Again, another year is gone and I’m looking back at what happened. Judging by my photos on Facebook, it seems like it was a GOOD year all around.
Well, I’m asking for less and less, as time goes by and faith smacks me over the head with various surprises.
But all in all, pretty good! Starting from the fact that I have a job I like, in a place I like surrounded by people I like, continuing with “none of my cats died and they seem to do just well”, I’m pretty healthy too, I fell in love with Pilates – there’s been 3 months already since I’m diligently going, my stomach became smarter than my brain and it rejects what’s bad for me, I began to choose more carefully who’s worth my emotional investment and time, just one holiday in Berlin, fewer memorable concerts: Rod Stewart and Hugh Laurie, but maybe next year will be richer in travels and concerts.
Less shopping, but more wise decisions – choosing a few statement pieces instead of buying rags.
It was a year of surprises, reunions with friends from long ago, childhood and university. It was both mushy and happy, we instantly clicked and laughed our heads off at the same old jokes. It was very emotional and truly unforgettable.
I feel the entire humanity is trying to crawl out of the pit: people are beginning to distillate information – not anything on TV or on the internet is true, I feel the dark ages are fading and a new era is dawning.
I meet very young people who are cultured. They know so many interesting things, that I feel like a caveman. So my hope stays with them, a new generation with an insatiable appetite for music, art, movies, but also technology and gadgets… it’s amazing to listen to them. And it’s not just one or two, they keep coming. They are environmental conscious, without being maniacs, they lean naturally toward healthy living, healthy feeding, healthy ethics and morals.
Electing a completely unexpected president is another reason for hope. He has German roots, he was a very appreciated mayor of a beautiful city, he didn’t accept euthanasia of the dogs, but he approved the western system of catch and release, he has a wife who obviously adores him and 5 cats. I hope and pray he will be the President this country needs and deserves after so many years of corruption and such bad decisions.
I feel very optimistic for the future, it’s a completely different vibe in the air.
Enjoy the ride!
Yup, long time, no writing. Because of bad times and good times.
What determined me to write again was this thing I saw one of these days: a lady dragging a dog in a leash and a guy walking side by side with his dog, leash being mostly ornamental.
I encourage every person to keep his or her dog on a leash, for safety reasons. Even the most well behaved dog can jump startled by a car horn or a sudden noise, an unexpected association of a color or a shape with a potential danger.
Hence all the lost dogs posted on Facebook.
Yet this post is not about dogs basically. It was just a strong visual that generated the thought. The lady dragging the leash was obviously in a dysfunctional relationship with her dog, miscommunication, lack of patience and skill from the human, bewilderment and stress from the dog. The other couple, the guy and the dog walking side by side – perfect match, harmony, balance, patience and understanding.
Human relationships are much the same. Abuse can have many manifestations, some not so obvious as beating or other forms of trauma. Taking a person for granted, expecting them to behave in a certain way, without ever ever ever enunciating your rules of engagement, and being frustrated “they just don’t get it.”
This applies in all sorts of interactions: lovers, friends, workmates, parents – children, store clerk – client.
Speak up, be sincere, be clear, ask for what you want. Listen, understand, try to meet the requests.
BUT it’s not that easy. Sometimes you think you know what you want and you ask for what you want and yet… Maybe you don’t know what you want, maybe you’re scared to speak up, maybe the truth hurts. Maybe you don’t want to admit what you want.
So everything goes sour. Dysfunctional relationships core.
So every step of the way, know thyself, don’t torment your close ones because YOU have issues. Fight your own battles by yourself, don’t make innocent victims on the way.
Don’t abuse your partner, your best friend, your parent / child because you are unhappy with yourself.
Don’t blame anyone for your failures, learn to say “it’s MY fault”. It hurts like hell, but it heals faster.
Wow, a lot of don’ts in this piece, let’s try some dos:
Do appreciate what you have, cherish the people that cherish you, thank God for your qualities, your good health (when applied), your lucky breaks, your successes, pets, sunrises, music, whatever can make you happy.
Have an innocent crush, have a hot affair, have a fling, have a passion, have a shitload of passions, live, LIVE. No regrets for the past, no worries for the future.
… a perfect hour in the morning, when it’s still a bearable temperature.
While sipping my creamy exquisite espresso, I leaf through pages of design and style, and I recollect the Italian film that charmed me as a teenager, when I didn’t have my own love stories and I craved on fictional ones, even sad ones, when love dies and Venice crumbles.
And life happens to be absolutely completely flawless.
For an hour. In the morning.
I represent my sign with a rigor worthy of a better cause.
Just in 24 hours, two of my best friends called me “mother of all bitches” and completely “Samantha” (the character from SATC who behaves like a ruthless man hunter).
The first statement was due to utter surprise, because I was all mushy about a wedding. I like both the bride and the groom and I really truly believe they are the real deal, not just a cliche.
I was gratulated with an incredulous “YOU of all people?!”
Whaaat? I have a heart, I’m not all bitch. And against all odds, I told you before, I’m a romantic. I do believe in true love.
I just don’t believe in forever. I believe in a moment of passion, of shared joy. Actually time has nothing to do with it. Forget about it completely.
Hold on to the words, the laughters, the caresses, the things you both like and discuss till dawn, the completely natural and uninhibited way you make love, when nothing seems out of place, the perfect choreography that celebrates love.
Recently I read an article written by a famous sociologist who was very upset that she hears more and more often the expression “just sex”. She says it’s demeaning. It’s true.
There’s no such thing as “just sex”. It’s desire, prelude, courtship, flirting, passion, performance… It’s no “just” involved.
Well, unless you are really unlucky and he’s “just this long”, or she’s performing “just” boring sex.
Wow! See? I’m dual! In almost the same paragraph, I turned from softie to bitch. Told ya!
Went to my beloved London. Loved me back as always. Visited Hamptons Court for a Katie Melua concert.
Overwhelmed by the atmosphere. The music, the wind, the castle… amazing.
Saw Lion King, the musical. Clapped my hands like a euphoric child.
Ate great food, walked till my legs were swollen like tractor tires, laughed my head off, had beer and stuffed with various types of chocolate cake.
Bought great jeans from GAP, according to tradition. Bought stupid things just because they were in London. Didn’t mind.
Came back. Saw Rock of Ages. Reminded me of teenage and youth. I mean youth in years, ’cause I don’t feel a day older than 14.
Started aqua gym. Got a tan. Look and feel great. Gathered great pictures & great memories.
Don’t even bother with political games that poison the social networks and mass media. I don’t believe any of this shit. They induce paranoia, it’s all just make-belief, no stake, no gain, no loss, no control.
Heard about 3 people that had strokes. All three around my age. Two recovered, one is in a coma.
A former colleague of mine died under suspicious circumstances. Overdose or suicide. Much younger than me.
I don’t want to end up like this.
On the other hand, I don’t believe half of the suddenly illuminated people around me. They get it wrong or they just hide behind a cool ideology.
I try to live a beautiful life and remain quasi sane.
Let’s take it from the top.
It seems there are 4 types of stories:
extraordinary stories about extraordinary people
extraordinary stories about ordinary people
ordinary stories about extraordinary people
ordinary stories about ordinary people
The last one is hardest to make interesting. From this point of view, Seinfeld is amazing. It’s a story about NOTHING with ordinary people. OK, I admit it’s indisputable value.
However, MASH is about extraordinary people in extraordinary circumstances, trying to stay sane in the midsts of chaos. The humor is different and the heroes are inspirational. Heroes in the original sense of the word. They survive the horror with pranks, sex and alcohol. They don’t become mean and selfish, but continue to save lives, to recognize good from evil and so on.
Yesterday a friend of mine told me I have the uncanny ability to identify the “good” in people and an equal disability to distinguish mean and ugly. Well, this pleases me immensely.
During the weekend I attended a seminar on discrimination. At one point, the speaker mentioned fairy tales, where the princess patiently waits for her prince to save her and this is not healthy for the little girls.
First of all, I wrote on this subject long ago. Second, I disagree. At least as a child, she should believe there’s a prince somewhere. She has an entire life of disappointments afterward.
Even at this age, I do believe in heroes. No, not in the Prince Charming that comes to my rescue. This is bullshit. But I believe in Superman and Hawkeye Pierce. I believe in people with minor flaws and major qualities, people who can make a difference, extraordinary people with extraordinary stories.
For me, my superheroes are my beloved ladies who have infinite resources of strength and beauty to save animals. I recharge from their shining light and I feel better about myself just because i’m allowed in their presence.
I admire the artists I know, because I’m rich and filled with joy to listen to their music or watch their works of art. Most of them are narcissistic selfish creatures, but I don’ give a fuck. I love them as artists, they are so much more necessary to this species than some mediocre decent people.
So there you go: I’m surrounded by Seinfeld characters every day: mean, petty, stupid. So I need the sanctuary of heroes. That’s why I prefer M.A.S.H.