News from the Pool: A Touch of Brazil

The summer progresses as readily as I digress, and despite some romantic theatrics this weekend (quite the debacle I can assure you), the pool is still where the heart is. So imagine my delight Sunday when the numerous Brazilians who live at my apartment complex, as well as their friends, settled in for a long afternoon at the pool with guitar, maracas, and another small percussive instrument I didn't recognize. Even better, the handsome one with the dimunitive frame (picture a Brazilian Jack Kerouac) had a fantastic voice. The icing on the cake - I don't understand a word of Portugeuese, and could enjoy the music without the clickity-clacking of that overdeveloped part of my brain that fusses over words.

A peculiar time for me. While this weekend marked the culmination of my anxieties over an attraction of the unrequited variety, it was also distinguished by a great time dancing with a friend. One couple were transformed beyond sexy on the dance floor, venturing into the realm of the gods to a samba beat. We did our best and had a lot of fun, because of and in spite of the constant attention of our instructor.

This is a rare entry for me, more about myself than usual. A peculiar time indeed...