You never know what's around the corner...

Or so they say.

I have noticed that most achievements of my life have been preceded by long periods of waiting for something good to happen. I don't remember having at least one spur of the moment thing such as: winning the lottery (it's true that I don't play the lottery but let's say somebody else plays for me and I win :), encountering love at first sight, getting the perfect job after just one CV sent etc. Now that I think about it, it looks like most people's lives. Yes, people, life is like that! You have to wait a very long time for it to happen!

However, once in a while there are stories of people that reach my ears and I am perplexed by how fast things are moving for some people. I am 30 and don't really feel that I am running out of time, but I feel I am running out of things that I enjoy doing... I guess my life needs an upgrade, a major change to bring me back into the "awake" mode. I felt like that when I started my new job last year. Now I just feel "sleepy"... And I can't just blame it on the weather.

Well, so far, what's around the corner is this: a ski trip, a trip to Thailand, a long week-end in Istanbul, 2 weddings this year (soon I may become a professional wedding guest) and hopefully many other things that I can only dream about.

Ce fac eu in ianuarie...

Dorm mai mult decat de obicei si nu mai reusesc sa ma trezesc de dimineata decat in ultima clipa si intarzii la serviciu cu consecventa. Imi amintesc lunile in care ma trezeam cu o ora inainte, luat si micul dejun si imi beam si cafeaua inainte de pleca la munca...

Citesc foarte mult. Recuperez zilele pierdute in care nici nu am binevoit sa deschid vreo carte.

Merg la sala ca o nesatula. Drept urmare m-am propcopsit cu cea mai dureroasa febra musculara din istorie. Ma tem ca mi-am rupt vreun muschi...

Din cand in cand scriu. Nu scriu chiar doua pagini pe zi asa cum mi-am propus initial, dar macar e un progres.

Fac economii la sange si constat ca nu e imposibil.

Ma pregatesc de o noua vacanta in Thailanda. De data asta mai pregatita, ma avizata, mai avida de informatii. Vreau sa fac "the most of it" de data asta. Si stiu ca asa va fi. Am o partenera de calatorie grozava!

Mi-e foame tot timpul. M-am rotunjit. O vreme mi-a fost indiferent, dar acum vreau sa fiu in forma asa ca, indata ce-mi trece febra musculara ma avant iar la sala. Cred ca varsta, nu mai am nici o scuza sa nu fac eforturi sa arat bine. Timpul nu iarta.

Visez la o familie... Cam atat...

"Train to Trieste"

Mi-a sarit in ochi numele autoarei, Domnica Radulescu, in timp ce cautam o carte sa citesc spre Canare. Am luat-o din raftul mini-librariei de aeroport WH Smith si am decis s-o cumpar. Cumva ma asteptam sa ma regasesc in povestea Monei Maria Manoliu care a fugit din Romania in anii comunismului si apoi s-a stabilit in America.

Ma asteptam la o poveste despicata in profunzime, la o drama de proportii asemenea cutremurului din '77 care e mentionat si el in carte, ma asteptam sa umple niste goluri dar m-am trezit in timp ce-o citeam ca pufnesc intr-un ras ironic sau imi dau ochii peste cap gandind in sinea mea "vezi sa nu".

Se vede treaba ca autoarea a scris-o direct in engleza si e plina de referinte adresate cititorului neavizat la adresa lucrurilor specific romanesti gen "mamaliga", "visinata" sau "mal, copil, mosneag" - cuvintele romanesti de orginie dacica - care rup naratiunea si, mai pe romaneste, pica precum nuca-n perete. Nu stiu, ceva din felul in care a fost scrisa ma face sa cred ca a fost gandita in romaneste si scrisa in engleza. Pe alocuri are imagini puternice si simbolistica precum scrumul de tigara luat de vant care atrage atentia intr-un moment de intensitate etc. Dar sunt rare, foarte rare. Imi place totusi utilizarea imaginilor olfactive, da sens emotiilor personajelor.

Ceva din povestea de iubire o face neverosimila, nu reusesc sa inteleg intensitatea pasiunii dintre Mona si Mihai, trecerea granitei pare mult prea usoara, eroina pare sa dea numai peste oameni de bine care vegheaza asupra ei, la nici un an de la sosirea in State preda Engleza pentru refugiati si colac peste pupaza il intalneste pe Tom care o invita la o seara dansanta si apoi o ia de sotie, culminand cu intoarcerea in tara si regasirii cu Mihai. Nu contest ca poate fi o poveste adevarata, insa nu-mi suna a realitate. Eu insami sunt o emigranta si ma aflu de aproape 7 ani in UK si inca n-am dat peste nici un Tom care sa ma ia de nevasta la nici o luna de zile. Instrainarea de Tom nu e veritabila, pana la sfarsit n-am inteles de ce a divortat de el, sincer parea un tip foarte de treaba. Singurele personaje de care m-am lipit au fost cei doi copii ai ei care m-au facut sa ma apropii un pic de ea si sa nu mai fiu asa aspra. Nu stiu, e ca o mancare nemestecata bine care nu iti pica tocmai grozav in stomac.

Trebuie sa recunosc insa ca pentru o scriitoare neexperimentata, autoarea a urmat o linie narativa oarecum omogena si a avut elemente care au dat pe alocuri consistenta prin repetitie, dar putea sa transmita mult mai mult...

Ma rog, nu vreau sa fiu prea virulenta, la urma urmei ce imi da dreptul?... Nu e ca si cum as fi scris eu vreo carte mai grozava.

Insa vorba ceea: cine nu stie sa scrie, sa se faca critic!

Xmas in London after all

For most of us Christmas is a family affair, is the time of the year when everyone is going home (wherever that may be...).

I had planned carefully this year to go home for Christmas, took time off from work for a reasonable amount of time, meant to spend Christmas with the family at friend's villa in the mountains and had planned this major party for my 30th Birthday on the 30th of December. It's been months I have been thinking about it and the closer it got to the moment of actually going to Romania, I realized I didn't have a Christmas turkey dinner this year and still missed on the nice cosy pub nights with friends for having working so long hours during December and by leaving, I was leaving behing a lot of "unfinished" businesses and many friends I hadn't seen in a very long time with whom I didn't manage to catch up and wish Merry Christmas to.

Something was still missing when I left the house to go to Gatwick and catch my flight. Deep in my thoughts I completely forgot that London's been snowy these days and major delays were bound to happen. As probably predicted, I had problems with getting to Gatwick and when I thought it was all just a matter of time before getting to Bucharest, I had the surprise of finding out that, 3 hours later after boarding the plane, our flight got cancelled due to adverse weather conditions.

Somehow it's happening every year. For 10 minutes of snow, several flights got cancelled and many others delayed. After a painful wait for luaggage, explanations from the airline, train and bus, I finally got back to my London home at 11 pm, after being away for 12 hours. I called the Customers Services Line next day and only got an alternative flight on the 26th. Funny enough, other people I know managed to fly out yesterday and today by flying either different airline or from a different airport. It seems that I wasn't meant to go home this year.

It seems that home isn't home anymore. From this year on, London is my home and funny enough I am actually quite glad I got to spend Christmas here together with all the other expats that don't have a family here nor they are going home for the holidays. I am being posessed by a very weird feeling: do I even want to go home anymore?... I wish I can just bring my mum here to be with me and have friends visiting as I am really tired of going home and trying to recover a feeling that is long lost and to realize every time that life just goes on on both sides and that there is less and less tieing me to my own place of birth. I started to love being in London, the specific Christmas atmosphere on the streets, in the pubs, in the shops, anywhere, the food, and don't even miss the Romanian food nor anything else for that matter...

I know it's not nice to say it, but I kind of felt relieved that I don't have to go home this time. I am enjoying the days off, my own company or the friends that are still around and planning for the New Year. I do miss my friends back home too, but I seem to be in the impossible situation of combining both worlds...

I am not sure yet, but my whole trip to Romania might just be cancelled... I am still debating it with myself and even though my 30th Bday is just a few days away, this time I don't even care. It's just another day and most importantly I am happy enough as not to put all the pressure on a simple day when I happened to be born 30 years ago. I can make each day a celebration of the fact that I was born and that I am alive...

Let's just be friends!

Intr-o lume a relatiilor dintre barbati si femei care si-a pierdut de mult consistenta, am tot dat in ultima vreme peste o inventie relativ recenta: "prieteniile".

"Prieteniile" sunt in general relatii promovate de barbati, ce se caracterizeaza prin apelarea la beneficiile unei relatii, fara implicita tragere la raspundere si fara eventualele responsabilitati (care nu se mai definesc de mult prin ducerea gunoiului, repararea becului ars din baie sau montarea antenei satelit, ci doar prin un minim aport de respect si atentie fata de partenera) pe care o relatie in adevaratul sens al cuvantului le-ar putea eventual implica.

Reteta este in general aceeasi: la negocieri barbatul pune pe masa o "suma" infima mizand pe efectul "take it or leave it" care de regula da rezultate cu majoritatea celor de sex feminin.

Problema e ca, desi femeia nu ar fi total satisfacuta cu perspectiva oferita, dupa cateva nopti bocite, isi sterge lacrimile si decide ca mai bine "prietenie" decat singuratate si este, asadar, gata sa accepte orice.

Pana aici, desi reprobabila, metoda nu este complet de neinteles: doi adulti negociaza si ajung la o concluzie de buna voie si nesiliti de nimeni. Ceea ce mi se pare absolut condamnabil este ca reciprocitatea este de obicei aproape egala cu zero: totul se desfasoara in functie de programul barbatului si, desi femeia ia si de aceasta data fraiele in mana si propune un plan de actiune, dumnealui decide ca e un prea mare efort si pana si "pica para malaiata" e deja prea mult de indeplinit.

Nu intamplator am decis sa dezbat acest subiect. Imi pare ca in ultima vreme, "prieteniile" s-au inmultit ca ciupercile dupa ploaie si din pacate il gasesc un fenomen ingrijorator. Personal mi s-au propus prea multe "prietenii" in ultima vreme spre a le mai considera fenomene izolate si chiar colegei de apartament imi pare ca i se intampla ceva similar cu iubitul ei de 10 luni care dupa ce a parasit-o recent pe motivul ca isi dorea sa fie "single" din nou, acum se infrupta din plin din dulceata unei "prietenii cu beneficii minus responsabilitati" incat mi se pare de-a dreptul tragic s-o vad cum i se schimba starea de spirit de la o zi la alta de parca ar avea dubla personalitate si cum nesiguranta si influenta nefasta asupra spiritului a unui asemenea gen de relatii te poate face intr-un final sa-ti pierzi complet respectul fata de propria persoana.

Ma concentrez din plin in ultima vreme sa nu mai gandesc in clisee, sa nu mai generalizez, sa nu mai pic in plasa de a fi tentata sa strig in gura mare ca "barbatii sunt niste ticalosi" (asa cum o fac cele doua colege ale mele de apartament de cateva zile incoace) si sa nu mai am prejudecati despre barbati, insa intr-o lume in care "prieteniile" au inceput sa devina ceva normal, ma tem ca increderea mea intr-un viitor luminos in cuplu are nevoie de intariri serioase.

Si ca sa inchei totusi pe un ton optimist, am sa-l citez pe prietenul M. care, intrebat recent de o femeie nemultumita de ce barbatii sunt niste porci, el a raspuns candid (si e absolut adevarat!) ca el nu este unul dintre ei si ca nici prietenii lui nu sunt.

Relatiile sunt ca piata economica. Atata vreme cat mumncitori din tari in curs de dezvoltare accepta sa faca aceeasi munca pe bani mai putini, patronii isi vor urmari propriul interes si vor angaja forta de munca mai ieftina. Atata vreme cat vor exista femei gata sa accepte "prietenii", barbatii se vor multumi sa le vina totul usor, fara efort si fara responsabilitati. Dar la fel ca si intr-o economie stabila, atata vreme cat exista un loc de munca pentru fiecare, vor exista si oameni care nu vor rosti din nou temutul "Let's just be friends!"...

DTM (Don't Trust Men)

I had this perfect date on Friday. He was on time, the conversation was great, he was spontaneous (he took me for a midnight movie out of the blue), held my hand, made me feel like the most amazing woman in the world.

At 6 am this morning I received a text from him informing me that he got home ok after a crazy night (x). It hit me that he probably meant to send it to another girl and sent it to me. My initial reaction was to get upset and conclude that men are all the same, not to be trusted one inch.

I have trained myself to see the adverting signs if someone "is not that into me" but what do I do when there are no signs and he seems so much into me? How do you deal with men being such incredible actors and so talented seductors? I used to complain that lately men make no effort to conquer a woman, that the ancient art of courtship has been lomg forgotten and that it would be great for a change to find a man who makes a bit of effort to make me feel speacial. What I didn't take into account was the men who did make an effort to make me feel special - but did they really mean it?...

Despite what everyone would think, my reaction was very chilled. I decided that I will not play victim ever again and two can play this game, I can be in control of my own feelings and lead the whole thing. Better yet, be detached and laid back and see where it goes. After all, if he is on the market, I find it pretty normal that he may be reviewing other candi(dates) as I am doing the same. The best will always win.

Men are not the enemy. But they are not our friends either.



Today, my friend A. brought me flowers. She cut the pink roses nicely and professionally arranged them in a vase and offered them to me. It was the most honest and emotional gesture I've seen in a long time. Who needs a man to bring me flowers, when I have real friends to make my life so beautiful and rich?

DTM!

Random thoughts

I carry this little black book with me everywhere. I am trying to write all sorts of observations on it whenever something strikes me in an attempt to make sense of the world afterwards (when I have the time supposedly, though I've learned you never HAVE the time).
Went through it earlier and here's what came up:

"Had a panic attack in Piccadilly Circus today - I don't want to be here" - that was just before I started a new job.

"Stuck in the middle" - that came out when I realized that I am neither a complete woman of the world satisfied with just being social nor an artist living in another dimension, therefore, stuck in the middle, never reaching a goal in one world or the other...

"Must remember the other idea I had as I was going out of the tube this morning" - I never did. I still wonder what that was, it seems it was quite a big idea, but clearly not very impactful.

"Am I the Wrong Type" - already asked some people for feedback and got no answer. Concluded I don't care and they are dickheads.

"Would I have done things differently" (Night train from Lisbon, the book I was reading inspired me) - answer: absolutely not, I am entirely perfectly happy with the choices I made in life. Though I haven't reached my ultimate goal, I know for a fact I am on the right path. I may have chosen the most difficult one, but that's why I am a Capricorn.

"Big Book about Helen of Troy" - yeah, what is that anyway? Someone in the tube was reading a huge book (the size of a dictionary) called Helen of Troy. Why would anyone write so much about Helen of Troy? She was just the reason to start a war, no personality whatsoever.

"A former relationship diminishes is time. All you feel like saying is just: it didn't work out." I remember the times when I felt I had to explain why. Not anymore.

"Today I followed a pregnant woman at Liverpool Street station" - sometimes I follow people around. She was beautiful, amazing, like a riped fruit, wrapped in a geometric print maxi dress. I followed her around thinking how happy she looked. I wanted to steal that feeling from her and absorb it myself. Like Grenoiulle of Suskind's Perfume, find a way to capture that inner happiness she was trailing behind her. Some people may now think I totally lost my mind.

"The most boring Big Brother. I actually liked it."

"Obsessing about the past. Fear of history repeating!" - I still do it.

"Victoria Beckham lives in airports"

"I refuse to be a victim!"

"Breaking-up season"

" Helen was trying to compensate her hectic lifestyle with a compulsive cleaning disorder" - a story about a crazy woman called Helen told by my new friend K., I find this idea fascinating.

"Relationship success - apply the rules!"

"Don't overlook the signs (trust them). Don't trust words" - don't remember what I had in mind when I wrote that but anyway it seems to be true for any given situation.

"You can't avoid change. It's better to embrance it that reject it."

"Must not blame ourselves when things go wrong. Sometimes we try our best and still fail. There are things in life beyond our control. It's just how it is. All we need to do is pick up the pieces keep on walking. Look only in the eyes of the future" - no comment...

Reality is...

...that life is a matter of perception. Perceiving life through different angles comes from where you're standing. I'm standing pretty comfortable at the moment and that shows in most aspects of my present life.

It's as simple as that. Call me old fashioned but I am trying to thank God every day for what I have and make the most of it as if there's an expiry date on good fortune. As if if I don't eat the whole cake now, I will regret later. It's like the times when you wished you had enjoyed a kiss longer, or absorb more sunshine before the sun was gone, or speak more often to your parents, live more and sleep less...

These days I feel I don't make lot of sense. Maybe because it's all so intense that I can't really describe it.

I also noticed that, though I don't rejoice on other people' misfortune, it makes me be more grateful for what I have. I now realized what Camus meant by "pain is spiritual food". I wonder if pain gets the worst out of people. I suppose it does. It's usually good fortune that makes you go out and reach other people, trying to help and spread the positive will.

Reality is that we have no power over things. We can be fortune's fool anytime. Roles are changing, cards are played, people are never the same, there are lessons to be learned. I hope I have learned mine. Reality is... do I really know?

Wising up

It's the little things. It's the little things you notice about yourself that make your step stronger when you're walking on the street, it's when you find yourself singing along your new favourite band while getting ready to go out, it's the time you take to put on the make-up in the morning and feel good about yourself, ready to start the day with confidence. It's the long hot bath you take in the evening after coming soaked up from work and actually be fine all by yourself.

It's the time I am talking to be all by myself and be comfortable all by myself. It's being me and loving it, not fearing that I should be somewhere else, with someone else, on another planet, in another era, in another life, in a relation-ship, in a different country, in a different body. I am perfectly fine where I am and I thank God for finally opening my eyes to really see that.

I used to carry around a Greek tragedy, absolutely convinced that a bad karma is following me, that life is supposed to be all about pain and suffering, wanting all that I couldn't have and punishing myself for not getting it. It must come from a generic soul that I share with my country fellowmen, living with an inferiority complex doubled up but an insatious desire of having it all.

I used to think that I am unlucky in love. I used to honestly believe that, just because I am an incredible, smart, cultured, funny, desirable woman, I would charm any man would cross my path and just because of bad karma I wouldn't get too far. Somehow these days I think that being great has absolutely nothing to do with it. Clearly it helps, but now I finally wised up to believe that men only want what they can't have and it's the same as with training a dog: apply some simple rules, work out a conditional reaction. I finally got the answers to all my love life melodramas: making yourself available is not a sign of honest reciprocal interest, but pure stupidity.

Somehow I am amazed by how simple life can actually be. Making it more sofisticated attracts complications. No wonder intelectual people are a romantic wreck - they think too much and instead of working out how to deal with basic instincts, they try and reason their way around and blisfully fail.

It's the little things. It's waking up in the morning, wearing a nice red dress and feeling fabulos knowing what I know about myself and that will suffice for now.

Time of change

Sometimes months go by and you lead such an insignificant life that you have nothing to say. And sometimes it only takes 2-3 weeks to fill your life with events that simply blow your mind and carry you away.

During the past month I have done/achieved the following: visited Switzerland, changed my job, made a lot of new friends at work, took surfing lessons in Cornwall (two things I have wanted to do in a very long time - surf and go to Cornwall), assisted a TV pilot show in Covent Garden and found the cheapest and most amazing gym in central London and kind of met someone in between. I would say quite a handful there.

Extrasenzorial

Sunt zile in care simti ca nimic bun nu se leaga emotional. Sunt zile in care privesti in trecut, la seria lunga de relatii nereusite, unele de-a dreptul neefectuate, moarte inainte de a se naste, si ai constiinta ca de fapt, nu ai avut parte niciodata de o relatie completa, care sa te satisfaca sufleteste si sa faca parte si din categoria celor care iti confera un anumit statut in social. Te intrebi asadar nu fara motiv daca nu cumva e prea tarziu ca soarta sa-ti mai surada si zambesti amar rememorand ultimele esecuri atat de recente incat inca dor. Te miri daca nu cumva dintr-un motiv necunoscut nu te-ai nascut cu calitatile potrivite pentru asa ceva.

Sunt sambete in care te trezesti iarasi cu un gol imens langa tine si ca sa te faci ca-l ignori te apuci de curatenie prin casa cu un exces de zel de parca nimic nu e mai important pe lume. Si totusi deodata, in timp ce freci temeinic, ai constiinta ca te afli in cea mai fericita ipostaza posibila, ca esti mai norocoasa decat poate mai mult de jumatate din populatia globului si ca probabil cea mai mare fericire care trebuie savurata e ca familia ti-e sanatoasa si ca cei dragi te asteapta oricand cu drag acasa. Lacrimile iti curg pe obraji odata cu clabucul de pe vasele pe care le speli cu ardoare de parca viata ti-ar depinde de ele.

Sunt seri cand observi cerul Londrei de parca ar fi pentru prima oara. Esti pe malul Tamisei si pentru prima oara te bucuri de ceea ce te inconjoara. Cerul spre inserat a capatat o culoare de un albastru violaceu, ingalbenindu-se pe margini acolo unde imbratiseaza cupola Catedralei Saint Paul, unde se infiltreaza prin roata uriasa si acolo unde contureaza Big Benul ca o imensa mantie protectoare. Nu te poti satura de aerul de vara tarzie, de linistea pe care o porti in suflet de cand ti-a fost revelata, de cerul incredibil si de aerul ce-ti intra si-ti iese din plamani cu o candoare care te sperie. Te uti la cladirile din jur si parca le vezi pentru prima oara, privirea iti cuprinde universul inconjurator cu o acceptare care nu necesita explicatii si atunci iti devine clar precum lumina zilei ca meriti mai mult si ca golul de langa tine nu trebuie sa fie gol, poate fi plin, daca doresti...

Cleaning up my act

I've said it before and will keep repeating it until it gets stuck to my brain for good: approaching 30 is a joy and not a tragedy.

The truth is I am observing changes within myself and this is a great thing. Firstly, I am quitting smoking (well not completely, I am still a social smoker but managed a few good whole days without smoking at all), reducing the amounts of alcohol I bring into my body (perhaps not the daily recommended dose, but at least reducing when I can help it and drinking strictly when I go out), getting myself involved in all sorts of fun activities (tomorrow I go disco roller blading and sunday indoor climbing) and not getting impressed by someone being a gentleman because this is how they should be!!

Honestly, I had to find that out because of my age and even if I will have to spend my whole life looking for the perfect gentleman Spanish Speaking Irishman (lol!) I am not going to tolerate anymore the lack of manners and also not be so impressed by a man just doing his job.

The only thing that confuses me is how come I haven't seen this before? All this was in front of my eyes, at my reach and I wasn't able to see. I wasn't able to see that I can go on living without smoking, heavily drinking and tolerating men with no manners. I have finally cleaned up my act and I congratulate myself for it.

We're not getting older, everyone else is getting younger...

It's becoming obvious: I am developing phobias towards "shoreditch teenage groupies", rude people and show offs.

I have been thinking about this for a while: it seems to me that people my age (let's call them middle-aged) are dissapappearing from the scene. Slowly slowly London nightlife is being taken over by teenagers. Not only this disturbs me, it really depresses me.

I had a completely awful Friday night when after attending and eagerly awaited Underground Bingo event which turned out to be a massive dissapointment I ended up in an even more disapointing gay club where ladyboys patronisingly ruled the place.

Not only that all the attendees of the much awaited Bingo night (except for our group) were part of the Society of Scary Shoreditch Teenagers, the queues to the toilet were an absolute torture and getting a drink from the bar a serious adventure who could have possibly left injuries and scars. I was wearing heels thinking that playing bingo meant also sitting down while playing, but it turned out that there were no seats and by the time my bladder was nearly exploding, so were my feet. I suggested to the others that we either went somewhere else or I was happy to have gone home as I couldn't have taken it anymore. We agreed on leaving and after painfully walking for about 20 minutes I felt the need of sweetening the night up with a double cheeseburger at MacDonalds (it was an emergency, ok?!). We then headed for the Bathroom Club where we had to pay entrance fee to a heavily maked-up ladyboy wearing a huge and ridiculos bow on his head. I always like to try out new places, but ending up in a gay club wasn't really going to make me feel better. I am sorry but when exactly being a normal middle-aged person trying to have fun on a Friday night out has become out of fashion?

Pretty much depressed I headed home wondering where have all the normal people gone...

I hoped to erase the memory of a depressing Friday night by trying to compensate with a better Saturday night out. It seemed to me more than reasonable to try and find new areas hoping that normal people were still around somewhere. We went to Camden Town (I really had better memories about that place) as friends planned on going to a cheesy disco club (which sounded pretty safe and fun to me) in the area. After waiting in the line and nearly getting in, my friend and I, decided to make a run for our lives after noticing that all the people in the line were the kind of people that were asked to show an ID to get in. I couldn't handle anymore teenagers. That moment I realized that I had developed a phobia.

Sadly, I realized that I cannot handle the situation anymore. The secret to a successful living it is not Diesel brand, but the group of people that you associate/socialize with. I am seriosuly wondering where are the normal people and all the normal places to go out and still enjoy life when you are in your 30s. Better yet, how will people enjoy themselves later on, what happens with the ageing people? Where do they go when teenage invasion will become truly unstoppable?... I wonder...

On a different page

Just read Douglas Coupland's "All Families Are Psychotic" and it's a great read. It's like a Tarantino film on paper. So American and dynamic. Kept me reading and going, full of advetures and twists, funny and reliably crazy. However, I wouldn't really call it mindblowing literature. I suppose it would be a good movie if Tarantino directed it.

What truly shocks me though is the below:

"On Thursday afternoon, Katie (Price aka Jordan) was launching her novel Sapphire at London store Selfridges.

She said: "It's my 32nd book I've got out, so I'm really proud. It's a good read, a good summer read like all my others."... "I've got a style book coming out in October and even if you can't read it's a good book, it's got lots of pictures."

Her 32nd book??? When the hell did this happen?... And I can't bring myself around to write a stupid short story thinking it wouldn't be good enough. What the hell! There must be enough "idiots" out there to read my stuff if Jordan's books are good summer reads!

Coming of age

I guess it's happening. I have been thinking about it for a long time and couldn't really grasp what the problem was... Now I know. I am joining a whole new age group.

What are the changes?... Well, I started jogging again, I almost quit smoking (I only smoke when going out), I am not going out as much anymore, I don't drink that much or that often anymore, I am becoming simply more conscious. I realized that I must look good and feel good about myself. It is all I got left as I am no longer irresponsibly young. My fantasies about decadence are slowly fading away. I suppose the only way to live the life you never could have had is by writing about it.

Joining a new age group and getting admitted into a whole new category is pretty scary at first. I suffered a lot when I realized I was no longer a child and it took me quite a while to embrace the teenage years. When in my early 20s I realized that I was becoming a mature person, it scared me and pleased me in the same time. I was still young enough to be irresponsible and yet mature enough to do things without asking for parental permission.

Until recently, at the dawn of my third decade on this planet, I felt I was running out of time, I felt I haven't achieved things I was supposed to, I felt I ought to have found my soul mate etc. as if I was given a deadline in order to reach certain things. Now I feel relieved. The closer I get to 30, the more I realize that it really doesn't matter. What matters is that I have grown and transformed into the new age group I am ready to enter. I am calmer, wiser, more spiritual, I have more patience and now I know what I want to achieve. My 20s were such a complicated quest for what I really wanted. Now all is left is doing what I want, after finally deciding on it.

It is a time for change and I am embracing it.