Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Cum va place


Am avut o saptamana foarte buna saptamana trecuta. Luni am iesit la o bere cu o colega de la Budapesta si chelnerii jucau fotbal pe sub mese. Marti m-a scos un prieten cu japca din casa si ne-am plimbat prin parc si am invatat sa rad de mine din cand in cand. Miercuri am mers la concertul de folk de la Casa de Cultura a Studentilor si am ras cu niste prichindei care aplaudau de zor si cu Olarasu, bineinteles. Joi am fost la o vanatoare de comori cu mah babe si cred ca imi place sa nu fie tot timpul vorba despre mine. Vineri m-am jucat cu o pisicuta dracoasa si am adormit-o nitel. Sambata am fost la un spectacol de dans medieval si m-am tot chinuit sa fac macar o fotografie decenta. Iar duminica am sarbatorit ziua de nastere a bunicului meu, care a implinit 80 de primaveri, la masa cu inca vreo cincisprezece persoane. Dar saptamana asta, desi cu putin ajutor de la prietenii mei, m-a invins deja plimbatul de la un oficiu la altul si cheltuitul ultimilor mei bani, tinuti pentru tiff, pe refacerea dosarului pentru carnetul de sofer. Dom'le, eu nu sunt fata care sa vrea masina. Nu m-a incantat niciodata reteta aia cu apartament, sot si masina. Poate ca eu vreau pisica si un rucsac vesnic gata sa fie umplut. Sau o gradina de flori si tomate. Nu stiu. Am atins un nivel interesant de intuitie si liniste sufleteasca saptamana trecuta. Si incep deja sa simt cum se naruie. O sa o iau incet. Ma duc la plimbare. Sa-mi iau o revista glossy si niste cirese.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Vanare de vant


Marsul pentru normalitate e o mare prostie. Cand vad oameni cu icoane pe strada care vin si-ti spun ca Dumnezeu vrea asta si aia imi vine sa-i iau la palme. Daca oamenii au intr-adevar nevoie sa fie spirituali ar face bine sa inceapa sa creada in binele din oameni. Now that's something to believe in. Sa credem ca oamenii sunt fundamental buni, ca ceea ce e diferit nu e gresit. Sa credem ca pana si oamenii care le fac rau celorlalti cu premeditare sunt in cautarea dragostei si a fericirii si au dreptul sa spere. Sa iubim oamenii atat de mult incat sa ii lasam liberi. Liberi de prejudecatile noastre, liberi sa isi urmeze visele, liberi sa aleaga. Sa avem un instinct sufocant de a avea grija de altii, sa ni se rupa inima de mila si sa ne creasca atunci cand ceilalti sunt fericiti. Asta inseamna sa fii cu Dumnezeu. Eu nu cred in oamenii care isi justifica intoleranta cu constiinta religioasa. Dar in acelasi timp, n-au decat. Stiu cateva lucruri despre mine. Stiu ca sunt slaba si ma doare sa imi supun convingerile la dezbateri. Dar mai stiu si ca imi vine greu sa tac. Eu sunt pro-choice si pentru drepturile civile ale LGBT si impotriva pedepsei cu moartea. Cred ca fiecare dintre noi ia la un moment dat in viata o pozitie. Uneori as vrea chiar sa fiu activist. M-as duce la strans de gunoaie pe munte, la fundraising pentru aziluri de batrani, la construit de case si adaposturi si sper ca in curand viata mea va intra intr-o linie care sa-mi permita sa traiesc in conformitate cu lucrurile in care cred. Nu ma incanta cu nimic faptul ca inghitim aberatii neoliberale fara sa comentam la cursuri, si nici ca imi fac cumparaturile uneori la supermarketuri a caror responsabilitate corporativa e indoielnica. Dar sunt slaba si cedez presiunilor. Uneori prefer sa merg unde e mai ieftin ca sa mananc cat de cat fara sa cer bani in plus parintilor mei, chiar daca as vrea sa merg in pietele unde vin tarani (nu pot si pentru ca nu vorbesc maghiara). Uneori as vrea sa ma bat in continuare la cursuri cu morile de vant si sa le vorbesc oamenilor despre efectele negative ale cresterii, despre comunitate in loc de globalizare si alte nebunii. Dar sunt slaba. Si asta nu e o scuza, dar nu am fost niciodata inclinata spre extreme. Asa ca prefer sa fac lucrurile in felul meu. Sa traiesc eu asa cum imi dicteaza inima si sa nu le cer acelasi lucru si altora. Sa ascult cu ambele urechi si sa gandesc pentru mine.

N-ai nevoie de foarte multe



In mod ciudat, desi toate se ard, se sparg, se strica pe aici, sunt mai senina decat cerul de afara. Incep sa rad de mine si de cat de absurda sunt uneori in furia mea. Am loc langa mine pentru toti cei care se apropie sa schimbe o vorba. Nu am nevoie sa ma prefac iarasi ca as fi nimic din ceea ce nu sunt. Cand m-am oprit ca sa vad toate lucrurile minunate din jur, am ramas uimita de linistea dinauntru. Da, da, e aiurea. Nici eu nu m-am trezit bine inca.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Inapoi in groapa cu nisip


Poate ca e un test. Poate ca trebuie sa-mi confrunt fantomele una cate una. Sa invat sa nu mai iau toate lucrurile in serios, sa rad din cand in cand cu si de mine. Poate ca trebuie sa ma desprind de vise si sa inteleg care e diferenta. Era atat de bine atunci cand visam chestii atat de trase de coada, incat nu aveau nici o sansa sa se intample. Inventam eu personajele, ca sa nu-mi creez asteptari de la cele reale. Am incalcat de cateva ori acea limita. Si uite unde am ajuns. Sa ma port ca o pubera pe strada, sa adun in mine atat de multa furie cand atinsesem o liniste profunda. Daca nu iei lucrurile in serios, nu esti ranit, iar daca nu esti ranit, tu esti cel care se distreaza de fiecare data. Cei mai misto oameni pe care ii cunosc nu s-au intrebat toata ziua ce vor crede altii despre ei si nici ce vor face la anul. Nu au lasat frica sa le conduca viata. M-am saturat sa tot filosofez. Dar nici nu vreau sa tin un jurnal de clasa a cincea. "Draga jurnalule, azi l-am vazut pe Gigel. Cred ca ii place de mine, dar e timid. Sper ca intr-o zi o sa-mi ceara prietenia printr-un biletel." Din cauza ca nu ne amintim, probabil, avem noi femeile tendinta sa facem aceleasi greseli. Sa fim la fel de naive si la menopauza. Sa le cautam scuze in loc sa ne luam jucariile sa plecam. Lumea e foarte foarte mare si sigur sunt si altii carora le place sa se joace. Dar de multe ori stam ca proastele in groapa cu nisip si altii ne fura lopatica si ne mai si dau cu ea in cap. Si noi ne gandim ca fac asta pentru ca le place de noi.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Dor de carti


"Era fundamental si instinctiv, tinea de esenta feminitatii sa doresti sa tamaduiesti oameni - sa linistesti dorinta unui barbat cu o cataplasma de carne docila, sa-i oferi spiritului sau inchistat exaltarea de a contempla o vrajitoare care se despuie de vesminte si se urca la ceruri intr-o camera de hotel urat mobilata."
"Spiritul are nevoie de nebunie la fel cum trupul are nevoie de hrana."

Random, summerish


Uuuu! Nu-mi este cu nimic mai putin lene acasa decat imi era in Budapesta. Pe masura ce vorbesc mai mult romana, ma simt mai confortabil sa si scriu. Ceea ce-mi place cel mai mult e ca pot sa-i fac mamei capul calendar cu povestile mele. Chestie pe care am tendinta sa o fac atunci cand petrec prea mult timp singura. Daca se intampla sa imi pice in gheare cate un amic, ma simt putin stanjenita si incerc sa vorbesc mai putin, pentru ca de oprit oricum nu ma pot opri. Dar mama nu poate sa ma iubeasca mai putin doar pentru ca nu-mi tace gura, asa ca e obiectul preferat de tortura.
Habar n-am cu ce vreau sa incep. Ar trebui probabil sa umplu peretele din fata biroului de post-it-uri ca sa nu uit ceva, dar deja stau sa se prabuseasca afisele si deci mai bine nu. Ma intreb ce am facut eu cu posterul de la TIFF. Si cat de curand apar cele noi, sa mai fur unul. Daca nu sunt furate, nu are nici un farmec. Am doar doua primite. Unul cu Atacul Clonelor. Uuuu! Ar trebui sa fac un maraton Star Wars cat de curand. Cu ice tea si chipsuri din productia locala. Asa, si unul cu Axel. E exact unde trebuie ca sa-l vad dimineata cand ma trezesc. Oriunde ma voi muta, Axel vine cu mine. Restul sunt furate. Am unul de la Gothika ascuns dupa biblioteca, nu mi-a placut deloc filmul, l-am furat doar pentru ca-mi placea nuanta de albastru. Am unul de la un concert Kumm din Pub, si asta e ascuns de birou. Daca stau sa ma gandesc mai bine, trebuia sa fie sus undeva, it's pretty cool. Cred ca e ispravit de Tara, dar nu sunt sigura, nu se vede de aici. Mai am de la Sighisoara, cel pe care s-a trzit Weasel sa scrie "Decapitari in direct" si "Lezbos Erotikus", am de la o expozitie organizata de British Council, de la 7Up (Cand vezi rosu inaintea ochilor, asteapta sa apara verde si treci), de la Trooper, Ada Milea, spectacole de teatru sau campanii sociale. Si majoritatea ma enerveaza la culme acum. Ai me promit ca le pot lua jos cand vor zugravi. Presimt ca asta nu se intampla inainte ca eu sa ma mut de aici. Am si un afis de suflet. Banuiesc ca e o copie xerox, dar mi-e drag pentru ca e un spectacol la care am fost, al unui prieten foarte drag, as spune sufletul meu pereche, dar poate s-ar supara pe mine. Poate sunt eu prea deschisa sa cred ca poti iubi pe cineva chiar daca nu au ramas multe de impartit si nici nu e nevoie sa fie.
Mi-e dor de vremea cand totul era nou si fascinant, cand eram convinsa ca nu vor fi niciodata urme de regret. Nu ma gandeam niciodata ca lucruri marunte ca orgoliul sau reputatia m-ar face sa ma gandesc de doua ori inainte sa iau ceva care imi place. Sa intind mana si sa iau, si daca ma murdaresc, ce? Pacatele se spala si mergem mai departe. Zorba zicea el bine ce zicea. "E-o taina muierea, jupane! Poate sa pice de-o mie de ori, de-o mie de ori se va ridica de jos fecioara. (...) Pentru ca nu-si aminteste."
Mi-e foame sa citesc, mi-e foame sa scriu. Am obosit de atata lectura serioasa, vreau sa fiu pacalita, facuta sa rad, sa astept urmatoarea pagina cu sufletul la gura. Vreau sa stau pe varf de munte si sa scriu prostiile care-mi trec prin cap, oricat de siropoase imi par mai tarziu, fara groaza de public, fara presiunea secretului. Ma vreau inapoi fara griji pentru viitor, fara morala, fara smerenie. De data asta nu mai vreau sa-mi pese. Zicea astazi o gagica in Miami Ink despre cum vrea ea sa abordeze viata. Atunci cand se face instructia pentru masuri de siguranta in avion, se spune pasagerilor ca atunci cand masca de oxigen cade, sa si-o puna lor insisi mai intai. Pentru ca nu poti avea grija de altii daca nu ai grija de tine mai intai. Stiu cum sa ma fac fericita, trebuie doar sa-mi dau voie.

Friday, May 15, 2009

17 again


I just watched the movie and in a very silly way it got to me. It's more about getting me to think about being 17. I was actually nostalgic earlier today and it makes me sad that I don't remember much and I stopped writing frequently in my diary right about that time. I remember we were hungry for freedom. I remember jokes and parties. Oh, if I stop to think, lots of things come back to me, especially related to the people in my life. My babe lived a great love story during that summer. I had a nice boyfriend who broke up with me because I didn't want to commit (lol). Then I almost got into an alcoholic coma, the two events being unrelated. My friends stood by me all night. In august we all went up to the mountains together and at night everybody had a different kind of paranoia. In autumn we were partying in Hard and singing in the cemetery (probably this post won't make it here for more than a week). It was the season of the 18th birthdays and we had so much fun together. Dancing at every party, we didn't let them close one time. In December I hooked up with my high school sweetheart. I was so in love I didn't need food or sleep or air. I was always scared it's too good to be true. Turns out it was. I'm going on 23 and that's my damn scary age. I look in the mirror and I'm scared. Although I bet my skin and hair look better than then, I feel I'm drying up, it's like every minute now I'm going to be 50 wondering where it all went. My brother was not even in school yet then. I didn't have money for pretty clothes, and that made me feel less than sometimes, or money for a camera, although I was taking a photography class. I had never been out of the country and I had no idea that when the real reasons to cry come along, I'd be out of tears. I would cry out of anything, I was such a sissy. Most of the friends I had then are still here. If I could do it all over again, I'd do the exact same things. I might be scared of where I am right now, but I like where it got me.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

I killed the prom queen*


OMG, this spring ball is probably my last dance while in school. I didn't go to the banquet last year, when I graduated, so I figure once in four years I can wear an inappropriate dress and try hard not to get drunk because I'm on high heels. When I was 15, I had a too tight dress and I was crying on a swing. When I was 19, the dress was too short and I was continuously on the phone. This time I fear the cleavage is quite too much, but, oh, well, at least the dress is comfortable and long enough. The heels will probably kill me, but I'm training for a wedding anyway. I don't have a partner and I feel there is no need for one. This is CEE, single women are as common as corruption. There is no stigma associated to showing up all by yourself. I generally dislike having a plus one at parties. They make me think I'm more wild that I actually am.
Today, when I was going to see my internship coordinator, I was thinking about how we can be happy anywhere. There will always be something to complain about if we can't enjoy what's around. I read somewhere that Bob Marley said something like "love the life you live, live the life you love." And I've always thought that the first one should come, well, first. When you start getting the best of what you've got, you can turn it into what you've always wanted it to be. But if you always believe it's not worth to try, you'll keep on being miserable. Change is not built on air.
Then I got really down, I realized I'm such a lazy bone, skipping on my huge load of work. I was bashing myself about how I disappoint people and how being good is not enough, when you're not the best. But looking at it a little from the outside, I see that we are our worst critics. We don't like people because we assume they don't like us. We don't do things because we assume we can't do it. Well, another thing I read somewhere is that life is not about finding, but about inventing ourselves. We should allow ourselves to be at peace from time to time.

*It's actually the name of a band, as I happened to notice just now. They play some metalcore and i must say it's really catchy. I can't decide if I love it or hate it. Which is a good sign.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Our last summer


Oh, I'm so so whiny all the time. Thing is I feel brain dead. Not just because it's morning. I was just thinking and realized I don't remember the last few summers except from photographs and small things. I used to have an amazing memory when it came to the good times and the loved ones. I knew every detail, I held on to every tiny souvenir. But now it's empty. I try and try and all I have coming back to me is rage and some sort of dryness in my mouth. I used to think I never hurt. I was sure there were no regrets in my heart. I guess a young soul has an infinite ability to repress the evil. And I guess I'm growing older. The more I become at peace with myself, the more I feel the need to keep the wrong ones out. And I'm thinking now that if I don't love others unconditionally and don't find excuses for them anymore, maybe I'm becoming one of those authoritarian people I hate, who are always judging the world by their own standards. But now, the more time I spend with others, the more I remember of what I am not. And it shreds me to pieces that what I actually am is hardly visible and I'm not the girl to put it all out there. The things I like never fell in the blueprints of a stereotype. Most people have coherent personalities. Being mediocre is the only thing I was avoiding all this time.
And now that the whiny has been covered, I must say I can't decide whether I like to stay here, all alone and pretending I'm working, or to go home, where the voices of my family wake me up in the morning and the food is great. Maybe I woke up with a rock on my chest. I have no idea. But it's already summer and I've seen so much of the walls of this room, but I can't get out. I do things for fun, I walk and take photos and go to parties and see places. But I sometimes wish we were all butterflies and this is a cocoon. That there is something great for me out there.
Putting myself to sleep, I was trying to make a list of what I want for my birthday. Truth is, it's nothing money can buy. Or at least partially. As weird as it may seem, I actually want a job. But one where I'd feel I'm making a difference. That I'm not just a corporate slave or civil paper pusher. One that would keep me working overtime just because I like it. The money is not such a big issue. My lifestyle does not need much, but of course I'd love a good salary. I'm going to career fairs and sending out applications, asking everybody to give me a hint when they hear of something. I need a break in my academic career [sic!] before I'm left with one dry neuron. As for other things, I want a place of my own and I don't want to share. I had my first kiss when I was 13. Ten years of dating sucked the life out of me. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of the butterflies in the stomach and the waiting by the phone. I want around me just the men who make me happy. For example, I spent last week with Kusturica. I'll probably hit a photo exhibition of Anton Corbijn (director of Control)this week. And I'll shoot hoops with my brother very soon. There's plenty of fun for me out there if that's what I'm looking for. But a place of my own would make me very very happy. And so that I can have three things on my list, I want to travel around. I'll do that a lot this summer, I might even end up in Poland. As for the stuff money can buy... I don't feel like anything's missing. Of course, earrings and books and tea are never enough.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go to tabloid covers


I just stumbled upon Taylor Swift's new video, and I was thinking that there are beautiful and talented girls who are successful without taking their clothes off. With all the Disney slutty stars (starting with Britney and now Miley) around, it's comforting to see that such a sweet girl is touring the world. We can have innocent stars and we can have people other than WASP men ruling the world. Lots of people around me have been expressing their concern with moral decay or endangerment of the human race due to several ecological and health issues. In some parts of the world the gap between the poor and the rich is getting larger. But at the same time, in previously poorer countries the middle class is booming. When Buddhists encourage us to live in the now, they refer to a state of consciousness, not to being blind to the larger picture. The world is huge, there's billions of us and growing. And the world has a past. Whenever we start complaining about little things, we fail to see how lucky we are to complain about that, how much we have grown compared to previous generations. I've always thought that growth is not a good thing for everybody and I've always inclined towards the left, but I must say I don't wanna be in my mother's shoes at my age. It was the year she gave birth to me. The Communist regime had tightened the belt: she had to wait for hours in line to get some milk and she had to bribe the doctor for some formula. Six months after giving birth she had to go back to work and because of the smell of chemicals, I refused breastfeeding afterward. She and my father were working in shifts and I had to stay a few months with my grandmother. When my mother came to see me, I would not recognize her. In order to get a subsidized apartment, because we were living in a worker's residence when I was born, she walked around the city in the hot summer with me in a baby-carriage. It was very hard to raise a child in 80s Romania, even for two parents who both worked and had support from their parents. Imagine people with many kids and nothing to feed them, as meat was almost impossible to find and even for oil you had to go to the other side of the town. The nostalgic are the ones who enjoyed privileges, not the majority of the population. Watching "Children of the Decree", I was not sad, but angry. And not angry at the dead, by at those who keep preaching we need an authoritarian rule. The ones who want women to continue doing double shifts and have children till exhaustion because they are sinners anyway. The ones that think that gypsies should be sent away because they are dirty and thieves. The ones who are not touched by what the regime did to disabled children. The ones that despise whatever is different and have never bothered to be kind to the oppressed. Those people were definitely dissatisfied then too. Those people always have something to complain about, but they are all filthy cowards who cannot speak up against injustice because they were only pursuing their own interest.

Monday, May 4, 2009

My life kicks ass. Including mine


I've never even dreamed of having a pool downstairs. I've never dreamed of a clean, warm and quiet library, stacked with whatever my papers would require. I love living in a large city. I can walk around for days and still feel like it's the first time I've laid my eyes on it. I have all the time I want to just wallow and nobody to bother me. But it's exhausting. When the standard of living goes up, so do our expectations. Of ourselves. I'm working hard on building some self-discipline. I'm making myself listen to that pile of music I've collected thinking I'll play them the next day. I'm pushing harder to work out and eat healthy. The Easter holiday was a complete disaster for my body. I cannot go up the stairs to second floor without feeling like my heart will explode through my ears. I cannot stop craving for the greasy food and creamy deserts. I am a tea and salad person, but in between healthy meals I keep my mind busy so that I don't fantasize about a Whopper or spicy potato chips. Talking about keeping my head busy, it's also hard to get back on track with the huge amount of reading and the daily one pager I'm trying to impose on myself. The truth is I actually enjoy the exhaustive life much better. I sleep well, my back or head doesn't hurt anymore and I feel good about things around me. I might even become a good person if I somehow burn all the residual anger away.