Walls people build

Some chick once said we don’t build walls to keep people away, but to see who are the ones brave enough to climb them. I believe it’s the other way around. The simple logic and basic functionality of fences and walls is their ability to separate. Man from the cold, garden from annoying neighbors, town from invaders. To keep away. Now, the only place where trespassing is portrayed as acceptable and even desirable are fairy tales. Like when Sleeping Beauty’s prince goes through all that trouble to get inside the castle to wake her up. Or when some Prince Charming fights the monster to save his princess. (I may have a thing for underdogs, but I sometimes cheered for the monster. Nobody asks them why they steal beautiful girls. Maybe they’re lonely, maybe the chicks dig their bad boy attitude. I see the symbolism, but in real life there are more than monsters and princes. Sometimes you even get both in the same package. But next time on fairy tales.)

The thing is, we need these walls. They are a natural protection against all evil. The more trauma, the more walls. Some people are so damaged, they have multiple-layered walls. Out of steel. Some have pretty walls and towers and all, in order to be inviting to passer-bys. But always being advised to tear them down is just stupid. In order to let people in, humans have invented these interesting things called doors. There is a name for climbing up the walls in order to get in, and that is invasion. You want in, stand there, in front of the door, let yourself be seen, knock and wait. Social protocol was designed for a reason, it’s supposed to make our interactions easier and decrease the risks of conflict. So the way I see it, walls should be cherished and boundaries respected. To those who have built them, they bring warmth and safety.

And when you are allowed in, there’s so much to discover that was not visible from outside. Sometimes we like what we find and we move in if invited. Sometimes we even make alliances and exchange keys. Sometimes we walk around for a while but get bored and on to another adventure. Sometimes we are terrified by what we see inside, run outside and never come back. We may come visit from time to time, we may be there just once. We are individuals, and individuality comes with boundaries. Getting to know somebody will always happen on their territory and the other way around. Being too invasive might make them feel threatened and show you out. Being stubborn about meeting them on neutral grounds will only allow you a short glimpse of what’s actually there.

So when you are invited in, take the chance. Even if only out of curiosity. And when you want in, do it the right way. Knock. Wait. And when the doors have shut behind you or might never open, let it go, move on, the adventure is probably elsewhere.

I’ve tried for years to bring my walls down and I’ve been pushed to do it so many times but now I believe those people were just lazy. Or had no understanding of what walls are made of and why. Stone after stone makes us who we are. From an early age we learn to see ourselves as distinct individuals. The songs we sang, the little pleasures and scars, the people who’ve stopped by to help us put on another stone, that’s how we build. We don’t just build to keep away. We build to stay inside. A place from where we can observe the world and try to make sense of it. Of course we go visit others as well, we travel, we explore. But we always need a place to call home. And I believe we like to have friends over. And lovers too. So trust me, people who want you over will keep the doors open for you. It happens sometimes that they’re taking a bath or singing (more like shouting) to the Rolling Stones in their pajamas and can’t hear the door bell ring. But check your pockets, you might have the key.

The one that got away

                    
                              Fantasy love is much better than reality love. Never doing it is very exciting. The most exciting attractions are between two opposites that never meet. (Andy Warhol)

Things we wanted badly and never got have an underlying power of growing in our minds up to where we see them as perfect. So do people, especially those who play a temporary role in our lives, but leave us with a sense of missing out on something bigger. At some point, we all have in the back of our heads the one that got away. That one person who would have been perfect for us, who none of those we actually had can compare to. The one that got away is our standard for perfection and our hallmark of nostalgia.

I met mine when I was still pretty young but not that innocent. I had known him before, when he caught my eye, but it was only a few months later that we actually met. He was supposed to entertain me for a few hours while I was transiting a new city. Maybe it was the sunset or the soon-to-be-summer weather, maybe it was just me and my soft spot for really smart guys, but it took a couple of minutes and I was hooked. Our sense of humor blended perfectly and we were amused by the most random things. We talked for hours and I wished it would never end. We saw each other two more times that week and it did feel like it would never end. But then I went home and e-mailing just didn’t do it. I never even held his hand, although I dreamed about it for months. In the end, we both fell in love with other people and let it go.

But every now and then I keep wondering whether I could have transformed that story into a love story. Whether we would’ve been great together if it wasn’t for the distance. I now dare to say it’s better the way things turned out. We all need that hope that comes with knowing you had that perfect thing right in front of you and you let it go out of not wanting to spoil it. That hope that makes us believe giving up is not always a bad thing.

I don’t believe we search for perfection in our relationships, I think we all look for a match, a match that would fit our own flaws, one that is insanely wrong and feels so good. We want things we can eventually let go of, not life-changing indispensable love. That kind is left for our imagination, for that amazing place where all the magic takes place.

So while keeping the wonders of meeting the perfect man in the back of our heads, let’s celebrate the other ones. Let’s raise a glass to complicated and weird and sometimes annoying, to the ones we have to learn to love and the ones we have to forgive from time to time, the ones we want to murder now and revive the next minute. Perfect is great, but wait until you meet the damaged. The real deal.

The one that got away will always be that one thing we wanted from life but never got. We might not think about it every day, we might even forget for a while. But one day, when we’re grandmas, we’ll open a box and look at a postcard and the whole skip a breath feeling will come back to us. Because fantasy love never leaves us. Never having to end it has made it part of us. Never even doing it has given us the power to write the story of what could have been in our heads over and over again and living it in our imagination protected it from all the darkness and dirt it would have faced in the real world. So we do live our own fairy tales, and Neverland is not as far as you might think.

Oh, young love!

Back when I was young, things were different. Boys didn’t text you, they wrote you letters. They didn’t pick you up with their ride in the middle of the night, they walked with you hand in hand in the sunset and then showed you the moon rising. They bought you flowers, not drinks. Yeah, when I was young, things seemed so much easier. Just that they weren’t.

As time goes by and we get jaded, we forget what it was like to be in ‘can’t breath without you’ love. How we spent nights dreaming about one look or touch of the hand. How our knees went soft and suddenly we grew butterflies in our stomach that move chaotically. But how did we get jaded? Where did we cross the line where we can laugh at the guy who says ‘forever’, where writing our names in the sand is corny, where just catching a glimpse of the other doesn't tingle all of our senses anymore?

I keep saying to myself whenever I get nostalgic that things were never as complicated as they are now. And it’s never true. Let’s be honest, suffering like a dog because a boy who didn’t even know your name had a new girlfriend was just plain stupid. When you were lucky enough to have him return the feelings, neither of you knew what to say or do and most of what happened in that relationship was just in your head. Not that things have changed much in this area ever since. Oh, and when one of those blitzkrieg loves came to an end, it brought weeks of tears, guilt trips or crushed self esteem, “omg, my life is over, I will never love again”. It wasn’t easier. It just seems more exciting from where we’re standing now.

But there was this particular thing I really miss. And I sometimes feel like I don’t have it in me anymore to go there. It’s summer romances. That amazing feeling of freedom you get on vacations, the arousal brought about by the smell of salty water or pine tree resin, all that energy you’ve canned for a while burst into these wicked fireworks of passion. It’s funny how the first few times we think it’ the real deal. We’ve met the man of our dreams, “but dammit, we have to go our separate ways next week”. That can only happen to pure spirits, those who still believe that letters can patch up a real relationship, to young souls in search of love. I know people have them at all ages, but I’ve grown to like things plain and simple and summer loves are a different cup of tea.

Young love has its perks. At least for a while, you can go guns blazing into something and not fear the consequences, because you are sure that this is it. You can say the big words and not choke laughing. You can be just as crazy about somebody as you can without the risk of being considered the stalker kind or a hysterical bitch. And most of all, you can give it all. After you’ve taken a few punches in the face from lady love, you’ll never be that open again, never invest as much, never confide as much in its power.

Of course we all fall silly in love from time to time, some for years, some for days. We may not be able to sleep or eat or think of other things, we’ll itch to get it over with. But we’ll invest so much less every time, because we now know what we didn’t know then. That there is no such thing as forever, our hopes and dreams are not safe with him and we’re eventually bound to lose one way or the other. I guess the only thing left to do is remember that feeling of invincibility from time to time, to lose the grip just like we used to and to learn a little trust in love and the ways in which it makes our lives better. If it does.

The grass is greener...

In my long trip through the forests of singleness I’ve come across so many stories about relationships I can’t help wondering whether they were lessons send by the universe to learn at the right time. So I thought I’d go through some of the things I’ve learned from people from the other side of the tracks.
First of all, I’ve learned never to assume. People may hook up with someone and give it a week or think it’s the love of their lives, but you never know. Treating every relationship with the care and respect it deserves is something we owe to ourselves. Of course those first few weeks are amazing and all, but infatuation does not guarantee success on the long run, it’s a battle and we should never forget it.
Talking about battles, it’s a hell of a tough one to get to know the other. And one thing we should learn when being with someone is that we are two different views on reality that meet. And that don’t have to merge in order for the thing to work. I’m so tired of seeing people trying to tailor their partner in order to make him or her be just what they were looking for. People have a past and it might come to shatter the current relationship. Or it might just help us better understand the person next to us through the lens of their life experiences. Those we say we love deserve to be appreciated for who they are and not an image we have in our heads.
A third thing that’s always coming up in conversations is cheating. People cheat whether we like it or not and it’s not that easy to predict what leads them to that. They can cheat while holding our hand and they can cheat and we’ll never find out about it. I now believe it comes to happen when people start looking for excitement outside their relationship. It does not mean they may not still be in love with their partner. It means they want something else for a change. It sounds light, right? Well, it’s a lot more complicated than that. As I’ve noticed lately, commitment is about being able to make plans with the other person, about being able to assume they’d be there for you in certain situations. Now people say cheating wrecks trust, and I think it mostly wrecks that certainty that you can count on your partner. Of course, there’s also our ego and it would never accept other puppies eating from the same bowl. Just like in the case of having a hard time accepting the other’s romantic past, fear of cheating feeds on the ego. And it transforms people.
Another thing that transforms people is distance. Distance freaks us out because it increases this uncertainty that is incompatible with commitment. Because we feel it increases the likelihood of cheating and because we start fearing that we might become less and less relevant to the other. Distance changes people in that it makes their ego inflate and with it all those slimy parasites we call jealousy, fear and anger. I’ve known amazing couples who can fight it. It’s usually patient people who have come to terms with how they can make it work. As for the rest of us, we can barely keep the boat floating when we’re together.
And when that boat sinks, we may spend some time asking ourselves what went wrong. But breakups are a power race. And somebody gets left behind. The funny thing is some of the champs may eventually regret it. And remember taking things for granted was a retarded thing to do. I met this amazing woman who was crazy in love with her boyfriend and they eventually broke up due to some of the reasons above. And now she’s fighting to get him back, but he’s stringing her along because there is no guarantee he won’t get dumped again. One thing I’ve learned from most of my “coupled” friends is that taking things for granted is the wrong way to go. Whether you take for granted that that person’s always going to be there or the fact that you are bound to be cheated upon or left, relationships are just as complex as the people in them. I must set these words aside and read them when I’m with somebody, because we so often think in a box about our relationships, we pretend we know so much about where we stand and what we want from them that we forget we’ll always be scared little children in the face of love.
Oh, I almost forgot about love. Or what we may call ‘coup de foudre’ or at least infatuation. Now this is a lesson I want to pass on from this side of the fence. It’s an incredibly rare thing and it makes people so fragile and yet gives them this crazy strength to outdo themselves. Of course we could talk about it forever. But what I’m saying is, when you’ve lost your head, enjoy the weightlessness, because pretty soon all those other demons I’ve been writing about will come to bite you in the ass.

Just friends

When I was a little girl my best friends were boys because all the chicks on my block were whiny little bitches who always ran crying to their mommy if I tried to show my infinite appreciation for them by throwing dust to their faces or tripping them and what not. Boys were always more of my kinda guys. They lived dangerously. Climbed trees, jumped off swings in motion and build forts out of carton boxes or snow. However, I knew then what I shouldn’t have forgotten now. We can’t be “just friends”. One of my closest playmates was this adorable little boy who would walk around pushing my doll’s toy stroller and talk to me about how we would get married when we grow up. Almost twenty years later, that perspective still freaks me out.
But I keep forgetting. And I start the same old creepy dance over and over again. I meet this guy who’s really cool and I could talk to him for hours. However, I have no romantic interest in him and I convince myself he doesn’t either. Which is likely to be true, but not to stay that way forever. So then I’m like hey dude let’s hang out, I love it I can do shots with you and not worry I’m gonna end up in someone’s bed the next morning, cause you’re such a good friend who’s gonna care for me. I invite him over to watch movies, share my heartaches with him and keep asking what’s wrong with guys and why don’t I have then figured out by now. He’s never going to provide an answer to that. Moreover, he’s soon going to be the reason I’m asking it.

I used to think there are barriers that can’t be crossed and that would keep things between us at the “just friends” level. Having a girlfriend or a wife does not stop your friends from eventually hitting on you. Neither does being friends to your ex-boyfriends, ex-boyfriends of your friends or being your own ex-boyfriends to whom you’ve made it perfectly clear there’s no sexual anything left between the two of you. Explaining to your friend how messed up you are or how you’ll never fall for him will only give him more reasons to become infatuated with you.
Spending a lot of time with the other sex is bound to eventually create tension. Especially when you’re hot and all of your friends are at least fairly attractive. Although, after the right amount of time, I believe the mermaid effect takes its toll on each of us. This is one of Barney “Awesome” Stinson's of ‘How I Met Your Mother’ theories and it says that no matter how uninterested you may be in someone, after the right amount of time, especially when you’re “on dry land”, they begin to look really attractive to you.

So now I’ve done it again. I think it happens to me quite often, and it’s mostly because I always remember the good times of crashing toy cars and crossing wood swords with my childhood friends and I keep forgetting what terrible tragedies my friendships to the opposite sex eventually bring along. You’d say I’m exaggerating, try explaining it to those girls whose boyfriends not only whine to me about how they’re bored in their relationships and how they cheat and how maybe they’d leave it all behind if I gave them a chance. And then to those really nice fellas who’ve waited for me to jump on board until they got rejected in a really unpleasant manner and eventually grew to hate me. Or to the ones who at least figured it out on their own, never had the balls to say anything, eventually ended up with some girl who makes them miserable and every now and then they ask themselves “what if”.
I’m not saying it never happened to me. It’s hurtful and annoying and it makes you ask yourself what’s wrong with you if that person likes you but not in that way. It’s something nobody deserves being put through and especially not someone you consider a friend. So next time I feel like I’ve been spending too much time with a guy I’m not really interested in, somebody should come over and remind me that boys and girls cannot just be friends. I give exceptions their fair “hats off”, but as far as rules go, it’s safer to stick with this one.

Miserable

"I feel like one of those people who is so miserable that they can't be around normal people, like I'll infect the happy people." Meredith Grey

Today I accidentally set my clock one hour ahead and that little thing eventually led me to learn something so obvious about myself. I'm a mean angry person. I don't miss one chance to yell at people. I swear a lot. I bash others when they're not around. And all that because I'm so miserable. Not unhappy. It's as if I even forgot about being happy. Yes, I am contempt. And I have moments of total bliss. But I'm annoyed by any tiny criticism. By any person who doesn't meet my expectations. As if I had such high standards. Truth is I have them for myself. And they're stupid and part of why I'm so miserable. I need to let go and I need to cut myself some slack. One of these days I'll bake myself some muffins. And some other day I'll assume everyone likes me and they're just as miserable as I used to be.
Maybe being nurturing and having a living soul to make me smile will do the trick. The kitty I'm adopting is coming in today. She's a little black kitten rescued from a car wash where she ended up after climbing in a car and getting stuck in the engine. I wanna name her Olga and I really hope she grows to love me. I got her toys and baby cat food and all the other stuff she'll need. I'm already thinking of a Christmas present. It's going to be some sort of hammock to put on the radiator. Oh, I can't wait to see her!

Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.

I've started watching How I Met Your Mother and it's been cheering me up a lot. I guess I kinda see myself right now in Ted. I just watched this episode where it said nothing good happens after 2 a.m. Truth is, I gotta agree with that. I used to be a chick who didn't wanna miss one night out. And the kind who doesn't wanna go home after 2 a.m. So now my memories of pretty fun nights are all perverted by memories of bad mornings. I was either sick because of the smoke and the lack of sleep, I was either at some friend's place without a toothbrush and clothes to change or I was just trying to figure out why I didn't go home earlier that night. Thinking about exceptions from the rule a night came to my mind. When this guy I liked for a long time finally met me and seemed to be swept away. Turns out I should have gone home before he shook my hand. Wasted a lot of time waiting for him to come around and make up his mind. He never did. Instead, he even enforced a string of bad after 2 a.m. decisions. Was it fun? I guess it was. But it was like a drug. I thought it was recreational and it ended up messing up a lot of things in my life.
However, I've had worse nights. I do need new memories. Memories of all the places in this city in which I'm just having innocent fun with the friends who really matter. Memories of bright colors and pretty outfits. Of music I can sing along and people who can have enriching conversation. Of waking up in my bed well-rested and toast some bread and smell the tea while smiling about the night before. I don't need wild to have fun anymore. I need cozy.

Summer's out

Here goes yet another summer. Now it's the time to think about how the next summer will be better and how I'll manage to save up to do something exciting. But the truth is I had the resources, I just didn't have anyone to go away with. Anyway. This summer sucked more than the one before, when I at least went to summer school and traveled a little around Budapest and then went up to the mountains. This summer I only got a weekend at the baths, one in Harghita and one in Sighisoara. Basically, stuff I could've done in any season anyway. My days off from work were spent helping my family - visiting my uncle when he underwent surgery and then helping my grandparents with the harvest. I spent most time doing nothing and I didn't even feel bored or lonely.
In a way, autumn is good because it pushes me to start working. I have to take my exams this week and then I have to finish the research. I'll hate the cold and I'll soon be exhausted. I'm now used to eating lots of times a day and sleeping over ten hours. I have to get to a few low carb meals and six hours of sleep. Otherwise, I'll just keep doing as little as possible and always at the last minute. I know myself, when I indulge, I do it thoroughly.
I've been spending this last year freaked out about not knowing what I want to do with my life. But now I'll just stick to creating options for myself. Being more involved with the academics, but keeping an eye on the labor market. Applying to PhDs and looking for better jobs. It may not come fast and easy and I'm ready to wait for it. I just don't want to be stuck anymore. I'm also improving my abilities to commit. I'm adopting a kitten, she should be with me in about two weeks. I feel that maybe I haven't been as nurturing towards others as I used to be and maybe I am intimidating or at least awkward to people who meet me.
So I hope I'll start writing about things more interesting than myself soon, I should start a diary and stop whining online. But for now, it feels better to catch up with myself and I guess there are people out there who'd like that too.

On the Road

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but, burn, burn, burn like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."

Light summer readings

For my birthday I got a copy of Sex and the City, Candance Bushnell's book. It's terribly bad written, but I enjoyed reading it. I laughed quite a lot and was constantly comparing the stories and characters to those in the HBO series. I guess Carrie's character is pretty much the same: a young writer and socialite always looking for fun and love. The other characters are kinda missing, except for Stanford Blatch, maybe. Samantha Jones is this producer who's sleeping around while dreaming of a monogamous relationship. Charlotte and Miranda may have appeared under other names, but they were just passing by. I appreciated there was more sex talk from men's perspectives and really hated all the drug references. In Bushnell's New York almost everyone was doing drugs. Mr. Big and Carrie make a yucky couple in the book, I'm not even sure why. They just have shitty drama going on. So I recommend it to the aficionados but I'm not sure about the profane. Maybe with a fresh eye it could actually be an interesting read.

I also had in my bag a book by Frederic Beigbeder. I can't really grasp the English translation, so I'll just leave it to that. Fun book as well. This one's about a French male socialite and his crazy adventures until he finds real love. The guy has a gang of other wacky rich kids and they attend all sorts of high-end parties that eventually turn into chaotic cake-throwing bashes. At first he has this girlfriend, Victorie, who's rich and has been living with him for a while. But at some point he meets this fair lady Anne and does his best to get rid of the old model. Of course, Victorie eventually marries his best friend. The tale of his emotions while he's courting Anne is endearing. Eventually they reach that lovely routine only passionate couples can live in, when doing even the smallest things together feels like a celebration. So I vote for Beigbeder's book. As a European male, his Marc Marronnier shows much more trust in the capacities of love to bring about change than the oversexed characters of Sex and the City.

Emotional rapists

So I wonder which nice guy is asking me out tonight. You know those guys. Good on paper, nice job, fairly cute, warm and kind. I've come to the conclusion I wanna swing a bat at their heads most times. Because they are emotional rapists. They usually trick me into giving them some contact details to keep in touch, cause I'm such a fun person to talk to. First clue: they feed on your ego. Then they have some thing they wanna do with me. Just me. Cause it would be so nice, I should go. I try to say no in a non-hurtful way. Because they seem so fragile. So they insist. Over and over again. That's kinda the second clue: you don't even get to think they're desperate, you're too caught up in finding new ways to say no. And once they do get it, it's time for the guilt trip. Oh, that's the worst part of them all. They either don't do that thing without you and stay at home sad and alone, or they do it but tell you how less fun it was without you there. It all seems natural, I know. But I call them rapists for a reason. Their endeavor is violent at the subconscious level. They lift you up with flattery and then put you down cause you don't act according to expectations. They make me feel like, against my will, I was part of a story that's all in their heads and somehow I'm the one who gets to feel guilty about their miserable lives.
Oh, but if you do say yes, all hell breaks loose. They'll smother you and care for you and all that. And it's probably fun. People ask what's with girls running after the bad boys all the time. Well, let me tell you something. The nice guys, apart from totally wrecking your head with their insecurities and always checking up on you, are most likely to lie. Cause they don't want you to ever be upset with them. So they lie about the little things. And one lie leads to another and so on. Then they project their own behavior on you and there goes jealousy. Thank you very much, good boys are too much of a drama for me.

On the road again

I don't even know what I wanna say about my weekend at the bikers' reunion. I had times I felt I didn't belong there, but I guess a party is a party and it's not just for those who throw it. Late Thursday night I get a message from the babe asking me if it's crazy to just go the next day over to this reunion so she can surprise her boyfriend. And I thought 'meh' and went back to sleep.
But I woke up asking myself why the hell not. So I went to work, hurried with the articles and early afternoon we were out hitchhiking. It didn't take a minute before a truck picked us up. He was a nice fellow and being on the road was so refreshing. After that a younger guy coming from Germany took us another bit of the way and then a guy who lives nearby the town we were headed to.
Whatever. So we were there. We found the people to hang with. Had a few beers. I had some kind of cheap liquor, I almost danced but hardly kept my balance. I know we walked around all night, but can't really remember the order of events.
Anyhow, the next day I was bored or sleepy or something. I didn't even have an appetite, but we went to lunch to this nearby restaurant. The potatoes were too salty and I couldn't eat my chicken. So then I just had some cotton candy and went to sleep. I finally got back to beer and we had a laugh and I made a daisy wreath. There was a concert of some Hungarian metal band and I got lost for a while and that's about it. Cause we all went to bed early. There was this guy in our room snoring like a truck. We left early in the morning with some friends' car. When I got back here I felt I was gonna suffocate. In all possible ways.
So all in all, it was a fun trip. I met a lot of people I'll probably not be seeing again, but the point is I got out of this concrete jail for a while. And yes, I've been leaving all the fun stuff aside, but that's mine to keep.

Where to?

So I'm stuck. I just turned 24 and I got two of the things I wished for last year. I got an exciting job that makes me feel I am making a difference and I moved out of my parents' home to my very own place. I've read a few more books and watched even more movies, but I didn't get to travel as much as I was hoping. I didn't get to enjoy all this for some reason. I just lived in this state of inertia, where my only reactions were due to the acceleration of events in my life. I do not feel I was the one to make things happen. I am happy crappy 23 is over,though.
What I want for myself right now a little extra brain. So that I don't repeat the academic laziness of the first year in my research M.A. And maybe so that I apply for PhD, even though I'm not sure it's what I want. So that I can get kick-ass subjects for the paper. So that I can finally meet the nice and interesting people and not bother about the trolls. So that I can finally pull myself together and do something with my life. Other than sitting around, eating cheese frankfurter and ice cream and watching TV shows. Which is kinda what I enjoy lately, too much I would say.
All in all, you can't be lost if you don't know where you're going, right? But I would rather get a sense of purpose than just chill and see what gives. Tried this one and it didn't actually work.

This morning I went to work...

... but because electricity was down, ended up having a cup (or two) of wine on the staircase. I had to attend a meeting at the City Hall around noon, so I had some time to waste. Went for a lemonade at Bulgakov and then looking for a bike. Waited the whole local council meeting to ask the mayor for an interview and he blew me off in five seconds. So I decided to go to the movies, but stopped on the way to see another bike store. That's when my dad called and picked me up to buy some pouffes I've been looking for. We went to lunch and to check on my brother. Then he wanted to show me the furniture he'd just purchased, so I went to the furniture store. And to the nearby supermarket to buy a kitchen clock (which, turns out, was broken). I was thinking all day about some hot dogs, but I wanted to try out my new can opener, so now I'm standing here in my underwear, cause it's freaking hot even in the evening, eating beans and sausages and I was so amused by how twisted the day was, I couldn't help sharing.
Also, I must write about TIFF as soon as possible, it's been a week or two already. Also, about my weekend in Hungary at the baths. About the lousy season finales I've been watching. And what not.

House M.D. quote

"I like being alone. At least, I convince myself that I'm better off that way. (...) We're better off alone. We suffer alone. Doesn't matter if you're a model husband, or father of the year. Tomorrow will be the same for you."

Cinema

Questionable Content

Following xkcd, I got to questionablecontent.net and it was love at first sight. It's a webcomic with indie kids, in short. Its Wikipedia page does a better job at explaining the basics:
"The plot centers on Marten Reed, an indie rock aficionado; his roommate, Faye Whitaker; and Faye's boss (later Marten's girlfriend), Dora Bianchi. Supporting characters include employees of the local coffee shop, neighbours and anthropomorphized personal computers. QC's storytelling style combines romantic melodrama, sitcom, humor about indie rock music, and sexual or scatological humor. The artistic style has notably changed over the lifetime of the comic, as Jacques has been constantly refining his drawing methods. Whereas earlier strips were focused at a niche audience of indie music fans, the comic has since become more story- and character-driven."
I was tempted to say more about the story, but maybe I'll just spoil it. The comic is currently at strip number 1662 and it took me a while to get through all of them, but now I can't wait for the next one. You get to regard the characters as friends, or maybe it's just because I don't have a very active social life. But they are fun to spend time with, Hannelore is a sweetheart and I guess I see bits of myself in both Dora and Faye and that's what kept me so hooked. I like the character development and also the evolution in artistic style, but the humor is what makes qc so cool. Jeph would make a great script writer, at least considering his witty dialogue skills. All in all, my favorite webcomic so far.

Capitalism and avengers

I've been away for quite a while and I could whine about my computer having no cable or the lack of hot water on my block or the silly cold I got. But I guess being happy is like sleep. Once you've gone enough without it, you don't feel the need anymore. At least for a while. And then it just happens to you. Unless you have happiness insomnia, which we generally call depression. But that's a different story.
So I wanted to write about movies. I haven't been seeing the greatest flicks of our time, but it's become my favorite pass-time activity, since Virginia Wolf only triggers my anxieties. Last week I took an afternoon to watch two Romanian productions. The first one was a much expected documentary called 'Kapitalism - our secret recipe'. It follows around some of Romania's billionaires and asks how they built their wealth. The documentary starts with Ceausescu's ghost coming back to his country just to see how his people has been brainwashed by consumerism. But at the end he leaves pretty satisfied, seeing how the elite has maintained alive the ways of the nomenklatura: acquiring wealth through their connections, in a rather questions-raising manner. The conclusion is we cannot experience real institutional change, nor benefit of the full advantages of a free market if other prerogatives of capitalism aren't in action. If the old elites transfer state property into their own hands with no proper bid, therefore ignoring the principle of competition, it is most likely that they will maintain their position and leave little room at the top for new-comers. Basically, I read the main argument in the light of Szelenyi and Townsley's concept of capitalism without capitalists. The social critique of the film-maker Alexandru Solomon is, I guess, that the Romanians tried to build capitalism with leftover tools from socialism.
The second film I saw that day was a great surprise. I had read some reviews and they were all mean to what I dare to call the most "skip a breath" Romanian movie I've seen this year. It didn't get the prizes to make it famous, nor the attention it deserved, but it was finally something unexpected. A different language, I would say. It's called 'The Green Moon' and was directed by Alexa Visarion. It follows around some young people who talk about their lives and worries and taste in things. What I do like is that it fails to be the pretentious 'artsy' movie the audience was expecting and it has no trace of the nostalgia and self-pitty Romanian movie scrips ooze of these last few years. However, it manages to be hilarious and dramatic and true to its discourse. I might read all movies wrong, but this one said to me 'we are all connected'. One other thing I liked was that, ignoring the landmarks that foresee the ending, there are a few scenes that are genuinely breath-taking and it doesn't even feel like the director was trying too hard. One other thing: Placebo's 'Pure Morning' plays obsessively in the backgroud and it literally tells the story.
Well now, in a more superficial tone, I've also watched some superhero flicks this weekend. 'Iron Man 2' might have been a really bad movie, but I wouldn't notice it in a million years due to my infatuation with Robert Downey Jr. But I must say, I do appreciate the more jolly type of savior, a guy who plays crazy but is tremendously smart. As opposed to the grim and broken justice seeker, like the character in 'The Punisher'. God, that skull T-shirt was awesome, but except for that, I think the original Marvel comics kicked the movie's ass big time. I know, most times the book beats the movie. Except for 300. Cause the comic was amazing, but you do not get to argue with those computer-rendered abs. You just don't.

The real Alice

Dimineata

Astazi cand m-am trezit, pielea imi mirosea a vitamine pentru copii. A trebuit sa imi imaginez o dimineata de Pasti cu sandale rosii de lac si soare si copii alaturi de care ignoram slujba religioasa, ca sa umplem curtea bisericii de coji de oua rosii. Apoi mi-am dat seama ca visele din trecut nu sunt de ajuns ca sa ma dau jos din pat. Si-atunci m-am gandit la o alta dimineata, cand inca e intuneric si strazile nu mai miros a oras, iar eu sunt somnoroasa si ma pornesc undeva cu rucsacul in spate. Dar si aceasta e o imagine de undeva din urma. Incapacitatea mea de a-mi visa viitorul ma tine inerta intr-un univers unde nimic nu mai e destul de important, dar toate maruntisurile ma frustreaza pentru ca intr-o zi ar putea fi. O lume in care nu am de ce sa ma ridic din pat dimineata.

"Daca vrei sa citesti cartea asta, nu-ti bate capul"

"Putem trece prin viata lasandu-i pe altii sa ne spuna cine suntem. Daca suntem sanatosi sau nebuni. Sfinti sau dependenti sexual. Eroi sau victime. Lasand istoria sa decida cat de buni sau de rai suntem.
Lasand trecutul sa ne hotarasca viitorul.
Sau putem hotari si singuri.
Si poate ca tine de noi sa inventam ceva mai bun."

Astenia e o forma de lene

Nu se face miercuri bine, ca ma loveste o oboseala si o lipsa de chef de nu-i adevarat. Ma simt vinovata uneori ca dorm cam mult, dar cand urmaresc mai atent pe ce pierd timpul, imi dau seama ca totul e oarecum bine motivat, doar ca eu uit sa includ detalii esentiale in planurile mele. De exemplu, munca prin casa imi ia mereu mai mult decat ma asteptam. Aseara m-am uitat trei ore la masina de spalat, nedumerita nevoie mare. Ma intreb mereu ce fac toata ziua cei care nu fac toate chestiile astea pe care eu abia le inghesui intr-o zi. Pentru ca eu una nu am timp sa ma plictisesc. Daca as avea timp liber cu carul, as reusi sa citesc in sfarsit teancul de carti si reviste care ma asteapta. Cu filmele hai ca stau mai bine, de vreme ce folosesc televizorul pe post de radio ca sa aflu stirile dimineata, atunci cand sunt foarte obosita dar nu mor de somn, apuc sa strecor un film sau un serial.
Am dat de Numb3rs si sunt prinsa. E produs de fratii Scott, iar povestea de baza e tot despre doi frati. Unul e agent FBI si celalalt un matematician extraordinar care il ajuta sa rezolve tot felul de cazuri prin procedee ce tin de logica si matematica. Incearca de obicei sa determine algoritmi sau sa incadreze evenimentele in ecuatii. Uneori nu ii iese, dar solutiile sunt intotdeauna witty si povestea te prinde. Povestea care leaga episoadele e destul de subtirica, despre viata personala a celor doi aflam doar faramite pe parcurs, dar inca sunt la primul sezon, deci mai este inca de invatat. In principiu, porneste de la aceeasi idee ca si Bones, ca stiinta, si mai ales oamenii de stiinta exceptionali, poate ajuta la rezolvarea dilemelor politienesti, transpunandu-le in probleme sau folosind teoriile deja consacrate. Este intr-un fel o modalitate de a apropia publicul larg de stiinta, facand-o accesibila si interesanta, trend usor de observat in televiziunea recenta, in special daca ne gandim la productiile Discovery care migreaza de la a descrie universul la a arata aplicatii mai prozaice, cotidiene ale stiintei.

On second thought

Nu a trecut mai putin de o luna si am dat cu bota in balta, a rezolutiilor de anul nou vreau sa zic. Nu am apucat inca sa fac planuri. Am depasit in continuare deadline-uri si am cam intrat cu bocancii in sufletul oamenilor, ca sa nu fiu modesta si sa zic ca doar i-am jignit. Bineinteles ca am uitat iarasi sa numar mai departe de trei cand vine vorba de pahare si am pierdut un procent semnificant din timp facand nimic.
Dar daca e ceva ce ar trebui neaparat sa fac anul asta e sa o las mai moale. Pentru ca tot trambitez teoria cum ca ar trebui sa nu avem atatea asteptari de la cei din jur, ca ne dezamagim singuri si singuri ne lasam raniti. Daca as face asta si in cazul meu, probabil ca mi-ar fi mai usor sa ma adun si sa-mi asum riscul de a gresi din nou. Pentru ca uneori iese bine si nu am vrut niciodata totul sau nimic.
In alta ordine de idei, am un job nou, sunt si reporter. Imi place. Cercetarea ma tine aproape de ceea ce m-am pregatit sa fac, iar la ziar am vrut de mult timp macar sa incerc. Singura chestie care imi pica mai greu acum e sesiunea, ma confrunt pentru prima data cu o scarba serioasa de scris aiurea-n tramvai. Nu sunt cu nimic mai cumpatata si sper ca semnele bune de pana acum sa nu ma fi pacalit. Anul acesta e plin de schimbari. Intr-o saptamana-doua ma mut si ma gandesc ca daca tot e atata nou, sa ma tund, sa-mi schimb culoarea la par. Daca toate schimbarile ar veni mai deodata decat acum, probabil ca m-as plange. Sunt rasfatata de faptul ca primesc tot ce vreau, dar sunt cazuri in care mi-as dori sa vreau ceea ce-mi face bine. La cat de usor ma plictisesc, ma astept ca dorintele toxice sa dispara cat de curand.