Don’t let us go alone to Amsterdam again

Margarida, this one is for you.


She is my best friend for 10 years now. Shit, we’re old! We met on the first day of high school because it was meant to be. As we got to know each other we realized we lived in the same street while growing up, our families moved around the same time and we ended up living in the same street again. We never stumbled upon each other before and we were living less than a mile away from each other. This is how my life goes. Each day something happens to prove that it’s all meant to be.

She and I share crazy stories. I chose to tell you this one about our short trip to Amsterdam first.

First time we visited Amsterdam together we were 18. Actually, I was 18 and she was 17. We were little rebels. We visited Amsterdam again for the second time this past December. It all started on a Summer afternoon and I was, as usual, procrastinating. Dear Easyjet sent me an email: “Winter Discounts”. I took a look at it and there it was, Lisbon – Amsterdam – Lisbon for 60€. I only had 20 minutes until I had to leave for work so I ran to my phone and called her letting her know that we were going to Amsterdam. In fact, that’s pretty much how we make all the important decisions in our lives.

Fast forward a couple of months and December was here. My college semester was almost over but still had a ton of tests and papers to deliver. But I didn’t give a damn for 3 days and packed my stuff. I was ready for Amsterdam. Or at least I thought I was.

One of my favorite things about traveling is to get to know all the people I’m sharing my hostel room with. I always pray for Australians. So far that never happened. But still, hope dies last and we spent a 3 hour flight imagining all different scenarios but always with a common element: Australian roomies. First thing we noticed as we walked into the room is that it smells like men! Oh my God, was it happening? Were we going to spend 2 nights sleeping in the same confined space as Aussies? As we were starving at that moment we decided to wait for the Aussies later and we went exploring the streets of the Red Light District. That’s were the hostel was btw. Location location location. I don’t know if you have ever been in Amsterdam but that’s a confusing city. The map is all in Dutch and there are as many canals as streets so after 10 minutes of looking at the map, we gave up.

You take your own conclusions.

By that time we were two lost girls in the middle of the Red Light District starving at 8 pm. Don’t judge us for our next decision. A random Scottish guy appears out of nowhere. “Hey, are you lost?” he asks. “YES! And starving, do you know any place we can grab something to eat?” “Sure, I know this Italian place and I can take you there.” Every other person would refuse to follow the strange man but Débora, Margarida and Scottish guy were on their way to the restaurant. (I’m starting to realize I follow a pattern of trusting guys I’ve just met. I don’t think I have a bright future ahead of me.) Even though I made the decision of following a strange man, I was still trying to pay attention to where we were going just in case he was kidnapping us but Margarida was more interested in getting to know this guy. He was Scottish and apparently from a wealthy family but one day he decided he didn’t want to have that comfortable life anymore and left it all behind and moved to Amsterdam. Why Amsterdam? Just because. He then told her he was on some kind of spiritual journey a.k.a. acids and was also homeless. Red flag enough? We didn’t think so, we still were following this guy. I’d say we spent an hour until we were finally able to ditch him and by that I mean the owner of the restaurant he was taking us kicked him out. I prefer to remain oblivious to why that happened.

We had fun during the next couple of days doing all the Amsterdamish things. All of them.

By this time I think you’re able to realize that Margarida and I don’t usually make the smartest decisions and we couldn’t leave Amsterdam without proving that one more time. Our flight was at 9 pm which means we had to be at the airport around 7/7.30 pm. At 5 pm we had another brilliant idea that came to us out of boredom. We still had some leftovers from our Amsterdamish experiences. It’s obvious we should go to our favorite coffeshop and take care of that.

Best stupidest decision of my life. I couldn’t keep track of time so I set an alarm for every 15 minutes, I’m not sure how we got to the airport because the train ride from the city center to there was something worthy of a Californication episode. I was Moody and she was Runkle. I don’t know how we passed through security. I just don’t know.

I only started to feel better when I was on the plane and it was already up in the air.

The roomies weren’t Australian. Maybe next time.

My Aussie boyfriend for a weekend only

Last minute decisions.


I just realized he’s online on my Facebook chat and all the memories rushed to my head.

By now you should know my modus operandi. Tinder. This time, I’m going back to April 1st when I matched with an Aussie guy. His pictures suggests he travels a lot and that he is good looking but not that good looking but since he’s Australian and I’m known for fainting just by hear their accent, I swiped right. We’re a match!  He immediately sends me a message and I engage to the conversation.

After chatting for a couple of days we decided to meet for a drink. I was working till 11.30 pm that day so the only option we had was to meet around midnight. I know, I know…booty call alert!!! But still, I said yes. Do I need to say again that he’s Australian? I’d meet him at 6 am just so I could hear him talk! At 11.30 pm I nervously rushed to my car. When I got to the place I sent him a message and he replied almost instantly. It said “I’m by the McDonald’s add”. I could see that add from where I was and there was in fact a guy there. But it was definitely not the guy I was expecting. I approached him and he recognized me. It took me a minute to take that all in. I was REVERSED CATFISHED. That means he was EXTREMELY HOT. Not just good looking like I was expecting. I remember telling my best friend “I’m going to have a drink with this Aussie guy but he’s not THAT kind of Aussie guy”, that means he’s not like this:

Screenshot_2015-04-29-18-20-06

But I was reversed catfished and he DID LOOK like that! Here I was, standing in front of a blonde Chet Faker doppelganger losing my shit. I don’t know how I was able to say “Hi” and I definitely don’t know how I was able to spend 2 hours talking to this guy. That accent…I’m losing my shit just to think about it. He never made any move until it was time for me to leave. That was when that Aussie god put his hand on my knee and leaned in. I think he was going for a kiss and I gave him my cheek. Classic Débora.

Next couple of days we kept on messaging each other. I couldn’t forgive myself for unwillingly turning him down and I knew he was traveling across the country with his family so one day I decided to check where he was. He replied saying he was going to spend the weekend in Porto. I was supposed to go to Porto last month but had to make a last minute cancellation. He then said “It would be awesome if you could join me”. That little sentence was the devil’s advocate. I went to work and told my friend about this recent Australian affair. He talked me into going to Porto for 5 hours. This was on a Thursday night. I was on my way to Porto on Saturday morning. In case you don’t know, and I bet you don’t, it takes between 3 to 4 hours to get to Porto from Lisbon.

As soon as I got there I sent him a message. We were meeting for a drink later in the afternoon but then he had tickets for a football game I really didn’t want to go. Again, still no idea how I spent another hour listening to that accent. We agreed on meeting after dinner.

Since my orientation skills are as good as my German, I got lost a lot and couldn’t find a place to grab some dinner. He hadn’t had anything to eat as well so we decided to meet at a restaurant and have dinner together. I got there and there were 3 Australians, 1 New Zealander, 2 Canadians and 1 Brazilian waiting for me. What a group! We had a pleasant (and cheap!) meal and went straight to the city’s nightlife area. Damn it was crowded! We got into the first pub we saw. I needed alcohol by that time I was still not used to the accent. Mojito after mojito and sangria after sangria I was finally able to try to boost some dance moves. That and my onesie were the hit of the night. The other people were slowly leaving the pub because a) they were still suffering from jet lag and b) they are not used to party until late at night. Eventually it was Aussie guy and me. Tipsy me. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t speaking proper English by that time but hey, he was understanding me. This is a little side note but earlier on that day he told me what pashing means. For those of you who are not familiar with Australian lingo, pashing is, and I quote, “an Australian term for heavy duty kissing between teenagers.” Bear this in mind.

So Aussie guy and tipsy Débora are alone. Aussie guy makes a move and I’ve learned from my mistakes. This time I don’t give him my cheek. I was so proud of myself and what did I do immediately after that? “Hey, what’s that word you taught me earlier?” Aussie guy cracks up.

Let’s just say it was a successful night and that eventually I could pass beyond the accent.

On the next morning we had breakfast together and I was proudly showing of my Australian boyfriend. I just wish I could post his picture here for you to understand. You’d high five me if you saw him!

He’s back in Australia now. We still message each other from time to time and it’s a lot easier when you don’t have to hear the accent! He was my first Australian boyfriend and boy was I off to a good start.

Oh my!

So, I was nominated for my first award ever! The Liebster Award!

Thank you so much Rob for nominating me. Let’s see if I can honor the system.

lieb

There are some rules to follow.

  1. Thank the person who nominated you on their blog with a link to your post.
  2. Display the Liebster award on your blog.
  3. Nominate up to 10 bloggers for this award.
  4. Ensure these bloggers have less than 500 followers.
  5. Answer the ten questions asked to you by the person who nominated you, and make ten questions of your own for your nominees.
  6. Lastly, COPY these rules in your acceptance post.

I’m going to start by answering Rob’s questions.

1. What country do you blog from? 

I’m from Lisbon, Portugal and I’m currently blogging from there.

2. What was your favorite childhood movie?

This is a difficult one because I watched a LOT of movies growing up. But I think my all time favorite is Peter Pan! All that never grow up stuff is all I ever dreamed of.

3. Cats or dogs?

Even though I have both a cat and a dog, I must confess I’m a dog person.

4. What kind of music do you prefer?

I’m picky about everything in life and I’m extremely picky when it comes to music. Right now I listen a lot of alternative/rock/electronicish music. Chet Faker is constantly on my playlist.

5. Coffee or tea?

Coffee. I can’t stand hot water with flavor.

6. What’s the most daring thing you’ve done?

I’m struggling with this one. I think the most recent daring thing I’ve done was camping in some State Park in the middle of Missouri in January. The Missouri river was frozen. I still don’t know how we survived. I’m not quite sure if this was daring or just plain stupid.

7. Beaches or amusement parks?

Beaches. When you live in a country with some of the most beautiful beaches in the world you forget amusement parks even exist!

Dona Ana’s beach in Lagos, go check it out!

8. What is your favorite song today?

1998 by Chet Faker.

9. What are you reading now?

I’m reading a book my best friend wrote and it’s not published yet. BFF privileges!!

10. Name a place that you would like to visit some day.

I’m going to name a place I’ll DEFINITELY visit some day, beautiful Melbourne.


Now it’s time for my nominations. I decided to choose just two blogs because I have so much work to do for Uni I still didn’t have the chance to read a lot of them.

  1. Off Campus 101
  2. Veg me now

I’m asking you guys just 5 questions. I hope it’s ok I broke the rules on this one!

  1. What’s your dream travel?
  2. If you had to live in other country that’s not where you currently live, which one would you choose?
  3. What’s your guilty pleasure song?
  4. Shopping spree or TV marathon?
  5. What’s your oldest childhood memory?

I think I followed every rule and I hope you guys have as much fun doing this as I did. It’s a great procrastination method!

I left my sweatshirt in KC

This is a love story without a happy ending


If you read the section “About me” you know by now that I once traveled for love. This is that story.

(I should REALLY be writing that paper but my inner self doesn’t let me focus on that!)

It all started on a hot day during the beginning of July 2014. I was having fun, school year was over and I had 2 and a half months all for myself. My daily routine consisted on going to the beach and binge watching TV shows. Tinder was a recent thing in my life and I was pretty much addicted at that time. There’s something about having the power to choose from a guy catalog that forces me to keep swiping. Summer is Tinder high season in Lisbon. For every 10 guys, I’d say 7 aren’t Portuguese. There I was, swiping. Until an american guy appeared on my screen. He is about my age, judging from his pictures he travels which automatically draws my attention to him. I swiped right. And I’m a picky swiper, not being Portuguese is not my only criterion. On my Tinder profile I suggest I enjoy a clever pick up line and that works great as a conversation starter. He went for that. He dropped his pick up line and guess what? Made me laugh. We chatted during that day and it was an interesting conversation. When I told him I live in Sintra he told me he was planning on visiting the next day. He invited me to go and since I had nothing better to do I accepted.

The next morning I arrived early at the place agreed. He was a bit late but that’s ok, every extra minute I can get to prepare myself is useful. I got the text, he was there. I saw him. He was actually cute. Oh, it was also my first Tinder date! I immediately felt a weird connection to this guy and later on that day I found out I was not alone on that. I took him to Quinta da Regaleira, my favorite place in Sintra. We had fun exploring the tunnels and gardens as we were getting to know each other. I never felt like he was going to be a hookup. I took him to the beach for lunch. I took him to a small empty beach. We sat there for hours just talking. I was impressed by this guy. He was smart, he had goals in life and we shared a lot of the same interests. We sat there quietly for a while looking at the ocean. I wasn’t thinking about anything at the moment. I was just there, with a guy I met for the first time that day, thinking that I was actually going to miss that moment in the future. And I do. As I write this I realize that maybe I’m not over him. And I really thought I was.

Eventually it was time for him to go back to his Air bnb place. But neither of us could let go. He had a plane to catch early in the morning so we knew this wasn’t going anywhere. I drove him back to Lisbon and took him to Bairro Alto. That’s where everybody goes to have a drink. We had that drink. We still couldn’t let each other go. We don’t know why. By that time it was around 2 am and he had to be at the airport in five hours. We made that time count.

Next morning he told me that his flight was delayed. It was a 5 hours delay. I mean, that never happens. This is real life, this is not a movie. We never get extra five hours with the person you love. I don’t know if it was love. But it was something extraordinary. Those five hours flew by. Next thing we notice we’re at the airport. This time we had to let go.

It took him 8 hours to get to New York City. I spent that time mainly crying, watching the movies he had suggested me and re-reading all the messages we shared.

We developed some kind of relationship during that summer. We texted and Skyped every day which is not easy when there is a 6 hour difference in between two people in love. We were determined to see each other again. And we did.

I arrived in Kansas City, Missouri in January 2015, 6 months after we first met. Again, I was the one getting to the airport first. I got the text. He was there. I ran to his car as he was waiting outside. We couldn’t believe we were face to face again. We only had 10 days together. We made those 10 days count. We were a regular couple during those 10 days. But then we had to say goodbye again. It’s hard to say goodbye, it’s even harder to say goodbye when you don’t know if you’re going to be with that person again. I gave him my sweatshirt and he gave me his. At least we know this was real.

Eventually he stopped replying a couple of months after I left the States. I don’t know why. He never told me. But I learned from this. I learned that if you ever love somebody you have to go for it even if it ends up in nothing. I loved him and he loved me. Not for long but it was enough for him to be a part of my life forever, even if we never speak again.

Am I a blogger now?

I just want to know for sure.


It’s been a week since I started this and I now have 12 followers (uh uh) and more than 60 likes on my Facebook page. Does this mean I’m a blogger now? Or is this my newest form of procrastination? It’s definitely my newest form of procrastination. I should be writing a paper for Uni and I’m writing this instead.

I’m not sure if this is normal but since I started blogging I’m constantly thinking in blog form. Like, everything that happens to me I say “I’m going to write about this!”. I even carry a notebook now! Look at me, miss blogger with her notebook. An old school one, not electronic.

When people ask me what I do I feel like saying “I write for the Internet!” even though I’m not getting paid for it. They don’t need to know that. I have never attempted to write before but this is becoming an addiction. I don’t know if I’m any good, I never had a writing class in my life but I know I like doing this.

I’m still not sure if I’m a blogger but since I still have a ton of ideas, you’ll have to put up with me for a while. For as long as I have tests and papers to deliver, I’ll be wasting my time writing.