8th of March - International Women's Day...
"International Women's Day (IWD) was honoured the first time in Austria, Denmark, Germany and Switzerland on 19 March 1911. More than one million women and men attended IWD rallies campaigning for women's rights to work, vote, be trained, to hold public office and end discrimination.
...
IWD is now an official holiday in China, Armenia, Russia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Bulgaria, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Macedonia, Moldova, Mongolia, Tajikistan, Ukraine, Uzbekistan and Vietnam." (Source www.internationalwomensday.com)
In Romania, 8th of March is also the unofficial Mother's day (most of the European Countries have a designated Mother's Day, but we seem to have failed to absorb this particular holiday). No longer a celebration of women's rights and power, 8th of March is nowadays more a celebration of femininity (if we can call it this way) when women expect flowers from their partners and some sort of manifestation of appreciation...
Sadly, this day (along with many other Romanian celebrations) means nothing to me anymore and I would have probably not mentioned it if somehow I didn't stop to observ how many wonderful women I know that have really not much to celebrate at all on 8th of March or any other day.
Needless to mention that I am part of this fabulous group of women, however I feel compelled to think about a few friends who have reached a certain age at the same time with me and who, as well as myself, have failed to fulfill their feminine nature: did not yet establish a family (nor even a partner/husband at least), go to the same job every day constantly wondering what is it that still keeps them going, don't have a home of their own, are beautiful, smart, cultured, funny, cynical and possibly hopeless, wonderful and magnificent as only women know how to be.
It is true that the opression of women having to start a family at a very young age, work day and night to care and provide for the family, live without affection from the little too fond of drinking husband, not looking after themselves, not knowing who they really were are far gone now. And we women of today do appreciate all that the mondern world is now offering... It only seems thought that essentially not much has changed... Today, having a family is harder that flying to the moon, finding a husband more difficult that performing brain surgery, afford a house as a single person (by the way, is it just me or society has not been made for single people?) more complicated that engineering it, having a say in the world as a single voice, more challenging than communicating through telepathy.
I am not going to say I hold any answers, or that I found the secret to successful living because I am comfronted with the same fears everyday myself. All I can say is congratulations to all of you wonderful women out there who put on a dress, and make up and a pair of heels every day and keep on walking, though the road is bumpier than any of us thought at first, when we all thought we had it all figured out, when we all thought we had it all planned and somehow the plan just didn't work out...
Keep on walking!
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
Thursday, 25 February 2010
Funny how each day has its own destiny. Some days you wake up and you know you have a miserable journey ahead and some days you just know it's going to be glorious. It's as if life is being staged following a gigantic script and you're only an actor that must perform. You simply act and react to a cumulus of stimuli and you end up being amazed by how things unwind right in front of you.
Today I had a good day. The type of day when you feel fully awake, aware of your surroundings, like a scout on the look out, ready to react and make things happen. There is some sort of energy that it had been lent to you and you must try and make the most of it. And you do. Today I had one of those days and I wanted to make the most of it to the very end. And I did, and it will be a day that I will always remember as a benchmarking for the days when I will be asleep and will want to be awake as I am now even if it is almost midnight.
It hasn't rained all day until the evening when suddenly water started pouring down the city as if there were too many sins that needed to be washed away. People looked afraid of venturing out in the rain even under umbrellas, but I opened mine and started walking tall. Even in the rain, with my face half obscured by the umbrella, I would look at men passing by and give them an outrageously flirtatious look because I felt I could do it. I passed a guy and a girl each holding a newspaper above their heads and trying to hide next to a building. I could see his face, but the girl was totally buried under the wet pile of today's news and she looked like she wasn't having a good day. I looked at him and smiled, he smiled back. I had a thought right there and then: just because I was having a good day, he probably could find me seductive, but if he only knew how close to despair I was just a few days ago, he wouldn't even see me passing by. Or is it the other way around? Perhaps when we feel good, we spend more time over ourselves, being completely aware of our presence and somehow sending out signals to everyone else around. Or is it that when we are particularly interested in looking around, we notice people noticing us... One will never really know.
Today I had a good day. The type of day when you feel fully awake, aware of your surroundings, like a scout on the look out, ready to react and make things happen. There is some sort of energy that it had been lent to you and you must try and make the most of it. And you do. Today I had one of those days and I wanted to make the most of it to the very end. And I did, and it will be a day that I will always remember as a benchmarking for the days when I will be asleep and will want to be awake as I am now even if it is almost midnight.
It hasn't rained all day until the evening when suddenly water started pouring down the city as if there were too many sins that needed to be washed away. People looked afraid of venturing out in the rain even under umbrellas, but I opened mine and started walking tall. Even in the rain, with my face half obscured by the umbrella, I would look at men passing by and give them an outrageously flirtatious look because I felt I could do it. I passed a guy and a girl each holding a newspaper above their heads and trying to hide next to a building. I could see his face, but the girl was totally buried under the wet pile of today's news and she looked like she wasn't having a good day. I looked at him and smiled, he smiled back. I had a thought right there and then: just because I was having a good day, he probably could find me seductive, but if he only knew how close to despair I was just a few days ago, he wouldn't even see me passing by. Or is it the other way around? Perhaps when we feel good, we spend more time over ourselves, being completely aware of our presence and somehow sending out signals to everyone else around. Or is it that when we are particularly interested in looking around, we notice people noticing us... One will never really know.
Wednesday, 24 February 2010
Nobody's wife
She waited in the cold for the bus for a very long time. Started to wonder if the bus was ever going to come. Came to realize that saving £40 a month by using just buses wasn't such a good deal as she was wasting a lot of time. Pfff! What else would she do with her time though?...
The bus finally came and she went upstairs, found a seat and just blankly stared outside the window. Didn't feel like reading. Not tonight. The pain in the lower back was becoming more and more intrusive and the rain was pouring more and more agressively, furiously licking the bus windows. She tried to avoid thinking about it. Rain was becoming like the song that one hears so many times that it is not audible any longer. The only thing that made her aware of the rain was the fact that she was carrying a wet umbrella and a constant state of depression.
She had thought many times of what could be the cure for depression as sun wasn't something a Londoner could rely on and the only answer was someone in her life. Following some unwritten rules of society she had avoided thinking, expressing or admitting the fact that life was no longer worth living alone. Or maybe it was the society itself which was not designed for single people. Everything was achieavable as a couple, singles had to fight twice as hard. They even counted less in credit scoring calculations. Pfff!
Suddenly she found herself wanting to caress the man seated in front of her. He had dark blond short hair and quite an adorable pair of ears. She couldn't see his face but could easily spot the big bouquet of flowers he was holding with care. She felt as if her hands reached out and started to touch his head gently, and then she would move the tips of her fingers on the margins of his ears and... And if only she could release all that love she was holding inside even if she had to hand it in fully to a total stranger with an unknown face. She remembered how once she had caressed a guy's face and enjoyed that more than the actual sensual kissing they were comitting together. What a waste, she thought. What a waste. One day she'll burst and die... With nobody to give her love to...
The lower back pain moved mischiviously up the spine and settled in the muscles of her shoulders. At least the physical pain was taking all the attention. The silent heartache was there to last and she could get back to it later. For now, she'll have to go home, take a hot bath and try to massage her shoulder muscles (or at least the ones she could reach by herself) with some anti-inflamatory cream. And hope she won't be woken up again in the middle of the night by the loudness of her loneliness. The rain keept on pouring and the night seemed blacker and blacker. People's faces bore no expression. The end of another day.
The bus finally came and she went upstairs, found a seat and just blankly stared outside the window. Didn't feel like reading. Not tonight. The pain in the lower back was becoming more and more intrusive and the rain was pouring more and more agressively, furiously licking the bus windows. She tried to avoid thinking about it. Rain was becoming like the song that one hears so many times that it is not audible any longer. The only thing that made her aware of the rain was the fact that she was carrying a wet umbrella and a constant state of depression.
She had thought many times of what could be the cure for depression as sun wasn't something a Londoner could rely on and the only answer was someone in her life. Following some unwritten rules of society she had avoided thinking, expressing or admitting the fact that life was no longer worth living alone. Or maybe it was the society itself which was not designed for single people. Everything was achieavable as a couple, singles had to fight twice as hard. They even counted less in credit scoring calculations. Pfff!
Suddenly she found herself wanting to caress the man seated in front of her. He had dark blond short hair and quite an adorable pair of ears. She couldn't see his face but could easily spot the big bouquet of flowers he was holding with care. She felt as if her hands reached out and started to touch his head gently, and then she would move the tips of her fingers on the margins of his ears and... And if only she could release all that love she was holding inside even if she had to hand it in fully to a total stranger with an unknown face. She remembered how once she had caressed a guy's face and enjoyed that more than the actual sensual kissing they were comitting together. What a waste, she thought. What a waste. One day she'll burst and die... With nobody to give her love to...
The lower back pain moved mischiviously up the spine and settled in the muscles of her shoulders. At least the physical pain was taking all the attention. The silent heartache was there to last and she could get back to it later. For now, she'll have to go home, take a hot bath and try to massage her shoulder muscles (or at least the ones she could reach by herself) with some anti-inflamatory cream. And hope she won't be woken up again in the middle of the night by the loudness of her loneliness. The rain keept on pouring and the night seemed blacker and blacker. People's faces bore no expression. The end of another day.
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
Time is (not) on my side...
Sambata seara am fost la O2 Arena la mult asteptatul concert Depeche Mode. M-am multumit ca am prins bilete la general release cu 35 de lire, desi locurile nimerite erau cocotate in fundul salii la altitudine datatoare de vertigo. In timpul concertului nu am facut decat sa ma gandesc la ce impact a avut asupra mea sa-i vad in urma cu 4 ani la Wembley si la cat de putin eram acum implicata... Nu erau cu siguranta doar locurile situate mult mai aproape de scena in 2006 (pentru care am platit atunci fara sa clipesc 75 de lire), albumul mai bun sau calitatea sunetului. Era cu mult mai mult. Era febra de a fi la un concert de asemenea valoare emotionala, era infatuarea, erau fanteziile pe care le aveam pe atunci cu Dave Gahan, eram o alta eu care traia momentul cu intensitate. De atunci a trecut mult timp si intre timp eu am devenit altcineva. Recent am fost la un concert The Editors si am constatat ca de-abia asteptam sa se temine deoarece mintea mea era preocupata de alte subiecte. Ma simt in ultima vreme de parca gonesc catre ceva si nu mai sunt capabila sa traiesc momentul fiindca stiu ca momentului ii lipseste foarte tare ceva.
Timpul. Timpul slefuieste si toceste in acelasi timp, timpul e o entitate controversata, datatoare de paradoxuri. Timpul finiseaza gusturile, opiniile, dar limiteaza placerile, imbogateste experienta, dar si cliseizeaza, timpul erodeaza corpul si ascute mintea.
Notiuni care pareau definitive, acum nu mai au aceeasi greutate. Pareri ce pareau de neclintit, pot fi acum contestate. Sperantele nutrite si visruile conturate, devin acum nulitate. Timpul aduce cu sine o liniste care nu vine din intelepciune, ci din constiinta esecului si acceptarea ratarii...
Concertele nu mai sunt o placere. Iesirile nu mai sunt o surpriza. Intalnirile nu mai constituie o emotie. Stilul nu isi mai are rostul. Efortul nu se mai traduce prin satisfactie. In final, in viata nu avem decat scopul primar de a asigura supravietuirea speciei si fara capacitatea de a-l indeplini, nu suntem decat insule plutitoare si perisabile. Timpul. Trece in timp ce scriu.
Timpul. Timpul slefuieste si toceste in acelasi timp, timpul e o entitate controversata, datatoare de paradoxuri. Timpul finiseaza gusturile, opiniile, dar limiteaza placerile, imbogateste experienta, dar si cliseizeaza, timpul erodeaza corpul si ascute mintea.
Notiuni care pareau definitive, acum nu mai au aceeasi greutate. Pareri ce pareau de neclintit, pot fi acum contestate. Sperantele nutrite si visruile conturate, devin acum nulitate. Timpul aduce cu sine o liniste care nu vine din intelepciune, ci din constiinta esecului si acceptarea ratarii...
Concertele nu mai sunt o placere. Iesirile nu mai sunt o surpriza. Intalnirile nu mai constituie o emotie. Stilul nu isi mai are rostul. Efortul nu se mai traduce prin satisfactie. In final, in viata nu avem decat scopul primar de a asigura supravietuirea speciei si fara capacitatea de a-l indeplini, nu suntem decat insule plutitoare si perisabile. Timpul. Trece in timp ce scriu.
Monday, 22 February 2010
A serious case of bad Monday
I open my eyes in the morning and I instinctively know it's going to be a dragging day. I know I will get out of bed, brush my teeth, have a shower, get into the clothes I prepared from last night, apply some make-up and drag myself to work with what it seems to be the last drop of energy I have left in me.
I know I won't do it straight away, but will linger a bit more between the sheets and will eventually erect myself knowing that if I spend one more minute in bed I will be late to work beyond the expected reasonable time. I also know that it is raining outside and it will be one of those London days when rain make good friends with a cold wind and I know that I will be cold no matter which one of my many coats I decide to wear.
I know I will get into work, open my Mac and while it loads all the settings I will go into the tiny kitchen, boil some water and make myself a coffee with the absolute knowledge that coffee will not wake me up. I know my work mates will ask me if I had a nice week-end and today I will actually say that I had a crappy week-end and won't make the slightest effort to be nice. I know I will be cold in the office as it is always so on a Monday but I also know this time I won't care as I can't be bothered anymore to demand/hope/expect.
I know that today is going to be the day when I have given up fighting, opposing. I know that all the positive thinking in the world is not going to change the fact that I am painfully lonely and that the neon lights in the office hurts my eyes. I know that tonight I will come back to a cold room with an empty heart.
I know that the more I fight it, the less it is going to give in so I finally get out of my bed sheets and go to the bathroom while emptying my head of any thoughts and preparing to take in the Monday waiting in front of me. I know.
I know I won't do it straight away, but will linger a bit more between the sheets and will eventually erect myself knowing that if I spend one more minute in bed I will be late to work beyond the expected reasonable time. I also know that it is raining outside and it will be one of those London days when rain make good friends with a cold wind and I know that I will be cold no matter which one of my many coats I decide to wear.
I know I will get into work, open my Mac and while it loads all the settings I will go into the tiny kitchen, boil some water and make myself a coffee with the absolute knowledge that coffee will not wake me up. I know my work mates will ask me if I had a nice week-end and today I will actually say that I had a crappy week-end and won't make the slightest effort to be nice. I know I will be cold in the office as it is always so on a Monday but I also know this time I won't care as I can't be bothered anymore to demand/hope/expect.
I know that today is going to be the day when I have given up fighting, opposing. I know that all the positive thinking in the world is not going to change the fact that I am painfully lonely and that the neon lights in the office hurts my eyes. I know that tonight I will come back to a cold room with an empty heart.
I know that the more I fight it, the less it is going to give in so I finally get out of my bed sheets and go to the bathroom while emptying my head of any thoughts and preparing to take in the Monday waiting in front of me. I know.
Monday, 15 February 2010
Post-Valentines
Ca un facut, azi am fost sunata de un tip pe care l-am cunoscut acum vreo 4 luni la ambasada republicii Zimbabwe (din toate locurile din Londra acesta este probabil cel mai random loc in care m-am trezit intr-o seara de vineri) si in timp ce incercam sa imi amintesc cu cine vorbesc, am primit un mesaj de la un altul care se plangea ca l-am uitat.
De parca odata trecuta inutila zi de Valentine's, toti s-au trezit la viata si au inceput sa caute prin agende. Mi se pare intr-un final un fenomen cat se poate de simplu: iarna aduce cu sine hibernarea si pur si simplu apropiata sosire a primaverii pare ca trezeste spiritele la viata. Pana si eu ma simt lipsita de dorinta de a initia vreo intalnire si nu pot sa exclud vremea rece din motivele care ma fac sa am o atitudine refractara la a cunoaste pe cineva nou.
Ma frustreaza totusi ca nu am nici un control asupra anotimpului friguros. As vrea sa fie totul atipic, sa nu existe amorteala asta generalizata pe care iarna o instaureaza asupra oamenilor fara drept de apel, sa facem exact ce ne trece prin cap indiferent ca afara ninge sa soarele straluceste pe cer. Dar se pare ca suntem tributari unui soi de ciclu natural si suntem la urma urmei posesorii unor corpuri care raspund conditiilor de mediu.
Citeam in nu stiu ce revista sau pe nu stiu ce website ca perioada cea mai propice de a cunoaste pe cineva este sfarsitul lunii februarie iar explicatia o constituie faptul ca multi si-au petrecut Valentine's Day singuri si au decis ca e cazul sa puna capat singuratatii. Vom trai si vom vedea si oricat nu-mi place sa cred in statistici si fenomene ciclice, se pare ca ele chiar influenteaza vietile fiecaruia dintre noi...
De parca odata trecuta inutila zi de Valentine's, toti s-au trezit la viata si au inceput sa caute prin agende. Mi se pare intr-un final un fenomen cat se poate de simplu: iarna aduce cu sine hibernarea si pur si simplu apropiata sosire a primaverii pare ca trezeste spiritele la viata. Pana si eu ma simt lipsita de dorinta de a initia vreo intalnire si nu pot sa exclud vremea rece din motivele care ma fac sa am o atitudine refractara la a cunoaste pe cineva nou.
Ma frustreaza totusi ca nu am nici un control asupra anotimpului friguros. As vrea sa fie totul atipic, sa nu existe amorteala asta generalizata pe care iarna o instaureaza asupra oamenilor fara drept de apel, sa facem exact ce ne trece prin cap indiferent ca afara ninge sa soarele straluceste pe cer. Dar se pare ca suntem tributari unui soi de ciclu natural si suntem la urma urmei posesorii unor corpuri care raspund conditiilor de mediu.
Citeam in nu stiu ce revista sau pe nu stiu ce website ca perioada cea mai propice de a cunoaste pe cineva este sfarsitul lunii februarie iar explicatia o constituie faptul ca multi si-au petrecut Valentine's Day singuri si au decis ca e cazul sa puna capat singuratatii. Vom trai si vom vedea si oricat nu-mi place sa cred in statistici si fenomene ciclice, se pare ca ele chiar influenteaza vietile fiecaruia dintre noi...
Sunday, 14 February 2010
Valentine's Day again
Valentine's Day was meant to make sigle people feel miserable and people in a relationship pressured... I hate Valentine's day, I hate the fluffy bit of it and I hate all the anti-Valetine parties, it is all equally designed to denigrate love and put more pressure on people to find it and/or keep it.
It'a yet another year when I am finding myself in no relationship whatsoever and with a feeling that I have lost the battle already. If in 30 years I haven't found anyone, I absolutely doubt it will ever happen. I am fully aware of my qualities, I know I am an appealing girl, but maybe I am one of those girls who picked a losing ticket. I absolutely wonder how people find one another... I wonder how they stay together. I wonder how love happens. I wonder why I am wondering about all these on another Valentine's Day in London...
I really didn't care about it. I went out for lunch with my friend K., went for a walk around Angel and then had a lovely coffee. But I keep on asking myself what is the matter with the world as, since I have recently established that it is not me, it's them, I have't yet convinced love to come my way...
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
Settling for Mr. Right Now...
Apparently after 30 women produce only 12% of conceiving eggs. Apparently a woman wrote a book called "Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough". Her name is Lori Gottlieb. Apparently we all want the same thing, we are all as scared as anyone else and as much as I do not want to agree with the idea of stopping to look for the One just because he is a myth who has never been scietifically proved, I must say she had me thinking.
I will probably marry Mr. Good Enough in a somewhat near future because I feel I want a child to validate my life and I want my child to have a father. I will also do that because there is as much loneliness as you can swallow and as much "fun" as you can have. I will probably wait for a miracle to happen so I won't have to settle for Mr. Good Enough, but I doubt that after waiting for 30 years, a couple of more years will make any difference.
I have met men that I liked but they didn't like me, I have met men that liked me but they were not even close to Good Enough (or they haven't made the effort to come close at least) and so on. All my life has been a quest for a reasonable person (I have never had impossible standards - never asked from a man something I can't offer myself!) and still all I got in return was "Not Even Close", frustration and a loveless life! Of course I am going to keep looking, but all I am scared of is that I will end up lowering my standards so much in the light of the harsh reality that Mr. Right hasn't been born yet or is already dead, that I will end up settling for Mr. Wrong!...
I will probably marry Mr. Good Enough in a somewhat near future because I feel I want a child to validate my life and I want my child to have a father. I will also do that because there is as much loneliness as you can swallow and as much "fun" as you can have. I will probably wait for a miracle to happen so I won't have to settle for Mr. Good Enough, but I doubt that after waiting for 30 years, a couple of more years will make any difference.
I have met men that I liked but they didn't like me, I have met men that liked me but they were not even close to Good Enough (or they haven't made the effort to come close at least) and so on. All my life has been a quest for a reasonable person (I have never had impossible standards - never asked from a man something I can't offer myself!) and still all I got in return was "Not Even Close", frustration and a loveless life! Of course I am going to keep looking, but all I am scared of is that I will end up lowering my standards so much in the light of the harsh reality that Mr. Right hasn't been born yet or is already dead, that I will end up settling for Mr. Wrong!...
Sunday, 31 January 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, 23 January 2010
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...
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...
Friday, 22 January 2010
"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!
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!
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
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...
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...
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
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!"...
"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!"...
Sunday, 4 October 2009
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!
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!
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