for me came in the form of all the other great expats I would meet. I mean, we are drawn to each other like Mr. Schwarzenegger's hand to an ass! And let's not forget that he's an expat in his own right. 

Take today for instance. This American expat went to the home of a Mexican expat and learned to make real corn tortillas from scratch! Mexico, your secret is out of the bag! And you know what, it's not that hard if you don't count the fact that they don't sell the flour you need in Rio de Janeiro. 

And I had a blast! Good company, fun activity, and it ended with a damn good snack. Throw in the adorable baby cheering us on and you have got yourself a great afternoon away from the kids... mine anyway. 

The thing is, we expats kind of end up sticking together. There's a comradery there because of our similar situations. We are all far from home, we are learning about the same new culture/lifestyle, and we can speak to each other in English (or whatever language is your preference)!

It's a part of expat life that I've only just started exploring in the past couple of years or so. And I love the random mix of friends from different places, backgrounds, and lifestyles. At the same time, I think I'm making some friendships that will last a lifetime.

I know I'm getting corny. Don't feel bad for getting nauseous, I just threw up in my mouth a bit too. 

But the point is, I like this part of life here. It's fun to know and meet a new group of people.

By the way, you get total brownie points if Mexican food is involved!