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Someone sent us their lunch.
Not your lunch.
Dear Red Shoe, want to stop feeling sorry for yourself?
Yeah.
You should take a leaf from my grandmother's book.
We got a letter from her at Christmas saying she missed us desperately.
The next thing I knew, I was taking a leave of absence from work, and I was on
plane to Rio.
The last few years of my life have been completely regimented.
Work.
School.
Work.
Work.
On the way to see my grandmother, I did something I hadn't done in a long time.
I wrote in my diary.
Just let my mind drift.
It had been so long since I had fantasized about anything.
Endless nights.
Thoughts of men.
Thoughts of a man.
A stranger.
Thoughts of surrender.
Thoughts of abandon.
Of a night of complete and utter abandon.
Any apprehension I had about actually taking a little time off for myself
I'm completely dispelled the moment I saw my grandmother.
My grandmother.
With her heart full of love and her beautiful smile.
To her, every day was a miracle.
She was 80 going on 35.
So filled with spirit.
I couldn't get enough of her.
On New Year's Eve, she insisted that we take her to the beach to join the rest
of Brazil making their annual offering to Imanja, the goddess of the sea.
When my grandmother realized I hadn't brought an offering for Imanja, she
commandeered my purse.
Finding nothing appropriate in it, She ripped out a few of the pages from my
diary and sealed them in a plastic bag.
I protested, but it did no good.
A diary, she shouted.
It's a new year. You don't need it anymore.
What better to give Imanja than your secrets?
Give Imanja your secrets, she said. And if she sees fit, all your dreams will
come true.
They say if your manju keeps your offering, if it drifts out to sea, your
will come true.
But if it returns to the shore, you're in for a whole year of bad luck.
If my grandmother only knew the secret she had offered to Imanja.
If she only knew.
Images of
teeth
sinking into my flesh, into my breasts.
Anyway, to make a long story short, come the end of February
Lent. The full moon and the beginning of Carnival.
Yep, you guessed it.
I was still in Rio.
You are really like a flower.
Your lips are the shape of mine.
You have my skin, my breast, my stomach.
And beneath them, just under the surface, you have my spirit.
Don't know if they're going to dance, Carnar.
Thank you.
you know
I don't understand.
I don't understand.
I don't understand. I
don't
understand.
I don't understand.
Imanjá, I don't understand.
Somebody, please.
Does somebody speak English?
Yes.
Yes, I speak English. Yes, I don't speak Portuguese.
Can you ask him what he's trying to say?
He said he's sorry, but he can't give you what Yemanjá asked him to give you.
Yemanjá told
him
what you want, but he said he can't do it.
He said he can't believe
What his friend translated from the words you wrote.
Where did you find it?
That's bullshit.
Ask him.
Where he found my diary.
He said, you are too beautiful and he's ashamed to do what you want.
It's for him slow is better.
To get your thighs better.
Get the back of your neck.
Abandon comes slowly.
Women need time to lose control.
Ted, if something is in your head and you write it down, then you want it,
if you're not sure you want it.
Realizar sus fantasías y poder hacer todo lo que no pueden hacer en el resto
año.
He said, look around.
He said carnival is a way to let your fantasies free.
And carnival is an excuse for people to do what they're not supposed to do.
How could I ever explain what happened to my grandmother?
He'd been swimming and seen my offering laying on the floor of the ocean.
I should have known I wouldn't have to explain.
The moment my grandmother saw me, I could see in her eyes that she knew
what had happened.
I saw your ad while I was back in L .A.
packing to move permanently to Brazil and thought that it might help you make
sense out of whatever you're trying to make sense out of.
What I'm trying to say is there is such a thing as magic.
What do you think of that?
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