Delicata relatie a Londrei cu soarele

Mi-a luat cativa ani ce-i drept sa inteleg inefabila relatie a londonezilor cu vremea.

Dupa o saptamana trecuta extrem de calda si aproape varateca, saptamana asta a debutat cu o ploaie incapatanata si vant suierator. Ieri m-am prajit intreaga zi in parcul London Fields, nobila activitate ce mi-a infuzat sufletul de speranta, optimism si voie buna inexplicabila, iar azi m-am trezit cu un inceput de raceala, o usoara febra si o ploaie neprietenoasa prelingandu-se pe fereastra camerei mele si lingand obscen toate cladirile din oras.

Abia acum am realizat ca frustrarea mea vizavi de vremea londoneza venea din neseriozitatea sezoanelor de aici. Cultura romaneasca a vremii se bazeaza pe un soi de constanta sezoniera care, mai mult sau mai putin, garanteaza o anumita temperatura pe parcursul fiecarei luni din calendar. In Romania nu se renunta la cizme decat in luna mai si la sandale undeva pe la mijlocul lui septembrie.

La Londra, garderoba se alege in functie de fiecare zi. O zi insorita oarecare va cere cetatenilor Londrei sa se uite atent in fundul garderobei si sa scoata de la pastrare cele mai colorate, inflorate haine posibile si cele mai decoltate sandale, intrucat e posibil ca cetateanul cu pricina sa nu mai prinda o zi insorita pana la sfarsitul anului. E adevarat ca vremea rea are mai multe sanse sa se produca decat vremea buna, insa in general fiecare zi are statut de anotimp de sine statator. Londonezii sunt asadar versatili si profita de soare atata vreme cat se poate si se incotosmaneaza pe cat posibil in zilele friguroase (cu exceptia celor care deja nu mai simt absolut nici o variatie in temeperatura).

Normalitatea pentru cei ca mine e ca zilele sa aiba cat de cat o continuitate in temepratura si de aici vesnica mea frustrare legata de succesiunea anotimpurilor fara mari variatii, cu exceptiile de rigoare. Se pare ca la Londra trebuie sa fii pregatit pentru orice. Nu prea e in conformitate cu caracterul meu capricornesc, insa dupa cum se stie ca singura constanta in viata e schimbarea, se pare ca am reusit in sfarsit sa inteleg delicata relatie a londonezilor cu soarele.

Can we go back to nature?

"Hillary Smith gave back her life as an investment banker last month to save turtles [in Costa Rica]" says an article in today's London Paper. It seems that a new breed of "career-gappers" is emerging: bankers giving up banking to save the whales, rain forests and polar bears. And why would that surprise anyone. To be an investment banker nowadays is so far away from the glamour it used to project just a few months back. To be an investemnt banker nowadays means working until ridiculos hours and fearing that you might be the next one to clear the desk. So why the hell not go to Costa Rica and save the turtles?
But what makes me show a sour smile is this: why do we need a serious kick in the arse/bank account to realize that there's life outside concrete and steel, night clubs and black cabs? That we can actually go back to nature, enjoy it and do something good for somethinn/someone other than ourselves for a change...
To do a good deed... is a marketing strategy nowadays. So if you're not a retired investment banker saving turtles somewhere in a tropical paradise, Absolut Vodka brand is encouraging you to cheat the credit crunch by performing a good deed and receiving a bag of groceries at Berwick St. market tomorrow. As much as this promotes kindness and helps building a strong reputation for it (let's face it, when was the last time we saw an advertising campaign on pure kindness, not the charity related type?), I cannot help but grinning again: even kindness pays these days. Suppose I want to be associated with kindness, what should I do? I know: drink Absolut Vodka!!!
And in case you're wondering what's my point, I ask again: can we go back to nature then? Can we go back to saving the turtles from extinction and can we go back to simply being kind?... Or do we need an incentive?...

De-acasa...

Usa s-a inchis cu un sunet surd. Casa nu arata asa dezastruos cum credeam. Colega mea de apartament pare ca a facut curatenie. Probabil stiind ca azi vin eu de-acasa.
Frunzaresc posta. N-am nici o scrisoare. Mai bine.
In Londra e primavara, e chiar mai cald decat in Bucurestiul pe care l-am parasit in urma cu cinci ore. Stau in camera cu bagajele nedesfacute, imi verific e-mailurile si incerc sa ma simt ok.
De cate ori n-am trecut prin ritualul asta deja... Ma duc acasa, vin de-acasa, de fiecare data cu aceleasi intrebari in minte... De data asta imi vine mai usor, la Londra e cald si imi place cum e lumea imbracata pe strada. De ce naiba nu m-am nascut si eu in orasul asta sa nu ma mai simt atat de straina si de stinghera.
Imi amintesc zilele petrecute acasa de Pasti, de cafeaua bauta dimineata cu mama, de grija ei binefacatoare, de atemporalitatea din Romania. Cu cat ma gandesc mai mult cu atat descopar ca nu exista un raspuns la intrebarile care ma chinuie parca de-o viata: unde e acasa? Cred ca eu m-am nascut fara ideea de acasa. Cred ca eu traiesc cu adevarat numai cand vantur lumea, fara sa ma opresc de fapt niciodata din cautarea a ceva. Cred ca asta e blestemul meu si ca odata ce ma pomenesc de prea mult timp intr-un loc sufletul meu incepe sa sangereze...
Ce bizar.
M-am intalnit cu oameni pe care nu i-am mai vazut aproape de o viata si totusi parca ne-am vazut ieri. Aratam la fel, singura diferenta e ca unii au in prelungirea lor si niste copii... Ce ciudat. De fapt ce inseamna un copil sau doi. Cu ce ne schimba?... Ma intreb...

Am terminat "Umbra vantului". Am stat azi noapte pana tarziu si am terminat-o. Ceea ce la inceput imi acordam in doze mici zilnice (ca pe o ciocolata grozava din care mananci numai cate un patratel pentru a o savura pentru un timp mai indelungat) a devenit de nestavilit un ultimele capitole. Le-am devorat hulpav si am plans cand am terminat-o. Nu ma intrebati de ce. Am plans pur si simplu...

Regasesc un motiv care m-a preocupat destul de mult in ultima vreme. Cartea ca subtitut al vietii, cartea ca ghid de existenta, cartea ca alinare, cartea ca tovaras de drum... O carte care te marcheaza e greu de gasit. E ca un suflet pereche ratacind printre mii de alte carti. E ca oamenii care te inconjoara...Fete/coperti... majoritatea straini...

I have been a big fan of the Internet ever since I discovered it. It helps us be connected with a far greater number of people than ever before and it is an extraordinary powerful tool in achieveing almost anything.

However, being always connected and keeping up to date with everyone you've ever known, does it really help with adding real human value to our lives?...

Does knowing what our friends are doing and thinking prevent us from actually poping a question and finding out how they really are? Does having over 1000 Facebook friends mean that they will all be there for us to share an important moment?

I remember the times when I used to send and recieve letters. Yeah, letters on paper, written with a real fountain pen, with careful caligraphy and sometimes bearing scents and drawings. I used to love waiting for these letters and kept on reading them over and over again.

Perhaps the fact that a certain effort was invested in writing a letter made us appreciate it more... Nowadays, I have a feeling that even text messaging and e-mailing requires a big stock of interest towards someone to actually use our laptops and blackberries and send out a message. Things have become so much easier and that made us lazier. We do in fact have more free time than ever in history and we still fail to keep in touch, simply because we know way too many people.

Probably, the moral of all these is that we simply need to invest a bit more energy (whether that means texting, e-mailing, poking, smoke messaging or whatever else) in what really counts.

Just to put a smile on your face

Death Star Canteen

What we learn in life

I have learned that... I haven't learned anything.

My heart hurts as bad as it hurt when I was 18 when a guy that I liked wouldn't even look at me, or when somebody stood me up. The emotions are still as as intense as ever, the only thing that is different about dealing with disappointment when you are 30 is that is takes a bit less to recover. Recovery period has shrinked from 2 months to 2 days, which is nevertheless a progress. I have told myself numerous times that I have to stop feeling and be totally reasonable and composed about any kind of tricky situation, but when I find myself yet again in the slum all I ever think about is: I am so unlucky and miserable. Thanks God now it doesn't get long to get back on the road and keep walking as if nothing happened, but my heart (the traitoress) never forgets and it reminds me once in a while that I will always be a loser (especially in the matters of the heart).

I haven't learned that it is tricky to work with women bosses that are scared themselves that they don't know what the hell they are doing and instead of accepting the situation and make it work, I end up hating my boss for not being a man.

I haven't learned about the fact that shit happens all the time and as long as you still have your health, all your senses, two legs and two hands and a reasonably ok face, you are luckier than thousands of other people.

I haven't learned not to be afraid, because I will always land on my feet and that people can actually survive if any conditions if they really wanted to live and make the most of it.

I haven't learned to just trust that everything happens for a reason and that it will in the end be all right.

But even the things I haven't learned about at the dawn of my third decade on this planet may one day make me a wiser and happier person. I should hope so.

Spotify

I am one of the biggest fans of Spotify and have only started using it today!

What is Spotify? It is the new way of listening to music. You simply go to www.spotify.com and download the application (it literally takes a few seconds) and you can start browsing for favourite songs, albums and artists for free, create your own playlists and share them with friends and it's completely free. Yeas Spotify is the step forward. No need for waiting for songs to download, you simply search for what you want to listen to and start enjoying it. Yeah, it's true that once in a while you have to listen to a short ad, but it almost makes you feel that you're listening to your personal radio station. You can choose not to listen to adverts for merely £9.99 a month but hey, I am not bothered! You can also download the songs similarly to Itunes so you've got so many options.

Such a simple and yet such a mindblowing idea. Read about it in the papers the other day and felt that it is definitely something worth trying. I was right!