<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:20:10.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>:: Weber In America ::</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>138</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-5306564922483768931</id><published>2008-07-18T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T20:16:52.607-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TLC</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(sobbing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am worry about mommy...&lt;br /&gt;- Don't worry, baby...&lt;br /&gt;- It's daaaark...&lt;br /&gt;- You don't need to worry about her, she's the one that worries about you!&lt;br /&gt;- I AM worried about mommy!! She's alone...&lt;br /&gt;- She will be fine, she can take care of herself. She's a big girl!&lt;br /&gt;- But she still needs &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;care&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;- ... yes, she does...&lt;br /&gt;- No matter if you are big! Everyone needs care!&lt;br /&gt;- That's right...&lt;br /&gt;- And also who needs it is me...&lt;br /&gt;- That's why we are all here for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-5306564922483768931?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/5306564922483768931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=5306564922483768931&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5306564922483768931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5306564922483768931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/07/tlc.html' title='TLC'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-10659397059408915</id><published>2008-06-28T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T21:25:37.374-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We looked like giants</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I have no idea of how many minutes were wasted. But it's pretty clear I won't get them back. More than just minutes, I long for everything I could have done while they passed, the memories that I would like to have right now. But instead of memories, they are dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I long for the experiences I wish I had lived while those minutes rushed on a nearby clock, experiences that would mold me into someone completely different, smarter, wiser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss some things I end up never doing, and I'll never have an opportunity anymore. Never had it, never will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss intense first looks, measurement, assessment of height, length and depth of the one I'd be soon falling on an intense crush, that would get me out off my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss the first touch, heating me up on the inside, while a fresh breeze of his breath on my ear would try to cool it off, in vain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss first kisses. People are so desperate to get inside each other that they go back to their first fixation: by the mouth, it all begins. Our first contact with another, our first contact with pleasure. Hot, wet, quick, messy... we would be hidden somewhere, in the dark, powered by rush, adrenaline, hormones, letting it all fly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I miss learning how our bodies work, with an exploratory trip into each other, a silly and simple game, and clumsy attempts that would make us burst into laughter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss summer loves, summer lovers, summer kisses,  holding hands and laying around talking, or saying nothing at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss stupid fights, and heart breaks that would become easier to heal with time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss extreme intimacy, and, even for a while, get to know someone deeply.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss having someone to call when I'm down, with no shame of letting my feelings take control for a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss having someone that drives me crazy, in the bad AND good way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss being in love, down on all fours, with someone feeling the same as me. Even if it was for a couple of weeks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I can't have this anymore... the clock has ticked away, the alarm rang, I woke up. There no time for going easy anymore. Things get serious as we grow. People get practical, impatient. There are unspoken rules and each date you gotta go further. Third date kiss, fifth date sex. You need to worry now. Birth control, what day was it suppose to come, I'll open my eyes and it will be minus... You need to analyze now. How much does he gets, what does he do, is he even single. It's not silly, it's not a game, it's not simple. And even kids stopped going go easy these days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's too late, and I didn't learn. And no book can help me now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="80" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/Lep_WFgN4V/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/Lep_WFgN4V/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/riveriswildd/music/5oTuRQ07/death_cab_for_cutie_we_looked_like_giants/"&gt;We Looked Like Giants - Death Cab for Cutie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Ben Gibbard tem mó vibe de gordinho pega-nínguem, mas como eu descobri, ele não é gordinho - ou não é mais -, e pelas coisas que ele canta, tá longe de ser pega-nínguem...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-10659397059408915?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/10659397059408915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=10659397059408915&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/10659397059408915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/10659397059408915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/06/we-looked-like-giants.html' title='We looked like giants'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7363299903196815613</id><published>2008-06-24T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T18:36:23.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheetos Orfeu de Campers</title><content type='html'>Como CEO da MonkeyBusiness® Inc., empresa especializada na contratação de primatas, eu preciso dar o exemplo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Galera, é assim que se faz:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PewfeTn7GJs&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PewfeTn7GJs&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem aguentar isso até o final ganha um ano de assinatura do cartão MonkeyBusiness® Inc. sem pagar anuidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Daiana já tem o dela!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/SGGg5aZTH8I/AAAAAAAAJzM/rLCCGLlUaJM/s1600-h/monkey+card.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/SGGg5aZTH8I/AAAAAAAAJzM/rLCCGLlUaJM/s400/monkey+card.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215626751670165442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aceito em todas as lojas. Tem coisas que só a Weber faz por você!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7363299903196815613?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7363299903196815613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7363299903196815613&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7363299903196815613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7363299903196815613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/06/cheetos-orfeu-de-campers.html' title='Cheetos Orfeu de Campers'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/SGGg5aZTH8I/AAAAAAAAJzM/rLCCGLlUaJM/s72-c/monkey+card.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2523472167002807259</id><published>2008-06-23T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T22:10:29.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bittersweet home</title><content type='html'>I just spent a couple of hours searching for a nice camera to buy. Nice, but with a nice price, 'cause I'm on a budget. Professional are my dream, but let's get real... I read and read and read professional and consumer reviews, looked at other people pictures to asses the quality, got over a zillion of specifications, pondered over the pros and cons, bugged Martha about it until she could not understand a thing anymore. I finally got my mind set on one. Simple, solid, good, safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I could not click on "Submit Your Order".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I'm kinda cheap. I don't like spending money at all. I guess I was still waiting for something to reassure myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to leave the page open and go take a bath, go to sleep over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I started to fear the airport customs people when I come back to Brazil. What if they get me? Maybe they'll think the camera is much more expensive than it is. But if they get me, no matter what they'll think, I'll be busted...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right after that, another thought came through my head. Something that scared me so much. It's something I'm always saying, but it was like the idea had just sunken in... Am I aware of the place I'm coming back too? I do know, right? I do know that place very well. Well enough to start anticipating the fear of walking around with the camera, or even when going by car. Bus, forget it. Where should I take it? On which occasions? What if someone sees me with it, then tells somebody that tells somebody that decides to break into my house? What if, when robbing my camera, the person also decides to, I don't know, kill me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or even if I manage to forget about getting the camera... While I'm here, I bought Nike shoes. Can I walk around with them? At least I managed to unglue the Nike logo of the left shoe, half of it still is on the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I bought Tommy Hillfinger shoes for 20 dollars at Ross. They are abnormally white. Can I use them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still remember where I live. It's a place full of idle people that envy other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those thoughts scared me so much. What can I do with this fear? I'm not the kind of person that lets the fear of being robbed take over, but maybe because I never experienced that. Right now, the scenes I could somehow project in my mind seemed real enough to strike me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And still, I'm coming back. I don't want to stay, I never wanted to stay. I was ready to face my city's situation with the chin up, because, although it is a messy, crazy, violent, dirty, unsafe home, it is home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to know why I wanted another camera? Well, for one thing, I love photography. But above all, I wished to have a camera that could do this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/SGCBpl3mAGI/AAAAAAAAJzE/H4lTPb_sAQ8/s1600-h/4ff4810ae7a0aa31e903a110.L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/SGCBpl3mAGI/AAAAAAAAJzE/H4lTPb_sAQ8/s400/4ff4810ae7a0aa31e903a110.L.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215310920034943074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:-(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2523472167002807259?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2523472167002807259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2523472167002807259&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2523472167002807259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2523472167002807259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/06/bittersweet-home.html' title='bittersweet home'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/SGCBpl3mAGI/AAAAAAAAJzE/H4lTPb_sAQ8/s72-c/4ff4810ae7a0aa31e903a110.L.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2782404319275245736</id><published>2008-06-19T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T20:12:18.202-07:00</updated><title type='text'>why so rude?</title><content type='html'>the need for ice-cream is not enough to make me go down the stairs... I just tried, but I do-not-want-to-see-anyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me emo but I HATE being misunderstood... always did, always could not handle when people get me all wrong. And it happened quite a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it me? I don't express myself correctly? Or is it because some people are not sensible enough to notice anything that touches the helm of the subjective, ethereal, FEELINGS for crying out loud!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired of not having anyone trying to understand me. Feels like I'm not interesting at all. Just... someone who's obviously over-reacting and/or being dramatic and/or being unreasonable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that happens because people in this world are so used to not getting love for free... they just cannot see it or feeling and it comes to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always make fun of Mr. Bush, but I think that in his stupidness he created a great new word. One more time, they &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;misunderestimated&lt;/span&gt; me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MjeoXDHpH_c&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MjeoXDHpH_c&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2782404319275245736?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2782404319275245736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2782404319275245736&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2782404319275245736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2782404319275245736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/06/why-so-rude.html' title='why so rude?'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6101950975249887322</id><published>2008-06-17T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T18:43:46.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>if I could open my mouth... (part 1)</title><content type='html'>I haven't been here for a while... mostly 'cause I've been busy for a change...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tornado brought very &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;VERY hot weather&lt;/span&gt;. And Greg left me and Mason without a/c. I mean, and I can't event turn the thing on. I could just open every window, turn on the fans and feed ice cubes to Mason all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That following Friday, I met April at Rosslyn station so we could go to the&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Rilo Kiley&lt;/span&gt; concert at the 930 Club. She was staying at Georgetown with some friends for a conference, and we ended up going back and fourth meeting them, go up the room, go down, wait for bus, get down, they wanted to eat, and they couldn't decide where to eat, doors opened at 8 and at 9 o'clock I got up, smiled and say we had to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out I'm the most patient, nice and foolish person in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that now I need to think twice before complaining about Martha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concert was very fine after all. It took a long time to start tough. Those boring "friends of Rilo Kiley" playing country music almost killed the mood. Rilo Kiley sound better live for sure. You could swear Jenny Lewis is the best singer around. And her performance is flawless, emotional, beautiful. She is very cute and nice, and Blake is mighty cute too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They played "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dreamworld&lt;/span&gt;" but nobody showed excitement! I of course sang, so happy! I wish everyone liked that song too... But I should have quit on the people around here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I got back to my guitar lessons, but walking out of the house was a bigger strain I thought I'd be it was so completely hot... more than 100 degrees Fahrenheit, 40 celsius... The car was burning, I was melting, I just wanted to lay down and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;collapse&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg was coming back, just then the weather changed and it was not that hot. But I was crabby and feeling terrible and sticky. I complained a lot. The minute he got in he turned the a/c on... thank God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Mason was very excited to see him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6DZXYjLnqBc&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6DZXYjLnqBc&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I watched "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kung Fu Panda&lt;/span&gt;" with the indian neighbor. The movie is soooooooooooo bodacious (watch it and you'll' get it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday it was the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Death Cab for Cutie&lt;/span&gt; concert. I picked Martha up with the directions. But I forgot the one with the way back. She said it wasn't necessary, and as we were very late already, I let it go... I wanted someone to come with me to help me drive there, because I know how nervous I can get. And I took... Martha! Well, it was by default.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started by talking on the phone for a long time with the windows closed so she could hear and you can't imagine how hot it was. Other than that we made it to Merriweather Post Pavillion and she drove away to the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was kinda sad going to the concert alone. No one else was alone. And yeah, I felt like on an american all-cities high school reunion! I didn't know, but my ticket was for the floor space, right in front of the band! I thought it was awesome, but early on those little skinny teenage girls that eat air and red bull for dinner started to&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; faint&lt;/span&gt; all around me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the show was awesome. Ben Gibbard was RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! We had several up close &amp;amp; personal moments, you know... I could swear he was looking at me all annoyed while I filmed his performance... sometimes I think... those people must think we think of them as trained monkeys on a circus or something. Well, some do get carried on with the "celebrity" thing, all those girls begging for an used towel at the end of the show...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of the music they played was boring, they were all so completely &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;beautiful&lt;/span&gt;. Poor Ben, he didn't drip, he poured sweat all over, I thought he was going to disappear. And all dressed in black, to top it all! He was very worried with us, the people up front, overheated... He said the sweetest thing: "If you're feeling bad, just act as if you were at a Michael W. Smith concert and lift your hand like you're praising, and those guys will help you..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he's not &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fat&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back, Martha failed on her co-pilot position and started to watch a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;RBD&lt;/span&gt; dvd, never noticing that I had to get on a certain exit, so I was trapped on 495 forever! And she was saying: "Enter DC and do another way from there..." NOOOO!!! "What about taking this exit to Alexandria?" NOOOOOOOOOO!!! "Don't you know how to drive around here??" NOOOO!!! That's why I got maps and a co-pilot that was supposed to HELP ME!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on panic. Really bad. Luckily we hadn't taken a completely wrong way, just took an longer one. Camila helped us over the phone, but I was very upset. We should have been home much earlier! At least the concert was great! Otherwise...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TO BE CONTINUED...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6101950975249887322?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6101950975249887322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6101950975249887322&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6101950975249887322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6101950975249887322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/06/if-i-could-open-my-mouth-part-1.html' title='if I could open my mouth... (part 1)'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-5556921408751979622</id><published>2008-06-04T18:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T09:22:19.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oy Vey! Not my day today...</title><content type='html'>It was also... Tornado day!!! Yaaaay!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so the day was normal. I went to the indian neighbor for lunch and we had a nice talk. She gave me some career advices, and I was beginning to think about a life plan when I check the watch: time to pick up Lindsay and Lacey. I get on the car and drive like the 30 steps to the school and I see the line of cars is not moving. And I couldn't make a turn before the intersection of the streets, so, to try to escape the big line (unusual, but I noticed a storm coming, I read about thunderstorms in the area, so I figured every parent wanted to pick up their kids instead of having them walking home) I had to go around and try to come from the other side. Didn't work, cars weren't moving. That was weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I feel the strange wind, cars turning around and the big black clouds coming. It was past the time they'd get the kids out, and I could only think that Lindsay and Lacey could be out, with a big, big rain pouring in 3, 2, 1. I parked the first place I saw, a grass field away from the school, got out of the car and ran like a maniac towards it. Right this second, the rain came down heavy. On me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reach the first door, I was supposed to get to the second. But I could not move, the rain and the wind were too strong, my lenses were dancing on my eyeballs... I have my back against the wall, I breath in, I need to find the girls! A woman in a car on the street across me rolls down her window and shouts: "STAY WHERE YOU ARE! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" Mas, was I starting to get really nervous...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman inside the school, tells me to go to the office (the place I was trying to get to in the first place). So I run and get there! Soaked wet! A parent, waiting around, tries to humor me: "You made it!" I give him a cold look. I wanna find the girls...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get inside the school and I notice a bunch of kids knelled, with their faces on the floor, turned to the wall. I learn they held the all kids inside, and they where in the "tornado position". I nearly hyperventilate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you know, this is the duck-and-cover position. This picture is from the Post, not from the school I was at, tough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2008/06/04/PH2008060404497.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2008/06/04/PH2008060404497.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got the point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adults could walk around, while kids had to keep that position for how long, so I try to find my girls among the little backs that faced me from the ground. It's hard to look for them when everybody is compressed like that. I try to focus on their clothes, so soon I find Lacey, and she was fine how I thought she'd be. She's tough and not easily impressed. She smiles at me and gets up, and I rush to tell her to get down. I cannot take them out, as one of the teachers told me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the power went off, and the emergency lights were on. I knew I had to find Lindsay, 'cause she'd be nervous, for sure... I go to where the 5th graders are, and it's hard to find her, I ask all teachers... Finally she looks up and sees me, and I could tell she's been crying. She gets up, and all the teachers around rushes to tell her to keep down. I feel terible for her, for them. But at least the girls could see me, I was hoping that would calm them down a little, to know that I was there with them, aware of here they were and if they were safe. As I walked through the corridors I could her the teacher trying to make the kids calm. Some would caress their backs. One was telling them how interesting the whole thing really was and how they could all do some "creative writing" on the subject the next day. Then she went on saying that there was actually the safest place they could be, so they shouldn't worry. I saw a teacher grabbing a boy by his hand to get him a little bit away from the others, and while he resumed the position on the floor, she placed a trash can next to his mouth. He did look sick. All I could think was that, other than a school shooting, that one of the most american experience I could have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also thought that maybe the girl's mom was trying to hear from me if they were ok, but she could not reach me, 'cause I let everything in the car. And then I wandered how back things were outside, and if my car would be turned around by the wind. I was felling nervous, and terrible that the kids had to go through this. I wish I could also find Daiana's former host kids. I spotted the teacher from the Portuguese Club I once volunteered with Daiana. I looked at her and made a sad face. She says: "É muito horrível."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could only mouth the word back at her... "horrível..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A voice comes over the speakers: "Kids, you've been great..." And everyone gets on their feet. Lindsay hugs one or two friends, and comes to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you wet?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I couldn't get to the school so I parked anywhere and ran like crazy just when the rain started. I was worried sick that you'd be out in the rain..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hug her too, but it didn't turn out to be the affectuous hug I was ready to give, for the other part is not that affectuous. She tells me she was crying, that she was worried about the dog at home, and that she thought the worse would happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go get Lacey and it fells great to have both now, together and safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you cry?" Lindsay asks.&lt;br /&gt;"Nope", Lacey goes, as if nothing was on.&lt;br /&gt;"I was really, really nervous, like praying the whole time..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell them how I got to the school and everything, and soon we are at home. The power was off and I find a call from their mom on my cell. I call her first thing to tell her we were safe now, and about what went on at school. I apologized for not having my phone, but she said it was ok. She called the school and knew that the girls would be held inside, but she was also worried about me, driving there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The stove isn't working."&lt;br /&gt;"Ahnnn, no TV!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a fairly good amount of time searching everywhere around the house for a match to heat up some food for the girls. I suggested to get a candle and ask a neighbor to light me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That would be weird", said Lindsay.&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but when the power's off and you're hungry you kinda have to make do."&lt;br /&gt;"Here's a candle."&lt;br /&gt;"A scented candle?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, we have a bigger one, but then it'd be worse to go to the neighbors carrying it."&lt;br /&gt;"Fine, I'll take it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I was, crossing the street, when it hits me. What kind of stupid person am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What kind of stupid person am I?" I ask loudly, setting the scented candle on the kitchen counter.&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;"I have a lighter in my car... This is the kind of moment I can say I love Greg."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the glove compartment, my boy-scout-host-father set up a survivor kit with aspirins, 20 bucks, the insurance information of the car, and a lighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lighter makes a big flame, and Lacey thinks it's just amazing. As I light the candle, getting the whole house to smell like butterscotch, she says (not sure if she wasn't teasing): "Cool. God bless Greg..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsay doesn't get how the stove top can't work with no electricity and seems puzzled by how am I gonna make it work. I tell her about how the gas comes off and the electric part of the game makes a sparkle that sets the fire. So if I can get the gas coming, and I can provide the fire, it'll work. With a toothpick I get a little flame from the candle, then with a quick move I get the thing working, for their amazement... Lindsay goes on saying that she never saw that, she didn't know one could do that and on and on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting them some food (rice with... rice, they chose it!), I laid down on the couch. I was drained. I don't know how long I stayed down, but suddenly I get up with the idea of making popcorn - the official power-down snack. Popcorn being made at the stove is a hit between kids of the microwave era...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsay was jumping on the trampoline, Lacey was writing a Christmas book. Shelley went home to find all very ok. I wanted to stay and tell her a little more about what happen. I end up getting out of there a little late. As I pull off, like, 10 indians, mothers and kids, were walking in the middle of the street...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-5556921408751979622?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/5556921408751979622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=5556921408751979622&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5556921408751979622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5556921408751979622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/06/oy-vey-not-my-day-today.html' title='Oy Vey! Not my day today...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8136976262118360497</id><published>2008-06-01T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T20:45:41.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weber As An American</title><content type='html'>Pics &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/natalia.estado/WeberAsAnAmerican"&gt;HERE!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/natalia.estado/SEGwZ2V-OII/AAAAAAAACsE/xld36VCfUoQ/P1070795.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/natalia.estado/SEGwZ2V-OII/AAAAAAAACsE/xld36VCfUoQ/P1070795.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recipe:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Eyeliner + lip gloss + plaid shorts + high pony tale + red ribbon + Crocs + Hollister hoddie + cell phone + Abercrombie tote + BADAAAASSS ATTITUDE! And there you go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="" style="overflow: hidden; width: 200px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8136976262118360497?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8136976262118360497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8136976262118360497&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8136976262118360497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8136976262118360497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/06/weber-as-american.html' title='Weber As An American'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/natalia.estado/SEGwZ2V-OII/AAAAAAAACsE/xld36VCfUoQ/s72-c/P1070795.JPG?imgmax=512' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2246039075290079012</id><published>2008-05-29T22:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T22:36:13.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So what do you do?</title><content type='html'>You shop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I bought:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="1emi"&gt;- a new pink headphone&lt;br /&gt;- a black bra w/ stuffing&lt;br /&gt;- 2 shirts&lt;br /&gt;- chocolate&lt;br /&gt;- a dark jeans bermuda&lt;br /&gt;- a plaid bermuda, really, REALLY america&lt;br /&gt;- red shoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- an Andy Warhol wallet to give to a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Lacey's mom told me she asked her how is it gonna be when I'm gone, she doesn't want me to. I said: "Really? I mean, Lacay said that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And her mom was like "I know", 'cause it's so not like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess she does have a soft side but... man, that's just so sad... to part. And it gets near and near everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so boring here, all alone. I miss my baby. We still have 2 weeks apart from each other. I want her to come back and fill my days. All I want to do is sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_wboMEHnHKU&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_wboMEHnHKU&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;" My life has been extraordinary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Blessed and cursed and won&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Time heals but I'm forever broken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; By and by the way..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2246039075290079012?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2246039075290079012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2246039075290079012&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2246039075290079012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2246039075290079012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/so-what-do-you-do.html' title='So what do you do?'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-4800780350228726269</id><published>2008-05-28T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T19:29:13.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aswers to Facebook announcements</title><content type='html'>#1 - Thanks, man. I just busted my headphone over you. Damn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 - Of course I believe you're engaged. The visa stuff gives a sense of urgency to those things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disney stuff comes later... It's just so much. But I did have fun. And I did take a picture chocking Mickey, as promised. You know what? Here it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s231.photobucket.com/albums/ee118/wdazzle/?action=view&amp;amp;current=chockingmickey.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee118/wdazzle/chockingmickey.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annh... that makes me feel a lil better...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-4800780350228726269?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/4800780350228726269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=4800780350228726269&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4800780350228726269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4800780350228726269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/aswers-to-facebook-announcements.html' title='Aswers to Facebook announcements'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8371134668086233332</id><published>2008-05-20T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T19:52:21.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and I give you...</title><content type='html'>the moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is it the sun, coming up over the Pyramids?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/natalia.estado/WeberIsRandomDancingInAmerica/photo#5202655829187206050"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/natalia.estado/SDOL6WtRm6I/AAAAAAAABg8/UKTtxkMnDLY/s288/P1060236.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8371134668086233332?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8371134668086233332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8371134668086233332&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8371134668086233332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8371134668086233332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/and-i-give-you.html' title='and I give you...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/natalia.estado/SDOL6WtRm6I/AAAAAAAABg8/UKTtxkMnDLY/s72-c/P1060236.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-4358164508267031724</id><published>2008-05-20T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T19:10:50.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>any news?</title><content type='html'>Don't think I have much to say... life had taken a turn that most of people would call routine at last. And things did happen, but my laziness hasn't changed. I could put things together I guess like...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Finally went to NOVA and got my exam back. I already knew my final grade, but I'm saving my written exams as masterpieces, they're proof of my great effort to express myself correctly and clearly in English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Went shopping but bought nothing. Never saw anything more hideous than american clothes. It simply against all my fashion impulses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- FINALLY could go ice skating with Martha. It was friday night Rock 'n' Skate. Zillion kids. Little kids, middle school, high school tops. Martha and I looked high schoolers ourselves. I had fun. I love the thing. I loved the ice. I miss the snow. I threw myself on the floor. Martha laughed and then felt on her butt. Than it was my turn no laugh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Cut my hair and spent a little more on a repair treatment that consisted of shampoo, I guess. Anyway, the style looked very fine, but now I washed the hair and it's weird again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Went to DC sunday with Marilia. She's here for 3 months to work w/ my host at her lab, she's 25 and getting her phD. But she's very fun, so young still. Great company. It was raining but not to stop us. I showed her the basic: the mall, Capitol, Pencil, Lincoln Memorial, Vietnam Memorial, White House, both sides, lunch at Chinatown. We bought things at Urban Outfitters to feel really americans (all on sale. I bought a cute plastic sandal that hurts my pinky toe like crazy). Then walked all the way to Georgetown. Took time but it was sooo worth it. Sun came up at last and just walking and window shopping... we got back still early. When it was dark I saw the most amazing moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Thais is not going to school for a couple of days before their trip. Yes, they're leaving for Spain tomorrow and I... well, I fell terrible. Anyways, finally life of an au pair as it should be. Nathalia prepared a detail list of educational activities for us to do throughout the day (I ask myself if I'll ever be these kind of mom). Yesterday it was mostly very great til piano time, when she collapsed completely, threw a fit and recluded herself to her room while leaving me heartbroken... Today was better. I just cannot understand why she refuses playing outside. If you seen this place... a place where a child deserves to grow. I am an apartment rat, I didn't know any better. To have it and deny it sounds like such a sin. We were up on a little hill on a beautiful park nearby, the weather was great, trees, lake, ducks, squirrels, birds and she kept asking to go to the grocery store...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Bought tickets to see Coldplay. I knooow I said I'd settle for 3 concerts, but c'mon... I was hoping no one else would come and then Coldplay announces... thing is it's on a Wednesday (WHY??), soooo... let's see how that goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm done... oh yeah. I'm going to Disney next Thursday. But abafa...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-4358164508267031724?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/4358164508267031724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=4358164508267031724&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4358164508267031724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4358164508267031724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/any-news.html' title='any news?'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7141936793865425921</id><published>2008-05-16T07:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T07:18:34.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>on writing</title><content type='html'>I really want to write but I can't... it's all inside my head pilling up, somehow it doesn't get out so easily. I thinks it's because I have too much... than I don't know how to start, when to start, what to write amongst many many memories... that are still in the making!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several times a day I remember something and construct paragraphs inside my head. And there they stay. Seriously, when are they going to invent the "Mind-Recorder"?? Things would be eaaasy and my book would be wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If somebody has writing tips, I would be very thankful. I just... I just really need to get them out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://hypem.com/track/173422"&gt;Joseph Arthur - Honey And The Moon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I wish I could follow you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; to the shores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; of freedom..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7141936793865425921?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7141936793865425921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7141936793865425921&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7141936793865425921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7141936793865425921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/on-writing.html' title='on writing'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6790116102343830961</id><published>2008-05-11T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T18:52:17.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>blue sunday</title><content type='html'>maaaan, even at night, out in the pouring freezing rain, soaked to the socks waiting for the dog to find a good spot to poop, it still feels good... Getting the average of good and bad moments, considering that I enjoy the blues most of the times... the percentage is high enough to get me through. Get through with what some people wouldn't bear, face it, joke about it, listen to acoustic version of Morrissey songs without attempting suicide, see loneliness as protection from above, forget, forgive, put everything under the umberella of love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And real problems? I'll deal with them later... or never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rhapsody.com/goto?rcid=alb.6590149&amp;amp;variant=play&amp;amp;lsrc=RN_htm"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.realone.com/rotw/images/buttons/playsm.gif" width="20" height="20" border="0" /&gt; The Astrud Gilberto Album by Astrud Gilberto&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6790116102343830961?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6790116102343830961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6790116102343830961&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6790116102343830961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6790116102343830961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/blue-sunday.html' title='blue sunday'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7853418520540586498</id><published>2008-05-09T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T20:47:28.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>yeah, but some days are harder than others...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://hypem.com/track/475892"&gt;Of Montreal - Trouble (Lindsay Buckingham Cover) (MPR)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 51);font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I should run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; On the double&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I think I'm in trouble..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7853418520540586498?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7853418520540586498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7853418520540586498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7853418520540586498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7853418520540586498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/yeah-but-some-days-are-harder-than.html' title='yeah, but some days are harder than others...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-1551172765507052984</id><published>2008-05-09T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T09:39:06.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and while you're at it...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://s231.photobucket.com/albums/ee118/wdazzle/?action=view&amp;amp;current=eu_roy_line.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee118/wdazzle/eu_roy_line.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-1551172765507052984?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/1551172765507052984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=1551172765507052984&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1551172765507052984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1551172765507052984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/and-while-youre-at-it.html' title='and while you&apos;re at it...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-3293455013756100241</id><published>2008-05-09T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T08:20:21.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just maybe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://s231.photobucket.com/albums/ee118/wdazzle/?action=view&amp;amp;current=roy_me.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee118/wdazzle/roy_me.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-3293455013756100241?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/3293455013756100241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=3293455013756100241&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3293455013756100241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3293455013756100241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/just-maybe.html' title='just maybe...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-4853277869881422565</id><published>2008-05-07T07:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T10:26:47.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of the Importance of Being Needed</title><content type='html'>Maybe if I had a normal au pair experience, I wouldn't complain so much, but I do feel like I'm not needed. And it's awkward to hang around waiting for the moment I'd be called up. And Thaissa is so independent already, and going through that annoying phase when she "knows everything"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to fell like I'm necessary, like I'm truly working and not just pretending. It feels bad to get the paycheck if you don't do much... But I can see that I won't have time for that anymore. I had to clearly tell her parents I could stay with her during the time she won't go to school, because... hello??? I'm her au pair, and I'm here to help! That's what au pairs do (or should do or should want to do, but they don't). Besides, I'm not doing anything else anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically when I'm dealing with her, I'm not dealing with myself. And I don't know what to do with myself. Should I do something? Can I do something... &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;?? Do I have the talent to search for something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I know the answer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog... not even the dog is gonna miss me. He shakes his tail to everyone, even if the german person doesn't allow him in the bed like I do. Greg is gonna be very happy he has a mature person to deal with. Thais may ask for a couple of times, but will soon forget. But I... I'll never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And... I'll never see him again. Shudder!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt;... Death Cab for Cutie needs to STOP stealing my song ideas!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pq-yP7mb8UE&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pq-yP7mb8UE&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, watch the video if you can. Not only the lyrics, but the video matches so perfectly (ok, I've never been around the world, but still). I could not believe when I watched it!  And we almost have the same hair... hauahuaha. This is getting really creepy now! I need to have a word with this guy... or maybe sue them for plagiarism of my life???... Naaah, they're awsome! I'm glad I'm gonna see them next month, IF I can get myself to Columbia - MD, that should be a challenge...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can the guy even describe experiences I had with metaphors I'd make? That guy must have remote-viewing-matrix style to my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's like a book elegantly bound, but in a language that you can't read - just yet"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh&lt;/span&gt;hhhnnn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="walltext"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriosly, this has to stop. Stop... STOOOOP!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-4853277869881422565?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/4853277869881422565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=4853277869881422565&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4853277869881422565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4853277869881422565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-importance-of-being-needed.html' title='Of the Importance of Being Needed'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-333324055605094985</id><published>2008-05-02T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T19:21:40.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NOVA is o-VAh</title><content type='html'>It is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/natalia.estado/WeberIsRandomDancingInAmerica/photo#5195916630905887858"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/natalia.estado/SBuapYuwnHI/AAAAAAAABQc/T3vdRSj5VA0/s288/P1050812.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maaaan, it was an unique experience. 'Causa nobody wanted to study, everyone just wanted it to be over. On the other hand... I'll never see those people again. To some, I got to wish "have a nice life". Others just left as they finished the exam. Maybe it was better this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, I wish I had closure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I covered mostly Intelligence, and Mrs. McKee goes and asks for things I swear I never heard of. She uses old tests on us, I bet she does, she doesn't bother making new. And she SAID she wouldn't cover UN on it and there it was. Man, that was mean! But I new it. I new it!!!! Even so I scream a couple of explectives to myself... and laughed with Sophia. Couldn't help it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kellogg Pact?? Is it a cereal???&lt;br /&gt;UN Resolution 30-whatever??? Whaaat???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, it's over. It's... over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss it. I'll work on a thorough compilation of memorable quotes, here are some:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- It's not like all   countries are going to hold hands and sing “Kumbaya”. (Mrs. McKee)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-“Feelings,   nothing more than feelings...” (Mrs. McKee)&lt;br /&gt;- A good human   penetration may take year to happen. (Mrs. McKee)&lt;br /&gt;- Can I call you an   asshole? You have no manners. (Sophia)&lt;br /&gt;- The girl is hot!   (Mrs. McKee)&lt;br /&gt;- The guy is   awesome! DAAAYYYYNNN! (April)&lt;br /&gt;- OK??? (Ryan,   after every argument)&lt;br /&gt;- My moooom! My   mooooom! (Mrs. Greenwood daughter)&lt;br /&gt;- Salud! (April)&lt;br /&gt;- Gesuntheit!   (Natalia)&lt;br /&gt;- Give her mom a   call! (Natalia)&lt;br /&gt;- Party. (Natalia.   You gotta hear to understand)&lt;br /&gt;- We've got Saddam!   He was a weapon of mass destruction, ok??? (Sophia)&lt;br /&gt;- No one knows what Project Solarium is, but she asks in every exam! Project Solarium must be an acronym for "my students are stupid"! (April)&lt;br /&gt;- Get a scooooooneee!! Do you want coffee?? (Sophia)&lt;br /&gt;- I'm such a girl when it comes to coffee. (Ryan)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Today is my last day of school, Thaissa.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Today? Your last day?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- You'll miss your friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Yeah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-333324055605094985?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/333324055605094985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=333324055605094985&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/333324055605094985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/333324055605094985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/05/nova-is-o-vah.html' title='NOVA is o-VAh'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/natalia.estado/SBuapYuwnHI/AAAAAAAABQc/T3vdRSj5VA0/s72-c/P1050812.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2000993517680848706</id><published>2008-04-29T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T20:33:15.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Atendendo a pedidos...</title><content type='html'>Tó Daiana, se distrai aí...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/t32svJ5VACg&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/t32svJ5VACg&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é texto, but it's something...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2000993517680848706?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2000993517680848706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2000993517680848706&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2000993517680848706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2000993517680848706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/atendendo-pedidos.html' title='Atendendo a pedidos...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2742813968922465320</id><published>2008-04-27T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T12:24:22.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>like sunday, baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daianaaa&lt;br /&gt;i'm bored to da bone&lt;br /&gt;can't study!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aaaaaaaaah&lt;br /&gt;i'm bored to da bone tooo&lt;br /&gt;aaaaaaaaaaaah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let's go out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeahhh&lt;br /&gt;huahauhauhauhau&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where d'ya wanna go??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oooooh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somewhere we have never been before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;huahauhauhauha&lt;br /&gt;lemme think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;p.s.: &lt;/span&gt;can I ask the heavens to spare me of all bulls%&amp;amp;* men can possibly send me? Especially on a saturday night???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2742813968922465320?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2742813968922465320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2742813968922465320&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2742813968922465320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2742813968922465320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/like-sunday-baby.html' title='like sunday, baby'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-1764990427691520416</id><published>2008-04-24T17:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T17:51:55.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting for Ben Affleck...</title><content type='html'>Ok, you know when you are really terribly looking, bad hair, sweaty and glossy, wearing glasses and anything you put on a hurry? And then you go and bump into someone you know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things I missed the most is bumping into people I know anywhere. Shopping, walking down the street, doing whatever. I used to see people I knew everywhere, even on places I never thought I would. My school wasn't even that big but you could bump into people you studied with all around. Some people reported having met classmates at Disney World! Another country! Go figure...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, happened today, when I was looking hideous (at least I wasn't wearing Crocs. uuuughhh!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so angry I took a shower, washed my hair and put some very nice closes to go on a date with... ahn, Martha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also randomly  met people, you know??? I mean... her hosts! But I was hoping for Ben Affleck... because the more people you see, increases the possibility of meeting more people... ok, that math only works in my head. But I was feeling luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Mason - yes, the dog (which, btw, was shaved and looks like a sheep) - can send mental messages to his girlfriend's mom... seriously, he was so depressed he couldn't see Gopi because nobody was hope, even though Gopi was loose in the yard, he wished and prayed so hard the lady called me to say that, even though she wasn't home, I could let Mason in her yard so they coul play. Seriously, the dog sent dog-brain messages... anyway, if Mason can do that, maybe I can attract Ben Affleck. Priscila was sending her messages too, she said he'd stop by Ashburn to buy some beers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it wasn't today my lucky day... but maybe... soon??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-1764990427691520416?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/1764990427691520416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=1764990427691520416&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1764990427691520416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1764990427691520416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/waiting-for-ben-affleck.html' title='Waiting for Ben Affleck...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-1677324839397424746</id><published>2008-04-23T07:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:16:52.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IR Party</title><content type='html'>Ok... antes que fique tarde demais pra escrever qlqr coisa eu to postando sobre a IR Anti-Au Pair Party. A festa realmente foi um sucesso... pq no final até levei parabéns e abraço do Greg. Ou seja... uuuuhhhhhhhhh-hhhhuuuuuu, se vc leva um desses, é pq mereceu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fotos do momento histórico não estão disponíveis pq a Daiana ficou tão besta que nem se prontificou a bater foto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bom, de manhã eu fui já completamente atrasada pra aula de violão. Despachei a Martha pra casa da Daiana, onde ela poderia fazer escova em paz e combinei com a Manuelita de pegá-la mais tarde. Fui de Leesburg até Gainesville, onde ela mora, e com o Google Maps me achei direitinho. Ela e a amiga Natalia (tinha que ser), também da Colômbia vieram. Tadinhas, as duas com alergia, meio gripe, meio down. Mas vieram arrumadas, animadas pra festa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Levei elas no Subway e depois pra casa, elas ficaram descansando. A Daiana e a Martha vieram (escova feita). Martha fica centas horas no banheiro decidindo o que vestir e me vem com uma blusa preta, saia curta e meia-calça preta. E botas de cano longo e salto alto! Isso porque estava mó calor... eu ficava com calor só de ver ela daquele jeito. Ninguém mais tava vestido daquele jeito. Eu pus uma blusinha sem manga preta (Old Navy, kid's section) e calça capri bege...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gente demorou até umas 4:30 pm pra começar as arrumações da comida. Isso porque eu pedi CENTAS vezes pra Martha fazer os pães de queijo... e ela enrolando. Colocamos os laptops, meu e dela em cima da coffe table e o Greg veio - bermuda e camisa florida gritando "Sou Gringo" - e perguntou se podia dar um jeito no nosso "pathetic sound system". Suuure...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele foi e ligou uns fios na televisão... depois pensou, pensou e veio me dizer que uma boa idéia ia ser colocar o Wii pra galera jogar... Achei má idéia, sei lá, sem graça. A Martha também, mas a Nathalia também, mas a gente só olhou e ele foi e ligou o Wii do mesmo jeito e pôs os laptops de volta na coffe table, mas apareceu com um rádio do nada, tava lá no basement e eu nem sabia que existia. Ele conectou tudo no rádio e colocou dois sound-speakers e tudo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto isso já arrumávamos a mesa e já eram 5 horas. Eu torcendo pra ngm aparecer, e a gente brincando que o primeiro a aparecer ia ser o Michael, o nerd lá da sala. Mas não e ele nem veio. Os primeiros foram uma amiga da Nathalia lá da George Mason, com o namorado. Americanos... o cara foi logo jogar Wii... aaah, agora eu entendi o mecanismo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E logo todo mundo começou a chegar. Veio o Shah e o irmão (que são Iranianos), veio o Rugero, um italiano lá da GMU, veio o Rodrigo Pão-com-manteiga (pra felicidade da Thaissa! Ela tava super envergonhada e chateada na festa, mas depois foi melhorando, mas ela sempre sumia vez ou outra). Veio a Amelie (Bélgica), a Vivian (China) - que também se empolgou com o Wii e ficou jogando mó tempão, inclusive com o Greg!. Veio a Dilek (Turquia), a Puleng (S. África), umas amigas delas das Filipinas. Veio a Kay (Thailandia) e uma amiga da Colômbia, que trouxe o host kid da idade da Thaissa. Vieram as brasileiras Alessandra, Maíra, Mariana e seu boyfriend americano. Veio a Natasha (Rússia)... Todo mundo trouxe comida e a mesa ficou entupida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Martha não sossegou enquanto a Camila não chegou, e o Verdura. Ficava o tempo todo com o celular e nem curtiu muito... :-( diz ela que sim... Mas depois chegou essa galera, o Verdura trouxe um irmão e um amigo, vibe meio mexican thug. Greg se assustou...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da minha turma, só veio a Sophia... ela é super fofa, trouxe o Vu, um amigo dela, ele tem o cabelo moicano enooorme, foi O cabelo da festa! E ela veio trazendo Empanadas, que a vó dela da Colômbia fez... é tipo Risole!! Eu me empolguei, foi lindo... mostrei pra todo mundo. E estavam maravilhosos... Eu dei pra ela o CD da Céu que a Nathalia comprou no Starbucks e não gostou. Ela não quis aceitar, mas insisti, ela ficou toda feliz... :-D Pena que ela não pode ficar muito tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E aí que pessoal dançou a beça. Tinha salsa e o Rugero sabe dançar e tirou um monte de menina. Ele tava no ataque... rsss. A Martha tinha forró no laptop e a Daiana dançou com o Rodrigo, ficou toda empolgada! Aliás, a Daiana não parou de dançar por nada... Eu só ficava de olho em tudo, é chato ser host, mas me diverti. Só quase não comi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Nathalia se empolgou com as músicas, pediu pra por samba, e a Martha por É o Tchan. Nathalia dançando é o tchan foi o pior... e a Martha pôs Ivete Sangalo, contra as minhas regras... eu quase pirei. E a Sophia ainda se amarrou, disse que parecia ska...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tocou aquela "Moro em Jaçanã... " e a Nathalia se empolgou completamente e tirou o Greg pra dançar. Ela que nem uma doida e ele todo duro. Mas com o maior sorrisão no rosto. Ela fica feliz, ele fica feliz... Há gravação desse momento único, mas ainda tenho vergonha pela pessoa do Greg e ainda não pus no Youtube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Rodrigo veio até me perguntar o que é que eu fiz pra fazer o Greg encarar a festa com tanta felicidade (ou menos rabugentice), e eu disse que era tudo técnica... que era só ter achado um jeito de ele ser útil. E ao ver o sucesso do Wii, ele ia ficar impossível, achando que a festa só deu certo pq ele interveio. Então deixa achar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais hilário foi quando o Rodrigo tava brincando de pique-esconde com a Thaissa e aí vem ele assim, pro meio da galera e diz pra mim: "Perdi a Thais". Ela sumia toda hora... Um momento ela sumiu, e eu e o Greg procurando, e eu fui achar ela no quarto, de pijama, na cama, pronta pra dormir. Eram tipos 7:30. Eu só abri a porta, olhei e saí. Eu não ia conseguir deal com aquilo no momento. A Nathalia subiu e convenceu ela a voltar, ela veio toda animadinha. Dá pra entender??? Então...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aliás, a máquina da Nathalia sumiu também e a gente ficou procurando a casa toda. Acabou que estava na garagem... pq eu não sei...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O momento mais legal foi a hora de cantar parabéns pra Manuelita. A gente pediu pra que cada pessoa de cada língua diferente cantasse, e depois de algum tempo pros hispânicos entenderem o mecanismo, fomos cantando e ficou lindo. Então foi em espanhol, português, turco, russo, farsi, tagalog, francês, italiano, chinês...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi mto fofo demais. Totalmente International Relations... Eis o vídeo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zL76HswBZzQ&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zL76HswBZzQ&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessoal foi embora antes das 10. O Greg ficou bolado pq os El Salvadorenhos ficaram do lado de fora conversando e isso podia chamar atenção dos vizinhos, ou que eles poderiam fazer bagunça, sei lá o que se passou na cabeça dele... Na verdade eles tavam esperando a Martha se decidir se ia sair com eles ou não, então o Greg mandou ela se decidir... rápido! E ela foi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E pro final a gente tava já dançando com pulserinha neon e uma estorou no meu rosto, e foi no meu olho. Mas foi tudo bem, só tive que jogar fora as lentes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E foi isso. O Greg deu uma de maria e limpou praticamente tudo. Natalia e Manuelita foram descansar, Nathalia e a Thaissa já tinham ido dormir, o Greg foi também e terminamos a festa e eu a Daiana comendo e tomando os restos. So nice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fun e pelo abraço do Greg, considero missão cumprida!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-1677324839397424746?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/1677324839397424746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=1677324839397424746&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1677324839397424746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1677324839397424746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/ir-party.html' title='IR Party'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-1992222618800912096</id><published>2008-04-22T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T07:04:18.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>question</title><content type='html'>- Naty, what do you want to be when you grow up?&lt;br /&gt;- ............ ahnn... I want to be a filmmaker!&lt;br /&gt;- What?&lt;br /&gt;- I want to be a writer... and make movies!&lt;br /&gt;- Oh, and what about play the guitar?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt; play the guitar too.&lt;br /&gt;- And&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;be a rock star!&lt;br /&gt;- Yeah... but the thing is, I don't know how to sing!&lt;br /&gt;- Oh&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; C'MOOON&lt;/span&gt;, Naty!!!! You don't know how to sing??? You sing High School Musical!&lt;br /&gt;- riiight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.: desde quando o Colin Meloy tá dando uma digatinho??? rsss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muso dos Indies blasès!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.thedecemberists.info/images/gallery/The-Decemberists-Colin-Meloy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.thedecemberists.info/images/gallery/The-Decemberists-Colin-Meloy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-1992222618800912096?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/1992222618800912096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=1992222618800912096&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1992222618800912096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1992222618800912096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/question.html' title='question'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6451401787273695104</id><published>2008-04-20T13:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T14:24:53.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wars</title><content type='html'>I can't believe, I cannot believe he's making the poor child watch Star Wars...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, please, pleeeeeaaaase don't call me (fingers crossed...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Naaaaty..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F-WORD!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Isn't Princess Leia beautiful??? Isn't she..."&lt;br /&gt;- "NO!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Thais, do you know who's Luke's dad????&lt;br /&gt;-"Shhhh... Shut up!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"What happened to Darth Vader?"&lt;br /&gt;-"Why don't you go get the second one?"&lt;br /&gt;-"Whatever..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw, why watch Star Wars if you can watch just this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IX3sI0q5iMI&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IX3sI0q5iMI&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6451401787273695104?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6451401787273695104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6451401787273695104&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6451401787273695104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6451401787273695104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/wars.html' title='Wars'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6327770135062115591</id><published>2008-04-17T20:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T20:34:59.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weber on a Tire Swing</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BlbB9nBdZZg&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BlbB9nBdZZg&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6327770135062115591?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6327770135062115591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6327770135062115591&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6327770135062115591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6327770135062115591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/weber-on-tire-swing.html' title='Weber on a Tire Swing'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6653190812217239797</id><published>2008-04-17T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T09:20:07.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daiana</title><content type='html'>Dear,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still cannot believe how somebody like you came into my life. How was it possible to find someone that share so much with me, someone so alike. And yet, our differences help keeping a perfect balance. How come we can never run out of things to talk, how come we can understand what we are feeling, even thought those are things words can't even try to explain. We're on the same boat, and had a very similar background. So we ended up joining forces against what was constantly trying to keep us down. Only we know deep down what we wanted to scream about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're alike, but somehow we've found so much we could teach one another. And while you're stressed but wiser, and I'm sillier but  open-heartead, we could manage to find a common ground where both could grow. You learn how to let your laughter run loose, and to breath before acting, and to find a crazy bright side out of everything. And I watched you grow and learned from you, how you managed to overcome all the hits you had the past year. I did what I could to make you feel better at those times. And I hope I could help. I didn't mind at all being your personal clown. As you were my partner at so many adventures. I was just so glad to have someone like you by my side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And althought we took a long time to start, we had a great run. Full of fall leaves, cherry blossoms,  ol' people's cruises, miles and miles by foot. And a million stories we told one another. For one thing, you helped me not to lose myself. It's so hard to forget about yourself when you're out of your center, of your safe harbor, away from all that makes you to be you... I was almost forgetting. Who would hear me? Who would care to know who I am? You listened, you listened to everything I told you, even if it probably was nothing you'd care about. You heard all the songs I sent you, all the silly Youtube videos, all the movies I recommended, and books. Because after a while, I found out I didn't have to go all the way to find out what you liked or not. The answer was within me already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not wait to meet you and tell you about anything. And yet, you never seemed bored or not interested. Wow, I admire you so much... what did I do to get that much friendship? Your trust is the most precious thing. You were beside me all the time, during my confessions, during my hard times and happy times, during my drama queen attacks. And you never quit. Thanks you, so so much...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I say you were the perfect au pair of 'em all, I mean it!!! And you're coming back with the same amount of luggage you brought one year ago. That's amazing in itself. But there's more, for sure. The fact that you lived the whole experience of diving into another culture, totally different people, having to put up with things that normally would drive you mad, getting yourself in the middle of so many twisted stories. Seeing so many wrong things happening and knowing how to control yourself. If you say you have no patience, dear, you must have grown it inside of you. Enough to can it and sell! The life you lived here, the things you had to overcome, it is amazing to look back and contemplate. How could you do it? I couldn't be more proud of you, of everything you did on your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't come and tell me that you were stupid or something like this... I know what you mean, maybe more than anyone, but remember: we can't help giving what we know other people need and might like, even though we don't get recognition or anything in return. Is giving that matters, because if we don't take it away, it will suffocate ourselves, we won't forgive ourselves. We choose to jump in, even though it's hard to keep going. You know what this is called? It's simply LOVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember that text in the Bible that everybody uses all the time? Can you see through the lines what it really means?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" id="en-NIV-28654" class="sup"&gt;"(4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;) Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" id="en-NIV-28655" class="sup"&gt;5) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" id="en-NIV-28656" class="sup"&gt;(6) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" id="en-NIV-28657" class="sup"&gt;(7) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" id="en-NIV-28658" class="sup"&gt;(8) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love never fails."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;1 Corinthians 13)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Would it be better if you chose not to live this love? I don't think so.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just think that every time you give this kind of love a new star will appear in the sky, or a deer will be born, or a gazelle... Got it??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that you're heading back, it's with nothing but happiness in my heart that I declare you graduate from the "Weber Private School of Monkey Business". You are ready to go and purchase many monkeys wherever you go. I'm also happy for all you accomplished, because I know that will make a huge difference in everything you do. I just know that you will be alright. You have as many tools you need to succeed, and the wisdom to use them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also sad to see you go, but our friendship will go on, and we'll see each other again, somewhere out in this big world. And inside our hearts we will always be able to find the love that brought us together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walk on. It will be alright. And I always will be by your side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yRCKfaz6Ey0&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yRCKfaz6Ey0&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6653190812217239797?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6653190812217239797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6653190812217239797&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6653190812217239797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6653190812217239797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/daiana.html' title='Daiana'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6522962740752131268</id><published>2008-04-16T08:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T08:55:41.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversary!!!!</title><content type='html'>AaaAaAaAaaaaAAaaH, e hoje faz &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;um ano&lt;/span&gt; que eu aterrisei nos EUA!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas já? Eu nem acredito...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ai ai, tanto se passou... e tão rápido! Um ano atrás, eu senti o frio americano, comprei luvas, fui num shopping, entrei na Macy's, fui num Starbuck's, comi no Subway e pizza do Papa John's. Mais importante, conheci gente que ia ter grande impacto na minha vida. E que eu nunca vou esquecer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um ano atrás foi o começo, só o começo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acabaram-se as palavras...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.: Remember V-Tech...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6522962740752131268?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6522962740752131268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6522962740752131268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6522962740752131268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6522962740752131268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/anniversary.html' title='Anniversary!!!!'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2629821431150373747</id><published>2008-04-16T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T09:23:18.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And so on...</title><content type='html'>Ai gente, várias coisas se passaram e eu nao escrevi aqui no blog. Ou nao escrevi de maneira óbvia. Em parte porque a gente comecou a fazer WeberCasts e achamos que seria suficiente. Mas claro, a pessoa aqui tem que postar os vídeos todos (e uns ainda tem que passar por uma edição básica), e a preguiça eh grande... ENORME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basicamente o que aconteceu nas últimas semanas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Comecei a convidar as pessoas pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;festa&lt;/span&gt;. E ngm fazia o RSVP praticamente, e tinha gente que não ia vir mas resolveu encher o saco. Eu resolvi que nao ia me estressar com isso ou preparativos ateh a hora certa. Pelo menos garanti que a Martha ia vir, mais a Daiana e a Manuelita. Acontece a Nathalia se empolgou com a ideia e resolver mandar um email pra lista dela da George Mason University, que tinha assim umas 100 pessoas. "Modos que" tinha gente mandando e-mail pedindo pra ser convidado pro &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;GMU event on April 12th&lt;/span&gt;. Eu e o Greg não gostamos nem um pouco da idéia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Comprei passagens pra ir pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Disney&lt;/span&gt;, a Camila concordou ir comigo. Serão 4 dias no final de maio, quando a Nathalia e a Thaissa estiverem em Madrid. É, eu não sei mto bem pq eu resolvi isso. Provavelmente porque ficar aqui sem fazer nada vai ser deprê, e nessa altura do campeonato, não vou conseguir ninguém que queira ir a outro lugar comigo. E ir pra onde? Sei lá, ou a "sugary goodness" da Disney me anima ou me deprime de vez...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Dia 5, foi a comemoração do aniversário da Maya. E de noite ia ter uma festa que era do aniversário da Shanna, tia da Maya e pra dar adeus à Daiana. Eu e Daiana saímos pra comer no Ruby Tuesday, depois fomos lá no Claude Moore Park, onde era a festa da menina. Daí eu fui pra casa, fiquei com a Thaissa. Cara, eu tava muito cansada naquele dia, muita preguiça demais... Umas 8 horas o pessoal voltou e falaram pra eu ir na festa da Daiana. Nossa, até me arrumar foi um problema... Aí eu fui, e a animação tava contagiante! De dar mais sono! Um monte de tio, tia, primos, gente que nem a Daiana conhece, comendo galinha frita fria e esparramados pelo sofá. As crianças tavam um pouco mais empolgadas, aí a gente foi pro basement (óoootimo espaço pruma dance floor, a gente jogou vários verdes pra ver se cediam o espaço pra festa na outra semana, mas aquelas tias nem se tocaram. Ou não quiseram se tocar). A gente dançou lá com as crianças e simpolgamos quando tocou "Everyday Feels Like Sunday", mas logo começaram as músicas mais &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;black pride&lt;/span&gt; e foi a hora do pessoal se "empolgar" (insira muitas aspas). As músicas eram só a batida e o cara falando "now step to the left, step to the right, now cha-cha with your left" e por aí. Mas o interessante era que aí apareciam as tias e primas todas, da menina de 3 até a tia de 70 pra fazer a coreô. Eu tenho vídeos, posto quando eu postar... A Shanna tava trebidis, e quando cortaram o bolo ela tacou na &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cara&lt;/span&gt; da Daiana (de acordo com a Nathalia, essa prática é normal aqui). Aaaah, e conheci o Mr. Marshall!!! Já achava que ele era fruto do imaginário coletivo... Engraçado que na hora que eu fui embora, subimos até o quarto da Daiana e eu deitei num lado, ela deitou no outro e a gente só acordou no dia seguinte! Até parece que a gente tinha "partied hard", era só preguicite hemorrágica mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Update: &lt;/span&gt;POSTEI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pstdfFIUB9M&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pstdfFIUB9M&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Dia seguinte a gente acorda já atrasada pra ir pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;United Methodist&lt;/span&gt;. A gente queria mto ir pq ia ser a última oportunidade da Daiana ir. Então a gente vai, mesmo estando tarde, e foi ótimo como sempre. A gente ficou emocionada, chorou... Depois fomos tomamos café lá (meio-dia) e resolvemos ir pra casa tomar banho, relaxar e pensar no que fazer depois.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Em casa, a Thaissa recebeu uma amiguinha e eu fiquei com elas. Depois a Daiana chegou e a gente como sempre não sabia o que fazer. Resolvi então levar ela em um lugar inédito, então resolvemos tentar achar &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Georgetown&lt;/span&gt;! Peguei o endereço exato do Clyde's no Google Maps e lá fomos. O caminho é fácil, o problema é quando vai chegando perto de lá, a gente entra em DC e as ruas são pequenas, caminhos não muito óbvios e o medo de me perder ou entrar na contra-mão me deixou loucaaa... e nada da gente se achar e eu me desesperei e quis voltar, mas aí resolvi tentar de novo e não consegui... cara, aquele lugar é que nem Avalon: você precisa saber abrir as brumas pra conseguir entrar!!! Afinal, a gente teve a brilhante (e pobre) idéia de estacionar o carro e ir a pé, e não é que a gente conseguiu??? :-&gt; Tava meio frio, domingão é mais caído, mas tudo bem, foi legal. A gente comeu no Clyde's e do lado tavam montando &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;gravações do filme&lt;/span&gt; "State of Play", rolando em DC por um tempo já. Não vi nem o Ben Affleck nem o Russel Crowe, mas foi legal ver os caminhões com equipamentos, as câmeras, gruas, spotlight e toda aquela papagaiada. Mas se alguém perguntar, eu juro de pé juntinho que eu vi o Ben Affleck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Tive prova na sexta dia 4 e tirei B. Convidei a galera da aula pra festa. Galera parecia empolgada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Comecei a fazer &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;baby-sitting&lt;/span&gt; pra prof. de ballet da Thaissa. Ela tem 4, mas o mais velho tem 12 e tipos não conta. Uma bebê de 11 meses, a mais fofa. Um dem 6 e uma de 3 e meio. A de 3 é autista. Eu tava nervosa mas deu tudo certo. As crianças são fofas e não deram trabalho. O pai estava lá e me ajudou bastante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Comprei ticket pra ir ver o &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Death Cab for Cutie&lt;/span&gt;. Só que é em Columbia, MD. Numa segunda-feira... aai. Já pedi ajuda pra Martha, ela conhece o lugar. Vai ser enquanto a galera estiver viajando também. Então pelo menos isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Aliás, a Martha foi pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;California&lt;/span&gt; e parece ter se divertido demais. Ela achou tudo lindíssimo. Ela estava com uma amiga em São Francisco e até viu as baleias... Ela tirou fotos lindas. Depois foi pra LA, e eu fiquei ajudando ela pelo msn. Ela se divertiu bastante e ficou lá tirando fotos com as estrelas (Britney Spears, Celine Dion... a pessoa tem um gosto duvidoso sem dúvida).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Comprei tickets pro show do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pearl Jam&lt;/span&gt; em junho. Dois. Não me pergunte porque. Agora tenho que vender um deles. Um é perto do palco, meio de lado, meio atrás do palco. Outro é de lado, longe e láááá em cima. Qual você escolheria???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Então, contando com o do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rilo Kiley&lt;/span&gt; tô indo a 3 shows. CHEGA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Lindsay quis gravar um clipe dela dançando um mash-up do Souja Boy com Toxic versão ska que eu mostrei pra ela. Ela siamarrou... O clipe tá comédia, mas tenho que editar... aaaaah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Putz, tá &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;calor&lt;/span&gt; pra cacirds aqui...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Tô lendo &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Catcher in the Rye&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(Apanhador no Campo de Centeio) e caramba, é bom demais!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eu e Nathalia compramos coisas pra festa... chips n' dips, sorvete, refrigerante. Não chegamos a conclusão sobre a parte etílica da festa. Assim, ela comprou umas 40 garrafas de vinho, mas só 10% é pra festa, o resto é pra ela mesmo. E eu não quis comprar cerveja. Aliás, a gente não sabia quantos menores de idade viriam. Ela disse que os alunos dela provavelmente não viriam mesmo, pq é longe. Só uma galera que trabalhou com ela, de maior mesmo. E da galera da minha turma, eu só contava com 3 mesmo. Então deixa, bem melhor assim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Fiz um bolo de chocolate pra Manuelita e tasquei brigadeiro e morango. Ficou meio esquisito, eu cortei ele no meio pra fazer 2 camadas, mas ele tipo arqueou e os morangos de cima ficaram deslizando... eu também fiz brigadeiros de enrolar e enquanto isso, ligava desesperada pra dizer pra Daiana que a Martha já tinha chegado no aeroporto. A Daiana ia pegar a Martha, mas nada de atender o telefone! Uma hora depois de tentativa consigo falar com ela. A Martha tava toda cansada, suada e com fome. Pra piorar elas se perderam na volta... Quando finalmente chegaram, eu já tinha uma macarronada pronta pra Martha e dei brigadeiro pra todo mundo (best comfort food EVAH) se desestressar. A Daiana não tinha tido um dia muito bom. Acabou que ficou todo mundo conversando até as 3 da matina...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tá, vou parando por aqui pq tudo tem que ter um fim... posto sobre a festa depois!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2629821431150373747?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2629821431150373747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2629821431150373747&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2629821431150373747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2629821431150373747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/and-so-on.html' title='And so on...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-5093236163951422846</id><published>2008-04-11T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T05:52:00.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>affected by weather</title><content type='html'>the place kills me when it gets a weather like this&lt;br /&gt;familiar&lt;br /&gt;I remember a day like this&lt;br /&gt;when I was six...&lt;br /&gt;I think&lt;br /&gt;a person shouldn't have that many memories&lt;br /&gt;it makes it harder to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://hypem.com/track/493934"&gt;Sufjan Stevens - The Transfiguration&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-5093236163951422846?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/5093236163951422846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=5093236163951422846&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5093236163951422846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5093236163951422846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/affected-by-weather.html' title='affected by weather'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-1078130710175723845</id><published>2008-04-09T20:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T13:18:06.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passando mal...</title><content type='html'>Eu tô passando mal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha isso:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R_2ExSBjGjI/AAAAAAAAJkA/0O1814-Q8TA/s1600-h/chad_doreck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R_2ExSBjGjI/AAAAAAAAJkA/0O1814-Q8TA/s400/chad_doreck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187448327987468850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora, na sinceridade, cadê a coragem de acordar a cada dia sabendo que eu nunca vou ter um homem desse??? Xerife, eu desisto. Peço pra sair...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Update&lt;/span&gt;: Mariana jura de pé juntinho que o &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;gaydar&lt;/span&gt; dela apitou quando ela viu essa foto. Pelo sim ou pelo não, a gente faz uma ressalva: cadê a coragem de acordar a cada dia sabendo que rola um desperdício desses???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-1078130710175723845?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/1078130710175723845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=1078130710175723845&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1078130710175723845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1078130710175723845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/passando-mal.html' title='Passando mal...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R_2ExSBjGjI/AAAAAAAAJkA/0O1814-Q8TA/s72-c/chad_doreck.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6263088104362222975</id><published>2008-04-09T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T18:59:49.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coisas do Brasil</title><content type='html'>Meu país tem piada pronta. O fato em si já é risível o bastante, não precisa nem se esforçar pra por uma piada no meio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quer exemplo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="materia-titulo"&gt; &lt;h1 class="entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mulher Melancia sobre saída do Créu: ‘O grupo fez muita pressão psicológica’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt; &lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;A dançarina, capa da ‘Palyboy’ de abril, vai se lançar como cantora&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="materia-mascara midia-largura-270"&gt;&lt;div class="materia-foto"&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Andressa Soares não é mais dançarina do Créu&lt;/h4&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;     &lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;A derrière do momento, &lt;strong&gt;             &lt;a href="http://ego.globo.com/Gente/Noticias/0,,MUL357239-9798,00-PAPO+RAPIDO+COM+MELANCIA+QUE+PODE+DEIXAR+O+CREU+EM+DUAS+SEMANAS.html" target="_blank"&gt;Andressa Soares&lt;/a&gt;         &lt;/strong&gt;, de 19 anos, mais conhecida como &lt;strong&gt;             &lt;a href="http://ego.globo.com/Gente/Noticias/0,,MUL357239-9798,00-PAPO+RAPIDO+COM+MELANCIA+QUE+PODE+DEIXAR+O+CREU+EM+DUAS+SEMANAS.html" target="_blank"&gt;Mulher Melancia&lt;/a&gt;         &lt;/strong&gt;, por causa dos seus 121 cm de quadril, &lt;a href="http://ego.globo.com/Gente/Noticias/0,,MUL357239-9798,00-PAPO+RAPIDO+COM+MELANCIA+QUE+PODE+DEIXAR+O+CREU+EM+DUAS+SEMANAS.html" target="_blank"&gt;             &lt;strong&gt;não queria sair do Créu&lt;/strong&gt;         &lt;/a&gt;. Segundo a morena, em entrevista exclusiva ao         &lt;strong&gt;EGO&lt;/strong&gt;, as negociações travaram porque o         grupo queria que a imagem dela sempre fosse associada a deles.         “Eles não entenderam a minha agenda, quando eu fiquei uma semana         por conta das fotos para a ‘&lt;strong&gt;             &lt;a href="http://ego.globo.com/Gente/Noticias/0,,MUL357311-9798,00-MULHER+MELANCIA+VAI+TER+PLAYBOY+DE+ABRIL+DEDICADA+A+ELA.html" target="_blank"&gt;Playboy’ (do mês de abril&lt;/a&gt;         &lt;/strong&gt;), disseram que eu estava faltando muito - fizeram         muita pressão psicológica em mim. Eles queriam que ficasse 24h         em função do Créu. Não aceitaram as minhas condições, então         preferi sair.”&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Para que sua ausência não fosse sentida durante os shows do         grupo, Andressa chegou a ensaiar uma menina. Em vão. O assessor         da morena completa: “Também disseram que a Andressa não quis         atender o telefone durante o ensaio para a revista, mas         ela esqueceu o celular no carro do Aguinaldo (empresário do         grupo). Andressa ficou uma semana sem ele.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Outro motivo para a saída da dançarina foi o valor dos cachês         pagos às dançarinas. De acordo com Andressa, ela recebia um         pouco mais que R$ 150 por apresentação. “Mas não quero entrar em         detalhes”, revela, explicando. “Participava de um programa de         rádio e entrei no Créu para gravar um DVD. Mas a repercussão foi         tão maravilhosa, que acabei ficando. O grupo foi uma benção, se         eles aceitassem as minhas condições eu ficaria.”&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem rivalidades com a Mulher Jaca&lt;/strong&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;      Sobre a sua relação com a outra dançarina do         grupo, &lt;strong&gt;             &lt;a href="http://ego.globo.com/Gente/Noticias/0,,MUL339524-9798,00-DADA+CRISTINA+A+MULHER+JACA+AFIRMA+SER+TAO+GOSTOSA+QUANTO+MULHER+MELANCIA.html" target="_blank"&gt;Daiane Cristina, a Mulher Jaca&lt;/a&gt;         &lt;/strong&gt;, Melancia diz que não existe rivalidade entre elas.         “Considero a Dadá minha prima, fomos criadas juntas desde         pequenas, a gente se fala pelo telefone de vez em quando, mas         ela está cumprindo a agenda de shows do grupo.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Andressa vai autografar a “Playboy” de abril em três lugares no         Rio de Janeiro, entre eles, no Camelódromo da Uruguaiana e na         Baixada Fluminense. “Escolhi a Uruguaiana, porque ninguém nunca         fez autografou a revista no lugar. E sempre ganho um carinho         muito grande de quem trabalha lá. Toda vez que eu ia com a minha         mãe fazer compras eles sempre falavam: ‘olha lá aquela dançarina         gostosa!’, e me paravam para pedir autógrafos”, diz Andressa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;         Após sua saída do grupo carioca, Andressa vai         correr atrás de um antigo sonho: cantar. A &lt;strong&gt;             &lt;a href="http://ego.globo.com/Gente/Noticias/0,,MUL357871-9798,00-MULHER+MELANCIA+VAI+COMECAR+AULAS+DE+CANTO.html" target="_blank"&gt;morena voltou a fazer aulas de canto&lt;/a&gt;         &lt;/strong&gt; e já pré-assinou um contrato com uma gravadora.         "Com o sucesso do Créu, deixei esse projeto de lado",         desabafa ela, que vai cantar funk melody. “Selecionamos         segunda-feira, 17, o repertório, já coloquei voz em algumas         músicas. O CD pode ter alguma coisa pop também”, conta. No novo         projeto, Melancia não vai deixar de mostrar o seu rebolado. Mas         terá companhia de dançarinas. “Pensei em ter uma loira e uma         negra, mas já existe grupo só de mulheres. Então pode ser dois         homens ou dois casais”.&lt;/p&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Valeu, galera do Ego, que já destacou as passagens mais críticas. Não precisei fazer nada. Isso é que é jornalismo, uhm... profundo!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora não sei se rio ou se choro...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6263088104362222975?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6263088104362222975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6263088104362222975&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6263088104362222975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6263088104362222975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/coisas-do-brasil.html' title='Coisas do Brasil'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2078630377624910152</id><published>2008-04-08T08:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T08:29:37.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WeberCast #6 - Abrindo as Brumas de Georgetown</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VH5PnRJ_w8U&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VH5PnRJ_w8U&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aaaai... e ainda tem tantos videos...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2078630377624910152?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2078630377624910152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2078630377624910152&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2078630377624910152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2078630377624910152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/webercast-6-abrindo-as-brumas-de.html' title='WeberCast #6 - Abrindo as Brumas de Georgetown'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-1632259269793308818</id><published>2008-04-07T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T06:56:55.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some girls...</title><content type='html'>burried under a millions words&lt;br /&gt;politeness, instant feelings&lt;br /&gt;poetry forgotten&lt;br /&gt;smothered in silence&lt;br /&gt;there's no sentiment left&lt;br /&gt;all lost in the empty&lt;br /&gt;vacuum&lt;br /&gt;guess that's was exactly&lt;br /&gt;what i expected&lt;br /&gt;you're welcome&lt;br /&gt;thanks for no thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://hypem.com/track/503420"&gt;Supergrass - Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(aperta o play!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;"Send me your pillow/ The one you dream on/ and I'll send you mine"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-1632259269793308818?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/1632259269793308818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=1632259269793308818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1632259269793308818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1632259269793308818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/burried-under-millions-words-politeness.html' title='Some girls...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8714567520400578149</id><published>2008-04-06T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T19:42:35.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"... it seems like just yesterday you were that rambunctious twelve year old who fell out of his tree house and broke his arm... got up... set his broken arm back into place himself... grabbed me by the shirt collar and, whilst glaring into my eyes, said "We don't speak of this."...after that I knew you'd be destined for nothing but glory..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;May you grow up and always have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Health, so you'll never not call somebody because you had a nosebleed.&lt;br /&gt;Intelligence, so you can have many study dates and share it over cups of coffee.&lt;br /&gt; Wisdom, so you can notice a good opportunity when it comes to you.&lt;br /&gt;Fun, in ways not even alcohol can induce.&lt;br /&gt;Friends, that can make you laugh even when you're sad, tired, or cranky for not having something to eat.&lt;br /&gt; Peace, to make you heart calm down when all you want is so far away.&lt;br /&gt;Music, the kind that doesn't give you pain.&lt;br /&gt;And Love, 'cause is all we need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see if you're really &lt;span&gt;destined for nothing but glory...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now please, stop bugging me, because tá brabo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8714567520400578149?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8714567520400578149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8714567520400578149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8714567520400578149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8714567520400578149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-4917540056919220822</id><published>2008-04-04T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T19:58:25.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="1f8v" class="h8iICe"&gt;i wanna be nice &amp;amp; naive again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="1f9m" class="h8iICe"&gt;i want peace, with myself, with God and everybody else&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="1f9l" class="h8iICe"&gt;I don't want to be ashamed of my feelings&lt;/div&gt;i had enough of boy problems&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="1f8u" class="h8iICe"&gt;i don't want to love anybody&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="1f8t" class="h8iICe"&gt;i don't want anybody to love me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="1f8s" class="h8iICe"&gt;i'm soooo tired&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="1f8r" class="h8iICe"&gt;and frustrated&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="1f8q" class="h8iICe"&gt;and crying right now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="1f8p" class="h8iICe"&gt;i don't want to talk to them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="1f8o" class="h8iICe"&gt;i don't want them to talk to me&lt;br /&gt;i had enough of playing mind games...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8dHUfy_YBps&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8dHUfy_YBps&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this song is powerful...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-4917540056919220822?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/4917540056919220822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=4917540056919220822&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4917540056919220822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4917540056919220822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-wanna-be-nice-naive-again-i-want.html' title=''/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8844206558639677452</id><published>2008-04-03T18:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T20:05:35.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk to me, Chris!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jBEYyHGbwto&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jBEYyHGbwto&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right... thanks, Chris!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooooohhhhh... and you! Shut uuuuup! Shuuuut up, pleaaaseee! Stop getting under my skin. Stop!!! Why, I was stupid, right? But c'mon, I didn't know you were sooo obnoxious! Aaaarghhh, you make me tired! Geeeeet oooooooooooutt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fala a verdade, Daiana... o q q eu fiz pra merecer isso???&lt;br /&gt;taquei pedra na cruz?&lt;br /&gt;colei chiclete debaixo da mesa da santa ceia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas essa pessoa hein!! aaaaafeeee&lt;br /&gt;q nem falasse&lt;br /&gt;manda cata coquinho e emplihar na rua, numa descida!!&lt;br /&gt;ai assim fica ocupado e nao enche mais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;como dizem aqui...&lt;br /&gt;(expletive) doce do (expletive), (expletive)&lt;br /&gt;preencha as lacunas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu respondi "I don't even know..."&lt;br /&gt;vamos ver se agora cala a boca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pois eh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shut your gob, bubbles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahaha&lt;br /&gt;acho q so assim ele se toca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ta (expletive)&lt;br /&gt;acho q so mandando tomar no (expletive) adianta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;exato!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;noossa, eu to mto mal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;use the f word w/him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(really away) Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quoting o grande Roberto Jefferson: "Vossa Excelência provoca em mim os instintos mais primitivos"&lt;br /&gt;tah, fala do seu dia, enough de falar (expletive)...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8844206558639677452?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8844206558639677452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8844206558639677452&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8844206558639677452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8844206558639677452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/talk-to-me-chris.html' title='Talk to me, Chris!'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8659624059189120054</id><published>2008-04-03T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T19:59:52.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dengue In Rio, by Washington Post</title><content type='html'>Mto chiqueeee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="padding-left: 10px;"&gt; &lt;h1&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Brazil's Military Mobilizes Against Dengue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt; &lt;h2 style="margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Outbreak Leaves 67 Dead, Sickens Tens of Thousands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt; &lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/js/article_slideshow_v2.js?20080213b"&gt;&lt;/script&gt; &lt;div id="slideWrapper" style="display: block;"&gt;&lt;div id="inner"&gt;&lt;dl id="layer1" class="slideOn"&gt;&lt;div class="slide"&gt; &lt;img style="opacity: 1;" src="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2008/04/03/PH2008040301251.jpg" alt="Luis Henrique de Oliveira Monge, 6, sits inside an emergency treatment center with about 20 other people suffering from dengue fever. After he began feeling feverish this week, his mother, Maria Jose de Oliveira, background, drove him to an overcrowded hospital that referred him to the emergency treatment center. About 500 people seeking treatment each day have visited the center, which is one of several recently established in Rio de Janeiro." border="0" height="270" width="318" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="caption"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luis Henrique de Oliveira Monge, 6, sits inside an emergency treatment center with about 20 other people suffering from dengue fever. After he began feeling feverish this week, his mother, Maria Jose de Oliveira, background, drove him to an overcrowded hospital that referred him to the emergency treatment center. About 500 people seeking treatment each day have visited the center, which is one of several recently established in Rio de Janeiro. &lt;span class="credit"&gt; (By Fred Alves for The Washington Post) &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;&lt;span id="PH2008040301251"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;dl id="layer2" class="slideOff"&gt;&lt;span id="PH2008040300095"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="slide"&gt; &lt;img src="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2008/04/03/PH2008040300095.jpg" alt="A child receives medical treatment, after being diagnosed with dengue fever, in a temporary shelter set up by the Air Force in Rio de Janeiro April 2, 2008. The mortality rate from the hemorrhagic form of dengue fever in the Brazilian city of Rio de Janeiro has exceeded rates considered acceptable in the world, Health Minister Jose Temporao said." style="position: relative; top: 18px; opacity: 1;" border="0" height="234" width="350" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="caption"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A child receives medical treatment, after being diagnosed with dengue fever, in a temporary shelter set up by the Air Force in Rio de Janeiro April 2, 2008. The mortality rate from the hemorrhagic form of dengue fever in the Brazilian city of Rio de Janeiro has exceeded rates considered acceptable in the world, Health Minister Jose Temporao said. &lt;span class="credit"&gt; (Bruno Domingos - Reuters) &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/dl&gt; &lt;dl id="layer3" class="slideOff"&gt;&lt;span id="PH2008040300090"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="slide"&gt; &lt;img src="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2008/04/03/PH2008040300090.jpg" alt="People suffering from dengue fever wait to board an Air Force bus to go to a field hospital set up by the Air Force in Rio de Janeiro, April 1, 2008. Dengue is a viral disease spread by the Aedes aegypti mosquito and there is no vaccine or drug for it. Last week, Health Minister Jose Temporao blamed a poor disease prevention network and fragile public health system for the crisis." style="position: relative; top: 18px; opacity: 1;" border="0" height="233" width="350" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="caption"&gt;People suffering from dengue fever wait to board  an Air Force bus to go to a field hospital set up by the Air Force in Rio de Janeiro, April 1, 2008. Dengue is a viral disease spread by the Aedes aegypti mosquito and there is no vaccine or drug for it. Last week, Health Minister Jose Temporao blamed a poor disease prevention network and fragile public health system for the crisis. &lt;span class="credit"&gt; (Sergio Moraes - Reuters/Sergio Moraes) &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/dl&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;script&gt;slideshow_init(["PH2008040301251","PH2008040300095","PH2008040300090"],slideshow,"http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content");&lt;/script&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;div id="byline"&gt;By &lt;a href="http://projects.washingtonpost.com/staff/email/monte+reel/" title="Send an e-mail to Monte Reel"&gt;Monte Reel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; Washington Post Foreign Service&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, April 3, 2008; Page A08 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt; RIO DE JANEIRO -- Brazilian military troops joined public health workers this week to battle the deadliest outbreak of dengue fever to hit this city, which in recent years has been the epicenter of the disease's resurgence throughout &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/related/topic/Latin+America?tid=informline" target=""&gt;Latin America&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;script&gt; &lt;!-- var rn = ( Math.round( Math.random()*10000000000 ) ); document.write('&lt;s\cript src="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/story/2008/04/03/ST2008040301262_Items.js?'+rn+'"&gt;&lt;/s\cript&gt;') ; document.write('&lt;s\cript src="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/04/02/AR2008040203244_StoryJs.js?'+rn+'"&gt;&lt;/s\cript&gt;') ; // --&gt; &lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/story/2008/04/03/ST2008040301262_Items.js?3972709071"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/04/02/AR2008040203244_StoryJs.js?3972709071"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;  &lt;p&gt; Officials confirmed Tuesday that 67 people have died here from the mosquito-borne virus. Tens of thousands of people have been sickened, and many of the most serious cases -- including the majority of the fatalities -- have been children. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;More than 1,200 military personnel arrived in Rio this week to spray insecticide in hard-hit neighborhoods and erect emergency hospital tents. At some of those tents, Brazilians were expressing anger over the government's failure to take preventive action sooner. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;"I think that the state and municipal governments here were irresponsible in the way they handled this, because they didn't do anything until the problem was already out of control," said Isabel Belo, 35, whose ill 11-year-old daughter was hooked up to an IV bag. "Now, everyone is just trying to pass the blame around to someone else." &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;According to dengue experts, the outbreak can be largely attributed to the rise of hundreds of unplanned, densely populated shantytowns in Rio. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; Wellington Sun, chief of the dengue branch for the &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/related/topic/Centers+for+Disease+Control+and+Prevention?tid=informline" target=""&gt;U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention&lt;/a&gt;, said the demographic shifts that turned Latin America from mostly rural to predominantly urban in recent decades have given the dengue-carrying mosquito a perfect environment in which to thrive. The mosquito needs only a tiny amount of standing water to breed -- even a piece of crumpled plastic garbage is enough, Sun said. Eliminating breeding pools is very difficult in areas where trash collection is infrequent and water and sewer services are lax. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; "The mosquito -- &lt;i&gt;Aedes aegypti&lt;/i&gt;-- has found a very favorable environment in cities where there has been fast growth without the corresponding infrastructure," said Jarbas Barbosa, a Brazilian doctor who is the head of health surveillance and disease management for the Pan-American Health Organization. "In a lot of neighborhoods in Rio, for example, they store water on their houses because they don't have 24-hour, seven-days-a-week water service." &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Between the 1950s and the 1980s, dengue was practically unknown throughout the Americas, as it had been successfully eradicated in many tropical countries through intensive insecticide efforts. But after those efforts were relaxed, the mosquito that carries dengue and yellow fever reappeared in most of the countries where it had been eliminated. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/related/topic/Rio+de+Janeiro?tid=informline" target=""&gt;Rio de Janeiro&lt;/a&gt; has emerged as a main breeding ground. Serious dengue outbreaks hit the city in 1986, 1995 and 2002, but this year's has proved more lethal. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Children ages 5 to 12 are showing the most severe symptoms. They have accounted for about 40 of the confirmed deaths, according to officials. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;At one emergency tent in a southern neighborhood of this city, about 500 people -- many of whom had been referred to the tent by overwhelmed hospitals -- arrived Sunday for blood count tests that can help detect the likelihood of dengue exposure. Maj. Wilson Braz, a fire department medic overseeing the tent, said most were children. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Like Belo, many parents of those children have criticized public officials for not acting until the fatalities began to multiply in recent weeks. Now the city is covered with advertisements reminding people to use repellent and eliminate standing water, and health officials are aggressively spraying neighborhoods and standing water pools. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; Brazilian President Luiz Inacio &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/related/topic/Luiz+Inacio+Lula+da+Silva?tid=informline" target=""&gt;Lula da Silva&lt;/a&gt; said Monday that all Brazilians, not just the local officials who are catching most of the criticism, share responsibility for the situation. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;"It's the responsibility of the president, the governor, the mayor and each resident of this country," Lula said. "If we don't clean up the water in our home, our street, our city, our state, we will all be victims of irresponsibility. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8659624059189120054?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8659624059189120054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8659624059189120054&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8659624059189120054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8659624059189120054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/dengue-in-rio-by-washington-post.html' title='Dengue In Rio, by Washington Post'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-5751534992821927083</id><published>2008-04-02T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T18:01:17.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>India</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y9_Dk_F98cU&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y9_Dk_F98cU&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa tambem...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-5751534992821927083?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/5751534992821927083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=5751534992821927083&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5751534992821927083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5751534992821927083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/india.html' title='India'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8086670841026211715</id><published>2008-04-02T08:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T08:49:11.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Australia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://hypem.com/track/429386"&gt;The Shins - Australia (Peter Bjorn &amp;amp; John Remix)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vai bombar na festa...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8086670841026211715?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8086670841026211715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8086670841026211715&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8086670841026211715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8086670841026211715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/australia.html' title='Australia'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6111195755202338431</id><published>2008-04-02T07:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T07:34:38.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can finally say it</title><content type='html'>- List 20 things you want to say but never had the guts to say it.&lt;br /&gt;- Don't say who they are for.&lt;br /&gt;- Feel free to comment, but don't confirm or answer anything.&lt;br /&gt;- Never discuss it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 – I want to write a book and it’s gonna have you all over it. Would you let me do it? It’s for the sake of art, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 – I don’t think you are a good mentor. Your ego is too big. So when you advise me, you do it to get recognition, you don’t worry about me that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 – I hate it when you keep wanting me to commit a bunch of sins or something, so you can either call me a hypocrite or proudly say how wrong I were before and say that only if I’m a drinking slut I can fit into society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 – I don’t want to be ashamed of my beliefs. I know it’s a harder way to live, and for that I should be encouraged and not avoided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 – It really hurt a lot the fact that I could not have you. And you were by my side all along. It was a kind of pain I had never felt before, and I can still fell some of it inside my heart. But I should say, it made me feel alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 – I waste a lot of time. ‘Cause I’m lazy and clueless. And there’s nothing I need to so bad I’m willing to fight for. That’s really embarrassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 – I don’t like when you want to know what I’m doing all the time. I also think we spend too much time talking to each other. I’m sorry but there come a time when we run out of things to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 – I think you made a huge mistake with that guy. You thought it was a good idea but only because you set your mind to it. You wanted someone so badly you ended up hurt by a douchebag like that. And know you jumped into another one… are you sure that’s the right thing for you? I love you and I want to protect you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 – I see you’re always getting lucky. I want to know your secret. Soooo bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 – I’m the best (or worst) stalker you’ll ever meet. But don’t worry, I’m harmless. The data I collect only fuels my own wandering mind…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11 – You got me completely wrong. Maybe it was kinda my fault. I was so nervous. I don’t know how to do this…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 – Maybe we wouldn’t match at all but I would like to have the oportunity to find that out. And you didn’t let me. That was stupid. I wish I could ask you for one day. Just one day we could go out and walk and talk and get to know each other. Luckily we would kiss a lil bit too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 – You guys had a crush on each other!!! Right in front of me!! That was so bizarre! I was jealous of course but it was sorta interesting to pick up what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 – Why don’t you reach out for me? But you know what? I simply can’t beg anymore. It’s a mistake to let a man know he’s valuable – it spoils him rotten! You need someone that breaks your heart really bad, then you’ll realize you shouldn’t keep people that likes you on queue while you feed them crumbs of your attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 – I tried to fit, but I’m a social train wreck. I hate to stand there just looking, while anyone even notices I’m there. I miss having people that cares about me around. People that ask, people that are interested in hearing me, in getting to know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 – I have no idea of my future. And I hate that. Someone please help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 – USA is the land of the opportunity for americans. You guys don’t know the good life y’all have. For God sakes, DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE WITH IT! Don’t waste that chance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18 – I’m really starting to think my heart will never beat inside someone else’s. And though you might think this is just teenage angst, silly drama, crazy talking, I say: nothing in my life feels so sure but this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 – I want to help you. But you’re so CLUELESS!! I honestly don’t know anyone more complicated. You always get yourself in trouble and looks like you don’t learn from it. But I can only do so much, or say so much. What can I do to get into you? Seems like nothing I say gets through. You need to grow up. Pronto! But you are also very very sweet. And I envy you sometimes, because you always have fun. You’re crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 – I love you so bad. Do you love me even a little? Will you forget me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6111195755202338431?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6111195755202338431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6111195755202338431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6111195755202338431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6111195755202338431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-can-finally-say-it.html' title='I can finally say it'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-5064192635954282273</id><published>2008-04-01T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T19:15:26.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fool's Day</title><content type='html'>Trying to stop being a fool... I'm a learning organization...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://hypem.com/track/168177"&gt;Muse - Feeling Good&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%27http://www.fabulist.org/archives/2006/09/you_know_how_i.html%27"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-5064192635954282273?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/5064192635954282273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=5064192635954282273&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5064192635954282273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5064192635954282273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/04/fools-day.html' title='Fool&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-3425884467556656502</id><published>2008-03-31T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T07:50:23.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WeberCast #5 - Cherry Blossom Festival</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/r63h27gSDNk&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/r63h27gSDNk&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-3425884467556656502?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/3425884467556656502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=3425884467556656502&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3425884467556656502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3425884467556656502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/webercast-5-cherry-blossom-festival.html' title='WeberCast #5 - Cherry Blossom Festival'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7863369072363957763</id><published>2008-03-31T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T07:09:22.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cherry Blossom Girl</title><content type='html'>To set the mood for the Cherry Blossom Festival:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://hypem.com/track/518466"&gt;Air - Cherry Blossom Girl&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pics speak for themselves...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5183735840342751874"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R_BUSD0XOoI/AAAAAAAAJVc/LQzcHJecpTs/s400/Blossoms%20036.JPG.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5183735896177326786"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R_BUVT0XOsI/AAAAAAAAJV8/YvH8HuxuGUs/s400/Blossoms%20051.JPG.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5183736063681051506"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R_BUfD0XO3I/AAAAAAAAJXY/cIqq5TvvwKw/s400/Blossoms%20073.JPG.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5183736085155888018"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R_BUgT0XO5I/AAAAAAAAJXs/2oWLxXWIk3s/s400/Blossoms%20080.JPG.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5183736209709939746"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R_BUnj0XPCI/AAAAAAAAJY0/hrlgL5eCcOM/s400/Blossoms%20106.JPG.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5183736252659612770"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R_BUqD0XPGI/AAAAAAAAJZY/pSFYE0iUiOA/s400/Blossoms%20181.JPG.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5183736256954580082"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R_BUqT0XPHI/AAAAAAAAJZg/gbWVFZSxW5I/s400/Blossoms%20183.JPG.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5183736394393533730"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R_BUyT0XPSI/AAAAAAAAJa8/Id4fllPCsdk/s400/Blossoms%20235.JPG.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7863369072363957763?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7863369072363957763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7863369072363957763&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7863369072363957763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7863369072363957763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/cherry-blossom-girl.html' title='Cherry Blossom Girl'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6006300991407287931</id><published>2008-03-29T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T18:58:28.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WeberCast #4 - On American Bikinis</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2MAbkDYVaSc&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2MAbkDYVaSc&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verão chegando dá nisso...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6006300991407287931?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6006300991407287931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6006300991407287931&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6006300991407287931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6006300991407287931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/webercast-4-on-american-bikinis.html' title='WeberCast #4 - On American Bikinis'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2441767071456037947</id><published>2008-03-20T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T20:01:29.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mash-ups</title><content type='html'>Seriously, I'm addicted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=8,0,18,0" width="325" height="28" id="divmp3"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=3759135-0e8"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=3759135-0e8" width="325" height="28" name="divmp3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soulja Boy + Toxic, ska version!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2441767071456037947?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2441767071456037947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2441767071456037947&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2441767071456037947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2441767071456037947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/mash-ups.html' title='Mash-ups'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-831900331063096235</id><published>2008-03-20T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T12:10:35.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Domingo de Ramos na Times Square</title><content type='html'>Taí o vídeo da procissão de Domingo de Ramos na Times Square, NY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/obkjcLLmSkU&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/obkjcLLmSkU&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adoro a minha própria frase: "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A vida da Daiana deve ser um carnaval eterno!&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-831900331063096235?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/831900331063096235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=831900331063096235&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/831900331063096235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/831900331063096235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/domingo-de-ramos-na-times-square.html' title='Domingo de Ramos na Times Square'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7136684763352860432</id><published>2008-03-19T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T10:06:27.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NY one more time</title><content type='html'>O que fazer em NY às 5 da matina? Eu e Daiana desembarcamos do busão chinês, NY escura e chuvosa, e sim, estava dormindo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andamos até encontrar um Starbucks 24 horas, tomamos um café e sem ter o que fazer, caminhamos até o &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Central Park&lt;/span&gt;. Mesmo nublado, o Central Park é fofíssimo. Um milhão de cachorros e seus donos esquisitos, galera guerreira fazendo cooper... Conseguimos ver muito do que não tínhamos visto antes, como a Bethesda Fountain, Strawberry Fields, Belvedere Castle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179457337131122130"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R-EhAZT9vdI/AAAAAAAAJFQ/PRNOGdi76vY/s288/ny_031508%20008.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179457680728506114"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R-EhUZT9vwI/AAAAAAAAJHs/CFw_GeU5DkQ/s288/ny_031508%20050.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179458015735955378"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R-Ehn5T9v7I/AAAAAAAAJJI/0RFYvdbjots/s288/ny_031508%20067.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De lá, fomos andando até a Times Square pra descolar &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ingressos com descontão&lt;/span&gt; pra algum show da Brodway. Wicked e Lion King tudo caro e esgotado :-( Filona mas até que anda rápido, pessoal no frenesi. Eu tinha comentado de pegar Avenue Q ou Spamalot e comentei do Altar Boys, um musical off-Broadway que parecia ser legalzinho. Na hora, no meio da fila, eu tentando resgatar o dinheiro perdido na meia (ainda não perco essa mania carioca), a gente não conseguiu se decidir e acabamos pegando Altar Boyz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De lá pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Empire State&lt;/span&gt;, uma fila enoooorme e vários check-points labirínticos pelo prédio. Sério, eu tava me sentindo gado. Uma demora pra chegar lá em cima... mas é muito legal. A gente tava com medo de nçao dar visibilidade, mas até lá melhorou o tempo. Tava lindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179289506989062354"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R-CIXZT9uNI/AAAAAAAAI6A/Za4NsrSV3lU/s288/P1030942.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179458209009483890"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R-EhzJT9wHI/AAAAAAAAJKs/HZjW70-0lNU/s288/ny_031508%20133.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179289541348800754"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R-CIZZT9uPI/AAAAAAAAI6Q/CneDjGqSXsA/s288/P1030945.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De lá direto de volta pra Broadway, parada numa imitação do Gray's Papaya pra uns hot dog firrrmeza. Daiana para pra tirar foto com alguém vestido de Elmo, tsc tsc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Altar Boyz&lt;/span&gt;!!! História de uma boy-band pop católica, sendo que um é judeu e outro é meio fruta. Não parecia que ia decolar, mar foi muuuuito booom. Os caras são ótimos. Luke era o tipo "mano" burrinho ("I DRIVE THE VAAAAAAN, YOO!", Abraham o judeu inteligente e letrista da banda, Mark o frutinha, Juan o latino e &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Matthew&lt;/span&gt;... aaaaaaaaah Matthew!!! O líder e o cara mais maravilhoso que eu já vi, muito, muito lindo, que sorriso, que voz, que tudo... ele era todo perfeito! Eu e a Daiana passamos maaaaal. Ele cantando "Girl, you make me wanna wait" foi pricelesssss!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fora esse aspecto, a peça é muito engraçada, as músicas e coreografias ótimas. Great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179289906421021442"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R-CIupT9uwI/AAAAAAAAI-k/A10UixtVuag/s288/P1040035.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foto de longe estilo papparazi pq não podia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De lá, na dúvida se íamos pro Met ou pro Village. Já estávamos no Central Park e decidimos ir pro &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Village&lt;/span&gt;. Pegamos o metrô e rodamos por lá. O Village é muito fofo. Os apartamentos antigos (achamos o apê dos &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friends&lt;/span&gt;!), os restaurantes, as lojas, um clima bem mais low-profile, mas sendo high. Comemos num mexicano todo chique andamos por lá à beça. Indiscritível como estávamos cansadas, as nossas batatas da perna assando já... Pegamos metrô pro hostel (cheio, a Daiana não conseguiu entrar no vagão e a gente se separou! Sorte que ela recebeu a minha mensagem e nos encontramos na estação da Times Square, uffaaa!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179290000910302066"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R-CI0JT9u3I/AAAAAAAAI_c/ndVbVFmAYhw/s288/P1040047.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179290073924746194"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R-CI4ZT9u9I/AAAAAAAAJAQ/bJMS9sRamT0/s288/P1040058.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179290086809648098"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R-CI5JT9u-I/AAAAAAAAJAY/TJ-cBZK9I2M/s288/P1040061.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda tinha que andar até o hostel e cara, tava difícil... muita, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;muita dor, muito cansaço&lt;/span&gt;. Dormir pra recarregar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umas das meninas lá tinha um alarme às 7 da matina que ficou tocando mó tempão. Eu acordei toda crabby e mandei um "What the hexagon is THAT?". Depois queria até rir da minha rabugentice, hahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De lá, andamos pelo Central Park mais uma vez pra ir no TKTS (o lugar que vende tickets com desconto) pra ver se pegávamos &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Avenue Q &lt;/span&gt;e conseguimos. Aaaaah, e na Times Square ainda nos achamos em meio a uma procissão de domingo de Ramos!!! No meio da Times Square mesmo! Com incenso e pessoal com Ramos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179290116874419202"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R-CI65T9vAI/AAAAAAAAJAo/pEtDaW2qw64/s288/P1040064.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De lá pensamos em ir pro MET, mas não ia dar muito tempo então resolvemos ir atrás no pedaço do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Muro de Berlin&lt;/span&gt;. Eu passei tanto a mão pelo muro tentando achar um lugar onde podia tirar uma lasca que uma tia veio perguntar deu era Geóloga, algo assim... Sem um martelo não dá, fui na unha mesmo e tirei uma &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lasca&lt;/span&gt; pequenina, mas é MINHA! Meu pedaço de História. Que eu peguei. Com. As. Minhas. Próprias. Mãos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179458307793731794"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R-Eh45T9wNI/AAAAAAAAJLg/OqutQPwS6pM/s288/ny_031508%20207.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179458367923273970"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R-Eh8ZT9wPI/AAAAAAAAJLw/kouGAbbYQXI/s288/ny_031508%20212.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInAmericaStillEvenMore/photo#5179290288673111234"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R-CJE5T9vMI/AAAAAAAAJCM/HUXxBiRDgXc/s288/P1040100.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É (mais uma) pra eu aprender que se vc quer algo, do it and get it yourself, pq por mais que seja maravilhoso ser considerada, simplesmente não dá pra contar com muita gente nowadays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No princes out there, just prices.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaa, adorei o slogan q acabei de criar! Vou submeter no &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Threadless&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De lá pra Broadway pra ver Avenue Q. Bem legal, mas todas as músicas com &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Parental Advisory&lt;/span&gt;! É uma mistura de atores e bonecos de fantoche tipo Sesame Street. A gente vê os atores manipulando e é incrível a atuação, a técnica, sem falar nas músicas que são ótimas, ótimas vozes, todos eram perfeitos. Quem produziu fez a peça com um planejamento de espaço maravilhoso, os atores em sincronia, era extremamente criativo. Enfim, uma produção mais Broadway. Essa peça ganhou o Tony Award em 2005!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É a história de Princeton, um jovem recém saído da faculdade que vai parar em NY e quer achar seu propósito na vida (oooopsss). Lá ele acha uns amigos muito doidos. Aliás, a peça é muito doida, só deixa eu dizer quer tem cenas quentes entre fantoches pra pra ter uma idéia, hehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De lá, correndo pro &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MET&lt;/span&gt;, pra visitar rapidinho antes de dar a hora de ir embora. Acabou que quando chegamos lá, depois de 10 minutos eles avisam que iam fechar! Hááááá!!! Talk about bad luck! Mas foi melhor, pq já tava na hora de ir embora! Então a gente entra no primeiro busão que vê, o cara parando em todos os pontos e todos os sinais vermelhos, mas quando abria ele saía tacando a mão na buzina alucinadamente! Acho que ele sentiu que a gente tava com pressa. Aí resolvemos pular fora e correr os 8 blocos que faltavam e lá fomos nós. Vimos o busão da Eastern e entramos, esbaforidas e roxas de tanto correr. O busão tava vazio e a gente não entendeu direito. Acabou que ele ainda parou em Chinatown (ainda tomou uma multa), ainda voltou pro mesmo ponto na Penn Station. Pelo menos a gente estava sentada, descansada e ganhamos tour pela cidade, vimos a Manhattan e Brooklyn Bridge, Chinatown... foi um bom tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas e o nervoso de não chegar em casa a tempo de pegar o metrô. Mas chegamos. Parada crítica no Golden Arches pra reabastecer. Parada na casa da Daiana pra ela tomar banho e pegar a outra mala dela de São Francisco... sim, ela está indo pra São Francisco!!! Depois de tudo isso. Ainda chegamos em casa, o Mason louquíssimo latindo às 2 da matina. Tomei banho ainda e só fui dormir às 3 am!! Mason e Daiana já no sétimo  sono. E aí acordar às 6 pra levar a Daiana no aeroporto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tireeeeeeed... but it was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;p.s.: WeberCasts coming!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7136684763352860432?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7136684763352860432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7136684763352860432&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7136684763352860432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7136684763352860432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/ny-one-more-time.html' title='NY one more time'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6938247316464653869</id><published>2008-03-14T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T09:34:46.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Natalia, by Greg</title><content type='html'>"loving au pair, confuse college undergraduate student, trying to figure out her life, help us with our lives, cooking, laundry, basically help us function - dog sitter and decoration advisor."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6938247316464653869?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6938247316464653869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6938247316464653869&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6938247316464653869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6938247316464653869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/natalia-by-greg.html' title='Natalia, by Greg'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7741103129296412014</id><published>2008-03-13T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T16:35:15.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A volta das 2 lost brazilians!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Happy St. Patrick's Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wtPNxolQ3HQ&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wtPNxolQ3HQ&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7741103129296412014?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7741103129296412014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7741103129296412014&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7741103129296412014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7741103129296412014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/volta-das-2-lost-brazilians.html' title='A volta das 2 lost brazilians!!!!!'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-1412909053303785817</id><published>2008-03-12T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T19:58:28.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WeberCast #3 e Bonus-Track: WeberCast #4!</title><content type='html'>Para os que tiverem paciência em grande quantidade (ou muito amor pela minha pessoa... rss).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Straight from Philly!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wTO6Gq7ToV0&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wTO6Gq7ToV0&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BONUS-TRAAAAACK!!! Pedra, Pepel, Tesoura, Água e Fogo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jr321VvGmNQ&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jr321VvGmNQ&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e essa foi a nossa inspiração:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/o_xH__mg03w&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/o_xH__mg03w&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENJOOOY!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-1412909053303785817?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/1412909053303785817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=1412909053303785817&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1412909053303785817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1412909053303785817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/webercast-3-e-bonus-track-webercast-4.html' title='WeberCast #3 e Bonus-Track: WeberCast #4!'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-9154282932171495843</id><published>2008-03-11T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T20:08:11.817-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Proveb of the day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Every morning a lion wakes up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It know it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It doesn't matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When the sun comes up, you better start running.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-9154282932171495843?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/9154282932171495843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=9154282932171495843&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/9154282932171495843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/9154282932171495843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/proveb-of-day.html' title='Proveb of the day'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8404159944914686904</id><published>2008-03-07T14:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T06:34:49.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what I need</title><content type='html'>I feel so happy my test is in the past right now. Of course I have like, three (3!) more to come, but I don't want to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel the whole anger and lack of direction in my life slipping out of me. They still exist, but I know I can recover for this. I spent a rainy afternoon reading a good book, and it can be just escapism, but it does inspires me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to believe that I'm making the right thing, and that some things are meant to be, and meant to be wonderful. That some matches and moves are made in haven, that I should not worry, I should not jump into conclusions and end up messing the whole thing. I should not try to be in control of everything, because, though sometimes I can predict disasters pretty well, life is still crazy and it can surprise me in an wonderful way. I just pray for this to happen, I need to know that this crooked street (hello, Lombard!) will take me to sheer&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; bliss&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to find out the brazilian within me. I'm tired of being american, I'm tired of being german, I'm tired of not-belonging. There is something great I carry and I want to rescue what belongs to me by right. My brazilianess, not ashamed of being nice, of showing feelings. I don't want to slip into this strange bichty-snapping-badass sense of humor of them, this is not me. I'm all smiles, all nice words, I'm all "can't we get along, tell me your middle name, how was you as a kid, what do you like to hear?"... and though it doesn't bring me many, it brings me much. Inside my heart, I store beautiful moments of laughters, sing-songs, dances, confessions, hugs. They are so  rare, so &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;precious&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just desperately needs to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;allowed&lt;/span&gt; into those moments, to keep collecting this things, again, for my sanity, for my cure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.: I can believe the woman found a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;brazilian&lt;/span&gt; boyfriend, of all nationalities!!!! A piece of me, in the book:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Maybe this is some stupid romantic South American idea, but I need you to understand - darling, for you, I am even willing to suffer. Whatever pain happens to us in the future, I accept it already, just for the pleasure of being with you now. Let's enjoy this time. It's marvelous."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8404159944914686904?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8404159944914686904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8404159944914686904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8404159944914686904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8404159944914686904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-i-need.html' title='what I need'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-953087644538705420</id><published>2008-03-05T18:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T18:17:56.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I told ya...</title><content type='html'>I told you that, in case of emergency, you could come over here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-953087644538705420?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/953087644538705420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=953087644538705420&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/953087644538705420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/953087644538705420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-told-ya.html' title='I told ya...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-4463893560316300317</id><published>2008-03-05T17:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T17:46:34.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Soul meets body</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i0hTJF7xqV0"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i0hTJF7xqV0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I want to live where soul meets body&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; And let the sun wrap its arms around me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; And feel, feel what its like to be new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Cause in my head there’s a greyhound station&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; So they may have a chance of finding a place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; where they’re far more suited than here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; And I cannot guess what we'll discover&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; But I know our filthy hands can wash one another’s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; And not one speck will remain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; And I do believe it’s true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; That there are roads left in both of our shoes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; But if the silence takes you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Then I hope it takes me too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; So brown eyes I hold you near&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Cause you’re the only song I want to hear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt; A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-4463893560316300317?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/4463893560316300317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=4463893560316300317&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4463893560316300317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4463893560316300317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/soul-meets-body.html' title='Soul meets body'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6004031395044196437</id><published>2008-03-05T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T08:02:08.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't get enough...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BWqEn8RqEQc"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BWqEn8RqEQc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somebody said Fleetwood Mac? ehhehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6004031395044196437?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6004031395044196437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6004031395044196437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6004031395044196437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6004031395044196437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/cant-get-enough.html' title='Can&apos;t get enough...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-308034603582054665</id><published>2008-03-03T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T15:59:43.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WeberCast #2!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/n4x1AsKsXqE"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/n4x1AsKsXqE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daiana e Natalia tentando estacionar o carro... tudo pq a gente só queria andar de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;bicicleta&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tsc, tsc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.: Reparem no celular tocando no final... era a PRISCILA!!! Yaaaaaay!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-308034603582054665?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/308034603582054665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=308034603582054665&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/308034603582054665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/308034603582054665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/03/webercast-2.html' title='WeberCast #2!!!'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7557347338344489970</id><published>2008-02-27T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T18:29:11.489-08:00</updated><title type='text'>About the Dancy Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;na tua festa esse ano vai ser O hit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;me aguarde, eu vou discotecar em outubro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so vai dar Delfin, funk da tropa, kate bush&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;scatman pra relembrar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e mc hammer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;funk do iutubiu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;do jeremias&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Priscila: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;SIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vc vai ser a DJ, vou deixar na tua mão uhauhauhauha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Confio no teu gosto musical!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;aguarde e confieeee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Priscila:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;AEEEEEEEEEE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;poxa, sabia q aquela festa em 2006 eu só fiz por sua causa??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;eu nem ia fazer festchenha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;vc me incentivou uhauha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; tanto q em 2007 eu nem fiz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas 2008 vai bombá&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;claro, eh preciso de vez enquando poder dar uma de louca kate-bush-style com as amigas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;dancar musica q a gente gosta e naum um dj qualuqer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;poder fazer a danca da galinha sem ngm reparar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;falando nisso, esse sabado fui numa dance party lah em DC, mto legal seria, se o dj melhor fosse...&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;mas americano se empolgando eh mto engracado, cara...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas serio, eu tava quase me oferecendo pra ir lah djeiar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  Priscila: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;uhauhauhauhahuauhuhauha]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;o q q ele tocou???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;sabe aquilo que parece q vai decolar, mas num vai.. e o cara tocou umas musicas mto nada a ver, legais, mas nada a ver... sei lah. na festa q eu vou dar aqui vai ser diresponsa... e aih jah levo pra tocar aih em outubro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;era pra ser uma festa com indie stuff, brit pop, 80's...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas mal tocou New Order, 2 do blur&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tocou 1 do michael jackson... ou melhor 2... umas musicas meio desconhecidas, q naum dava pra dancar assim mto bem&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;po 1 SO do Junior Senior!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;se fosse eu mandava o hey hey my my yo yo inteiro q o pessoal ia se acabar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nada de indie stuff&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;mas o pessoal sabia todas as musicas, dancavam empolgadao&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ce tinha q ver as figuracas q pintou!... serio... era de rolar de rir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Priscila: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Sério??? Poooooooo, tenho vontade de ir pros USA só pra ir numas festas sem noçaum assim!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;O pessoal sabia todas as indie stuff????&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Priscila: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;webiiiiiiiiinhaaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Priscila:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;vc tirou fotas da festa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;po, nao, vacilei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;mas vai q o povo ficava bolado q eu tirei foto deles?? rsss&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Priscila: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;ah, nada a ver... a festa é publica, finge q tu tah fotografando a festa hehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;como o pessoal se comportava na festa? faça sua análise antropológica&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Priscila:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;caraca, to com vontade de rever o DVD Ploc 80 e ver a ROSANA DIVAAA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;oieeee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;analise antropologica?? eh o q eu mais faco&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;primeiro q o pessoal bebe a beca, mas isso pessoal faz aih tb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas eles naum chgam nas pessoas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;onde eu fui pelo menos naum, mas eu sei q outras boates o pessoal danca se pegando&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Priscila:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;aí nos states o pessoal dança se pegando??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;sei la, era td bem tranquilo, sem neurose, sem briga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;SIM&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pessoal fica horrorizado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;eles naum sabem dancar, aih se esfregam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Priscila:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;nossa, pensei q isso era só aqui hehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;naaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; eu tb, mas naum, desde q eu cheguei galera me fala disso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;olha so, Wikipedia eh cultura&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Grinding&lt;/span&gt; is a type of close partner dance where two or more dancers rub their bodies (especially the genitalia) against each other in a sexually suggestive manner. It is popular in the house and hip-hop dance styles. It is often performed at nightclubs and parties that play house and hip-hop music. It has also gained popularity at high school and middle school dances across the Western world, where there have been cases of administrators attempting to ban it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Priscila: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;cacilllllllllllllllllllllds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;ou seja, Castelo das Pedras-style!&lt;br /&gt;mas onde eu fui nao era assim, galera dancava toda desengoncada... mto comedia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Priscila: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;tem até nome rapá&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;uhauhauha, eu adoro festas q a galera dança desengonçada, eu me sinto em casa!&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;tinha uns carinha meio fruta q era mto comedias, eles dancavam e cantavam tao empolgados, parecia q o show era deles... hauhaua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;vc ia se sentir, era mto comedia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tinha um maluco lah, sozinho... ele foi e dancava mto, mass muiito&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;engracado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; se tivesse com a camera te mostrava&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e outro q era todo na paranoia, ele ficava em cima do palquinho de bracos cruzados olhando... de camisa branca e boina vermelha e oculos, era mto hilario, parecia o Wally&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Priscila: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;UHAUHAUHAUHAUHUHAUHAUHAUHAUHUHA QUERIA TER IDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; me:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;serio, so naum foi melhor pq eu tava com sono... e tb pq o dj decepcionou mto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7557347338344489970?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7557347338344489970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7557347338344489970&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7557347338344489970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7557347338344489970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/about-dancy-party.html' title='About the Dancy Party'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-779544501165208233</id><published>2008-02-26T06:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T06:54:50.954-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is friggin' sad...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eAwLYnIzj-g&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eAwLYnIzj-g&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw... For a while I can't do what I love to do... I can't write much, I can't type much. So many years being a nerd brought me physical pain, maybe that's why now I'm such a slacker... Book is building up in my head, I just want to start. And I'm probably getting a C on my next exam, things are getting tougher while I'm getting bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est la vie...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-779544501165208233?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/779544501165208233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=779544501165208233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/779544501165208233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/779544501165208233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-is-friggin-sad.html' title='This is friggin&apos; sad...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7580377163217912731</id><published>2008-02-23T21:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T21:43:05.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>no</title><content type='html'>I learned a long time ago&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;if it's yes or no&lt;br /&gt;what's important&lt;br /&gt;is to have an answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;And Daiana is going to Saaaaaaan Franciscooo... she's gonna wear some flowers in her hair...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is so ironic. Crazy but I love it, puts some flavor on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7580377163217912731?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7580377163217912731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7580377163217912731&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7580377163217912731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7580377163217912731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/no.html' title='no'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-4304401442925489102</id><published>2008-02-22T18:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T21:32:15.665-08:00</updated><title type='text'>manifesto</title><content type='html'>I want to stop thinking/ how great could it have been?/ I don't wanna think back to the one thing that I know I should have done/ I wanna hear the call of the mother ship/ I want to find myself/ wherever I may roam/ I wanna sail to the shore/ until I find/ gezellig/ maybe tomorrow/ I'll find my way home/ the more I wonder/ the more I wander/  Take a left/ A sharp left/  And another left/meet me on the corner/  And we'll start, again/I can see it with my own eyes/ I can touch it with my own hands/ I'm standing where history has been written/ and I wanna make my own/ I just wanna live/ and I will give you all my best thoughts/ Ich Liebe Dich/ Je t'aime/ 4 ever/ insert/ your/ name/ here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tAtcJ954TjQ&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tAtcJ954TjQ&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You quiver like a candle on fire&lt;br /&gt;I'm putting you out&lt;br /&gt;Maybe tonight we could be the last shout&lt;br /&gt;But I'm fascinated by your style&lt;br /&gt;Your beauty will last for a while&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're feeling instead of being&lt;br /&gt;The more that I live on the inside&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing to give&lt;br /&gt;I'm infatuated by your moves&lt;br /&gt;I've got to search hard for your clues&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to repair your desire&lt;br /&gt;And call it a gift&lt;br /&gt;That I stole from just wanting to live&lt;br /&gt;Now I see the vision through your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Your innocence no longer fuels surprise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to outrun your fear&lt;br /&gt;Running to lose&lt;br /&gt;Heart on your sleeve and your soul in your shoes&lt;br /&gt;Take a left,&lt;br /&gt;A sharp left&lt;br /&gt;And another left, meet me on the corner&lt;br /&gt;And we'll start, again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-4304401442925489102?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/4304401442925489102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=4304401442925489102&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4304401442925489102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4304401442925489102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/manifesto.html' title='manifesto'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-5458113466525617016</id><published>2008-02-21T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T21:34:02.997-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the killing moon</title><content type='html'>the moon was me&lt;br /&gt;i fought&lt;br /&gt;i cried&lt;br /&gt;i tried to pray&lt;br /&gt;i watched&lt;br /&gt;i wrote&lt;br /&gt;i lost my way&lt;br /&gt;i freezed&lt;br /&gt;i burned&lt;br /&gt;i held myself&lt;br /&gt;i sighed&lt;br /&gt;i thought&lt;br /&gt;i was going to hell&lt;br /&gt;the light in me was blocked&lt;br /&gt;by a shadow of sorrow&lt;br /&gt;and over me it walked&lt;br /&gt;only to make me hollow&lt;br /&gt;this shadow leaves me still&lt;br /&gt;it's taking too long to leave&lt;br /&gt;cold enough to kill&lt;br /&gt;cast away so i can live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5169467138658998690"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R72i-T3TGaI/AAAAAAAAIXg/tvJoZrW4BNE/s400/P1030472.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-5458113466525617016?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/5458113466525617016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=5458113466525617016&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5458113466525617016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5458113466525617016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/killing-moon.html' title='the killing moon'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-1213430906219952938</id><published>2008-02-18T10:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T11:05:42.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Se for a DC...</title><content type='html'>- Visite uns museus. O &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nacional de Arte&lt;/span&gt; tem uns Cèzzanes, Monets, Manets, Picassos, Van Goghs, Degas, moderno, barroco, pintura, escultura. O de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;História Natura&lt;/span&gt;l tem o show do U2 em 3D. E uma exposição de borboletas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Go &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ice-skating&lt;/span&gt; no Sculpture Garden, mas não espere pela Martha, ela dá bolo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Se comer no &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ruby Tuesday&lt;/span&gt;, cuidado ao pedir um prato com pasta. Eles podem não ter! E peça de sobremesa o Blondie: um brownie fantástico com sorvete de baunilha... só comendo pra saber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FINALMENTE O WEBCAST #1, por Natalia e Daiana: WAITING FOR ZAMBONI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8o7wDIXhk5A&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8o7wDIXhk5A&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-1213430906219952938?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/1213430906219952938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=1213430906219952938&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1213430906219952938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1213430906219952938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/se-for-dc.html' title='Se for a DC...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-4961689041970890111</id><published>2008-02-16T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T20:14:10.929-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living is a lost art...</title><content type='html'>Antes de começar já acusando os americanos de ser como são, eu também tenho que dar crédito aos meus compatriotas, e gente de todo mundo que simplesmente não sabe viver... Bom, não é que eu seja A unanimidade em vida animadex e tudo mais, mas eu me orgulho em saber aproveitar as coisas, ainda que pequenas, em sempre tentar tirar o máximo de cada situação e ver o mundo com esperança e alegria, mesmo que eu receba várias na cara on a daily basis...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque se você ficar se remoendo, aí que você não aproveita nada mesmo dessa vida única e frágil que Deus nos deu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então é, eu sou assim. Eu me divirto até com pouco, to sempre sorrindo, fazendo piada e se você não é assim, fiiiiiine. Mas poxa, querer matar a alegria dos outros é sacanagem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explicando... Daiana e eu finalmente arrumamos um dia pra ver o show do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;U2&lt;/span&gt; em&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 3D&lt;/span&gt; (Hannah Montana style, rsss). Saímos com antecedência, mas o tráfego tava complicado, a fome matava (parada crítica no Subway)... Peguei até a 66 pra cortar caminho (ooolha, tô aprendendo!! Nunca mais, dou a volta por Fairfax... pra quê!). Infelizmente perdemos o metrô e tivemos que esperar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabia que não ia dar pra chegar, mas a gente foi com esperança no coração de convencer a galera do box office a deixar a gente entrar na próxima sessão. (Taí que uns caras puxaram assunto com a gente no metrô: "se eu pegar esse trem eu paro no Canadá?" e "Vocês são brasileiras? De onde?" e ainda ficaram zoando quando a Daiana falou que era "do Sul". Era o começo da &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;douchebagaiada&lt;/span&gt;... eu ignorei como eles depois ignoraram, mas a Daiana se revoltou com o approach, coitada...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tá que a gente saiu correndo pelo The Mall até o Museu, o sanduba subiu pro cérebro, eu quase pondo tudo pra fora. Graças que o pessoal do box office nem se importou em trocar nossos tickets, nossa... já tava me preparando pra fazer um drama se eles encrencassem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esperando lá pra eles abrirem a porteira, só tô vendo o lobby se amontoar de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TIO&lt;/span&gt;. Ah, não cara, na boa... aquela galera mais devagar que ônibus escolar. Lá se vai a empolgação do evento. Claro que eu e a Daiana estávamos lá firme e forte praticamente decorando grito de guerra pra gritar quando o Bono aparecesse em 3D assim todo todo na nossa frente. O pessoal do theater também parecia animado, e veio até dar uma animada na platéia. Eu pensei: "Que decadência! Se o pesssoal que trabalha aqui tem que vir dar uma animada, só falta botar aquela plaquinha de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;APPLAUSE&lt;/span&gt;, que senão ninguém faz nada."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas, é tava nesse espírito aí mesmo... a gente mó empolgadaça (genteeeem, o Bono vem na sua cara e &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wipe your tears away&lt;/span&gt;... PRICELESS!). A Daiana mais empolgada ainda, percebendo que o carinha do seu lado só a torpedava com olhares julgadores. Aí eu vejo que ele tá falando com ela, e pergunto logo o que era. Ele disse: "this is a movie, not a show". Putzgrila, caaaaaara! Aí eu tenho que dar uma de loira burra e zoar com esse cara. Falei altão: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"BUT IT LOOKS JUST LIKE A SHOOOOOW!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na boa... esse pessoal não sabe viver... é tudo ASPIRA, nós somos CAVEIRA!!!! E podem beber o que for, nunca conseguem ter 1% da alegria que nós temos within us, que vem naturalmente!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas precisava ser o maior &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;killjoy&lt;/span&gt;?? Não se diverte e ainda quer tirar a alegria das pobres crianças. Sério que em nenhum momento ele cantarolou uma musiquinha sequer, ficou lá de braços cruzados sem mexer UM músculo, nem bater o pézinho. Ah não... Esse cara vai ter bad karma forever por ser such a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;douchebag&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E não era só ele, dando uma panorâmica se via o pessoal lá paradinho como se estivesse vendo "A Lista de Schindler". Não dá...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daiana até gravou um desabafo do fundo da alma. Enjoy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k_wLMzZCp90&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k_wLMzZCp90&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;é isso aí...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-4961689041970890111?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/4961689041970890111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=4961689041970890111&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4961689041970890111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4961689041970890111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/living-is-lost-art.html' title='Living is a lost art...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8565479411185578141</id><published>2008-02-15T07:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T07:27:34.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gifts from LIFE</title><content type='html'>First... the gift of bad luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the gift of absence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, the gift of misunderstanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the gift of guilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is thanks a lot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8565479411185578141?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8565479411185578141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8565479411185578141&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8565479411185578141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8565479411185578141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/gifts-from-life.html' title='Gifts from LIFE'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7893937854810793828</id><published>2008-02-11T07:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T07:23:14.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost in Translation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tropa de Elite &lt;/span&gt;está no Festival de Berlim... e o que já discutimos tanto será testado: Afinal, como traduzir o palavreado do filme? Como manter a ironia, como não prejudicar a delicada psiquê do nosso grande Capitão Nascimento??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse filme é praticamente um desafio lingüístico!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eis partes de uma reportagem do G1 sobre isso:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Pede pra sair' vira ‘ask to quit’ na estréia internacional de ‘Tropa’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Tropa de elite' é bem recebido pela crítica no Festival de Berlim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sob o título “The elite squad”, ”Tropa de elite” &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;não foi unanimidade&lt;/span&gt;, mas causou sensação no Festival de Berlim, onde estréia nesta segunda-feira (11). Apesar de os inesquecíveis bordões do Capitão Nascimento terem sido todos narrados ou traduzidos com neutralidade, a reação da crítica foi positiva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Exibido para a imprensa presente no evento na manhã desta segunda, “Tropa de elite” recebeu legendas em alemão e foi narrado em inglês, francês e espanhol por meio de fones de tradução simultânea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Não é preciso nem dizer que metade do charme do filme se perde na tradução. Pede para Sair virou "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ask to quit&lt;/span&gt;'. "O senhor é um moleque" virou "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you're punk&lt;/span&gt;”. A goiabada servida no quartel da polícia virou “fresh jelly” e “o fogueteiro” do tráfico virou “the boywatcher”. A essência do primeiro longa-metragem de ficção do diretor José Padilha não se perde. Já a piada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"O senhor é um fanfarrão" virou algo como "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you're buffon&lt;/span&gt;". Sem contar que a grande maioria de expressões que fazem do filme um dos mais citados do cinema brasileiro recente não foi simplesmente traduzida. Pudera, como traduzir, e narrar, ao mesmo tempo, expressões como “vaza”, “xaveco”, "caveira!" (o grito de guerra do Batalhão de Operações Especiais da Polícia do Rio era simplesmente ouvido, mas não houve como explicar para a platéia o que significava o tal grito toda vez que ele era repetido no filme?) e “nunca serão” (a provocação dos veteranos aos novatos virou um insosso "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;never will be&lt;/span&gt;”). Sem contar que "põe na conta do Papa' não tem a mínima graça quando traduzido para "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;on pope's account&lt;/span&gt;'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A narradora do filme em inglês se esforçou, mas como seguir o ritmo de "O Bope tem guerreiros que defendem o Brasil"? Ela até que tentou, mas sem a mesma empolgação dos pupilos do Capitão Nascimento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E para citar só mais algumas, digamos, lacunas da versão para o inglês, "pega o saco", "traz o saco para ele" (a “delicada” tática de persuasão usada pelo Bope no filme) virou "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;bring the plastic bag&lt;/span&gt;". Safado virou “asshole” e “quebra essa” virou “can you see my point”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A imprensa estrangeira, obviamente, não entendeu metade das tiradas hilárias do Capitão Nascimento, mas adorou a “&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cena da granada&lt;/span&gt;”, um dos pontos altos do filme dirigido por Padilha (que veio ao festival acompanhado dos atores Wagner Moura e Maria Ribeiro, do diretor de fotografia Lula Carvalho e do produtor Marcos Prado). Mesmo com o esforço dos narradores para acompanhar o pensamento frenético de Nascimento, muita gente não entendeu muito bem os diálogos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"O início é muito difícil. O capitão explica tantas coisas. E a ação acontece simultaneamente. Além disso, a versão em inglês foi narrada por uma mulher, e filme é quase todo masculino. Isso faz perder o impacto", reclamava um jornalista britânico ao fim da sessão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Houve quem discordasse. "Mas este filme é quase uma “didascalia” (legenda em italiano), ou seja, explica muita coisa. Sem a legenda e com narração por cima do que os personagens falam fica parecendo sessão do século passado. Prejudica sim", rebateu um italiano. "Não é culpa do filme, mas da estrutura de legendagem e narração", comentou um espanhol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Apesar dos percalços, a reação da imprensa durante a entrevista coletiva concedida por Padilha e sua equipe foi animada. O diretor afirmou não ter idéia de como o filme será recebido no festival, na Europa e, conseqüentemente, no exterior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Tem coisa que a gente não controla na vida. Uma delas é como seu filme vai ser recebido. Mas acho que vai ser visto de um jeito diferente, porque aqui na Europa o histórico cultural e a realidade são outros. Acho que 'Tropa' vai ser visto mais como um filme como qualquer outro e não como um assunto que deu margem a tanta discussão, como aconteceu no Brasil", comentou o diretor, que mostra o filme pela primeira vez fora do Brasil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Diretor e equipe ouviram as questões que também rondaram o filme em sua estréia brasileira. Houve a curiosidade de sempre sobre como é ter de negociar com traficantes para poder filmar numa favela, a violência, a crueldade da guerrilha dos morros, o ponto de vista de um policial (que foi, claro, comparado a Don Corleone, do clássico “O poderoso chefão”) e a pirataria que “bombou” o lançamento no Brasil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ainda nesta segunda, às 16h (horário de Brasília), o filme terá a sua sessão oficial para público e convidados. Assim como visto na sessão para a imprensa, não deverá ser o favorito, mas quase ninguém deve pedir para sair da sessão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;Taí... é assim que escreve a galera do Post, assim, com personalidade, humor... Pessoal tá aprendendo!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7893937854810793828?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7893937854810793828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7893937854810793828&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7893937854810793828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7893937854810793828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/lost-in-translation.html' title='Lost in Translation'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7266113366954404348</id><published>2008-02-10T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T14:39:54.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>week and its end</title><content type='html'>Hey, people que não vêm aqui. Nada de mais aconteceu essa semana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peguei umas &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;músicas brasileiras&lt;/span&gt; pro mp3! Aliás, ele andou meio esquisito, parou de reconhecer o cartão micro sd. Acho que eles brigaram. Ou então sou eu fazendo besteira formatando ambos. É que eu queria organizar os arquivos e botar ordem nas músicas pra depois por tudo de volta no mp3. Aí assim ficaria melhor achar as músicas dentro dele quando eu quisesse escutar algo específico. Mas não dá, minha organização e o meu stress não adiantaram de nada, eu preciso é abstrair que meu Sansa não é um IPod e, aliás, é por isso que eu gosto dele néverdade??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tá, então peguei uns Kid Abelha, Capital Inicial, Rita Lee, Pato Fu, Paralamas. Não sei, numa vibe "eu gosto de música brasileira também, tsá?". Mas eu gosto...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descobri que a Jubs foi num jogo do Brasil lá na &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Irlanda &lt;/span&gt;e that was SOOOOO COOL! Magina!! Ela viu uma galerinha brasileira lá na torcida, que mesmo em muito menor número, faziam mais barulho que os irlandeses. Que lindo. Ela parece estar num lugar legal, fazendo um programa legal, e ainda vai conhecer a Zoropa quando acabar. Fiquei com vontade. Será que eu poderia&lt;br /&gt;arrumar algo assim ano que vem? Vou acabar me profissionalizando... rsssss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quarta, dia 06 foi &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bob Marley Day&lt;/span&gt;. Poizé, lá na Jamaica! rssss... Se ele tem um dia pra ele, o Bono também merece! Quando será o&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Bono Vox Day&lt;/span&gt;??? O aniversário dele é (deixa eu ver se eu sou fã mesmo...) 28 de... maio? Deixa eu conferir... putz, 10 de maio!!! Pelo menos acertei o mês!! Anyways, to mencionando isso aqui por motivos que só eu entendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tá que sexta descobri que tirei meu primeiro&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; B &lt;/span&gt;na prova. Eu pensei que tinha conseguido uma A de novo, mas não... Tudo bem, sem neurose, principalmente pelo fato de que eu não consegui estudar direito e até um dia antes da prova eu pensava em drop out essa aula. Agora eu penso que deveria, porque tá cada vez mais chatinha... A tia me deu 86. Eu fiquei com dúvida do que eu tinha errado na última redação e pedi pra ela olhar (A &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NERD&lt;/span&gt;! Que vergonha...) e a tia resolveu me dar 89! Mas isso ainda é B. Whatever. Eu só queria ir embora...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessoal aqui da casa viajou pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NY&lt;/span&gt; e só depois descobri que era aniversário da Nathalia! Então era comemoração! De qualquer maneira, fiquei responsável pelos babies da casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sexta teve festa no&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Chuck E Cheese's&lt;/span&gt;. Aquilo é a perfeita representação de tudo que rola por aqui... a vibe. Crianças correndo, os pais meio sem saber o que fazer, se vão atrás, se ficam olhando de longe, muitos vestidos com suas roupas de trabalho, salto altos, blazers e cartões de identificação da empresa pendurados no pescoço. Todos com uma cara cansada, enquanto as crianças se enchem de pizza ruim e dançam com uma pessoa vestida de rato (o tal Chuck). Depois vai todo mundo pra área de brinquedos com o intuito de ganhar uns tickets que podem ser depois trocados por brinquedos, dependendo da quantidade de tickets que você tem. Lindo como a Thaissa não tem essa ambição... ela gasta as moedas dela no brinquedo dos Telletubies que não dá ticket nenhum, só balança de um lado para o outro, ou no carrossel... Dá nervoso mas... é pior ver as crianças doidas enfiando correntes intermináveis de tickets nas máquinas pra pegar o recibo e trocar pelas tais bugingangas. Só de imaginar o dinheiro gasto pra pegar TANTOS tickets...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sábado, Daiana esteve com a gente. Thais tinha outra festinha, Daiana não foi. Se era pra aturar criançada, ela tava de folga. Na volta pegamos ela de novo. Domingo, tive a idéia de decorar a casa para quando a Nathalia voltasse, com desenhos da Thaissa, quem sabe comprar balões. Fiz brigadeiros, penduramos os cartazes. De tarde fomos no Target comprar balões e umas besteirinhas e no Wegmans comprar um bolo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abro um parênteses pra contar como é horrível comprar sapato por aqui. Primeiro, porque é tudo &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;feio&lt;/span&gt;. Mas muito feio mesmo, tá? Segundo que meu pé já é complicado por natureza. Terceiro porque é super difícil achar meu número, que é mais ou menos 5 1/2 aqui. Até que ontem no Target achei um All Star simpático, mas pra cada sapato simpático, tem uns 100 feiosos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tirei foto pra provar... Mari, se você quiser um desses me avisa:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5165854066140714338"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R7DM5z3TFWI/AAAAAAAAIHs/Gkv4ZY7GFRI/s288/P1030123.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse amarelo tem bolinhas brancas, só que não apareceu na foto...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De volta, a gente terminou a decoração, mas para nosso infortúnio, o avião da galera atrasou devido à &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ventania&lt;/span&gt; que tava por aqui por Washington. Sério, tava ventando muito mesmo. Aaaaah, lá se foi nossa festa-surpresa. A Thaissa ficou tristinha, mas até que ela foi bem forte. Dá uma peninha... eles pegaram um carro e chegaram de madrugada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaah, tenho que compartilhar uma foto que tirei essa semana também, na sexta ou quinta, agora não lembro. Só pra ilustrar o que sempre digo sobre os céus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5165853851392349202"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R7DMtT3TFBI/AAAAAAAAIFA/PnV6x6P8qNk/s288/P1030019.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I just wanna go till I hit the point of no return.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7266113366954404348?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7266113366954404348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7266113366954404348&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7266113366954404348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7266113366954404348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/week-and-its-end.html' title='week and its end'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2252796262075436889</id><published>2008-02-07T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T18:55:58.237-08:00</updated><title type='text'>eat, pray, love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.elizabethgilbert.com/images/eatpraylove.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 126px; height: 188px;" src="http://www.elizabethgilbert.com/images/eatpraylove.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;It was sitting there on Shelley's house and since I couldn't get any other book from the library to continue my dive into american literature, I decided to get into this other path, the path of american bestseller junk food self-help literature that this book seemed: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eat, Pray, Love -One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The book is good. It's a true story, the life of this woman, this writer, that after a terrible time, realizes that she needs to be in contact with &lt;span&gt;God&lt;/span&gt;. Well, her idea of God. More, she needs to be in contact with what's good in life. So she decides to travel to Italy (to search the beautiful and the pleasure), India (to get in touch with what's holy) and Indonesia, where she wanted to learn how to balance both sides.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;And tough she describes an awful experience with desperate love, depression and a painful divorce, I envy her. She's a journalist and writer and at the age thirty she had a established and successful career, traveled all around the world, had a big house in the suburbs, an apartment in Manhattan, 3 published books etc etc, was married. Of course, she wasn't happy... but &lt;span&gt;DUH&lt;/span&gt;, than she took a year to travel and heal herself, and now sold millions of books, which is, by the way, going to be a movie soon, Julia Roberts playing her role, so there you go!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Not only she has a degree form NYU, she took chances in her life. She would take some months to work as a waitress or something and save up for her trips. And meet new people, know how they talk, hear stories, get inspiration. And she would write, write, write, and endlessly send her stories to everyone, and maybe get published. And that's how she found her open door. I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt; envy her...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;So she says: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;My life probably looked disordered to                  observers (not that anyone was observing it that closely) but my                  travels were a very deliberate effort to learn as much as I                  could about life, expressly so that I could write about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;So, anyway... the book has been great since. Some of her experiences already made me want to cry (other made me laugh), and I'm just in the beginning!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;And it has wonderful histories! Wonderful quotes! She has great thoughts about the american culture, she has a quite accurate description desperate love, that unfortunately I agree: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"In desperate love, it's always like this, isn't it? In desperate love, we always invent the characters of our partners, demanding that they be what we need of them, and them feeling devastated when they refuse to perform the role we created in the first place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I keep reading.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2252796262075436889?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2252796262075436889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2252796262075436889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2252796262075436889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2252796262075436889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/eat-pray-love.html' title='eat, pray, love'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2892995570510343638</id><published>2008-02-06T17:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T18:33:56.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>winter day</title><content type='html'>I make mine Ricky Fitts's words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. (...) Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;When tears come from nowhere, you must take the time to ease your mind. So Mason took me out on a walk today. He's not the perfect companion, for he gets very excited with every single smell and piece of trash and other dogs, but it'll do. It was a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;winter day in Rio&lt;/span&gt; here (some know how rare those winter days are down there, and for that, so precious). Warm here, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;gray skies&lt;/span&gt;, the sun desperately trying to get out behind the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;clouds&lt;/span&gt;, the rain can fall or not, anyway it fells like a somewhat humid greenhouse. The &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wind&lt;/span&gt;. It might &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rain&lt;/span&gt;, I'd like to get some rain, I surely would!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I must say, since our trees don't lose their foliage, add to that the smell of wet grass and dirt. If I had that here, than I might have not survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's something about the skies here, I don't know, they're different, and I said that already. But it always amazes me. There are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;two&lt;/span&gt; things that you can do to take your mind away from your own petty &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;problems&lt;/span&gt;. One is to ponder about bigger, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;terrible&lt;/span&gt; problems of the world, like war, genocide, diseases without cure, the list goes on. Once you realize that you live in the same world where those things happen, you realize that you're lucky and blessed and that you really don't have nothing to whine about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing is to chase the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt; things about the world, how beautiful things can be, like the laughter of a child, the whole miracle that a butterfly is or how astonishing the sky gets while the sun sets. Once you realize that you live in the same world where those things happen, you realize that you're lucky and blessed and that you really don't have nothing to whine about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while Beck said that he thinks he is in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;but it makes him kinda &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nervous&lt;/span&gt; to say so;&lt;br /&gt;and Robert Smith cried that however &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;far&lt;/span&gt; away, however &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;long&lt;/span&gt; he stays, whatever &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;words&lt;/span&gt; he say, he would always love this someone;&lt;br /&gt;and Noel advised that you should not look back in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;anger&lt;/span&gt;;&lt;br /&gt;and John asked me to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;look&lt;/span&gt; around round round;&lt;br /&gt;I made mine all those feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I did look around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I saw... the sky had several shades of&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; blue&lt;/span&gt;. Grayish blue above, baby blue behind the sun, setting. A beam of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;orange&lt;/span&gt; light ran towards the gray. Decorating a darker part of the sky, a couple of yellow clouds floated. Looking up, the sky had another shade of blue, small &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;gray &lt;/span&gt;clouds one next to the other made a stripe parallel to other &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;white&lt;/span&gt; stripes, trails from airplanes passing by, and one was passing by that particular minute. Few minutes later, the sky was lighted in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;yellow&lt;/span&gt;. Few minutes later, it got bright &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt;. Grey clouds ran across the sky, I never saw clouds flowing so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fast&lt;/span&gt;! Among the pink, the white clouds got yellow from the sun rays and spread all around looking like... spread cotton. Sun sets in the west, the east was already dark gray, the pink stain was getting smaller and smaller. Far... Time to go. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thanks&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The sun is up, the sky is blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; It's beautiful and so are you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence won't you come out to play&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence open up your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence see the sunny skies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The wind is low the birds will sing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; That you are part of everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence won't you open up your eyes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Look around round round&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Look around round round&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Look around round round&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence let me see you smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence like a little child&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The clouds will be a daisy chain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; So let me see you smile again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence won't you let me see you smile?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The sun is up, the sky is blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; It's beautiful and so are you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dear Prudence won't you come out to play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QF-UlTE_mHs&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QF-UlTE_mHs&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2892995570510343638?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2892995570510343638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2892995570510343638&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2892995570510343638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2892995570510343638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-make-mine-ricky-fittss-words-and.html' title='winter day'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-4937875163652191947</id><published>2008-02-06T08:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T08:55:21.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaaaaahh Momento "just kill me 2"</title><content type='html'>Valentine's Day comming... ninguém merece... Só o Mason tem um valentine na vida dele (sua adorada Gopi), isso se você descontar os casados...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is... eu queria poder &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dedicar&lt;/span&gt; essas músicas sem medo de pagar mico (ou como diz Christian Pior, "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;contratar o primata&lt;/span&gt;")... *suspiro*:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LoveSong - The Cure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tU6wkCxDHCk&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tU6wkCxDHCk&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"However far away I will always love you  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;However long I stay I will always love you  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Whatever words I say I will always love you  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I will always love you ... blá blá blá" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Piazza New York Catcher - Belle &amp;amp; Sebastian:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vw5zn1aNlJI&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vw5zn1aNlJI&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Elope with me Miss Private and we’ll sail around the        world... la la la"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;*suspiro* 2&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-4937875163652191947?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/4937875163652191947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=4937875163652191947&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4937875163652191947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/4937875163652191947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/aaaaaahh-momento-just-kill-me-2.html' title='Aaaaaahh Momento &quot;just kill me 2&quot;'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-771582783559152223</id><published>2008-02-04T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T18:49:32.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love today</title><content type='html'>Ai gentiii... eu quero dançar e cantar essa música no mei da rua...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fW8ATwgpuXY&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fW8ATwgpuXY&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-771582783559152223?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/771582783559152223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=771582783559152223&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/771582783559152223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/771582783559152223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/love-today.html' title='Love today'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-3319061669960895845</id><published>2008-02-04T06:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T08:28:04.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Festa estranha com gente esquisita...</title><content type='html'>Vamos começar bem, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para todos os meus amigos publicitários, o&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Super Bowl&lt;/span&gt; é uma beleza. A cada comercial doido, eu lembrava da Mari, Gersin e toda a galera... Os comerciais nos intervalos do SuperBowl (a final do campeonato de futebol americano, and, believe me, tem mais comercial que jogo, graças!) custam uma fortuuuuna. O que eu mais gostei foi esse que posto cá embaixo. É simples, mas sincero, uma boa idéia e como vocês vão ver, eu me relacionei completamente com a situação: DC é assim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A propaganda mostra dois adversários políticos (Democratas vs. Republicanos) discutindo headstrong num debate, até que eles decidem dar uma saída, beber uma Coca e passear por DC, conversando amigavelmente. Num período de eleição como os que os americanos estão passando, vem político tal falando uma coisa, político tal falando outra... foi simplesmente tocante ver os tios esquecendo as agruras e percebendo quão maravilhoso é o lugar que os cerca... tipo, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;It should not about power, it should be about us&lt;/span&gt; (no caso, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;them americans&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;amp;videoid=27486977"&gt;Coca-Cola Coke Superbowl Commercial Ad feat. Bill Frist and Jam&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" flashvars="m=27486977&amp;amp;v=2&amp;amp;type=video" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="346" width="430"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... ontem fez um dia muito agradável. Tava um sol bonito, quente, eu e Daiana fomos na igreja, depois fizemos pic nic de Target no Claude Moore Park. Era o SuperBowl e a April lá na NOVA tinha me convidado informalmente para uma &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;party pra assistir o jogo&lt;/span&gt;. Eu não ligo a mínima pro jogo, não entendo, mas imaginei que seria uma &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;experiência completamente americana&lt;/span&gt;. Foi aquele tipo de convite que vc não sabe se é pra aceitar ou não, mas ela ligou, eu fiquei assim, meicum medaaa, mas geral me empurrou (menos a Martha... só depois, too late, fui saber o que ela falou ao telefone). Bom, aí ao invés de ir ice-skating com a Martha e a Camila em DC eu fui lá pra Manassas na casa do tal ex dela ver o jogo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma coisa eu digo... tô ficando mais adventurous na direção. Magina se eu ia pegar a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;highway&lt;/span&gt; há uns tempos atrás...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que a gente não se mete em nome de uma análise antropológica... O tapetinho na porta do apê já dizia: "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Enter at your own risk&lt;/span&gt;". E eu entrei... A gente chegou com comidas (ela cozinhou, fez um pão todo especial lá, um chili), mas infelizmente a dieta dos caras era &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;líquida&lt;/span&gt;. Ela conhecia a galera toda, mas foi tão estranho, pq ngm ligou a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mínima&lt;/span&gt; com a nossa presença. A gente conversou um bocado, realmente o melhor da história são os comerciais. Como fui ignorada, tentei ignorar o ambiente. Nem dava pra respirar fundo pq a fumaceira tava braba. Pessoal chapuletou&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; joselitamente&lt;/span&gt;, mas tão joselitamente, era beer&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;+&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(nem quero divulgar a lista completa de iguarias).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem falar que quando o Giants ganhou eu pensei que um cara lá ia morrer, de tão loco que ele ficou. Foi uma comemoração sem noção &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Flamenguista style&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até a April ficou mei chocada, creio eu. Ela me pediu desculpas um sem-fim de vezes. Ela não pensava que ia rolar tanta joselitância. Ainda mais me levar pra testemunhar tal joselitância. Sei lá, às vezes acho que ela tb queria uma companhia, por isso me levou. Não sei, não a conheço muito bem. É aquela história... no Brasil, mesmo se vc só estuda com a pessoal vc se relaciona mais, vc conversa, se conhece. Aqui é diferente, as pessoas demoram muito tempo pra se conhecerem, pq francamente, parece que esses americanos não estão muito a fim de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;gastar tempo&lt;/span&gt; com você! Eu sinto isso demais nas pessoas. Então, eu imagino que tenho que começar a take chances...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas aí é aquilo, you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;take a chance&lt;/span&gt; e pode se estrupiar. E eu descobri que eu não preciso da Daiana pra me meter em &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;furada&lt;/span&gt;, eu me meto sozinha muito bem, obrigada (rimou!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então, pro pessoal que me enche dizendo que eu não me aventuro, taí. Eu me aventuro sim, só que nunca dá certo, ó pá!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi uma experiência estranha que... não sei se eu precisava ter passado. Aquilo que eu vi, foi como um filme adolescente americano qualquer... guys making completely assholes of themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, God, are they so dumb? Naaa, tb tinha uma guria &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fora da casinha&lt;/span&gt; lá (frase completamente Daiana). Ela nem falava nada, nem se mexia, só chapuletava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coitados, tenho pena. Pq eles não sabem o que fazem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dado momento um &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;drunk dial&lt;/span&gt; a&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; mãe&lt;/span&gt; dele. Eu disse: "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Good, because then she'll know&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just don't know if she'll do something about it... &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;she should!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-3319061669960895845?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/3319061669960895845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=3319061669960895845&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3319061669960895845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3319061669960895845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/02/festa-estranha-com-gente-esquisita.html' title='Festa estranha com gente esquisita...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-5175507920589513090</id><published>2008-01-31T17:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T20:24:52.519-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The guiding-self-help-psychology-fortune-cookie IR book says...</title><content type='html'>"For &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;peace,&lt;/span&gt; memories must &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;fade&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This book is total &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;power&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this is my &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_cktJd3JqYA"&gt;inspiration&lt;/a&gt;... heheheh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-5175507920589513090?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/5175507920589513090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=5175507920589513090&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5175507920589513090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5175507920589513090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/guiding-self-help-psychology-fortune.html' title='The guiding-self-help-psychology-fortune-cookie IR book says...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8652751588973455353</id><published>2008-01-31T08:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T09:03:20.417-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Na falta de concentração...</title><content type='html'>Eu não to conseguindo estudar. Amanhã tenho um &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;teste&lt;/span&gt;, simplesmente os problemas da África e Oriente Médio, com direito a 2 redações e 10 termos pra definir, termos os quais vão ser surpresa e apesar da professora insistir que não fica matutando os termos mais improváveis pra ferrar a gente na prova, é exatamente isso que ela faz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por isso eu deveria estar estudando o máximo pra poder responder o mínimo. &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Deveria&lt;/span&gt;, mas não estou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu fico pensando num monte de pequenas e &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;inúteis&lt;/span&gt; coisas que eu queria estar fazendo agora ao invés de ponderar sobre os problemas da África e Oriente Médio. Tipo (1) dormir, (2) treinar guitarra, (3) organizar minha músicas no computador, (4) organizar umas fotos pra revelar, (5) ficar conversando com os amigos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa é a lista de coisas que eu poderia estar fazendo (umas estou fazendo, ao invés de estudar). Claro que se a gente pular pro plano imaginário eu poderia fazer uma lista muito mais diversificada e impossível, começando com (1) arrumar as malas e imprimir a passagem aérea pra Londres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acima de tudo, o que monopoliza a minha mente e não me deixa estudar é a preocupação e ansiedade por não saber o &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rumo&lt;/span&gt; que a minha vida vai tomar num futuro próximo (sim, porque a preocupação com o futuro distante eu já abstraí...). Fico, não fico, vou, não vou, o que eu faço pra que tudo funcione. Posso voltar no tempo? Posso ter umas respostas? Posse saber qual direção seguir? Vai dar certo ou não?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaah, mas os meus problemas são tão pequenos... de acordo com o meu livro, muitos países da África são estados &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;falidos&lt;/span&gt;, sem governo, incapazes de alimentar sua gente e manter a ordem. Não há &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lei&lt;/span&gt;. Adolescentes com AK-47s formam uma milicia rebelde. Na África do Sul, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1 a cada 5 adultos tem o vírus da AIDS&lt;/span&gt;. No Oriente Médio, os palestinos cresceram desorganizadamente e após anos e anos sem território, sem governo, sem &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;desenvolvimento&lt;/span&gt; econômico ou social, sem perspectiva, tudo isso misturou-se com extremismo religioso e há décadas aquela terra não tem &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;paz&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O futuro de toda essa gente também é incerto. Queria que as incertezas deles fossem como as minhas...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8652751588973455353?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8652751588973455353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8652751588973455353&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8652751588973455353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8652751588973455353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/na-falta-de-concentrao.html' title='Na falta de concentração...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8572248831884504203</id><published>2008-01-30T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T18:54:07.128-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Enquanto isso, no MSN...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;ultima aula foi comedia. pq aih teve uma hora q a Mrs. McKee comecou a falar que se as pessoas naum concordam com as acoes militares no iraque, tinha q pressionar o governo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;esses negocios de comittes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;house of representatives whatever q eu nam entendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;sei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;aih ela comecou a se exaltar, falando DO SOMETHING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;hahahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;cm sempre!!! da a loca na tia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;e eu virava pra Sophia e falava, "caaaara, EU nao posso fazer nada, pq ela tah gritando cmg??"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;ha ha ha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;os vereadores lah no rio naum conseguem nem tapar buraco!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;pois eh!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;se a sua rua tiver buraco, hahaha... acostume-se&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;bem isso!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;o maximo que vc pode fazer eh confeccionar uma plaquinha e escrever: "Cuidado, BURACO"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;e uma setinha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;nossa, se a Mrs.McKee visse cm eh a politica no Brasil ia ter um ataque!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;  eh bem isso!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;e olhe la!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Natalia Weber - para grandes conquistas, grandes riscos... says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;e olha que tem gente q naum vai enxergar a virgulinha e achar que o Buraco eh q tem que tomar cuidado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Daiana says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;sohhhh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8572248831884504203?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8572248831884504203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8572248831884504203&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8572248831884504203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8572248831884504203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/enquanto-isso-no-msn.html' title='Enquanto isso, no MSN...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2866443338267504486</id><published>2008-01-30T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T07:12:00.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Statement</title><content type='html'>I need some &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SERIOUS&lt;/span&gt; advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to know what's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;RIGHT&lt;/span&gt;, what's going to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WORK&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I really really need to know it &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NOW&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I just don't know what to do with myself&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2866443338267504486?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2866443338267504486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2866443338267504486&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2866443338267504486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2866443338267504486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/statement.html' title='Statement'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-954161016089205662</id><published>2008-01-28T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T19:03:34.785-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy B-Day Daiana!!!</title><content type='html'>E de presente pra você, muita PAGAÇÃO DE MICO!!! YAAAAAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como sempre.... assim como você diz, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;se não tivesse mico, não seriamos nós&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comemoração ao estilo "gáucho", como dizem os americanos da &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Texas de Brazil&lt;/span&gt;. Sim, esse é o nome. Não, eu não sei o que o americano bebeu pra colocar esse nome na churrascaria (steakhouse) brasileira. Aliás, eu sei... caipirinha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5160577422676004946"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R54N0vKBEFI/AAAAAAAAH70/_JiMUK3poKo/s288/DSC06633.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cheese bread!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday brunch, a Daiana já chegou empolgada... we helped ourselves to the salad bar e ficamos esperando as carnes. Daiana comemorava a cada garfada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5160577474215612562"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R54N3vKBEJI/AAAAAAAAH8U/PxZwv7GrlIE/s288/DSC06638.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Legal foi a gente esperando a picanha, chega o tio e pergunta se a gente queria top sirloin não sei o que e a Daiana goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- I want Picanha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- M'am, this is picanha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aí eu tenho que intervir... "You guys say it in english, we don't understand!" Tem que dar uma de loira burra nessas horas, mesmo estando ruiva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5160577495690449074"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R54N4_KBELI/AAAAAAAAH8k/4lzn8sm-7GQ/s288/DSC06642.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dois tios árabes do nosso lado ficaram puxando assunto, até então amigavelmente, pq eles eram muito tios mesmos. Mas daí a Daiana pede uma &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;caipirinha&lt;/span&gt; (com 21 ela pensa que tá podendo) e o tio comenta do que ela tava bebendo e vai e paga uma... pra mim!!! Po, logo pra minha pessoa?? Tipos que a gente teve que explicar pro tio q eu não bebia, e quando veio a birita eu agradeci e devolvi pro tio. Mas mesmo assim o tio não se emendou, ficou ainda fazendo várias propostas e queria nosso telefone. Nessa hora a Daiana já tava mais pra lá que pra cá e eu mandei ela inventar um número qualquer pro tio parar com o &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;assédio&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai meu Deus... só a gente mesmo. Olha o que chove na nossa horta! É que vcs não tavam lá e não podem imaginar a qualidade duvidosa dos tios, mas please, acreditem na nossa palavra. Assim não dá pra ser feliz...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saindo de lá, a gente tinha comido tanto que tava até barriguda. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Food baby!&lt;/span&gt; Que vergonha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não tinha mais nada pra fazer, os ingressos pra ver U2 3D já esgotados, fomos pra DC ficar andando um bocado. Tava frio e já escurecendo, mas foi bem &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;agradável&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5160577641719337378"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R54OBfKBEaI/AAAAAAAAH-g/L9yu1YjGmkc/s288/DSC06689.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5160577676079075794"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R54ODfKBEdI/AAAAAAAAH-4/huo3nVTNF_8/s288/DSC06696.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, got back... relaxed, talked more and more, ate a little more (!!!!)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5160577792043192962"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R54OKPKBEoI/AAAAAAAAIAQ/Qz3XHK8aRu8/s288/DSC06747.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5160577822107964082"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R54OL_KBErI/AAAAAAAAIAo/ZwjG1tGkB7E/s288/DSC06757.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Happy Birthday, Daiana! Espero que tenha se divertido, espero que tenha valido, espero que você consiga realizar seus sonhos, e que tudo de bom que você planta dê incríveis frutos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5160577598769664338"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R54N-_KBEVI/AAAAAAAAH94/H2v5xvBiPp0/s288/DSC06666.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-954161016089205662?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/954161016089205662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=954161016089205662&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/954161016089205662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/954161016089205662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-b-day-daiana.html' title='Happy B-Day Daiana!!!'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6185422194177771334</id><published>2008-01-25T13:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T13:38:21.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"It's bad enough in life to do without something &lt;strong&gt;you &lt;/strong&gt;want; but confound it, what gets my goat is not being able to give somebody something you want &lt;strong&gt;them&lt;/strong&gt; to have."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Truman Capote&lt;/strong&gt;, "A Christmas Memory"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And that's exactly how I feel.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6185422194177771334?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6185422194177771334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6185422194177771334&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6185422194177771334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6185422194177771334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-906166315306714902</id><published>2008-01-24T07:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T07:52:00.814-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Going on...</title><content type='html'>Enough with the JUNO overdose already, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that nothing much's been happening... nothing I can turn into words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to make things right so I can stay here a little longer, though I still think this country &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;repeals&lt;/span&gt; me... Many obstacles appear, I feel to lazy to fight them. There's not much will inside of me for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feels like things got complicated because and I kinda walked a different path from the other au pairs, tried to aim higher and now things are harder (and more expensive). I wish I knew how they have it so easy. I think it would be better if I were stupid. Than I'd've taken ESL classes and life'd be much, MUCH easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I got the "mean reds", as Holly Golightly calls &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;angst&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I finished &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Breakfast at Tiffany's&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to go back to the IR book. We've been studying some serious shenanigans... Africa, Middle East, that stuff... I'm not very excited about classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good quotes and advices as always: "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You cannot ignore inconvenient people&lt;/span&gt;". Seriously, my IR book is a guiding-self-help-psychology-fortune-cookie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week we had a lotta &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;snow&lt;/span&gt;. We played a lot and Greg is the killer snow ball thrower. Took Lindsay to sledge down some hills, once I landed on a puddle of mud and I was soaked till the soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5156828556210267058"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R5C8P_SA47I/AAAAAAAAGrk/UV47sMnFc5w/s288/P1020234.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5156828736598893826"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R5C8afSA5QI/AAAAAAAAGuU/9HzJaASR05k/s288/P1020280.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tried to make a snow-man, it was half-done, nobody really took interest in finishing it, neither did I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/EvenMoreWeberInAmerica/photo#5156828629224711234"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R5C8UPSA5EI/AAAAAAAAGsw/U3vYDGFqizE/s288/P1020255.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lindsay tastes the snow cake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to do saturday, Daiana and I hang out at Wegman's laughing at the chinese vendor guy screamming "BANANAA, BANANAAA, OOOOOOOH".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, met Martha, Camila and Candy at the Outlet with Daiana. Don't like that place... It was really cold, like minus 10 celsius, but that wasn't the problem... waiting for them to think if they're going to buy stuff is not very exciting. Martha had some exciting news though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate at Cheesecake Factory and, really... I can't go on eating like that... It's just not right...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else? Well, I've been putting myself into a situation that can be ironic, funny, awkward and sick at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm getting my PHD in improvised Investigative Journalism or covert action, you know? Collection information and process it to become intelligence and than use it when necessary? Seriously, something's wrong with me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good thing is that I'm gonna get &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;free guitar lessons&lt;/span&gt;!!! Bad thing is that I totally suck...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Season is changing, now the night appears a little bit later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thaissa's growing, now she's less sweet, more of a smarty-pants... Soon she'll be 5. More beautiful, talented, and she knows it. She thinks she's better than me, and that's probably true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now I feel sleepy and gloomy. I'll dye my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juliana gave me some good advice...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-906166315306714902?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/906166315306714902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=906166315306714902&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/906166315306714902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/906166315306714902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/going-on.html' title='Going on...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-8101445933141268264</id><published>2008-01-23T09:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T09:49:55.749-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AMAAAAZING!</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.foxsearchlight.com/juno/facebook/JUNO_394X741_MAIN/JARGON_MYSPACE/JUNO_JARGON.swf" quality="high" wmode="transparent" bgcolor="#ffffff" width="350" height="380" name="JunoEmbed" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border="0" width="0" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/CIMP/Jmx*PTEyMDExMTA1NTUxNDYmcHQ9MTIwMTExMDU2NTk1OSZwPTgxNTcxJmQ9Jm49.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-8101445933141268264?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/8101445933141268264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=8101445933141268264&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8101445933141268264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/8101445933141268264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/amaaaazing.html' title='AMAAAAZING!'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7030999454652692839</id><published>2008-01-23T07:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T07:24:51.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well done, homeskillet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Love how some articles are written here. The Post is full of them. They are more personal and humorous, they bear more freedom. It's a great style that makes you connect with what's being said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;This one is from J. Freedom duLac:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Music&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;'Juno' Soundtrack More Goo-Goo Than Gaga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2008/01/22/PH2008012203838.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2008/01/22/PH2008012203838.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;"Juno" is evil. Honest to blog!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;The downside to the "Juno" juggernaut isn't necessarily that so many people are quoting so much of the dialogue from the big little indie film about a caustic and glib 16-year-old girl with a baby on board.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;It's that I've had to spend so much time listening to the horribly precious hit soundtrack birthed by the film. Because if the album is the cheese to the movie's macaroni, then I'm lactose-intolerant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;The "Juno" soundtrack -- which narrowly missed being the No. 1 album on the latest Billboard Top 200 chart -- is totally boss . . . so long as you have an affinity for the sort of insufferably twee music proffered by Kimya Dawson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;The Olympia, Wash.-based singer-songwriter dominates the collection with solo songs and music by her bands Antsy Pants and the Moldy Peaches -- most notably "Anyone Else but You," an adolescent love song that appears twice on the album. There's the unbearably drippy 2002 original by the sorta-disbanded-but-not-really Moldy Peaches, plus the awwww-so-adorable version from "Juno's" closing scene, in which stars Ellen Page and Michael Cera make like Dawson and her fellow Peach Adam Green. Only Page (as Juno) and Cera (as Juno's babydaddy) do it better and somehow more believably than Dawson and Green. Call it method singing. (Call it infectious, too: More than a few moviegoers have left "Juno" screenings humming the song. )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Dawson's music was never supposed to receive this kind of a mass hearing. She was, with the Moldy Peaches, a polarizing star on the underground anti-folk scene, which was all, like, 10,000 leagues under the mainstream sea. Her art is an acquired taste, with its flatly intoned vocals, raggedy guitar lines and cutesy-funny observations, which tend to be shot through with a childlike innocence. It's joyous, juvenile noise -- rudimentary low-fi songs that are at once silly and sincere (and sometimes sad and angry), with awkward, sophomoric lyrics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;"Here is the church and here is the steeple/We sure are cute for two ugly people," goes one line from "Anyone Else but You." In "So Nice So Smart," also included on the "Juno" soundtrack, Dawson warbles: "I like boys with strong convictions/And convicts with perfect diction/Underdogs with good intentions/Amputees with stamp collections."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;In "Tire Swing," she sings that "Joey never met a bike that he didn't wanna ride/And I never met a Toby that I didn't like." And: "Scotty liked all of the books that I recommended/Even if he didn't, I wouldn't be offended." There are also songs about roller coasters and vampires.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;It all suggests that Dawson is 35 going on 16. Which is why Page, who plays Juno MacGuff, told "Juno" director Jason Reitman that her character would most likely be a Moldy Peaches fan. Which is how eight different Dawson tunes wound up on the "Juno" soundtrack and laced throughout the movie. Which is too much, given that she's best digested in small doses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;There are other artists on the album, as well -- from the Kinks ("A Well Respected Man") and Mott the Hoople (the Bowie classic "All the Young Dudes") to Belle &amp;amp; Sebastian (two songs) and the Velvet Underground ("I'm Sticking With You," one of the indie idols' weakest songs). There's also a blast of Sonic Youth, whose cover of the Carpenters' hit "Superstar" has a bit part in the movie's plot, and songs by Buddy Holly ("Dearest") and the soporific Cat Power ("Sea of Love").&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;It's a curious collection of songs, given Juno's assertion in the film that 1977 was music's greatest year and, also, those old punk posters on her wall. Yet the lone circa-1977 song here is "All I Want Is You," by the children's music singer Barry Louis Polisar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Wonder what sort of zippy, snarky observation Juno would make about that. Maybe she'd paraphrase her father: Hey there, big, grating soundtrack version of "Junebug."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;And spare me your creative outrage, Kimya/Moldy Peaches fans. I already know what you're going to say when you pick up your "hamburger phones" and call me to complain. Shut my freakin' gob. Silencio, old man. Etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Too late. This ain't no Etch A Sketch. This is one published doodle that can't be un-did, homeskillets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7030999454652692839?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7030999454652692839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7030999454652692839&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7030999454652692839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7030999454652692839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/well-done-homeskillet.html' title='Well done, homeskillet!'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7135748367601396781</id><published>2008-01-22T17:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T14:28:33.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P. Heath Ledger</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe he's dead...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG, he is dead...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll always remember him like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BIW7WXPb-dc&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BIW7WXPb-dc&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xyrJANFJKec&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xyrJANFJKec&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite movies of my teenage years. I remember having so much fun with my friends watching it, it brings me back a lot of good stuff, good times, good times...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7135748367601396781?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7135748367601396781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7135748367601396781&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7135748367601396781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7135748367601396781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/rip-heath-ledger.html' title='R.I.P. Heath Ledger'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-3987645914976554337</id><published>2008-01-20T07:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T07:46:41.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Free movies</title><content type='html'>Veja antes que alguém vá preso...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.watch-movies.net/"&gt;http://www.watch-movies.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-3987645914976554337?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/3987645914976554337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=3987645914976554337&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3987645914976554337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3987645914976554337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/free-movies.html' title='Free movies'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7588472565007534963</id><published>2008-01-17T16:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T16:04:56.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, Boo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Magical moment...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wYMxdMPZXZ8&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wYMxdMPZXZ8&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;To Kill a Mockingbird&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;, 1962&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;strongly&lt;/span&gt; recommend the book! No doubt one of the best I've ever read.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;p.s.: Em português, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;O Sol é para todos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7588472565007534963?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7588472565007534963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7588472565007534963&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7588472565007534963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7588472565007534963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/hey-boo.html' title='Hey, Boo'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-3745716061973992869</id><published>2008-01-15T06:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T06:44:18.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Groundhog Day</title><content type='html'>Today is Groundhog Day, and like the movie, moments repeated themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, something did changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First day of my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;International Relations II&lt;/span&gt;, and I didn't want to go, I didn't want to take it at all, even though it was my only choice really and I had all books already etc. But it was hard to make up my mind, took forever to press the button, and my bank account is never gonna be the same after this knock-out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all, I knew thins would be kinda the same, but on a sad, lame way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I didn't want to go already, and 10 min before time to leave it started to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;snow&lt;/span&gt; really hard, and it was the first time I was piss because it was snowing... I even felt bad about it, but it was just "perfect", snow on the day I had to leave for class...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I though about how hard it is to drive in the snow and I was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;freaking out&lt;/span&gt;, really freaking out, telling Greg that I didn't know what to do, I mean, I knew: I didn't want to go to school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This is a pattern of my behavior actually, since high school, I developed a fobia of starting classes, than things get better... or not!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Just go!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did, and the snow stopped. Sufjan Stevens had to go with me, to make me calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got there, there wasn't a lot of people and half of them I knew already. We have new faces, more girls wearing scarfs on their heads... Mrs. McKee was there, so was April and Michael, as I figured. All seating in the same seats, on the same classroom, same time, same days. I took a deep breath and a walk around. This was going to be a little hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turn out, the whole thing wasn't totally sad and lame. It was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;bizarre&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;funny&lt;/span&gt; and a little &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;melancholic&lt;/span&gt;, I speak from myself. It was bittersweet, so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the new faces started talking some weird things, about their opinions with no basis on it (so McKee went and smashed them) or things we had discussed previously and us, the old foxes, just exchange looks, trying not to laugh. Is that they still don't know how things work, and we do, so we were feeling ahead in the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There this guy with a G.I. Joe vibe that's the promise of fun of the semester!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while mrs. McKee talked, I was thinking, "I heard this before...". So I stopped making notes and flipped the notebook to the first page, and there it was, everything she was talking about! The exact same things! Of course, now with a different twist...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, April was the one who shouted out &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;POLITICAL CULTURE&lt;/span&gt; when McKee asked what was America's culture. I was going to, but I got distract by the absurd of the situation and she lifted her hand first, so I said out loud "You go ahead, April" and let her do the honors, so nice of me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I had the answers for McKee's questions right there, so I passed the notebook to Michael and told him to answer them, and he didn't understand, but while he read and the teacher talked, he was laughing so hard, trying not to be loud. That was the funniest part!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, all of us old foxes made a council to discuss how crazy the whole thing was, saying "poor guys, they don't know how it is yet...".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Quote of the day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Didn't you wish you had some popcorn and lay back and just watch?" &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Michael&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: Mrs. McKee asked about Daiana!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-3745716061973992869?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/3745716061973992869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=3745716061973992869&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3745716061973992869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3745716061973992869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/groundhog-day.html' title='Groundhog Day'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-5990937538570690453</id><published>2008-01-13T06:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T06:44:15.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu dia do Fico</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Disse ao povo que fico.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;-"Thaissa, Naty is gonna stay longer." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Greg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;-"Thank you, people!!!!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Thaissa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;:-D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;ID Lyrics:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;      Show me the way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; 'Cause I am lost for good &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; And I can't pretend to know &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; Where I'm going to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; For too long &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; I have been on the run &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; And I don't remember what &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; Made me leave in the first place &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; One of these days &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; My pain will go away &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; You have your way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; So don't let me go astray &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; Everything's crushed around me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; It's all too white &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; I'll leave a mark that someone will see &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; Hopefully &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; All the places I go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; They're all the same, you know &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; I can't move on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; 'Til I've seen how it was before &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; One of these days &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; The pain will go away &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; You have your way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; So don't let me go astray &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt; Don't let me go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;On the Run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;, Tahiti 80)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-5990937538570690453?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/5990937538570690453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=5990937538570690453&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5990937538570690453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5990937538570690453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/meu-dia-do-fico.html' title='Meu dia do Fico'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-933856382087240291</id><published>2008-01-12T14:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T12:17:39.224-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Kitty Beatles! :-D</title><content type='html'>... so I read somewhere about this japanese Beatles cover band... I don't remeber now where. Guess I just looked at the 9:30 club web site, since I go there sometimes to see what's coming... And I thought, "why not, you know? 'Cause at least you know that the music is going to be good, in principle!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I also wanted a prerogative to go out and have fun at last, and then thought about getting Candy to go. She has just came back from London and I couldn't wait to hear her stories... Of course, Daiana joining us is implicit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggested it to both of them, and as I though agreed. Greg and Nathalia obviously made fun of me, 'cause... you know... a japanese Beatles cover band??? But they were supposedly good! They were playing at the 9:30 club, which is very respected... they toured with The Killers. And I saw them at Youtube, they are good! And the guitar player even looks a little like John Lennon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we were a little scared, because we have this incredible talent of getting into a mess. Bad show, no people than us, getting lost, miss the concert, all of that passed through our minds... but we were brave, we faced the challenge!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't bring my camera and Daiana forgot hers! I was maaaad... we stopped at a CVS to get a disposable camera, so we could have a material memory of this day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We meet Candy (and Camila and Martha, going off to Philly, wanted to say "hi") and we where kinda late already, and the metro ride took forever. Glad I bought the tickets in advance, the think was sold out, and I was glad... at least we weren't the only crazy ones! The place is really simple, the opening band was good, we were already dancing! And everyone stiff as a rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those americans, man... c'moooon!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, they arrived! The Paul McCartney one is not thaaaat good, he sang with an accent. But the John Lennon one... MIGHTY CUTE!! He does look like John Lennon, he is how a Hello Kitty John Lennon would look like!! Daiana lost it, she was calling him cute in portuguese...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here he is (the best that the disposable-camera-that-turned-on-the-flash-when-it-wanted could do):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5154721685773014242"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R4lAD_SA1OI/AAAAAAAAGJs/H_IENoAeDuc/s288/81790015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best pic:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5154721707247850738"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R4lAFPSA1PI/AAAAAAAAGJ0/-oS8p3_RsN0/s288/81790016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were in those cutesy suits just like the Beatles... and that japanese smiles! They were so happy!! The George Harrison one was having a blast, he would come really near us with his guitar and he even played the guitar on his back!! And we where so excited and dancing and also happy. And nearly everyone around where still stiff as rocks! C'moooon!! The were playing "Twist and shout" and they didn't even twisted!!! Those people disappoint me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5154721720132752642"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R4lAF_SA1QI/AAAAAAAAGJ8/KIgq1VcrJvE/s288/81790020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not all pics came off in the end... shoootzzz!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, those people don't get happy even when they are drinking, so what's the point anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They played Hard Day's Night, Help, Obladi Oblada, Twist and Shout, Don't let me down, I wanna hold you hand, Let it be, Please Please Me, While my guitar gently weeps, I saw her standing there, Strawberry Fields (greaaaat!), Come together, Sgt. Pepper's... I mean, all the great great classics, and they played really well... and at the encore part (people shouted really hard calling them back, looked like they enjoyed it! I just wished they danced as they shouted!) they played HEY JUDE and I just looooved it! 'Cause "Hey Jude" is THE song, perfect ending! Na, na na na na na naaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Woooooooo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5154721728722687250"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R4lAGfSA1RI/AAAAAAAAGKE/1HZ3HDXnB9Q/s288/81790023.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was great, and everything worked out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course Daiana and I paid a visit to our rescuing McDonalds (or "Golden Arches of Heaven"), 'cause we were hungry.... We ate but they didn't have ice cream! HOW COME?? So we bought one at a CVS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got home at 4 am. Not that the concert last so long, but the metro+car ride is long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-933856382087240291?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/933856382087240291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=933856382087240291&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/933856382087240291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/933856382087240291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/hello-kitty-beatles-d.html' title='Hello Kitty Beatles! :-D'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-7535258819843410528</id><published>2008-01-10T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T17:01:32.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Candy</title><content type='html'>- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's a japanese Beatles cover band.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The best kind...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta love her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-7535258819843410528?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/7535258819843410528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=7535258819843410528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7535258819843410528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/7535258819843410528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/candy.html' title='Candy'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-3689274854931017929</id><published>2008-01-09T06:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T11:20:40.392-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally, the California Tales! Part 1: São Francisco!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Finalmente me dispus a sentar pra narrar a viagem à Califórnia. Vou tentar escrever o mais suscintamente possível, mas sei que, no meu caso, isso é quase... impossível? Vamos ver...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bom, se vc já está a par que a minha host family foi passar o Natal no Brasil, e que eu ia ficar sozinha, queria viajar mas ninguém poderia ir comigo, que demorei tempos pra decidir o que fazer, como sempre... e que finalmente comprei passagens pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;California&lt;/span&gt; pra visitar &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;São Francisco-Yosemite-LA&lt;/span&gt;, mas mesmo assim fiquei morrendo de medo e quase que não queria ir... Se vc sabe de tudo isso, a gente já pula uma grande parte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessoal aqui demorou umas 2 semanas pra fazer o packing, a Thaissa ficou meio fora de órbita de tão excited... Eu como sempre fiz a mala um dia antes, com parada estratégica no Harris Teeter pra fazer compras de emergência (hot chocolate mix, miojo, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pringles&lt;/span&gt;!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daiana, tadinha, queria muito ir comigo, e não pode. Ela foi tão docinho e me emprestou coisas e me ajudou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dia 21 então a Nathalia me levou no Dulles e graças ao Check-In online eu cortei mó fila (fica a dica!). Viajei pela Virgin America, que tem um aviãozinho pequeno e apertadinho, com umas luzes rosas e roxas por dentro, parece boate e tudo... rsss. Eu sei que não deveria reclamar pq as passagens foram baratas, mas gente... 6 horas de vôo e só as bebidas eram de graça!! Até a Gol, no vôo pra SP de 45 min. dá um goiabão de chocolate (uhm, saudades do goiabão de chocolateeee...). Aliás, o vôo tem 6 horas, mas eu saí de DC às 8h e cheguei em SF às 11h! E na volta, peguei o vôo às 10h30 e cheguei 6h30! Demorou pra explicar pra mamãe. Alias2, na Califa a diferença pro Brasil é de 6 horas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voltando... o legal no vôo é que tem telinha individual e é super massa, vc pode comprar no cartão uns filmes bem novos (claro q não comprei, mas é legal), ver tv ao vivo, séries e tem um catálogo de músicas, e vc pode selecionar sua playlist. E só tinha coisa boa lá. Tinha Mark Ronson!! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MARK RONSON&lt;/span&gt;!!! Nossa, a coisa até ficou melhorzinha quando vi... E ainda David Bowie, White Stripes, AIR e Arcade Fire. Em homenagem à Mariana eu coloquei "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wake Up&lt;/span&gt;", que acabou ficando a música oficial da minha viagem (é agora que ela faz a festa em cima de mim...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to do, eu fiquei lendo o "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Into the Wild&lt;/span&gt;" até quase a metade. De vez em quando eu olhava a paisagem da janelinha... era tudo tão lindo! Queria tanto ter a minha máquina comigo, ia tirar altas fotos (pun intended!), mas tava no canto isolada por um cara gordinho e sua mãe septuagenária. Fiquei meio mal de levantar e pegar a mochila. Agora penso o que teria acontecido se eu tivesse com a câmera o tempo todo, vcs já vão entender...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não aguentava mais de fome, quando desci do avião, a primeira coisa q fiz quando peguei a mala foi devorar uns cookies perto de uns carinhas (alemães? franceses?) que não entenderam nada. Talvez eu me lembre vagamente de ter deixado a mochila cair, provável causa da desgraça a seguir... Peguei o BART e cheguei já na &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Market St&lt;/span&gt;, onde já vi o bondinho e uns prédios bonitos. Indo pro hostel passei pela &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Union Sq&lt;/span&gt;. e na Post st. tem uma Disney Store que ia deixar a Martha doida... Queria deixar as coisas logo no hostel pra explorar a cidade... Depois do check in, fui pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Powell st&lt;/span&gt;, comi uma pizza, comprei souvenirs, e fui andar de cable car. Na fila, eu quis tirar fotos e quando pequei a máquina, eis que leio a tal mensagem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Please turn off camera and turn on again&lt;/span&gt;". Essa é a frase&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; do MAL&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primeiro dia em São Francisco... a câmera pifa... ê le lê... Dei uma sacudida e funcionou por alguns instantes, suficiente pra filmar o carro rodando no fim dos trilhos e tirar umas fotos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não, o problema não é bateria, é mal-contato nas lentes. Olha o zoom como ficou míope: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInCaliforniaPart1/photo#5151285046216278162"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R30KdPSAwJI/AAAAAAAAFZk/ftE-WR5f-4o/s288/P1070459.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o mal-contato não deixa ela ligar toda hora, o que foi um tormento... a cada foto que eu queria tirar eu tinha que dar um tapão dela...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bom, eu fui indo, o passeio de Cable car foi lindo, passei por várias ladeiras típicas, vi Alcatraz e o&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; oceano Pacífico&lt;/span&gt;... fui lá pertinho por as mãos no Pacífico, não pus os pés pq tava de meia-calça, não ia dar... Vi de longe a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Golden Gate Bridge&lt;/span&gt;, fui na &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ghirardelli Square&lt;/span&gt;, visitei várias galerias de arte com uns quadros incríveis. Já foi ficando tarde, eu passei na Borders pra um Cocoa Trio e fui pro hostel. Já estava me sentindo sozinha. E pra completar não colocaram ngm no quarto comigo, fiquei eu lá com 3 camas vazias...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No dia seguinte, conheci um casal de brasileiros. Dei susto neles, saquei que eles tavam falando português e cheguei falando português de repente. Eu adooouro fazer isso! As caras de surpresa são ótimas. Pra variar pessoal demora pra acreditar que eu sou brasileira. Aliás, o que dizer quando alguém fala "você não parece brasileira"? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Obrigado?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fui alugar uma bike pra andar pela Golden Gate Bridge. O carinha do rental tava explicando a rota pra mim e pra um outro grupo que tinha chegado antes. Eu preenchi o formulário e escrevi que era do Brasil e o tio viu, e disse "Ah, é brasileira, eu te explico em português!" Aí eu tomei o susto!! Ah, mas eu ri muito!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Munida com a bike, até de capacete, e minha câmera capenga, lá fui eu... Bike route pela Marina, paradinha no &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Exploratorium&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Golden Gate Bridge&lt;/span&gt;, até &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sausalito&lt;/span&gt;, voltando de barca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInCaliforniaPart1/photo#5151285643216733362"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R30K__SAxLI/AAAAAAAAFiA/cuSVGKbu3h0/s144/P1070705.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInCaliforniaPart1/photo#5151285905209738850"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R30LPPSAxmI/AAAAAAAAFlg/_kDOt4eJSj4/s144/P1070775.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInCaliforniaPart1/photo#5151286064123529042"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R30LYfSAx1I/AAAAAAAAFnc/oUwD2KMNQag/s144/P1070828.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aliás, no Exploratorium, a câmera pareceu ter pifado de vez. Bati nela várias vezes e nada. E eu ainda estava indo pra Ponte!! Não podia ser! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dei com ela no banco&lt;/span&gt; e ela funcionou... Depois disso, foi a mesma história. Ela travava, eu batia, ela funcionava, depois travava de novo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As subidas até chegar na ponte foram punk, mas a ponte em si e até Sausalito foi bem legal, no fim era até descida, então foi ótimo. Sausalito é muito fofinho, tem uma ótima vista. Passeei por lá e peguei a barca de volta umas 4h30, então deu pra ver o &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pôr-do-sol&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInCaliforniaPart1/photo#5151286613879343890"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R30L4fSAyxI/AAAAAAAAFvI/leK1BwuCmr0/s288/P1070998.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(mais fotos no Picasa, link na barra do lado esquerdo, ou clica na foto!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desembarcando, eu devolvi a bike, e fiquei andando super &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;triste&lt;/span&gt; pq a máquina tava cada vez mais crítica. Ainda estava no começo da viagem, e se ela pifasse de vez lá no mato, o que fazer? Entrei em umas lojas e vi uns preços, até que vi uma do mesmo modelo, mas mais avançada, o preço tava considerável, contei a história triste pro vendedor, e depois de muito pensar (ou não) eu comprei. Me senti horrível e fui devorar um sundae com brownie na Ghirardelli. Um casal com um bebê fofo sentou na mesa comigo e puxaram assunto, eles eram muito simpáticos e talvez tenham percebido que eu tava solitária e meio down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fui dormir super cedo lá no hostel, mas uma menina da Coréia do Sul foi dormir lá no meu quarto. Ela era muito simpática e a gente conversou à beça. Ela tava com umas amigas e tinham roubado as malas delas, tadinhas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dia seguinte, domingo, eu cogitei ir no tal lugar pra ver as baleias migrando, mas tive medo de alugar um carro, além do preço... depois de vagar sem rumo (não estava nos melhores dias) por umas ruas, decidi andar o &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Embarcadeiro &lt;/span&gt;inteiro até a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fisherman's Wharf&lt;/span&gt; e de lá ir pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chinatown&lt;/span&gt;. Andei muuuuito... Pelo menos vi os &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;leões marinhos&lt;/span&gt; no Pier 39!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/WeberInCaliforniaPart1/photo#5151435017884323906"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R32S2vSA0EI/AAAAAAAAF6A/4Igdz8tF390/s288/_1000168.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois Chinatown, depois hostel, dormir. Tava super cansada. Dia seguinte, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yosemite&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-3689274854931017929?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/3689274854931017929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=3689274854931017929&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3689274854931017929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3689274854931017929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/finally-california-tales-part-1-so.html' title='Finally, the California Tales! Part 1: São Francisco!'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6044081678348084564</id><published>2008-01-08T08:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T08:35:43.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>he's back</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Did she make you cry?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Make you break down?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Shatter your illusions of love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Is it over now?- do you know how&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Pick up the pieces and go home?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Gold Dust Woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; - Fleetwood Mac)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6044081678348084564?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6044081678348084564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6044081678348084564&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6044081678348084564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6044081678348084564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/hes-back.html' title='he&apos;s back'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-5744760953638150413</id><published>2008-01-07T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T10:19:16.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Momento literário</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Devo mencionar que achei esse poema no MySpace da Courtney Love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Better not...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Mais um Neruda!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Sonnet XVII&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;  I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;  or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;  I love you as certain dark things are loved, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;  secretly, between the shadow and the soul. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries&lt;br /&gt; hidden within itself the light of those flowers,&lt;br /&gt; and thanks to your love, darkly in my body&lt;br /&gt; lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,&lt;br /&gt; I love you simply, without problems or pride:&lt;br /&gt; I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;but this, in which there is no I or you,&lt;br /&gt; so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,&lt;br /&gt; so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-5744760953638150413?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/5744760953638150413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=5744760953638150413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5744760953638150413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/5744760953638150413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/momento-literrio.html' title='Momento literário'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-947771672527298500</id><published>2008-01-07T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T09:29:24.191-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu... ponto.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Can I get a move on?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Someone please save me from the internet and my crazy music...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to work... on my life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kdLac5Ei0Uc&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kdLac5Ei0Uc&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;ID lyrics:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Girl, if you're a seascape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I'm a listing boat, for the thing carries every hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I invest in a single life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The choice is yours to be loved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Come away from it empty of... but us"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-947771672527298500?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/947771672527298500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=947771672527298500&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/947771672527298500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/947771672527298500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/eu-ponto.html' title='Eu... ponto.'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2902154457527963201</id><published>2008-01-06T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T19:46:55.958-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It all started with a chair</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Finally got to see &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;JUNO&lt;/span&gt;, a movie I knew I was gonna like since the day I saw the preview when Daiana and I went to Reston watch "Into the Wild". That was september, I guess...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I was mad thinking that Juno would only go to selected theaters, but actually is playing very very nearby... So saturday, Daiana and I went there, I was very excited, I just knew it would be good, and the critics are getting wowed about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It is actually better... funny, sweet, crazy, and what kinda girl Juno is, I mean, she's 16 and likes the Stooges, and who could possibly wisecrack like that all the time?... but, well... she's savvy, she' witty, she's detached, she's pregnant and she's got &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Paulie Bleeker&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Paulie Bleeker is totally boss...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Paulie Bleeker is the cheese to my macaroni...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Paulie Bleeker is the coolest person in the world and he doesn't have to try! (He says he tries very hard, actually...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Paulie Bleeker is great... in chair!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;At the tic-tac scene, I was already crying. In the end, I was sobbing, really sobbing... I was crying and laughing, really nervous, I just wanted to let it out, but not with all that people around me... and coming outta the theater with red eyes and nose and cheeks, people would stare at me as if I was suppose to have no emotions at all. I mean, you guys never saw anybody crying at the movies, jeez...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I just can't not show my emotion, I can't be cold like those people. It seems like things don't sink in on them, they're just shallow and don't relate to things. I can't be like that. Quoting Daiana, "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I have life inside of me&lt;/span&gt;"!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Daiana, by the way, also got moved by the movie and started to ask me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;what are we going to do about our lives&lt;/span&gt;... and at that fragile state I could only... cry more?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ok, see it for yourself a little bit:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FeqqHjyWWtI&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FeqqHjyWWtI&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(btw: Into the Wild, best movie of 2007... Juno comes to be best of 2008, let's see if something comes up, we've only just begun).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2902154457527963201?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2902154457527963201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2902154457527963201&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2902154457527963201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2902154457527963201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/it-all-started-with-chair.html' title='It all started with a chair'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-3908584425869222501</id><published>2008-01-04T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T18:04:30.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Priceless</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5151757256395641602"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R3637fSA0wI/AAAAAAAAGAc/ac7KCSPA1AQ/s288/P1010744.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5151757316525183826"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R363-_SA01I/AAAAAAAAGBE/viGI491xEoQ/s288/P1010770.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-3908584425869222501?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/3908584425869222501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=3908584425869222501&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3908584425869222501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/3908584425869222501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/priceless.html' title='Priceless'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2023989847008325273</id><published>2008-01-04T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T15:03:19.811-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Se vc faz o ano inteiro o que vc faz na virada...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;... eu e a Daiana vamos passar 2008 &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;zuando&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Tudo começou quando, dia 31, todos voltamos das nossas respectivas viagens. Alegando que não dormiram nada no vôo, eu fiquei responsável pela Thaissa de manhã. E a Ari veio pra um sleep over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Liguei pra Daiana pra matar as saudades, e ela disse que iria passar a virada com os pais na virtualidade, ou seja, até as 9 pm. Aí veio o Greg como sempre inventando alguma pra mim... acho que ele já tinha me falado dessa tal &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;comemoração em Leesburg&lt;/span&gt;, em que todos se reúnem no relógio da Courthouse com velas acesas, que era uma comemoração família ("&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cute little family thing&lt;/span&gt;", nas palavras do próprio), com eventos em várias partes do centro antigo da cidade. Aí ele mandou eu ligar pra Daiana e ir com ela. Tá, até aí concordei, porque queria mesmo ver a Daiana, maaas... eu e ela já estamos escoladas, a gente já sacou que ia ser aquele tipo de coisa que só tem velho &amp;amp; cachorro, aquele tipo de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;furada&lt;/span&gt; que a gente seeeempre se mete. Além do mais, eu tava cansaaada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Bom, antes de sair passei a virada na webcam com a minha família... podia escutar os fogos, e eles cismavam de ficar virando a câmera pra tv pra eu ver Copacabana... less, please... Mas foi mto legal estar com eles nesse momento, vi todo mundo, menos o gato, que estava lá em casa entocado. Tadinho, ele pira com os fogos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Perguntei pro Greg se eu não podia ficar ele casa, ele disse &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;NO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;, então eu fui pegar a Daiana.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Foi muito bom ver a Daiana, pq a gente tinha muito que contar... chegando lá em Leesburg, ainda tivemos que pagar $8 cada uma, direito a botton. Tá, mas eu jurava que dava pra ficar perambulando por ali sem pagar, mas aí a gente quer fazer o certo, néaaam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Pegamos o programa e não entendemos muita coisa, fomos lá ver um tiozinho tocando violão. Já estávamos quase dormindo. Quando ele começou a cantar uma música sobre as pessoas que fogem dos seus países pra virem pros EUA, eu pensei, "agora já deu, né?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;A gente ficou planejando onde iríamos na próxima vez, o Greg disse que o coral era mto bom, e no programa dizia que tinha alguém tocando rock, então paramos para um &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;funnel cake &amp;amp; hot chocolate&lt;/span&gt; e fomos checar o tal "rock".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Era um tio com um violão... outro não, gente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;A gente abre outra porta, uma galerinha tocando country... aaafffeee...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Fomos atrás do coral na tal igreja gótica, andamos à beça no frio e no escuro, ninguém, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NINGUÉM&lt;/span&gt; na rua... chegamos lá, tudo fechado, nenhum sinal de vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Quase chegando meia-noite, frioooo, a gente entrou no primeiro lugar que tinha gente ("gente", porque aquela quantidade eu não sei se qualifica como gente). Era uma tia tocando uma marimba, que é um &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;xilofone gigante&lt;/span&gt;... Aaaai... difícil segurar o riso, a Daiana tava quase simorrendo. A gente pensa que não tem como ficar pior, quando uma pobre tia &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;collapse&lt;/span&gt; de sua cadeira, caindo de bunda no chão (será que era devido à tamanha empolgação do evento?? Duvido...). Aí que ela não se aguentou mesmo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Pra completar a tia da marimba nem nota o ocorrido e distribui pra galera vários &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;envelopes com arroz&lt;/span&gt; dentro pra gente fazer a "percurssão" pra música dela. Aaaaai... Pessoal (isso se aquela quantidade se qualifica como "pessoal") mó compenetrado sacudindo o pacotinho, tio nem percebia que tava espalhando arroz pra tudo quanto é canto... E a Daiana quasi num se aguenta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Já perto da meia-noite, fomos pra Courthouse, rapidamente pegamos uma velinha. Difícil foi alguém se mobilizar pra acendê-la. Logo cairam em nossas mãos umas folhinhas com os "crássicos" os quais cantaríamos naquela noite. Zuuuper Hit List featuring &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lean on Me&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coming Round the Mountain&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Auld Lang Syne&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Goodnight Irene&lt;/span&gt; e &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You are my Sunshine&lt;/span&gt;. Tudaver!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5151757239215772386"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R3636fSA0uI/AAAAAAAAGAM/ahR1na7piFs/s288/P1010735.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; Miacabo com a cara de Bento XVI da Daiana nessa foto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Tá di brincadeira...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;O que aconteceu foi o que segue:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="font-family: georgia;" height="373" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eWwgFgLOCIg&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eWwgFgLOCIg&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="373" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Diferente&lt;/span&gt;, néam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;E depois a gente comenta com a Nathalia e de acordo com ela, os outros ano tinha lá umas 300 pessoas, que era até difícil de passar na rua, de conseguir vela, que tipo bombava. Yaaay, logicamente esse foi o ano menos bombante da First Night Leesburg, pq aquela quantidade de pessoa não se qualificava como "evento". E é claro que o Greg não acreditou na gente, pra ele a gente está de zuação. De zuação a gente está, mas não estamos mentindo. Aquele treco foi fiascada, e provavelmente só pq a gente tava lá. Aposto que ano que vem, quando a gente já tiver no Brasil, a First Night Leesburg vai trazer show da &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Madonna&lt;/span&gt; na igreja gótica, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Paul Van Dyk&lt;/span&gt; e &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tiesto &lt;/span&gt;nas carrapetas no meio da rua, apresentação do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cirque du Soleil&lt;/span&gt;, show do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bob Dylan&lt;/span&gt; e &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eric Clapton&lt;/span&gt; no Tally Ho e &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Police&lt;/span&gt; na Courthouse... e se é pra ter country vai ter &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Garth Brooks&lt;/span&gt; e &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Shania Twain&lt;/span&gt;, essas breguices que povo aqui siamarra...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Lista das frases marcantes do dia:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;- "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;It's a cute little family thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;" Greg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;- "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Is this German?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;" Naty, sarcasticamente... e o tio ainda respondeu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;- "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Não dá pra agüentar... eu tenho vida dentro de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;!" Daiana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;- "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Daiana, pega uma vela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;." Naty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;- "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Pra que eu quero vela?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;" Daiana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;- "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Você pagou 8 dólares por ela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;- "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Me dá a velaaaaaaaaaaaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;- "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Minha vela... e meu botton!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;" Daiana, orgulhosa de sua aquisição. NOT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2023989847008325273?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2023989847008325273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2023989847008325273&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2023989847008325273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2023989847008325273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/se-vc-faz-o-ano-inteiro-o-que-vc-faz-na.html' title='Se vc faz o ano inteiro o que vc faz na virada...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-6882620030224469490</id><published>2008-01-03T18:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T18:58:31.404-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinatown</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Comprei um cd do Tahiti 80 na Amoeba Music, LA. Tipos que eu nunca imaginei que iria possuir um cd do Tahiti 80 pela improbabilidade do negócio, mas aí imagina vc adquirir um cd do Tahiti 80 por 6 dóla, aliás, CD+EP, ou seja, 2 cds néam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;É mto bom, Tahiti 80 é mto fofinho, música de loja hype, hehehe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Mariana iria se morrer na Amoeba Music. Acho que muitos que ela devia considerar uma visita, ela ia assumir que ia ser indie na hora, quando se deparar com todas aquelas raridades... ia virar purpurina de tanta felicidade!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;E aí que o cd tem essa:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="font-family: georgia;" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ultoyE2i79M&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ultoyE2i79M&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;(essa menina magrela me deu mta felicidade: encontrei alguém mais "táuba" que eu! :-D)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Letra pra dar a identificação com meu ID:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;"You know it's hard, babe (make up your mind)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;c'mon, darling (don't let me down)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;you make me feel lost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;like I'm some kind of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;country boy in Chinatown"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-6882620030224469490?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/6882620030224469490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=6882620030224469490&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6882620030224469490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/6882620030224469490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/chinatown.html' title='Chinatown'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2100001293206101409</id><published>2008-01-02T16:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T06:28:46.262-08:00</updated><title type='text'>After a long, long time...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;8 meses depois, cá estamos no Blogger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(sentiram que botei até acento em homenagem à (tem crase&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Língua-Pátria-mãe-Gentil).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Será que eu vou conseguir manter um blog à essa altura? Aliás, será que eu vou conseguir colocar aqui minhas impressões, mesmo que já tenham se passado 8 meses e muita, mas muuuuuita coisa... mta água se passou debaixo da ponte? Muita coisa boa, muita coisa engraçada, muita coisa louca...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" class="style2"  &gt;Guys, eu estava mantendo um blog no meu MySpace... acontece que o MySpace é chato e só deixa comentar quem é do MySpace e tambem eu nem divulguei e tb não queria divulgar... agora pensei em colocar os posts por aqui...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aviso que estao todos in ingrishi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bom, vai ser uma viagem no tempo, tres meses atras, quando comecei a postar... Pode catar aqui nos arquivos! Entao na verdade eu so perdi 6 meses de vida de blog, nao 8! Yaaaaay!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes de mais nada, já aviso que esse será um blog bilíngue. Então você meu amigo, minha amiga, vai poder treinar seu ingrishi com a tia aqui... ou não...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E já aviso que não vai ser todo dia que eu vou ficar teclar acentos... além de eu estar lazy e mal-acostumada, pra por acentos aqui eu tenho que configurar o laptop pra Português, e isso significa que eu aperto uma tecla e algo diferente aparece na tela. E pra completar o ponto de interrogação desapareceu. Os lá de cima eu tive que pôr com auxílio do Mapa de Caracteres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas já até tinha me esquecido o quanto de palavra carrega acentos na língua Portuguesa, benzaDeus!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gente, to com fome, vou lá comer... Menu de hoje: Panquecas!! Isso nos leva a primeira diferença Brasil-EUA desse blog (muitas ainda virão!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;table class="MsoNormalTable" style="border: medium none ; width: 479px; margin-left: 9.9pt; border-collapse: collapse; height: 172px; font-family: georgia;" border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;  &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr style="height: 124.15pt;"&gt;   &lt;td style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; padding: 0in 5.4pt; background: rgb(148, 138, 84) none repeat scroll 0% 50%; width: 351pt; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; height: 124.15pt;" valign="top" width="468"&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 8.25pt;"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Diferenças Brasil-EUA:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1- Aqui panqueca é coisa de café-da-manhã. Fazem ela mais grossinha e comem com maple syrup (não me peçam pra traduzir o que eu isso, nem sei se tem no Brasil. Deixa eu tentar o Wikipedia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;Xarope de ácer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt; ou &lt;b&gt;xarope de bordo&lt;/b&gt;, conhecido como maple syrup nos Estados Unidos e no Canadá é um adoçante extraído da seiva de árvores do género Acer, sobretudo Acer nigrum e Acer saccharum, cujo nome comum é bordo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;/td&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;SÉRIOOOOO???? Eu ia morrer sem saber dessa! Mas, voltando...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eles não conhecem panqueca de carne e etc. Então os brasileiros tem que apresentar essa iguaria pros ianques, néam? Já ouvi que é hit na casa da Daiana...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See ya!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2100001293206101409?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2100001293206101409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2100001293206101409&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2100001293206101409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2100001293206101409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/01/long-long-time-later.html' title='After a long, long time...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-2386147804090313996</id><published>2007-12-19T20:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T20:30:59.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mark Ronson falou...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;... tá falado!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;No podcast dele no MySpace, essa música está destacada pelo próprio como "uma das melhores do ano, sem dúvida".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;E não é que o cara está correto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Claro que pra mim a melhor do ano é "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stop Me&lt;/span&gt;", do Mark Ronson. Mas que "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Listening Man&lt;/span&gt;" do The Bees, é maravilhosa... aaaah, e como é!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;E o clipe... de chorar com excesso de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fofura&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="font-family: georgia;" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Opm-qsGxzNY&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Opm-qsGxzNY&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Tá que tinha na lista do podcast (que não deu pra ouvir por problema no link) uma do Junior Senior que eu não conhecia. Aí fui conhecer, né?? Simplesmente eu levei um blast de excitment, é uma música que te faz sorrir, te faz dançar, te faz ouvir pelo dia inteiro. 80's back total, vocals das tias do B-52's, o tipo de música que faz vc se sentir... bem! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;LINDAAA!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="font-family: georgia;" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YNldZU1KIIY&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YNldZU1KIIY&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;E Mark Ronson é &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;O CARA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-2386147804090313996?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/2386147804090313996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=2386147804090313996&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2386147804090313996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/2386147804090313996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2007/12/mark-ronson-falou.html' title='Mark Ronson falou...'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-1930683728749783270</id><published>2007-12-04T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T21:01:04.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Soldier of Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;"baby, I don't wanna fight no more..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object enablejsurl="false" enablehref="false" saveembedtags="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="never" allownetworking="internal" data="http://www.youtube.com/v/M5ukRkaUbMo&amp;amp;rel=1" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;  &lt;param name="allowNetworking" value="internal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/M5ukRkaUbMo&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-1930683728749783270?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/1930683728749783270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=1930683728749783270&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1930683728749783270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/1930683728749783270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2007/12/soldier-of-love-baby-i-dont-wanna-fight.html' title=''/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-715591357667513937.post-833472200438000295</id><published>2007-12-03T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T17:28:41.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Wonderland</title><content type='html'>Esse finde eu, Daiana, Martha e Camila fomos para NY. Daiana nunca foi e a Camila foi, mas não conheceu direito... a gente combinou, compramos as passagens pro busão chinês e lá fomos nós...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O melhor... vi no &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;weather.com&lt;/span&gt; que havia probabilidade de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nevar&lt;/span&gt; domingo!! YEEEY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bom, compramos passagens para uma viagem de madrugada pra poder aproveitar mais. Como a gente demorou um bocado pra decidir que vai, quem não vai, acabou que as vagas pro hostel onde a Camila fez reserva se esgotaram e eu decidi fazer reserva no Hostelling International só pra mim. Até que o hostel era perto do delas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes de sair, o Greg veio falar pra eu ter cuidado, que NY não é como Ashburn, que "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you can get killed there&lt;/span&gt;" etc, e até me deu medo. Mas genteeee... e Rio, hein? Depois dessa viagem, eu não tenho como dizer como me sinto &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;segura&lt;/span&gt; zanzando por Niviorqui...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas hein, chegamos em DC e esperamos até 1 am pelo busão. Ficamos num Starbucks, no finde eles ficam abertos! Fizemos farofada lá, a Camila trouxe vários sandubas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No busão, o tio chinês ficou estressado pq eu fiz a besteira de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;comprar a passagem pro dia errado&lt;/span&gt;! Aaaah que meda do cara kick nós out (eu e Daiana) e só relaxei quando o busão saiu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chegamos na Penn Station 5 da matina e todas fomos pro McDonald's fazer xixi. Caaaara, cada &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;figura&lt;/span&gt; lá, um mais doido que o outro. E o cara mal-encarado no banheiro das mulheres forever? Uma tia chegou e enxotou o cara de lá. Só tem maluco, mas pelo menos são inofensivos... creio eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiz check-in no meu hostel e deixei minha mochila. Não sei que me deu que eu levei um monte de roupa pra ficar só de um dia pro outro! Jeguice a minha! De lá fomos pro Central Park tomar café. Tava uma coisa linda, dia de outono, folhinhas mil pelo chão, uma beleza! A gente até se jogou, tirou foto...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5141453352384211682"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R1oclVoaKuI/AAAAAAAAD68/tl4bfh2Y2Xc/s288/DSC05956.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Meia hora depois a Daiana percebe que estava &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sem óculos&lt;/span&gt;! E toma de procurar em tudo quanto é canto e nada... Que desespero, perder os óculos! O único lugar que a gente tinha parado era o tal lugar com as mil folhas pelo chão... Mas, como iríamos achar os óculos? Agulha no palheiro total. A Daiana estava sem saber o que fazer. Voltar iria tomar muito tempo, mas se não fóssemos, acho que ia ficar pra sempre a dúvida. Então eu decidi que iríamos voltar, nem lembrava mais o tal lugar, mas a Daiana achou. E toma de catar pelas folhinhas, a Camila nem tentou, se tão absurda que era a situação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eis que...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5141453399628852002"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R1ocoFoaKyI/AAAAAAAAD7c/OjWZeIc_eNA/s288/DSC05970.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(sentiram a Martha de robert lá atrás??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nooooossa... fiquei tão feliz!! Foi como ter visto um &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;milagre&lt;/span&gt; acontecer! Tem noção como esse óculos não queria ser encontrado??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuamos a andar e saímos do Central Park pra ver se ia mais rápido. Os planos eram que eu e a Martha iríamos pra ponte do Brooklyn e a Camila e Daiana fossem pra Estátua. E toma de andar e nada da 5ta avenida acabar! E nada de achar nem um Starbuckzinho que seja pra fazer xixi! A 6ta avenida era pior, só tinha loja Dior, Louis Vuitton, não dá!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E toma de andaaaar e ninguém aguentava mais. Já lá pelas bandas do Rockefeller Center a gente conseguiu uma lanchonete camarada. Agora era fome e a Martha me vem com idéia de McMenu como sempre. Só que é preciso dizer que aquela cidade estava impraticável de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LO-TA-DA&lt;/span&gt;. Daquele tipo de caos que deixa qualquer um com fobia. E lá se foi meu sonho de patinar no Rockefeller Center! Qualquer McDonald's tinha fila quilométrica, como qualquer outra coisa por ali na meiuca. Eu arrastei todo mundo pro &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gray's Papaya&lt;/span&gt;, já que era meu sonho comer lá mesmo, e o hot dog é bom e baratin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já era de tarde e as meninas com medo de não poderem pegar a barca pra Estátua e queriam mudar os planos pra ir domingo, só que domingo a gente não podia inventar pq a Martha já ia pra tal igreja e eu não queria ter que ir de novo na Estátua. Então enxotei elas pra Estátua pra tentar a sorte e eu e a Martha fomos pra &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Brooklyn Bridge&lt;/span&gt;, já tão cansadas, caindo de sono no metrô.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gente percorreu a ponte do Brooklyn toda, não é muito longa e o visu é lindo... mas minhas pernas já estavam como né... Te contar, a Martha só paga mico e me arrasta junto, mas ela é gênio...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5141453442578525026"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/wdazzle/R1ocqloaK2I/AAAAAAAAD8A/cUNBQb3757w/s288/DSC06030.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois então que aí ela queria ir em Greenwich Village, mas acho que um tio deu as instruções erradas e a gente não achou. Pelo menos vimos Union Square e de lá resolvemos andar tipo da 8th street até Times Square, que é na altura da 46th. Insanidade, né? Mas fomos nós... Encontramos as meninas por lá. Eu e Daiana resolvemos entrar no TGI's Friday e descansar enquanto Camila e Martha foram na M&amp;amp;M store. E tudo no TGI's Friday de NY é inflacionado!!! Que revolta! A gente teve que ficar nos aperitivos, pelo menos nos demos a felicidade de dividir um Brownie Supreme!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngm aguentava mais e fomos pros respectiveis hostels dormir. Minhas pernas tavam que eu não conseguia andar. E dormir não adiantou, elas ainda queimavam...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que eu vi pela janela me fez relevar o ocorrido. Neve, lá fora!!! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SNOOOW&lt;/span&gt;! Coloquei meia mais 2 calças, uns 4 sweaters, pra esquentar e pra tirar o peso da mochila também, e vamo que vamo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomei café no Starbucks e esperei as meninas no Central Park, menos a Martha que foi pra igreja. Chegando lá, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;farofada total&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5141453601492315186"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/wdazzle/R1ocz1oaLDI/AAAAAAAAD9s/aeLNO5grXx0/s144/New%20York%20244.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5139783902891221570"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/wdazzle/R1QuOloaIkI/AAAAAAAADgc/oWd7gL2RBQg/s144/P1070076.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wdazzle/StillWeberInAmerica/photo#5139784010265404082"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/wdazzle/R1QuU1oaIrI/AAAAAAAADhU/mEszgK00p2Q/s144/P1070096.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontramos um casal de brasileiros da nossa idade, eles também perdidos. Então a gente hang out. Eles estão num programa de intercâmbio pra trabalhar e viajar os EUA inteiro. Amanda e Bruno, muito gente fina. Pra completar, vimos um tio que estava com os filhos brincando de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ski-bunda na neve&lt;/span&gt; e eu não resisti e pedi pro tio se eu podia descer no sledge. Aí pronto, todo mundo quis sua oportunidade! Taí meu video:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4c_Zt5vWugQ&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4c_Zt5vWugQ&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o mais legal da neve é que eu descobri que vc pode ver o &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;formatinho dos flocos&lt;/span&gt;. Eu pensava que era uma coisa microscópica, e que o formato não era visível a olho nu, algo assim. Mas não, vc consegue ver! É a coisa mais linda...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevou bastante lá no Central Park e todo mundo tava congelando. Nos separamos dos nossos amigos e encontramos a Martha. Queria era ir pro Central Park de novo, pela entrada da frente, quem sabe ver se dava pra patinar (apesar de não agüentar nem andar...), mas sempre rola uns delays, como parar na loja da Disney forever, a Camila queria ir na FAO Schwartz no teclado gigante do "Quero ser Grande". Aliás, a Camila queria refazer o intinerário do Macaulay Culkin naquele filme "Esqueceram de Mim em Nova York", segundo ela seu favorito. E de 5 em 5 minutos ela falava do tal filme e só parou quando eu ameacei um pedala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gente chegou a ir no Central Park, ainda tinha neve. Não deu pra patinar no Wollman Rink, though... não ia dar tempo, tínhamos ainda que achar a loja das t-shirts baratas e pegar o busão às 5! Fomos pra Penn Station e eu me espantava com aquele pessoal andando pela confusera da cidade, mó frio, com bebezinhos em strollers. Pena das crianças...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eternamente demoramos pra achar a loja das camisas e tivemos que comprar correndo pra não perder o bus. Mó confusão pra embarcar, sorte que deu pra correr no McDonald's e comprar um lanche. Sensação de alívio total, saber que estava indo pra casa. Algumas coisas deram errado nessa viagem, não deu pra fazer tudo que queria, e a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dor &lt;/span&gt;nas pernas tava insuportável. Eu gemia de dor, não tinha posição que melhorasse. E chegando em Washington, ainda tinha metro+carro pra percorrer. Cheguei em casa, tomei um banho demorado e fui dormir, mas a dor só foi embora no dia seguinte, depois de 2 aspirinas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas ver neve pela primeira vez no Central Park? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Priceless...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EYgdHpqV_a8&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EYgdHpqV_a8&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/715591357667513937-833472200438000295?l=weberinamerica.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/feeds/833472200438000295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=715591357667513937&amp;postID=833472200438000295&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/833472200438000295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/715591357667513937/posts/default/833472200438000295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weberinamerica.blogspot.com/2008/12/winter-wonderland.html' title='Winter Wonderland'/><author><name>Weber</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_u_I4WGokQEc/R3_HafSA1HI/AAAAAAAAGEE/81kAPTfUWVo/S220/wia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
