Day 73 – A story about nothing

What would a story about nothing sound like? Many, many years ago, I had to take a simple exam that would have assured me a very nice job. I was the best of the best and I had to take a written test and then have a final interview with two prestigious teachers. I was so confident, that I didn’t even bother to check my answers after the written exam and it turned out I was right: I did perfect. The next day, the day of the interview, I wasn’t nervous at all. I just went in and patiently waited my turn, having a huge smile on my face that said: “I got this!”. On the chair in front of me there was a small guy, about my age, that was biting his nails and whispering something to himself. I said hi to him although I knew it was between me and him; he was the enemy. After ten minutes they called us inside and our seats were next to each other while facing the two teachers. The room was a perfect square and the furniture included four chairs, a table between us and them, a huge library filled with heavy books and a giant clock on the wall in front of me. That clock was to become my nothing. First we had to introduce ourselves and I did a better job than the other guy, but the clock kept staring at me. The next step was a round of questions...

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Day 72 – The kind of person I “used” to be

I seem to be a very different person than I was three years ago. That is not even a little bit true, but because I am more constrained by time and life priorities than back then, this seems to be the general opinion (even mine sometimes). Today, me and my better half took a ride down the memory lane and remembered one of my adventures. I had just moved to Florence and everything seemed to shape in a natural way: nice house, nice job, lots of free time and lots of Martini’s after work hours. After six months, I got a little home sick and just wanted to jump on a plane and spend at least two hours in my beautiful Bucharest. Of course you can’t do that if you have no reason at all so, I started spending all my free time, browsing the internet to find any kind of event that needed my attention and presence back home. I couldn’t find anything for a long time and a lot of Martini drinks until… my favorite band posted an announcement that they will be singing in a private club two weeks from that date. I was set and my plan was being forged; I waited for D to come home and informed him that I had to, I just had to go to that concert, that it could be my last chance to see them perform and a lot of nonsense reasons which I can’t even remember right...

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Day 71 – Florence and I, hand in hand this weekend

This weekend I got to spend a lot of time downtown of Florence. I’ve missed that a lot; seeing the city, going out for coffee, meeting friends and working on my projects. It feels like everything is coming back to normal after a long time of misery. I love this city and I can’t imagine living anywhere else right now; I can’t say I will never leave it and I can never know what could pop out of the hat for us, but for now this city is a blessing for our lives, our art and our future. The buildings, the air, the possibilities and the culture here, makes me hope every day that there is a slight chance to succeed, that the Italian state won’t burry my ass in taxes and that at some point I can just relax and forget about paying rent and other “unnecessary” living expenses. I never say this, but ever since I am here, I started to actually want to finish my projects. I have always had stuff that I was writing on and small projects or books that I used to spend my time on, but I would never finish them. I have always gotten them to the finish line, but I was always afraid to cross that line; it was pointless. Florence gave me hope; I have no idea why, but it made me want to finish and go on, constantly whispering in my ear that nothing is in vain, that...

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Day 70 – The recipe for the perfect love affair

Over the years a lot of my friends and people who’ve met me and D, asked what’s our secret? Why all this happiness after thirteen years of being together? Where does it come from? Aren’t we bored yet? I tried to think of an answer, but every time I came out blank, because there is no answer or advice or secret we could share. What I am going to do is try to compare relationships with cooking (you’ve read it right: cooking). Whenever you start cooking something you love, you try to find the best ingredients for it. You will find the same exact ingredients in other recipes too, but combined in very different ways or with different spices added. Anyway, let’s assume we all love chocolate cake (I actually know people who don’t like it). Let’s further assume that we all try out the same chocolate cake, cooked in the same way, from the same bakery. At some point we will want to go and bake our own chocolate cake, because we don’t want to settle with just a taste or a piece, we want the whole thing for ourselves. So, we ask for the recipe and try to reproduce it. But when we get home and all the ingredients are nicely placed in front of us, we will try to make it even better, to melt our taste buds in pleasure even more than the one from the bakery did. Some of us will add more cinnamon,...

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Day 69 – Absolute solitude

The solitude in your head… that is your most precious friend and your worst enemy. You can have all your loved ones around you, family, friends, maybe children and the fortunate ones also have “the one”, but you are alone in your head and you will always be alone in there. There is no one who can tell for sure what highways or no ways are paved inside that thick skull and there are things that you don’t allow even to the dwarfs controlling your brain to see (big surprise, I believe dwarfs live in our heads). When the going gets tough, that solitude digs until it reaches your soul and it begins to play with your needs, your feelings, yourself. When the going gets wonderful, that solitude needs friends to share its joy and pride, but still it will enjoy a moment only for itself, to kiss its own metaphoric forehead. Your inner thoughts about situations, friends, people near you, behaviors, betrayals, love, are almost never the ones you share with the world around you. In fact, I think no one says the same thing to two different people if those people aren’t connected. The things you say to the family who raised you, will be slightly embellished than the raw ones you tell your lover for instance. The stuff you tell your friends will have a totally different shape than what you tell people you’ve just met. They will all feel as being the same, having the same meaning...

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Day 68 – Planes being shot down, waking up from a coma after 69 years and eating popcorn while watching the enemy getting bombarded

Today I wondered what the world is doing, so I made the mistake of searching some fresh news on the internet. What I’ve found made me regret I ever clicked the news button. D is the one who usually tells me what’s going on in the world, but I have to admit I don’t pay attention all the time and if there are murders or politics involved, my ears just fold in like Dumbo’s and I stop listening. So, what is the world doing? Apparently the whole world has gone mad. I found out that a plane, flight 17 of Malaysia Airlines, was shot down by a surface-to-air missile over Ukraine. It was carrying 280 passengers plus 15 crew members, all dead. What the fuck is wrong with people, if I can call the ones responsible, people. Is it that you wake up in the morning and say: “Okay, today I am going to be the absolute villain; let’s see, what can I do? Oh, I know, I should kill a bunch of people today and to make it worth my while I should shoot down a plane full of innocent ones! Yes, this is the best idea I had all week.” I don’t get politics, I never did and I have to admit that although I love a good war story, for me that’s exactly what it is, a story, because I never could accept that people can be evil just because they can. Also I never understood the need...

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Day 67 – Short women, the nightmare of the tall ones

It has always been like this: short women have always hated the advantages tall women have and vice versa. I, being in the latter category while growing up and becoming a woman, will of course talk about how great the short ones have it. I have always been too tall in my perspective (5f t8in) and I don’t know why, but all my female friends were 5ft 3in tall tops. Because I have practiced professional volleyball I have also encountered the really, ridiculously tall women and I admit I pitied them. I used to think if it’s hard for me, then it must be horrible for them. Let’s highlight just five reasons to why this phenomenon is happening and will keep happening: 1. When you are tall and teenager, you watch yourself in the mirror and think you are a freak. Your feet seem huge and every piece of clothing doesn’t fit exactly right; they are either for midgets or too large. If you want to act like a girl regarding wardrobe, then your luck is really over. You will look at all the other girls, the short ones and see their nice skirts and nice blouses and their 6 and 1/2 size shoes, in a perfect fit, drawing all the attention and the smiles; then you will look at yourself: yeah, your dress isn’t that horrible even if it’s for adults, but your shoes, oh your shoes, those are the ones who just curse your girliness away and show a perfect size...

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Day 66 – “Friends” addict

I am a huge Friends addict (any self respecting freak should be), the American sitcom that lasted a decade and still is one of the most popular show ever created. Such a simple story with such a huge impact: six friends, struggling with life’s issues relying only on themselves, while becoming a family. They’ve got me through college, than coping with moving from city to city and making new friends, staying close to the ones I loved regarding the distance, breakups, falling in love again, pregnancy and now… Every time I reach the final episode, I feel like I need to start all over again and get to know them even better (if that’s possible). I even learned almost all the drawings made on the Magna Doodle on Joey’s door (I won’t go and admit that I am too familiar with the lines from my favorite episodes; that would really make me a freak right?) Anyway, last night I finished watching it again, for the ten thousand time, and I had the instant urge to reach out for the mouse and put on the first episode from the first season; just to see how much they’ve changed in ten years. I didn’t, because every time I do that, I start all over again, either because they are too funny, or because I pretend not to remember some scenes. I tried to do that with other shows I liked, but this one seems to be the only one I can watch forever. Maybe this...

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Day 65 – I hate July and some witch cursed me

Oh, sweet month of July, I hate you so much; I wish this month would disappear and get on to the next one as fast as possible; tomorrow even. This house has become a hospital and it seems that sickness and pain are all feeling very welcome here. Me and D caught Ephia’s cold and we feel like a million bucks (if only). He is partially deaf and I can wake up the dead with my annoying, constant cough. These wonderful events that keep happening to us, don’t even get on my nerves anymore; I think I am starting to get used to them and accept our lame, unfortunate condition – but at least I can blame July for it. A friend of mine told me today that bad things happen to you when you do something wrong and they keep happening until you realize where is the problem. Well, I have no idea what I am doing wrong, but if anyone knows please let me know, I will try to stop. I for one, am beginning to believe in curses. They are very popular where I come from and people there still believe in witches, bad luck omens, curses and black magic. Even the generation my age, who are more skeptical, if given enough reasons, they will believe it’s true. So, who am I to argue? This would be the simplest explanation for all the things happening; or is it that we just have a bad month and that’s it?...

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Day 64 – Our “enormous” house

When we started searching for a house to rent in Florence, we knew exactly what we wanted. A two bedroom house with a big enough kitchen and a nice outdoor space to hang out in. One of the bedrooms was suppose to be our office and the furniture and arrangements were already established. The moment we stepped foot inside this house, we knew it was ours and I surprised myself saying out loud: “This is it! I want this one!”; of course we had to convince the owners, but other than that everything was exactly as planned. One of the bedrooms was completely empty and waiting for our dream office to come true and the huge garden outside was waiting for us to try out its benches. I remember that after signing the contract, one of the owners said the empty room was perfect for a baby and I quickly disapproved: “No, we are not planning on having children; that room will be my office to write in.” Well, what can I say, I found out a couple of weeks after we signed the contract that the room in question will be in fact the baby’s room and although we were not planning, it seems that she planned herself, so bye bye dream office and extra space. Ever since then, although I still love this house, I felt like it was smaller than I initially saw it. D has to contort himself, in a very uncomfortable armchair to work...

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