Ana Pires 2.0

Sleeping what?

My sleeping “patterns”, let’s call it that, have been going a bit crazy again. To prevent further arguments with my mother about the sleeping pills Diazepam I sometimes take, I decided to conscientiously change the said patterns themselves. I now sleep during the day and do my things during the night. It’s been going on for a couple of weeks now and I have to say I don’t dislike it.

In the morning I’m already really tired and it’s hard to be attentive and focused on classes. I have to leave the house at either 7 or 9AM, depending on the days, and get home everyday at 3PM, so it’s rough to stay awake and not doze off  in the meantime. That’s not good, obviously. But then again, if I can’t sleep at night and take a few Diazepams, while getting some sleep at the right time, the outcome is the same. I’ll still be sleepy and zombie-like. So why not take the time and do something useful, leaving the sleep to when I’m actually tired?

I’ve been falling asleep after lunch, at around 4PM. I just lay down my head and I’m out, almost immediately, and for quite a while too (managed more than 5 hours of sleep today). And that’s not entirely bad either, in more than one way. “I just lay down my head and I’m out, almost immediately”, do you know what that feels like for a chronic insomniac? And also, I get to miss all the commotion and stress - meaning people - of the day, which leads me to: peace. 

The only noise I hear right now is the computer, the fan and my cat’s purr. Everyone’s asleep, neighbors included, no cars or people outside. It’s the perfect environment to do whatever you feel like doing. Okay, so I can’t really exercise (too much noise from the stationary bicycle for the neighbors), but other than that, night time is perfect to work. There’s virtually no noise or interruptions or distractions or anything.

There’s yet another problem related to this, but I think I’ll take care of it only when I have to. What about when you have to be awake during the actual day? I happen to have a nice schedule this semester and get home everyday at 3PM, but what about family lunches or dinners or going out with friends? I doubt I can keep the same schedule forever, and my family or friends probably don’t want to stop by during night… Again, I’ll leave that problem to when it comes to me and I have to deal with it. For now, I want to see how it goes and how I can keep it.

It’s half past three now, and I’m feeling very productive here. I know I won’t feel that way once it’s eight in the morning and I’m on my first class, but I’ll survive (there’s always at least one coffee machine around). Now, it’s study time again.

Being eight years older than me, my brother had a computer before I did, naturally. It was an Amiga 1200 from Commodore.

Of course he did some work, but in all truth, the Amiga was mostly about games. And how I loved to watch him play. Looking back now, I’m sure it was quite annoying for him, but the magic of that little box (gigantic in today’s standards) was just hypnotizing for me.

When I was around 7 years old, he got another computer, a PC with Windows. Since I had already learned how to read and write, my brother decided to teach me how to work on the Amiga and how to play some games. Not because I nagged him almost to death, he just decided it was nice. Yes, anyway.

At first, the only types of games I could play were Galaga and Arakanoid styled ones, and my English consisted of the words “play”, “load”, “save” and “quit”.

As time went by though, I started playing games like SimCity and the Monkey Island Series. Games that actually needed you to understand the language they were in. It was with that computer that I really started learning English. It’s one thing to listen to cartoons on TV. Actually having to read and write and understand a language, for the sole purpose of having fun, works completely different. My grammar was far from perfect, obviously, and I’m sure I was quite a pain for my brother, always asking questions. But then again, look at where I am now (University, Portuguese/English “Languages, Literatures and Cultures” course).

At a certain point, I was completely addicted to all the games we had - and they weren’t exactly just a few… My mother would even have to yell at me so I’d get off the computer to go to the bathroom. There were just so many of them and they were all so exciting, I never felt like stopping. If I got bored with one, I’d just pick another one up. Those were the days.

I never really got the same excitement with the games that exist now as I did with the ones from Amiga. The new SimCities are great and beautifully made, I wouldn’t trade my Final Fantasies for anything, and there are also the online games. But still, it’s different. Every time I thought of the wonderful times I had in front of that great machine, I felt nostalgic and sad.

Our Amiga is now put away. The monitor had to be thrown out, because we’d get an electric shock every time we tried to turn it on (it was that old), but the rest of the computer is carefully wrapped in plastic bags and old cloths, kept safely in my room.

I tried looking for emulators and getting them to work with the games I missed the most, but I never really managed to succeed. They were all too complicated and I would almost always end up with a new virus on my Windows. It’s only now, with my iBook, that I’ve finally been able to play the old Amiga games, using DOSBox and MacMame.

Do you remember Bubble Bobble? And Alley Cat? And Cannon Fodder, Fury of the Furries, RoboCod, the Dizzy series, Beneath a Steel Sky, Dune, SuperFrog, Alien Breed, the first SimCity, Lemmings?

The excitement, it’s still there!

I still feel like I’m missing a lot, and every week I end up remembering another one and getting it. My DOSBox folder just keeps growing and growing. My latest addition was the way-too-cute and addictive-all-over-again Rainbow Islands. And there are still some I haven’t been able to find, like Fire and Ice and Wiz’n'Liz and even the extremely well done Agony for example.

You can seriously have no idea or understand my happiness if you’ve never played any of these old games. You’re not too late, you can still give them a try.

I feel like that was the beginning of gaming, and that I’m very lucky to have been able to witness and live through it. When I’m really old, I’ll get to tell my grandchildren about these ancient games I used to play that no longer exist… Anyway, I’m getting addicted all over again. You can certainly expect more of these posts from me, because I’m honestly going crazy here.

I’m just going to have another go at- is it four in the morning already?

Today marks the 34th anniversary of the Portuguese Carnation Revolution, where we became free of our dictator. As always, there are big parties going on, and I just came from one, the first of this special day, began exactly at midnight.

I almost didn’t make it. I was supposed to go with some friends, but ended up going with my mother. Don’t ask me how that happened, it just did.

When we got there, there were people everywhere. By the river specially, from where the fireworks get fired up. You couldn’t get anywhere near it. So we waited in a big park nearby to watch the show.

Near that park, there was a stage put up for the event, where loud speakers playing typical songs of the 25th of April Revolution were. The most famous ones got everyone singing along, which was really beautiful and warm. It was special.

And the fireworks, those were wonderfully synchronized with the musics that were playing. It’s the first time they’ve done it too, at least since I can remember. And it turned out great. The blasts and the explosions of color were almost perfectly synchronized with the different rhythms of the songs.

I loved one special detail in particular. When Grândola Vila Morena was playing, the song that started the Revolution itself, all the fireworks launched were red, like the carnations used to replace the weapons. That was the one people sang along more as well. Did I mention it was special? It really was. (listen in boomp3.com)

The whole event was extremely innovative and creative, and it turned out perfect. To think I almost missed it.
Happy Liberty Day!

Is there a nobler aspiration that the desire to be free? It is by his freedom that a man knows himself, by his sovereignty over his own life that a man measures himself. To violate that freedom, to flout that sovereignty, is to deny man the right to live his life, to take responsibility for himself with dignity. [...] To strip man of his freedom is not to believe in man.

Elie Wiesel, From the Kingdom of Memory

I’ve been going on and on about Coca-Cola Zero for a while now. I only recently discovered it, and ever since then… At the exam period on University’s first semester, I was drinking it like water. I’m kind of surprised about the little excitement there is about it though.

I abruptly stopped every single unhealthy food and beverage I used to take when I started losing weight. Like french fries, for example, we don’t make them in this house anymore. If I have them, it’s because it’s a special day and we’re eating out. Crackers, my mother insists on having them, but I don’t even get near the cupboard where they are.

I also cut off most things that were heavy in calories. Not that they were unhealthy things, they were just something that was adding up to my calorie count at the end of the day when I was trying to lose weight. Bread and pasta, for example - both now again a part of my diet.

With all of this considered, Coca-Cola was absolutely prohibited. It was both unhealthy, since it was all sugar, and heavy in calories. But then, Coca-Cola Zero appeared.

Zero calories, sure. Of course I didn’t believe it, it was probably like all those other “diet” products, 10 calories lighter than then the original product - which meant it was still too much. But still. I started doing some research about it. After reading enough and finally believing the number of calories it had, I decided to give it a try. It probably tasted horrible anyway.

But it didn’t. It tasted exactly like the Coca-Cola Classic - from what I could remember at least, since I hadn’t had that in a while. It was sweet and fresh and bubbly… And - best thing yet - the caffeine was the same. Considering that caffeine actually speeds up you metabolism, Coca-Cola Zero can actually help you either lose or maintain your weight.

And so I really can’t believe the little attention it has been getting. It’s just like the regular Coca-Cola which has 140 calories per can and is all sugar, except it has 0.7 calories per can and it’s all sweeteners and caffeine. 140 calories is the equivalent to two apples, maybe even more depending on their size. Now, 0.7 calories, do you realize what that is? Okay, imagine a Tic-Tac and then cut it in half. That’s one calorie right there. A can of Coca-Cola Zero has less calories than half a Tic-Tac. What is there not to love and be excited about?

It’s still not an healthy drink, so of course you shouldn’t have too much of it. But if you feel like something sweet and fresh, or if you’re tired and need that special rush… well, it’s the healthy choice between all the unhealthy choices I guess.

If you haven’t tried it, go ahead and do it, you’ll love it! If you’re like certain acquaintances of mine and don’t like it though, then there’s something wrong with either you or your taste buds. Sorry.

After being to the movies to watch things like 10.000 AC or The Bucket List, I was feeling like it was time for something different, a horror movie. The last one of the kind I had watched was Cloverfield, and even that couldn’t really be called an horror movie (although I loved it and went to watch it three times).

So I decided it was time for a serious, scary, horror movie. This one called [REC] caught my attention. It was definitely a horror movie, and the filming technique was supposed to be similar to Cloverfield’s, meaning first person, shaky camera kind of thing. That was one of my favorite things about Cloverfield, because it made it so realistic and believable.

Because for a movie to be enjoyable, you kind of have to let yourself believe it could be true - or that it is true - at that precise moment at least. And with all genres, really, not just horror. Love stories, for example, wouldn’t be very romantic if you didn’t allow yourself to believe they could happen or did happen to someone, would they? Well, moving on, the amazing thing about Cloverfield was that you didn’t really have to do much to make yourself believe. The movie and the way it was done was so plausible, it would just become your reality right away.

This [REC] movie seemed to be good from what I’d seen. I didn’t watch any teaser or trailer, and even now that I have, they really don’t do the movie any justice. I just read a few small introductions and reviews from the movie theater’s website, googled some images and that was it.

Well, I’ll start by saying I left the cinema feeling really tired. I’m guessing it was because of how fast my heart was racing.

I knew it would be an horror movie, that’s what I wanted. But I don’t know, maybe I’m just too impressionable. I squeaked and squirmed like a little girl and looked away from the screen at certain times. And when I left the movie theater, I was just done for the day.

So, this Spanish movie was about a TV crew that made little reports at night on things that go on when most people are asleep. This specific issue of the said program was about firefighters. The first part is pretty much calm and introductory: there are quick interviews on firemen, there’s a guided tour, some amusing parts. And then, the alarm goes off.

We find out that an old lady was in need of help in her apartment, that her neighbors heard her screaming and decided to call for help. The TV crew, which was actually just a woman named Angela and her cameraman, went along with the firemen in their trucks.

At the building, the police were already present and all the neighbors were very nervous. A policeman and a couple of firemen went up, together with Angela and her cameraman (from which we see what’s happening) and enter the lady’s home.

Long story short: the woman attacks the policeman, by biting his face and ripping out a piece of flesh. The bleeding man is taken downstairs and assisted by the others. At this time, we realize the entire building was put on quarantine, and we know nothing of what’s happening. Only that people are randomly going crazy and biting and eating everyone else.

I won’t tell you what caused the behaviors, and specially, I won’t tell you the ending, only that is was extremely creepy. The entire movie ended up being so much more than what I expected. If you’re into the sort of thing, go ahead and watch it, it’ll be worth it. If you think you might not take it in well or have nightmares, go see it as well. You’ll get an amazing kick out of all the adrenaline.

I have to say this again though, the trailer is really light compared to the actual movie. If you wish, go google up some scenes.

*munch*

I wrote a post once, ranting about people who approach you on the middle of the street to try to sell you something. Heck, I’ve had my palm read by a gypsy woman who told me I had to give her money so that she could light a candle for me. Since I was coursed and all that, you know.

So yes, I’ve had very random encounters with very random people. I have to say though, today’s has been the one that left me in the most WTF state.

I don’t want you to think I don’t like to be talked to at all on the street. I have no problems helping someone who needs directions or something similar. I’m usually very happy to help. It makes me feel… well, helpful. That’s how this all started.

At the train station, an old woman walked over to me and my friend Sara and started immediately by apologizing for the inconvenience, but that she would be very grateful if we didn’t mind helping her out on something. You see, she couldn’t read or write, and was very unsure of which train to get on. After asking where she wanted to go, we told her which one it was she had to take and at what time it would get there.

We were obviously pleased to help. Such a nice, polite and humble lady.

But then. She started rambling. And I do mean rambling. We found out that she was a widow, that her husband died in an accident, that she was left with four children to raise and care for, that one of her sons was a mechanic and the other one a heavy-vehicle driver, that she had two granddaughters, that one of them was really heavy and the other one was really skinny, that she had surgery to remove her uterus and ovaries, that her knees hurt (and at this point she raised her skirt and showed us her knees), that she had some family where she was taking the train to, that she liked Amália Rodrigues’ music…

I’m not kidding or making any of this up. The woman really did tell us all of those things, I have my friend to confirm it! We would sometimes glance at each other as to ask “WTF”, but it did no good. She just kept going on and on and we couldn’t find a way to interrupt her without seeming rude. 

I was a bit scared at a certain point. She kept coming closer to us and invading that invisible personal space everyone likes to have. I tightened my grip and held my bag closer to me, just in case. You hear all those stories where someone distracts you on the street by asking you for directions or even just for the time, and then someone else - an accomplice - runs by, pushes you and steals your belongings. Or even worse. She was just an old lady, but the entire situation and herself did not seem normal, at all.

Eventually, we managed to cut her off. Once we started speaking, we didn’t stop. If we did, we’d be giving her a chance to start talking again. It was quite funny actually. “Now you wait here and at 14:04 that white and blue train is going to arrive and all you have to do is get on it because now we have to go do something at the ticket booth and we have to go, have a nice day, you’re welcome, good day, yeah we really have to go, bye”.

I really don’t like to be rude or mean, but after we vomited all those words and conjoint sentences, we ran off. We literally ran off. We ran through the escalator, stopped for a bit to laugh, and then we went up again onto the platform, as far away as possible from where we met the woman of course.

I kind of felt bad afterwards. She said she couldn’t read or write. Maybe she was just really nervous and scared about getting on the wrong train. Maybe she wanted to keep us there so we told her the exact one she had to take.

But still. Her uterus and her ovaries? Her knees? And why did she have to raise her skirt and show them to us? I don’t care how sociable and outgoing you are, you don’t just tell random strangers your life story and show them your legs on a train station. Or anywhere. You don’t do that, period!

Sara and I laughed ourselves silly the entire way home, but that was definitely one of the most random and WTF moments I’ve had so far. I’m glad I had her with me, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I were alone and an old woman flashed herself to me like that.

In English class yesterday, we were discussing England and what we thought off the British people. We all talked about it for a while, and all conclusions were referring to stereotypes, but it was a good discussion nonetheless.

My impression of Britain and of British people used to be very stereotypical. I used to watch a lot of television growing up and one of my favorite channels (together with Cartoon Network, I admit) was BBCPrime. I just loved it! Anne Robinson with her “You are the weakest link, goodbye”, Trinny and Susannah and their straightforwardness, those auction shows where people would sometimes sell ridiculous things for ridiculously high prices, the animal shows, I even watched Eastenders for a while.

But then my most favorite one ever, Keeping up Appearances.

Keeping up Appearances is a British sitcom about Hyacinth Bucket (it’s pronounced Bouquet, mind you). She’s a very snobby housewife who likes to pretend to be more aristocratic than she is, spending most of her time maintaining her perfect house (always warning visitors not to brush up against her walls) and trying to impress other people.

There was a Portuguese version as well, very well made in my opinion. It was translated as Cuidado Com As Aparências and the main character was called Jacinta Bimbo - pronounced Bimbô. Just like Hyacinth, Jacinta would have her last name mispronounced all the time, and she would get very upset about it. The original version was obviously better, but I still watched both.

I honestly don’t know why I liked it so much. It was cute and funny, but there were definitely better and different sitcoms I could relate to more. But I don’t know, I used to find it hilarious and laugh myself silly every time it was on. Anyway, it’s not like I still watch it everyday at 17:30 or at 21:30 on BBCPrime anymore…

Yes, right, moving on. The English class. For a very long time, that was how I though all British people were. Now that I have a different perception of things, I’m glad they’re not. But I can’t help to love Hyacinth. She’s so unbearably cute!

And when I can afford it…

…equals me laughing myself silly.

First things first. The LOLCats. A Lolcat is an image combining a photograph of an animal, most frequently a cat, with a humorous and idiosyncratic caption in broken English referred to as Kitty Pidgin, or lolspeak (wikipedia). If you’re not familiar with any of this, visit the I Can Has Cheezburger Blog for plenty of lulz.

Moving on. Some people, as myself, find the lolcats and their lolspeak very witty and just plain hilarious. Quite a few of my acquaintances think it’s just stupid though. Well, this isn’t their blog, is it?

I visit all the lolcat blogs on a regular basis, and I really have lots of genuine fun with them. I only recently found out about this LOLBible though. And my question is, how on earth could I have missed such a thing?! And it has been around since July 2007?! How?!

After recovering from this fail… On reading the first page, the intention of all of this is to translate and modify the Christian bible, in order to make it a lolcat bible. Except for the plot, everything is changed, the writing, the seriousness and, specially, the characters. The description and explanation alone is funny and got me giggling, and since it’s obviously not intended to be offensive or anything, I moved on.

From Genesis 1, right at the beginning:

At start, no has lyte. An Ceiling Cat sayz, i can haz lite? An lite wuz.

I understand this might seem incredibly stupid for anyone who doesn’t have a sense of humo- I mean, for anyone who doesn’t enjoy the lolcat culture, but this small quote caught me so off guard, I even cried because of the laughing. It’s six in the morning now and even after a sleepless night, I’m trying not to laugh too loud at this.

From Genesis 3:

An teh man said, teh woman u gave me saw teh tree An told ’bout it to me. At first I was liek “Noes!” but then, I was layk NOM NOM NOM.

So there. After finding a religion to my liking a while back, I have finally found another one worthy of mentioning. And I just remembered… About my rant on people who approach you on the street because of anything/everything? Well, I now know how to respond to the religious kind of approach.

May Ceiling Cat be with you. Ktkx.