Sunday, January 29, 2006
We went out on Wednesday night, as you know. We had planned to meet at 10 p.m. and I had thought there would have been plenty of time for me to have dinner, take a shower, get my hair done and all the rest.. Yeah. The light went off at 8.45. No hot water, no hairdryer, no LIGHT!!
Ok, girl, think of McGyver and solve this problem...
Setting the house on fire with some petrol and a match was a bit too zealous of a solution just to have the mirror well lit in order to wear some make up...
I stuffed a bag with some clothes, cosmethics, underwear, shoes and off I went, in the chilly night, to get a shower at my mom's. Needless to say, I was in a desperate hurry, and all my efforts to relax before our meeting disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Thanks to the god of hastiness and in spite of all the mess I had left behind me, we really spent a nice evening chatting and laughing and so. He turned out to be quite similar to what I had imagined, which means sensitive, funny, smart and quiet. I felt at ease right from the start, we sat very close thought I felt so comfortable I couldn' believe it. I mean, I'm not familiar with being so "phisically" at ease with strangers, so I was quite surprised.
When we took me back to my car I thought he was going to kiss me. He didn't.
Which disappointed me a bit at first, even if I still can't tell if I wanted him to do it or not.
(oh, I know you think I'm nuts... don't waste your time calling a shrink, I'm already seeing one...)
Anyway driving back home I thought it was better that way, it made things simpler to manage for me and blah blah. And most of all I thought I was so naive to expect things to always end up in such an expected way.
On Thursday morning he sent me an email and I found out he had felt the same about being so at ease, relaxed and...all the rest!
He really wanted to kiss me, but restrained himself as he didn't want to "spoil anything".
Lord, I thought, he is *so* cautious... this is no subject for us to talk, this is something that should either happen or not, I'm not going to chat over it!! So I dropped the argument and on we went with our daily mail routine.
Nice start so far, you could think. And it was.
I mean, apart from the fact that he pried into my blog, found my answer to rQm comment (which was actually meant to be ironic) and put up such a fight (via e-mail, my goodness...) that I almost cried in anger!
I'll spare you the dramatic details, but somehow we made it through this and planned to meet on Saturday night.
He volunteered an Indian dinner at his flat and a movie on the couch. Yeah. Right. Know what you're all thinking. Only Little Red Riding Hood would have believed it. I mean, "a movie on the couch"... come on...
But, as he really gave me the impression to be a bit shy, I thought I could take the risk and maybe stop him gently if I didn't want anything to happen. Look, he's nice and caring and stuff, but he's not exactly the kind of person I could have a long relationship with. Not anymore. He strongly reminds me of the person I was only a few years ago, so cautious and picky at the same time... I don't know, this is something that really makes me feel awkward..
random thought --After Mr.I-don't-love-you-Charmes, I'm afraid I'll end up engaged with some cutie pie like Hulk or He-man.. you know, not to loose that "I'm in such a fury I could kill you" treatment which seemed to be my cup of (poisoned) tea in the last two months with him...
So on Saturday night I went to Thomas' flat carrying a bottle of wine, the worst creme caramel I've ever made and a lot of wrong impressions in my head.
He opened the door and kissed me gently on the lips. Simple as this. And I felt a perfect moron. Good start, girl, good start.
We had dinner - a delicious chicken madras with basmati rice - talked a lot and then chilled out on the couch, listening to music and talking over and over. Two glasses of red wine had made me drowsy and a bit too easygoing but I really felt good, as I couldn't fear anything from him.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAAAHHH!!!! You've never laughed so hard, have you?
Well, I won't go into any detail (no, I won't, don't insist!) but we had some 4 hours of really great sex. He wasn't really different in bed, I mean, still very very sensitive and stuff, but he showed some more... ehm... male energy, I'd say!
So this is the news. After 25 days of mourning I had sex with a nice man and I deeply enjoyed it.
My scars are still so tender and I'm more fragile than ever. The very thought of Mr.Charmes has me suffering for all I've lost.
But at least one thing is for sure. There are men out there who are willing to treat me right and make me queen for a night, even if they're not in love with me. Because I'm good enough to be cared for.
Thomas calls me "Gorgeous", and even if I know he's somehow kiddin, I'm happy he does. I need to be chased up a bit, with no strings attached or serious relationships, only genuine passion and friendship.
So, this is how it goes at the moment. I do need to put some order in my heart and mind. While I wait for Wolverine to come and marry me..
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
The show must go on
He's Sam's ex-boyfriend and she gave me his email address as I needed some information about an English Test I'd like to take in June. He addressed me to the school where he works and yesterday night I had my evaluation test. Much to my delight and surprise it seems I'm ready for CAE certification..Jeez, I couldn't believe it... I drove back home faster than lightning and called Sikbros to share the happiness and thrill! (You too can party with me if you wish! Just raise your glasses and toast my results!!!)
Anyway, one thing leads to another, so he immediately noticed my smart sense of humour, my intelligence, my funny side, my sensitiveness and all the things you friends already know so well. I even think he smelled my perfume over the net, as he has suddendly started to sound a bit... how can I say that... intrigued!
I know what you're all thinking: he's dumber than a squirrel and clearly suffers from allucinations. Yeah, thanks so so much. The truth is that - according to Sam - he is really cool, intelligent and ... he's mother-tongue English!
In my brain things happen to work like this:
- he speaks English=he's the sexiest man in the world
- he thinks I'm cool=he's crazy. But I don't want to discriminate crazy people, so if he asks me out, I'll go.
What do you mean "your brain needs a check-up"????
We'll meet tomorrow evening for the first time.
I don't know his face. Don't even know his voice, yet. So far we've just wrote tomes by email and have come to like each other quite a lot.
All kidding aside (who was kidding??), I know this may sound a bit weird but I don't know if I'm more excited about the exam-to-be or about my blind date tomorrow...
I'd better sort out my priorities a bit, uh?
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Anyway, if you check the other results you'll agree with my choice. Unless you're 15 (and want to date Harry) or 85 (and want to date Dumbledore)...
When I heard it I thought: "This strucks me! Someone should tell Tarantino... The Bride could be banned from the screen... or labelled as a science-fiction cheater!!"
But after my worries about poor Quentin's work, I started wondering whether this theory was reliable or not.
"let's see... what would I do if I met someone I really blame? Someone who disrespected me, who made me suffer, who tried to ruin my life?" A face appeared through the mist in my mind. The face of a person who stole my trust and my work, sold out my friendship and then simply walked away. She will be the absolute protagonist in a future post, as for now I'll dub her Rama. Just thinking of her makes me want to hold her.. very very tight.. makes me want to stretch my fist.. ehm..hands out to her... I linger on thoughts of kindness and care... want to show her my feelings.. "my dear, make yourself at ease and take a seat.."
AHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! (...evil laugh while she screams in pain)
oh...!! were you still there? all of you?? ehm... what were we talking about?
oh, yes...Revenge... Well, as I'm clearly the less revengeful person in the world, this scientific result could apply to me but... is it really true? What do you think about it?
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Under the sea
If you really want to go for a big one, ladies and gentlemen, here's my fear for jaws and whales.
Don't know where it comes from. No one in my family has ever showed any sign of it.
I live in a nice town on the Mediterranean sea and, believe me, nothing even faintly whale-looking could ever meet my eye underwater. We usually go to the beach from April/May to October depending on how warm spring/fall is.
Well, in spite of all this living-at-the sea attitude I've panicked for years at the mere sight of the smallest of the fishes. Screamed if touched by a single straw of seaweed. Gasped at the thought of a single tiny jellyfish at 200 mt from me.
Learning to swin properly and fighting the fear for deep water have so become the strongest of my needs. This is my third season at the swimming pool and since the first lesson I've fallen in love with it. Now I couldn't live without swimming and crave water as a mermaid.
That said, you could think my fear is gone. You sweet people..!!
I realized that, in the end, there must be no connection at all between water and fishes, as my shark-o-phobia happens to be stronger than ever... it must clearly depend on something else.. much deeper than deep water, maybe!
Anyway I feel triumphant... at least I can post a picture like that without falling from the chair panick-stricken, shaking and cold sweating.
Yep, friends, you're right... that's not me, not yet...(even if I wonder how you guessed it....).You see? It's quite easy to get rid of our fears.. it's just a question of time...and good will!
And now excuse me but I have some "rattling on the floor with my eyes rolling and my mouth full of foam" to get done...
Friday, January 13, 2006
Money's too tight to mention
During the last 5 years my financial situation has slowly but restlessy got worse and worse.
I lost my job in 2002 and though I immediately started a new one my salary was so ridiculous that I had to spend all I had saved. In April 2004 I found my current job which is a bit better but not so much in the end.
In the meantime Italy has gone through the worst government we've ever had after fascism. Our prime minister is a complete disaster, useful and beneficial as genital herpes when you're on a honeymoon, he's only good in taking care of his and his friends' business and is letting the country fall down a cliff. The coming of the Euro has given a good chance to all the dishonest and shameless dealers to double their prices. Clothing, shoes, food. Everything costs at least twice their previous price in Lira. Salaries haven't raised and temporary employments are the only kind of job you can get now. Don't even want to mention all the big and small scandals in economy and politics we've had to witness lately. I think many of you already know, and I get sick just thinking of that. He's obviously not the only one to blame but this would lead us to a wider speech and I don't feel like facing it now.
We've never known such a hard time. He's trying to make Italy look like the US as for flexibility in jobs and in medical assistance (which is definitely worse than ours), but he only succeded in stealing the worker's rights and impoverishing the whole nation. It might be hard to understand for a foreigner (even more so if it's me explaining... gosh, I really wish I knew this language more than I do!) but the estate market is collapsing, families are - still - the only organizations able to give help and support. As if we needed some more mommy-addiction, for God's sake! It's almost impossible to meet a man without having to deal with his mom (in presence or not it doesn't change much... but this is leading us out of the way..)
I mean, nothing to complain in having some help from my parents.. and I go crazy at the mere thought of how hard my life would have been if I hadn't them on my side in the last years but...
Jeez, I've worked since I was 19. I never ever asked them a single cent and I wouldn't have had if they hadn't been the wonderful people they are. But now, in my 30s, after more than 10 years of my independent life, here we are with this humiliating condition. I have a decent job, a decent house, a decent life.. but a definitely indecent bank account. It's dryer than the desert. And I know lots of people have to manage with similar or worse situations.
I'm dying to have a house of my own. To have something "heavy" to rely on. I know everything is transient. I can even relate to Gospel words
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
The Fab Four
Four jobs I've had:
- employee in a medical laboratory
- operator in a customer care call center
- teacher for cooking lessons (unlike the one in the painting, I do not teach meat cooking..)
- factotum (assistant, counsellor, baby sitter and so on) for my present boss
Four movies I could watch over and over:
* Manhattan Murder Mystery by Woody Allen
* And now... for something completely different by Monty Python
* The Piano by Jane Campion
* Mediterraneo by Gabriele Salvatores
Four places I've been on vacation:
- A small place in the mountains in France
I actually live in a place where lots of people come on vacation, it's so easy to feel on a holiday here!!
Four websites I visit every day:
- my favourite blogs (which are more than 4!!)
- online news (mostly Repubblica)
- the superficial
- pizza (the real italian one or a homemade... everything but that awfully stuffed pie they have in the US... sorry guys, but my Italian roots combined with my passion for food are definitely powerful!)
- chocolate cake
- spinach lasagne (or the standard lasagne with tomato sauce)
- swimming pool
- a cafeteria with a few good friends and a cup of hot chocolate (hey!! will you stop reading my mind?? hide that pic, for Heaven's sake!!!! HIDE IT!!!!)
- attending an English lesson
Monday, January 09, 2006
This time the title of the post IS the post.. I want to sing this song out loud, want to taste every single word on the tip of my tongue as if it were a drop of bittersweet chestnut honey.
I don't really feel like writing that much, I don't want to state things that I could totally change in just a few hours. My mind's not at rest, though. I'm working my brains out to find a way out of this marsh.
If I go on justifying him on everything he does I'll never learn anything.
And if I go on repressing my rage I'll blow up as a firework. Not so funny, is it?
So I decided to vent, think, swear, compulsive shop, meditate, see friends and all that just when I want and how I want. I'm granting myself 15 minutes of anarchy, as my brother would say.
So, my dear blog folks, turn down the lights, pump up the volume and prepare yourself to sing with me to the top of your lungs...
I hope you`re feeling happy now
I see you feel no pain at all it seems
I wonder what you`re doin` now
I wonder if you think of me at all
do you still play the same moves now
or are those special moods for someone else
I hope you`re feeling happy now
just because you feel good
doesn`t make you right, oh no
just because you feel good still want you here tonight
does laughter still discover you
I see through all those smiles that look so right
do you still have the same friends now
to smoke away your problems and your life
oh how do you remember me, the one that made you laugh until you cried
I hope you`re feeling happy now
just because you feel good doesn`t make you right, oh no
just because you feel good
still want you here tonight
Thursday, January 05, 2006
And for me to think about something else who's not Mr.I-Don't-Love-You and his bearded face. WTF!
Lot of books have been written about Oedipus and Electra complex. Zillions of people can relate to that.
But what about us, sisters lost in worship for their brothers? I know there's some of you out there, chicks, don't try to hide..
My brother is, that goes without saying, the most smart, funny, sensitive guy in the world. He's flawless. Apart from being complicated, messy, basically unorganized and - God forgive - a heavy smoker. But I'm the only one who can criticize.. I almost killed people for much less than a bad word on him!
When he was born, the story says I bossed my parents around to name him after my daddy's father. They wanted to keep grandparents out of the name lottery, but I gave them hell till they agreed. I was only 4 years old.. how could you blame me? (look at the picture, look at the picture...)
Anyway, I'll dub him Kee just for the blog.
He's lived in the North of Italy in the last 3 years or so and since he's left our parents' home we've kind of got closer and closer.
We are adults now, and we cherish our relationship as one of the most precious things in life. We both know our parents won't be here forever and our family is such a small one that, in the end, we could be each other's only relative. I know it's a strange feeling, we're not survivors on a desert island, but sometimes that's how we feel.
Especially him, because he doesn't like the place where he lives that much. People are cold and stiff and in spite of his really good attitude at making friends he only has a few acquaintances but nothing more.
He's tall and dark, with big brown eyes and long eyelashes. When he was a child and mommy cleaned his ears he cried so much his eyelashes looked like a wet wig.. it was irresistibly funny, poor one!
Growing up he's become a handsome young man with that gloomy charm that girls soon started to appreciate, much to his surprise.
He's always been some Gyro Gearloose since he was so small he could hardly walk, and made all the family stare at him in awe. He started disassembling radios and watches when the other kids hardly played with Lego. When he was no more than 3 or 4 years old he realized that a sharp nail could work as a record player, if he made the record spin fast enough. I see him, lying on the carpet of our room, with one of his records (he had dozens, just like a baby girl would have had dolls) spinning fast and his ear almost pressed on it...opening his eyes in amazement and shouting "it plays!"
I always felt a bit dumb if compared to him.. I was very good at school and was a quiet girl, very thoughtful for my age, but he was so smart and incredibly clever he left us all speechless!
When he started talking fluently (we both were very precocious at that..) it was like living with Woody Allen, a running fire of slapsticks that sometimes confused people around him. Not to mention my younger cousins, victims of his cunning tricks!!
I have to admit I often suffered for his appearently cold manners, when he was in his 20's and I left home I missed him so much I cried in bed while Pi tried to soothe me..
I think we both missed some good times because of that silliness that catches you when you're in your teens, but that's how it goes!
We've shared so many funny moments and so many heavy thoughts and yet every time we talk it's like meeting for the first time, he surprises me with nice words and slaps me with pragmatic resolutions. Once he called me and didn't talk, he played 3 minutes of jazz guitar over the phone. At the end he just said "I was thinking of you, and wanted to let you know that I'm improving my technique, bye".
Not to mention all the times he called or sent me a message just to have a good laugh about politics, or cartoons, or something from our childhood he suddendly remembered.
I know I'm just talking about feelings and not about facts, but today my heart's on a boat and the sea is wild. It's much too difficult to write anything better than this.
The only way to really show you how he is, would be posting a photograph. A picture of my eyes when I look at him, proud of being his sister. Proud of being his family.
Why not take all of me
why not take all of me.
can't you see I'm no good without you...
your goodbye left me with eyes that cry, how can I go on live without you
you took that part that once was my heart
so why not
so why not take all of me
Great song, uh?
I know a lot of time has passed since I last updated. These holidays just swallowed me whole. Christmas came and went, with family and friends, and the week between it and New Year's Eve was quite busy, with friends and parties. All went well or not too bad at least until January 1st.
Exchanged Christmas presents.
Then the storm. It's impossible to sum up some 12 hours spent talking and crying and whispering, the story's always the same. Just cut and paste what happened three months ago.
I know he's right when he says we're not meant to be. I know he doesn't love me anymore. Wonder if he ever did. Then why why why on earth am I so HE-addicted?
I'm still/again in love. Yeah, great. And this smashes my brain like a potato. I end up almost begging for "one last hug" or crap like that. I'm fuming with rage at myself. I'm the dumbest, weakiest worthless chicken in the country.
I spent two days in bed crying my eyes out, no food, no drink. I turned off the cell and tried to calm down but all I went through was sleeping and bleeding. Yeah, I had a kind of hemorrhage on Monday night, something really more serious than a simple period.. I panicked at first, but then I just thought that exhausted as I was nothing mattered
Now I'm back at work. Or at least I'm back in the office. There's nothing I can't keep my mind on. He'd like to be friends again. It's been a lifetime since we first met, we've spent 15 years being each other's polar star somehow.. and now he turns me down like this. He's broken his toy. Discovered that the woman he has always loved was more in his mind than on this earth. That I'm human. No one can stand being compared to a myth. That's my fault. Not that he didn't like what he found... passionate lovemaking, deep affection and care but.. no stars, no sparks.
Ironic as it is, now it's my turn to stare at him as if he was god, with the stars in my eyes and my heart bleeding.
I can't stand it. I feel so weak I can't bare the thought of driving home or simply walking to the car. All I want to do is sleep and sleep and sleep until I wake up in my late 80's and the Lord will mercifully take my weary soul.
I know I'm overreacting, I know someday this will all be a bad memory. I can even imagine one day I'll be his friend again. But what in the meantime? How to react? Where to find the strenght to carry on? It's all fake and empty, it's all tasteless and worthless.
My counsellor's on a vacation, we're due to meet on Tuesday, but it seems it will take years from now.
What's so wrong in me that I'm not good enough to take care of myself, to defend myself from things like these? Why do I always seem to look for these kind of heartbreaking "final acts"?It's not the first time, I should have learned the lesson but no, here I go again, pale and shaken..feeling my life as an unbearable burden.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm too Italian even for an Italian woman.. you know all that drama and tragedy and stuff.. Mimì in the Bohème at least had tuberculosis, *she* had the right to whine!!! The funny thing is that, apart from my restless aching heart, I'm the more pragmatic and down-to-earth person in town.
Now that I think about it, this could be part of the problem..I mean, being TOO pragmatic, TOO much logical.
It's like my mind goes into something like "the more I'm good and caring and patient the more he'll love me.. the more I deserve the more I get."
Bullshit. There's no way I can fix something broken just being a good girl, heal the wounds life gave me some 30 years ago. I'd better face it and stop falling to pieces everytime someone hurts me.
People get hurt. Lots of people are left by husbands, wives, mothers, fathers. But when we're suffering, we're blind to other people, it's only us and our trouble.
Outside the sun is shining and the air is crackling cold. All I want is this pain to end.