Weekend Update

Friday – Today was the day of the kids Festa das Artes at school. All the classes got together a performance to illustrate one of the goals of 2008. They all had very creative costumes, music and special effects. It reminded me a lot of the olden days, you know, the days of yore, when we had to dress up in shiny unflattering outfits and perform for the masses. A tradition that has been around since the beginning of time or at least since young Methuselah put on a show with his friends in Enoch. But that was yore, and today we were there to see the babies do their thing and pay homage to the God of Humility (King Kong), the way we did, by paying the ultimate price, our pride – all of it, like an enormous shiny banana of humiliation being handed over to the Monkey King, and we were there to witness it. We all have to do it at some point. We all pay our dues and we all pay the Mico Monkey and it has to start somewhere. We had spared our little ones from this rite of passage for long enough, and it was high time for them to pay the piper. So, without further ado, here’s how it went down:

Thing 1 did very well, actually. His class put on a serious show. He knew all the motions and was about as enthusiastic as you could expect from a 14yr old who is forced to perform in front of the whole school wearing naught but pajamas. When I say pajamas, I mean those outfits the pagodeiros wear - baggy white pants and button down shirt, only theirs were shiny, like the fabric we were always clad in at Christmas. That nice, warm, quality fabric you get at the Chinese shopping district of the city. The pants were white and the shirts different solid colors, (they weren’t flowered and for that we have to thank God for small mercies). Since everyone in the class was wearing the same thing, the humiliation quotient was greatly reduced, proving that there is strength in numbers. They won 3^rd place, which I think is great, especially considering there were so many classes and presentations.

Thing 2's class won the competition and it was very well deserved. Their theme was Equal Opportunity and their main song was “Can't Take My Eyes Off of You”, which is always a crowd pleaser. You could tell they worked really hard on their choreography and all their steps were really well rehearsed. There was smoke, confetti, helium balloons, and in general a real show. Everyone was on their feet clapping and singing along with them. It was awesome! All the boys were dressed in suits and sequined ties (one banana each, please), and the girls were dressed in glamazon style powerful women outfits representing different professions. Their prize is that they get 2 extra points for each subject, meaning that they will all pass on to the next grade without having to take the end of the year tests.

Saturday - Today I had a makeup job to do on the other side of town. I had quite an experience and a terrific adventure starting with my ride from hell on the Windy Road of Death, near Skull Mountain, which boarders Trauma Hill whose patron saint is Our Lady of Perpetual Fright. Yep, I went over the Alto in a car full of strangers whose driver was on a mission impossible to make it to our destination in half the reasonable time estimated to safely get there. He drove like a demon all the way and arrived abruptly before you could say Hospital Lorenço Jorge.

Once I arrived there I had to make up 4 different people. Here are the cast of characters: the grandmother who was part of the original cast of Methuselah and Friends, the Aunt who looks almost as old as the grandmother even though she’s technically younger, the stepmother who wanted fake eyelashes and the works (a breath of fresh air), and last but not least, the bridesmaid who was trying to organize everything and get ready at the same time.

I won’t give you a run down on everyone and how it went, suffice it to say that I had to put makeup on a centenarian grandmother who’s already heavily knocking on Heaven’s door and has see-through lizard skin – so creepy. (Note to self: If you’re still around after 70yrs, start sky-diving and paragliding, and doing a bunch of extreme sports with the hopes of making it into the ever after sooner rather than later.) Right before I was going to work on the bridesmaid she had an allergic reaction to something and her face swelled up like Shrek, only bright red. Thankfully, the antihistamine did its thing and I (the fairy Godmother), was able to make her into a beautiful Cinderella right in the knick of time.

Sunday – Dear Diary, today we took a family portrait. The kids were perfectly well behaved, my hair and make-up were fabulous, the lighting was ideal and the background was superb.

I would like to tell you that that’s how it went...but I can’t, because it didn't.

This is more or less what it was like: “Samurai Jack, open your eyes! Miojoboy, quit making that stupid face! It’s not funny! Who farted?! That’s it! I can’t take it. Open a window and let’s get this picture taken. Smile! Not that big. Take that pencil out of your nose!” Ever wonder what Purgatory’s like? I’ll tell you right now, it’s a photo shoot with your kids. That’s what it’s like, and it goes on forever, and ever, and ever. The only difference is that Purgatory is temporary punishment, so given the choice, choose wisely.

BTW, the guy I was supporting for the Mayoral elections, the lesser of two evils, didn't win. Instead, we will now have as mayor of our beautiful city Satan's emissary himself. As it turns out he won by a mere 55,000, for which I blame the fools who for the most part were home nursing their hangovers, and the rest of whom were at the beach worshiping Apollo (or more precisely, roasting like pigs on a spit), and therefore couldn't find their way to the voting booth. Let's see what the forces of evil will do to our fair town now. There's already an ominous shadow cast on us by the mammoth monument to corruption that's nearing completion in Barra, which was the work of the last fiend who ran our city. We can only hold our breath as they decide what else to throw our way that we don't need and don't want.