Faith

In Romania we say… a cold one and then a hot one :). Last time was F for Failure, today is another F, but for Faith! I have always said that one thing leads to another and things happen if you go with the flow. Everything happens for a reason. Even if sometimes the final purpose is not that obvious, believe me, it’s there! I’ve had quite a few events in my life that re-enforced these believes! And the examples… let’s just say I have enough stories to tell ‘till I die..! For example, the first one that comes to my mind right now, is about how we came to live in Paris. Yeah, I can’t complain, it’s fucking fabulous!!! It has worth trying three times! It was not always this fairy-tale we’re living now (I understand fairy-tale by not paying rent because we still live with my mom… I know, I have low standards 🙂 )

1ST time- December 2007

I still remember how we packed everything in one night to free our 1 room apartment, afraid that the landlord will arrive claiming his last 3 month rent! Let’s say we had no job, no hopes to get a job, my mom had left the country in august, leaving me with a small land to sell and pay a lot of debts to a lot of angry men, my soon to be husband’s parents had just had a divorce and they were in another galaxy, so we were pretty shaken up. I would lie to say that we had no one! No matter what happened, I have always had my grandparents to support me, in every possible way a person can be supported. I owe them everything I am today, even if I’m not much. I know if someday I’ll be someone it’s thanks to them and it’s because I owe them this! No one believes in me more than my grandmother does and no James Cameron could compare with the bedtime stories my grandfather would tell me every night. They gave me the wings to fly.  It’s true they never thought I would fly 1500 miles away. So, when we’ve decided to leave the country for the first time, it was the hardest decision to take. It was just a few months after their only daughter had left, so this second hit was not easy to take. I spent my last days in Romania, in my home town, Pitesti, just 50 miles from Bucharest (the capital). Only the thought to leave them alone was killing me. How I cried those day… I even cry now, as I write… this is one of my strongest demon that’s haunting me! The fact that I can’t have my grandparents here with me… they’re old, they are alone… and they get older and older… and I’m not there! It’s hard… and I know there are thousands and thousands of men and women and children out there separated by much bigger and suffering reasons like war and poverty, but we are built to think that what happens to us is the worst. I can’t help it…

So, on December 23, we have all our lives packed in two suitcases. Ready to begin a new life, ready to live the immigrant dream! Full of high hopes, in one week we’ll find a job, in one month we’ll have a house, and in one year we’ll buy a land in Romania to start building our house! Oh, I forgot to say, we were 20 years old at the moment yeah, cruel age! Still believe that pigs fly! I left with my heart broken, literally! I cried all the way to the airport, in the plane… in the bus that took us to the entrance in Paris (Porte Maillot) from the airport… I cried like a baby! That cry you cannot stop! That cry that comes from inside! That cry of pain! A really big pain that’s eating you inside! You simply feel how your heart is broken in thousands of little pieces and it seems impossible to have it ever fixed! /

…and cry some more when I arrived in Paris. When you say Paris, you think of that vintage city with fashionable people and cute cafés, berets and lovers on the keys, red wine and Camembert cheese… For those of you who know Paris, my destination was Chateau Rouge neighborhood. Travelling in the metro (the subway) I was not able to make any sightseeing so, the first time I have ever saw the light in Paris was directly in this vibrant place! No description needed. For you out there who have no idea what this means, let’s say you’d swear you’re somewhere between Maghreb and Africa, with a touch of Asia. Instead of my cute cafés or brasseries for a glass of red wine, there are salon de thé for the Arabs to have their gun powder green tea, halal kebab fast food instead of fromageries, and boutiques full of African fabrics to keep it trendy. Nothing French at all. Bye bye French dream! And I forgot to say that all this is at a 3 minute walk from the famous Montmartre 🙂 Where the fuck was I?

Any hope I had made about Paris was soon to be broken! The shock was that big that for an instant I had all forgotten about Romania and the fact I left my grandparents alone. Yes, that big the shock was! Even though it was just one day before Christmas Eve, I couldn’t have any Christmas spirit vibrations! There was nothing I imagined to be. I don’t know if it were the emotions of seeing my mother, my disappointments about the city or just the normal fear of a new challenge, the fact is that my inside was upside down! /

To be continued…

P.S. We have just found our own place!!! Waiting to move out from my mom’s!

Failure???

Today I hate myself. I hate that I’m so weak. I feel like a cockroach. Today I have failed. Why can’t I be strong and ambitious and do what I deserve?

There were times when nothing could stop me! I remember the days when ambition was my middle name. What can I do to find that strength again? I’m ready to admit that I am a food slave and a sugar addict. I weight ….. a lot…and I’m just 26 years old! I know I need help but I really don’t know where to ask! Everything is about money today! Everybody pretends to help you, but I don’t think there is someone really out there who is doing this just for the desire to help others. And for the love of God… I WORK IN A PASTRY SHOP!!! I feel like a coward! I know I’m a coward. I try to think at all the famous failures in the world and how Oprah Winfrey was fired from television because the producers thought she doesn’t fit for TV. And, look at her now… she did pretty well, I may say!

Is it such a big sin being oversized? Should we all be in our perfect size? What is the perfect size? When was the BMI invented? Who said that being thin is the standard beauty? Why should we follow the crowd??

I sincerely admire oversized models…

Normally, this post ended here… when I wrote it… about 3 months ago… but today I feel the need to continue because the purpose is here to come. My dear best friend advised me with a book to read, it is called Steal like an Artist , by Austin Kleon. Wonderful book, I recommend it also. In less than one hour you can finish it. I won’t talk about the book, but I will mention a piece of advice which the author insists on: google everything! from questions, to dreams, from frustrations to ideas, everything… google it! Chances are there a lot of people out there who questions the same things as you do. The thing is I was already googling everything before I read the book to see if someone else is as fucked up as I am. Guess what? 🙂 there are a lot of fucked up people out there:)

My point? I began reading other people stories, I began listening other people stories and I began to see the real stories behind the fake people. There is no one out there living without any frustrations. We are not perfect (and even if some try so hard to pretend they are, you can’t even imagine how conscious they are about their imperfections). Each and everyone of us has those tiny little creatures living in our brains making us go mad sometimes. And the feeling that I was not the only one (yeah, at some point, I thought of myself as the Messiah on Earth), made feel better. Actually, this was the main reason I decided to publish my writings… because sometimes, the courage to let it all out, might inspire someone else. I got inspired by so many stories that I wanted to give something back… Thanks to so many persons that had the courage to release their demons, my confidence starts to gain weight and my body to lose it. And even when things go rough, I learned that gaining 2 pounds it’s not the end of the world. Not being all stressed out, way less tension in my body, my mind is free of dark thoughts (I’m not saying that I have a whole week without a depression day, but it’s a difference than having all days, black days), and the most important thing… less time spent to choose my clothes in the morning:)))) and … time is money:))))

Hasta la vista, baby:)

 

Part 3- Bolognese Theory

Bolognese Theory

Fortunately, everything in the world, has its reverse. And this story is about pasta a la Bolognese. I always hated Bolognese. All that ground meat, tomato sauce, garlic… too… ordinary…too… not inspiring. But I actually had not tasted a well done pastas, except one time made by a friend who was not such of a good cook.

This until winter came and the boutique had to feed a lot of hungry men and women with high caloric dishes so they can be able to face the cold outside. Oh, yeah, Parisians love Italian food! And once I was hungry. I was in the mood for pastas, but, when I turned to see what’s left… there were only two bowl of… of course… Bolognese! One thing led me to another to taste this dish I have always hated… and… it was not so bad… far away better than the lasagnas. Then I warmed it… I put a bit of cheese and there I was, having a blast by eating Bolognese. There were actually not so bad! After a half of bowl, I was like… I couldn’t let the bowl aside… it was that good. Just like one good mercy fuck with a geek which turns up to be not that bad, actually great in the end, unlike the Lasagnas which was the “captain of the football team” who fucks quick and terrible and it’s only the image we are mad about 🙂 

Conclusion: Never judge before you know! You might get surprised! Let yourself time to know before you put a verdict. Things might surprise me if you let time do his job. Many times we let ourselves fooled by the first impression (which can be good or bad). We hurry to put an etiquette on people, marginalize them just because they don’t look in a certain way. We reject people and we discriminate only because we don’t allow the time to get to know them. And, unfortunately, today we discriminate a lot. I watch my 4 year old daughter telling why she doesn’t want to be friends with I don’t what girl because she has an ugly dress. And this is our fault, our society’s fault, because before that my daughter was marginalized in front of our block by other kids because she wasn’t speaking well (she was two years old and they spoke a different language than her’s. And now of course, they are all friends because I bought them with sweets and candies and awesome anniversary parties! Yeah, I know, it’s not the best example I could give to my daughter but I was raised in a world where I found out that everything has a price! Or at least… almost!

So, the thing is, we have the tendency to make what others do to us… why??? I know, we’re no fucking Jesus… but at least… can we try to be more good with other? why all this cruelty, why all this envy? why all this hypocrisy? why all the gossip, why all the interest on your neighbor’s new car? These are the little things that can change our kids mentality on the long term… Just be who you wanna be without being interested on x or y and why he did that or where she went and with whom!! It’s not your fucking business! And don’t try to make any suppositions on someone else’s life! You could never know what’s inside someone else’s soul! 

In my personal experience I have no greater story than how I met my husband. When I first met him, I was not even 19. Last year of high school, and even though I was attending that school for over a year we had never met. One week before school end, we had The Prom! Something like the American one, but without the queen and the king. Let’s say we turned out to be the royal family after all, in a very Bolognese style, but this story is way too complicated for this evening and plus that I had to type on my laptop all yesterday stuff, so, quoting Scarlet O’Hara: Tomorrow is another day. 

Stay tuned:) 

Scent vs. Taste

At the boutique where I work we serve Lasagnas and pastas a la Bolognese. Lasagnas I always loved, or at least their reputation. Back in my country, it’s not something you eat often. So, maybe it’s the fantasy I was mad about. On the other hand, Bolognese… bleah!!! Ground meat, tomato sauce… not something among my favorites.

Lasagnas, Bolognese and other stuff…

Part 1- other stuff…

The thing is… if you want to make time for you, you can sort it out somehow. I have been using all the pretexts and all the excuses in the world for not doing what I had in mind. Not having the time is the lowest excuse ever! If you love something real bad, you find the time! It doesn’t matter if it’s 5 minutes or 5 hours. It’s important to be all the time, ideally on a daily basis. Each and every day of our lives, it counts!

Imagine you’re on your death bed (even if it sound creepy… that day will come, except when you die in an accident, so you are not in your bed). You would do anything to have just one more day. I can’t even imagine how much it means one day! Lives change in one day! Destinies are written in one day. One day can make history! And examples are countless. Think that it was just one day, one moment when I don’t know what Slavic prince was killed and First World War has begun. It was one day when Hitler’s mother decided to get married and have Hitler and we all know how it went. Or, think of the day when Lady Diana died. That changed the course of history. Imagine if she would had lived and had a baby with Dodi… an Arab being the brother of the future king of Great Britain! I can only imagine the face of that castrated boiled rat of Charles and that infatuated non-fucked mother of his. And it was one day that changed everything.

Then why not appreciate every day I have? Why not make every day a celebration of life? Why not take advantage of all the days I have? I work hard every day, I’m there only for the money because living as a bohemian is no longer an option for me when I’m responsible for a little creature which is my baby. I start to realize that I’m in my comfort zone… but really, where’s the soul’s satisfaction? And I don’t understand one thing… why the fuck is it called comfort zone? If you’re comfortable in that situation, why leave it?

It’s true, I don’t have a lot of choices right now because of my immigrant status, but one day I’ll have done all my paperwork… What will I do? For the sake of my life, I hope I’ll wake up and have the courage to take the risk and find something else, even though, changes are not my things. I get attached, easily. It’s hard to let go. But since I’ve emigrated from my country, life has taught me things the hard way, so my ass is so kicked off that it has become senseless. Sometimes is good learning the hard way, I’ve said it before, what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger (ok, I know, it’s someone else who said it before… who cares? … the message is important, not the messenger). So, ok, I don’t believe in this quit your job shit, I have a child to raise, a car to pay, I want to move out from my mom’s place… and my hubby is no Donald fucking Trump, he works hard for a shitty pay check! Welcome to immigrants’ club!

The question is… Can that stop me looking for another job? We’ll see by the end of the year if this goes… somewhere… over the rainbowJ

Part 2- Lasagnas Theory

So, I began writing about scent vs. taste. I know I left it unfinished but the important is I have started in the first place. There is no problem, look, I’m finishing now.

However, beginning things and never finish them that’s another thing.

I have mentioned the lasagnas. Let’s say I’ve drooled…literally, I’ve drooled about those lasagnas. The scent in the air, Good Lord, they were making me go crazy… pouring water in my mouth (saliva, actually). Once I said, what the fuck, I’ll bring two casseroles at home. I was having my band rehearsal so I didn’t want to eat in hurry. I wanted to have a special moment, with a glass of wine, candles…I’m joking with the candles. But I like making a special moment with something I love eating. I may say I have a sick cult of food…But that’s not important right now. So, I told my family I brought lasagnas. I said to myself I will eat in the morning.

Next day, I wake up, I go directly to the fridge, and … no lasagnas! What the fuck? Next second I hear my dear husband Oh, honey, you’ll be glad to know we eat until the very last bite, they were great the lasagnas! He knows I’m happy when he loves the food I cook/bring/buy, but the feeling I got! guess what? This time I felt like someone had just hit me… with a hammer… in the head! It’s like planning a hot date, and the other one doesn’t show up! Fuck, double fuck!

So, I remain with the lasagnas cravings. Every day the smell was killing me softly. Usually, we eat after lunch service, so if there is no lasagnas left I can go fuck myself! I had butterflies in my stomach when serving those lasagnas. I was like… horny over the lasagnas! I know, I’m weird with the food… but that is the word… horny!!!

Days went by… I was unfucked by the lasagnas and the desire was making my food hormones go crazy.  Till one day… the miracle was there. A holyday with not so much clients… so there were three lasagnas left… I couldn’t wait to take it home, so I just wanted there… at the table, right now! My own, juicy, greasy, hot lasagnas… my wonderful lasagnas… no foreplay, nothing… I went straight ahead with the first bite. I was hoping firework in my mouth and satisfaction in my stomach… I had one bite, two bites, three bites, like a savage… waiting for my taste papillary to start doing their job… and BOW!!!!…I hit my head so hard like fish jumping on a water bowl asphalt drawing. Nothing special, nothing that could give me that gastronomic orgasm I was expecting for. It’s like receiving a very big present box under the Christmas tree and inside you find only a pair of ordinary socks! That’s the feeling I got!

With the first occasion I got I went on a Chinese restaurant and got myself a healthy plate of noodles with all kinds of Ho Chi Min, Kung Fu, and Jackie Chan chicken and had my classic but sure orgasm!

Conclusion: Things aren’t always as they seem! Just because it’s pretty and shiny, and it smells good, doesn’t mean you hit the good stuff.

And I think that stands quite alright with people too. Or situations. I have high hopes usually. I trust people. I give them credit from the start. I don’t know why, considering today’s society where everybody will fuck you at some point (almost), but I do, I trust people. I want to believe the goodness in us still exists. And many times I’m disappointed. And I haven’t stop believing this. I do believe in humanity… still! I’m thrilled by new people, by new situations, new clothes… and I’ve never known why there or so many times when it turns to be not so good. And normally, then,  I feel bad. Disappointment is not the nicest thing in the world.  A person who seems nice is actually a snake, a situation can have many turn ups, and a dress you have dreamed for a month to have it makes your ass looks as big as Chinatown!

And over the years, I realized that I throw myself ahead without thinking. So, as Celine Dion says, Think Twice, would not be such a bad thing. First impression can fool you. I sometimes get so excited that my neurons are like… drunk. And when you’re drunk you usually call and text your ex… stuff like this that you regret when you wake up.

My point? Let myself a bit more time to know what I’m dealing with. Reflect before act. I think this would be a very mature thing to do. Accepting or not, I’m a young adult and as my best friend says: there are times when you simply cannot blame age, anymore. Wise words, my dear! Plus, reflecting before acting means not so many disappointing stuff, which results in happier life! Ta daa!!!

So, at the beginning of today’s post I’ve stated something: that you can always find time for the thing you love. Proof: The Lasagnas Theory was written entirely during a Saturday at the boutique. I have taken advantage of the Saturday’s quiet profile and I brought my notebook (a real one with sheets) and I wrote down between two clients! /

To be continued…

08.01.2003

It’s Wednesday. I never thought this day could ever come. It’s seven in the morning. Even though it’s during school days, I convinced my mother to let me sleep over my best friend. I take a shower, I get dressed and we call a cab. My best friend she’s coming with me. She is always there, no matter what stupid things I do, she always stayed. I really must have done something right in my life to deserve such a friend.

When a get out of cab, it’s like I quit my real life and I walk into someone else’s. I just can’t believe that this is happening to me. And I have the impression that everyone is looking at me as they know what’s happening. I try not to look left or right, but straight ahead. I don’t have many choices. I try to keep my cool and my morals. Everything scares the shit out of me. I don’t know what to expect. I wanted to play the martyr and consider other options, but inside I knew there were too much at stake. I just can’t embarrass everyone. It’s not always about me… There are a lot of people around me that I need to consider, so once I made the decision, there’s no turning back. To be honest, I know I don’t have the courage to stand up for me. I know that I’m a coward. And I’ll always be. No matter how much I try to pretend I’m not, I’ll always be a coward who chooses the easy way.

I was here two days ago, I could still not believe this is really happening. As cliche as it sounds it is like a bad dream you can’t wake up from. I have waited for a miracle to happened, but guess what, in real life, miracles don’t exists. At least, not when you’re in need for one. I was obliged to make a decision, something, anything…

I check for my wallet. I have the money. This thing costs me a lot. Luckily, I’m surrounded by loaded friends. I went to a friend who has a crush on me and I just let it all out! No hidings. Pure truth. He stopped talking to me, and even looking at me, but, after all that…. he put his hand in the drawer and took out the cash. I know I let him down also. I’m gonna pay him back every cent.

I entered the building and from this moment on, I feel… as my mind is splitting from my body. My body becomes a robot. He has to do what he’s programmed to do and I sit quietly next to it and I watch. I try to open my mouth but I’m mute. I have no voice. As I try to get closer to… me, it’s like I’m actually going farther and farther. The feeling is strange. I want to react, but I can’t. I’m deaf, dumb and blind. When I get out of the elevator, there he is. He came. Monday we had a huge fight over this. But he came. He’s not an asshole. A bit selfish (as any scared teenager), but not an asshole. We’re young… we don’t have a clue about what’s expecting us. We take life as it is and sometimes we get hit. I don’t wanna talk to him. I don’t know what to say. He stays quiet also. My girlfriend is always right next to me… She doesn’t know what to say. This is too much for her. I get it. She is already doing the best possible. She is there. So, silence…

The lady we talked to on Monday, sees us and she comes telling me that everything is ready and we can begin. I start having things in my stomach like butterflies, only that they are more like bats or crows. I have to go in. I live them outside. They can’t come in. This time, I’m all alone.

Inside, they tell me I have to take my clothes off. I’m scared and ashamed. But I do it, as I can’t object. The lady, she is nice to me. She talks to me nice and slowly. She takes my hand and she tells me that everything is gonna be alright! She has a sweet voice and her eyes are soft and confident. I don’t have a choice but to believe her. She’s my only support. He, the fat man with very thick glasses, is very grumpy. For him, it’s routine stuff. He’s tired and rood. He talks to me as if I were the last girl on Earth. The lady gives me an anesthetics injection, but she knows I go straight to school so the dose is low. He doesn’t have the time to wait for the anesthetic to do his job (he has other businesses to do), so he starts right away.

His hands are cold. I felt pain from the very beginning. The second he put his finger on, I screamed. He is nothing gentle. He just doesn’t care about me. I’m just another one. He gets deeper and deeper and the pain is unbearable… I scream, I shout…… She is trying to make me shut up, but the pain… the feeling is beyond imaginations. I never thought you could feel so much pain. I want him to stop. I can’t take it any longer. She is holding my hand. She tries to calm me down, she talks to me, but I just want to have this done. It’s like all the bats and the crows are having a battle inside me, eating me alive, chopping my flesh, drinking my blood. They have like machetes and they cut me in little pieces.  Oh, God, forgive me… The whole room is spinning around, I’m drowning in tears and blood, drunk of this overdose of Bloody Mary weird mixed up! She tries to keep me still in order to let him finish as quickly as possible.

Everything inside me is broken. Including my soul. He’s finished. He takes his green bucket full of left overs and he stands out and he leaves me… empty. He’s like a butcher in his white rope… stained with blood. I see his name tag… and I know it’s not the first time when we meet. I know his name, I’ve heard it… it’s a small town… and I know… Fifteen years ago he guided me towards the light, when my mother gave birth to her only child… now, he brought darkness in my world. He takes is money and he leaves the room. The nurse is cleaning me and puts bandages. She tries to defend him… she knows obstetricians can be cruel sometimes…

She helps me get dressed and she tells me I should rest for a couple of hours in a bed before I leave the hospital. It was over. Finally over. The nurse gives permission for my friends to sit with me. My girlfriends says it’s been 15 minutes. I felt like 15 hours. There is no turning back now. All I have left is tears, but they won’t change anything. The pain has only started and it will stay there for a long time as in…forever..

But I’m still alive… I still have blood running through my veins. You would need the biggest artillery to kill me now. If I survived this, I will survive everything. From now on, I don’t give a fuck. I’ll go to hell, anyway, so why bother? What can be worse than deliberately kill your child?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Many times I hear or see bad things that happen to other people. I see the really shitty news on TV or in the newspapers and I think that could never happen to me. When I was a little girl I thought I’m gonna be a virgin until at least eighteen and only slutty girls sleeps with their boyfriends when their fifteen. But things change, circumstances change and life doesn’t turns out the way I wanted. At fifteen I thought you can’t get pregnant by having just one time unprotected sex.It could not happen to me! But it did! All it took was only one time. One time of irresponsible behavior, only one time, one second that changed my entire life life… forever. Looking back, I know that this had speed up my process of maturity and growing up. Life made a live demonstration of how things can get out of hand and there is nothing you could do to… undo. Some actions you have no other choice but to accept them and move on. Once you made a decision, you have to be sure it was the right one. There are situations when you get stuck with the eternal question… what if? Unfortunately, I’ll never have the answer of what could have happened if I had taken the decision to keep the baby? Even though it ran through my mind to run away from home, I knew I didn’t have the balls to do it. Plus, my mind was always at my family. I don’t try to find myself an excuse. I just think at all the factors I had to take in consideration and at that time I thought this was the best thing to do? Would I do the same if I had the chance to change it? I don’t know… I don’t wanna be a hypocrite and say…yes, because I’m not sure…

Then, I thought, life can’t go any harder and there is no pain bigger than that but…

never say never…

I don’t know what was worse… the fact that I just had an abortion at fifteen or that my boyfriend and I couldn’t get through this… after a couple of months we broke up, leaving me with an emptiness I found hard to fill for many years. AT fifteen you can’t imagine that life actually is going to change and other stories will take place… I made a lot of stupid mistakes. I think I was a lot out of line. But I thank life and destiny because I had the opportunity to live those experiences. I do believe in teenage love and I do believe that we can never forget our first love. It is normal. It is your first real lesson of life! Love can also steal our heads and drive to do the most stupid things in the world and act as real assholes. And we always hurt ones we love the most. Those who are not close to us can’t be touched by our mistakes. They don’t care. The loved ones are the front line taking all the bullshit we throw. So, I have learned something that prepared me for the long term: always think… not twice, but ten times before doing something. At some point, life isn’t all about you.

For example, if you took the oath to marry someone, from that moment on you stopped thinking only at yourself. You have to think of your partner because he or she gave you its most valuable and most fragile fortune. Trust. If you brake that trust, you brake him/her. So, think as many times as possible before betraying that trust. Marriage can be tough, many times challenging, and sometimes it can even seem boring and dull, but if you wait for the other to make it all shiny and perfect, that won’t happen. It’s a work done by two. If I learned one think from all these challenging years, is that… it’s all up to me. It’s me who decides how my life will be. It’s me in charge of my own destiny. I make the choices. Not God, not anybody! I have the power to choose. And I choose life! And if I make it work I’ll try help others making it work.

Making mistakes is good! Doesn’t matter if you’re fifteen or fifty. Everyone is making mistakes. The aim is to try not to repeat them… so often:) Mistakes are experiments. The greatest inventors of this world have made things by experimenting all their lives. And one day they got it right. Our life is like finding a great fragrance. For that we start mixing up lots and lots of elements, hoping that one day we’ll be enjoying the victory perfume! Oh, and how many days and nights have we lost and how many bottles have we broken, and the mess we’ve made to arrive here… it was a long way… but today we smell victory!! Today I smell Victory! Because I’ve taken over control over my life. It’s me who decides. I’m the CEO of my life and I can decide which way I turn the boat! I’m the captain: Set sail and fly away ‘cause baby I fuckin’ love this journey!!! And I’m only getting started!

…to the bitter end! /

Confidence!

It is said that a really ugly woman walks in to a room full of people and she feels confident and beautiful, then everybody will see her like that! What’s the logic in this? Well, none… you might say. But I think that’s a subject that has nothing to do with logic… but with energy. Well, I as I posted in my New Year resolutions, I want to lose weight. That’s means I’m no fucking Cindy Crawford. Let’s just say that I’m a bit rubensian (as in Rubens’ paintings with curvy women).

Oh, what a fuck… I’m fat! For today standards!!! That is the true! My BMI is much higher than it should be! But I manage to dress up and fool the eye with at least 10 kg! Some say I’m damn sexy, some would really want to fuck me (especially the middle aged) but unfortunately the truth is I’m a bit plus sized, I get tired easily and I have a history of diabetes in the family so, losing weight would not be such a bad thing and I’m sure I could be more fuckable. Even though I was skinny and all that shit, some said that my charm was lost also along with the kg. Ok, too much bla bla bla, the point is something else.  I’m sure you all have read about self-confidence and its results. Really, I thought that’s the biggest bullshit ever! But guess what? It’s not! Yeah, the shit really works!

As a plus size girl, getting dress every morning can be a real mission impossible 137. There are days when I love myself. I’m dressed 5*, nice and clean makeup, pretty hair, I feel thin and sexy and all they long I hear how beautiful I am and not only from the guys, chicks also. I had once female client. Not a regular, just from time to time. She comes in and she begins to stare at me.

She tells me what she wants, and she continues to stare at me.

So, she stares and she smiles…and she tells me: “You are very beautiful. Honestly! And don’t take it wrong, I’m not gay or anything.” We started to laugh, she thank me, end of story! So, you see, when your confident, when you feel beautiful, even people who surround you start to look at you this way. But, in the same time, there is always the vice versa. You can be buried in gold and silver, have only designers’ clothes on you and wear Jimmy Choo, if you don’t like, others we’ll see it! And even the stylist of all stylist comes to you and dresses you up, if you don’t feel good, you won’t look good. And that’s a fact. I don’t speak from books, or sites, I speak from my own experience. If I feel sexy, everyone around me sees me sexy and I get a lot of compliments, I feel good and I have a great day. Everything starts in the morning with what I’m wearing and how my hair and makeup are done. And I kick ass! If I feel that the jeans I put on make my but look fat, I think of that aspect all day long, I can’t concentrate on my work, I get depressed and I have a shitty day!

Conclusion: look your best day and feel good! How? Be being how you like it! If you like that old pair of jean from high school ( I know it’s impossible to believe that there is anyone who could fit, but trust me, I know couple of persons, so, yeah… not a myth  ), then wear it! Your tastes are not on the same page with today’s trends? Fuck them! Trend is what fits you, not some photoshoped models. There are some years when they say blue it’s the color. I hate blue! What should I do? Wear blue just because is the new trend?? Fuck it! Fuck it all! Stand up! Wear a big pooh on your head if that suits you and you think is the best for you! Think logical… what can go wrong if you let yourself be the way you want it??

Let’s see… family? Most families accept their members as they are, even if sometimes parents have difficulties in accepting piercings or tattoos, but I haven’t seen anybody kicked out because of a tattoo. I see emo type of kids who are living under their parent’s roof. So, even if they don’t like your style, they have to go along. If you’re under 18, they are even obliged…by the law. If you’re older, than you supposed to move out or go away to college. If you still live with your parents, I’m pretty sure you are not the type of a “stand out” style, and in that case that’s a…win-win situation! Good!

Next… friends! Well, with friends I have a really nice story to tell. It is not about weight or shit like that. It’s way deeper! It’s not my story, but the morale of it can be helpful. So, I have a client, she’s a neighbor who comes in every day to have her coffee with her best friends. She’s in her late 60s I believe. A retired painting restoration artist and one of the most optimistic person I have known. I started to discover her story, step by step. During summer she came in every afternoon to chat with me, as her best friend went on a holiday, so, I believe she needed to continue her habit to have a chat with someone every day! I loved listening, she loved talking, so we made a good team! I didn’t know anything about her or her life, but I was intrigued every time she was telling me that she has to go see her son at the hospital. She was telling me that as if I knew the whole story. I was working there for about 2 months, so, knowing the neighborhood was at its beginning. I knew nothing at all… There were times when she was telling me that she’s too tired that day so she’ll go another day. I was thinking what the fuck is wrong with her. When your son is in the hospital, you go every day! You sleep there if you have too. Always in a good move, always with a big smile on her face, no worries at all, so what on earth is happening here? Then, one day she tells me something that I didn’t understand right away. She said that her son helped her clean out her friends! This sentence blurred me even more. What was she saying with this? What could that means?

So, days went by… I was hearing a lot of her childhood stories, like always, in a good mood, and I was still curious about her son. And, suddenly, one day, I found out. Her son was paralyzed practically since he was born and not able to talk, because of a virus he got from the hospital. He stayed with her until teenage years but afterwards it became so difficult for her to take care of him, as she was getting older, he was getting bigger… so she decides to put him in a special institution. And she told me that most of her friends, or better said, so called friends, they couldn’t accept the idea of a handicapped child, so little by little they got farther and farther. She had the support of just a few friends and she still has it. She told me that raising a handicapped child was not what the easiest thing in the world. Being her only child, makes things even worse. I can only imagine the sufferance and the pain she has gone through. And with all that, she tells me that her son was the best thing that could ever happened to her. Why? Because she saw who she could count on, she realized who her friends were. It mustn’t be forgotten the circle she was in to. The artist world can be beautiful, but sometimes hypocrisy is an artist middle name.

And to finish this story, I just found out a couple of days ago the entire history. So, she was never married, she never wanted children (that’s a habit among solitary artists, so I’m not surprised) and at the age of 43 she fell in love with an orchestra chef, she got pregnant and she decides to keep the child for her lover. So, she goes over her principles of not having children for him, even though having a child 43 is quite risky. They don’t get married for the moment waiting the child to be born. And when the love find out his child has a problem, he took off, leaving her alone with a sick child. So, I can easily assume what kind of man he was. Better off without him! But she did not gave up. She could have institutionalized her son, and continue her life. But she hasn’t done that. She kept her moral and her strength and she continued her life with all the stuff in it. I hope someone else find this as interesting as I do.

So, my point was… being you, as you really are can help you clean out your closet of friends. I’m not referring only to style or clothes or your favorite music, I’m talking about everything. I’m talking about not being ashamed of talking to your friends about your dreams, silly as they sound, burst down in tears at the end of a movie without pretending (in a very obvious way) that you got something in your eye, or even admitting that you jerk off in the shower from time to time (even though I think your best friend doesn’t really want to know this particular and intimate detail).

You know, many times we read on line, mostly on Facebook, amazing stories about amazing people. But I, personally, always believed there is some fiction in it. But, the truth is, there are amazing people on this world. And they really do amazing things. And they have the strength to carry on, real strength! We see movies, we read books, we see on line, but that doesn’t touch us as much as when we hear a real story from the person in front of us! I always was a movie passionate, so character’s life seemed so impressive that I thought that could not happen in real life. But you know what? Real life beats all the movies in the world. I have so many stories in my mind right now, that I won’t know what to start with tomorrow. My own stories, my family stories, my friends’ stories, my clients’ stories and above all, the story I live every day.  And this is want I want to write about! Life!

So, I covered up friends and family… that leaves us with society! Yeah… I would like to say now, fuck society, who gives a shit on society? But I’m no hypocrite… As much as I want to ignore society and be a rebel… I can’t… actually, I care more about society than I would like to, but that’s another story and tomorrow is another day! /

Adam Sandler

So, my little one today is Adam Sandler. I have just finished watching a hilarious comedy starring this incredible guy. I love his movies. You know why? Because he manages to mix all the elements a good film should have. He sends a message using a universal language that can be understood by everybody: humor. So, well done, Adam Sandler!

Today’s movie was That’s my boy. So, apparently is just a very dirty comedy with a lot of cliches, but his unique talent is that he can turn classical cliches into really original moments. And if you have more than two neurons, you can actually read the message between the lines. For example in this movie I have just watched is talking about the relationships between parents and children. I won’t let myself trapped into the legends of the fall to believe that there are perfect families. Since God put us on Earth, kids had problems with parents, parents between parents, kids with their brothers… hell, Eve got Adam into the biggest shit ever and Cain killed Abel… or the other way around… Whatever… one brother killed the other brother!

So, we don’t have the perfect families, and maybe our parents weren’t the role models that we see in insurance or toothpaste commercials. Yeah, life sucks, it’s not the yogurt add where all the family sits in the morning and has breakfast and they kiss one other wishing a good day. Maybe some fathers are losers and alcoholics and some mothers are pitiless or whores, but… as my dear cousin said once, we can’t choose our family… wise words. Except that she continued with…but you can ignore that you have it. That’s true also, but is it really the best thing to do? At that moment I thought she was a bitch telling me this as the consequence of a fight we had (and never spoken since then…6 years or so) but when I look closely I realize that I’m the supreme bitch. Because there are also more than 5 years since I talked to my father. And it all started from money. Short: I was having the right to alimony (yeah, they are divorced since I was 2 or 3), I went directly in court without talking to him first, he was all pissed off, we fought, I won, I got the alimony, after that we fought again, this time he won… he did not come to my marriage or my daughter baptism, bla bla bla… in the mean time I gave an interview in the local press (we might say he is a sort of a public figure in the town) denigrating him… a lot… hmm, when I write it down, it seems that I wasn’t the only victim… what the fuck, Adam Sandler, what have you done with your stupid movie??? Leave my thoughts alone. I’m the victim, I’m the child. He supposed to look after me. He supposed to provide me. He supposed to be there when I needed him. He supposed to be there when he had his visiting hours and not letting me wait hours and hours on the balcony just hoping to have a glance of him!

I’m fucking pissed off!!! I’m furious!! And all my life I hated him for not loving me! Why?? What have I done?? My only mistake was to be born… I know it sounds very melodramatic, B class movie style… but sometimes life is not all A class. Life sometimes sucks! And because of our stupid pride, we let it suck even more! Because we see a little tiny lint on someone’s coat, but we don’t see the straw in our eye… see my point? Well, I don’t like where this is leading to, so I am going to stop right now with the subject… that is my father!

Than, I’ll really need a shrink! Let’s talk about my mother… or let’s save it for another time. That will be too much childhood drama in only one night and I’m no fucking Freud right now.

So, my point was, family problems exist. They are real. If we try to ignore them, they will not disappear. It will only grow deeper and deeper and you’ll end up like me: screwed up. Yeah, I don’t wanna remember my teenage wild era. I have some memories that I would not particularly want to share with… let’s say… my kid, for example? There are a lot of things going through my head right now and I find it difficult to settle at one so I think it’s better to take advantage that everyone’s asleep and just enjoy my precious moment of silence!

Sometimes that’s all you need. Just peace and quiet. I will always stand for this cause. Having time with yourself. There are moments when you just don’t wanna open your mouth and talk to anybody. You just wanna be left alone. Yeah, I’m sure those around me don’t get it much, but it doesn’t mean I’m upset, it doesn’t mean I’m tired, it doesn’t mean I’m not in the mood, it doesn’t I have my periods (those times can be really ugly), it means just I don’t feel like talking. Is that a crime? Does this make me a bad person? NO! Everyone needs a break from time to time..We’re not machines… Even the engines need to have a break, if not, they explode!!!

It’s OK to have a break. To let your mind rest and your thoughts settle down. Meditate, but in the classical way…contemplate at something not in the Osho way, where you should just… don’t think! (but if that suites you better, go for it) Living in the city gives us no time or opportunity to not hear anything, so I’ll turn down my laptop and enjoy the… silence! /

Weight

Weight.

Yesterday after I have finished writing, I couldn’t sleep. It was stuck on my mind what I had wrote about weight and me believing that most of my problems comes from my weight issues.

We live in a society where the wrap is everything. I won’t be a hypocrite and say that I have a solid opinion about weight like… be proud of your curves. The only thing solid here is my body. So, most of my days are haunted by my weight frustrations. Who isn’t these days? I like to eat, I’m a sugar addict, and I’m the slave of food! Actually, it goes like this. I wish to be thin. It is the obsession of my life. To be thin. To be able to wear everything. Any color, any type of clothes. But that’s hard to achieve when you are me. I tend to associate any event, big or small, with food. For me food and sugar and even a bit of alcohol are life’s little pleasures. I cannot imagine a night out with my husband without eating, or a day in bed without sugary, a road trip without a picnic, a walk in a park without a snack, everything I associate with food and drink. Even the smallest occasion I want to celebrate it with food. It’s a culture. It’s a disease.So, losing weight turns out to be the hardest thing in the whole world.

I’m sorry. I’m trying and I’m trying to stay focused, but I’m really tired, so, writing about food and my weight problems would not be the most inspiring thing. Why should I force myself? A little angel on one shoulder tells me that this is how champions are born. By pushing their limits, by going over the edge, (sliding in the same time images with Rocky Balboa climbing the famous stairs) not by quitting at the very first sign of fatigue. And of course there is also the little devil’s voice who is singing me a lullaby. Not even trying to convince me of anything… just a sweet lullaby 🙂

So, my weight? I’m not happy with my body… But, there are times when my clothes are so tight and black that they make me feel thinner. So, I’m confident and all the garbage men are whistling behind me. And I become more confident. I feel sexy! I look on one or two plus size model, read an article, and voilà, a perfect day :). Too bad, that’s so rare I cannot even remember. So, I’m struggling to find the solutions.  To lose weight or to feel good in my own shape?

I think that this subject needs a lot of time and silence, two vital elements which are not my high point right now so I think I’ll just postponed this issue.

Sorry, we’re not super writers every day! /

 

 

My game, my rules!

So, I had planned for today the next post I’ve written in chronological order but you know, sometimes things don’t go as you plan. There are events, unexpected events that can turn your world upside down.

When you think you have everything under control that’s when faith strikes you with the unexpected! But that’s nothing to be afraid of! in our genes as human beings is written this feature that makes us feel fear of the unknown. We have this weird desire to know everything in advance and the tendency to plan each second of our lives (at least most us, I really hope there are a few species left who are trying to make a difference in the human kind, or else we are doomed 🙂 ). So, when something intervenes we sometime panic. We panic when we pass a quick quiz at school, we panic when mom or dad comes home in the middle of the day and they find us at home, skipping school and smoking on the balcony with a bunch of other kids, we panic when we find out that our parents get a divorce, we panic when we see those two pink lines on a pregnancy test- which was not in the plan ( it’s valid for both girls and boys) and we panic when we get to be all alone for the first time with that little human being… the kid!

What can be more natural and ordinary and in the same time the most frightful and the scariest thing in the world than having a baby? Maybe there are those super parents who know everything and nothing can scare them and they are the perfect ones with the perfect child.

Even if you’re a man or a woman, there are almost the same things involved (except one little detail such as giving birth). Basically, becoming a parent changes your entire life. Whether you like or not, you become responsible. It is said that every great power come with a greater responsibility. I believe conceiving a child is the world’s greatest technology.

Creating a new life is the only thing that takes us closer to a god (and god is written with a lower case because I’m referring  to a common noun that represents a power or a energy that rules this entire Universe). Creating a life from basically a few milligrams of sperm projected inside of a woman’s womb is more than my mind can process:) And all the living mammal creatures own this great power. But this power comes with great responsibility. Unfortunately, some skip this chapter.

I know… you had other plans. You haven’t finished college, you still live in a rental, you don’t have enough money, you don’t have a car, you have no family close to you to help you… you just got married or you are in a relationship that still has points to work out and a baby is just not in your plans! What can you possibly offer to a child? You don’t know anything about children and your friends’ children are not your thing. You know nothing about children and you don’t see yourself as a parent in the next 4-5 years which are so far away and you think by the time you’ll have 10 apartments, 5 cars, 2 yachts and loads of money and then you’ll be able to raise a child. And this is the tendency that  most of us have.

No one knows before what will come after:)

But you know what? Everything happens with a purpose, and the reasons are always positive!

Happy Birthday my little one:)

Today was my daughter’s anniversary so she will be always the only reason for which I change the route!