And it's carnival again

28 carnivals... (guess I've just revealed the classified info, right?)
But my first one away from Brazil. I've never been a big fan of carnivals. I actually hated it. But I miss the Brazilian music, going to places where I can listen to real good Brazilian music and dance, not the 'axe' or 'forro' places that they have here in London. If I was in Brazil right now I would definitely be complaning that I wasn't in London. Just for a couple of days I would like to go to Brazil and drink a Polar and listen to Jorge Ben at Lula's and everybody aguing over where to go and where would be the best place to dance and drink... And we would end up not going anywhere and stay at his place online and drinking Polares... I miss that...
I just got back from the Pub. When I came back I saw that Ronaldo went online but didn't find me, but I just needed to get out of the house, you know? I'm basically leaving home straight to work and coming back and having pints and going to bed. Yesterday was my day off and I was willing to meet my friend Ricardo but I didn't. I just kept watching TV lying on the couch and taking an occasional nap. Paula invited me to go to the movies but I declined. She went and said the movie was pretty good, 'Good Night and Good Luck' with George Clooney.

It's so frustaring because I haven't been out, I haven't done anything cool, I've been wasting my time.
I've been acting just like my friend Claudia here, who wakes up every morning at 5am thinking about the time she's going to bed again. That's so sad, man...
I was going to buy the bus pass today, but I woke up so late that I HAD to buy the tube pass otherwise I'd be late for work. Something's gotta change.
I need a 'change of scene'. I need to get out of town for a while.
I need to go to Paris again, I guess.

I'm listening to Chico Buarque's 'Vai Passar'... Going back to the roots all the way... And it's carnival again... complaining as always...

"Tables they turn sometimes..."

Yep... Things are starting to look better, I hope...
I'm sure they are.

Sandy, a Brazilian woman who works with us told the boss today she's leaving. She's kinda fed up with working with Lazy-bastard and things got a little out of hand today, from what I gathered.
When I got there the atmosphere in the kitchen wasn't good at all, Sandy and Lazy almost yelling at each other. They got in a fight over something ridiculous and Sandy was right. Lazy-bastard's sister kinda let him have it. No-one likes to work with that guy.
And the situation is like this now: Fernando is leaving Sunday, Sandy in three weeks and Monika in April. Asha might work mornings and who's left to work in the afternoon? Yep, tables they turn, alright...

It was so funny because today it was kind of a competition between me and Elina: who would work the most? I beat her big time. Man, I was doing every motherfucker thing in that place, working non-stop. They think they can mess with me? They're so fucking wrong... But you've gottta choose your battles, right? When everybody was against me what I wanted to do was to tell them all to fuck themselves and throw all the paper cups in the air. But I waited. I just did my job and didn't complain about anything, even though I should have. Now I'm just taking it easy and doing whatever task that has do be done.
I've been feeling good.

On my way home I decided to walk to Oxford Circus. So fucking cold!!! I was carrying a 5-Kg bag (at least!) and almost went with the wind, man...
On the tube no good looking guys on my carriage to get off at Stockwell. Just a black guy in front of me sleeping, mouth half-open, nodding his head and waking up whenever the train did a sudden movement. Another person, who I couldn't tell if was a guy or a girl (it was a guy in the end) and a woman with this Kate-Moss-outfit but she was the double of MY size... so you can imagine how it looked, right?
I got to Brixton and the guy kept on sleeping... Didn't wake him up, I was listening to Foo Fighters and couldn't care less.
Tomorrow is my day off. Smoking and charging, alright...
Well, smoking donwstairs...

What a drag it is getting old...

I'm a year older now... but my age is classified information... sorry.
What a drag it is getting old, indeed. Especially if you can't celebrate the way you want.

I had to work on Friday, of course, and all the Brazilians congratulated me, which was pretty nice. I got home and started charging and smoking. 'Smoking and charging'. I was dying to meet my friends online and found Adri, alright. I think we must have typed three sentences each and my conection just went dead, and it stayed like this until now. The whole fucking weekend without internet was a drag. I kept listening to music and doing a bailinho in the kitchen, charging until 4am. It would have been good if I hadn't had to work the next day. I only start working at 1pm but I have to tell you that I thought twice about going. As my situation there isn't the best I decided to go. I looked terrible. I felt terrible. I got to the cafe and Andrea asked me 'what happened to you?' so you can pretty much imagine how hung-over I looked.

I worked in the front, just as Friday. I pretty much did everything I could, trying to find what to do even if there was nothing left to do.
Paula had made reservations at Babalou, a place here in Brixton, for 7:30pm. She would invite some friends of hers, as all my friends wouldn't be able to make it for whatever reason.
I left the cafe at 8:10pm and I stank. I had B.O. and you would be able to fry all the full English breakfast out of my hair. I just needed to go home and have a shower, which delayed me in 45 minutes.
I got to the place at 9:30pm and it was pretty cool. It's good to know that there's a place to have drinks apart from the stinking pubs around here. The thing is that everyboby left at 10:30 pm and the ones who stayed wanted to have cake in the house at 11pm. And I can't smoke in the house, as you already know.
We had cake and I watched some TV afterwards. What a drag.
I pretty much stayed at home the whole Sunday.
My friend Ricardo came from Poa for 10 days and I'm definitely meeting him this week.
My friend Junior arrived in Poland on Friday to study for sometime. I'm definitely meeting him in March! I miss him very much...

Another birthday. My first in the winter time, but pretty mild I must say. No celebrations. No booze in bars. No smoke in the house.
What a drag indeed...

I've just found 10 pounds in my pocket

Yep, it seems that not everything is that bad after all...

Tomorrow is my day off and once again I'm at home drinking alone. Not home alone, Paula is upstairs watching TV and I'm down here in the kitchen drinking my Foster's, dying for a cigarette, even though I've just had one - three actually - downstairs. Government are totally banning smoking for next year. Man, that's a bitch...
My friends aren't online. I wish they were.

Things seem to be getting a little better at work. I know my routine now, I guess there won't be any complaints from the lazy-bastard, but you never know, he's unpredictable. I broke my promisse of not buying cigarettes from him. I bought another carton of Marlboros, just didn't wanna spend my money, not right now. I'm trying to save as much I can for whatever comes. Maybe a trip if Ronaldo comes in March, maybe for the rent with Adri, maybe for another course. Whatever happens I wanna have some money put away.
And I've just found 10 pounds in my jacket...
I was going to smoke but had to change jackets because it's a little cold outside for the leather jacket, which I hadn't been using for a while because weather here has been pretty mild, between 8ºC and 11ºC... So I went for the warmer jacket. To my suprise, I heard some coins sound in it and thought 'wow, coins! cool!' When I reached for the coins there was a whole big 10-pound bill in the pocket.
Being happy with a 10-pound bill... that's happening, alright.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. The cafe was busy. It was busy until 5pm, then it went dead; of course, everybody was going home for their honeys... Before going to work I smoked a cigarette and saw everybody carrying presents, flowers, teddy bears... I felt sad. I smoked my cigarette looking at that Selfridge's across the street, looking at that Oxford St packet with people. Couples hand-in-hand. Not even Foo Fighters could make me feel better.
It's gone now.

And I've found 10 pounds in my pocket... better than nothing, I suppose.

I need music at all times

When I was on the tube this morning my iPod ran out of battery. I hate when this happens. I was in Vauxhall - two stations after Brixton - and no music at all. I need the music, it helps me to get in the mood for the day. I usually listen to something really loud and fast; Foo Fighters, of course. When I come back home, tired and dying for a beer, I usually listen to the second CD of 'In Your Honor', which is kind of acoustic and it's good to unwind.
Last Friday I was coming back home and everything was sort of strange on my way back from work. First I missed the train at Bond St, had to wait three minutes for the next one. Once in Green Park, I saw the sign on the wall saying that Victoria line had a 'good service', which means no delays. I got to the platform and the eletronic sign showed: BRIXTON 10 MINUTES. Ten fucking minutes!!! Is that a good service? Maybe up their asses.
The platform was crowded and so was the train when it arrived. No way that I would get on that shit. I waited for the next one, which would arrive in two minutes. I got in and managed to get a seat.
Brixton. I usually arrive at the station at 8:45pm, but it was 9:10pm. I wouldn't freak out, I was close to home and took my time and walked slowly to the bus stop. I could've walked home but my laziness wouldn't have allowed it.
I waited for the bus. And waited. And waited a little more. Brixton on Friday is crazy, people coming and going, already drinking, looking for drugs. On the corner there was this guy preaching with a megaphone. I don't know why they do it, do they really think they would convert those junkies on a Friday night saying that 'Jesus is the way to a better life'? It was so loud that even the iPod wouldn't block those words.
'Jesus is the way to a better life! JESUS is the way to a better life!'
Is it? Man, at that point any bus arriving would be the way to a better life. My way home to my beer...
'All material things must finish. ALL material things must finish!'
'You've gotta let Jesus in your heart. Jesus will be the judge and you've gotta let Him in your heart!'
What was keeping me from getting home? Delays all around, tube and bus. The day hadn't been one of the best either. I had a little chat with Silvio himself, he wanted to make sure that Monika'd talked to me about me not performing my job as they were expecting. Apparently being there for two months meant I would have to do everything correctly, but I didn't even know what I was supposed to do, everybody telling me what to do wasn't the best way for me to figure it out. I'm officially part of the kitchen staff, even though I have to work in front if it's too busy or when Monika is on her break, which she can NEVER take before Claudia goes home. So I have to serve costumers, make coffee, collect plates and cups, clean tables, work the machine, make sandwiches, serve soups and deliver the dishes, even though when I'm cleaning the soup area, all covered in Hungarian Goulash or whatever soup, I have to stop everything to take the food to the costumer, smile, and get back to what I was doing. Lazy-bastard doing what? Studying English.
'Jesus, Jesus, JESUS!!!'
Jesus Christ indeed. If He was so good He would send a bus to take me home.
Man, it took a while but the bus finally came, and everybody was struggling to get on like starving people fighting for a piece of bread. Pathetic. Me included.
I got home, went for the combo nbr 2, which is beer and vodca with Red Bull, and had a chat with my good friends. It'd been a while since we got together on MSN. It was worth all the suffering.

BTW, music and Foo Fighters at all times.
Paula and I are going to Foo Fighters gig on June 17, we bought tickets and it's in Hyde Park! Motorhead and Queens of the Stone Age are also playing. It's gonna be a whale of an afternoon!

Mishaps

The worst part of all this shit is having to deal with everything, wanting to punch every single motherfucker in the chin and still keeping a smile in the face.
This week has been pretty harsh. I've been so godamn pissed that I even got injured. Twice.

First of all, I managed to burn my elbow in the grill. Well, this happened last week actually, but still a bitch. I was wrapping up the chiabattas in plastic foil and was doing it near the grill, which I thought wasn't being used. I was there, doing my fucking job while lazy-bastard was cleaning the counter where he works for the 47th time - just to show that he was doing something. We were supposed to make 30 chiabattas (10 chicken, 10 mozzarella and 10 tuna). The right thing to do was me making five and him doing the other five, to finish faster, you know? But nope, I had to do it all by myself and still keep the dirty dishes being washed.
Anyway, while wrapping that shit up I suddenly feel something reeeaaaally uncomfortable going on with my elbow. Man, it was so bad that kinda got stuck to the grill. I wanted to cry, really. All he did was to say 'well, that happens if you work in a kitchen'. Well, morons do lose their tongues if they keep saying bullshit.
It's been a week and it's still kinda painful when I bend my arm.

Yesterday another mishap. It was before 3pm, so all the Brazilians were still there. I was in the kitchen minding my own business when I noticed that the front was kinda busy. I decided to help because it's all about making decisions, right? Well, bad decision it was indeed.
A girl asked for tea with a slice of lemon to take away. There was no lemon in the fridge so I went back to the kitchen to get some more. I had to cut the damn thing and asked for a knife. Fernando gave me a knife but said 'be careful because this one is really sharp'. I wanted to be fast because the costumer had been waiting for a few minutes for just a fucking tea with lemon. Well, shit happens, alright.
I managed to cut my finger in a way that the blood kept pouring non-stop. It hurt, man. All the Brazilians were like 'are you ok?', 'let's put something on it', and Fernando helped me to put some plasters with some kind of gauze. The others literally said 'it will heal before you get married', can you believe it?
Of course, I had to keep on working in the kitchen, lifting heavy trays filled with cups and plates, doing all the dirty work. Didn't complain. Do you wanna know what lazy-bastard did? Kept studying English and even asking me questions... I answered, but he was so dumb that didn't understand much. Well, shocking news...

Today it was good because it was the Brazilians in the back. We talked, laughed, kept complaining about them in their faces and smiling at the same time. I love it...
Tomorrow is my day off. Finally. Hair salon appointment and then beers with my peers!

"The mojo is gone"

I remember when Ronaldo came back to LA after being here in London and he said 'Fers, the mojo is gone'. I think it kinda happened to me as well.
Until a week ago I thought things were going pretty ok at the job. I was getting along with the manager and thought I was improving, maybe in a way that within a while I would be promoted to do cash up or something. I was wrong.
Apparently people are not enjoying my work there and the manager told me today that 'there's been some complaining for the staff' - the staff meaning the easterners.
Man, I think they want me to quit or something. They sure have a problem with me and it kinda got me so frustrated because I'm trying to do the best I can to learn everything.
The manager said I have to start doing things without being told what to do. The problem is, when she tells me to do some kind of job five minutes later another person comes and says I mustn't do that. What is that, man? Are they fucking playing with me or something? I'm too old for this shit, man. I'm not there to have a ball with friends, I'm there to do my fucking job and go home at 8pm and get paid on Saturday, that's it.
Again I ask myself: am I that dumb that I can't even do something that basically anybody can? Hey man, I'm just trying to do things properly and sometimes getting the job done and being fast can't be in the same sentence. The manager was nice, though, I think deep inside she kinda likes me, otherwise I think I would've gotten sacked already. I know exactly who's been gossiping and I just hate their fucking asses for that. Especially the "chef", who's actually a fucking cook. I think he didn't like when we argued about the sweeping. Oh, he's the great authority and I said my thing and he sure doesn't like when people don't do as he says. He's a bastard, alright.

I don't don't know what's gonna happen now, I might be fired, I might stay there. I'm sure looking for other things to do.

There's always something... - Vol.2

There's always something, somebody...
A few weeks ago I wrote about how good things were at work, that I'd finally found a job which at the end of the day, even being tired, I could say 'It's been a nice day'. Well, things might change and I'm always the last one to know - of course, they were talking behind my back.

What's the most difficult thing for me to understand is why people are constantly trying to fuck other people, not sexually. I mean, if I was working for a multinational and the position of Senior-Executive in Europe was being offered to the one who has the best results, fine; but gossip in a cafe? Come-fucking-on!

Yesterday was my day off and I was so happy about it. I studied in the library, walked on Oxford St trying to find a coat (unsuccessfully), went to Tesco Trafalgar Square, saw a cute guy, bought a bottle of vodca for the weekend, got the bus home, had dinner with my sister, watched a pretty good movie - 'Beyond the Sea', Bob Darin's biography - and went to bed ready for the next day.
Class was ok, had lunch and some cigarettes with my classmate Minsoo, got to the cafe and started working.
At the end of Claudia's shift she says 'I need to talk to you about what's been said about you'. I freaked. 'What's going on?'
Claudia tells me that bastard Rafel was talking to Silvio about me not cleaning things properly in the kitchen. They had problems with the dishwashing machine and it turned out that it was dirty. Well, I didn't work the day before, but it was my fault for sure. The girls in the morning don't clean the dishes before throwing them inside the goddamn thing (I found a plastic spoon inside the filter) and it's all my fault. Now the guy thinks I don't do anything right. Another thing she told me was about finding something to do when it's not busy. I always try to do something no to be just standing there, but sometimes there's literally nothing to do, so I drink some water (I'm humam, I need it to be alive), go to the bathroom, talk to the others a little. But THEY can read the paper or talk on their mobiles or with the boyfriends who pop in.

I got so mad and Claudia noticed. She said to me not to be upset, that she just wanted me to know what's been going on and that I should be careful with them, because they're always scratching each other's back and I'm the one out of the loop. I must have said ten words the whole afternoon, wasn't rude but wasn't nice either. I just did my fucking job and waited for 8pm to come, and it kinda came fast.

I just said 'bye, see you tomorrow' and left. Bastards.
I'm soooo pissed. Soooo pissed. I still have three more days this week to work. Looking forward to Sunday, which is my day off again.
I'm pissed at the bastard who likes to gossip. I bought some cigarettes from him last week and today he asked me if I told other people that he's selling cigarettes. I said I did but they weren't interested at the moment, but I'd let him know if someone wanted it. Yeah, right.... Me buying cigarettes from him again? He wishes... I rather pay double than giving that bastard my money.