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October 2010



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Oct. 8th, 2010

Keep The Faith

I've been recalling some memories, and realized that I was 11 when I fell in love with that man that sang things like "I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine, 'til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme." I was way too young to fall in love, but he spoke to my heart somehow. I wanted to feel that way. His name was John Francis Bongiovi, and back then I didn't care that he was old enough to be my father. No, wait - he's older than my father.

Then I fell in love with the other man, that one that played his guitar so perfectly. I wanted more. I bought one more CD, and another, and another, a VHS tape (which was all we had back then) with their videos, I even ordered their first CDs from Amazon with my grandma's credit card, without her knowing it, in a time when just a few people felt secure about ordering things online. I felt like I needed to be born in the 60s or 70s, 'cause I wanted to be "a little runaway." I felt bad for not being able to hear "Livin' On A Prayer" when it was released. I never belonged in the 80s anyway.

Bon Jovi was the soundtrack of my teenage years. He has given me strength, made me happy, made me go to the bottom and bounce back to life. He doesn't know it, but I never cared. In 1995, they came to Brazil for a couple of concerts. I lived in a city in the mid-west, and I didn't have the slightest chance of going to those concerts. Years passed by, and I kind of gave up on the dream of watching them play live.

I have to admit that I was a little astray from him the past few years. I didn't care much about what they did after "These Days", but I guess I was just stuck in the past, and to be completely honest, his songs reminded of someone, and I tried to avoid those memories as much as I could. Boy, I was stupid. I could have made new memories.

Life moved on, new music came along, and my "fandom" faded a bit. Earlier this year, rumors about Bon Jovi coming to Brazil started to pop up. I heard those rumors countless times in these 16 years, so I just waited for them to prove themselves fake once again. They didn't. It was for real, and I had to deal with it. I'm married, hubby couldn't care less about Bon Jovi, and I was forced to remind him that early in our relationship, I said that a Bon Jovi concert was one of the few things I wouldn't let go of. I would go, no matter how much - and what - it was going to cost me. I would go by myself, if I had to. That's how serious this was. As the wonderful person that he is, I didn't have to say it twice.

The craziest part is, I never thought I'd go to this concert with a friend that I didn't know in person. I say in person because we know each other in a way that scares us some times. I'm still kicking myself 'cause the very first thing I told her was "You're so tall!" I had better things to say, I was just a bit overwhelmed. Sorry, sistah :)

It didn't really sink in until the very moment when we stepped into the stadium. That was it. I was there. My feet hurt, my back hurt, my knees were not amused, I didn't give a shit. My heart was flooded with absolute joy. There were moments of silence before the show started, but it wasn't awkward. It was just that this experience was way too serious and too important for words.

I have to say that I was numb for the first songs. When Richie played the first chords of "In These Arms", my heart was shattered into pieces, then healed back, then shattered again in "When We Were Beautiful". These guys play with such passion, that it's impossible not to be touched, not to feel those words deep in your soul... and that smile that could melt a diamond.

They played for almost three hours. I could go for more three hours, and I bet they would as well. I can tell you at least a dozen songs that were left out (from my POV, of course), but after 27 years on the run and 15 albums, 29 songs is more than enough. I'm satisfied, I really am.

This concert renewed and reassured my everlasting love for all of them. There's a picture of Richie Sambora and his guitar as my wallpaper now. It's the lyrics, the sound, the dedication, the joy with which they played for me, for us. I swore to myself I'd never abandon them again.

I'm in a permanent state of bliss, and I don't want it to go away. Jon said that they should come to Brazil at least once a year. We're waiting, Jon.

Aug. 7th, 2010

But... What To Expect?

I was talking to a co-worker a couple of nights ago (yeah, blame overtime), and it suddenly hit me when she said, "well, we all have expectations, right?" Right? I don't know.

Years ago, when I was starting to learn about Eastern philosophy, one of the ideas that buggered me the most was the lack of expectations. Damn, I was 21 at the time, how could I not have any kind of expectations? I mean, how could anyone live without expectations?

Then, a friend of mine suggested that I tried to do that: eliminate all the expectations from my life. It was probably one of the hardest things I've ever done. We're fueled by expectation, not realizing that it's pointless. The fact that you expect something has no impact on whether it's going to happen or not. No impact whatsoever. Zero. Squat. So why do we keep worrying all the time?

Day by day, I tried hard to live life as it happened. It doesn't mean that I didn't have ambitions. It really doesn't mean that I didn't want things to happen - I did. I studied, because I wanted to be a psychologist. I worked, because I wanted to be able to pay for my own bills. And there came a time when I thought life was a little emptier without expectations, but it was something else. All the worrying was gone, giving space to fresh, new thoughts and ideas.

Let me give you a recent, dumb example: my father told me he sent me a gift through the mail a week ago. I could obsess over it. I could check the mailing service every day to see if it had arrived. What was it, anyway? Was it a pair of earrings? Or maybe a t-shirt? It has got to be a t-shirt, like the last one he sent me.

See? What a waste of time and energy. It arrived yesterday, and I completely freaked out because it's the most awesome handbag. Would I be happier if I had nurtured all that expectation? No. But I would be disappointed if I expected a t-shirt, and it was a necklace.

Maybe I'm suggesting that you give it a try. Even Van Wilder agrees with me - "Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you anywhere." And it robs precious time and energy.

Be at peace :)

Jun. 3rd, 2010

The first one we'll never forget...

How many corners do I have to turn?
How many times do I have to learn?
(The Verve)

This is a great day (or night) for this first post. I haven't done anything like a blog in years, so it will take some time to get used to it.

I've been dealing with this fanfic I'm writing for a long time now. It's probably 90% ready by now, but I'm always reading through it again, and re-writing it, 'cause it always seems like it could get better. If I keep that up, I'll never publish it - which is probably why I'm procrastinating so much :) But that's an issue for a whole other post.

So, a friend of mine made a few banners for that story. I said to myself that as soon as the banner was ready, I'd publish it. But... there was a problem with that banner, a "concept" issue, so to speak. I decided to make a change, and I thought, "well, here I am, making excuses again, to make up for my fear of publishing that story". To prove myself wrong, I went for it, and tried to make that banner all by myself. Now remember, this is coming from a psychologist who has never ever learned anything concerning Photoshop.

In spite of that, the internet was my guide, and I did a surprisingly good job, considering my reduced skills. So, there you go, I'm all out of excuses. Now, if you ask me why I didn't publish that damn fanfic yet, I'll say, "Honestly? I'm scared shitless."

Edit: it gets even better... I'm kinda proud of myself :)