Wow. New to me.

According to wikipedia.org

Livia Drusilla, after 14 AD called Julia Augusta (Classical Latin: LIVIA•DRVSILLA, IVLIA•AVGVSTA[1]) (58 BC-29 AD) was the wife of Augustus and one of the most powerful women in the Roman Empire, being Augustus' faithful advisor. She was also mother to Drusus and Tiberius, grandmother to Germanicus and Claudius, great-grandmother to Caligula and Agrippina the Younger and great-great-grandmother to Nero. She was deified by Claudius who acknowledged her title of Augusta.

While reporting various unsavoury hearsay, the ancient sources generally portray Livia (Julia Augusta) as a woman of proud and queenly attributes, faithful to her imperial husband, for whom she was a worthy consort, forever poised and dignified. With consummate skill she acted out the roles of consort, mother, widow and dowager. Dio records two of her utterances: "Once, when some naked men met her and were to be put to death in consequence, she saved their lives by saying that to a chaste woman such men are in no way different from statues. When someone asked her how she had obtained such a commanding influence over Augustus, she answered that it was by being scrupulously chaste herself, doing gladly whatever pleased him, not meddling with any of his affairs, and, in particular, by pretending neither to hear or nor to notice the favourites of his passion."[23]

With time, however, and widowhood, a haughtiness and an overt craving for power and the outward trappings of status came increasingly to the fore. Livia had always been a principal beneficiary of the climate of adulation that Augustus had done so much to create, and which Tiberius despised ("a strong contempt for honours", Tacitus, Annals 4.37). In 24, typically, whenever she attended the theatre, a seat among the Vestals was reserved for her (Annals 4.16), and this may have been intended more as an honour for the Vestals than for her (cf. Ovid, Tristia, 4.2.13f, Epist.Ex Ponto 4.13.29f).

Livia played a vital role in the formation of her children Tiberius and Drusus. Attention focuses on her part in the divorce of her first husband, father of Tiberius, in 39/38 BC. It would be interesting to know her role in this, as well as in Tiberius’ divorce of Vipsania Agrippina in 12 BC at Augustus' insistence: whether it was merely neutral or passive, or whether she actively colluded in Caesar’s wishes. The first divorce left Tiberius a fosterchild at the house of Octavian; the second left Tiberius with a lasting emotional scar, since he had been forced to abandon the woman he loved for dynastic considerations. Ancient testimonies are lacking, but it may well be that Tiberius’ deep-seated antipathy towards Livia is rooted in these two events.

The concept of one

I should post here more often...
So much happens and I never write it in here. So many feelings are mixed up these days...I've been doing some great things and accomplishments with my life, these days.
I changed some habits. With my current living condition (living in an apt where I am not friends with the people I live with) has made me want to stay out of the house. As much as this sounds awful - I made SO many new friends - not to mention the fact that I've been talking to people that I completely had lost touch with.
Starbucks became my "office" and the J-school my second home.
Leaving the J-school to me will be the worst part about leaving IU.
Honestly, I never felt any close to IU. Girls here were so annoying and boys...Oh God. Stay awaaayy from the American boys
Not only because they do not have any idea on what a good kiss is (I am not the only one with this opinion. I swear!) but because there is a huge lack of charm and knowledge on the art of flirting. Also, because sorority girls would irritate me to the extent.

However, I am surprised. The coolest girls I met this semester were from sororities. I completely fell in love with the girls I worked with on my J-school campaign. They were all so kind and positive (and the few ones to show concern on my broken foot and on other tough times this semester)
So - about that - I got it completely wrong.

The boys - I don't know. And I honestly am not interested in knowing.

The J-school.
Oh God. A piece of my heart is there, in Ernie Pyle hall. Nerdie - I know. But the enthusiasm of all professors I had there really made me excited on how to practice good journalism and what it means to be professionaly passionate.
My PR professors are amazing people. My campaigns professor is inspiring. I guess everyone has a professor that motivates them to be a better student - and he is definitely will be that for me.

My friends, right now, are great people.
Breaking my foot taught me that in the end of the day the only person you can ALWAYS count with is yourself. I was so pissed off how almost everyone disappeared and some - like my roomates - never even asked if I was ok as I struggled to open the refrigerator.
However, I am glad that the few people that were there were more than awesome - and I so fortunate to have these few amazing friends.

So far, I also noticed how the whole family thing can vanish at times. And that family is the one you make for yourself.

And best of all - I've been doing pre-tty well on my personal battle of figuring out my culture. Again, I figured you have to make your own culture. Expecting that people with similar backgrounds will value the same things you do is like asking to be disappointed.
I always think of where I came from - and my grandpa. Thinking of my grandpa really puts my feet back on the ground. All this "nhem-nhem-nhem" I've heard this year - really upset me. So hey - you know what?
I'll stick to my Brazilian roots - even though (even my mom, on her way to her "soccer mom" ways) not everyone chooses to do so.

I am a firm believer of the concept of being multicultural and still sticking to what you've - ethnocentrically - learned was right. I am a Brazilian, I do put olive oil in everything (and talk as loud as hell!) and love my J-school.

In the end of the day - The best role model you can follow is yourself.

Love--

Ana Livia

Aint no talkin to this man
Aint no pretty other side
Aint no way to understand the stupid words of pride
It would take an acrobat and I already tried all that
Im gonna let him fly
Things can move at such a pace
The second hand just waved goodbye
You know the light has left his face
But you cant recall just where or why
So there was really nothing to it
I just went and cut right through it
I said Im gonna let him fly
Theres no mercy in a live wire
No rest at all in freedom
The choices we are given
Its no choice at all
The proof is in the fire
You touch before it moves away
But you must always know
How long to stay and when to go

And there aint no talking to this man
He's been trying to tell me so
It took a while to understand
The beauty of just letting go
Cause it would take an acrobat n
I already tried all that

Im gonna let him fly

The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.
-Coco Chanel

Back to Black

Welcome to the US - once again.

I must say - the reason it took me so long to write here again was that I needed to face the fact that I am back to the US. The land of dreams that brings me back to reality.

This Starbucks with windows that face the IU Sample Gates takes me back to the one on Atocha with the marvelous view of the Reina Sofia. As much as this thought brings me extreme nostalgia and a bit of depression; it brings me the infinite gratitute for having this opportunity. I lived the dream.

I wish my grandpa was still alive. I remember him saying that after he came back from Spain he was ready to die: he had done everything he ever wished for. Since then, I keep searching for these moments that makes my life so worth to live. Being in Madrid was one of those - maybe the most important till now.

I will never forget the long walks down Gran Via, alone, at night. As much as Spaniards would piss me off and Complutense people at the cafeteria were rude; and as much as I wanted to kill my neighbor - Spain gave me something that no one will ever take away from me.

The best friends I ever made in my entire life were the ones I had in Madrid. The best roomates I ever had, were Katie and Christian. The best Napolitana was the Mallorquina one. And the best tortilla for sure was the one at the Edificio B.

The nostalgia of sitting in the metro and walking around Sol are priceless.

I wouldn't say that I am ready to die. Much the contrary. Spain was that little spark that opened my eyes to what's ahead in the world. That people are people no matter where - even crazy Moroccans or annoying Italians with their roses on fountains! - and that we all feel the same way. We express ourselves differently, and this causes so much conflict in the world.
Travelling and living in a place with a different culture (for the second time!) taught me that conflict only happens when we close ourselves to the unexpected. To the strange and to unfamiliar.
When we open our eyes to the world, we are able to see that behind all that expression and habits, lays a person that feels happy the same way we do and that cries the same tears we do.

So - back to Starbucks - I feel happy that I was able to learn that. As much as I want to cry because I miss Madrid, I can always say a part of my heart lays in the streets of Madrid, right around the Paseo del Prado.

With love,

Ana Livia

This is my last week in Madrid.
I remember creating this blog for "journaling" my trip and all I did was post songs about this trip :P

Anyways, today I was trying to study - I did just bit - for my last Complutense exam, and had such an empty day. I hate days like that - the weather was cloudy, I was so bummed right in the morning, and with no plans for anything especial for the day. And here we go: that's my day. Ended by a fabulous 2 cans of light coke (who lead me to infinite trips to the toilet and feeling super hyper)
I already packed one bag (!) and there's still so much I feel. I am feeling a bit worried about everything to get ready once I am home. I've been sleeping like crap - keep waking up with stupid dreams. :P
I dont know...

These 2 last weeks have been a little hard. Most of everyone is busy doing something else, studying, traveling or already gone. And going through Madrid would be fun - but alone? It's a bit depressing. Well...staying in this apartment it's not that appealing either. I just hate these empty days when you don't do much and your head thinks too much...you know?! An empty mind is a house for the devil, and I hate myself on those days. I only think of stupid things, I feel lonely, ...just stupid. I need to do something...I really need. This is pathetic.

I am excited to go home - mainly to see my family, David and start my things again. It will be my last year at IU and I have no clue what to do afterwards.

Well, this song is one of my favorite Shakira ones...And it couldnt be better for this moment.

Te dejo Madrid ( I leave you, Madrid)




"Pronto estaré de tí, muy, muy lejos"

:)

Two songs I heard a lot this year...Hopefully it will work for me to go see her before leaving to U.S.

:)

"Ooooh,you're changing your heart,
Ooooh, you know who you are."
-1234,Feist



"...We'll collect the moments one by one
I guess that's how the future's done..."
-Mushaboom, Feist