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.

Cel mai bun an

2009 a fost un an nasol. Nu mi-a prea placut deloc. A inceput cu un revelion jalnic, un ianuarie cu deadline-uri obscene, o primavara ciudata in care poate mi-am permis sa cred cat de putin si am luat-o in bot. Am apucat sa calatoresc putin vara si asta e singura mea sursa de imagini frumoase despre anul asta tampit. Am facut greseala de a nu-mi recunoaste limitele si proastele obiceiuri. Am incercat sa parasesc anul cu inima impacata, dar inca sunt multe lucruri pe care vreau sa le invat.
Cred sincer ca anul viitor este loc de speranta. De schimbari pe care sa le caut si sa le intampin. Sunt atat de multe lucruri pe care nu vreau sa le repet. In primul rand nu mai vreau sa ma dau batuta. Nu mai vreau sa pierd prieteni sau sa dezamagesc oameni care au investit in mine. Nu mai vreau sa-mi fac rau singura. Dar cel mai mult vreau sa-mi mentin atentia indreptata spre lucrurile pe care vreau sa le obtin. Sa imi dau voie din nou sa visez. Sa gasesc un milion de motive sa lucrez mai mult. Sa tin langa mine doar pe cei care merita.
E 00:00 si a mai ramas o zi din 2009. O zi in care sa fac planuri si poate sa ma mai uit la o fotografie-doua. O zi in care sa-mi promit ca voi profita de ce mi-o aduce 2010. Maine incepe cel mai bun an de pana acum.

Working class hero

I went for a walk with my family and then over to my new apartment to check out how the redecorating is going. It's all making me feel so empty. I go to bed and wake up in the morning thinking about how happy I am, how quiet is this time in my life, when I'm not yet paying any bills, have no place I have to be and can just lay in bed with a book or whatever else it is that I do with my time these days. I'm going to miss it. The noise in the kitchen that wakes me up in the morning, the fun in being around my brother, the absence of worries.
Flipping through InStyle, I remembered why I've been avoiding fashion magazines all along these past months. There was a watch that cost more than an apartment and I felt so angry thinking of the inequalities that make a market for such a product possible. I finally get the whole dancing and singing Big Brother thing. Keeping us doped with advertising, with dreams of little attainable things makes us so much easier to control. So much can be taken away from us in the mean time, cause we'd be willing to give away things we thought we had plenty of until we wake up one day and it's not there anymore. Can you win your innocence back? Can we now say we have all the time on our hands to enjoy the wealth we paid time for? These are superficial examples. But there are days when we just say to ourselves I guess it's all right if this guy is a self-righteous prick, I mean most people are in the end. And that day when we are not repulsed or angry about what stands against our own values we die a bit.

TV shows and other blabla

I haven't touched the camera in weeks, so I'm out of photos. I'm one more day behind with that deadline, but somehow I couldn't care less. I keep thinking about academics and how I don't really fit in the picture. But I guess that's something time will tell.
Yesterday I watched the new episodes of my two favorite shows. I've been in love with detective stories and forensic witchcraft ever since I was a little kid. Actually, when other girls wanted to be ballet dancers I wanted to be Jessica Fletcher, only like thirty years younger. To solve murders and write books. I guess now I'd wanna be more Temperance Brennan, still solving murders and writing books, but add some beauty and money plus the sometimes social awkwardness due to way over average intelligence and knowledge.
Mkay, so I'm off for some Supernatural beefcake ;)

Do you believe in life after love?

After having "Oh, Susana" playing on and on in my head for days, today it's Cher. It's like the annoying songs of my childhood have all decided to haunt me this winter. I'm trying to counterbalance it by caroling around the house. Problem is I start humming on the street as well. Yesterday it was "Take me to the riot". It's a hell of a musical December.
So I was thinking of a smashing holiday schedule, which includes children movies, lots of food and occasionally some witty jazz. But that's for next week, cause I'm so caught up with procrastinating right now. I'm even three days behind on a mid-something paper deadline. My procrastination today includes tortellini and shopping for bathroom accessories. Moving out next month has given me such an amazing list of projects to set in motion and then drop before they're done. Like making a catalog of all the books in the house. Or chronologically ordering my classes and projects of the last like ten years. Stuff that implies paper and dust and a bitter taste of guilt for all those trees.
Whatever I had on my mind when I started writing this post is lost somewhere but I guess it was in one way or another just bragging about my very own place. I'm getting the room painted as well and I've been obsessed with peach for a long time. But this morning I was thinking it's either too pink and girlish, either too beige and boring. I found some awesome examples on the web and now I think it's actually more of an orange, which makes it both feng shui and trendy (hahahahaha). Anyway, it may have actually been a great idea all along. It does require a change of plans in terms of rug and curtains, but oh, well, if I can't do plans, what the hell am I good at?
The kids start holiday today, but I just had to leave my presentation for the last minute, so now I'm still going next week. Somehow I guess I do like it, especially when I'm heading home and the whole city is on fire. It is crazy, but man how I love those Christmas lights. The snowflakes, the bells, the crazy colored trees. I wonder if there's some reindeer this year anywhere. Never been one for winter holidays, but this year is the first time I don't have work to do and I'm gonna lazy around them bravely.
I've read Palahniuk's "Diary" and I did love his writing, but I guess there's always expectations after reading a book or two. I maybe wanted his writing to be so violent it makes my head spin, to leave the meanings behind the line of obvious, to be drawn into almost snuff stories. Instead, I found a recipe that was pretty predictable, a story of a community ruthlessly striving for independence and well-being, an underlying discourse of exploitation of women as housewives, as scapegoats, as free sources of production mainly through marriage. Of course, what I read is so much of my own mind and I bet one of the wonderful things about his art is that you can be terrified and amused at the same time, looking at larger meaning or just experiencing sensations.
OMG I can't wait for snow. The house wine and gingerbread taste different after a day of sleighing. I feel that all the mean energy of this year is already fading away and the next one's gonna be a blast.
Well, I've had time to think it through and maybe I'm too good for you.

Somewhere over the rainbow

I still don't like the banner, but I can live with the hope I'll be able to get some amazing forest photos this autumn so I can change it. That's what I live on nowadays. Hopes. And dreams of being free. Free from all the CEU bullshit. Because I'm not done with my thesis and I should be by Thursday. And I can't write. I just can't. I'd do anything but. I know it takes self-discipline. But while hating myself so much for staring at the screen and not writing, I feel like it's the too much love I have for myself that allows me to indulge in such laziness. Anybody out there reading this, say a little prayer for me, so that on Friday I'll be submitting these chains in Budapest and finally just be.
After coming back home I've started to realize more and more that all my M.A. year has been a delay of where I'll be getting now. Being afraid I won't get my diploma, I cannot feel its value added to my life. Except for the wonderful people I've been around, I guess I did hate it most of the times but was too proud to admit to myself that something I wanted so bad could go so wrong. I missed out on some employment opportunities by going away and now I'll probably be jobless for another half year at least. I want to go to the same master's I would've done last year, so it's like I just exited a time loop. Just one year older, extremely exhausted and tied up to a paper I never wanted to write. Not to mention my body is all screwed up because of the sedentary life and bad bad diet.
I am thrilled to be back home. In a weird way, I like living with my parents and having them breathe down my neck when I have work to do, asking questions about where I'm going or just reminding me of how I'm always annoyed by something and that I should stop. I like being taken care of, as much tough love that implies. I've started seeing people I've missed for so long and there are more I need to call (if only I were done with that stupid paper) and it is rather comforting to see how we've all started to move at different paces from some moment in time.
This summer I went to two weddings and it felt wonderful to dress up and have people tell me how I've grown so so pretty. I went hiking and when I came home the sky was no longer wide enough here and all I wanted to do was pack and move back to a tent at over 2000 meters. I went to see my grandparents and help out in the garden, pick fruits and play with children, met my childhood friends and amazed at how much we did actually grow up. Well, at least some of us. I went out and had shots and made all the wrong decisions and damn it was exciting. I went on late night walks and found a swing that's not too small for me and a boy who would never forget to show me the moon. Life is beautiful out there, beyond my stupid dissertation. As soon as I'm done, I can go back to feeling the magic. I can go dancing and wait for the sunrise, hell, it's open season soon.

Back to the future

Yes, the line of whiny personal posts continues. I just finished reading some pages I wrote two years ago and a few posts I deleted from the blog in between. There are no skeletons in my closet, they are full-fleshed demons. In my lines, I kind of stick to the same concerns: not knowing what I want, except for not wanting to become anything like my dad, being afraid, afraid of so much I have no time to list it all here, being single and how much I hate all the push-pull people play on me. I do have optimistic words sometimes. Fear is the mind-killer :D I hardly identify with that girl. All the right words are there in my head and now, knowing where all that led, I can tell her it was all worth it. That the big mistakes were fearsome responses to being deeply hurt. That all the people whose opinions she feared are no longer relevant. That she is and will be loved by all the right ones. That there are immense possibilities of bifurcations her life can take and that none is better than the other one and you can make the best of what you've got. That having slight feminist tendencies is not that bad ;) One thing I've noticed is that I never become a better person. Is there such thing?
Now I wish there was a blog post from the future to make me feel better. I've always been a lazy person and got away with it, but the past is only making me wonder if this time won't be an exception. I need someone to tell me I'll graduate this thing and that there are wonderful things waiting for me back home and if not, that I'll someday head to wherever they may be. It'd be comforting to get a hint of how foolish my fear is.