Every year, no matter what additional travel plans I must have, I have to see the mountains and I have to see the Ocean… It’s a must! I see the Ocean for the deep and wide thinking experience that I need every once in a while, and I see the mountains for the peace, and the wilderness, for the freshness that recharges every pore in my skin and neuron in my brain!
This past weekend my friend and I decided to take a day trip to Blowing Rock and thereabouts … Not having done that trip before, my friend had some doubts that we can do this in one day, but I paid no attention to the worries, since I have done it a million times before, and almost every time it’s been a success.
Our first stop was in Blowing Rock where we made it just in time for lunch. Although adventuresome and always ready for trying new things, there are some things that I will always keep on doing, as old habits die indeed hard. I always have lunch at the ‘Speckled Trout’, a downtown fixture in the small mountain town, where they make the fishiest, most delicious, and freshest trout there (of course, if you drive towards Celo, ‘Albert’s Inn’ is a fierce competition, but… ). So, I had my trout, and I felt like my batteries are already starting to fill up…
We walked around the town, mostly window shopping in craft and décor stores, dreaming of what stuff might go well in our own abodes…Just soaking our retinas in cottage-style furnishings and local crafts. The weather was hot, and there is no other word to describe it! HOT! And steamy, or rather sauna-y: very few white puffy clouds, but the Carolina blue sky was letting the sun scorch us while stewing us in the humidity! The town was hopping: sidewalks were overflowing of people , no places to park, bands playing in the central park area, tens of kids swinging, playing ball, biking, kicking off their shoes and playing hide-n-seek and screaming and announcing that the summer is indeed here!
When hot and thirsty, we headed for ‘Kilwin’s Ice Cream’ parlor; we were horrified at the line! It seemed like everyone in town had the same thought as us: the line was endless, and the heat too scorching; we needed A/C and we needed cold liquids or foods, and we needed them fast! So, we opted for a cold brew at the ‘Six Pence Pub’, next door… That place was packed, too, but we managed to work out a table at the bar! A chatty waitress and $10 later we felt a bit better and ready for another stretch of the journey…
After a relatively short drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway (amazingly empty… I guess all the travelers stopped at Kilwin’s!), we got to the Grandfather Mountain Park… The steep drive is always fun, as are the “native” animals in the zoo, and the Forrest Gump Curve, and of course, the “piece de resistance”, the swinging bridge. My friend is somewhat queasy about heights, so he kept saying “I wish they stopped calling it the ‘swinging’ bridge”… I smiled. Actually laughed. There is something about grown men being nervous about seemingly little things that I find endearing… Last time I visited the “swinging bridge” the winds were 60 mph, and the gusts were 78 mph; at 80 mph constant winds they close it down. This time, the wind was probably, with no exaggeration, 0 mph! Not even a breeze! Peaceful, and hot, and close to the scorching sky! Some clouds let the sun go through, making for a great effect of sun poured into the valley below! The vista was superb and peaceful… Like a green blanket covering a sleeping body, unmoved … Peaceful that is, if it were not for the handful of very chatty (and loud) Japanese tourists nearby, that somewhat spoiled the whole effect! Still, there is something majestic, royal, and uplifting about being at the top of the world! For a short person, it’s the ultimate conquest! That’s one moment when I always think two things: I know there is God, because the world below me is such pure perfection, and second: now, I know what it feels like to be a bird: free!
With very little daylight left (one and a half hours was pushing it!), we headed towards the Linville Falls, further South even. After a wrong turn, and a walk deep in the quiet, tall woods, for about half an hour, we were back in the car looking for the right trail. We parked, and this time, we paid attention to the signs! After a 0.6 mile hike, we walked up, breathless, to the Chimney View that gave us an opening of both the Upper and Lower Falls, and we remained breathless indeed! The Upper Falls are smaller but wider, only to open up in a huge, narrow plunge into the Lower Falls, which in turn gets lost in the woods, and then falls quiets down into the bed of the stream in the valley.. My friend, a kayaker and rafter, could not help but exclaim something similar to this: “Wow, that would be a great drop on a boat!”… I didn’t agree…I guess each of us has our phobias as well as rushes!
After several minutes of ultimate pleasure, and wonder, again, in the face of Mother Nature, and Father God, we decided that no matter how peaceful the water sounded, and how hypnotic, we were not equipped for camping the night, and we had to return to the car, since our camera flash starting going off: the first signal the sun was turning in for the day… We both agreed we’re mountain people. How can we not be? So humble and small and overwhelmed and yet protected in the face of the Universe?! And we both knew that no matter where we ended up living, the woods and the mountains will always hold the key to the silence and the serenity we needed so, from time to time, to move on …
The hike back seemed shorter, but that was maybe because we were again eager to know whether we took the right trail: on the way back, we came to a fork in the road, which we hadn’t notice the first time, that lead to 2 different parking lots. We had no clue which one was ours, but I am a trusting nature (not!), and I trusted my friend’s instinct… It was a good decision…
The light was barely in the sky at 8.30 when we got to the car, and we were starved, too!
After a NC BBQ dinner in Boone, we headed home, tired, feet tingling with exhaustion, tummies full of mountain food, and pores filled to the brim with freshness and peace! Mission accomplished, I should say!
We locked the treasure box in Boone, and headed home, on 421! The treasure will be there, locked, for freshness, next time when the “city” will become once again (it never fails!) too claustrophobic and too polluted for our souls…
The trip was 13 hours and a half, but we could do it in one day! And what an accomplishment: huge mountain vistas, opened up into Eternity, clear Carolina blue skies, and sticky Southern humidity, cold brew with my part-Irish friend, fresh, fishy trout in the middle of a quaint town, gorges filled with raging water that allow themselves to be tamed into a stream at the end, delicious North Carolina BBQ and everywhere, the all-encompassing, ever-present purple rhododendron, bordering the Parkway and every valley … It’s good to feel at home and at peace!
For a visual peek:
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alinaservici/album?.dir=3334re2&.src=ph&store=&prodid=&.done=http%3a//photos.yahoo.com/ph//my_photos
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Walmart and other cheap stuff…
Yes, I shop at Walmart… And I am not talking just about the casual once a month trip when you need some cleaning supplies, or some car mats, or some other “cheap” stuff that “looks” expensive but on which you care not spend the buck! I mean, I am a very loyal customer of the controversial joint; I go there weekly if not twice or three times a week. Yes, I am one of those disappearing breeds that “runs into Walmart real quick” (trying to fake the accent here), just for ONE thing at times (like chap stick, or the occasional loaf of bread I am running out of, or even a bag of salad, before dinner).
My motivation is very simply economical: I have one income, and I don’t make enough to spend $2 for a loaf of bread, and I prefer the $1.25 loaf at Walmart, for instance… Not make enough to spend $2.50 for a box of strawberries, when Walmart sells them for $1.50 a box (same box size!). Well, think, just in those two, I am saving $ 1.75 a week! Times 52, that’s $91.00!!! That’s one month of Home Owners’ Fees, or a tank full of gas to drive to the beach one weekend! (or further!). That’s a LOT of “specials” for lunch, at the Thai place (where I pay $5.00, $6 with the tip), and at least THREE individual sushi dinners! I also love to travel, and I would not afford trips to Europe yearly, and outings every month, if it were not for Walmart…
Yes, I know, now you’re disgusted and appalled, that “OMG, she’s buying FOOD at Walmart! Holy Jesus! She’s dying!!!!”… Well, I am not! And yes, I buy “food” there; because when I need the brands, they’re on the shelf for at least 3 quarters of the prices you see at Lowes Foods, and half of what they are at Harris Teeter! And the store brands in some products are actually better than Harris Teeter’s! And to me, a single-income-low-paid-immigrant of this country, it’s immoral to pay more! It truly is! I buy not only food there, but everything else: socks, cd’s, dvd’s, blankets, party supplies, cleaning supplies, plants, even computer accessories, and electronics, car accessories, I buy my paint there, and the paint supplies! The only thing I don’t buy at Walmart are prints from my digital camera. Why?! You guessed it: because someone else (SamsClub) … has those for cheaper! :-) But other than that, I live by the mantra one of my friends gave me a long time ago: “If Walmart don’t have it, you don’t really need it, hon!”. Yes, she was very Southern, so…?!?
I love the place, and that doesn’t mean I fit ANY stereotypes I have heard about since I moved to the US. I am not a redneck, nor am I missing any teeth; I don’t come from West Virginia, and I don’t drive a pickup! I am just a budget shopper. And Walmart fits that bill …- cliché?! OK! I can live with that, too…
In marketing class they taught us that Walmart is hurting the other retailers, because they offer everything the others offer, at half the price. And I understand that! They spend less on customer service, and cleanliness than the other retailers, and afford to save more for the customer… As I have said: I go there for the money savings! Nothing else!
People ask me all the time how I can live with the lack of customer service, and the dirty aisles, and most definitely the infected bathrooms, and the messy floor displays ! Well, I simply go into the store with different expectations than that! I put on my horses’ glasses and walk right through with my shopping list in hand and pretend I don’t notice the “inconveniences”. I am armed with patience and endurance, and move right along… And when my cartful comes up to $50 at the end I smile big! It’s all in the expectations… And I try not to build them up before I go to Walmart …
There is, however, one thing I will never do at Walmart (I am sorry, my friend who should remain nameless, who suggested this!): I will not go there to hook up with men! Even I, a single-income-low-paid-immigrant, am more picky that that! And that is not because of the stereotypes, either: I would not chase men in Harris Teeter either…There is something about men in pajama pants buying cases of beer that I find repulsing at a grocery store…
And one more thing, for those of you cringing: have you tasted the cheesecake in their bakery?! Let me know what you think when you do!
My motivation is very simply economical: I have one income, and I don’t make enough to spend $2 for a loaf of bread, and I prefer the $1.25 loaf at Walmart, for instance… Not make enough to spend $2.50 for a box of strawberries, when Walmart sells them for $1.50 a box (same box size!). Well, think, just in those two, I am saving $ 1.75 a week! Times 52, that’s $91.00!!! That’s one month of Home Owners’ Fees, or a tank full of gas to drive to the beach one weekend! (or further!). That’s a LOT of “specials” for lunch, at the Thai place (where I pay $5.00, $6 with the tip), and at least THREE individual sushi dinners! I also love to travel, and I would not afford trips to Europe yearly, and outings every month, if it were not for Walmart…
Yes, I know, now you’re disgusted and appalled, that “OMG, she’s buying FOOD at Walmart! Holy Jesus! She’s dying!!!!”… Well, I am not! And yes, I buy “food” there; because when I need the brands, they’re on the shelf for at least 3 quarters of the prices you see at Lowes Foods, and half of what they are at Harris Teeter! And the store brands in some products are actually better than Harris Teeter’s! And to me, a single-income-low-paid-immigrant of this country, it’s immoral to pay more! It truly is! I buy not only food there, but everything else: socks, cd’s, dvd’s, blankets, party supplies, cleaning supplies, plants, even computer accessories, and electronics, car accessories, I buy my paint there, and the paint supplies! The only thing I don’t buy at Walmart are prints from my digital camera. Why?! You guessed it: because someone else (SamsClub) … has those for cheaper! :-) But other than that, I live by the mantra one of my friends gave me a long time ago: “If Walmart don’t have it, you don’t really need it, hon!”. Yes, she was very Southern, so…?!?
I love the place, and that doesn’t mean I fit ANY stereotypes I have heard about since I moved to the US. I am not a redneck, nor am I missing any teeth; I don’t come from West Virginia, and I don’t drive a pickup! I am just a budget shopper. And Walmart fits that bill …- cliché?! OK! I can live with that, too…
In marketing class they taught us that Walmart is hurting the other retailers, because they offer everything the others offer, at half the price. And I understand that! They spend less on customer service, and cleanliness than the other retailers, and afford to save more for the customer… As I have said: I go there for the money savings! Nothing else!
People ask me all the time how I can live with the lack of customer service, and the dirty aisles, and most definitely the infected bathrooms, and the messy floor displays ! Well, I simply go into the store with different expectations than that! I put on my horses’ glasses and walk right through with my shopping list in hand and pretend I don’t notice the “inconveniences”. I am armed with patience and endurance, and move right along… And when my cartful comes up to $50 at the end I smile big! It’s all in the expectations… And I try not to build them up before I go to Walmart …
There is, however, one thing I will never do at Walmart (I am sorry, my friend who should remain nameless, who suggested this!): I will not go there to hook up with men! Even I, a single-income-low-paid-immigrant, am more picky that that! And that is not because of the stereotypes, either: I would not chase men in Harris Teeter either…There is something about men in pajama pants buying cases of beer that I find repulsing at a grocery store…
And one more thing, for those of you cringing: have you tasted the cheesecake in their bakery?! Let me know what you think when you do!
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Letting go …
“The moment I let go of it was
The moment I got more than I could handle”
I’ve been trying to let go for years … I’ve been reading Eastern Thought books, and doing yoga, fighting with meditation, and learning about Buddhism and Nirvana, ever changing and impermanent …. And trying non-attachment, and “training” my brain to just stop, for a brief moment and just … soak into the present …For years and years, I tell you … And yet my stubborn, ever moving, and ever energetic, fiery Aries nature has kept me going, and going, and going … And I have been known to think too much, and want too much, and plan too much, and when reality didn’t match my make-believe dreams, I was deeply saddened and lonely, felt hurt and unfortunate, felt pity and loneliness…
I couldn’t learn from my cats, who are undisturbed when napping, nor from the sun who stubbornly comes up into the East every morning, nor from the patience of the monks who dedicate their lives to the Lord every day, in the same unchanged routine every day, for centuries, without questioning…. I was always questing a change and looking to tip the boat… looking for something different and new and “else”… And wanting, ever wanting and needing, and not just relaxing and breathing into the moment … For years…Wasted years and books and thoughts, and I am sure brain cells, too…
I think finally, I am listening to my own body and heart… And I am figuring that after failures and heartaches, the only thing that is permanent is beautiful memories, and happy times that life simply creates for us, and unexpected surprises that we never really ever predicted, much less planned for! … So, for a change, I am just soaking, for once, into the now, and waiting for time to kind of unfold… and for life just to happen… And the surprises are endless… And the beauty of the world in borderless… I’ve had some of the happiest times, and yet the saddest times lately… But I managed not to let the saddest times kill me and my spirit, because I let the happiest time take their toll and unfold, without trying to control either of them, nor be suspicious of anything… And finally, after a quest of at least 6 years now, I am finally seeing the light and breathing the fresh air … I float, instead of trying to constantly steer … And the bounty of joy is surprisingly generous, and ecstatic… Breathless at times … And I enjoy the body-board… taking me to shores unknown and full of beauty, silence, and endless freshness … Not ready yet to jump off on it and swim on my own… Enjoying the randomness and unpredictability of the float, and getting so rich off of simply letting go, and being aware and awake …
This excerpt reminded me of all these, this week:
“You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice. It will roll in ecstasy at your feet.” (Kafka)
The moment I got more than I could handle”
I’ve been trying to let go for years … I’ve been reading Eastern Thought books, and doing yoga, fighting with meditation, and learning about Buddhism and Nirvana, ever changing and impermanent …. And trying non-attachment, and “training” my brain to just stop, for a brief moment and just … soak into the present …For years and years, I tell you … And yet my stubborn, ever moving, and ever energetic, fiery Aries nature has kept me going, and going, and going … And I have been known to think too much, and want too much, and plan too much, and when reality didn’t match my make-believe dreams, I was deeply saddened and lonely, felt hurt and unfortunate, felt pity and loneliness…
I couldn’t learn from my cats, who are undisturbed when napping, nor from the sun who stubbornly comes up into the East every morning, nor from the patience of the monks who dedicate their lives to the Lord every day, in the same unchanged routine every day, for centuries, without questioning…. I was always questing a change and looking to tip the boat… looking for something different and new and “else”… And wanting, ever wanting and needing, and not just relaxing and breathing into the moment … For years…Wasted years and books and thoughts, and I am sure brain cells, too…
I think finally, I am listening to my own body and heart… And I am figuring that after failures and heartaches, the only thing that is permanent is beautiful memories, and happy times that life simply creates for us, and unexpected surprises that we never really ever predicted, much less planned for! … So, for a change, I am just soaking, for once, into the now, and waiting for time to kind of unfold… and for life just to happen… And the surprises are endless… And the beauty of the world in borderless… I’ve had some of the happiest times, and yet the saddest times lately… But I managed not to let the saddest times kill me and my spirit, because I let the happiest time take their toll and unfold, without trying to control either of them, nor be suspicious of anything… And finally, after a quest of at least 6 years now, I am finally seeing the light and breathing the fresh air … I float, instead of trying to constantly steer … And the bounty of joy is surprisingly generous, and ecstatic… Breathless at times … And I enjoy the body-board… taking me to shores unknown and full of beauty, silence, and endless freshness … Not ready yet to jump off on it and swim on my own… Enjoying the randomness and unpredictability of the float, and getting so rich off of simply letting go, and being aware and awake …
This excerpt reminded me of all these, this week:
“You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice. It will roll in ecstasy at your feet.” (Kafka)
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Being slow, oh well! - (thinking out loud)
I can't help but wonder sometimes what in the world is wrong with me?! Why certain things that used to be fun are all of a sudden cumbersome at best, if not downright annoying as all hell! Dates seem to be annoying races to show off and impress, and going out to bars is more disgusting and judgmental than anything else... I used to be : " my way or the highway, go f*ck yourself if you don't like it, bitch"- type of gal, now I am accommodating and give people a second, and a third and a fourth chance... I've also used to be a "kiss on first date, sleep on second ... ok, maybe third... " gal, and now I'm ... well, let's not go there!
I've become more critical over the years, and all of a sudden more circumspect... I hold a lot more tension in my shoulders, from just not letting go (and from asking way too many questions, out loud or not...) ... I think twice about everything and that sometimes is a waste of time, and certainly of fun, or so I think, sometimes... It feels like it ...
I can't keep up with the fashion anymore, since the fashion is more and more skin, less and less cloth, and I feel like my body's starting to feel the 31 years I've packed on it! I'm one of the luckier 31 year olds, if I may say so myself, but I feel every hour of every one of those years... And trust me, so does my graying hair and my speckled skin...So, I don't think more skin IS worth showing, really ... And thus, I "lose" to the youngsters that are showing it all...Oh, well ...
I s'ppose things have changed, and now I have to put on my 31 year old glasses and look at the world and try to integrate and mingle, and ... date ... in a new age (for me and for the world)... Of course, coming from the comfortable cradle of 8 years of being "hitched" is not helping my rusty motors, either...
But hey, don't let me bring you down, all right... The old age wisdom and accumulated experience and insight are there to be shared for anyone who cares enough to discover it ... I know, you're saying: "honey, that, in balance with more skin is LOSIINGGG!!!!" ... I know, so, move right along, please! Save your time, and mine, too ... I may be slow, and judgemental, but I still like myself that way, and at the end of the day, I am the only person on the planet I gotta please! And I am pleased with that! :-)
We still live in a speed-driven century and people don't have time for taking time to discover ... It's the "instant gratification" age, as a friend was calling it the other day ... We all want "one hour photos" and "same day deliveries"... Who has time for long chats or walks under the moon?! No time for that, chick! You give it all out on day one, OK, you got an extra day from me, if I decide you're worth another breath of my lungs, and if you don't deliver the goods then, you're out ...
And that's how I am still in the window, catching dust and still being looked on/at ... I love the circus before my eyes, however... It's better than any movie, and it's free! Some even pay for your drinks...:-)
I've become more critical over the years, and all of a sudden more circumspect... I hold a lot more tension in my shoulders, from just not letting go (and from asking way too many questions, out loud or not...) ... I think twice about everything and that sometimes is a waste of time, and certainly of fun, or so I think, sometimes... It feels like it ...
I can't keep up with the fashion anymore, since the fashion is more and more skin, less and less cloth, and I feel like my body's starting to feel the 31 years I've packed on it! I'm one of the luckier 31 year olds, if I may say so myself, but I feel every hour of every one of those years... And trust me, so does my graying hair and my speckled skin...So, I don't think more skin IS worth showing, really ... And thus, I "lose" to the youngsters that are showing it all...Oh, well ...
I s'ppose things have changed, and now I have to put on my 31 year old glasses and look at the world and try to integrate and mingle, and ... date ... in a new age (for me and for the world)... Of course, coming from the comfortable cradle of 8 years of being "hitched" is not helping my rusty motors, either...
But hey, don't let me bring you down, all right... The old age wisdom and accumulated experience and insight are there to be shared for anyone who cares enough to discover it ... I know, you're saying: "honey, that, in balance with more skin is LOSIINGGG!!!!" ... I know, so, move right along, please! Save your time, and mine, too ... I may be slow, and judgemental, but I still like myself that way, and at the end of the day, I am the only person on the planet I gotta please! And I am pleased with that! :-)
We still live in a speed-driven century and people don't have time for taking time to discover ... It's the "instant gratification" age, as a friend was calling it the other day ... We all want "one hour photos" and "same day deliveries"... Who has time for long chats or walks under the moon?! No time for that, chick! You give it all out on day one, OK, you got an extra day from me, if I decide you're worth another breath of my lungs, and if you don't deliver the goods then, you're out ...
And that's how I am still in the window, catching dust and still being looked on/at ... I love the circus before my eyes, however... It's better than any movie, and it's free! Some even pay for your drinks...:-)
Monday, May 08, 2006
Thank you!
Have you ever felt that ALL your ships will be sunken at the end of the battle?? Have you ever sat there and asked yourselves: "Gosh, why does it HAVE to pour every time it rains?"?! Have you ever felt so lost, and helpless you didn't know whether to scream, yell, kill yourself, or just shoot someone else?! Have you ever felt abandoned by ALL?! Fate... God...Your country... Fate... Any family, and friends you've EVER known .... Abandoned by Hope, even ... ?!? Have you?!? I am sure you have...
That's how my day was... Painfully slow and sad... I don't mind days like these, once in a while: they make me be grateful when I AM happy, and when I DO feel like I have stuff to be grateful for ... But when they come on a MONDAY, I just want to scream, or yell, or shoot... you know... !!!!!
But today it was different: I did feel like all that, and it was a Monday, but because some of the people I know took the time from their busy lives to "stop by" and say hey, and say a few nice words, I did see the silver lining! So, thank you! All of you who did stop by and made my day! On MySpace, and outside... You're a God-send and a blessing to have, so thank you! You made me live, and even smile on a day where I found impossible to ... breathe! Thank you!
That's how my day was... Painfully slow and sad... I don't mind days like these, once in a while: they make me be grateful when I AM happy, and when I DO feel like I have stuff to be grateful for ... But when they come on a MONDAY, I just want to scream, or yell, or shoot... you know... !!!!!
But today it was different: I did feel like all that, and it was a Monday, but because some of the people I know took the time from their busy lives to "stop by" and say hey, and say a few nice words, I did see the silver lining! So, thank you! All of you who did stop by and made my day! On MySpace, and outside... You're a God-send and a blessing to have, so thank you! You made me live, and even smile on a day where I found impossible to ... breathe! Thank you!
I Have Issues! - a MySpace Blog
I've always worn my heart on the sleeve, as they say around here... I always thought keeping secrets and especially lying is SUCH a waste of time ... They always told me I won't live long, too, so I have always been paranoid that I'd go before the world realized how I truly am! I think to this day that not seeing the true me is so wrong, and such a sin, on my part, if I don't reveal the true me... So, here are some things off the top of my head that would describe me... (the moral is at the end, so please read on):
I love travels and nothing moves me more than being in a place that is new, and unfamiliar; I soak up the new-ness of a new place through my pores, and nose, and eyes, and ears; it's what gives me the rush; the open road, the planes taking off, the people-watching in the airports; I love falling asleep with Mr. Fero purring in my ear, and Gypsy kneading my chest, while Li'l Kitty warms up my feet; I love a warm stinky breath of a kitten or a puppy in my face; I love popcorn and fries, and those are just two reasons why I'd never be on a successful diet; I love food, in general, and mostly carbs, but I'd eat anything from chicken feet to sushi; books are my friends on a rainy afternoon, or a sunny morning at the beach, or a midnight any time of the year, in an airplane, or on a train, at work on my lunch break, in my car while waiting for the friend to get there, in my car, in the drive through wash... Books are where my money goes ...; I will tell you if you have toilet paper sticking out of your pants, and if you have ketchup on your chin; I will tell you if your dress makes you look fat, or your new hairdo looks like shit; I will ask you about your past because I am nosey; I love scars, because they always, with no exception, tell a story; I don't like tattoos if they DON'T tell a story; a pretty little rose because you wanted a tattoo but didn't know what to get and you didn't want it too big is cheesy! - sorry! I love rain when it comes once a season! Draught?!? Please, people, this is America, we won't ever die of starvation OR thirst!!!; I love and live for my family; they always come first; I have little patience for movies; unless I can stop, and fast forward, they usually suck to me! (with a handful of exceptions); I like rules, but I love exceptions; I like laughter and to make people smile; I love smiles, not necessarily laughters, since they can be fake ... I like to help people and especially those that are never paid attention to (like old people); I cook my own foods (including snacks), clean my own house, paint my own walls, frame my art myself, do my own nails, adjust my clothes (nothing ever fits me in this country!), hand wash my dishes, although I have a dishwasher; I never buy from E-bay because I want instant gratification: can't wait for the stupid auction to close!!!; I love adoption, and believe strongly in over-population; I love sex, but I can't see it just as an act; if I want to burn calories, I'll go for a walk instead!; I love the mountains for the mystery and the beach for the peacefulness; I hate lying with a passion. mainly because I am not stupid, and I hate when people assume that I am; I love and respect tolerance when I find it, but just like happiness, it's a nice utopia! It will forever be missing in the world, in its pure and absolute form! I myself cannot be tolerant towards ignorance, and others' jumping to conclusions, and conscious and stubborn close-mindedness; I also see myself as a tolerant with strong opinions; like I said: complete and total tolerance will forever be unattained in this world; just like the existence of clean air ... That's the gist of it ...
So, for those of you who lately have been telling me that I "have issues" and I "am a basket case", and "I am at a weird place in my life" , thank you... I suppose I am all that... And I also suppose it takes one to know one, too...Although coming from some of you, it's insulting ... I also kindly invite you to read some Freud, and see how we all are in fact mental patients, in various ways... I promise reading won't kill ya'! :-) And "who is Freud anyways, to be such a trusted source?!" - well, let's just say he has made more history than you, so ... enjoy! Thank you for thinking "I have issues", but please read this, when you do have the curiosity to find out just who I "really" am...
And, yes, I do realize that in my previous blog I said the same about others, but that was not my point there: that blog was about "false advertising"; my point there was that people present a fake image of themselves on this site, when in fact I find out (after getting to know them a bit) that they are very different than their own description of themselves...
And, to close, this is my motto in life, if you're interested (reminds me of my own dad, too, and his advice to me, when I was very little): from Margo Kaufman:
"I once complained to my father that I didn't seem to be able to do things the same way other people did. Dad's advice? 'Margo, don't be a sheep. People hate sheep. They eat sheep'."
I love travels and nothing moves me more than being in a place that is new, and unfamiliar; I soak up the new-ness of a new place through my pores, and nose, and eyes, and ears; it's what gives me the rush; the open road, the planes taking off, the people-watching in the airports; I love falling asleep with Mr. Fero purring in my ear, and Gypsy kneading my chest, while Li'l Kitty warms up my feet; I love a warm stinky breath of a kitten or a puppy in my face; I love popcorn and fries, and those are just two reasons why I'd never be on a successful diet; I love food, in general, and mostly carbs, but I'd eat anything from chicken feet to sushi; books are my friends on a rainy afternoon, or a sunny morning at the beach, or a midnight any time of the year, in an airplane, or on a train, at work on my lunch break, in my car while waiting for the friend to get there, in my car, in the drive through wash... Books are where my money goes ...; I will tell you if you have toilet paper sticking out of your pants, and if you have ketchup on your chin; I will tell you if your dress makes you look fat, or your new hairdo looks like shit; I will ask you about your past because I am nosey; I love scars, because they always, with no exception, tell a story; I don't like tattoos if they DON'T tell a story; a pretty little rose because you wanted a tattoo but didn't know what to get and you didn't want it too big is cheesy! - sorry! I love rain when it comes once a season! Draught?!? Please, people, this is America, we won't ever die of starvation OR thirst!!!; I love and live for my family; they always come first; I have little patience for movies; unless I can stop, and fast forward, they usually suck to me! (with a handful of exceptions); I like rules, but I love exceptions; I like laughter and to make people smile; I love smiles, not necessarily laughters, since they can be fake ... I like to help people and especially those that are never paid attention to (like old people); I cook my own foods (including snacks), clean my own house, paint my own walls, frame my art myself, do my own nails, adjust my clothes (nothing ever fits me in this country!), hand wash my dishes, although I have a dishwasher; I never buy from E-bay because I want instant gratification: can't wait for the stupid auction to close!!!; I love adoption, and believe strongly in over-population; I love sex, but I can't see it just as an act; if I want to burn calories, I'll go for a walk instead!; I love the mountains for the mystery and the beach for the peacefulness; I hate lying with a passion. mainly because I am not stupid, and I hate when people assume that I am; I love and respect tolerance when I find it, but just like happiness, it's a nice utopia! It will forever be missing in the world, in its pure and absolute form! I myself cannot be tolerant towards ignorance, and others' jumping to conclusions, and conscious and stubborn close-mindedness; I also see myself as a tolerant with strong opinions; like I said: complete and total tolerance will forever be unattained in this world; just like the existence of clean air ... That's the gist of it ...
So, for those of you who lately have been telling me that I "have issues" and I "am a basket case", and "I am at a weird place in my life" , thank you... I suppose I am all that... And I also suppose it takes one to know one, too...Although coming from some of you, it's insulting ... I also kindly invite you to read some Freud, and see how we all are in fact mental patients, in various ways... I promise reading won't kill ya'! :-) And "who is Freud anyways, to be such a trusted source?!" - well, let's just say he has made more history than you, so ... enjoy! Thank you for thinking "I have issues", but please read this, when you do have the curiosity to find out just who I "really" am...
And, yes, I do realize that in my previous blog I said the same about others, but that was not my point there: that blog was about "false advertising"; my point there was that people present a fake image of themselves on this site, when in fact I find out (after getting to know them a bit) that they are very different than their own description of themselves...
And, to close, this is my motto in life, if you're interested (reminds me of my own dad, too, and his advice to me, when I was very little): from Margo Kaufman:
"I once complained to my father that I didn't seem to be able to do things the same way other people did. Dad's advice? 'Margo, don't be a sheep. People hate sheep. They eat sheep'."
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
MySpace Quiz - with an Attitude!
This is a repost of an older blog. I have been told, over all this time, that I am bitter... Well, I will forever refer to this blog, since this was pretty much my initial reaction to this whole MySpace zoo, as an explanation as to "why" I am bitter (should that be necessary)... And I still hold (partially) this feeling... Sure, I have met some wonderful people here, people that I really relate to, and people that can see the beauty in a drop of dew, or a cat asleep, or a sunset, people with common sense, and well-meaning ... Just like I said before, and with the risk of being repetitive: there are always wonderful exceptions out there! Just reposting this, for the world, and for a personal reminder ...
This was actually created on February 18, 2006
The MySpace Quiz –with an Attitude!
When I said in the “about me” section (on MySpace.com) that people can ask me “about me” and I will answer, if they need to know more than what’s in there, I didn’t have in mind exactly the questions that I have been getting in my e-mails… But no need to be picky now, I will answer the questions I’ve gotten so far, and hopefully shed some more light on what I want and who I am. And sorry (not really) for the attitude in my tone. Sometimes this site just…brings out the worst in me. And if you had the courage to ask on your own terms, I think one should have the courage to answer … on their own terms as well.
Here we go:
Exact quote: “Have u heard about Do you like? It is very cool site.The thing is, they show you a pic of a boy and ask if u like him. You answer Yes or No. Do u like me?”
Honey, I don’t need to see your picture to know I don’t like you! I’m simply NOT into “boys”. And now I have heard of “do you like?”, and I hope you got your answer too…
My girlfriend made me write to you. She likes to get crazy with girls sometimes and she loves your profile, so she wanted to know if you’re interested. Just to warn you, she loves to use the video camera. Here’s her link, would you write her back?!
Hhhmm… OK, you’re obviously not man enough to admit you’re a kinky bastard who likes to watch two chicks doing it, and your girlfriend, if she exists, probably has no idea you wrote to me. Pi$$ off!
I’m am open minded girl who likes to get it on with other girls sometimes. Are you interested?
Read the left hand side, you moron! It says “straight”, as in “heterosexual straight”. I didn’t say “bi”, nor “not sure”, I said “straight”. And if at any point I would have mentioned I was “gay”, I think I would have used “happy” instead!
Exact quote: “Hey my angel,its been a while i heared from you last.i hope u are ok?why have you decided not to mail me for sometime now.please get back with me immediately”
Well, you can’t spell – I have an English major: see the problem?
I want to talk to you more because I am into foreign chicks. I am in the military. Will you write me back?
No. You kill people for a living. Thanks. I think I’ll pass.
Wanna f^$k?
Hhmm… Yeah, F^$k YOU, but not in the same sense you’re thinking!
Hey, I think you’re sexy, so next time when you’re online, would you hit me up?
I would LOVE to! Upside your head, if I got a chance.
And my absolute favorite:
Hey, am I bangable?
No, you’re an idiot. That’s not even a real word!
Keep the questions coming, people! Thanks for your interest and for keeping the Circus alive!
This was actually created on February 18, 2006
The MySpace Quiz –with an Attitude!
When I said in the “about me” section (on MySpace.com) that people can ask me “about me” and I will answer, if they need to know more than what’s in there, I didn’t have in mind exactly the questions that I have been getting in my e-mails… But no need to be picky now, I will answer the questions I’ve gotten so far, and hopefully shed some more light on what I want and who I am. And sorry (not really) for the attitude in my tone. Sometimes this site just…brings out the worst in me. And if you had the courage to ask on your own terms, I think one should have the courage to answer … on their own terms as well.
Here we go:
Exact quote: “Have u heard about Do you like? It is very cool site.The thing is, they show you a pic of a boy and ask if u like him. You answer Yes or No. Do u like me?”
Honey, I don’t need to see your picture to know I don’t like you! I’m simply NOT into “boys”. And now I have heard of “do you like?”, and I hope you got your answer too…
My girlfriend made me write to you. She likes to get crazy with girls sometimes and she loves your profile, so she wanted to know if you’re interested. Just to warn you, she loves to use the video camera. Here’s her link, would you write her back?!
Hhhmm… OK, you’re obviously not man enough to admit you’re a kinky bastard who likes to watch two chicks doing it, and your girlfriend, if she exists, probably has no idea you wrote to me. Pi$$ off!
I’m am open minded girl who likes to get it on with other girls sometimes. Are you interested?
Read the left hand side, you moron! It says “straight”, as in “heterosexual straight”. I didn’t say “bi”, nor “not sure”, I said “straight”. And if at any point I would have mentioned I was “gay”, I think I would have used “happy” instead!
Exact quote: “Hey my angel,its been a while i heared from you last.i hope u are ok?why have you decided not to mail me for sometime now.please get back with me immediately”
Well, you can’t spell – I have an English major: see the problem?
I want to talk to you more because I am into foreign chicks. I am in the military. Will you write me back?
No. You kill people for a living. Thanks. I think I’ll pass.
Wanna f^$k?
Hhmm… Yeah, F^$k YOU, but not in the same sense you’re thinking!
Hey, I think you’re sexy, so next time when you’re online, would you hit me up?
I would LOVE to! Upside your head, if I got a chance.
And my absolute favorite:
Hey, am I bangable?
No, you’re an idiot. That’s not even a real word!
Keep the questions coming, people! Thanks for your interest and for keeping the Circus alive!
Friday, April 28, 2006
My Heart Belongs to the Mountains…
(sorry for always being so long, but I do not know how to be ... short ...)
"In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, there's a land that's fair and bright,
The handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
Where the boxcars all are empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees,
The lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
...
The farmer's trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall, the wind don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, you never change your socks
And little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats and the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey too
And you can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains...
There ain't no short-handled shovels, no axes, saws or picks,
I'm a-goin' to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
I'll see you all this comin' fall in the Big Rock Candy Mountains!"
I grew up half the time, in the mountains of Romania... The story of that civilization is fit for a novel so, I'm not even going to attempt to describe it... And although I am, by any Romanian or American standards, a "city girl", I will forever be a "Mountain Girl" at heart... All you need to know about this hidden civilization is: to this day, it's my symbol of supreme freedom and of unbounded self-expression.
Up there, we used to be very close to the land, and very close to the most primitive way of living: we made a fire in the stove if we needed heat, or to heat up food; we made hay every summer, gave thanks to the Lord every night, went to church every Sunday to which we walked for at least 3 miles one way, or if we were lucky, we'd ride a horse drawn carriage, we would pick fresh eggs from the stables at the end of every day, we would start every day with a shot of homemade liquor, just for strength and stamina, I guess,we went to the woods to pick mushrooms and wild berries for dinner, milked the cows up in the pastures every morning and night, raised and ate the chicken and ducks, and the lambs and the pigs...
For fun, we listened to the "people's" music, Romanian folk music, which here to me has the correspondent very much in the bluegrass and Americana music, or sometimes even in zydeco, too... Simple and yet such complex songs of love, life, good times, and bad, growing up, and growing old, and growing dead... Just the basic rites of passage that we ALL as humans can relate to, songs that are done with the power of the instrument and human voice alone, none of this computer, synthesizer stuff of today...
On Sundays and holidays, we'd gather up and tell stories, about what happens in the cities, what happens in far away worlds, the violence and "strangeness" and how happy we were there, inside the mountain circle, to be so far away from it all! Then, in the evening, we'd listen to music, and dance all night...The home-made alcohol was pouring, and the people were dancing, and the food was plenty and delicious and fresh, all home-made and eaten with our dirty and tired fingers, and the songs were telling a happy story of an idyllic time ... We laughed and at the end of the party, deep in the night, we all had found a "pair" and we would be sitting in the dark, under a tree, listening to crickets and kissing ...tired, drunk and happy... In the winter, it was the fire pit that we sat around, and kissed and enjoyed warmth and close quarters... It was in one of those nights that I got my first kiss, under a sky full of billions of stars, and in the grass loaded with dew, no electricity and no candle light, just the light of the stars and the moon, and the chillness of the forest wind and the mountain crisp air... and I would not trade that moment (me, a "city" girl!!!) for the world and 3 Americas put together! That, to me, is Paradise!
The passions were intense and brutal, be it love or hate; the words were simple and the sentences short; people were simple and beautiful ... There were no surprises, the time stood still and it just repeated the same old traditions that spiraled around for centuries... It was (still is) a gut-feeling sort of world...
And today, some of these feelings come back, again and again, when I happen to listen to blue grass, folk, some old country (the "real country", as I call it), and whatever they call "Americana" music... The same feverish giddiness and happiness, the same sense of freedom... I have always considered myself, a rock-n-roll, hippie child, grown up on Hendrix, and Joplin, and Jim Morrison, and Creedence, and the Beatles, but this music I discovered when I moved to the States (which has NO ambassadors in Romania, unfortunately) stirs up the deep emotional pot in my heart... I can hear the mountain brook behind our house trickling, cold, on rocks, in these songs, and people folding the dry hay, and children laughing in the pastures, and teenagers chasing each other for a kiss, or two... It's freedom and love... And I can hear and see the liquor pouring and the fresh bread being torn and divided amongst all, as friends... In this world of paranoia and terrorism, I can feel the human closeness, yet again ... It's the basic, most simple things in life all condensed in one memory which I feed off of for strength every day ...
These feelings came back to me last night, while listening to "Johnny's Middle Finger" ("And it's nothing personal"- as Sam says! ) ... They played at The Rhino, and they did it with love and fun, not because the audience was particularly attentive... If any of you, "Mountain People" (at heart, especially, and I know you're out there, 'cause I've met you) can relate to what I relate with in this music, you should go check them out next time...They're pretty good and they can even make you cry! They can really make you dream, and isn't that preferred in this world of crudeness?! They can make you stop for a minute, relax, breathe, and find that basic, primitive, gut-feeling of joy we all too often miss in today's world! Just a nice oasis of unconditional peace and love ... Go enjoy, and drink and cry if you wish! It's all good... and all very human ...
And as the song goes: "life's a pleasure, but love's no dream " ...
"In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, there's a land that's fair and bright,
The handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
Where the boxcars all are empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees,
The lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
...
The farmer's trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall, the wind don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, you never change your socks
And little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats and the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey too
And you can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains...
There ain't no short-handled shovels, no axes, saws or picks,
I'm a-goin' to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
I'll see you all this comin' fall in the Big Rock Candy Mountains!"
I grew up half the time, in the mountains of Romania... The story of that civilization is fit for a novel so, I'm not even going to attempt to describe it... And although I am, by any Romanian or American standards, a "city girl", I will forever be a "Mountain Girl" at heart... All you need to know about this hidden civilization is: to this day, it's my symbol of supreme freedom and of unbounded self-expression.
Up there, we used to be very close to the land, and very close to the most primitive way of living: we made a fire in the stove if we needed heat, or to heat up food; we made hay every summer, gave thanks to the Lord every night, went to church every Sunday to which we walked for at least 3 miles one way, or if we were lucky, we'd ride a horse drawn carriage, we would pick fresh eggs from the stables at the end of every day, we would start every day with a shot of homemade liquor, just for strength and stamina, I guess,we went to the woods to pick mushrooms and wild berries for dinner, milked the cows up in the pastures every morning and night, raised and ate the chicken and ducks, and the lambs and the pigs...
For fun, we listened to the "people's" music, Romanian folk music, which here to me has the correspondent very much in the bluegrass and Americana music, or sometimes even in zydeco, too... Simple and yet such complex songs of love, life, good times, and bad, growing up, and growing old, and growing dead... Just the basic rites of passage that we ALL as humans can relate to, songs that are done with the power of the instrument and human voice alone, none of this computer, synthesizer stuff of today...
On Sundays and holidays, we'd gather up and tell stories, about what happens in the cities, what happens in far away worlds, the violence and "strangeness" and how happy we were there, inside the mountain circle, to be so far away from it all! Then, in the evening, we'd listen to music, and dance all night...The home-made alcohol was pouring, and the people were dancing, and the food was plenty and delicious and fresh, all home-made and eaten with our dirty and tired fingers, and the songs were telling a happy story of an idyllic time ... We laughed and at the end of the party, deep in the night, we all had found a "pair" and we would be sitting in the dark, under a tree, listening to crickets and kissing ...tired, drunk and happy... In the winter, it was the fire pit that we sat around, and kissed and enjoyed warmth and close quarters... It was in one of those nights that I got my first kiss, under a sky full of billions of stars, and in the grass loaded with dew, no electricity and no candle light, just the light of the stars and the moon, and the chillness of the forest wind and the mountain crisp air... and I would not trade that moment (me, a "city" girl!!!) for the world and 3 Americas put together! That, to me, is Paradise!
The passions were intense and brutal, be it love or hate; the words were simple and the sentences short; people were simple and beautiful ... There were no surprises, the time stood still and it just repeated the same old traditions that spiraled around for centuries... It was (still is) a gut-feeling sort of world...
And today, some of these feelings come back, again and again, when I happen to listen to blue grass, folk, some old country (the "real country", as I call it), and whatever they call "Americana" music... The same feverish giddiness and happiness, the same sense of freedom... I have always considered myself, a rock-n-roll, hippie child, grown up on Hendrix, and Joplin, and Jim Morrison, and Creedence, and the Beatles, but this music I discovered when I moved to the States (which has NO ambassadors in Romania, unfortunately) stirs up the deep emotional pot in my heart... I can hear the mountain brook behind our house trickling, cold, on rocks, in these songs, and people folding the dry hay, and children laughing in the pastures, and teenagers chasing each other for a kiss, or two... It's freedom and love... And I can hear and see the liquor pouring and the fresh bread being torn and divided amongst all, as friends... In this world of paranoia and terrorism, I can feel the human closeness, yet again ... It's the basic, most simple things in life all condensed in one memory which I feed off of for strength every day ...
These feelings came back to me last night, while listening to "Johnny's Middle Finger" ("And it's nothing personal"- as Sam says! ) ... They played at The Rhino, and they did it with love and fun, not because the audience was particularly attentive... If any of you, "Mountain People" (at heart, especially, and I know you're out there, 'cause I've met you) can relate to what I relate with in this music, you should go check them out next time...They're pretty good and they can even make you cry! They can really make you dream, and isn't that preferred in this world of crudeness?! They can make you stop for a minute, relax, breathe, and find that basic, primitive, gut-feeling of joy we all too often miss in today's world! Just a nice oasis of unconditional peace and love ... Go enjoy, and drink and cry if you wish! It's all good... and all very human ...
And as the song goes: "life's a pleasure, but love's no dream " ...
Saturday, April 22, 2006
A Different Kind of Easter ...
Every year, I celebrate Easter according to the Orthodox Church, and thus "off" from everybody else. And "off" it is, trust me, to other folks around me, too... My customs, as a Romanian, are very different from anyone else's, including, probably, the people in my own church here, that come from countries other than Romania... Used to what we do in my family, I cook a fridge-full of food, and clean my house from top to bottom, I fast from animal products (i.e. I become a "vegan") for the last week of the Lent and eat and drink holy bread and water every morning, on an empty stomach, while I say my prayer - to respect the Death and the Torture and the upcoming Resurrection of the Son of Man...
The time from Good Friday till midnight Saturday is a sad and somber time: it's when Jesus was actually killed.... I feel like the world is empty those 36-some hours...I feel a void, like we all got sucked into this deep, bottomless black hole; time stretches.... Then, at midnight, on Easter Saturday, I go to church and bring the Light of Easter into my house, and when I hear the 'Jesus has risen, He has truly risen song', I feel the world coming to life again; the sun WILL indeed rise the next day, as Jesus now brings us light. The next morning, hungry and empty after the fasting and the sleepless night, tired from all the cleaning and the cooking, I eat the first "meat-full" breakfast and I crack a red dyed egg. That first meal tastes better than all the meals over the entire year. It's the reward at the end of a "different" kind of week; it's the reward and the "thank you" to God that allowed me to keep my customs intact for another year; it's the "thank you" to me, that I have not once more forgotten about where I come from...
Easter is a miraculous and mysterious time for me, and I find it, just like my whole family and culture do, the most fascinating of Christian Holidays! We all get born, but only "Jesus was risen". It's the most hopeful of holidays! It gives us the promise of eternal life, and I believe it's no random happening that it should occur in the spring, for that very reason...
Although a spiritual believer in every sense of the word, I am not particularly a very religious person. However, I have never questioned these feelings, and this "order" of things ! They were passed on to me, along with my brown eyes, curly hair and short stature... And just like that, they're here to stay forever ... I have done these things and lived these emotions for years now. Even after I moved here (and people invite me out drinking and partying on "my" Good Friday), and I don't have the support of my culture to keep me going (the said people have no clue why I say "no, I have to cook and clean for Easter"), it's something I do every year. To me, it's the "order" of things that has to keep on going... It's how my ancestors left it to me, and I have the duty (unwritten anywhere but in my heart) to pass it on, and at least for this lifetime, not to let it die... Should I skip this "order" of things for just one time, one year...I would feel incomplete...
This year, there will be no one to help me break the egg, and no one to share breakfast with me, after the night of the Resurrection. But tradition, order, love, hope and ... life ... move on...
The time from Good Friday till midnight Saturday is a sad and somber time: it's when Jesus was actually killed.... I feel like the world is empty those 36-some hours...I feel a void, like we all got sucked into this deep, bottomless black hole; time stretches.... Then, at midnight, on Easter Saturday, I go to church and bring the Light of Easter into my house, and when I hear the 'Jesus has risen, He has truly risen song', I feel the world coming to life again; the sun WILL indeed rise the next day, as Jesus now brings us light. The next morning, hungry and empty after the fasting and the sleepless night, tired from all the cleaning and the cooking, I eat the first "meat-full" breakfast and I crack a red dyed egg. That first meal tastes better than all the meals over the entire year. It's the reward at the end of a "different" kind of week; it's the reward and the "thank you" to God that allowed me to keep my customs intact for another year; it's the "thank you" to me, that I have not once more forgotten about where I come from...
Easter is a miraculous and mysterious time for me, and I find it, just like my whole family and culture do, the most fascinating of Christian Holidays! We all get born, but only "Jesus was risen". It's the most hopeful of holidays! It gives us the promise of eternal life, and I believe it's no random happening that it should occur in the spring, for that very reason...
Although a spiritual believer in every sense of the word, I am not particularly a very religious person. However, I have never questioned these feelings, and this "order" of things ! They were passed on to me, along with my brown eyes, curly hair and short stature... And just like that, they're here to stay forever ... I have done these things and lived these emotions for years now. Even after I moved here (and people invite me out drinking and partying on "my" Good Friday), and I don't have the support of my culture to keep me going (the said people have no clue why I say "no, I have to cook and clean for Easter"), it's something I do every year. To me, it's the "order" of things that has to keep on going... It's how my ancestors left it to me, and I have the duty (unwritten anywhere but in my heart) to pass it on, and at least for this lifetime, not to let it die... Should I skip this "order" of things for just one time, one year...I would feel incomplete...
This year, there will be no one to help me break the egg, and no one to share breakfast with me, after the night of the Resurrection. But tradition, order, love, hope and ... life ... move on...
Monday, April 17, 2006
Spring Cleaning?! Or More ...
Every so often, I "clean up" my life... Not just my house, but my life as a whole ... I get into these moods, maybe every 2-3 years where I have to refresh most of everything around me. It always occurs with the spring, since every spring I at least "spring clean" my house ... It starts with the closets, then the sock drawers, and the window boxes, and the outdoor storage I have, then it gets to the bill folders, and the pictures, and then the computer hard drive, and then it moves on... I paint a room or two in my house, I buy new clothes, I do new things, see new places, I haven't seen before, I try to meet new people, and I also cleanse my body and soul... I clean up my diet, and my fridge, and my medicine cabinet, and my bathroom cabinet, I do it ALL!
And sometimes (like this year, hopefully), I look deep down in the bottom of my soul's well and try to see what's there, and try to purify it if I can... I return to the mat (the yoga mat, that is), and I build again a new pattern of meeting it more often, and more regularly... I breathe deeper, and I become more aware of not clenching my teeth or smiling more when life throws a challenge at me (every day, as for all of us, I am sure...).
And I clean up my mind, too ... I restock the bookshelves, and the magazine rack, and I try to open up to new genres and new writers, and new perspectives on the world ... I buy new cd's and try new music out, just to see how I like it ...
It's all invigorating, and freeing ... It always has to be freeing with me... And I try for one brief moment to at least dream of doing one thing, at least one, that is completely new, and which I have never tried before... I'm looking, and searching... I guess blogging is my new thing for sure this year! It's a big step to open up to strangers and such, especially as shy and insecure I am about my writing in another language ... A new way to be vulnerable ... But again, freeing...
We refresh our lungs with every breath, and our heart with new oxygenated blood ... why keep our physical quarters old and smelly?! Moldy and damp?! Why keep our habits and minds full of dusty thoughts? Sure, the basis, the "container" is still all there, intact, but the "accessories", the ephemeral media that populate them need a little refreshment, for me at least... The heart and the lungs stay... not what fills them up...
If you decide to try it out: Happy Spring Cleaning to all ... It really puts you back to square one and gives you renewed and plentiful hope, just like Sisyphus must have felt when he saw himself again at the bottom of the hill...:-)
PS: I know you're wondering if it lasts... For as long as I can keep it... I try to believe I can only better myself, and I never open a shut door... So, what's chucked this time around, stays away pretty much for good...
And sometimes (like this year, hopefully), I look deep down in the bottom of my soul's well and try to see what's there, and try to purify it if I can... I return to the mat (the yoga mat, that is), and I build again a new pattern of meeting it more often, and more regularly... I breathe deeper, and I become more aware of not clenching my teeth or smiling more when life throws a challenge at me (every day, as for all of us, I am sure...).
And I clean up my mind, too ... I restock the bookshelves, and the magazine rack, and I try to open up to new genres and new writers, and new perspectives on the world ... I buy new cd's and try new music out, just to see how I like it ...
It's all invigorating, and freeing ... It always has to be freeing with me... And I try for one brief moment to at least dream of doing one thing, at least one, that is completely new, and which I have never tried before... I'm looking, and searching... I guess blogging is my new thing for sure this year! It's a big step to open up to strangers and such, especially as shy and insecure I am about my writing in another language ... A new way to be vulnerable ... But again, freeing...
We refresh our lungs with every breath, and our heart with new oxygenated blood ... why keep our physical quarters old and smelly?! Moldy and damp?! Why keep our habits and minds full of dusty thoughts? Sure, the basis, the "container" is still all there, intact, but the "accessories", the ephemeral media that populate them need a little refreshment, for me at least... The heart and the lungs stay... not what fills them up...
If you decide to try it out: Happy Spring Cleaning to all ... It really puts you back to square one and gives you renewed and plentiful hope, just like Sisyphus must have felt when he saw himself again at the bottom of the hill...:-)
PS: I know you're wondering if it lasts... For as long as I can keep it... I try to believe I can only better myself, and I never open a shut door... So, what's chucked this time around, stays away pretty much for good...
Friday, April 14, 2006
Things Are Different ...
A lot of people here have asked me what's shocking and different when I step into Europe, or my home country of Romania, and people there have asked me what's shocking and different here, when I step into America... Hhmmm... Just off the top of my head, here's my list of things visible to anyone traveling at first glance:
GETTING OFF THE PLANE IN EUROPE, I couldn't help but noticing the different fashion: everyone looks like they're peeled off a GQ or Style, or Vogue magazine. Everyone has fashionable glasses, haircuts, clothes, bags, and stuff you see on TV, not in real life in small town America, on people going to the mall; the newspaper stands and bookshelves feature naked people, and the sex magazines are up front ; travel comes next, and then politics. People are slim, tall and walking or shopping in the airport boutiques. They have small carryons, backpacks or shoulder strapped ones, and maybe a couple of paper shopping bags, that look like gift bags. They carry bags that you see on E! worn by movie stars... They seldom talk on the cells or listen to music on some device ... They read and walk around... People in airport bars, smoking and drinking coffee or a beer in between planes ...They all wear what I call "European" shoes: they look weird, have weird colors, and are shaped funny. They don't look comfy, just ... different...
ONCE ARRIVED IN ROMANIA, the airport (as well as the cars and homes) was (were) not climate controlled and thus was very stuffy; there was no ice anywhere; all the drinks are room temperature, and the fridges in all the houses I went fail to keep the food and the drinks icy cold; everything there is much warmer, in that respect... They all yelled at me for wearing short sleeves, but the air is so hot and stuffy, I couldn't help it... In the car, on the way from the airport, mom has cold cut sandwiches she made before she picked me up; we stop for beer and mom and I drink while dad's driving us home...
The toilet paper there is pink, gray or beige, and still rough... Trust me, it is, it's not that I am picky. No one eats out in Romania. We cook everything, and if we do go out once a year, we make a big deal out of it, and we dress up, as if we're going to a wedding. Everyone there has high cholesterol yet they eat everything fried or soaked in oil, and insist they're using olive oil which has no cholesterol and it's healthy ... Their diets are weird. You think South Beach is weird? Or Atkins?! Go to Romania...God only understands those!!! Everyone smokes at the dining room table, while the rest of us are eating. They have shots of liquor for breakfast; there is no such thing as "sweet stuff" for breakfast (muffins, pancakes, waffles - nope!), everything is eggs and meat, or leftover cold fried chicken or cold cuts. The lunch always has 2 courses (always a soup)and dessert; dinner - one dish and it's always potatoes (at least at my mom's house) and some kind of meat. There are no traffic rules there, or so it seems: 2 lanes, and 4 cars driving in one direction; passing on the roads is common practice, and honking as well. Streets are soooo narrow, you feel like you're going to hit the cars parked on the sides at all times, or the people driving in the opposite directions. Cars look smaller than a BMW Mini... about 90 percent of them! All cars have 2-3 or more people in them...
The air is dry . A 10 minute rain will cool everything down by at least 5 degrees... Cars drive slow...35-40 miles an hour is the norm... It's a walking country: everyone is walking and you have to watch out for people, stray dogs, and farm animals everywhere ... Parking on the sidewalks and the grass is common as well...Stray dogs everywhere... Can't sleep at night from the hawling of the dogs and meowing of stray cats; they fight, and yelp at each other; the noise is deafening at times ... Roosters wake you up at 5 AM, every day ... Shower-heads are hand held... Coffee is Turkish and awfully strong, made in a pot... They drink it in small cups, too ... Everything is home made, or about 90 percent of what you eat ... The hosts and hostesses spend about three quarters of their days in the kitchen ... Cell phones all have weird-sounding rings: snippets of songs, foreign and Romanian...
ONCE IN THE STATES, what strikes you at the airports is the amount of very large people. A lot of people barely getting out of airport chairs and gasping for air. Here and there people are eating, or snacking at restaurants or at gates. Everyone is either talking on the cell, working on a laptop or listening to music, I assume... Might be books on tapes?! Their dress is plain and simple, seems comfy, too ... If someone is wearing makeup or has an unusual hairdo, they stand out ... People stare without realizing they do... The shoes are comfy, not really stylish. Most people wobble when they walk... Their carryons are enormous, they sometimes have 3-4 of them, and I keep wondering how is that allowed?! A lot of people chew gum in American airports... Everyone carries a drink and all the drinks are huge, oversized McDonalds or Wendy's cups, or huge bottles of water. The books that are displayed upfront in the bookstands are always diet books... Relationships and politics come next... There are no naked people on the cover magazines displayed up front. At all? Didn't look...
Once on the roads, everything is organized and people respect the number of lanes in the road. No one passes, no one honks... Roads are wider and there are no potholes... No stray dogs either. Traffic moves smoothly, with no surprises here... Streets are wide, and cars are huge... about 80 percent of them! The majority of cars have just the driver inside... We stop for fast food, and head home for dinner...
I am often asked, too, which one feels like home?! And I can never answer that: both and neither... or a little bit of both and a lot bit of both, too ... One thing I am still struggling with: trying to make dad happy: he always thinks I am still a hippy, because I don't dress "European", but "American", that is "comfortable", to me ... *sigh* .... I guess in some ways I do choose one over the other... I feel sometimes that I am suspended in between the two worlds, and never really belonging to either ... but it's a great feeling... I feel like I can never get bored this way...And I am also very grateful to know the difference... and appreciate it ...
GETTING OFF THE PLANE IN EUROPE, I couldn't help but noticing the different fashion: everyone looks like they're peeled off a GQ or Style, or Vogue magazine. Everyone has fashionable glasses, haircuts, clothes, bags, and stuff you see on TV, not in real life in small town America, on people going to the mall; the newspaper stands and bookshelves feature naked people, and the sex magazines are up front ; travel comes next, and then politics. People are slim, tall and walking or shopping in the airport boutiques. They have small carryons, backpacks or shoulder strapped ones, and maybe a couple of paper shopping bags, that look like gift bags. They carry bags that you see on E! worn by movie stars... They seldom talk on the cells or listen to music on some device ... They read and walk around... People in airport bars, smoking and drinking coffee or a beer in between planes ...They all wear what I call "European" shoes: they look weird, have weird colors, and are shaped funny. They don't look comfy, just ... different...
ONCE ARRIVED IN ROMANIA, the airport (as well as the cars and homes) was (were) not climate controlled and thus was very stuffy; there was no ice anywhere; all the drinks are room temperature, and the fridges in all the houses I went fail to keep the food and the drinks icy cold; everything there is much warmer, in that respect... They all yelled at me for wearing short sleeves, but the air is so hot and stuffy, I couldn't help it... In the car, on the way from the airport, mom has cold cut sandwiches she made before she picked me up; we stop for beer and mom and I drink while dad's driving us home...
The toilet paper there is pink, gray or beige, and still rough... Trust me, it is, it's not that I am picky. No one eats out in Romania. We cook everything, and if we do go out once a year, we make a big deal out of it, and we dress up, as if we're going to a wedding. Everyone there has high cholesterol yet they eat everything fried or soaked in oil, and insist they're using olive oil which has no cholesterol and it's healthy ... Their diets are weird. You think South Beach is weird? Or Atkins?! Go to Romania...God only understands those!!! Everyone smokes at the dining room table, while the rest of us are eating. They have shots of liquor for breakfast; there is no such thing as "sweet stuff" for breakfast (muffins, pancakes, waffles - nope!), everything is eggs and meat, or leftover cold fried chicken or cold cuts. The lunch always has 2 courses (always a soup)and dessert; dinner - one dish and it's always potatoes (at least at my mom's house) and some kind of meat. There are no traffic rules there, or so it seems: 2 lanes, and 4 cars driving in one direction; passing on the roads is common practice, and honking as well. Streets are soooo narrow, you feel like you're going to hit the cars parked on the sides at all times, or the people driving in the opposite directions. Cars look smaller than a BMW Mini... about 90 percent of them! All cars have 2-3 or more people in them...
The air is dry . A 10 minute rain will cool everything down by at least 5 degrees... Cars drive slow...35-40 miles an hour is the norm... It's a walking country: everyone is walking and you have to watch out for people, stray dogs, and farm animals everywhere ... Parking on the sidewalks and the grass is common as well...Stray dogs everywhere... Can't sleep at night from the hawling of the dogs and meowing of stray cats; they fight, and yelp at each other; the noise is deafening at times ... Roosters wake you up at 5 AM, every day ... Shower-heads are hand held... Coffee is Turkish and awfully strong, made in a pot... They drink it in small cups, too ... Everything is home made, or about 90 percent of what you eat ... The hosts and hostesses spend about three quarters of their days in the kitchen ... Cell phones all have weird-sounding rings: snippets of songs, foreign and Romanian...
ONCE IN THE STATES, what strikes you at the airports is the amount of very large people. A lot of people barely getting out of airport chairs and gasping for air. Here and there people are eating, or snacking at restaurants or at gates. Everyone is either talking on the cell, working on a laptop or listening to music, I assume... Might be books on tapes?! Their dress is plain and simple, seems comfy, too ... If someone is wearing makeup or has an unusual hairdo, they stand out ... People stare without realizing they do... The shoes are comfy, not really stylish. Most people wobble when they walk... Their carryons are enormous, they sometimes have 3-4 of them, and I keep wondering how is that allowed?! A lot of people chew gum in American airports... Everyone carries a drink and all the drinks are huge, oversized McDonalds or Wendy's cups, or huge bottles of water. The books that are displayed upfront in the bookstands are always diet books... Relationships and politics come next... There are no naked people on the cover magazines displayed up front. At all? Didn't look...
Once on the roads, everything is organized and people respect the number of lanes in the road. No one passes, no one honks... Roads are wider and there are no potholes... No stray dogs either. Traffic moves smoothly, with no surprises here... Streets are wide, and cars are huge... about 80 percent of them! The majority of cars have just the driver inside... We stop for fast food, and head home for dinner...
I am often asked, too, which one feels like home?! And I can never answer that: both and neither... or a little bit of both and a lot bit of both, too ... One thing I am still struggling with: trying to make dad happy: he always thinks I am still a hippy, because I don't dress "European", but "American", that is "comfortable", to me ... *sigh* .... I guess in some ways I do choose one over the other... I feel sometimes that I am suspended in between the two worlds, and never really belonging to either ... but it's a great feeling... I feel like I can never get bored this way...And I am also very grateful to know the difference... and appreciate it ...
Soaking in the Flavor of Home
Iasi, Romania
"To really love a woman
Let her hold you -
Till you know how she needs to be touched
Youve gotta breathe her - really taste her
Till you can feel her in your blood "
... when you drive down the road and you hear this on the radio, you know youre in Romania .Things are behind here, with everything .Not only by 10-15 years sometimes, but maybe 100-200 . But thats the charm of being here. And when I return I feel like my heart slows down a bit, just to run, for a couple of weeks, on an ancient speed Its refreshing, just like a good nap.
I thought I'd do a short (relatively short, since I cannot write short )entry today, so I won't piss off mom who already thinks I spend too much time on the PC. I also have to defrag this old machine and clean up the spyware, so, here I go...
What's it like being here?! Well, first and foremost, I am reminded every day why I left: too little money, too high prices, always in debt. Potholes the size of tubs in all the roads pickpockets everywhere and they smell too dust... so much dust and so thick and sticky... fines charged for things that are not illegal, but the policeman is always right, so if they should ask for money, you gotta give it to them (although you get no receipt, so you know the money ends up in their pocket); some parliament official decides to cancel customs taxes for 48 hours only, and after the 48 hours the taxes are back in; reason being: he has to import something for his own business from Germany during those 48 hours and he'd like not to pay extra money .Once he's done, taxes are back The blocks of flats have huge holes in between the stories, from water damage; insulation is poor, and the hard winters peel off the crumbling concrete they're made of; but everyone carries a cell phone, while complaining they don't have enough money to fix the insulation; stray animals in heat everywhere, roaming free; biting people in the streets; people dying from bites, and the stray animals get a lawyer (honest to God lawyer), so that the city won't kill the animal, for biting a human to death; you make $500 a month if you are really lucky and your gas bill alone is $100 of them; gasoline at the pump is over $4 a gallon and most of everybody owns a car, or sometimes two...always in debt and I can go on and on till the cows come home.
On the other hand, inside the house, when you see your family, the climate is warm and the smiles are big; we party every day; we cook grilled food on a real wood grill, and home make everything, from French fries to jarred pickles, from ice-cream to wine . We bring out the cloth table covers and the best China and gather around the huge dining room table when we have 20 guests over, pretty much every week and have a sit down dinner, with 5-6 courses; it feels like Christmas again; we talk all at one time and we laugh for hours on end; we turn the TV on and dance on Romanian music till after midnight . We eat non-stop, and drink too, all day long, and yet never feel quite full nor drunk. We hug a lot and kiss on both cheeks. We buy hot bread right out of the brick oven and eat half of the loaf before we get home. When we run out of the goodies, we need not drive anywhere, since the distances here are so close. When some of the non-family guests leave the women in the family get together around the kitchen table and cross stitch and knit and we talk about the men and how corky and impossible they are (yes, some things are universal); one of us gives some a manicure, and sometimes a haircut, while another gives another one a facial treatment; the men go to the living room and watch soccer; it's all under one roof and all very intimate; we love close quarters ...
It's not the quality of life that is offered to us that makes us tick; we lost all the hopes in all the governments we've ever had, and also all hope that Americans will ever come to our rescue; we have nothing to offer the Americans but our history and cultural richness, which don't come with a price tag! It's not the quality, I said, of life we're given that makes us happy; it's how big of a bite we take from it; we gorge on life here! We love the moment more than we love the future, because we know the future might never come, and it never comes brighter. And the moment is here, and now and at least we have each other. And this is what I miss when I am away. This is why I do come back: because every year I need to recharge my batteries from this richness and love. I need to be kissed on both cheeks and hugged a lot! I need to dance along with other people that won't look at me funny if I dance on impulse when I'm cooking a pot of fries! I need to be free, in my heart... Which is odd I left Romania for the complete freedom of the most free country in the world and yet I come here for it one more time... Just like the boy in the Alchemist or the Buddha: you start on a journey only to find out what you're looking for has always been either home, or within yourself ... It's so ironic, and it repeats with every destiny and yet we always set off on that journey! We always follow what we believe is our path. Mine is in America, I guess, with Romanian detours every so often ...
Home smells like dust and unwashed stray dogs; smells like rain on cool April nights; it smells like starch which mom uses for all her bedding; it smells like hot fresh French bread; it tastes like homemade wine and apple pie (NO cinnamon either!!!); it feels like mom's hugs and kisses: plenty and generous and safe; home is patience and slowing down; lack of speed and plenty of attention on the small things. Home is cats on a window sill baking in the sun ... Home is the real wood grill burning outside and waiting on the "mici" meat to be thrown on it ...Home is poor and rich at the same time, but always happy ...Home is timeless pleasures ... And it will forever be imprinted in my personality and character, no matter how many thousands of miles the airlines will take me ... Home is listening to Brian Adams' song and never even crossing your mind its an old song ... It's just singing along and thinking it's a good one ...
For pictures (might have to cut and paste):
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alinaservici/album?.dir=/b305
"To really love a woman
Let her hold you -
Till you know how she needs to be touched
Youve gotta breathe her - really taste her
Till you can feel her in your blood "
... when you drive down the road and you hear this on the radio, you know youre in Romania .Things are behind here, with everything .Not only by 10-15 years sometimes, but maybe 100-200 . But thats the charm of being here. And when I return I feel like my heart slows down a bit, just to run, for a couple of weeks, on an ancient speed Its refreshing, just like a good nap.
I thought I'd do a short (relatively short, since I cannot write short )entry today, so I won't piss off mom who already thinks I spend too much time on the PC. I also have to defrag this old machine and clean up the spyware, so, here I go...
What's it like being here?! Well, first and foremost, I am reminded every day why I left: too little money, too high prices, always in debt. Potholes the size of tubs in all the roads pickpockets everywhere and they smell too dust... so much dust and so thick and sticky... fines charged for things that are not illegal, but the policeman is always right, so if they should ask for money, you gotta give it to them (although you get no receipt, so you know the money ends up in their pocket); some parliament official decides to cancel customs taxes for 48 hours only, and after the 48 hours the taxes are back in; reason being: he has to import something for his own business from Germany during those 48 hours and he'd like not to pay extra money .Once he's done, taxes are back The blocks of flats have huge holes in between the stories, from water damage; insulation is poor, and the hard winters peel off the crumbling concrete they're made of; but everyone carries a cell phone, while complaining they don't have enough money to fix the insulation; stray animals in heat everywhere, roaming free; biting people in the streets; people dying from bites, and the stray animals get a lawyer (honest to God lawyer), so that the city won't kill the animal, for biting a human to death; you make $500 a month if you are really lucky and your gas bill alone is $100 of them; gasoline at the pump is over $4 a gallon and most of everybody owns a car, or sometimes two...always in debt and I can go on and on till the cows come home.
On the other hand, inside the house, when you see your family, the climate is warm and the smiles are big; we party every day; we cook grilled food on a real wood grill, and home make everything, from French fries to jarred pickles, from ice-cream to wine . We bring out the cloth table covers and the best China and gather around the huge dining room table when we have 20 guests over, pretty much every week and have a sit down dinner, with 5-6 courses; it feels like Christmas again; we talk all at one time and we laugh for hours on end; we turn the TV on and dance on Romanian music till after midnight . We eat non-stop, and drink too, all day long, and yet never feel quite full nor drunk. We hug a lot and kiss on both cheeks. We buy hot bread right out of the brick oven and eat half of the loaf before we get home. When we run out of the goodies, we need not drive anywhere, since the distances here are so close. When some of the non-family guests leave the women in the family get together around the kitchen table and cross stitch and knit and we talk about the men and how corky and impossible they are (yes, some things are universal); one of us gives some a manicure, and sometimes a haircut, while another gives another one a facial treatment; the men go to the living room and watch soccer; it's all under one roof and all very intimate; we love close quarters ...
It's not the quality of life that is offered to us that makes us tick; we lost all the hopes in all the governments we've ever had, and also all hope that Americans will ever come to our rescue; we have nothing to offer the Americans but our history and cultural richness, which don't come with a price tag! It's not the quality, I said, of life we're given that makes us happy; it's how big of a bite we take from it; we gorge on life here! We love the moment more than we love the future, because we know the future might never come, and it never comes brighter. And the moment is here, and now and at least we have each other. And this is what I miss when I am away. This is why I do come back: because every year I need to recharge my batteries from this richness and love. I need to be kissed on both cheeks and hugged a lot! I need to dance along with other people that won't look at me funny if I dance on impulse when I'm cooking a pot of fries! I need to be free, in my heart... Which is odd I left Romania for the complete freedom of the most free country in the world and yet I come here for it one more time... Just like the boy in the Alchemist or the Buddha: you start on a journey only to find out what you're looking for has always been either home, or within yourself ... It's so ironic, and it repeats with every destiny and yet we always set off on that journey! We always follow what we believe is our path. Mine is in America, I guess, with Romanian detours every so often ...
Home smells like dust and unwashed stray dogs; smells like rain on cool April nights; it smells like starch which mom uses for all her bedding; it smells like hot fresh French bread; it tastes like homemade wine and apple pie (NO cinnamon either!!!); it feels like mom's hugs and kisses: plenty and generous and safe; home is patience and slowing down; lack of speed and plenty of attention on the small things. Home is cats on a window sill baking in the sun ... Home is the real wood grill burning outside and waiting on the "mici" meat to be thrown on it ...Home is poor and rich at the same time, but always happy ...Home is timeless pleasures ... And it will forever be imprinted in my personality and character, no matter how many thousands of miles the airlines will take me ... Home is listening to Brian Adams' song and never even crossing your mind its an old song ... It's just singing along and thinking it's a good one ...
For pictures (might have to cut and paste):
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/alinaservici/album?.dir=/b305
Romania Trip: 2006
On the way there...
I started my trip off on March 30, from the Greensboro airport, en route to my home country of Romania. It’s been almost 2 years (one year and 7 months mom wanted to be precise) since my last visit… This entry will be about some thoughts and scenes I came across on the way here… I love people watching when I travel, and I love to soak myself in the moment of being there, in various environments that I am not normally in every day… I find having an ipod, or even a laptop (sometimes even a book) distracting and preventing you from really getting the most out of the travels. Of course, if you fly for a living, a laptop distraction might be needed since you do need to get away some. For me, the travels are still a luxury and I like to savor them, just like I do a good meal… So, people watching is what I did, and tried to take down some snippets of life on this 18 hour journey to Bucharest. Here we go:
- for the first couple of hours (before we took off from American soil in Washington), I kept obsessing with things I forgot to do when I left home… Like forgot to unplug my cell from the charger and forgot to tell my home keeper to plug in the filter for the fish, forgot (not sure) to clean my coffee maker… I was pulled back, and could not focus on the trip at all; amazing how we can be such slaves to our routine; I needed to let go and just literally fly away and feel free… Everything was out of my control at that point; slowly, like a baby falling asleep and slowly releasing the clutch it has on your finger, I finally let go.
- Washington Dulles airport was a zoo… It’s amazing what people do in airports that wouldn’t normally do in regular public places; this maybe 14 year old in a group of teens, had pulled out ALL her paper money and meticulously arranged them in line, in neat rows and columns on the floor. She made a carpet out of the bills, then she laid herself down on the “money carpet”, her legs on the chair and just looked at the ceiling and sang, waiting for her flight.
- The longest lag of the flight (Washington to Frankfurt, almost 8 hours) was probably the most uncomfortable; I was to sit next to this 300 pound woman, who was mad as all hell that “they don’t make planes bigger nowadays. Why don’t they make bigger plane seats nowadays, since the people are not as small as they used to be.” Then she looked at my barely 100 lbs frame and said, and added: “And by people I don’t mean all o’ ya’ Zeros!!!! I mean all the other people!!!”. I smiled, but did not agree; I was “a zero”, so, I guess non-values don’t talk! At any rate, we could not pull the arm rest between our chairs down the entire 8 hours, because she could not have fit in just one chair; she over flew into mine; so I sat on one half of a chair, with the meaty woman pressing into my thigh and ribs; needless to say, I could not control my reading light nor my volume for my radio, which both were mounted into the armrest we could not have access to; But, I was a “zero”, so zeros can’t be too picky; I tried to read and sleep my way through the flight; she woke me up twice to eat… Sure, that was nice! But just in the defense of the “zeros” maybe they should consider making bigger planes, since people are not considering eating less and staying slim, just so the “zeros” can travel in a full chair as well!
- I also had a screaming little girl in the chair in front of me, who kept staring at me over her seat and screaming at the top of her lungs the entire night; just screaming, not really crying nor singing, just yelling, man… tirelessly!!!! I put my headphones on, and since I could not mess with the volume and the volume was loud, I left it loud and I could not hear much of anything else, not even my thoughts; I was too short to see the projection screen, and could not watch the movie they played, since the chair in front of me was too tall… So, yippee… Nice night. Thank god for the Kerouac book I had (I know, way overdue!!!), and the Sudoku one as well as for my journal! You gotta take the fun where you find it… At any rate, I had not two second-thoughts about paying $5 for a Miller Light, because trust me: my nerves at that point NEEDED IT!!! Yummiest beer I ever had, too… Sitting conspicuously on a United napkin with the slogan “Low Fares Guaranteed”… thinking of my overpriced beverage, that made me smile!
- In Frankfurt, I boarded yet another plane, to Bucharest; this was full of older American couples, that were flying to Romania to go on a cruise on the Danube. I love old people, generally, because they have such a peace about them, and they’re so funny! They’ve developed a humor that I can only dream of mustering one day! One of the jokes I heard that day, from them stuck in my head…Two older gentlemen were asking each other how long they’d been married: one said 40 years while the other 49; the one who said 49 told the one who said 40: “Yeah, trust me, the first 49 years are the hardest! (rolled his eyes). I should have shot her when I married her. I would have been out by now and it would have been the same thing!” – the whole bus that was taking us to the plane was on the floor, and I congratulated myself once more for my own thoughts on marriage… because, see, the voice of wisdom spoke and it agreed with me…
- We got to Bucharest safe and sound and one and a half hour late; not a problem, as long as the delay was not a day late, and as long as we were safe. Beers were free on Lufthansa, but it was way early in the morning and I was in a too good a mood now because my travel partners were so sweet and funny that I didn’t get one.
I started my trip off on March 30, from the Greensboro airport, en route to my home country of Romania. It’s been almost 2 years (one year and 7 months mom wanted to be precise) since my last visit… This entry will be about some thoughts and scenes I came across on the way here… I love people watching when I travel, and I love to soak myself in the moment of being there, in various environments that I am not normally in every day… I find having an ipod, or even a laptop (sometimes even a book) distracting and preventing you from really getting the most out of the travels. Of course, if you fly for a living, a laptop distraction might be needed since you do need to get away some. For me, the travels are still a luxury and I like to savor them, just like I do a good meal… So, people watching is what I did, and tried to take down some snippets of life on this 18 hour journey to Bucharest. Here we go:
- for the first couple of hours (before we took off from American soil in Washington), I kept obsessing with things I forgot to do when I left home… Like forgot to unplug my cell from the charger and forgot to tell my home keeper to plug in the filter for the fish, forgot (not sure) to clean my coffee maker… I was pulled back, and could not focus on the trip at all; amazing how we can be such slaves to our routine; I needed to let go and just literally fly away and feel free… Everything was out of my control at that point; slowly, like a baby falling asleep and slowly releasing the clutch it has on your finger, I finally let go.
- Washington Dulles airport was a zoo… It’s amazing what people do in airports that wouldn’t normally do in regular public places; this maybe 14 year old in a group of teens, had pulled out ALL her paper money and meticulously arranged them in line, in neat rows and columns on the floor. She made a carpet out of the bills, then she laid herself down on the “money carpet”, her legs on the chair and just looked at the ceiling and sang, waiting for her flight.
- The longest lag of the flight (Washington to Frankfurt, almost 8 hours) was probably the most uncomfortable; I was to sit next to this 300 pound woman, who was mad as all hell that “they don’t make planes bigger nowadays. Why don’t they make bigger plane seats nowadays, since the people are not as small as they used to be.” Then she looked at my barely 100 lbs frame and said, and added: “And by people I don’t mean all o’ ya’ Zeros!!!! I mean all the other people!!!”. I smiled, but did not agree; I was “a zero”, so, I guess non-values don’t talk! At any rate, we could not pull the arm rest between our chairs down the entire 8 hours, because she could not have fit in just one chair; she over flew into mine; so I sat on one half of a chair, with the meaty woman pressing into my thigh and ribs; needless to say, I could not control my reading light nor my volume for my radio, which both were mounted into the armrest we could not have access to; But, I was a “zero”, so zeros can’t be too picky; I tried to read and sleep my way through the flight; she woke me up twice to eat… Sure, that was nice! But just in the defense of the “zeros” maybe they should consider making bigger planes, since people are not considering eating less and staying slim, just so the “zeros” can travel in a full chair as well!
- I also had a screaming little girl in the chair in front of me, who kept staring at me over her seat and screaming at the top of her lungs the entire night; just screaming, not really crying nor singing, just yelling, man… tirelessly!!!! I put my headphones on, and since I could not mess with the volume and the volume was loud, I left it loud and I could not hear much of anything else, not even my thoughts; I was too short to see the projection screen, and could not watch the movie they played, since the chair in front of me was too tall… So, yippee… Nice night. Thank god for the Kerouac book I had (I know, way overdue!!!), and the Sudoku one as well as for my journal! You gotta take the fun where you find it… At any rate, I had not two second-thoughts about paying $5 for a Miller Light, because trust me: my nerves at that point NEEDED IT!!! Yummiest beer I ever had, too… Sitting conspicuously on a United napkin with the slogan “Low Fares Guaranteed”… thinking of my overpriced beverage, that made me smile!
- In Frankfurt, I boarded yet another plane, to Bucharest; this was full of older American couples, that were flying to Romania to go on a cruise on the Danube. I love old people, generally, because they have such a peace about them, and they’re so funny! They’ve developed a humor that I can only dream of mustering one day! One of the jokes I heard that day, from them stuck in my head…Two older gentlemen were asking each other how long they’d been married: one said 40 years while the other 49; the one who said 49 told the one who said 40: “Yeah, trust me, the first 49 years are the hardest! (rolled his eyes). I should have shot her when I married her. I would have been out by now and it would have been the same thing!” – the whole bus that was taking us to the plane was on the floor, and I congratulated myself once more for my own thoughts on marriage… because, see, the voice of wisdom spoke and it agreed with me…
- We got to Bucharest safe and sound and one and a half hour late; not a problem, as long as the delay was not a day late, and as long as we were safe. Beers were free on Lufthansa, but it was way early in the morning and I was in a too good a mood now because my travel partners were so sweet and funny that I didn’t get one.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
On My Mind ...
.... purple tulip trees bursting with color and freshness, against crystal clear Carolina blue skies ... not wanting to go back to work after lunch breaks in the park ... dogs out for walks, eager to smell the wet, rotten leaves ... toddlers on a quilt in the park, having a picnic with their soccer mom ... lazy afternoons when the air is liquid honey: yellow and thick ...confused gazillions of bugs flying with no aim, dizzy from hibernation ...the birds, announcing to the world a new nest ... daffodils in the office in a dirty over-used vase so fresh! ... going home for Easter ... the Big Lent and the light weight of giving up meat ... Easter bunnies ... green beer ... lazy, snoozing weekend morning with bright sunlight peeking through the blinds, calling your name outside ... butterflies in the stomach before meeting someone new ... feeling 16 again?! ... new hope for the new year, fresh as the shy-green leaves of the trees ... connecting ... sushi ... reading a good book ... craving a better book ... Tracy Chapman ...purple ... pink... so much white ... blue ... green .... "April is the cruelest month" ... tax season ...new wardrobe and new heart .... new skies to fly to .... new blooms and leaves ... pink weeping willows, bowing to God, begging to touch the earth ... love ... out of breath with emotion ... dreamy eyes, imagining happier times to come ... opening the heart wide to the world, so afraid it shivers... Missing Maia and tasting tears ... smiles while reading e-mails from kindred souls - delicious! ... a new perfume ... a new friend ... a new kiss ... lips are tired and numb from waiting ... another new start ... the trees have gone crazy and opened their hearts to the world, vulnerable, in open scars of white and pink, bleeding life ... blizzard in Canada ... the sky is so clear it hurts the eyes to stare at the infinite - all frozen in a drop of the Now and Here ... all in one sigh and one breath ...
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Hungry for Far Away Places
Is it the spring?! Or is it my birthday?! Whatever it is, I get bitten by the travel bug every year, around this time, and I start planning for the road… After the hibernation of winter, I guess, I just feel like I am rusty and gotta move around… After the stagnant air of the winter, when all I did was gather moss from the cold and the rains, I get hungry for far away places to freshen up my eyes and my heart, and wash away the mold… It’s a return to my true nature, of a wanderer; it’s a return to our true nature of changing and moving… I read more travel magazines and sites now than ever in the year, and I dream… I dream big, and I dream far away…
I want my mom’s crepes in a sun-flooded Sunday kitchen and dad’s homemade pizza slices for brunch; I want to smell the freshly cut grass and gather it, and stack it in the pastures of the mountains of Bucovina; I want the taste of the first kiss after a hard day’s work at hay gathering, taste of wild strawberries and fresh spring waters… I want to go mountain climbing in search of mushrooms for dinner, and wild blueberries for dessert; I want to walk the streets of Iasi and eat funnel cake and laugh while flirting, and stop for coffee or a half liter bottle of beer; this time of the year, I smell the dirty Istanbul, a city with no public restrooms, that smells like an overflowing public restroom itself…; I want to climb the Pamukkale peak, and slide and fall behind, but still make it to the top, barefoot and wet from the thermal springs, but happy in the face of God’s miracle; I want to eat Turkish olives with every meal, and Turkish bread to go with them, and feel just…orgasmic pleasure…; it’s now that I start smelling the pot in Amsterdam’s bars, and eat the pizza in Vienna, and have some great, pure, smooth, light Austrian beer to wash it down with; I smell cow’s manure in the stables of Pojorata that I had to clean for years as a child; I dream of the one night stands without consequences, that I had when traveling in college, around Romania… the taste of the risk was so delicious! (I can’t say “sweet”, I hate “sweet(s)”); they tasted like freedom…
I miss roaming the streets of England, with the perfect curbs and the flawless asphalt (no potholes there!), the traffic on the wrong (yes! the “wrong”!!!) side of the street; the red brick houses everywhere, and the black iron gates of London; the polite English gentlemen who are still using “pardon me” to apologize for inadvertently stepping on your shoe while standing in “a queue”; the smell of the sea, at Margate; the stuffiness of the people of Cambridge and the openness of their “open” markets; I dream of burying my feet once again in the golden sands of the Bulgarian Varna; I even miss seeing the empty communist stores of Moldova, before the “Revolution”, empty and gray, and sad with the silence of the people bored. Everything I remember from my trips is so rich and I miss it so…I want to take it in all, at one time NOW!
I want to breathe fully the salty air of the Black Sea, and the dry hot air of the Turkish desert; the cold, humid and rainy air of the North Sea, the cold dry air of the Rockies, in January, so crisp, your nostrils bleed, the salty, stuffy and stinky air of the Atlantic on 4th of July in Charleston; the throw-up smell of New Orleans’s streets, and I want to hear the zydeco music hollering from the bars, while watching the kids dance in the streets, while I am getting a heavenly buzz form the “huge ass beers to go” offered in every street corner bar; I miss the stinky Boston seafood, so fresh and sea-stinking, your pee smells for days. I miss climbing at the top of the World Trade Center and feeling truly on top of the world, really feeling like I have, alas!, conquered my dream, of being an American.
But most of all, I miss the airports, and the planes, people watching, the sticky, sweaty feeling of being on the road for at least 24 hours, the crappy food, the espresso shots in the Amsterdam, Munich, Frankfurt, Vienna, Detroit, Newport, Chicago airports, and everywhere between home and … anywhere…
It’s food and smells and images of distant places that I don’t get to see everyday for me that I miss and long every year, around this time. And somehow, I know, each spring, that I will find the roads to take me back to these places, once again, or to open new doors towards new ones …
I am part Gypsy, and I know I will forever have the wanderer in me. I have a wandering heart and a wandering eye for sure … and I thank God for that! The minute I come home, I think of the next place to set off to… It’s a constant move, for me, just like life… And it’s freedom: nothing is stationary in this world, so should we be?! The settling is just temporary; being stuck is a temporary thing, just like the concept of “today”… Just like the river gets bigger with every drop of rain, so I get richer with every new trip I take. Fuller of life, experience, wisdom, acceptance, and love towards everything that moves and breathes and exists.
Yes, I get bitten by the travel bug, and a friendly bug it is. I guess it’s like the heroin needle (had I ever done it, I would know better…): gives you pleasure and pain, but more pleasure… :-) But unlike heroin, it doesn’t kill you, but it feeds you and enriches you, makes you grow and bloom, like the new flowers in the spring: makes you a new and whole person, once again.
This year, so far, I have these planned: Europe, Canada (new territory for me…), the beach, somewhere, and definitely some mountain trips…And the world was created infinite, so who knows what else…
I want my mom’s crepes in a sun-flooded Sunday kitchen and dad’s homemade pizza slices for brunch; I want to smell the freshly cut grass and gather it, and stack it in the pastures of the mountains of Bucovina; I want the taste of the first kiss after a hard day’s work at hay gathering, taste of wild strawberries and fresh spring waters… I want to go mountain climbing in search of mushrooms for dinner, and wild blueberries for dessert; I want to walk the streets of Iasi and eat funnel cake and laugh while flirting, and stop for coffee or a half liter bottle of beer; this time of the year, I smell the dirty Istanbul, a city with no public restrooms, that smells like an overflowing public restroom itself…; I want to climb the Pamukkale peak, and slide and fall behind, but still make it to the top, barefoot and wet from the thermal springs, but happy in the face of God’s miracle; I want to eat Turkish olives with every meal, and Turkish bread to go with them, and feel just…orgasmic pleasure…; it’s now that I start smelling the pot in Amsterdam’s bars, and eat the pizza in Vienna, and have some great, pure, smooth, light Austrian beer to wash it down with; I smell cow’s manure in the stables of Pojorata that I had to clean for years as a child; I dream of the one night stands without consequences, that I had when traveling in college, around Romania… the taste of the risk was so delicious! (I can’t say “sweet”, I hate “sweet(s)”); they tasted like freedom…
I miss roaming the streets of England, with the perfect curbs and the flawless asphalt (no potholes there!), the traffic on the wrong (yes! the “wrong”!!!) side of the street; the red brick houses everywhere, and the black iron gates of London; the polite English gentlemen who are still using “pardon me” to apologize for inadvertently stepping on your shoe while standing in “a queue”; the smell of the sea, at Margate; the stuffiness of the people of Cambridge and the openness of their “open” markets; I dream of burying my feet once again in the golden sands of the Bulgarian Varna; I even miss seeing the empty communist stores of Moldova, before the “Revolution”, empty and gray, and sad with the silence of the people bored. Everything I remember from my trips is so rich and I miss it so…I want to take it in all, at one time NOW!
I want to breathe fully the salty air of the Black Sea, and the dry hot air of the Turkish desert; the cold, humid and rainy air of the North Sea, the cold dry air of the Rockies, in January, so crisp, your nostrils bleed, the salty, stuffy and stinky air of the Atlantic on 4th of July in Charleston; the throw-up smell of New Orleans’s streets, and I want to hear the zydeco music hollering from the bars, while watching the kids dance in the streets, while I am getting a heavenly buzz form the “huge ass beers to go” offered in every street corner bar; I miss the stinky Boston seafood, so fresh and sea-stinking, your pee smells for days. I miss climbing at the top of the World Trade Center and feeling truly on top of the world, really feeling like I have, alas!, conquered my dream, of being an American.
But most of all, I miss the airports, and the planes, people watching, the sticky, sweaty feeling of being on the road for at least 24 hours, the crappy food, the espresso shots in the Amsterdam, Munich, Frankfurt, Vienna, Detroit, Newport, Chicago airports, and everywhere between home and … anywhere…
It’s food and smells and images of distant places that I don’t get to see everyday for me that I miss and long every year, around this time. And somehow, I know, each spring, that I will find the roads to take me back to these places, once again, or to open new doors towards new ones …
I am part Gypsy, and I know I will forever have the wanderer in me. I have a wandering heart and a wandering eye for sure … and I thank God for that! The minute I come home, I think of the next place to set off to… It’s a constant move, for me, just like life… And it’s freedom: nothing is stationary in this world, so should we be?! The settling is just temporary; being stuck is a temporary thing, just like the concept of “today”… Just like the river gets bigger with every drop of rain, so I get richer with every new trip I take. Fuller of life, experience, wisdom, acceptance, and love towards everything that moves and breathes and exists.
Yes, I get bitten by the travel bug, and a friendly bug it is. I guess it’s like the heroin needle (had I ever done it, I would know better…): gives you pleasure and pain, but more pleasure… :-) But unlike heroin, it doesn’t kill you, but it feeds you and enriches you, makes you grow and bloom, like the new flowers in the spring: makes you a new and whole person, once again.
This year, so far, I have these planned: Europe, Canada (new territory for me…), the beach, somewhere, and definitely some mountain trips…And the world was created infinite, so who knows what else…
Sunday, March 05, 2006
An A.D.D. World – or : An A.D.D. America, Revised
I have discovered that we cannot get frustrated or in the least bothered by the A.D.D. in our co-workers, partners, family folks, etc I believe we all are, to some extent, somewhat A.D.D. Think about it?! It's the society we live in that REQUIRES us to be that way: you hardly ever see a job ad in the paper that does not require us to be "multi-tasked". Well, you cannot be multi-tasked unless you're paying attention to 10 things at the same time: answer the phone, while reading a new e-mail, while opening the postal mail, while talking to your boss who's giving you yet a new task and all these have to be done efficiently and fast, so that we all can meet the deadlines! And it doesn't stop there: we drive home and the cell rings while we have to drive, and yield, and look for a jay-walker or another jackass driver who's cutting us off, and grab a snack from the purse since our blood sugar is low from spreading ourselves too thin in the first place, and we need an afternoon jumpstart, because we're driving to school, after a 10 hour work day! Then we get home, and we have to feed the pets, while opening the mail, and turning the TV on to see what else has been going on in the world, while the phone rings and it's our friend Alice who wants to go out for a drink tonight or maybe Saturday, and we're listening to the news while trying to figure out what in the world is on our calendars for Saturday anyways, while the cat decides to flip the water bowl and make a mess on the carpet, and oh, shit! we have a "sales" party tomorrow with a bunch of "fancy ladies" and the carpet is now wet and stained"Sorry Alice, let me call you right back"! It makes my head spin just to think about all this, although it's pretty much an accurate description of my (and many of the people's I know!) daily routine. And our brains get "trained" to constantly LOOK FOR the next thing to do. Never for the "what's here and now", but for "what else" I need to be doing to keep up...
The opposite of A.D.D. is focused, but you cannot be focused on ONE thing alone anymore: you would be stampeded on by the world, run over and left behind! The only way we can keep up, we think, is by rushing onto the next thing on the list while still doing the one before. I wonder sometimes where and if all this will stop one day?!
You know, Napoleon was so unique because him doing 5 things at one time was really a RARE, and indeed special talent: it's not customary for the human brain to function like that! (I am obviously not a doctor, but I don't think it is). By pushing our bodies in this manner, to make something so rare be part of our usual life, we're defying nature in the first place, and something, somewhere, is gotta snap! And therefore, we're all "diagnosed" nowadays! (man, wouldn't Freud be proud of me??!!). We should all be, anyways. Should we all be on Ritalin then?!
I go to Yoga class, and I lie in Savasana and the instructor says "let go" and you're supposed to LET THE HECK GO and just focus on breathing and just being and I am thinking: "Shit! Bills need to be paid tonight!" and "I haven't vacuumed since 2 weeks ago" and I hate myself right then and there. And yet I move on. Gotta catch up!
The only thing we don't do while doing other things that "have to" be done is relax, and breathe. We never think of that as a part of our "multi-tasking", and it's a shame. I read in one of my Yoga books one time, that "the giant turtle breathes 4 times a minute, and is calm, and lives many hundreds of years, whereas the dog and the monkey breathe 40-60 times a minute, and are restless and excitable and live 10-15 years only." It seems to me, we all have a lot to learn from the quiet and calm turtle. Don't you think?! Happy new week, everyone! And PLEASE, remember to breathe, amongst all the other things ...
The opposite of A.D.D. is focused, but you cannot be focused on ONE thing alone anymore: you would be stampeded on by the world, run over and left behind! The only way we can keep up, we think, is by rushing onto the next thing on the list while still doing the one before. I wonder sometimes where and if all this will stop one day?!
You know, Napoleon was so unique because him doing 5 things at one time was really a RARE, and indeed special talent: it's not customary for the human brain to function like that! (I am obviously not a doctor, but I don't think it is). By pushing our bodies in this manner, to make something so rare be part of our usual life, we're defying nature in the first place, and something, somewhere, is gotta snap! And therefore, we're all "diagnosed" nowadays! (man, wouldn't Freud be proud of me??!!). We should all be, anyways. Should we all be on Ritalin then?!
I go to Yoga class, and I lie in Savasana and the instructor says "let go" and you're supposed to LET THE HECK GO and just focus on breathing and just being and I am thinking: "Shit! Bills need to be paid tonight!" and "I haven't vacuumed since 2 weeks ago" and I hate myself right then and there. And yet I move on. Gotta catch up!
The only thing we don't do while doing other things that "have to" be done is relax, and breathe. We never think of that as a part of our "multi-tasking", and it's a shame. I read in one of my Yoga books one time, that "the giant turtle breathes 4 times a minute, and is calm, and lives many hundreds of years, whereas the dog and the monkey breathe 40-60 times a minute, and are restless and excitable and live 10-15 years only." It seems to me, we all have a lot to learn from the quiet and calm turtle. Don't you think?! Happy new week, everyone! And PLEASE, remember to breathe, amongst all the other things ...
Friday, March 03, 2006
The Taste of a Lonely Friday
You work overtime on a Friday, that’s when you know you have no life! Everyone’s going home, with plans, even the little ol’ lady who lives with her grandma, and you’re stuck at the office, entering data, because you were too busy answering requests all day… And you get an extra one hour of overtime at the office, ON A FRIDAY!!!! – that’s when you know you’re lonely. It can wait till Monday, but… you have nowhere better to go to, so you don’t mind staying over! In the process you run into problems, and you gotta call your co-workers for advice, and they’re out drinking at the bar, giving you instructions on how to fix stuff… They’re at the BAR!!! That’s how you know you’re lost! Un-redeemable!
You drive home and all the cars around you have one person in them. Just the driver. Of course, we ALL drive in America, but it’s Friday night, and people should have dates, family gatherings, birthday celebrations tonight, as a Friday… No, this particular Friday it’s all single person’s cars…And they all look either sad or indifferent. Staring at the road like into the hopelessness of single-hood: empty and bare, and scared; driving along… full of thought… And the music in the cd player even sounds empty, like it’s not playing for me, but just to fill the silence … It’s sad, in a way, too…
And you go shopping alone, and you come home alone, and the pets are so tired and bored, they find their own corner and want not to be touched. They’re lonely, too. It’s a Lonely Friday. Except for the fish! They’re crammed together in this small bowl! They HAVE to be “together”… They “socialize”, ‘cause they have to… Forced by the circumstances, they will NOT feel alone… So, there’s hope!
My dad always said: “Never drink alone. Call your neighbor for a glass of wine, just never drink alone”… Well, I am just doing that. And let me tell you, dad, you were right: a drink doesn’t taste good when you drink alone. It tastes bitter, just like loneliness… That’s what alone is: drinking alone on a Friday… and letting Aerosmith fill the silence. There is no tomorrow. There is only a very empty and lonely Friday Now…
And the cd is playing: “and we’re saying a prayer for the desperate hearts tonight”. I hope they are. I know that the desperate hearts need it. :-)
You drive home and all the cars around you have one person in them. Just the driver. Of course, we ALL drive in America, but it’s Friday night, and people should have dates, family gatherings, birthday celebrations tonight, as a Friday… No, this particular Friday it’s all single person’s cars…And they all look either sad or indifferent. Staring at the road like into the hopelessness of single-hood: empty and bare, and scared; driving along… full of thought… And the music in the cd player even sounds empty, like it’s not playing for me, but just to fill the silence … It’s sad, in a way, too…
And you go shopping alone, and you come home alone, and the pets are so tired and bored, they find their own corner and want not to be touched. They’re lonely, too. It’s a Lonely Friday. Except for the fish! They’re crammed together in this small bowl! They HAVE to be “together”… They “socialize”, ‘cause they have to… Forced by the circumstances, they will NOT feel alone… So, there’s hope!
My dad always said: “Never drink alone. Call your neighbor for a glass of wine, just never drink alone”… Well, I am just doing that. And let me tell you, dad, you were right: a drink doesn’t taste good when you drink alone. It tastes bitter, just like loneliness… That’s what alone is: drinking alone on a Friday… and letting Aerosmith fill the silence. There is no tomorrow. There is only a very empty and lonely Friday Now…
And the cd is playing: “and we’re saying a prayer for the desperate hearts tonight”. I hope they are. I know that the desperate hearts need it. :-)
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Valentines Day: Leave Hallmark Out of It!
One thing that still strikes me in America is how little her people know of her history and traditions; how ignorant they are about their own culture and their place in the world, as well. I think it’s my fault for being so nit-picky about this, because I come from a (very small) culture where history is valued and revered and it’s what makes us, as a small country, stand out in the world. I once had a professor (in Romania) say that yes indeed Americans are ignorant, and they don’t know their own geography and presidents, and political organizations, and all, they don’t know the history of America itself, past their photo albums, but when they drive their fast cars which they can afford to change every couple of years, and they live in their mansions on the lakes and oceans, when they have all their needs met at the snap of their fingers, they couldn’t care less who was the first president or the last for that matter; or what continent Romania is on. And he was probably right.
What I don’t like about this whole thing is the vehemence with which they profess their (wrong) knowledge of things; their self-assuredness, and the lack of interest in knowing better and in finding out what the truth really is. God forbid you (who are right) tell them different, you’re head is gone! They’re Americans, by God, biggest power of the world, in every sense of the word, how dare you?! Of course they are right.
The last thing that set me off was how everyone, across the board blames Hallmark for the "cheesiness" of Valentines Day, and calls it, again, across the board, a "Hallmark-invented holiday". Every year, around this time, I hear at least half of a dozen people say the exact same words and it just eats at me!!! And I have good reason why, trust me!
Let me explain:
We don't celebrate Valentines Day in Romania, for the simple fact that Valentine is a Catholic saint, and in Romania probably 90% the population is Eastern Orthodox. So, for 23 years I never celebrated it. The first time I learned about Valentines Day was probably in 6th grade (or maybe 7th?!), but it was NOT from an American, or an American-related occurrence: back then, I was falling in love with Thomas Hardy's novels: I was reading "Far From the Madding Crowd", and in the opening chapters of that book, the female heroine, Bathsheba Everdene, impulsively sends Farmer Boldwood a valentine sealed with the words "Marry Me". And that's when I looked up the word "valentine" and found out about the whole Valentines Day tradition on February 14th of every year. Hardy's book was written around 1874, and Hardy, for those who don't know is an English Victorian writer, who lived between 1840 and 1928. Now, back to America, the Hallmark founder, Joyce Clyde Hall, was born in David City, Nebraska in 1891. That is 17 years AFTER the aforementioned book was already on the shelves of Europe. Now, unless history is wrong, as you can see, he was not able to be of any blame at least regarding the "invention" of this holiday. Want more history? Here 'tis:
- if you want the whole legend (or legends as they are many) of how Valentines Day came about, visit the History Channel online and they will explain to you what you need to know (not what you want to know, which may be two different things); I got the link right here: http://www.historychannel.com/exhibits/valentine/?page=history ; but just to give you an idea : the February the 14th celebration points back to events that occurred during the 3rd century in Rome, more exactly the year 270. That is, as you can see, long before America even dreamed of being discovered.
- Also, according to the History Channel, Catholics started celebrating this feast on the very same date mentioned above, which has been kept to this day, around 498 AD, when Pope Gelasius said it's OK; again, that is LONG before poor ol' Joyce Clyde Hall of David City, Nebraska existed.
- And as I have mentioned, at least Hardy knew about it, in 1874 when he wrote his novel, well before Hallmark as well (Hall started this wholesale postcard business around 1910).
At any rate, after digging into a little bit of history like this, I felt it was right to exonerate the poor Hallmark name at least from this one wrongful accusation. The fact that Valentines Day today remains 'cheesy' is not to be contested however, but coming from the old world, let me tell you: "we the people" made ALL of our holidays cheesy! Look at Christmas! Look at the way we celebrate Easter! Now, tell me, what does the birth of Jesus in a poor, cold and dirty stable, a long, long time ago have to do with the insanity of gift-giving in our country ?? What does Jesus have to do with buying a new vehicle and a new motorcycle and 1000 pairs of socks, and ties and shirts and panties?! Don't give me the "spirit of Christmas" crap, because the spirit is Christmas is not, and should not, be maxing out your credit cards and paying interests to all the creditors known to man until you die and then some! That is NOT the spirit of Christmas. How cheesy is that?!? Are we blaming Hallmark for that too? What about Easter? Now tell me, what does dying on the Cross in horrible torture, and the Resurrection of Christ have to do with hiding plastic pastel colored eggs in the grass?? What do pastel colors (which are unnatural, lab made colors that you can never find in natural state, a fairly modern invention of ours) have to do with something that happened almost 2000 years ago?! Tell me what jelly beans and awful sugary peeps have to do with all that?! Hallmark again?! It's US who have and make a choice, not Hallmark.
I guess what we need to do rather, is reflect upon us, and what our choices are. "We, the people" are keeping these folks in business and altering tradition and passing on mutilated history. We try to embellish it and make it "fun", when the truth of the matter is: we have a moral duty to our future generations to pass on what the truth is, and the truth is not, in my opinion, in flooding your floor with presents on Christmas, and your yard with plastic eggs for Easter, or gaining 4 pounds from boxed chocolates on Valentines Day. I think the truth is much richer and deeper than all that and what the children of tomorrow need is to learn the naked, raw, albeit "un-fun" truth. Not the fads, which are here today, and may be gone tomorrow. And it's OUR responsibility to distinguish between the "cheese" and the history, and to teach them better. And it's ultimately OUR "cheese". So, don't blame Hallmark, or WalMart, or Target! They're here just to scratch OUR itches!
What I don’t like about this whole thing is the vehemence with which they profess their (wrong) knowledge of things; their self-assuredness, and the lack of interest in knowing better and in finding out what the truth really is. God forbid you (who are right) tell them different, you’re head is gone! They’re Americans, by God, biggest power of the world, in every sense of the word, how dare you?! Of course they are right.
The last thing that set me off was how everyone, across the board blames Hallmark for the "cheesiness" of Valentines Day, and calls it, again, across the board, a "Hallmark-invented holiday". Every year, around this time, I hear at least half of a dozen people say the exact same words and it just eats at me!!! And I have good reason why, trust me!
Let me explain:
We don't celebrate Valentines Day in Romania, for the simple fact that Valentine is a Catholic saint, and in Romania probably 90% the population is Eastern Orthodox. So, for 23 years I never celebrated it. The first time I learned about Valentines Day was probably in 6th grade (or maybe 7th?!), but it was NOT from an American, or an American-related occurrence: back then, I was falling in love with Thomas Hardy's novels: I was reading "Far From the Madding Crowd", and in the opening chapters of that book, the female heroine, Bathsheba Everdene, impulsively sends Farmer Boldwood a valentine sealed with the words "Marry Me". And that's when I looked up the word "valentine" and found out about the whole Valentines Day tradition on February 14th of every year. Hardy's book was written around 1874, and Hardy, for those who don't know is an English Victorian writer, who lived between 1840 and 1928. Now, back to America, the Hallmark founder, Joyce Clyde Hall, was born in David City, Nebraska in 1891. That is 17 years AFTER the aforementioned book was already on the shelves of Europe. Now, unless history is wrong, as you can see, he was not able to be of any blame at least regarding the "invention" of this holiday. Want more history? Here 'tis:
- if you want the whole legend (or legends as they are many) of how Valentines Day came about, visit the History Channel online and they will explain to you what you need to know (not what you want to know, which may be two different things); I got the link right here: http://www.historychannel.com/exhibits/valentine/?page=history ; but just to give you an idea : the February the 14th celebration points back to events that occurred during the 3rd century in Rome, more exactly the year 270. That is, as you can see, long before America even dreamed of being discovered.
- Also, according to the History Channel, Catholics started celebrating this feast on the very same date mentioned above, which has been kept to this day, around 498 AD, when Pope Gelasius said it's OK; again, that is LONG before poor ol' Joyce Clyde Hall of David City, Nebraska existed.
- And as I have mentioned, at least Hardy knew about it, in 1874 when he wrote his novel, well before Hallmark as well (Hall started this wholesale postcard business around 1910).
At any rate, after digging into a little bit of history like this, I felt it was right to exonerate the poor Hallmark name at least from this one wrongful accusation. The fact that Valentines Day today remains 'cheesy' is not to be contested however, but coming from the old world, let me tell you: "we the people" made ALL of our holidays cheesy! Look at Christmas! Look at the way we celebrate Easter! Now, tell me, what does the birth of Jesus in a poor, cold and dirty stable, a long, long time ago have to do with the insanity of gift-giving in our country ?? What does Jesus have to do with buying a new vehicle and a new motorcycle and 1000 pairs of socks, and ties and shirts and panties?! Don't give me the "spirit of Christmas" crap, because the spirit is Christmas is not, and should not, be maxing out your credit cards and paying interests to all the creditors known to man until you die and then some! That is NOT the spirit of Christmas. How cheesy is that?!? Are we blaming Hallmark for that too? What about Easter? Now tell me, what does dying on the Cross in horrible torture, and the Resurrection of Christ have to do with hiding plastic pastel colored eggs in the grass?? What do pastel colors (which are unnatural, lab made colors that you can never find in natural state, a fairly modern invention of ours) have to do with something that happened almost 2000 years ago?! Tell me what jelly beans and awful sugary peeps have to do with all that?! Hallmark again?! It's US who have and make a choice, not Hallmark.
I guess what we need to do rather, is reflect upon us, and what our choices are. "We, the people" are keeping these folks in business and altering tradition and passing on mutilated history. We try to embellish it and make it "fun", when the truth of the matter is: we have a moral duty to our future generations to pass on what the truth is, and the truth is not, in my opinion, in flooding your floor with presents on Christmas, and your yard with plastic eggs for Easter, or gaining 4 pounds from boxed chocolates on Valentines Day. I think the truth is much richer and deeper than all that and what the children of tomorrow need is to learn the naked, raw, albeit "un-fun" truth. Not the fads, which are here today, and may be gone tomorrow. And it's OUR responsibility to distinguish between the "cheese" and the history, and to teach them better. And it's ultimately OUR "cheese". So, don't blame Hallmark, or WalMart, or Target! They're here just to scratch OUR itches!
Saturday, February 18, 2006
The New Addiction
It’s a “brave new world” this MySpace world, I tell you. And BRAVE it is! You can see things, and do things, and ask things, and show things that would otherwise be forever hidden and lost in the deep and dark barrel of the human subconscious. It is a peek through the dark curtain of our daily lives; it is an escape from our boring, no-time-for-anything-fun, overworked, under-vacationed lives and a chance to be risqué and dangerous at the same time, with virtually no consequences.
Sure, there are “decent” things/people on MySpace, like music exchanges and interesting conversations, talks about sports and books, and honest people who want to JUST be your friend or talk about their kids, their parents or pets… Sure there are… Just like any other society, there is always a dignified and honorable minority. There surely is. :-)
But in all its vastness, MySpace is much, so much more colorful than just that!
Where else can you break the ice between two complete strangers with “ hey, hon’, you think I’m bangable?”? (well, at least you try to break it; but if you “hit” the wrong person, then the ice is forever!). Try that as your new pick up line at the bar, see what happens! Where can you just look at pictures of naked bottoms (and I am not talking Victoria’s Secret naked!), see hard-on’s “the size of Florida” (a movie quote) just about around the clock? Where else can you get away with saying to someone “wanna f&^k?” for a conversation starter, after dinner or first thing in the morning, on an empty stomach for that matter?! Try that on your first date at the movies, and see how fast your head will spin! It even teaches us new phrases (or maybe this is just me living a sheltered life for a long time), like “hit me up”, or “got digits?”.
It satisfies the voyeur in all of us, and feeds the pervert. It puts smiles on our faces that we can so see that we are so much better off than others! It gives us the long awaited pat on the back, that we never get from our parents, bosses, spouse, or even LIFE, in general…
When we get depressed about our OK life of making less money than what we are worth, of being loaned out on a car, house, and computer payment, and of having the “being 30 and old” blues or being single, we turn to MySpace to feel better. And we do feel better when we read that some of “our friends” (or potential ones, that BEG us to be their friends daily) live in a low income part of town, with 15 smelly cats and a drunk boyfriend whose idea of productivity is walking up to the corner and buying yet another bag of weed when the bank charges them for $350 for bounced checks and the rent is 2 months past due, and they look like a stripper after a hard day, but they still have the strength (it must be strength!!) to call themselves “Ms. Independent”, or “Ms. Perfect” for the “screen name”! We feel proud reading Coelho and Frank McCourt, and Salinger, when others cannot spell the word “heard” or even “are” and cannot construct the simplest of sentences … Our lives are so much better now! Oh, yes indeed. We, unlike others, are headed somewhere. We might be old, and single, and lonely, but not that far off as most of our peers! We feel special.
And there is no bloody discrimination here, either… No such thing as “the house is full, you’re out”, no “A-list” bull crap, no “this party ain’t for you!” mumbo-jumbo, no American Idol and Survivor gruesome auditions… Not at all!. We ALL get to experience these stories, and pictures and lives of people as diverse as the leaves in a forest! Even if physically we are no richer in friends, nor close acquaintances, have no prospects of friends because we’re too paranoid to meet them, or simply too busy to make the time (and I am seriously starting to doubt if at least ONE person here can make a really good friend indeed out of this mess), we have at least the consolation that we can ALL be part of this Babel Tower, and can see into ALL these lives, we ALL have these enlightening happy moments right from our computer screen. And thus our lives have been changed one more time with a new fad… We sign up and that’s all we need … to have a friend, or 1000, or to be a star for that matter. We get compliments, and pass compliments, we wish happy birthday and happy valentines day and whatever else is going on that day to people we’ve never met, and probably never will…
All of a sudden, our lives get new routines and are changed forever: we’re all addicts for the daily MySpace fix: we get to work, we check “our space”; we leave work, we need some good juicy story to mull over on the ride home, and CNN and the local news site is SO overrated; we’re all hungry for the “real stuff”; we check “our space” before we leave; and we get home 20 minutes later, and we gotta see who else popped up on “our space”, what kind of freak is e-mailing us now, what kind of wacko wants to be our friend again, or what other survey is there to fill out. The blood needs it, and the brain needs it, and we make sure, loyal, pitiful addicts as we are to ourselves always, that we feed that need!
I guess we’re all slaves of our times: if it’s not books, or papers and magazines, it’s the radio or the tv, or the sitcoms, or the reality shows. Now, we’re a step up (wait a minute: maybe a step DOWN??!!) from Reality TV because we ALL can be stars! We all can get hitched here, in some sort of debasing way, we all can talk dirty and have at least cyber sex till the cows come home! We can all be on Oprah and Jerry Springer and the newscast all in one spot here. We are the actors, and the directors, and the spectators all in one. And there is no silly law to protect our oh so young and innocent eyes from a nipple, either! We get the full fledged instant gratification for free. We just can’t win a million dollars … yet! But other than that, Reality TV, move over! MySpace is here!!! And trust me: people dig it!
Sure, there are “decent” things/people on MySpace, like music exchanges and interesting conversations, talks about sports and books, and honest people who want to JUST be your friend or talk about their kids, their parents or pets… Sure there are… Just like any other society, there is always a dignified and honorable minority. There surely is. :-)
But in all its vastness, MySpace is much, so much more colorful than just that!
Where else can you break the ice between two complete strangers with “ hey, hon’, you think I’m bangable?”? (well, at least you try to break it; but if you “hit” the wrong person, then the ice is forever!). Try that as your new pick up line at the bar, see what happens! Where can you just look at pictures of naked bottoms (and I am not talking Victoria’s Secret naked!), see hard-on’s “the size of Florida” (a movie quote) just about around the clock? Where else can you get away with saying to someone “wanna f&^k?” for a conversation starter, after dinner or first thing in the morning, on an empty stomach for that matter?! Try that on your first date at the movies, and see how fast your head will spin! It even teaches us new phrases (or maybe this is just me living a sheltered life for a long time), like “hit me up”, or “got digits?”.
It satisfies the voyeur in all of us, and feeds the pervert. It puts smiles on our faces that we can so see that we are so much better off than others! It gives us the long awaited pat on the back, that we never get from our parents, bosses, spouse, or even LIFE, in general…
When we get depressed about our OK life of making less money than what we are worth, of being loaned out on a car, house, and computer payment, and of having the “being 30 and old” blues or being single, we turn to MySpace to feel better. And we do feel better when we read that some of “our friends” (or potential ones, that BEG us to be their friends daily) live in a low income part of town, with 15 smelly cats and a drunk boyfriend whose idea of productivity is walking up to the corner and buying yet another bag of weed when the bank charges them for $350 for bounced checks and the rent is 2 months past due, and they look like a stripper after a hard day, but they still have the strength (it must be strength!!) to call themselves “Ms. Independent”, or “Ms. Perfect” for the “screen name”! We feel proud reading Coelho and Frank McCourt, and Salinger, when others cannot spell the word “heard” or even “are” and cannot construct the simplest of sentences … Our lives are so much better now! Oh, yes indeed. We, unlike others, are headed somewhere. We might be old, and single, and lonely, but not that far off as most of our peers! We feel special.
And there is no bloody discrimination here, either… No such thing as “the house is full, you’re out”, no “A-list” bull crap, no “this party ain’t for you!” mumbo-jumbo, no American Idol and Survivor gruesome auditions… Not at all!. We ALL get to experience these stories, and pictures and lives of people as diverse as the leaves in a forest! Even if physically we are no richer in friends, nor close acquaintances, have no prospects of friends because we’re too paranoid to meet them, or simply too busy to make the time (and I am seriously starting to doubt if at least ONE person here can make a really good friend indeed out of this mess), we have at least the consolation that we can ALL be part of this Babel Tower, and can see into ALL these lives, we ALL have these enlightening happy moments right from our computer screen. And thus our lives have been changed one more time with a new fad… We sign up and that’s all we need … to have a friend, or 1000, or to be a star for that matter. We get compliments, and pass compliments, we wish happy birthday and happy valentines day and whatever else is going on that day to people we’ve never met, and probably never will…
All of a sudden, our lives get new routines and are changed forever: we’re all addicts for the daily MySpace fix: we get to work, we check “our space”; we leave work, we need some good juicy story to mull over on the ride home, and CNN and the local news site is SO overrated; we’re all hungry for the “real stuff”; we check “our space” before we leave; and we get home 20 minutes later, and we gotta see who else popped up on “our space”, what kind of freak is e-mailing us now, what kind of wacko wants to be our friend again, or what other survey is there to fill out. The blood needs it, and the brain needs it, and we make sure, loyal, pitiful addicts as we are to ourselves always, that we feed that need!
I guess we’re all slaves of our times: if it’s not books, or papers and magazines, it’s the radio or the tv, or the sitcoms, or the reality shows. Now, we’re a step up (wait a minute: maybe a step DOWN??!!) from Reality TV because we ALL can be stars! We all can get hitched here, in some sort of debasing way, we all can talk dirty and have at least cyber sex till the cows come home! We can all be on Oprah and Jerry Springer and the newscast all in one spot here. We are the actors, and the directors, and the spectators all in one. And there is no silly law to protect our oh so young and innocent eyes from a nipple, either! We get the full fledged instant gratification for free. We just can’t win a million dollars … yet! But other than that, Reality TV, move over! MySpace is here!!! And trust me: people dig it!
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Tag-wonder?!
Driving down the road the other day, I read on a personalized tag, “GOD IS 4”. And sitting there, in my little Japanese car, I am trying to figure out what in the world that might mean? Or spell? “God is NOT 4” – I tell myself; I kept learning in church that “God is 3”!!! The Father, the Son and the Holly Spirit, right?! … So, He’s NOT 4!… Then I am telling myself: OK, go back to geography: think where you are: think America, think South, and figure it out, girl! Is He “FOR war”? “FOR life”? “FOR Peace”? “FOR … what the heck”?!? I still have not figured it out and I am still looking. It will bug me forever, and I keep thinking, probably all the people around me know the answer, of course… But to me, it’s one of these “cultural mysteries” that will never be found, maybe… Or if it will, it will be first laughed at… maybe… But it's one of those mysteries that make my life as a foreign transplant so wonderful: there will always have to be a splash of not-knowing and wondering for me to live this life to the fullest in this world. Always a little part of my curiosity ... un-satisfied. And that is quite OK. Just like an utterly divinely delicious food, that will always have ONE last ingredient you cannot guess!
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