Monthly Archives: June 2014

The Hammock Theory

 As I thought so, no news about him the boy from the previous post. I tried call the hospital but they won’t give me any information, so I hope he is still fighting for his life and I wish him well, wherever he is.

I was sure this would happen. This is it, life goes on… I did what I know best… write about… but my hands are tight… I can’t be Wonder Woman and save the world.

The things is I had a remark from someone that told me that my post can’t be viewed as “no to racism” because of my statements related to the differences between roumanian and rroms. As I replied, I think my post is very well entitled, because even though sometimes we are bothered by some some people, we can’t go doing our law by ourselves. I hate my neibgbors for slamming their doors. That doesn’t I go on punching them.

Life goes on as usual, time waits for nobody, so, my stories go on also, and today I was thinking about friendship.

Since I came to France, I haven’t managed to make myself new friends. Sometimes, you make acquaintances, you go out for a drink with a classmate or a colleague, but in the end, you come back home, and if you are constipated and after long hours of trying to get the demon out, your ass hurts you as hell because of that really spicy sauce you ate, you can’t call your classmate to tell him that.

You can’ become that intimate with someone you know for couple of months or a year or so. Friendship need time to grow. Here’s my Hammock Theory.

You have planted a tree, it’s a baby tree… Wood tree is still tender. He is young. He has no strength yet. You put another baby tree beside him. They are both young and fragile. And they share the sun together, they share the rain and the Earth and they live side by side, taking advantage of all the beautiful things the gardens has to offer them. Yes, they spend a lot of time with each other, they are there every day, but what can they do together? Can they share a little more than joyful atmosphere there in the garden?

Try put a hammock between them… will they support your weight? They can’t! Even if they really want, even if desire is there, sometimes the laws of physics and time just can’t allow the trees to support a hammock with someone in it. It is just too hard for them! They need more time to grow, they need to be powerful enough to support each other equally.

The same thing with two friends. Can you really call someone friend after just one small period of time? In my opinion, friends are just like trees, and the friendship between them is the weight of the hammock they can support together. No matter how rainy or windy and stormy the weather is, they will keep on supporting the weight! Because they have grown strong and they will be like that until they are cut down…

I miss my trees… and you don’t know how much you miss the oak trees until you try and share a hammock with a shrub. You can’t be confident in a shrub. Is can lean in any direction. It’s just the way it is. You just have to wait for the shrub to become an oak, and as you know… not all shrubs become an oak! Sometimes, they rest a shrub for their entire existence.

You must think well before tiding a hammock with someone. Sometimes, you just go with the flow, because you know you must have someone else at the other end to keep the hammock up in the air…  You mustn’t give up trying, you never know when the trunk starts to grow…

The forests are wide… keep on searching until that strong oak comes along… circumstances bring always new trees to be plant 🙂 

NO to racism!

One of the hot subjects of this week in France was the attack on one Romanian gypsy. Since I have heard the news and saw the terrible uncensored pictures I felt the need to write about. But I have waited to see what happens next. But guess what? The French suddenly stopped talking.

The story goes like this. Darius, 16, a gypsy (rrom) from Romania, presumed to have broken in someone’s apartment, was taken away from home by 12 angry French men with the intention to give him a lesson. Result? He was beaten and tortured and left unconscious in a supermarket stroller and official information states he’s in a deep coma in a Parisian hospital.

Why where the French so mad? Because they are sick and tired of all the shit gypsies do in France. They steal, they beg, they ruin tourist’s vacation, they camp on unauthorized land, basically, what they know best! And, as most of them come from Romania, they put all of us in bad light.

The biggest problem? Well, let’s just say, most of French people aren’t that bright to make the difference between Romanian and rroms- the modern appellation of gypsies. They are called this way only in Romania and that creates a whole lot of confusion.

Allow me to copy paste Wikipedia:

Romani people

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Not to be confused with Romanians, an ethnic group and nation.

For other uses, see Romani.

 And for French, because I want them to get it right, in their own language:

Rom (ou Rrom2) est un terme qui a été adopté par l’Union romani internationale (IRU) pour désigner un ensemble de populations, ayant en commun une origine indienne3, dont les langues initiales sont originaires du nord-ouest du sous-continent indien4 et constituant des minorités connues sous de nombreux exonymes vivant entre l’Inde et l’Atlantique ainsi que sur le continent américain. Il faut noter que les médias roumains, en particulier, préfèrent l’utilisation du terme « rrom » à celui de « rom » afin d’éviter toute confusion entre les Roms et les Roumains (étant donné que roumain se dit român), deux peuples pourtant différents aussi bien historiquement que culturellement mais souvent confondus à tort en Europe occidentale notamment. Rom n’est en aucun cas le diminutif de roumain puisque les deux termes n’ont étymologiquement rien à voir, c’est simplement un endonyme signifiant « homme accompli et marié au sein de la communauté5 » en langue rromani (langue des Roms)

 Thank you Wikipedia ! If you want to read more, feel free to tap Romani people or Roms on Wikipedia!

The other day at the boutique two French asked where does my cute accent come from. I said Romania. They answered and I quote: Oh, it’s rare to see Romanians working.

What the fuck??? I was one second away to throw a glass in their eyes. Who the fuck do you think you are? Am I going crazy or is this shameless racism? Fuck, even the Ku Klux Klan try to make it the hidden way! I tried to explain them all the above about the differences but they were staring at me like two damn assholes as if I were speaking about the reincarnation of the flies.

So you can only imagine my rage and frustration. Fuck, I hate Romania of today, but I’m proud of my origins. I’m proud because is thanks to a Romanian doctor people still live with diabetes (biologist Nicolae Paulescu discovered insulin). And the examples could go further. I will tell you from time to time the stories of valuable Romanians.

So, you see my indignation when I’m being confused with a rrom. Fuck, I even had my iPhone stolen by gypsy offspring. And we all know how fucked up you are when you lose all your contacts, your photos and so on…

So, what should I do? Begin a gypsies hunt? What would happen if everyone starts to make their own law? And we’re talking about racism and we all know where a major hatred led the destiny of 6 million people who were killed during WWII. It only needs a seed to start the fire… After one public statement made by the French President which was no more than a make love, not war, nothing has been said since!

Yesterday I have read an unofficial information on facebook which states that the young boy died and they are trying to hide the information as long as possible so the spirits could calm down and everybody forgets.

So, I ask you… is this fare, is this normal? Is this what we want to teach our children?

I know, sometimes, they become unbearable, but they share the planet with us… what will we do? Throw them in a modern Awschvitz?? We already did that once… 


To be continued (when they release new official information)


A perfect moment: me, alone in my beautiful cozy kitchen, 5 candles, a pot of herbal tea, my laptop, meditation music and… cigarettes of course! 🙂 I just realized how you can create for yourself one perfect moment you can enjoy in the comfort of your home… it’s Saturday night, and I’m feelin’ gooood! Home!

Well, when I sat down at the table to write, I had something else in mind to write, but I have just received a phone call from my mother announcing me about the death of someone we used to know… she was my chemistry teacher in my 7th grade, and I also used to date her son in my early teen years… he was actually the first boy I’ve kissed on the lips … She’s dead for 6 years already… and she died while her son was on the plane to see her and say goodbye… and he never did… so you see, these are the real shitty things life can do to you… not having the chance to look into your mother’s eyes and say goodbye, not holding her hand when she passes away, not being there to feel her warmth for the last time… and for what? Because you are thousands and thousands of miles away trying to find a way in life…

But the sun will rise again and again and life goes on, even if sometimes you just want to say stop… you can’t. The Earth will never stop turning and you will never stop fighting… Somehow, you find the strength to carry on… one way or another…

I sit here and I’m complaining about my life because I can’t lose a few extra pounds and I realize how superficial I am instead of thanking God that I don’t have to live with the weight of a loss… the loss of someone dear. We always and I mean always forget to appreciate what we have. We are so fucked up that we see only the things we don’t have instead of caring for those we have. We complain about our low standard bodies instead of being thankful about our healthy bodies… we are not happy of our homes but we do not think of those who die of cold during winter because they don’t even have a shelter… how painful is it to actually die of cold??? Have you ever really thought of that??

We waste food and water and there are children who die of dehydration… they literally die of thirst and hunger… Imagine looking at your child dying little by little because you don’t have a drop of water or a piece of bread… and instead our problem is how to buy him a PlayStation…

You go away on vacation and you are frustrated that you have forgotten your charger… and out there people leaving their homes with all there is in it because they run from war in order to wake up again the next day…

We are so used to see all these bad things at TV or in the newspaper or on facebook, thar we have become senseless… We know Africa is starving, we know the wars kill everyday thousands of people, we see every day those who are in pain, that has become something natural…like it’s normal… and it’s not! It’s not natural! We must not be used to it! Yes, pain, wars, hunger, have always existed… but that doesn’t mean we must stop fighting against! That doesn’t mean we have to close our eyes or change the channel and forget! We must not forget!

I know… you ask yourself what you can do about those girls kidnapped in Nigeria or the war in Syria… But that is the top of the pyramid. If you want to change something you start with the base… with the simple things… for starters, appreciate you are alive, appreciate you go to sleep without fearing for your life, appreciate you wake up every morning, appreciate you get up on your two legs and you get to put your clothes on with your two hands! Appreciate you have the choice of what to eat for breakfast, appreciate your family is well and healthy… appreciate your home, no matter how small it is, it keeps you warm and dry… appreciate the blue clear sky without being forced to watch out for the bombs, appreciate while you’re in school, because there are millions who would want to have the opportunity just to learn how to read and write, appreciate now and today, because you never know what tomorrow might bring…

And then… start being a better person to those around you! Try to be more understating…be more caring and let pride aside. Life is too short to be mad with ourselves and with each other. Someday, we’ll not have the chance to say we’re sorry… someday there will be no one to answer the phone, no one to open the door, no one to forgive us, no one to hold us… someday will be too late…

I would like to believe goodness could spread as lice… I’m stuck with a quote from Cloud Atlas:

“My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?” 

We can make a change… We can change ourselves and it’s more than enough… We can try to be less selfish and then we will be happier… Wanting more and more, will give us no space to enjoy what we have already accomplished… from time to time, take a second and just look back and be proud of how much you have done and then you can continue your road… allow yourself the time to just breath and relax and live! One day, we’ll be too old and alone…

This is what you should do… when you don’t know what to do!

Carpe Diem!

And God rest the souls of those who are no longer with us…

What do you do when you don’t know what to do?

Life begins where your comfort zone endsNeale Donald Walsch, I couldn’t have said it better.

Today is a special day for me. One of my problems is that that I remember a lot of weird anniversaries, like the time when I found my cat, first period, first kiss, first time I left the country, and among them I remember things like today, 12th of June, 2013, just 2 days after graduating Paris 8 University.

12th of June marks my first day in the pastry shop where I still work (unfortunately for my body…. It’s like letting an alcoholic working in a distillery in times of Prohibition). A summer job that was supposed to last for a couple of months, turned out to celebrate its first year.

I really can’t believe it’s been already one year. Time runs faster than Bolt, for the love of God!  My biggest problem? In less than one month I’ll turn 27… and what have I achieved till now? Besides getting married and have a pretty cool family…. not much. People keep telling me that having a family and a healthy smart little girl is already a good achievement! But I cannot look at my family as an achievement. First of all, because it’s not MY achievement, it’s OUR’S. It’s something we achieve together every day as a family. It’s not like I’m doing the job by myself. It’s a team work! 🙂 So, me achieving this… drop it… my husband has a lot more credits than I do, so, sorry…I’m not really that role model wife or mother. I just try to do my best, but there is always room for better! I do not consider an achievement. Maybe I’m wrong… who knows? Feel free to share your opinion…

Well, I’ll be 27 next month ( 3rd of July, to be more specific), and where am I? I have 2 University diplomas (Romanian and French) and all I can do with them is…… wipe my ass! I sell 0,95euro croissants! Only God knows how much I struggled to get in school, to stay in school, to have remarkable results and to finish with pride and joy! I’m young, I’m smart, I look pretty good, I wear a Primark dress as if it was designed especially for me by Chanel herself, I speak multiple languages, I’m punctual, I’m responsible and I have all the qualities an employer would wish. I could be an asset no matter where! And what do I do? I post pone every day the moment to search for a new job! I tell myself all the excuses in the world for not exploring my potential… and then I go crying that I can’t stand anymore the pastry shop! I wish I would put the question what the fuck is wrong with me, but unfortunately, I already know the answer… accepting it is another thing!

Yes, I am scared… and I am ready to admit I have become so weak I don’t recognize myself anymore. I’ve become a money slave and I’m afraid to take new challenges. There! I said it! ………………………… I actually feel good. Once said, it’s seems no more the end of the world! 🙂

Expand: the pastry shop offers me all the comfort a job could do: first of all, money. A sure and certain pay check at the end of every month makes me feel secure… comfortably! Second of all, the work itself… not much of a responsibilities, same thing every day, no fucking science to research…. Basically…Chinese work (as my best friend would say). Fortunately, China doesn’t have a lot of Internet access so they probably won’t see this joke so they can’t accuse me of anything 🙂 I like Chinese people as I like all the nationalities on this Earth, so no racist remark… just a funny one. Even a monkey could do what I do! And I could continue with a third thing and a fourth and so on like… the atmosphere with the boss and my colleague, the fact that I have fresh bread at home every day and other pastry products ( which brought me a lot of extra kilos) … But… there is no challenge! I learned everything that boutique could’ve taught me! From washing the dishes to calculating tax.

So, I asked myself… why am I still there? The answer is very simple. It doesn’t take long to see it: It is my comfort zone!

And now, the real question comes… how do you find the courage to leave your comfort zone?

What do you do when you don’t know what to do??

To be continued…

P.S. I actually found the quote on a follower’s blog… Thank you! You opened an important window in my brain! He needed the fresh air! See, nothing is casual… everything happens with a purpose!


Orson Wells once said that you work hard all of your life to buy a sports car, but when you finally have it, you are too old and too fat to fit it!
Well, I think you noticed the message he wants to sends, if not, here’s my interpretation: we work, we work we work, most of the time we have a shitty job that we hate, but we still go on working… and we work extra hours, and on Saturdays and sometimes on Sundays and night shifts, and so on… And we spent less and less time at home, with the family, and God forbidden, with you! You seem that you have just the time for one shower and go straight to bed. We leave everything for tomorrow. Cook that healthy meal, read the book that hangs near your bed for months, play with the children, have sex with the partner, watch that movie you want to pirate for the past year, have a coffee outside, go for a jog, make a tri in your shoes……………….and these are just a few of the many examples I can provide right now… and why can’t we do all that? Why don’t we have the time? Why aren’t we capable for solving those To Do list that are waiting for month and years?? Why?

Why? Because of the money! Because money have taken control over our lives. Now, as always actually, everything depends on the money! Because making money leaves us no time to spend it!
I couldn’t have picked a more inspiring moment to write than right now. Imagine a mild storm outside, with the rain drops singing in my ear, just after watching a very inspiring documentary: Mike Tyson- my side of the truth. Well, what cannot I say, people surprise me more on more everyday. Who would’ve known Tyson is more than a brainless gorilla? He is actually not bad at all in the talker posture! Good for you, Mike 🙂

Oh my, it’s pouring outside… I’m loving it 🙂

So, I’ll let money aside for an instant, because we’re hanged up about money every day, so… tonight it’s about anything else but money. That introduction I made about the money was because I found that interesting quote of Welles while sorting my things out! Guess what? I’ve moved out from my mom’s place. I actually sleep in my own place! And I even cooked the first meal (maybe cooked it’s a bit big… fried some stuff would be more accurate 🙂 ) .

17. This is the number of how many times I’ve made my suitcase to move in the past 9 years. I’ve moved 17 times. 17 changes, 17 times when I thought that this time is gonna be home. 17 times of screwing my brains out! 17 times to try to make it look like home. 17 times of trying to feel like you belong there. 17 times of letting things behind… 17 new chances, 17 new beginnings, 17 hopes, 17 dreams, 17 first nights of fear…
You know that in this particular moment when I know for sure that everyone’s sleeping, I have the impression that someone is moving around… yeah, typically for a new house. I told you I’m living in a fuckin’ B class movie. It never rains like this in Paris with thunders and lightning… you don’t see this shit in Paris. And since yesterday, when I moved in, it’s been like the Adams Family around my block. What the fuck?? 🙂 So cliche my life sometimes… moving into a new home, storm outside… so this shit really exists:))

So, connection between money and me moving out from my mom’s?? Let’s say I wanted to stay under mamma’s skirt a bit longer. Taking advantage of not payin’ rent, not doin’ the dishes, not doin’ laundry, … not doin’ basically anything. And of course, not to mention having a full time baby sitter (sorry mom 🙂 ) Well, for some that would be heaven on Earth, no? Let’s think again. Living with you husband, with your 4 year old kid and your mother under the same roof. Living with a very stubborn husband, a highly energetic 4 year old and a very loud mother. Yeah, picture begins to change. Not that comfy? Imagine all that in a house of 1-2 persons max. And imagine you are me and you need your fucking precious moments of silence, of peace and quite! And you work all day long to make money, and you come home in a very loud place (me arguing mom, mom arguing my husband, my kid arguing with everyone)… and you are too tired to go out because tomorrow you work again, and the day after, and after…and for always. You have money to go out, but you are just too tired. And when you are not too tired you have to stay with the kid, because someone else is tired too… so…. You realize that you don’t know why you’re working… you don’t have any satisfaction… you’re not happy at work, you don’t have the time and the right conditions to be happy where you live… so you start wondering…what the fuck??? Something’s wrong in the equation!!! In the first place you think you wanna got out more, do more things… but you know no matter what you do, most of the times you just wanna chill in your crib! Just chill…The nest where you go to sleep every night must charge you just like you charge your smartphone everynight! Your smart ass must be charged also every night! Try charging an iPhone 5 with an old 3210i Nokia.

But what happens when you can’t chill in your crib?

I was very scared of movin’ out… I was scared financially, I was scared emotionally, and I was scared about all the new responsibilities… rent, laundry, dishes, etc 🙂 Not doing too much of these stuff for the past 4 years… hmmm, I feel a bit rusty:)

But… look at this moment… I’m not forced to lock myself in the bathroom in order to have a moment alone with my thoughts and write… I have my own separate kitchen where I can smoke freely a cigarette and sit at the table and write… without anyone being disturbed of my typing noise! I’m chillin’… just chillin’

The moral: Having your own crib it’s way more profitable than not paying rent, because chillin’ in peace and quiet it’s priceless!!!

I miss doing nothing and I miss doing everything

2013-08-06 22.08.11My home sky

I don’t know if it’s my bipolarity I think I have or the fact that today marks 2 years in Paris, or the fact that once again I’m gonna change the house where I live, but I’m feelin’ melancholic. Geez, I go too easy when I say melancholic. I feel like throwing myself in front of the train. I miss home… I miss stability, I miss being sure about tomorrow. I miss those days when rent was a word out of my vocabulary… I miss doing nothing and I miss doing everything I want.

I miss those long summer nights and the smell of the Queen of the Night flower in my grandma’s balcony. I miss those long walks with my best friends until the sunrise was sayin’ hello. I miss layin’ in bed until noon and go swimming at night. I miss the smell of a homemade apple pie and a fresh lemonade. I miss the heat melting my heart and I miss my heart being hot. I miss chasing my dreams and running to catch the stars! I miss the taste of one real tomato and the salty old cheese. I miss the freedom of childhood and I miss skipping school just to hang around… I miss the way I thought about life and I miss how life taught me around. I miss my years I have lost and I miss the time I had to lose. I miss me and I miss them…

I miss the morning sun shining above my window and I miss taking a nap if my eyes were closing. I miss the joy of a Kinder Surprise and I miss the taste of stolen apples. I miss how easy life was and I miss how hard school seemed to be. I miss being there and I miss wishing to be here! I miss the Sunday meals when we were all together and I miss the days when we missed each other. I miss the cherry blossom scent around the block and I miss the odor of the freshly cut lawn…

I miss hide and seek and I miss not hiding from those who seek. I miss the games we used to play and I miss not playin’ someone else’s game. I miss believing in my dreams and I miss not stopping to dream. I miss the way I saw myself and I miss not hating the self today. I miss having the courage to jump and I miss not livin’ on the edge. I miss belonging somewhere and I miss not being everywhere. I miss when everything was possible and I miss not the impossible.

I miss doing nothing I miss doing everything…


As I stated it before… you always appreciate what you have/had after you lose it. I used the two forms of present and past tense because sometimes you can’t take back what you have lost, sometimes you can’t click “undo”.

As I’m sitting in my old room back in my hometown (where I’m spending my brief Easter Holidays), I can’t stop thinking of all the things I’ve lived here. It’s hard having to know you are thousands of miles away from home, away from family and friends, away from the places so close to your heart and mind.

There’s not a day that goes by, without me thinking of how my life would had been if I was still here. This is the place where my grandfather told me hundreds of bedtime stories, stimulating my mind and my imagination, where he taught me how  to read and write, this is where he opened my gates to the universe. He gave the most precious gift: the thirst of knowledge. This is where I’ve first learned that life is made of changes which we are obliged to accept when I cried for leaving kindergarten to go to school. Here, I felt the first butterflies in my stomach when I had my first kiss and here I have drowned myself in tears when I had my heart broken for the first time! It’s here where there are the persons most sacred to me who have raised me and the mirrors where I have watched myself grown. This is where I was born and these are my roots.

Can you tell me if there is any possible way to forget your roots? Can distance cut out your roots? We know roots go deep… they disperse in width and length… but what do you do when there are so tightened and the pressure is so high? Like an elastic band that you keep trying to enlarge… and you keep trying… and you pull harder and harder… you know the elastic band is strong… it can’t brake… but it becomes thinner and thinner with every pull… you can’t let go, even if you know the tension gets higher and higher… you know that if one end will give up, the other end will get hurt…

I’m afraid to let go of my end… even though the tension and the pressure is high, the feeling that I belong somewhere is keeping my head sane. I need to feel that I belong somewhere. I need my roots. I need to know that I have one place where I can always return and feel safe no matter what. That’s why home is irreplaceable.

When I first left home for the Big City, at 17, I thought I was gonna live in Paradise. No one to control me, no one to tell me when should I get home, no one to tell me what to wear, no one to go talk to the teachers, no one to wait for me at 5 a.m. in the morning threatening me never to go out again, no one to tell me clean my room, no one to push me eat my soup… but instead… there was no one to care for me, no one to guide me, no one to advise me, no one to convince the teacher that I was skipping school because I was sick (and not that I was gone in vacation), no one to make me a tea at 5 a.m. in the morning when I was sick, no one to help me clean my room, no one to wait for me with a hot soup.

The illusion of freedom was fading fast as I was trying to cut out my roots, intentionally. Freedom comes with responsibilities, as the basis of democracy states. That is way you need way more time to be well cooked before we set out to go on your own. How do you know you’re ready to take off? When it’s the hardest thing to do! When you realize how much you will miss your nest!

Years have passed and destiny wanted me to go farther and farther… and I left in search of my destiny. I know it’s out there, that’s why it’s called destiny, it’s a sure thing you will find it someday… but I think the search is the greatest gift of all. The adventure, the unknown, the thrill of a new clue, the hopes and dreams, the failures and the dead ends, the new routes to discover and the thousands of possibilities. And the strengths comes from your roots. That keeps me strong. Sometimes I feel them like the rubber band that keeps putting pressure on me, but sometimes there are like the wooden roots of an old oak tree supporting all my weight! My roots are my spinal cord. You can’t live without your spinal cord to support you. Once broken, you’ve lost your stability. You lose yourself. 

My roots are my inspiration, my background, my past, they have made who I am today and they keep growing to support the woman of tomorrow.