sâmbătă, 27 decembrie 2014

My parents are insane. The chronicles Chapter VI

Dear friend,
I’m really tired talking to a machine all day long so I am going to start writing to you and pretend I have to go down to the post office and mail a letter every once in a while.
I’ve decided to talk to you about my parents who are completely mental.
I sometimes fantasize I leave to work in the morning, something really amazing happens and I just don’t come back home, ever.
Today is the 27th of December, I had to stay home for the holydays which drove me completely insane. We stayed in because my mother decided to be mad, for no reason at all. She was mad at us, she barely spoke to me or my dad and sat in bed all day long watching TV.
I’ve gotten so used to keeping myself busy over the last three months that I came to a point of not being able to just lie in bed and watch movies and eat junk food like I used to. Which, incidentally makes me feel a lot happier than I used to be. These two days were the death of me. I was so bored I wanted to blow my brains out only so that I could scrape them off the wall and have something to do.
I made the insane mistake to remark as such in a loud voice, in the vicinity of my mother’s ears.
What came next, left me completely perplexed for at least an hour.
My mother started screaming at me “If you would’ve taken us to the mountains you wouldn’t be bored now.”
I said “Mom, why didn’t you say you wanted to go out?”  Especially since the day before I asked her if she wanted to go to the country and she refused with a barely mumbled “No.” that got me figured she was in one of her moods and just wanted to stay in.
As a response I got more yelling “Because you’re you and you would’ve said you don’t want to, or that you have stuff to do. You’re the one how should’ve said something.”
I really feel like I need to mention the fact that I’m not a mind reader. Of course if I had said something she wouldn’t have wanted to go because nothing was planned out from a day before.

So let’s see what we have until now, shall we? My mom wants everything to be perfectly planned out without her actually saying anything and when she does open her mouth is just so she can reproach to you that you didn’t do something you didn’t even know about.
Now what am I supposed to do with that new discovery except for actually blowing my brains out?

Love always,
Laura 

sâmbătă, 16 august 2014

WAKE UP



Yeah, I tried my best to come up with a title for this post and this is all I could find mostly because I’m baffled by what’s happening to Romanian women, and women all over the world, no doubt.
I have a thirst for traveling and I feel like crying that I can walk thru the streets of New York, see the fabulous  French cafés, or experience the colors of India only on Google street view … for now anyway.
And no, I haven’t been to other countries to see if this crazy phenomenon that’s happening on my homeland, it’s happening anywhere else as well, but I am writing this for every woman out there who thinks she needs to sell herself in any way for material stuff.
I came over a post, today, that gave me chills. I realized how many powerful women fought for us in their own – at that time – insignificant way and how many of us do not exploit the legacy that they have left us.

The only thing a woman wanted was to run in the Boston Marathon and she had the strength to do so. Maybe we should take a minute and wonder if it wasn’t for her, would we have women athletes at all?
This post started out of my own anger an outrage but while I’m typing I’m thinking it’s not only about that, It’s about our future, it’s about our dignity, it’s about having something to be proud of.
We are the most magnificent creatures on thin planet. We have the power to bring life into the world and we let ourselves be manipulated by the idea of fame and money.
We stare at the TV every goddamn day and they tell us we’re not good enough, we’re not pretty enough, we don’t have enough money to be our own person so we sell ourselves, we starve ourselves, we dye our hair and paint our nails, we buy shit we don’t need for the prospect of being a better us, a perfect us. To achieve an idyllic perfection that nobody can achieve and we lose ourselves in this whole conundrum, we get deviated from doing great things.
I wanted to write something especially for the women in my country. For the past five years, or so, there has been a Muslim migration and a lot of women have been seduced by whatever those men have to offer them and now every day. Every fucking day I see Romanian women, white women, subject themselves to that whole hijab thing, covering their faces, not being able to do ANYTHING but raise the children, not being able to leave the house except with the children, not being able to peruse a dream or a passion because the religion of the man you chose to marry, forbids it. I’d like to think that these types of marriages took place out of love as well, maybe they had a calling, maybe these women were born to be mothers and nothing more. But that’s too optimistic so I won’t get my hopes up.
Most likely these marriages took place because of a desperate need for liberation and freedom. And yes I know that doesn’t sound logical when you say it out loud. But the way I came to this conclusion is the following: many people think freedom is money, happiness is money, things that give you any kind of satisfaction are things that you need money for and these men can provide only one thing: MONEY and the only thing that money does in this case is lock you up, clip your wings and wipe the smile from your face. And I’m not writing this because my run around with religion or because I’m a racist.
WAKE UP, YOU ARE SELLING YOURSELF so you can buy a pair of shoes that I can’t afford and I can guarantee you that I’m happier with my 35 lei pair of sneakers that you are in your 400 euros pair of Jimmy Choo’s that nobody is able to see anyway.
I’m not saying having fancy things is wrong. There’s a saying in my country “the fox that can’t reach the grapes, says they’re bitter” and this is not the case. FIGHT! Earn your own money, buy the things you want and feel proud walking down the street, be happy, be yourself, BE FREE! Because right now you’re nothing but a housekeeper who’s paid in fancy stuff and I’m sure the goal behind marrying into a religion that ostracizes women was exactly the fear of not becoming a housekeeper.
And if this doesn’t convince you, than think about this: there are women in Muslim countries that are fighting tooth and nail against this, women who are fighting for your freedom, women who are beaten and raped and eventually killed only so that YOU can have your free will.
Ladies, stop subjecting yourselves to torturous changes only so that you can be what society thinks you have to be.
 YOU ARE THE SOCIETY! You can set the impossible standards or you can cut them loose. You and only you can let you be yourselves!
Next, I’ll post some pictures of powerful and beautiful women from the article I told you about.






miercuri, 26 februarie 2014

The pressure of the ticking clock



There are these stages in a normal girl’s life when she concentrates on certain things.
Of course the one thing her life revolves around is always going to be the opposite sex, no doubt about it. From 10 to 14 you want to be around guys so you’ll be the cool kid who’s playing football and learning how to spit. From 14 to 18 you can’t really thing about anything but guys because that’s what your hormones say. From 18 to 23 you’re having boyfriends because that’s the normal thing to do and after that RELATIONSHIPS, big scary word with a lot of intricate knots.
But what about the individual? The girl, the person?
I say 30 is the limit. The age you draw the line for drunken parties, the carefree lifestyle, the summer in Vama Veche, the art classes, the girls nights out. After that you’re just a lame old hag who wants to relive her golden days.
This is why I’ll make my friends promise they’ll never drag me to one of these shindigs after I turn 30 no matter how much I love the sea.
After 30 you climb up the social and professional ladder and start making something of yourself.
That’s how I see a modern woman.
I hate seeing twenty something girls dragging crying toddlers after them in the park when I’m there reading my book on the freshly cut grass and smoking my Lucky Strike’s blue. And I’m not saying “hate” in the sense that I pity them, but I hate their nagging glances, their judging glances or from time to time their “where did I go wrong” glances.
The judging glances come from their utter “proudness” of being a mother. Yes, kids are great. I plan of having a house full myself and I love the children at the kindergarten like they’re my own and I pain every time I skip a session cause I admire how their brains work, how creative they can be, how fear free. But gully gee, I can’t take care of myself at this age, how the hell could I take care of a kid?
Plus I’m afraid that at this stage I’d name my kids Sid and Nancy and put blue dye in their hair which would immediately end up with them in the foster system.
But is my thinking throwing me back or propelling me forward?
Every time I start up a conversation with one of my girls we end up talking about our jobs. We’re not making enough money, we’re not buying pretty things or go to cool places because we’re not making enough money, we’re not happy because we’re not buying pretty things and we turn up thinking of seeing shrinks because we’re not happy.
Shit! If I knew from the womb that the world and my own happiness will revolve around money I would’ve dropped hints to my mother to get me an Ivy fucking League education since I was 2 months old. I would’ve become a bad ass lawyer or a bank manager and all my dreams would come true.
And while we’re in the Mary-go-round our lives fly past us like they were never there.
Am I the only person in this whole God forsaken world who thinks money is not that important?
Put me in the Art Museum one day a week and I’m happy as a clam. 32. 32 fucking lei a month to be happy. Is that so hard to accomplish?
Sure, I enjoy the occasional movie, but that can be done with 0 money at home. Plus the 2 lei on the huge bag of popcorn from Kaufland that nobody can ever finish. And at home you have the advantage of talking and also not hearing the asshole next to you talking on his phone.
When did these people who think they need money to be happy just put on some Velvet Underground, lay on the floor and smoked a cigarette like is 1984?
I’m happy in the park. My God, I’m happy in the park. I like to roll down the hill in freshly cut grass or snow any time of the year.
The point is: we’re so preoccupied with living our lives in style that we forget to live our lives period.
I forget that sometimes as well and I’m sad. And I feel like I’m being rejected by society because I don’t have a grown up job, like advertising or economics, instead I play around in watercolors with kids and go to work in my ripped up jeans and my leather jacket and a book stuffed down my back pocket.
Let me tell you something about my book in my back pocket: I made a plan, with a friend who’s so obsessed with her work she sentb me home after waiting for her in the center for half a day. As I was walking back thru the park with my book and my jacket, so mad, that I have forgotten to put on my head phones, there were two kids behind me, “whispering” so loud the entire alley could hear them.
“Look at the boots, those are cool boots.” The boy said. “I like her hair.” Whispered the girl. “No you fool that’s how is in fashion these days. It’s her phone or her tablet.” Said the boy. And I understood that they were talking about the book in my back pocket. As I arrived to my favorite reading spot in the park I pulled out the item. “Awwww it’s a book, that’s cool.” The little girl exclaimed. After I sat down they passed in front of me so the boy said, as loud as he could “But she’s so beautiful.”
Yup.  That was a beautiful moment.
 And maybe I, in my own way, let my life fly past me for not getting an upstanding job or looking to get hitched but to me the little things are important and I have plenty of those. 
Do I feel pressured by the ticking clock? Yes I do, because society norms dictate that I should. Am I going to start freaking out? No I won't. 

duminică, 12 ianuarie 2014

My insomnia in too many words

I hate my brain! My brain is insane and doesn't let me sleep. I plant my head on the pillow and my arm starts itching, then my neck because I was too lazy to braid my hair so I get up and braid my fucking hair I flop around like a fish out of the water when suddenly my pillow gets too hard and bumpy. I fluff my pillow and turn around, when I turn I land on a fold in the blanket. I pull the blanket from under me and pull it on top of me but the blanket is too short and my feet are cold which means the fucking blanket is with the long part on the sides so I push it up with my legs and after a couple of minutes of tossing and turning I manage to make it right but from all that flopping around my hair gets loose and my pillow gets a case of the bumpies AGAIN!
My pillow gets a case.....case, pillow...pillow case...get it? Ha ha ha. Yeah it's 3:00 am, let me see you write a fucking coherent blog after 5 hours of not managing to go to sleep.
I fix the bloody pillow and the fucking hair. Finally...everything is in order but ooooh look the moon is soooo shiny I can see it through my drapes.
The moon...
It's not a full moon.
I love the full moon, is so mystical.
Mysticism...yeah, the best spells are performed under a full moon.
I tried to do a sell once, who the fuck didn't. It wasn't like in the movies, that much I can tell you.
Movie, movie, movie. The movie I've seen tonight was STU-PID! I love Sylvester Stallone but MY GOD he should really find another job. Jesus fucking Christ each and every one of his movies are alike.
Actually all the movies these days are alike.
The TV shows too. I mean I was watching Bones and realized Goddamn it's just like The Mentalist...and Castle, even the actresses look alike. I can never tell the difference between these girls, who the fuck is who?
I tell you I haven't seen an original episode since Regan was president.
Even Supernatural betrayed me and stole a concept from Doctor Who AND YOU THOUGHT WE WOULDN'T NOTICE! HA!
It was from the Matt Smith Doctor who.....Damn I miss David Tennant. They should make the Doctor find a way to regenerate with David's face.
Speaking of TV shows. Remember that episode from Supernatural when Sam wasn't able to sleep cause Lucifer was singing Ramble On in his head. God I wish I had Mark Pelegrino singing Ramble on, maybe I could get some sleep.
OOOOhhhh man how about the episode before that where Satan kept on talking to Sam but he wouldn't reply until he got clocked on the head. AY CARAMBA MI CABEZA! Now that was funny.
Speaking of witch: What the fuck happened to my Spanish. I distinctly remember I had a good grasp of the Mexican kind of Spanish when I was younger. Where did that go? Is there like a secret door with a super secret combination behind which you lock up all the stuff you learned and never used again?
Like in that test at that interview when I had to do math...let's just say I couldn't do math to save my life and I was pretty good in high school.
OH MY GOD! Do I remember the baggie pants I use to wear in high school? Jesus! What the fuck was I thinking? I thought I was cool...I wasn't. I was a huge giant nerd. If I were a geek in an american high school I would kick my own ass and take my lunch money.
And speaking of comic books which super power is better? Flying or invisibility? Giving the fact That I want to see the world flying seems better, but then again with the invisibility I could sneak on planes and go wherever the hell I want ON PLANES, I love planes.
I saw that documentary about my dad's uncle Paul Mitu what do you think those people thought when the plane was going down. Man I have a real life hero in my family and I never met him. That's a bummer.
Speaking of names Max Medina. Where do I know that name from and why did it pop into my head.
It's from a TV show but what TV show. Think Laura THINK!
I think it was Pretty Little Liars. Why the hell did I even watch that show.
WAIT ! NO! This Max character was a professor and the professor in Pretty Little Liars was called ...something else...that's not important. What's important right now is to sleep. UH OH! Max Medina was from Gilmore Girls.
Gilmore Girls is Dana's favorite show. What's Dana doing now? I miss her. On the other hand Sisi gets to stay in Romania so that's a good thing. Yeah, I'm happy about that.

And this goes on and on and on and on and on and ooooon and.....
until I kick the blanket off, go to the kitchen, smoke ten thousand and twenty one cigarettes, drink a bowl of coffee and start writing this blog.