The singleton syndrome

I didn't even realize it, but I think I may have crossed the line between being single and longing for a relationship and being single and feeling really comfortable about it.

I only just came to the conclusion that all the ideas I have been toying with about me coming of age and looking for the Nice Guy were just self-convincing statements, when, in reality, I have made such an incredible good job at really enjoying being single that I have reasons to believe that I may have become a relationship phobic.

While dumbfound by the realization that I may actually have a problem, I went on the ever reliable Google and wandered around in search of answers. I cam across this title: "The Successfully Single Syndrome" by Dr. Nancy Kenyon and thought it could be a good idea to read some of this literature that may find me some answers. It seems that the book is dealing with why people are still single and giving advice on how to find the right partner, but I am not sure many people have bothered to see that while trying hard to convince ourselves we don't need somebody else in our lives to make us happy, us single people have programmed our minds that we are probably happier alone than trapped inside a relationship that we can't seem to be able to embrace the perspective of a one...

Scared by the things I have just discovered, I have also noticed that no matter how much I rationalize it, I do, without a shred of a doubt, have a falling in love pattern and yes, it is the people that don't want me that make me want them. How pathetic. In a day and age when I thought I had it all sorted out, turns out that if I a guy is too much into me, I tend to run away as if I was bitten by a poisonous cobra. I cannot help but wonder what is it that I must do, to let go of this bad habit and simply open my heart fully to a person that surrounds me with attention and perhaps "loves me just the way I am". I am fighting battles with my own feelings and instincts and I do pray to God that I win. Otherwise, I'll be chasing dead horses all my life while wondering what am I doing wrong. What am I doing wrong is being set on some silly self imposed criteria and not being able to open my eyes and be more flexible about things. I wonder if I may still stand a chance to be cured of the Single Syndrome or is the kind that sticks with you forever and ever?...

Nobody is supposed to live alone and yet again, we have beaten Mother Nature to the polls. Take that Nature, who said we can't live single happily ever after?... Who says we can't be walking the earth in search for some sense and purpose? I mean, what else if left after I come back from climbing mountains like a goat? Just a big black emptiness... I guess.

New Year - so much to do, so little time!

This would be my first post in 2011. Not because I have nothing to say, but because there is so much happening!

Christmas seems so far away already, the New Year party, being home, it's already so last year. It's been great, but as always, happy to be back home in London.

And this year I have more reasons to be excited: I have started the year with a brand new job in a great ad agency and already feeling better about the work aspect of my life. But more than anything is the fast aproaching trek to Ethiopia.

It's less than a month away and I am running around trying to sort out insurances, visas, vaccinations and above all - training sessions! I obviously have spent Christmas training pork delicacies down my throat so the need of getting in shape is stronger than ever. My motivation is high, the only thing I am short of is time. Trying to walk 2-3 hours a week-end, going to gym classes after work, getting crash-training at work as well and preparing for the fundraising party - it seems that the luxury of sleeping is no longer mine! No wonder I am knackered all the time.

But hey, the January blues are certainly not something I should be worried about! I am full of energy and high on excitement. So far, I had no time to breathe and think but got my little notebook ready and will make sure I write everything down when I'm there. I am expecting this to be one of the best experiences of my life!

A really big thank you to all the people that have donated towards my charity trekking and have helped me reach 25% of my target! I won't let you down.

If you wish to donate you can do it by clicking on my JustGiving page.

Make Christmas everyday

Every year from ever since I can remember, I have associated Christmas with a poignant sadness.

Not only that I sometimes unwillingly reminisce about the cold winters back in the communist times when our main source of heating in the flat was an old electric heater which proved to be pointless when the electricity was cut off, but I also can't stop thinking about the many years I have spent Christmas away from my family until I felt it didn't belong to me anymore.

When I was a child, Christmas was a joyful celebration and like millions of children around the world I too waited for Santa Claus to bring me presents.

But he only came at kindergarten and somehow he only brought me things I didn't want. I remember once Mum asked me what did I want for Santa to bring me and I was embarrassed to tell her I wanted a toy so I said I wanted a sweater, though secretly hoping for a doll. And guess what? Santa did bring me a sweater. I was painfully disappointed. I couldn't believe Santa listened to my lie and not to what my heart wanted.

Anyway, years later and I felt the sadness on many Christmases spent away from home, especially last year when my flight got cancelled and had to spend another Christmas in an empty London with no jingle bells.

But you know what? This year I am happy either way! Because Christmas is just another day and it really should be Christmas every day!

What really is the point and spirit of Christmas? It's not about the millions of things that people rush to buy and wrap them up to put under the tree and it's not about the new dress at the Christmas party. It's about the joy and gratitude and it's about helping!

I feel blessed that, probably for the first time ever, I put no pressure on Christmas day and truly believe that the legacy of it lives in my heart every single day of the year. And this has been proven to me by so many people that have supported and encouraged me in my charity trekking fundraising and the more you receive, the more you want to give. So I say, give love everyday and make everyday a Christmas day!


I have come across a young Romanian girl that has a brain tumour and needs help and decided to write about it on my blog. They are presently working on arranging a PayPal account so people (including myself) can donate online, but in the meantime, if you live in Romania and would like to help someone who might not be able to make everyday a Christmas day without help, you can find more details on this blog "Ajutati-o pe Ana" (Help Ana).

They joys of fundraising

So, after the initial excitement of “Oh, my God, I am actually doing this!” I reached the inevitable “Oh, my God, how am I going to do this?...” It looks like raising money it’s far more stressful and complicated than I ever anticipated.
Firstly, I started pretty late... It wasn’t that I was half hearted about climbing mountains, but fundraising the whole amount seemed something far more complicated. But as I always do (and believe me, it’s brought me more troubles than benefits) I just decided to go for it, either way.
Yeah, it’s easy to say, I’ll do it next year, I’ll do it when the sun will shine, when I’ll have more money so I can practically pay for it myself entirely without going through the hassle of raising money etc etc. But they are all just excuses for not doing things and as cliché as this sounds, life really is short! And, since a recent epiphany, I have decided never to leave things for later. As troublesome as this may be!
So here I am struggling. I managed to schedule a fund raising fancy dress party on 22nd of January at my flat (thanks to a few very dedicated friends) and currently trying to negotiate some deals with the local pubs for a pub quiz night or darts championship. I offered to sing karaoke all night in return for donations but they kindly asked me not to do so. They must have heard me singing before... Anyway, slowly slowly and mostly through begging or emotionally blackmailing all my friends for sponsorship, I have started to build up the necessary amount. In fact, I have reached 11% of my target, which is not too bad considering how late I have started my fundraising campaign. However, my place has been booked and half of the money (£1500) need to reach the charity by first week of January. Hmmm.... Complicated stuff, huh?...
For those of you wanting to know about how my training is going, I have disturbing news. I have been stressing so much about gathering funds, that I have actually eaten a lot of the chocolate I brought in to work to try and sweeten people up towards my case, I have been drinking a lot at the Xmas party trying to forget all about not reaching my target and when finally I took a strong direction towards they gym, I ended up with painful muscular cramps following an intense session of body pump. So apart of the regular jogging (which I must admit, is not great on ice), I am not doing a lot. Truth be told, I did a bit of surfing a couple of weeks ago which did improve my stamina but left me with a cold that doesn’t want to go away...
Anyway, just thought I’d keep you all up to date with how everything is going. In case I do get stranded trying to go home for Xmas, I promise I’ll do some working out with the shovel at the front door and maybe skip the Xmas turkey in favour or some delicious energy bars.
So, if you have not been impressed by the suffering people in Africa, I am sure that after reading this, you can’t help but wipe that tear off the corner of your eye.

Merry Christmas!!

Iulia xxx

PS. Yes, you can donate, by clicking here.

Merry Christmas from Transaid and the people they have helped in Africa (click below)

Merry Xmas!

The rastafari movement started in Ethiopia...

Seize the day

I can't think of a better way to start this but with a reference to Goethe's masterpiece "Faust". I have been planning to write an article about my trip to Africa next year as part of a charity trekking and kept thinking of a way to express my feelings the right way. While trying hard to explain why is this so important to me, I remembered Goethe's "Faust".

Faust, a man of great wisdom and virtue, made a pact with the Devil, who promised him unlimited access to all the pleasures and all the knowledge in the world. But the Devil, as a good advocate himself, has written a clause, which stated that if at any point Faust would be happy and would like to seize the moment, he would die the next instant. As much as he enjoyed worldly pleasures and had access to everything he could possibly want, Faust didn't feel the need to want to seize the moment, until he became involved in helping others. The satisfaction he received from helping, made him, without even realizing, intensely happy.

That's because Faust was probably experiencing what anthopologists and psychologists call the "warm glow" of giving.

I wanted to lay my motives bare in front of everyone and say that yes, perhaps I too, long for the "warm glow" of giving. And that perhaps it comes a time in life when nothing seems valuable anymore, when you stopp running for succes, money, career and everything that we were trained to pursue and wonder whether there isn't something else out that will make life worthwhile.

"Ah! Now I’ve done Philosophy,

I’ve finished Law and Medicine,

And sadly even Theology:

Taken fierce pains, from end to end.

Now here I am, a fool for sure!

No wiser than I was before:

Master, Doctor’s what they call me,

And I’ve been ten years, already,

Crosswise, arcing, to and fro,

Leading my students by the nose,

And see that we can know - nothing!" (Faust, Act 1)



What do we know in fact? That somewhere in the world people live different lives as if Earth was divided in different little planets. That we know close to nothing about the other little planets, except that they need our help. We also know that abundance doesn't bring happiness and it doesn't bring the satisfaction a person longs for. But what we do know is that we can take this abundance and put it to good use - maybe plant a few seeds of hope on a poor little foreign planet. While sacrificing for it. The "warm glow" will come together with the endorfines released from climbing the high Simien mountains and maybe then, on a high peak, surrounded by greatness and silence, with the wind telling magical tales of ancient civilisations and universal truths, perhaps then, the Faust in me will want to absolutely seize the moment.


If you would like to sponsor me in my trekking, please donate on my Just Giving page.
If you would like any information about the trekking, the charity or the cause, just drop me a line.

My way

In a world that keeps pushing dreams our way, it seems that living for what one really wants has become one of the biggest challenges one could encounter.
In a world that becomes more and more diverse and complex, one finds himself wondering how come that all that he has achieved up to date doesn't really hold any real value.
In a world that speeds frantically and irrationally, one has forgotten how to live.

If it was only my case, I would stand accused and say nothing, as I have always been one of those people that has pointed things out and has always complained about the wrong things in life. If I were the only one that didn't find my place and cried in the middle of the night because waking up and going to work just doesn't have any logic, I would stand accused. If I were the only one who finds herself suddenly woken up from the common dream and wondering what was life suppose to be all about, I would say no word.

But I am not the only one and the same way I stare at the wall and ask myself over and over again what is it that I am suppose to be doing with my life in order to feel the happines and satisfaction with my existence, the same way, I am sure, there are hundreds, thousands and possibly even millions of people asking themselves the same question.

In a world that is so big and yet so small, young Londoners find themselves wondering what will it take to make the life worth living... Surely it can't be the season sales, or the all inclusive holidays, or the drinking with mates, or the comfort eating, or the playing sports, or the pulling in bars, or... Surely there must be something else. That something that we were born to do and is probably just under our noses without our noticing...

One of my very good friends pointed it out for me the other day that I should stop taking whatever comes my way and go for what I really want. I stopped for a second to think about it and I realized that I have always(ALWAYS!!!) just taken opportunities that came my way. I have never gone for a job because I wanted that job badly and I would have polished someone's shoes for a year just to get it. I have just accepted offers that happened to seem reasonable at the time, never taking into account what would that offer mean to me in the long run. I just did it and moved on, hoping that the future will write itself somehow. As if I was afraid to make choices for myself, I have allowed fate to decide for me. I suppose this type of attitude is valid for everything else in my life: I have never chosen. I have simply accepted. Hence my lifelong dissatisfaction with my life.
I think the only choices I have made are my friends and my books. These are the two aspects in my life I feel strongly about and I feel entitled to accept or reject. Anything else, until now, didn't mean much...

I have worked hard with myself to not only give myself unconditional love, but change the way I look at life in order to reflect this self love. I believe that by making my own choices, I show myself love and respect and portray that person that I have always wanted to be.

I still don't know what choices will I have to make and what compromises in order to achieve my goals, but at least now I am sure that if I want to live a meaningful life, I will have to do things my way!

Trusting myself

I am sure my friends want the best for me. I am also sure that sometimes they don't know what to tell me anymore after hearing my complaints over and over again and end up telling me off. Or telling me something that I don't want to hear simply because it makes sense to them.
I suppose I do the same for my friends. At first I am sympathetic and encouraging and after a period of time when things fail to improve, I suggest to them to seek specialized help. I suppose we can't blame each other because no friend in the world holds anybody else's answers. The only answers are within us and all we have to do is stop and feel.
Feelings are the only reality and the only indicator of what a person is going through. Learning to listen to those feelings is probably a person's best chance for survival. Listen to yourself and nurture your needs.
A lot of the things that I have been through recently I had to deal with myself. Don't get me wrong, I did pour my heart out in front of my closest friends, but in the end I had to deal with all my issues myself. And it works. Learning how to listen to myself is probably the best thing I have ever done. After a while, you become a doctor in your own feelings and recognize signals almost without fail. I have learned that no matter how well intentioned is a friend that tells me "I really liked that guy you were seeing two months ago, what was wrong with him? I think you might be becoming too demanding", or "I think you should get back with your ex", or "Just find yourself a nice guy", none really knows better what's best for me than myself.
I can only be with the person that brings the best in me and awakens the playful side of myself and allows me to live life with open arms. Anyone else, will just force me to live with a side of myself that is miserable and aggressive, reproachful and nasty, cold and bitter. And this is why, no matter how great someone was, sometimes their presence and solicitude provokes the worst in me. The more they would try to please me, the more I would reject them. While others, perhaps less than an obvious choice, would make me feel happy and light, funny and attractive.

Therefore, my friends, I think I have answered my own question: I have only myself to trust to make the right choices in life. But thanks anyway...

Hypochondria - the new "mal du siecle"?...

"Hypochondria is a mental preoccupation with real or suppositional physical or mental disorders, a discrepancy between the degree of preoccupation and the grounds for it so that the former is far in excess of what is justified, and an effective condition best characterized as interest with conviction and consequent concern, and with indifference to the opinion of the environment, including unresponsiveness to persuasion." (Retterstol, 2007)

Hypochondria is not new, it hasn't been invented yesterday, but goes back as Hypocrates. However, after going through a terrible episode myself, I have reasons to believe that it might just be the "plague" of the 21st century.

After being asked and get my lumps checked, I started convincing myself that, although most lumps are harmless, I was the one who had the really dangerous type. I went as far as having panic attacks, nightmares and even thinking that if this wasn't the case, then I probably had some other horrible and unimaginable disease. I went so far as to get myself checked for many other diseases (which in itself it's a good thing, especially as I came out clear) and the more I got reassurance on some, I wanted to check other possibilities. But somehow this had to stop, as feeling the way I was feeling contributed to a rapidly declining state of mind, which was affecting my day to day life. And if my biggest fear was to lose my life, well, I wasn't quite living it, was I?...

After doing a quick search on the disease and finding out how closely it related to depression and schizophrenia, I still didn't understand the extent to which this apparently harmless and mockable condition could affect someone's life until I found out that so many of my friends had been through similar episodes. Close friends came up to me and confessed similar phobias, whether it was fear of heart attack, cancer or bubonic plague.

I don't base my statement on any evidence(I am sure I can find one, if I must) so you'll have to trust me on this one, but it seems that the increased awareness of certain types of diseases makes them the top of the hypochondriac's shopping list. I also tend to believe that the mounting level of information and statistics regarding deaths and cases of terminally illnesses, influences people nowadays to believe that one day it is going to happen to them...

Why do we get like that? I mean, I am sure nobody wants to go through hell and back thinking about illness and death, so there must be something more subtle at work. Based on my own experience, I believe that a certain level of stress and feeling of unachievement can easily trigger it. When happy, we don't really listen to our bodies, but when we feel low, everything surfaces. Our body reacts to the instructions of our mind.

Someone mentioned to me the other day that it might be related to the Quarter Life Crisis (I couldn't have said it better myself: Read about Quarter Life Crisis) which more and more people go through nowadays. Other will argue that we live in blessed times when opportunities are higher than ever and it's not fair for the people of the 21st Century to go through Quarter Life Crisises when they have so much more than their predecessors, including a higher life expectancy! I would probably answer to those people that then again we are brought into this world with higher expectations and not meeting them (which is probably the case of most people) makes us feel like we are failures and gets us steps closer to depression and related states of mind. Perhaps that's why we are so afraid of disease and death. Because we haven't fulfilled our mission, haven't reached our goals and we are terrified that we will leave this world without having lived up to the standards.

Yes, hypochondria is an expression of all that and not something we should joke about. I noticed that being part of a small community of hypochondriacs did help and I urge anyone who has ever felt that kind of desperation to give a helping had to someone in distress. An article published in the Guardian in 2007 ("How do you cure Hypochondria?") talks about methods of dealing with the irrational fear of illness and thankfully, there is hope. Apparently, receiving reassurance from your doctor doesn't remove the fear. The sufferer is trapped in his/her own mind and cannot escape without help. I hope this can help...

I still haven't received my diagnosys, but I am hoping that hypochondria is not one of them...

I stopped smoking. A habit that I mastered for over twelve years and yet it's as if it never happened. I don't crave. I don't think about it. I have just erased it from my daily life.

Of course it took a great scare to force this to happen, but I am grateful it did.

It's one of those things you keep procrastinating: I'll give up smoking one day, but just not yet, I'll have children one day but not right now, I'll sleep when I am dead etc.


I went to the gynecologist the other day to find out whether it's just my breasts or perhaps there is something really wrong with my uterus as well.

She wanted to know if I was pregnant. I laughed. She also asked if I was trying for children. I laughed again. I guess that she sees more pregnant women that women in their thirties with no real gynecological issue, but the hypochondria in their head. She did ask to see if I wasn't pregnant and I found myself looking at the sample of urine wondering what if I was pregnant... I also noticed a slight disappointment when the confirmation came. No, I wasn't pregnant...

I still don't have the official confirmation of what's wrong with me, but it seems that my lumps are of hormonal origin and the result of me not having had children yet. I guess that there is something really wrong with the world today... Socially, it is becoming more and more of a normality to see single childless women in their 30's and even 40's, however biologically, we are being told off...

Yes, I do find myself looking at children on the street and yes, maybe I did give up smoking thinking about the child I don't have yet...Apparently I have a nice womb...

Carpe Diem

Fear... Fear is the worst enemy of humanity. Of my humanity...

Fear eats me alive and makes me sick to the point of throwing up... I contemplate death and the idea of my non-being scares me to madness. As a human being, I realize how irrational I can be.

A couple of days ago, I decided to go and get the doctor to check some strange pain I felt in my breasts for a couple of weeks. I was sure he would just tell me there was nothing to worry about and just send me home with some paracetamol. He looked at me blankly and said I had lumps on both sides and that I should get them checked. Although that was probably the most reasonable thing to say in the world, I felt as if he was signing my death sentence... I went out of the clinic's door and couldn't shake off the idea I was going to die...I went to work and everything felt surreal. I wasn't there... It was Friday and all I thought about was how was I going to live until I get checked... To try and calm myself down I went to the yoga class at my gym but everything went from bad to worse.

I went to the gym, took off my clothes and started to fold them nicely as in a very important ritual. I suddenly had an image about my uncle's pijamas when he was in the hospital, before he died and I remember thinking that soon the pijama will lie untouched as he will no longer be around... A fear overtook me and I started to cry in the middle of the changing room. I looked at my clothes and a sinister idea took shape. I tried to ignore it and went into the studio. As I was performing down facing dogs and warrior ones, I looked at my body and felt an incredible love for it. I contemplated my hands moving in the air as if they weren't mine and wanted to squeeze them tight, kiss them and hold on to them for as long as possible, as if I had to say good bye to them...

On my way home, I saw a woman with a baby in a buggie. I felt I ran out of air and dashed out of the tube hyperventilating and crying at the same time. I felt I was going to die right then and there... I cried thinking that I was going to die and I was going to die alone... It wasn't until later on that night when I managed to recover a bit of my rationality.

I was told that I was probably still dealing with the sudden loss of my uncle. I remember that I had bought some parsley while he was in the hospital and kept it in water. When he died, the parsely was still in the glass of water. I remember thinking that even the parsley lived longer than him...

I guess I am dealing with a very strong irrational fear. I strongly love life and I would do anything to hold on to it. But then again, who wouldn't?... We would all give anything to live, we would all realize we would have wished to live our lives better, more intensley, more importantly... Carpe Diem has become almost a cliche and we all live away telling each other over a glass of wine "Life is short!" but how many of us really believe it? We all bloody think we're going to live forever...

How do I deal with my fear? I do what I can... I pray... I go out and see my friends... I go to the Opera. I go climbing and I make sure I reach the top even though I am scared of heights. I try and be brave and tell myself I will be all right against all my irrational instincts that almost make me faint of worry... I tell myself that if I am given the chance to life, I will make sure I will waste no time and love every minute of it.

I have never really liked my breasts. Too big, to heavy, not perky enough. But you know what, I love them more than anything right now and I pray for them. I promise to never think a bad thought about them ever again!

Oh, and one more thing: fear made me stop smoking!! So maybe there is something good out of this after all...

Being single

I have been single almost all my life. With the exception of a 4 years long relationship, which ended almost 3 years ago. But that's probably the exception that proves the rule, as they say.

In high school, I never had a boyfriend. I told myself I was a bit of a misfit and preferred to spend my week-ends reading literature than going out to the local disco (which, truth be told, was a real dump). I didn't lose my virginity in high school, which is probably a good thing. Not that it changed much - I was a bit of a naive late bloomer by the time I was in my twenties. Perhaps it would have been better if I started the dating game earlier. I would have been more equipped and probably looking back I would have been easier on myself, cutting myself some slack on the account of having been really young and immature.

But in reality things went a bit in a different way. I found myself in my twenties, knowing next to nothing when it came to boys. All I knew about them was that I liked them. Thank God, I was no lesbian! Everything else, was really wrong! I couldn't see bad news coming my way, even if they had it tattooed on their forehead. I was so blissfully unaware of the fact that things didn't happen like in fairy tales and that there were dating rules to follow and a commonly agreed coding system, that I truly believed that if a guy liked me, then he probably had the noblest intentions. And I suffered! I suffered profusely every time I got hurt. And I kept asking myself what was going wrong, without the faintest clue...I had such a bad impression of myself that I was terribly grateful to anyone that found me attractive. I didn't recognized my own power, even if it hit me in the face with a hammer.

So I remained single for most of my early twenties, until somebody decided I was girlfriend material. I didn't quite have a say in that, I just accepted it. For some reason, I used to think that things should just happen to me and I should just take them. Not for one second, did it crossed my mind that I could have a say in my love life.

After a few years, I realized that I wasn't quite happy and decided to take a risk and be single again. After all, I was in my late twenties and I should have known better by then. A couple of years later and I found myself making the same mistakes I used to make when I barely knew how to kiss. So it turned out that many years later, I was still as disabled as I was in my teens. Staggered by a string of disappointments, I kept crying myself to sleep and becoming less and less hopeful. I thought I would end up alone...

Strangely enough, I have spent such a long time being single, without learning how to be single and enjoy it. Having a conversation and a mouthful of chocolate with one of my closest friends the other day, I had a revelation. Actually two: 1) that too much chocolate can make you sick and 2) that I have only really been single for a year. Yes, that's right. He suggested that I have been single for two (not too mention all the other years before that) and that only in the last year I started to want to have a relationship (so beacause I wasn't supposedly looking for a relationship before, it doesn't count as being single!?), when in reality, ever since I have known myself, I wanted to be with someone. It was the idea of being in a relationship (some kind of childhood trauma, I am sure) that excited me, rather than being with someone because of who that someone was... Does it make sense? I was chasing a dream, a chimera, a notion. I wanted it so badly and at the same time, I wanted it to come my way, nice and easy. And all this time, I have forced myself to get something that was virtually impossible.

In fact, for about a year now, I have really started being single. I have given myself time, thought, care, I spent time with myself, I thought a lot, I got to know myself, I did things I enjoyed, I spent time with friends that are dear to me, I have improved the quality of my time, prioritized, went up in my career, travelled, exercised, ate goo food, went to see good movies, laughed a lot, flirted, enjoyed. Anything that came my way. And only since then, I realized I was ready to share all that with a special someone. And I have also realized that I am in no hurry. I want to find that person that will take me as a whole and live life with me, without pressure, with fun and excitement and peace. And I am giving myself time. Time to be single.

I'll take the Nice Guy!

It's only when really important things happen in your life - like re-watching an old episode from Grey's Anatomy - when you realize how much you've changed.

I was deeply involved with watching an episode when Meredith has to choose between McDreamy who broke her heart and Finn, the vet that made her feel special, and she ends up choosing McDreamy. "Why, Oh, Why", I cry nearly choking on my thai curry. "Choose the Nice Guy!", I shout, still fully aware that not only I am watching a TV show (not real! d'oh), but I am watching an old episode and everything has already happened. I also remember that the first time I saw this particular episode, I was happy she chose Dr. McDreamy Shepherd. Because at the time, I believed in passionate love and butterflies in your tummy and some other pain inducing self-delusional crap.

And for those of you who also know a thing or two about Sex and The City, the same happened when Carrie had to choose between Aidan and Big. I cheered for Big all the way in the past, but now if I had to give Carrie a personal, honest and life changing advice, I'd say: "Go for the Nice Guy! Go for the guy that keeps you warm at night and makes you feel like you are the most important woman in the world and hurting you for whatever reason is absolutely inconceivable..."

But out of the TV drama and back to reality. Truth be told, it's probably the first time when I notice this shift in my attitude. I used to find nice guys boring and unsatisfactory. Because I used to dream about totally unrealistic and romantic stuff like: stargazing with my lover and talking about the meaning of life, reading poetry to each other naked, riding into the sunset on a motorbike, falling sleep under the stars, making love on the beach and all sorts of other semi-cliches, half nonsense projections. None of this idiotic daydreams ever happened, however plenty of unmet expectations and disappointment have come my way. And only because I was looking for the Bad Guy, the guy that was making my inside flutter and made me feel really special... for a day or two.

It's been a while though (thank God) since this type of characters have made an impression on me. I am pretty knowledgeable these days (nothing can beat experience, ey!) to be able to avoid them as much as I can. And as much as I am avoiding the "Look at me, I am so cool" type of character, I get more and more drawn towards the guy in the corner, that says nothing but means a lot!

And yes, you do get sometimes a combination of the two (or maybe a fake Nice Guy?...) and, yes, you do make a mistake thinking he was for real, because dating the Nice Guy isn't supposed to make you feel insecure and bad about yourself... And yes, there is nothing wrong with that since once again you are convinced that only the Nice Guy is the real thing... Because the Nice Guy will only take out the best in you and love you (as Darcy nicely puts it in front of Bridget - yes, another film!) just the way you are...

Breathe away

I light another cigarette and breathe the smoke deep into my lungs. I know it's not good for me. I also know I badly want it. As if I try to punish myself for something. Or as if I am trying to reproduce a cliche, maybe a scene from a movie. It all feels wrong but, hey, there are so many wrongs in my life that a lousy cigarette won't make a difference.

Guilt creeps in instantly because I remember the pleasure of breathing. I remember how I tried to concentrate on my breathing the night before and joy filled me together with the air coming in and out of my lungs. And then a sense of peace overcame me and for a few minutes I forgot my silly worries. I remembered that I was alive and that a whole future was still laid in front of me, unwritten and inviting. I remembered that no matter what, I am part of a plan that will take shape with or without me worrying about it...

However, now I am drinking a Mojito and really craving that cigarette. While I am puffing away, all the wondering came back and became stronger and stronger. What if, what if...

I throw the cigarette butt away, wanting to do the same with these stupid thoughts. I start wondering what colour my lungs would be by now... Then I think about "what if" again. Then I decide to think about something really trivial to take my mind off things and realize it isn't working.

I start breathing consciously and my lungs, my heart and myself really become one... I really wish I took more care of this precious body I was given. It really isn't mine to trash... I tell myself, yet again, that I won't be touching any more cigarettes from tomorrow!