Life Journal

London 21/03/1990 Thursday

London 21/03/1990 Thursday

21/03/1990

So much has happened! On Sunday I went to Kew Gardens with my mum and took lots of photos.

London_1989_013A

On Monday I received a letter from Gustavo saying he could only get a place in university on the 2nd semester and he wants to come here. So I called him when I got home from capoeira. It was great talking to him, but my mum then arrived and started having kittens so I had to say goodbye and put the phone down. I even spoke to Gustavo’s father. He would be coming in May.

Since Collor came to power he has done some crazy stuff to control the inflation. He changed the currency, froze everything (i.e. salaries), locked everyone’s savings… So now Gustavo’s dad needs to see if he can afford it as he can’t get to his savings. He’s calling again and I want him to speak to my mum. I really hope he comes!

Went to Letitia’s after class on Tuesday and Mauricio went too. His friend, Gilberto, was deported on Saturday! Mauricio wants to go back to Brazil but has no money, he wants someone to tell the police he’s working so he can be deported too… One of the guys we met last Friday, when we went salsa dancing, completely fell for Letitia and he was there too. He said he was some photo development equipment he doesn’t use and that he’d give me it. I believe it when I see it. He explained to me the whole development process from start to finish. He’s properly English, he studied at Oxford! What a nice guy, and he earns lots of money. I really hope he gives me his equipment! Wow! Too good to be true.

Work: I asked for a pay rise on Friday, threatened to leave, and I got it: £2.00 p/h. Meh… Last week a new girl started, ½ swiss, ½ italian, very nice! Her name is Helena. Since Monday Joe and I have been in crisis, we barely looked at each other. Him treating me badly and me likewise. Everything he asked me to do I did stropily. Today at lunchtime it all boiled over. I really have a temper on me, I think if it was someone else I would have been fired. It all started when he told me to go and have my food and break in the stock room. I complained because everyone else can do that on the shop floor. I said I hated eating alone. He said I wanted to be the boss in the shop and was always stroppy. I went off on one about human rights and whatever else poured out of my mouth, all in English, just tumbling out. He told me to shut up and that I could leave if I wasn’t happy. I then appealed to his emotional side and said I didn’t leave because I liked him and Pat, but that he’d been treating me badly lately. And talked for another five minutes about what he’d been like lately. He looked crestfallen.

I then went to have my break outside, where I usually smoke and Helena came out. She asked if I studied psychology, because of how I spoke to Joe?!?!?!?! I felt I’d gone too far with him, I was too harsh, cruel and rebellious. He then came out to bring me a sandwich and I apologized, I think he mumbled sorry too. I never realised my English had come so far and that I could beat someone up with words like that, and play games with words. Even if I’m wrong, I’ll keep talking, talking, being stubborn. Stupid big mouth.

I went to capoeira after work. My feet are messed up, full of blisters, from doing it barefoot. Both plants of my feet hurt like hell and I have blood blisters. I went home limping. On Friday there’s a brazilian party nearby, everyone from capoeira and Letitia are going. The party is in Holloway Rd, at the polytechnic’s student union hall (*NOTE: this later became UNL, University of North London, where I got my degree in Computer.  Then it got renamed London Met). There’s a really lovely Jamaican guy in capoeira, Karl, we just laugh all the way through the class, it’s so much fun. Robinson is a great teacher!

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