Version 2.088

I woke up in a bit of a panic. I dreamt I was in Australia for a layover and also to meet a friend, who actually lives in Londons, but it's a dream and dreams don't make sense. We met at a building where there was a sculpture by a Spanish artist. She had a car, so I left a suitcase and a bag in it, but took my purse, except my purse did not have my cell phone, nor did it have my passport. I also did not have my tiny address book, where I keep the phone numbers and addresses for most people I care about; it's my analog back up, which hasn't been updated very regularly lately, but I usually carry it for peace of mind and to mail postcards sometimes.

My friend and I had an argument over the sculpture, as there were plans to move it to the bottom of a lake. She was very upset about it, but I kept rationalizing it. She left and after a while I open my purse and realize that nothing of use is there, yet I am supposed to fly out. I think I don't have any phone numbers for people who can help me and I also am probably not going to remember passwords to log into social media off the top of my head, so the best course of action is to go the police to see if they can help me catch my flight out. Then I realize that my work computer is in my luggage and I start to panic. I wake up.

Although everything is jumbled up, it all kind of makes sense, as this week I was explaining to someone that I have friends in Australia, who have asked me numerous times to visit them, but the thought of such a long flight is a huge turn off. I have also been thinking a lot about how Spain has had so many world class artists that were not only influential, but were innovators. Cervante's Don Quixote is considered the first novel ever written; Goya's The Disasters of War were depiction that almost resemble journalism, in which the artist presents war from the point of view of the victims. Then there's Velasquez, Picasso, Dalí, Miró, Gaudí...

Social critique are even present in today's Spanish artists. For example, Jaume Plensa's sculptures, which I have seen in permanent installation in Houston at Buffalo Bayou (the Tolerance sculptures) and Rice University (Mirror) and also in an exhibit in Memphis (Talking Continents), all of them spectacular. He has works in public places all over the world, but not in Portugal. Well, Greece, Poland, and Croatia also don't have any. The sad thing about Portugal is that I dare say that Joe Berardo has done more for the plastic arts than any government since the Republic began. We should all have some late afternoon drinks to his health, despite his unorthodox methods.

Anyway, the fight with my friend is probably a guilt complex because I have not checked on her since the beginning of the pandemic. I realize that the failure is mutual, but just a couple of days ago I was telling my counselor about my hyperactive conscience to which she replied "Yes, but look how far that has gotten you." 

When I am at work, I always get upset when I'm in the middle of something and the computer says it has to shut down. I realize that it gets backed up every day and that they have to push security patches, but if I were to lose it, I'd feel really bad about it, like I had been a total failure. And yet, I am sure that I would not be the first one to whom that would happen. Our mind sure works in mysterious ways.

I finished reading a rather worthless book today, but, what the hell, not everything can be Proust, which I likely should have read instead. Then Instagram reminded me that five years ago I was in Porto, Portugal, having scones and tea at Em Carne Viva--I love that place so much, even though scones have been eliminated from my repertoire. I still cannot imagine what I'll be able to eat for breakfast at a pastry shop if I ever visit. I suppose I'll be the weirdo eating suspiros and ovos moles. There is also ice-cream: I hope they still have epá.

Version 2.087

Today was probably the first day since my surgery that my mind has been mostly clear. I realized that I remembered very little of that day and made a mental note to ask my neighbor about it. Since she was throwing a party today, we spent some time going over the funny details of that day with the other guests. 

Per doctor's instructions, I had taken two pills to relax at 6 AM and our expected arrival at the office was 7:30 AM, so we left around 7. I managed to give directions to the office, but after we parked and the receptionist came to the car to get my information I started to not be all there and the last thing I remember before surgery was sitting on the chair--I had gum surgery.

After surgery, I remember that I was told to sit on a wheel chair and I looked at it and thought that I had never sat in a wheel chair. Then I was out again. I got in the car and remember that my neighbor was driving around very concerned and said "I need to find you a milkshake." I remember the chocolate milkshake, which I ate with a black plastic spoon to take a hydrocodone pill. After we arrived home, I just got in bed. My neighbor was about to trash the milk shake and I said "May I please finish milkshake?" and she gave it back, so I hurried eating it. 

One hour later, I am awoken by my panicked neighbor saying "Rita, your garage door is open. You need to take your antibiotics and ice your face." I got up, took the antibiotic, and got an ice pack. My neighbor left, I closed the garage door and went back to sleep. I just went from task to task like a robot, but I know I am a selfish sleeper: if I am sleepy, I don't care about anything other than sleeping. I woke up later that day and I prepared dinner, ate, took the dog out, and even wrote.

When I came to the U.S. people used to ask me in what language my dreams were. I never dream in a language, it is always visual. But my default language has been English since I started to become proficient. It was only after 2008, when I realized that I was losing Portuguese vocabulary that I started to force myself to think in Portuguese and, lately, I catch myself thinking in my mother tongue more often. Still, I find it amusing that during all this drug induced loss of consciousness, I always functioned in English. There was not even a slight hesitation.

The party was fun. I have never lived in a place in which I knew so many of the neighbors. My face still looks really terrible, with lots of yellow marks from bruising and still some swelling, plus I got some blisters on my lips probably from something I ate, which I am imagining was the baked potato soup, but I went without make up nonetheless. It is what it is.     

As I was leaving the party, I checked my phone and there was a message from my next door neighbor who is in New Jersey taking care of Covid-19 patients. She said she met an amazing man that she wants me to meet. It's the second guy that she wants me to date. How does she find time amid a pandemic to act all Cupid on me? And what it is about me that all my girlfriends want to find me a guy to date? I do fine on my own. If anything, I attract too many guys as is. Unless she found me a filthy rich drop-dead gorgeous guy, who speaks perfect English, likes art, travel, fancy restaurants, and is ravishing in bed, then I may be interested in giving him a test drive in a few months...

Version 2.086

I woke up first at 5 AM bright eyed and bushy tailed for absolutely no reason. It was still dark outside, so I popped some painkillers and off I went to dreamland for a second time. My subsequent awakening, around 9 AM, was not as grandiose, as I felt rather tired. It is very rare that I sleep this late. 

I had a message from my Portuguese-American friend letting me know that he had left the film "Capitães de Abril" in my mailbox, since I had let him know that my neighbor had given me an old TV in exchange for my push lawnmower, which I had originally offered to her. I replied and promised to watch it today, which I did. The point of view chosen is very much a David vs. Goliath story, which is very used in American films.

The highlight of my day, however, was a serendipitous conversation I had on Facebook regarding Helena Garrido and her coverage of Novo Banco's newest debacle. Maria Teresa Mónica wrote a post professing her admiration for Ms. Garrido and declaring that she is the best business journalist in Portugal. I wholeheartedly agree and commented declaring myself her number one fan to which MTM replied that that spot was hers. We agreed to a tie.

All over Instagram, this week, women have been posting black and white photos of themselves under the hashtag #challengeaccepted after being nominated by other women. I understand the concept, but it does very little for me. However, this spontaneous homage to Helena Garrido really hit the spot, not just because it is true that she is remarkable at her job, but also because she inspires women of different generations. And even a few men chimed in professing their admiration. If anyone who reads this knows Helena Garrido, please giver her our sincere admiration on my behalf and Maria Teresa Mónica's.

I learned a funny expression today, which I had never heard. While speaking to my counselor, she mentioned "stuck in the muck and mire," meaning "pessoas que não passam da cepa torta." I thought it was rather colorful and descriptive of the circumstances. Now I need to find a way to use it often.

Version 2.085

I just checked what is happening with the books I ordered from Bertrand and they are still stuck in Lisbon, as they have been for the last 10 days, under the watchful eye of CTT. Around the time that I ordered these books, I also ordered another one from Book Depository, which is coming from Australia. I haven't received that package either. I suppose the lack of international flights must be doing a number on the postal service, although Portuguese mail has never needed a pandemic to deliver subpar service. 

Much of the swelling on my face has dissipated and I would say I am 60% at normal proportions. I realized that I should have switched from ice to heat pads yesterday, but I am terrible with time and dates when I am normal, so I figure I must be even worse when I am under the influence of meds. I feel better also. Although I have been waking up early, I sleep 2-3 hours in the afternoon. 

Today was a busy day. One of my coworkers insisted that he needed to do something for me, so he brought me some food. I had tried to steer him away from soup, but he figured that potato soup would be safe. I wonder if they used wheat flour as a thickener since I got a red spot on my face after I had it. I checked the online menu and sure enough it does. Oh well, it wasn't too much. The best part was the sweet iced tea from McAllister's, which I had not had in over 10 years. It was half sweet and half unsweet, so just the right amount of sugar for a once in a decade experience. 

Another coworker wanted to do something for me, so I suggested she could visit. We stayed in the patio far away from each other and spoke for several hours. While I was entertaining, other friends were checking on me sending me instant messages. I feel like I am part of the United Nations, since my friends are from all over. Luckily, none of my personal friends from real life have had the virus, for which I am very grateful.

My neighbor, who is a docent at a local museum, is going to have a protegée, who she will be introducing to the team via a Zoom conference call. She was feeling uninspired regarding what to say and asked me for advice. I suggested the obvious, which is a few words regarding the person and their motivation for volunteering. Then she could also talk about how art is both a personal and a shared experience, particularly in the setting of a museum. Being a docent is a form of shaping the shared experience. 

Finally, I added that being a mentor is a way of experiencing art from another point of view and it is a very symbiotic relationship in which both parties and the patrons win. She seemed pleased with my suggestions; I was pleased that I remembered Mark Rothko's teachings.   

Version 2.084

I woke up with my face completely swollen. The right cheek was so big that partially obstructed my vision. My post-op instructions were that day three would be the heaviest swelling, but since the second day had been pretty bad, I did not consider it getting worse. I owe my mistake to the optimism with which I see my own abilities. But it is over now. Tomorrow, I start applying moist heat and things will continue progressing at their rhythm.

Since I am always a very good sleeper, I had not expected last night to be so difficult, so much so that I got up and even took a hydrocodone pill to see if it helped. I abhor opioids, as I have a phobia of becoming addicted, but desperate times, call for desperate measures. However, I did not feel any buzz or anything worth getting addicted to, thus I must conclude, as if there were any lingering doubts, that my body has a few "defects."

I spent part of my morning reading a very interesting piece in the Atlantic regarding the half-baked response of the United States to the Coronavirus pandemic. Although I am a bit turned off by the style, I tend to agree with the conclusion that the U.S. really did botch this one. Next time we elect a Republican President, we should all build a bunker just to be on the safe side. And make t-shirts with something funny like "third time we'll end the world for sure."

Anyway, it always strikes me as very interesting, when discussing these topics, that people talk about the U.S. and China, with some reference to Russia's old status as a super-power, but nothing is expected of the European Union. The E.U. used to have over one fourth of the world's GDP back in 2008 and in 2018 it was reduced to 18.6%, but considering the level of literacy, supposedly it should have some brain power, and yet it refuses to take up more responsibility for the world order. I don't get it.

The most interesting thing in the article is actually the part about artificial intelligence and how computers have gotten so deft at analyzing text in different languages. I am looking forward to the day when some very smart machine pours over all the Portuguese media and makes a report of the amount of deference to political power and lack of critical thought that gets published. Of course, when that happens, the political parties and the citizens are not going to come across very pretty. At least, history will finally be set straight.

Version 2.083

I first came to the U.S. almost 25 years ago, as an F-1 student. The classes did not seem too difficult, but the way students engaged with the professors and even schoolwork was completely different. Almost all the classes required some sort of research paper, when you'd go to the library, find the information and write about it. It was all a lot more creative. The teachers didn't tell you what to do and they mostly focused on how you should do it--form mattered a lot more than ideology. Anyway, I really enjoyed the process.

Then there was living in the U.S., having to manage money, working a part-time job, having friends from all over the world, many of whom I still keep in touch with. We also had to be involved in the community. I was Judicial Board Co-Chair and Co-President of the Diversity Group in my residential hall. All of us were extraordinarily different, and yet each of us contributed something to make it work as a community.

The older students served as mentors, people checked on each other, we'd borrow each other's computers, which back then were not as ubiquitous as now. When there was a holiday or a break, American students would invite the international students to go home and meet their families. And there was always something interesting going on: concerts at coffee shops, movie night, bar crawls, trips to the lake to watch shooting starts in October, or to go skinny dipping...

I cannot help but feel sadness for all the international students whose lives have been led astray by the pandemic, now that ICE has chosen to not allow international students to stay in the U.S. if their classes are online. Studying here is so much more that just having classes. It is truly finding yourself and becoming an adult. I hope these young people can get back to their lives soon.

Version 2.082

The whole day has been a blur, but I feel fairly well. I was not completely sleep during surgery, but I had taken some pills before to relax me, so I felt rather lethargic as we got to the office. Then I got IV sedation and the rest of the morning felt like a stream of going in and out of consciousness. On the way home, I got a milkshake from Wendy's. I never eat fast feed, so that was interesting.

I slept most of the afternoon. It feels like living in a bubble, with its own schedule and there is some comfort in feeling safe in your little bubble when you are not at your best. My doctor left me a voicemail at 6:30 PM to make sure I was feeling well and to call his cell phone should I need anything, while the office was closed.

The last painkillers I took were this morning, so I am debating whether to take more tonight. I suppose it would be important to take them so that the night goes by smoothly. I think I'll do just that.

Version 2.081

The other day I had an argument with a Portuguese friend. It is not often that I have arguments with my friends, so he should consider himself lucky that I care enough to argue. I don't even remember what got us started, but I remember how we overcame the argument. I wanted to know what he would do if he had lived during the dictatorship. Would he have been critical, would be just live his life and not raise much hell. He couldn't tell me what he would've done.

It is these questions that haunt me sometimes, but I would like to believe that I would not stay quiet and I would fight for what is right. It is not a question of us defending our rights; it is also a responsibility. Past generations have fought for our right to free speech, our right to receive an education, our right to vote, etc. None of these things were trivial and we should not take them for granted. But we should take what we were given and preserve it for others.

History repeats itself, but it does not repeat itself in exactly the same way. A few years from now, people will look at some of the current governments and will see new forms of authoritarianism. I hope someone will ask on which side of the fence people stood, in particular on days like today.

Version 2.080

There is a frog or toad outside begging for sex. I suspect that he wants to use the water fountains as a tadpole maternity without my permission. I hope he doesn't get laid, at least here, or I shall spend the rest of the pandemic taking care of tadpoles.

Apart from being very busy at work as I prepare to take some days off, I feel like nothing worthy of attention is going on in my life. Well, I can complain about the two books that I purchased online from Bertrand, which have been stuck in Lisbon, under the care of CTT, for the last 6 days, tracking number EE718633271PT. When did I purchase the books? Ah, that was July 3, but one had to be ordered from the publisher, so that delayed everything. At this point, I am wondering if they'll ever make it.

On July 6, I also bought a The Portrait of a Lady, via Bookdepository; that too has yet to arrive, but it's supposed to come all the way from Australia. It was dispatched on July 12, so maybe all my books will arrive at once. That would be interesting. But I hope the employees who are handling both orders are safe.

Version 2.079

It appears there are a lot of people in Portugal who are happy that PM Costa pimped up quite a bit of money from the EU to spend on the "recovery." This is not recovery: the money at stake is insufficient to cover the total losses for the economy, some of the money will have to be paid back, and, as has been evidenced in recent history multiple times, a big chunk of the money will be wasted in corrupt deals we will hear about 10 years from now.

Thousands of citizens will die, in the meantime, because the government has decided that the best course of action is to double down on the mistakes it has already made. Anyone who is not a moron should have realized that, at this point, the priority has to be to control the number of cases and deaths and that has to be done for real and not by cooking the numbers.

It's very easy to do:

1. make everyone wear a mask, just like everyone has to wear a seatbelt; stop with all the "you should wear a mask, but we can't make you wear a mask because we're not a dictatorship." It is a lie, you can force people to wear masks.
   
2. educate people on personal hygiene--wash your hands, don't touch your face
   
3. practice social distancing: reorganize public transportation, promote extended working schedules
   
   • people should work in shifts of six or five hours and allow businesses to stay open for two or three shifts, that helps with unemployment, but it also allows businesses to spread fixed costs over more hours, which should increase the number of visiting customers
     
   • the shorter working day would also be helpful for taking care of loved ones and children, as adults could rotate their schedules and allows for fewer people in public transportation at any given time
     
   • promote work from home arrangements if possible
     

You can't just state that the country can't handle confinement again expecting people to do the right thing on their own. There are plenty of nutty people outside of Portugal who can visit and spread infection or who can visit and take infection. The system is too porous and while the Portuguese government has the Portuguese media wrapped around its finger, not all of the international media is under control. Plus, there are plenty of foreign governments eager to reciprocate on the insults they receive from the Portuguese authorities.

Furthermore, it delays the recovery because Portugal will be put under travel restrictions as it has happened before. How many times can you make the same mistake before you realize that "Geez, that was stupid!"

Version 2.078

Today, I finished watching "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" for the second time. I had seen it before, but had completely forgotten about it, so much so that upon reading the synopsis, I still had no idea. It felt like I had never seen it and, yet, I knew that I had. Anyway, I refreshed my memory and it felt like it was a very adequate film for our current travails.

There is a scene in which the main character is at a party after the war is over and she feels disoriented, given the stark contrast between life during war and life after war. When the pandemic started, I spoke to someone who was telling me that he did not know how we would rebound. I replied that we are wired to overcome adversity; if we weren't we would not have made it as a species, case in point childbirth.

The way things are progressing is a lot more dire than I had hoped. When the weather changes and winter bugs are out in full force, many of us will be fighting for our lives. I just don't see how we can avoid it. Even with the vaccine, there will be those who will refuse to take and it certainly will not be effective for all. I always had my vaccines on time and I ended up getting several of the diseases covered: measles, chickenpox, rubella. The one thing I don't usually get is the flu, but I am a bit obsessive-compulsive about not touching door handles and other things many people touch.

But we still have months to go, which reminds me that I need to read Robert Frost...

Version 2.077

I should have been in bed by now, as I set the alarm clock for 5:30 AM, but I remembered that there is a comet visiting us, so I drove to Shelby Farms to try to see it. You can hardly see any stars due to all the light pollution from the city. It is depressing.

My friends and I had talked about taking a trip to Marfa, TX, this fall for our annual get-together. Besides all the art, one of the activities of interest was to see the Milky Way. The trip ended up being set aside because it was too far for some of them, but, still, I would like to go. Maybe with a smaller group.

Next spring, it will be the 25th anniversary that I went to the Grand Canyon on a road trip and then we decided to also go to Las Vegas. I have never seen so many stars as I saw on that trip crossing the Arizona desert. I would like to go again, but everything is so uncertain. I don't even know if I will be alive. Anyway, that's probably too depressing to be thinking about it now, right before going to bed.

I made peach cobbler again today. It is the third time that I have done it this summer. I had never done it before, but it is quite gratifying. I let the peaches soak in sugar, lemon juice, and cinnamon and I realized that, for me, that's how summer tastes like: peaches and lemon.

The next few days will be a bit hectic, as I will be taking next week off to recover from my surgery on Friday. I need to plan ahead the food that I will be eating and cook it beforehand. I hope I will be able to continue writing. The last time I started a daily journal, I ended up getting very sick with some sort of food poisoning and that got me off track.

Reading and writing, that's what I am planning on doing for therapy. I shall leave the arithmetic for The Sundays and for when I return to work.

Version 2.076

For the second day in a row, the United States had more than 70 thousand new cases of Covid-19. In Nueces County, in Texas, 85 children younger than one year old tested positive. On one hand, it is completely insane and had to comprehend the magnitude of the disaster; on the other hand, after all we have been through, we know enough to make informed decisions, thus there has to be personal responsibility. It is survival of the fittest after all.

I stayed mostly home, but I stopped by the frame store to pick up some art work that I had left to be framed. Alas, not everything was finished, even though the receipt indicated that it should have been done by 7/13. It is rare that something like this is late, but now with the pandemic we must be understanding.

During the day, I tried to read, but I did not get very far in my stack of books.Outside it was really hot and it became uncomfortable to stand even in the shade. This evening, I spent almost two hours speaking Portugal on the phone with a friend. It had been a while since I exercised my tongue. I did OK and I don't recall forgetting vocabulary, but I must be vigilant. I'm falling asleep now, so the trouble is keeping up with the English.

Version 2.075

A bit over an hour ago, it was announced that Representative John Lewis, an icon of the Civil Rights movement, has died at 80 years old. This week, we also learned that Ruth Bader Ginsburg is battling cancer again, but she continues serving on the Supreme Court, while on chemotherapy.

One of my neighbors has a sign on her lawn with the text of the First Amendment and I thought it worthy to take a photo and post it on Instagram. A Portuguese friend of mine commented on that photo that the Founding Fathers were very wise, but where were their political offspring today. If one reads American history, two things transpire: (1) it is not as pretty as some people think, and (2) some people are good, others are bad.

Today, we still have people that are willing to sacrifice their life and livelihood for the common good. There are always people who rise to the occasion.

Version 2.074

"A tua fama longe sua e mais depressa a má do que a boa." That's one of the Portuguese sayings that I used to collect, writing them down in a notebook, which I started in eighth grade. I am often reminded of the sayings, as they are cautionary tales, almost, although some are contradictory. But this one is appropriate today, as an American friend told me about something that he heard from a Portuguese friend. His Portuguese friend has a wife that works at a company that received government support because of Covid-19; however, her boss has not paid her a salary for about three months.

I told my friend that it would be very easy for the Portuguese government to find wrongdoing in the disbursement of Covid-19 aid, as they could cross-check the names of the companies that received aid with the employee income taxes that the company reports to the government, but I suppose such is not being done. I am a slightly annoyed that the Ministry of Finance finds the resources to harass me for money I do not owe and, yet, does not give a flick about tax evasion of people who actually owe money and also commit fraud.

There was a funny picture on Facebook today. Apparently, a Portuguese minister was inaugurating some recycling bins. Someone needs to call Donald Trump and make that suggestion. I am certain he'd be all over it.