Here's a thought: Furlough Mondays.

I'm a state employee and have been subjected to furloughs for the past year. They suck, I agree, but I've come to terms with it. I'm still able to pay all my bills and I tend to have to work most furloughs, meaning I bank them and use them as vacation days instead of actual vacation days, which I will enjoy cashing out when I leave this glorious state service. I know that not everybody has made friends with the furloughs, and I can't do anything to undo them, but I've got an idea that I think would make them a little more bearable. How about furlough MONDAYS?

Seriously, why did they have to pick the best day of our work week to send us all home? Why not let us enjoy the laid-back anticipatory attitude of Fridays and let us stay home on the loathesome day that everyone hates? It would be no skin off the state's back, they would save the same 15% a month from our pay, so why the heck not?

People would be WAY more tolerant of staying home without pay if they got to do it on a day they hate. Just saying.

Really? Do what makes sense.

I get pretty irritated when people do things that don't make sense. Exhibit A occurred yet again this morning as I walked to get my morning caffeine dose. Why, on God's great earth, do the guys that blow the leaves and dirt off the sidewalks have to do it during the morning rush of pedestrians? There are 24 hours in the day, and these yahoos pick probably the most populated hour to try and "clean" the sidewalks. I use clean in a very loose definition of the word, because these guys are really just stirring up dust, aggravating everyones allergies and getting us all dirty as we try to avoid them.

There is another argument for why they shouldn't do this during the work day, and it's actually their attempt to be polite. It takes these guys twice as long to do their job because they are constantly having to stop their blowing whenever someone comes within some undetermined range that all of a sudden puts them within the bubble of crap they have stirred up. Let me just say that this bubble varies by worker, and is not usually an impenetrable or contained bubble, but now we have to deal with this disaster for two hours instead of one because this worker feels like if he pauses for a bit we won't think he is stupid for doing his job.

Here's an idea: do this crap at like 7 at night when we are all eating dinner...or early in the morning when everyone is getting ready. I understsand there really is no ideal time to handle this stuff and you're always going to make someone mad but there really is no need to make half the capitol building hate you. Do what makes sense.

Watch what you watch.

Isn't it odd how just seeing something can trigger physical reactions in people? Take me watching some little piglets being born last night at the state fair. First it was excitement, then it was nausea, then it was dizzy, then it was lights out. Couldn't do it. I've never been one for guts and glory, makes me want to puke. Speaking of puke, I can't handle that either. If I see vomit, or even smell it, I too will vomit. I like to think these reactions are a sign of my sensitivity towards others. Perhaps I was physically feeling the pain of that mother sow, pain so intense it can cause one to lose consciousness. Yeah, let's go with that, it sounds so compassionate.

I'm sorry, I forgot my compass at home.

I know, it's been a while, I've missed you too. I think I was avoiding the blog because it reminded me of Rio and whenever I think of Rio I get sad because I wish I was there again. So I was having a discussion with a pal the other day and realized the topic of said discussion was a pretty important one. Important enough for a blog you ask? Absolutely.

Why is it that men always have this type of internal compass that causes them to be the worst direction-givers ever? For instance, don't tell me to head east on Main St. I am not a mountaineer, I don't carry a compass, I see no sun dial close by, and unless the sun is rising or setting I have no freaking clue which direction is east. Forward, backward, right or left, these four words should be the only words allowed in describing directions to any woman on earth.

Things are, however, looking up. I hear there's a compass app for the iphone so maybe I should get that.

It's always hot here, so just get naked.

The American perception of Brazilian’s modesty is completely accurate, these people like to be naked or close to it. They do, however, really like to dress up their dogs in little outfits and sweaters. Animal attire is often less revealing than that of their owners. I haven’t seen a one-piece bathing suit in this country, and bikini bottoms that cover butt cheeks are rare. All men wear speedos, some while riding bikes or jogging or walking around town. No body part is really left to the imagination here, a day at the beach leaves me feeling as though I’ve seen more body parts that a naughty film director. This would not actually be that bad, everybody likes to see skin, but it gets interesting when EVERYBODY wears these items, fat or skinny, short or tall, young or old. I asked a local about the concept of wearing little to no clothing when you don’t really have the body for it. He told me “A larger body is what it is, what can you do about it?” My response: “Wear more clothing.” The general rules of American decency tend to be:

1)If I can’t tell you are wearing a bathing suit because it is swallowed up in your skin, you should get a larger bathing suit with more material.

2)If you are a female over the age of 50, I should not be able to see your belly button unless I can also see ripped abdominal muscles underneath it.

3)Men have it easier because they can really rock a good body into their late age, but speedos are generally not acceptable at any age unless you are a competitive swimmer or water polo player.


That being said, I think the trade off of seeing more body than we care to see in order to see more than we normally would of some seriously great bodies has worked well for the city. Since that’s the case, let it all hang out people, even if it is dimpled and jiggly. Keep on chugging grandma, you work that thong and triangle bikini top while you jog along the beach, just be careful to not trip on those things that used to be fixed to your upper body.

Vote or...Vote

In honor of all the Californians hitting the polls today to vote in the primaries, I thought I would share some observations about Brazil's voting systems. Warning, you probably won't really enjoy this post unless you are a political junkie.

Observation #1: This country has only been voting for twenty years. They will elect their 5th president in October. Before that it was dictators and changes in administration came mainly by way of coup d'état.

Observation #2: EVERY person votes. That's right, 100% voter participation and 100% voter turn-out. If you don't vote, you do not have access to any government services. At first this sounded insane to me, but think about a politician that must appeal to the entire population in order to win. This means that the poor guy in the favelas matter just as much as the rich guy down at Ipanema beach because you know they will both vote.

Observation #3: Brazil's entire voting system is electronic. No hanging chads here. This fascinates me because, well, they've been doing this for only twenty years and they are also a third world country. We don't even do this in the United States and yet we are the most industrialized democracy in the world.

With that, don't forget to vote today. No complaining to me about this government that we live and work for if you don't vote. Show me your sticker if you want to talk politics.

Screwing with minds

Here in Rio you can’t buy a Diet Coke. They don’t exist. Diet Pepsi? Nada. What’s that you say? Would I like a coke light? Oh, suuuuuure, call it something different just to mess with me, yes, I appreciate that. They pull this crap in Europe too. Also, way to mess with my head by using the metric system, I have no idea how far 500 meters is, but if you tell me it’s a third of a mile then I’m down to jog, walk, crawl, shoot I will even roll that far. The kilo too, it kills me. This one is particularly tricky because they make you weigh your food at restaurants here, so not only do I have to compare my lack or portion control to those around me but I also have to do the math to see how many pounds of food I’m consuming and really depress myself.

This gets me to thinking how self-centered Americans are. I see this as Rio messing with me when in fact America has long been screwing with the rest of the world. Get with it America, start calling it Pepsi light and let’s adopt the metric system. Who the heck decided that naming the same exact objects or lengths or masses something different than every other country in the world would be a good idea? Sure, I get that we are individualists, we set the trends of the world, America leads and the rest of the world follows, I dig all that good stuff, but this is just unnecessarily difficult.

That's what she said.

I busted out a “that’s what she said” joke today and immediately thought about where I was. Do you think Brazilians understand the hilarity in a good TWSS? I saw a rerun of the office in portuguese the other night which, ironically, was just as funny as when it is in english. So if they have Michael Scott, I’m assuming they know the world of TWSS. I’m going to test it out before I leave, see if I can get a laugh out of one of them. A glimmer of hope: I’m rocking a goonies shirt today and I get an approving look from a 20-something brazilian guy (and no, I don’t think it’s just because he liked what was under the shirt). If this culture can appreciate awesome movies I hope they can appreciate awesome jokes. Translation of TWSS in Portuguese: que é o que ela disse. Commit that to memory folks.

Another thing, went to a futball game last night (that’s soccer for you gringos). We had heard rumors that they didn’t sell beer there, which made me wish I had done a little more pre-gaming. Well, I was thrilled to see that they did, in fact, have beer on the menu. One cold swig and I realized it was the most disgusting beer I had ever tasted, I’m talking worse than the malt liquor you mix with orange juice to make it tolerable. In looking at the can to make sure I hadn’t ordered horse piss by accident I saw the two most dissapointing words I have ever seen: sem alcool. That’s right, they had sold me an alcohol free beer because “people get violent when they drink.” Let me make one thing clear here: I have never in my life wanted to be more violent than the moment I realized these people were trying to keep me from getting violent by depriving me of beer. On top of that, game ended in a tie. I like American sports because we don’t accept ties. We battle to the end so we can gloat in our glory or wallow in our sorrows, that is the American way. Fabulous night, even with those two minor bumps.

Let the fun begin!

Alright, I made it to Rio. First impression of the city: it looks like a cross between Mexico and France. The architecture has splashes of European influence everywhere but the streets remind me of Mexico, and Portuguese is pretty close to Spanish so it sounds like Mexico too. Stuff I've learned so far: people don't wear nearly enough clothes around here. Seriously Grandpa, there is no need to go jogging in only a speedo. The sun sets around...well, it has been dark for an hour and it's 5:45. Not used to that when it has been staying light into the late evening in Sacramento but I suppose it is almost winter here, ha! Neat thing- they have lights at the beaches so it can stay "sunny" all night long, party time. Went to the beach this afternoon, the water was surprisingly cool. Not LA cool, I mean a sane human (like me for instance) would definitely take a dip, but it isn't Mediterranean warm. My hotel is literally across the street from the beach, and I have a view of Corcovado and the JC statue, which seems to be covered up for some reason...more on that when I figure it out.

Here I Go!

An upcoming trip to Brazil has prompted me to get this blog thing up and runningI'm going to journal my trip here, which is a consulting lab for my graduate program in public administration at USC. I'm almost done, in fact I've already graduated, and Brazil is my last project.I'm going to try and keep it up even after Brazil,mainly because we all need somewhere to document the insane stuff that happens to us in our crazy wandering minds. Stand by and get ready for some blogs that are insightful at their best and entertaining at their worst.