[ME], MBA, PMP, OCD

Well, I am finally ready to blog away (boy, that sounded really corny). I am not sure if there is a protocol to follow when creating your very first blog post, but I figured it’d be safe to start with an introduction. So I will start by saying that, as the title above suggests, I do have an MBA degree, a PMP certification and OCD. The latter of the three acronyms being the most important one. You will eventually see (read) why.

I was born and raised in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The marvelous city, where the biggest Carnaval party in the world happens every year, where the statue of Christ The Redeemer overlooks and blesses the whole city, where the sea meets the mountains, and where people drive dangerously enough to almost kill you. If you’ve ever been there and got in a cab, or a bus, or a friend’s car, or simply dared to leave the airport altogether, you  know what I mean. Three-lane roads have 4 or 5 cars next to each other, red light means green light, green light means green light, and yellow light…well, yellow lights are nonexistent. They decided to just skip them all together. After all, what is the point? But regardless of the color blindness epidemic that has created a traffic nightmare, Rio is indeed a marvelous city. It took moving to a whole different country for me to realize how beautiful it is.

So, why leave such a wonderful city? Long story short, I was offered a scholarship to be a student-athlete at a university in the U.S. and thought “Hey, free education! No, free American education! After I graduate, I will go back home with my American diploma and I’ll be rich!” I was 18 and had it all figured out. So I accepted the offer, packed my bags and got on a plane. A plane that stopped in Atlanta and then took me to the South. Ahhh, the South. My future coaches had mentioned “The South” when they offered me the scholarship. Must be beautiful! I have seen those college campuses on TV shows and  movies before. It will be magical. I can already picture myself walking to class on a warm autumn morning, a light breeze, gorgeous blonde American boys waiving at … Wait, what? We are about to land? Is that what the pilot just said? He spoke too fast, my English is not that good yet. Could you repeat that, please, kind sir? S-L-O-W-L-Y! Please! All I see from up here is trees! Where are all the buildings??? Did I get on the wrong plane? OMG, what do I do? Panic takes over …and the feeling quickly worsens once I realize I am indeed on the right plane, going to the right city. I’m in “The South”. What have I done?

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