lust but not least

Everything counts in large amounts

2006-09-24T21:31:00.000+02:00

Writing again. And it's not easy after such a long time. It's been almost a month since I wrote the last post and in the meantime lots of things have happened. Lots of changes both inside and outside me. Job, friends, love, health. Almost everything has slightly or deeply changed, and I'm still coping with it, or trying to.

Seaweed's mom died a few weeks ago, and I'm still struck both for her death and for my beloved brave Seaweed's infinite pain. Some other people left their suffering bodies too. It's been a tough moment for many of us, both here and there, out in the blog world.

Coming to me, my life's still quite "fluid", it doesn't seem to condensate in a satisfactory form yet, and therefore my body's starting a rebellion, or so it seems. I'll know something more about it in a few weeks, after some hospital routine and a large amount of white hair.

All this have had me deeply thinking. Much more than I expected too. About life, death, love, karma and all the rest. You know, all the things we young women in our thirties usually think while waiting for our turn at the hairdresser.

I 've come to think that facts are not so important, in the end... I mean, it doesn't really matter what I'm doing, who I'm seeing or whatever else I may think of writing now. What difference could it make if we're crying because of a harsh word or an evil behaviour? If we're laughing for a funny movie or for some crazy thing our pet did? The only thing that counts is whether we're laughing or crying, how we feel and how we're struggling to become better people.
What counts is how much we're loving each other. How much we're loving ourselves.

Anyway, my mind's not clear enough to really talk about anything. I just wanted to say hi to everyone out there, to thank those who showed even the faintest interest in where the hell I had gone... even without having to cash any debt from me!

I'll be back soon, or I'll try to. In the meanwhile, have fun and do nothing that I wouldn't do.. or wouldn't write of!
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Title from: Everything counts - Depeche Mode

I'm black and blue all over

2006-08-25T18:02:00.000+02:00

They were different times, no doubt. There has always been a romantic aura all over some cities, people were different, softer somehow. And he was ironic, tender and knew how to touch our heart. To tell the truth I thought I would have come back home muttering his words in a low voice and smiling.
BUT.
Would someone tell me how on earth Cole Porter could have written such a song as I love Paris????

One week in Paris and it rained every day. I'm not talking about that light and somehow lovely rain that cools the air on summer afternoons. Not at all. I'm rather talking about Noah and his ark. Animal couples, take just your wife and come on board. Yeah, that's it. And don't try to fool me about "singing in the rain". Every drop was large enough to choke me.

The city was stinky and the people were unbearable. Stiff and snobbish. They looked at us as if we were lice, to say the least. Not to talk about road or touristic signs... it was as their only goal was for you to be completely lost. I don't know, but last time I checked, road signs were meant to make you FIND places..Good Lord!

Another nice thing about the Ville Lumière is that if you're handicapped (temporarily or not) or if you have a baby and you're not able to carry him/her on your back "à l'Africaine" (I saw lots of women carrying babies that way and they're amazing, but come on!! It should be a choice, not a "that's the only way" thing) you're done. No tapis-roulant (moving walkway, they provided Europe the word, you see? THE WORD. But no trace of the THING), no elevators in most shops, nothing. Just stairs and stairs and stairs everywhere. And tiny doors. And bumpy sidewalks.

Now I'm home. And I miss that stinky place so much. I miss the holidays and that's obvious. But there's something else too. Something subtler than the rational things I just pointed out.
First of all I miss the "not Parisiennes" people. All those different colours and faces and styles and cultures. I miss the baker's shops, les boulangeriès, with their luxury windows, the beautiful and delicious gateaux, tartes, flan, petit patissèrie... all those sweet jewels aligned like tiny dancers ready to pirouette up to your mouth... Jeez, it was heaven! I gained some 4 pounds or so and I'm happy as a king!

(the photograph has been taken in the Jewish Quarter, one of the nicest I've seen)

I miss the cozy apartment we rented. It was so bohemienne it made me crave for romance every moment of the day... actually before leaving Italy Frook gave me a book that reminded me of Goldfish quite a lot. I usually say he's like a shark: even if he lives miles away he smells the blood and right when I'm weak he makes a phone call, or sends me a message about "the good old times". It happened when Mr.Charmes left, when I stopped seeing Thomas, when I lately lost my job. This time made no difference. I read the book thinking sweetly about him and - without knowing anything about where I was or so - he called me and was so lovely that I had to remind myself of the reasons why we broke up not to flirt over the phone.

I miss the comfort of a quiet vacation. I slept as an angel, prepared delicious meals and read a lot. A real holiday.

I miss my French. It's nothing more than a vague recollection from school, but as I love foreign languages so much I felt thrilled by chatting with people.. First day I hardly got to buy something to eat, the last days I went sightseeing all alone and had an almost decent conversation with a bookseller in a tiny comic-strip shop in Montmartre. He even laughed at my jokes. In French! And he laughed WITH me, not AT me!! Wow!

And at least, this is me. The huge ball in the pic is Le Gèode, a cinema at the Science Village, with a screen 1.000 square mt wide. I miss myself as you see me in the pic. A part of a larger world. In the shadow, maybe, but present and real.

So, in the end, it wasn't love at first sight between me and Paris.. I'd say it was much a kind of s/m relationship.. but who cares? I'm not used to easy things...
-----
Title from: It's good to be in love - Frou Frou

Oh, if you're asking, the title refers to my tights. My suitcase has been broken to pieces and, besides buying a brand new one in the most expensive town of the world, at the arrival I had to carry the old one like a sleeping baby, picking it into my arms up the winding staircase to the third floor, to our flat. Obviously it almost fell thousands of time and so my tights look like a map of the earth seen from the moon. Sexier than ever.

So, I am leaving

2006-08-16T00:45:00.000+02:00

To relax, recover, have fun.

To eat a lot of wonderful food and buy some more books about food and visit dozens of shops where I will finally buy the amazing macarons of the picture.

To give myself a present for once.

To stop craving for sex.

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title from: Cry - Sarah Jane Morris

Like a prayer

2006-08-04T00:08:00.000+02:00

Life has a funny way of sneaking upon you when you think everything's ok and everything's going right.
And life has a funny way of helping you out when you think everything's gone wrong and everything goes up in your face...

So my job contract hasn't been renewed and I'm home, trying to collect the strenght to start again with a new job, wherever it may be. How to find a new one, what to do...I still don't know. The only thing I know for sure is that I'll be happier and healthier with none of the Addams on sight. And I perfectly know that I deserve something better, something that really suits me..

Still I'm worried for my future
Still I'm tired, after this year of struggling within.

Still I pray harder and harder for some real chance to come.

Sick and tired

2006-07-20T11:55:00.000+02:00

I know you've been depressed for the last 50 years. I know you're married to a man whom you deeply care for but who'll never be able to really communicate, and this kills you with frustration. I know you've done amazing great things during the last 2 years and now you're much more indipendent than you've ever been in all your life, though tired to your bones..
I know you're worried for me and Kee, for our jobs that seem to fly away with the wind just when we start to rely on them... and I know that this sometimes keeps you awake at night.

I know all about you. And I've always silently understood, as I've always been the Sensible One. Never complaining, never arguing. I've always loved you. Much more so, when you didn't even look down at me.

I know you've understood so so many of the mistakes you've made, and you really want to make things up for us all.

So why on earth do you keep on answering the phone with that gloomy voice, as if you were going to exhale your last breath?
Why do you always wait for me to call you, instead of calling me sometimes?
Why can't you listen to the sound of your voice and realize how much you hurt us with that anguish? Why can't you see how hard we had to fight against your pain, before it became *our* pain? Why, oh Lord, why does your personal blues have to be deeper and harder than any other's? Can't you see where this all has taken us?
Why can't you ONCE IN A WHILE put your sadness aside and just take a look at your children?

Share your beauty and love with us while you're still here on this earth, don't make us longer for a smile. You know how it feels when death takes away your chance of being a daughter anymore. And you know that until you know what it feels being a daughter - and stop being a child - you're not ready to be a mom.. And I wanna be a darn good mom.. sooner or later..

I know me and Kee are both in our thirties, and maybe you think we don't need you anymore but we do, we haven't ever had you when we were kids. Too many silent mornings, too many relatives to play with, so you could rest in the shadow of those endless afternoons.

You're our mom. Yours is the only job one cannot retire from.

I wish this could be enough for you to start, at least.

They gathered for the feast

2006-07-14T10:59:00.000+02:00

Yesterday the Addams' family opened a new store in the second most important town of the region I live in. It's a couple of hours' away from here, so we had to leave town quite early in the morning to get there on time and to work like dogs before and during the opening ceremony. Actually I had already worked a lot for that, as the ceremony and the party after that are things which I personally take care of.

This is my third new opening since I've worked for the Addams and it's the second opening this year. Last one was in March, in a village not too far from here.

I had heard this time would have been harder and much more tiresome - apart from the distance - because of the many many things that hadn't worked out well in the previous months. Problems regarding almost everything, from the goods to the building, from the shop assistants' uniforms to the stands and racks, from licenses and authorizations to software bugs.
So, when we got there we had no surprise in finding all the guys in a daze.

In addition, the air conditioning system was out of order. Considering that the temperature outside was about 34° C, no wind with 400% humidity and that the store has huge windows (=let the sunshine in...) imagine how "cool" we all looked.. At 7 AM, me and Frook looked fine: we had nice dresses, nice high-heeled shoes, nice hairdos and so on. At 9 AM we had started looking a bit less shining. At 1 PM, our makeup melting, we looked like homeless raccoons. At 4 PM, hungry, tired, sweating copiously, dishevelled, totally worn down, we were ready to star in an episode of Lost.

The store opened at noon, after the usual speech from Gomez Addams (K.o.M's dad, a man compared to whom Mr.Magoo is a lovely handsome easygoing lad. A man who makes Uncle Scrooge look like the most selfless and generous benefactor in the universe) following which I learned it's better to wear a look of intense admiration and interest. If tears of emotion come, it's even better, but it's not essential.

After that, the customers all fought their way to the buffet, behaving as in a story from the Bible. No, not like Moses and his friends towards the promised land, a bit more like the grasshoppers of the Egyptian plague.
After less than 20 mins the tables were empty. You could hear a sound as if the wind was blowing through the desert... woooooooooooohhhhhhhhh... Impressive, uh?

I always get quite astonished about people's behaviour when it comes to free food or gadgets.

Besides, the Addams usually buy some thousands of small plants to be given as a gift to the customers. Some girls in pretty uniforms stand beside a green table and give the flowers to the ladies. Or so it should be if people didn't act like they were mental... Yesterday I saw two men in their late forties (beer belly, almost bald head and stuff) fiercely arguing about who was the first in line to get a tiny petunia. One of them was almost shouting that his wife was pregnant and she would have died if he hadn't taken her the plant.. Folks, I'm talking about a small, tiny, 50 cent of Euro petunia. My gosh..

The 3 little pigs (my boss, the Second Son and the K.o.M) were frantic and tired, and I reckon they really were emotional about all the circus. You know, all the talks about "we're a family, we're the largest store chain in the region still we're so modest and human - yeah, you bet - and our clerks are all happy and smiling - yeah, you bet n.2 - and we're growing a halo 'cause - light a candle and pray - we're SAINTS!"

I know that after The Company Ravishing Annual Party nothing can surprise you anymore, but believe me, it was a science fiction-horror movie. I didn't even have to pay a ticket to see it!!
Ok, I lost some 6 pounds from the sweating and fasting, got so tired that I fell asleep at 7 PM with my face buried in the dinner plate and slept so badly I'm aching all over. But isn't it a small price to pay for such a show?

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Title from: Hotel California - The Eagles

Scorpio(n)s are pretty cool

2006-07-06T15:39:00.000+02:00

Bee - hi, hon
me - hi. what's up?
Bee - the silly crap is here
me - who???
Bee - Charmes' girlfriend. She's in the restaurant right now
me - f*ck
Bee - yeah. She's really a worthless crap.. I asked her where mr.Charmes was..
me - yeah, and she told you he's at work, I guess... that bitch.. I cannot even stand her saying his name, not to mention knowing what he does, where and when...
Bee - right..
me - but why on earth did you have to ask her, good lord!!
Bee - I don't know... I thought it was natural, I mean, she could have find it strange if I didn't ask anything...
me - oh, c'mon....
Bee- ... I don't know why you're getting so upset (SHE DOESN'T KNOW, MY GOD!!!!) She's such a meaningless puppet, the more I look at her and the more I recall his face when he talks to you... well.. he's scared to death, but he belongs to you, hon. (... this is the difference between a gossipy friend and a simple gossiper... the friend dresses the wounds SHE inflicts)
me - yeah, he belongs to me but in this life he's sharing his bed with her. Let's wait for next incarnation, maybe... Anyway, you're kind to say so, ok, but for the future... instead of comforting me AFTER a mess, would you mind AVOIDING the whole "mess creation" stuff?
Bee - ..... I couldn't help but calling you.. I was so upset!
me - (SHE was upset, uh?) ok, ok, never mind. See you tonite, then.
Bee - You ok?
me - yeah, I'm fine. It was just a moment, but I'm far beyond these things. I mean, how many times do we have to repeat this mantra? "what's written for me will be mine, what is not for me wouldn't make me happy anyway". So, I'll live my life peacefully and good things will come. The right things will come. It's just a matter of time. And patience.
Bee - There you go, girl! See you later, then.
me - Oh, Bee... just one thing left
Bee - what?
me - poison her food or I'll kill you bare handed
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Title from: What's your sign? - Des'ree

Teacher, there are things...

2006-06-19T17:56:00.000+02:00

As I said, I had my English test on Wednesday.

The night before the test had been spent on restless thoughts and worries, thanks to a harsh discussion I'd had and to some hours of non-stop crying, and the following morning I was tired beyond imagination.

The exam started with British precision at 9.00 am, and went on until lunch break, at 1.00 pm.

During this time I succeded in:
1) falling asleep with my head on the desk. The girl who was sitting next to me thought I was "very relaxed".. God help
2) writing one of the best compositions of my life, which oozed with irony and wit in every word. And my only thought was "it would fit the blog perfectly... will they let me have a copy?.."
3) deciding I'm too old to take any exam. I even failed the blood tests, what the heck did I want to do there????

After lunch, there was another 80 (yeah, EIGHTY) questions about grammar and use of English. At the end of the test I was so weary I could hardly think straight. Nonetheless I seemed to be able of thinking in some way, as my mind went on producing nightmarish pictures of me being laughed at by all the teachers and the students in the school.

The last part of the test, on Thursday, was about listening and speaking (things we all should be supposed to do exactly in THAT order). The speaking test was scheduled in the afternoon, so before going to school I took a break in a local cafeteria with Bee and her daughter.. and it took me a breathless run to be back there on time.

The girl who had been designed to be my partner was already waiting for me in the hall. I was a bit nervous and therefore a bit more silent than usual, so when I got in the room I just said "Ciao"
(I want to make this point very clear: I'm Italian, all the students there were Italian, the test was made for "English Second Language Students". Me and that girl, we were ALONE in the room. Clear? ok. fine.)

She couldn't say anything nearly as trivial as "ciao", of course. She couldn't just nod and smile silently meaning "hi, I'm nervous too, let's just hope we can go through it". Not at all. She spoke, lightspeed, almost without breathing. What I say, spoke. She erupted as a volcano, she exploded like a rocket. "ohmypartnerfinallyhasarrived!!!!!!Iwasalittlebitworriedyousee!!!excusemeifIspeakEnglishrightfromthestartbutifIstartspeakingItalianthanit'sover!!!!!!"

ok. If this was meant to frighten me to death, guys, that's exactly what was happening.

A second later I was sitting in front of three-women-three, pale as ghosts, who asked us the typical questions you expect to hear in a test like that. You know, things like "what is the decision you've made that you can say has changed your life?" or "do you think God exists? if so, why am I here and not on a tropical beach?"

After 15 minutes of this wonderfully enjoyable repertoire, I was allowed to leave. What a pity... time goes by so fast when you're having fun with friends, uh?

Now. The exam is over, I won't have the results until September. A whole summer during which I'll spread my awful English around the web, until The Judgment comes.

Watch out, you people out there. It could be infectious!

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Today's title: One more try - George Michael

You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm...

2006-06-12T16:24:00.001+02:00

The skin on my back doesn't look like a giant pizza anymore, but my body doesn't seem to recover from godknowswhat. While I'm trying to collect the money to take some bloody, ehm, blood test, my liver has decided to go on a strike. I'm always tired and weary, sleepy and weak. Now I'm at the desk but I'd rather be in bed, taking a nap, as I can hardly keep my eyes open.
Wednesday I'm taking my English exam. I'm afraid I won't make it, as I haven't studied that much and I can't seem to concentrate (see above).

Lots of people have come and gone in the last two weeks. Some of them made me smile, some of them had me so mad I could have killed them. Some of them have let me down very badly. Some have pleasantly surprised me.

Me, I've deserved kisses and slaps on the face just like everybody else.

So the following is not exactly a complaint, nor a blame; I simply think people do what they do. Most of the times they hurt you because they're hurt.
But sometimes it's more than one can bear. So no criticism. Just a matter-of-factly way to describe how life's going here..

5) Thomas has proved himself to be very disrespectful, to say the least, and with a tendency to make up stories in his own brain, regardlessly of the most elementary truth, that borders on insanity. He's a guru in making up fights, act as a drama queen, insult you in both subtle and direct ways and then play the part of the tiny blossom who's been hurt by the cruel and chilly witch from the North (me, in this case). Unbearable. Much more so because I've been so silly to let him behave like this for months before deciding I'd had enough.

4) The sweatshirt man seems to be gone for a while. He's a good guy but really needs a shrink. The more people get closer, the more he treats them like crap for his rage and fear of being left alone. And when obviously most of the people leave, he gets angrier and sadder because "what did I tell you? nodoby loves me..." A shrink. Now. Please. We could arrange a group discount for him, Thomas and...

3) Mr.Charmes is spiting in the face of God. Just hope God's looking somewhere else. Or has a huge handkerchief and a very bad memory.

2) Bee has come back. I still don't know how I feel about seeing her again. I've missed her so much, as she says she's missed me, but I'm having some trouble in forgiving her. She's too easy on some things, and I'm not so good in letting go. We'll see what happens.

1) My American friend's friend must be completely nuts. After scaring the sh** out of me with that email about testaments and stuff, he's decided to "stop messing with xxx's life" and disappeared. Simple as this. Now I still don't have any news about anything, and I can't do anything.

If I gave credit to anyone of the above mentioned crazy people, I'd be locked in a room with padded walls. To avoid this, I'm baking tons of pizza, planting begonias and basil on my terrace and taking care of my home. Tonight I'll be at a friend's house to watch the football game on tv. I'll take an apple crumb and the best of my smiles. You won't be able to tell which one of the two is the sweetest...
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Title from: Des'ree - You gotta be

Let me out of this cheap B movie

2006-05-24T15:44:00.000+02:00

If you've never seen anyone of the Beckett's plays you may find it difficult to figure out how I spent the last couple of days.

Mr.Charmes provided most of the script, with his behaviour which is one step – to say the least - into madness. Me, in spite of my efforts to behavive like a perfect ascetic, I'm completely overwhelmed by my feelings for him and I act more like a passionate geisha than like Siddharta. Great, uh?

Honestly, I'm trying hard to get a grip on myself and on my life, trying to eat regularly, do the common housekeeping chores, wake up everyday and simply go to work, without callin in sick or swearing all my way through the office.

When somone's most difficult task is "to have a normal life", if a justice existed things should simply align themselves to that, and proceed NORMALLY. I mean, I don't expect a better job, nor to win the lottery; I don't expect Mr.Charmes to be sensible and polite nor Thomas to be sane. None of these impossible things is on my list. I'd simply like things to go their way as smoothly as they can.

But.

Yesterday morning I started my wonderful Monday with an email that started like this
"good morning. it is with great sorrow that i write to you this e-mail. you do not know me, but i am xx, close friend of yyy (a guy from the US navy I met a few years ago, and whom I still write to). He would always keep an envelope with me sealed when on deployment, never to be opened unless something unfortunate were to happen. well, don't know how or what to say about this but the envelope is opened. the following is left for you and I quote:.. "
ok guy. If this is a joke it's the worst joke ever. If it's not a joke, you're a complete asshole, contacting me like this, scaring the shit out of me, letting me think that he’s dead somewhere… when you still don't know what the heck has happened to him!
Yep, the following mail said something like “I haven’t heard from him nor from anyone else, but he was due to be back and he’s not” Is that enough for you to unseal envelopes, send emails over the ocean and so on?
Anyway, I still don't know much more about this story, but it really strucks me. Talk about starting my day with a smile…

After eight hour's work the only thing I wanted to do (apart from having Alzheimer and forget the US navy, Mr.Charmes and his bloody girlfriend, my job contract expiring in a month and so on) was to get back home, cook some healthy food, invite some friends for dinner and eventually chill out on the sofa with my cross stich on my knees and stuff.
But the curtains weren’t due to fall yet.
When I got home I firstly didn't understand what I saw.. I mean, my apartment floor is usually almost white while yesterday it looked like a cow's back. Well, call me a bloody racist but when it comes to my ex tidy and clean floor IT DAMN MATTERS IF IT'S BLACK OR WHITE.. After a few moments' shock, I realized what had happened. One of my cat was running around, tarred and feathered like a bad guy in a western movie.
What happened, you ask? Discarding the hypothesis that those furry monsters were rehearsing a short version of The good the cat and the ugly, the only possible explanation is the following: my landlord had tarred a small terrace close to my terrace without giving me a single word of advice, while some poor little bird killed by the cats had provided the feathers.
Do anyone of you out there know what is the only way to clean a tarred floor (and a tarred cat)? Yep, right. Oil is the only remedy.
Try to picture yourself, after a hard day, on your knees, rubbing the floor with seed oil. How's your mood? Now picture yourself - or what's left of it - trying to have a wild cat rubbed with seed oil and then washed with soap and rinsed. I think this is what happened to Kubrick before shooting A Clockwork Orange. Things like these leave a hard mark on your mind, kids.

When my closest friends ask me how I'm doing, I simply tell them they owe me 6.50 euros for the answer. This life's a movie and that’s the ticket price.

Almodovar should give me a call.

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Title from: Headlong- The Queen

..it's all right, I'm just weary to my bones

2006-05-16T17:01:00.000+02:00

My head is numb. Better, it's full of crazy bees that fly frantically and buzz loudly. I still am unable to break free from the pain that Mr.Charmes' loss has caused me. I could write tons about the reasons why I feel the way I do, but I don't want to overanalyse, not now.

It's late at night and my whole day has been a fight , I'm tired and weary and I'm losing hope to feel any different.

Lord, it can't go on like this forever.. good things don't last forever, and so should bad things... easy to say, hard to believe..

The house is silent, the cats are quietly resting, my room is tidier than I remembered. It's time to stop this struggle within and breathe. So I sit down facing the white wall and trying to let the thoughts go by. They're sticky and toxic, and they're killing me. Slowly.

Inhale

Exhale

Meditation is over. So is my excruciating pain.
The ashes are still hot but there are no more flames. Hope it lasts until tomorrow.

I open the book on my bedside table. One sentence above the others captures my eyes.

Don't love anything so much that you become its slave.

I close the book. Last thing I put my eyes on before turning off the lights is the enso hangin on the wall.

It's been a good day, in the end.

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title from: American Tune - Simon&Garfunkel

Sunday Bloody Sunday

2006-05-14T10:57:00.000+02:00

There's something wrong with the skin on my back. It's been 2 months now that it's been covered with red spots, something vaguely resembling herpes that has bothered me beyond imagination.
As I was going through a slightly stressful period (so to speak...) I thought I only needed some rest and some - try to guess.. - peace. I thought my body was asking for attention and my liver was tired. And I still think this could be one of the possible explanations.
During the sesshin I felt really better - and this event kind of confirmed my theory - but once I got home my back turned into the same pizza it was before..
Now, unless Mel Brooks was planning to shoot Spaceballs 2 and asked me to star as Pizza the Hut, I needed to put and end to this.
Last week I made my decision and went to see my doctor. Thruthfully speaking I don't put much trust in "conventional" medicine, but anyway..
As I expected, the doctor had no idea of what to say, I think he was just trying to guess between some hormonal disease (which I'm sure it's wrong), a virus from the aliens or a thyroid disfunction (which could be possible at last as almost every woman in my family has suffered from it..).
He ordered me to do blood tests for some 5 zillion euros.
Needless to say, if I had the money to pay for those tests I'd be on a holiday in Mauritius and I would have silk instead of skin on my back.
Anyway, I thought I could have killed two birds with one stone if I had gone to give blood to a hospital. Firstly I would have done something I've longed to do for many years but haven't been allowed as I was too thin. Secondly, as they always make some blood test before accepting you as a donor, I could have saved some money, then go to a laboratory to have the rest of my tests done.
This morning I woke up at the crack of dawn - even if it's Sunday - and went to the medical center.
I felt great. I was going to do something useful for me and for the others. Wow. Not even 9 o'clock and I was going to do the first good action of the day.
They had me waiting for some 20 minutes, then asked me to fill a questionary, then called me for a quick visit before the donation.
The doctor was tall and kind. My blood pressure was ok. My questionary was ok. My weight was borderline (half a kilo less and it would have been too little). My hemoglobin was (and is) outrageously low..

doctor - well, I can't take any blood from you, unless you come back with a hemoglobin of at least 12. Yours is 10, if you give blood you may have troubles in reforming all your blood cells.

me - ok, then.. maybe I can come back some other time, I'll try to "recover" in the meanwhile...

doctor - yes, of course. One thing left: ask your doctor to order you some tests. You might need a check up.

me - yeah, right. Why haven't I thought about it myself...
.....

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Today's title from: Sunday Bloody Sunday - U2

2006-05-09T23:53:00.000+02:00

Today's my 34th birthday.

Peace of heart is what I'm wishing myself.

Piece of cake is what I'd like to share with you all.

Seek and destroy

2006-05-05T17:46:00.000+02:00

I'm pissed off beyond words can say. I don't want to go into any detail, as the whole thing is not worth a single thought. People are people, the sooner I give up my naive illusions about everybody being basically good, the best for me.

As at the moment I'm still at work and I'm not able to actually do anything, best thing I can do is write a short list of

do's and dont's for when you're really really pissed off:

1) Picture yourself as the incredible Hulk and imagine crashing the moron's skull on a wall and smashing it like a walnut (repeat at libitum until you calm down or actually turn green)

2) Write something down. Draw. Let your rage become an object, something out of you, something you can look at. Don't let it become "yourself"

3) Be truth to your feelings. Don't try to sort the mess out immediately if the only thing you want to do is killing someone. Wait for the slaughtering craving to pass. If it doesn't pass, consider buying lots of books. It'll be very boring, in jail...

4) Always try to find an explanation for what has happened, try to understand why people behave like they do. Maybe you've started the process, even without noticing. But don't lie to yourself, don't justify everybody: a filthy bastard is a filthy bastard, no matter how hard you analyse it.

5) If you can, don't lower your "attitude level" to match anyone else's. I.E. don't swear like a sailor just because the person you're having a fight with does.

6) Don't say things you don't think just because you're hurt. They really can kill. And are hardly forgiven if ever forgotten.

7) Allow yourself the chance to really vent about your rage. Scream, smash something (your mommy's crystal glasses are never a good item for this purpose..), run. Let your body detoxicate from anger.

8) When you feel the time has come, relax the best way that you can. Yoga, chocolate, shopping, meditation, prayers, flattering friends.. choose what really fits you and don't spare yourself anything good.

.. ok, it may have been totally useless for anybody else, but now I feel better. The unworthy asshole's head is safe from my green fury. I quit the Hulk's behaviour.

But, thinking it over, if Hulk's not the answer, maybe Kenshiro is...

His rotten head is due to explode in 10 seconds from now...9...8....7....

Today's title from: Seek and Destroy - Metallica

Sex and zen

2006-05-04T00:16:00.000+02:00

Not that anybody cared (apart this witty friend at the Hamster's cage, maybe) but.. well, this in the picture is more or less what I've been doing during the last weeks.

Besides destroying what was left of my dignity making love to the most unfitting man in the world. Who, much to my disgrace, fits me like a glove when in bed.

Well, to cut it short, I badly need a real vacation from this world.

Election day

2006-04-13T18:16:00.000+02:00

Last Sunday was election day here in Italy. We had to choose between that unbearable dwarf who was our prime minister and the soporific old granpa who's gonna be the next.
Yes, this tells who won. Or, better, who lost less. Because though many of us expected the center-left coalition to win hands down and mr.dwarf to go home at last, this mission turned out to be hard to accomplish. But let's see what happened.

On Monday afternoon I put a 1-litre-bottle of Heineken in the fridge, cooked a great dinner and invited Sikbros home to follow minute by minute what was happening on tv. The voting stations closed at 3 pm. At half past 3 the exit-polls where all about Prodi winning the contest with more than 54% of the votes. I decided not to hurry in partying and on I went with my cooking routine. At 8 pm it was clear that the exit polls were worth shit and that mr.dwarf was winning in the counting for the Senate.

To cut it short, nothing was made clear before 3 in the morning, but I went to bed definitely earlier, deciding that a country that wasn't able to understand who to vote for wasn't worth my attention. I mean, the country has gone through one of the most ridiculous and frightening periods I can think of. Nothing happened in a democratic country compares to what has happened here during the lst 5 years. Things were even worse during the pre-electoral debates. Everybody out of Italy knows that we were governed by an awful figure, who is now - thank God - our ex-prime minister. He has thrown our country's reputation in the mud, behaving like a perfect moron both at the European Parliament and abroad. He gave a picture of Italy as of a place crowded by big-boobed secretaries (yep, women can't have any other job for this genius) and old but still smart latin lovers. WTF! someone should have told him that nothing that comes from a movie made in the 50's should be used in politics! He's made a fool of himself wherever he's gone - not so bad, considering that he IS a freaking fool - and made us, poor victims at home, cover our face in shame at seeing him on tv.

What else did my connationals need to open their eyes??

Thanks mostly to the awful election campaign made up by the central-left party some 20% of the voters has chosen to give their vote to this clown and the central-left coalition has won with just a paper thin advantage.

This is really more than I can understand. Even a 2-years-old toddler would have known what to say to make Italians feel more confident about voting for one coalition instead of another. It should have been almost impossible for them to lose this competition, but you see, their masochistic nature eventually shows up.. so they messed up the good cards they had and ended up thinning the advantage they had until almost losing.

Of course now mr.dwarf can't accept the truth - which is, he has to GO HOME. He simply can't, it's not in his selfish, bossy nature. So he's making a fuss about re-counting the votes and stuff. I'm petrified and think I'll be holding my breath until the verdict of the Supreme Court (designed to declare the official winner party) will put him in conditions of causing no further damage.
Believe me, it's not a matter of left or right anymore. It's a matter of dues and rights, now.
Though I don't think that the future government will make a big difference, at least I hope they won't use our left few resources for their own benefit. .

I thought I would have been happier than I am, due to the results. This lovely, wonderful country of ours is battered and weary. It surely couldn't stand the rude manners of another troll like him, it surely deserves a better, constant, solid government. Which, I'm afraid, we won't have anyway.

Needless to say, the bottle's still in the fridge.

---------------
title from: Election day - Duran Duran

Hush now

2006-03-30T16:57:00.000+02:00

It's no secret that the last six months have been kind of a rollercoaster ride for me. After all the crying (much), laughing (not so much), lovemaking and love searching, now it's time to pace down and be with myself.
I did a lot of thinking during last week, and this is one of the reasons I haven't written anything up until now. I was too busy trying to sort out my thoughts (and working like a dog, to be true).
Reality is snowing inside my heart in tiny flakes. At first they melted in touching me. Now they're too many and they're a cold but soft cover that I can't ignore anymore. Just like snowflakes, every truthflake is different from the others, it would take a lifetime to examine them all. The bigger ones are easy to recognize though not so easy to manage. One is "being single", one is "Mr.Charmes' new girlfriend", another one is "Mr.Charmes being unfit for me, in the end".
Smaller ones are about subtler things, about my perception of myself and my ability to live with and within myself. I know it may sound obvious to many, but it never occured to me that, as long as I take care of myself I may be alone but I'll never be lonely. It's like I've always needed someone else to trace my outline. As if I couldn't paint myself on my own. The truth held in this flake is that everyone can perfectly be contained within themselves, we don't need anyone else building a fence for our cattle to be safe. We are our own fence. We protect our own cattle. Well, this may sound a bit too City Slickers, but it gives the idea, doesn't it?...
Anyway, during this truthfall the only thing I feel like doing is to live quietly and read inspiring books. Breathe deeply. Meet people without being caught by them. I need to keep a clear eye on myself and on these flakes.

I'm confident that springtime is coming. I can almost hear the sound of the first flower of hope springing up through the snowy cover. All I have to do is keep silent and focused.

The sun is warm and the ice is melting. So hush. And let the miracle begin.

-----------------------------------------------------
title from: Don't explain - Herzog/Holiday

Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me

2006-03-17T18:06:00.000+01:00

Two years before giving birth to me, my mommy lost her first baby. Had she lived, she would have been 36. They named her Sara (and this is the only true name in the blog) and as her lungs weren't strong enough to make her breathe, she flew away taking my parents' smile with her.
My Aunt Choy tells me that when I was no more than 3 I used to talk loudly to my "sister in Heaven".
I actually don't remember anything about that but it sounds quite likely, as I still talk to myself very very often. Oh, I pretend to be talking to the cats - which somehow seems a bit more "normal" - but I'm actually either practising my English or rehearsing some conversation I wanna have with someone at work...But that's another story.

I like to think that, had she lived, she would have had dark hair and green/hazelnut sweet eyes, long eyelashes and a warm smile. I like to think that, had she lived, she would have been there for me.

Sara is quiet as always and has a low voice that cuddles me over the phone while she asks me to stay at her home tonite. Her hubby's out to work - he's a vet and has a conference or something - and the kids will be in bed by 9.30. She has two small children of 3 and 4, a boy and a girl, who both call me Auntie-tah and never fail to make me feel guilty asking me "when are you going to bring us your cookies, Auntie-tah?"

She knows I'm heartbroken. She has talked to Kee over the phone and I'm sure they've made up some "rescue plan". So tonite I'm staying at her's. We have veg soup with crostini bread and scrumbled eggs with cheese. After pj-ing the kids, we finally chill out on the sofa, our legs intertwined, a yellow blanket that covers us right up to our chins and a mug of steaming barley drink on the coffee table.
- hon, you look like shit
- thanks. I know.
- what the hell are you eating these days? Cloudy-covered spooks?
- yeah. And don't forget the Gloomynnaise for the dressing..
- so, what the hell has he done this time?
- oh nothing new really. He's just making clearer and clearer that he's engaged and doesn't love me anymore. He's attracted to me. He cares. He says he "knows there isn't anyone else" to make him feel the way I do. Still, he's engaged. I know he's a mess and I know he's my cryptonite. Still, I feel lousy. Still, I longer for him.
- hon, you've known for months that he's like a thorn in your paw... and you also know that his girlfriend's not so lucky, given the fact that he still craves you like crazy. You've known he's kinda engaged for days now. What has changed?
- don't know, Sara...maybe I'm too tired to think straight. I'm overwhelmed by pain and I overestimated my ability to cope with the truth.
- Listen, he's thinking neither with his mind nor with his body at the moment. He's reacting just like a wounded bear. He wants to run away from you, and everytime he gets to see you he tells himself the tale that he wants to make love to you because "he can't help it". Bullshit. You've only given yourself the chance to get to know yourself better, by seeing him again. By testing your emotions. Now you know that this passion and lust was not only in your mind. It's stronger than you thought, and it entagles him more than ever. He can't afford you, sissie-tah, because you're too much. And he's scared to death by the depth within you both.
- yeah, right. And where does this leave me? Here on your couch, feeling lost and crying my bloody heart out. Thinking that he's happy and content, buying her books and flowers, kissing her tenderly while I'm here trying to survive
- (sings) at first I was afraid I was petrified..
- ...oh c'mon
- ..kept thinking I could never live without you by my side
- ..stop it, you silly bitch! (a smile cracks in between the tears)
- but then I spent so many night with my sister on the couch... and I grew strong! (hands up and almost dancing) and I learned how to get along!
- ok ok ok stop torturing me this way! I surrender! you're right.
- ok, repeat with me. He's messed with me and it's perfectly normal that I feel like shit.
- yeah, he's messed with me
- and???
- and it's perfectly normal that I feel like shit.
- ok. (stroking my hair) Good girl, my sissie-tah. Don't you feel better?
- Yeah, I'm great. By the way, can I commit suicide later, while you're sleeping?
- Of course you can. Only do it in silence, 'cause if you wake up the kids I'll play the Lazarus/Jesus game just to kill you with my bare hands.
- Fine.

---------------------------------------

Title from: Basket Case - Green Day

When I'm feeling blue

2006-03-14T19:06:00.000+01:00

Most of my friends are currently going through a tough period.
Sikbros is having some house related troubles mixed with a few old ghosts who are coming out of the closet of his mind.. he's restless and touchy and it really hurts me to sense his uneasiness and pain, much more so because I've never seen him like this.
Frook is trying to sort out her relationship with her boyfriend. They both look tired and bored nonetheless they'll undoubtedly suffer if the chance will come to part and I'm so so sorry for her.
Chippendale was waiting for her man to come back home from abroad and get married, but he proved himself not to be so trustworthy while away so now I'm afraid she's just waiting him to get back, pack and leave.
Fleep is struggling against rage and melancholy because her ex-boyfriend has found a new lover while she's still single.
Lawnmo' has just put his heart in the hands of a very complicated woman and now, at 42, he's moaning like a baby because of her selfish manouvres.

Most of them called me out to have a talk, to vent and have some good advice. I'm great at giving good advices. To others, of course. When it comes to myself I'm a total mess...

What's left of the bond between me and Mr.Charmes seems to be hard to cut. And this painful situation has taken its toll once again. How many different things a single relationship can hold... rivalry, lust, tenderness and affection yet rage and resentment... I haven't written anything about him lately because I'm more confused than ever, but suffice to say that we can't meet without being thrown in each other's arms. Save, afterwards, feeling thorn between wanting more and wanting to run away - and in the struggle running away (him) or feeling like shit because of the void right after feeling like heaven because of the fullness (me). We've both had other people in our mind or in our bed, but this doesn't seem to make any difference. It's too hard to explain and too painful to describe. Especially now, that I just got back to work after one of the hardest counselling sessions of all my life. Almost 2 hours spent pacing the room like a tiger and crying my heart out in despair. I obviously don't want to summarize what the session was about, it's just to help you all picture my current mood... Lord, I'm exhausted! As I have to stay in this wonderful and cozy office for at least some 2 hours more, I thought I'd better find something to lift me up a bit.

So here I go with the "10 things I should do when I'm blue" list

1) Eat. I never seem to be able to feed myself properly when I'm sad..

2) Go out. Staying home is absolutely counterproductive

3) Keep my mind busy with pleasant activities: quilting, reading, watching Harry Potter two first dvd's, cooking

4) Take care of my body: have a wax, a haircut, a body wrub, do some yoga. Anything that helps me to be in contact with reality, with my phisical being

5) Focus either on serious subjects and on funny things. There's a whole warm world over the wet cold blanket of sadness (thanks to Anne, Deb, Filippo, Funny Thing and Anaglyph at The Cow for the maybe unconscious but priceless help!)

6) Write write write

7) Think positive. I know this may sound obvious and a bit naive, but it definitely helps! If only I could do it more often I'd be perfect! ;-)

8) Start something new (i.e. a new needlework project, a new book) Anything that requires my care and attention. It makes me feel "solid", somehow.

9) Remember how many times I've thought "I won't make it through this". And how many times I've actually made it through anything.. thank God!

10) Always always remember that nothing that comes my way is here by chance. Everything's here for some specific purpose. Be it learning something, be it getting stronger, be it never forgetting the taste of tears so to be happier when the time for smiles comes. Because it comes.

I'm writing it all down so to never forget any of these points and I'd really appreciate all of the passers-by to drop a line. Do you have something to add to my list?

------------------------------

As my post titles keep coming from songs or movies, I thought to make the quotations clearer.

Today's title's from: A groovy kind of love- Phil Collins

Friends will be friends #2

2006-03-14T17:54:00.000+01:00

There are lots of people in the life of everyone of us. Some of them are for good. Some of them pass and go. Some impress a mark in our hearts. Some are a gift from Heaven. Some are a pain in the ass.

What follows is another picture of the people I share my time with. Some of them are always there, some show up once in a while. But I love them all, in different ways.

I've started working for the Addams two years ago and since then I've come to know all my co-workers a bit more day by day: as I've told you before, they're quite a bunch of idiots. But, as the saying goes, it must be an ill wind that blows nobody any good, so in between of all these silly chicks there's an outsider.. Frook is not easy to be with. She's the most reserved person I've ever met. She's very friendly with people but won't let anyone get really close to her. She's a complex mix... a frightened child yet an energetic friend, a brisk worker yet a sweet doggy-mommy. She's there when I need help and support, and as she's let me take a look under her surface, I can tell she feels the same about me. Although we often have different points of view about the way we live our life, we deeply respect and care for each other. I think we met at the right time and hope our friendship will last for many many years to come.

Before working for the Addams and before working at the lab, I worked in a small office who dealt with medical remboursements for people with kidney transplants. At that time, the only places where they could have a fast transplant were Houston (USA) and Moscow (Russia), which where very expensive places to go, so we took care of all the documents needed to get some money back from the local administration. I was 19 at that time, and Lawnmo' was 28 or so. He volounteered at one of the city hospitals in the nephrology wing, giving piano lessons to the kids stuck in bed during dialysis. Sometimes he went at our office (the people I worked for where volounteers either) and spent the morning talking with me. After a short time he found a job as a gardener in a local school for disabled people, and he still works there (doing great great things). He's generous and simple, and has always treated me with the utmost kindness. Lately we've got closer than in the past; he treats me like the sister he's never had and now that we're adults I can fully appreciate the honesty of our frienship.

Chippendale is sunshine in form of a woman. She's in her late 30's and works as a mechanical engineer in a beautiful city in the north of Italy. Even if she's been there for just a few years now, she's already made a great career and is constantly doing great at what she does.
She is the happy mom of a small army of female pets (an almost-dalmatian bitch and 4 cats) with whom she shares her flat, her sofa and her warm smile. She's bright, smart and always colorfully dressed. Together with Seaweed, she's one of the three witches of my Sabbath and I love her deeply.

After the remboursement office and the lab I worked in a call center. That's where I've met Fleep and her shy manners. She's almost my age but time seems to have forgotten to leave its mark on her body making her look like a 14-years-old girl. It's quite strange how we've become so close, considering all the differences between us, but I think that our relationship is basically made of respect and trust, which is a great thing.

Growing up I've obviously found out that being friends is not exactly being alike or sharing the same way of life.

Sometimes it's all about caring and being cared for. Sometimes it's simply about being there when someone needs us. Always it's about being ourselves.

Eyes wide shut - update

2006-03-14T09:48:00.000+01:00

I wasn't cautious enough.. someone saw me while cleaning up the world from crappy K.o.M.... I thought they were asking me to pose just because I'm nice.. do you think there's any evidence of a crime?

(thanks to the guys at planearium)

Eyes wide shut

2006-03-09T16:00:00.000+01:00

7 am. I wake up. My right eye is a pulsing bulge. Sealed with some dried secretion, the eyelids are itchy and swollen.
Unless the north witch has cast a spell while I was asleep, there must be a logical explanation for this, so don't panic girl and think:

Dad's name's not Polypheme, so being a cyclop is out of question
I'm not a boxer so any overnight fight must be cancelled from the list of the possible causes
I have no particular allergyes to anything but dust, red pepper and some weeds. And none of them affects my eyes, anyway.
I actually cried before getting to sleep, and this could explain the bulge, but not the sticky crap my eyelids are glued with..

Now it's 4 pm and I still don't have a clue. I used some eye wash and it worked quite well for the itchiness, but the meatball eye's still swoooooollen.

Even in this piratesque version I came to work thinking I would have tried to take it easy and not wear my eyes out in front of bleeding pc.
I mean, I have quite a load of work to do here and I thought I would have felt guilty if I had stayed home taking care of my misterious bacterical eye. I'll go to work and try to have a quiet day, I thought. Ha!

9.03. The King of Morons calls me

K.o.M- Ehm.....ehm.....er....
me - HELLO????
K.o.M - yeah... right.... hello. Have you done all I've asked you to do?
me (remembering our last conversation) - not yet, as I told you yesterday before leaving the office, I need some 4 hours... (For Christ's sake! It's 9.03 and I'm sure the only active neuron you have is the one you're using to piss me off like this!!!)
K.oM. - oh.. so you haven't done it yet, have you?
me (through clenched teeth and with the fakest of the smiles) - correct. 4 hours from now and it'll be ready. so, I'll send you everything by 1 p.m.
K.o.M - mmmmmm....1 p.m........ does that mean that I'll have an email from you by 1 p.m?
me (with my right eye itching and my left eye trembling from anger) - .....yes....
K.o.M - oh. so it'll take 4 hours from now, right?
me - (lying on the floor with my mouth full of greyish muddy foam) positive.

After 2 hours - yes my friends, 2 hours - he calls me again

K.o.M - er.....Phi?
me (you dialled MY number, asshole, who the hell do you want it to be, Roger Rabbit?) - yes..
K.o.M - Have you completed the job?
me - .......... (deep breath) ........... (silent prayer to the god of employees) ........... NO. NOT YET.
K.o.M - (disappointed) oh. And WHEN do you think you'll be able to send me an email, then?
me (while trying to steal my only good eye with a plastic spoon) - you'll have all you need (=a cruel death, an electroshock, one or two months with just my wages to make a living..) by 1 p.m. I must have forgotten telling you (I'm dripping sarchasm and I'm stunned that the phone is not burning)
K.o.M - ok ok ok (even more disappointed) but I don't want you to call me at 5 to 1 p.m. to tell me that you've had a problem and my file won't be updated because of it!
me - don't you worry. I've never ever told you anything like that... Why should I have troubles today (I mean, apart from the fact that I'll kill you and end my days in jail?) Your file will be perfect by 1 p.m.
K.o.M - I hope so
me - and I hope you'll get hit by a truck and that the truck driver will fuck the shit out of you before soaking you in petrol and lighting a match. bye.

ok, I may have added the last line. But wouldn't it have been a perfect punchline?

They're all together ooky...

2006-03-06T16:24:00.000+01:00

I've told you some things about the people I work for. I've told you about the Company Ravishing Annual Party and their attitude about that. But that's not enough. There are some peculiar things about this firm that I feel I must share with everyone of you. The company that currently pays for my cats' food and for my Harry Potter dvd's is run by a family. Something in between the Addams, the Simpsons (only Homer and Granpa) and Dickens' Scrooge.

The father He's totally nuts. And I don't mean the kind of funny man who people would laugh at.. I'd say he's more of the "get on your knees and worship me, I'm the king of the universe" kind of dangerous crazy ones. Which is not so uncommon here in Italy - just take a look at our Premier. Anyway, he wears these glasses with a ridiculous frame with a colour that can be anything from Canary Yellow to Vomit Green and paces the rooms like a frantic ogre, which is not a good sight on a Monday morning. One of his favourite activities is to scare the shit out of everyone of us. Believe me, I'm not so easy to scare - and this has always been quite a problem with people like these - but as my contract has to be renewed in a few months I must keep calm and try not to "roundkick him to death" as some of the lads here would say.

The son #1 AKA my boss. He's 35, pretty disgusting, and with all the symptoms of a severe coke addiction. Otherwise, they could just be the first signs of the family madness, don't know. Anyway he works harder than anyone else here and it wouldn't be fair of me if I said he's just an asshole. Which he is. Most of the times. But he's not so bad, in the end.

Know you all expected the Holy Ghost to be the 3rd... but here he comes The son #2 In fact there's not so much to say about him. He's 33 and is abroad for most of the time. Most of all because he's so lazy he'd die if he really had to work. Travelling around the globe purchasing undescribably crappy items is not really a job for him. It's more like making all your relatives' effort about this firm worth a damn.

The son #3 Better known as the King of Morons. Short. Ugly as no one can say. Stinky. Ignorant. Bossy. 31 years of ugliness concentrated in a disturbing, disgusting freak. And he'll be my only co-worker during this week, as my boss is on a holiday and K.o.M needs help to sort out some problems. I mean JOB problems. As for the rest he's hopeless. This morning he showed up with an apple-green sweater worn INSIDE OUT (labels and seams happily on sight) on a deep-green face, try to figure the impact on my stomach.

Sometimes I wonder if they're like the Pharaos, you know cousin-married-to-cousin and stuff, so that after a few generations the results are some unbelievable freaks.. Go figure. This must be the only explanation. I'm working for Tutankhamon's nephews.
So.Please. Come and rescue me out of this pyramid. Do not believe to those silly rumors about curses. There's nothing like that.

I hope.

Oh I'd love to go out fishing...

2006-03-03T12:04:00.000+01:00

.. in a river or a creek but it wouldn't thrill me half as much as dancing cheek to cheek..

He was 46 at that time. He had a wife, two sons, a great job, a sucking life. The full package.

I was 29. No children, no satisfaction at work, no satisfaction in bed. The full package.

We both thought at first that the passion between us wouldn't have gone further than that: a strong attraction, a mischievous funny game we had played during our first visit into a chat website.
And I wouldn't be fair if I said Goldfish took advantage on me. I ran into our affair full speed, just like him, and we both ended up head over heels.
I loved his humour and his savoir faire. He liked my wit and my charme. We were perfect together, and this showed from our very first meeting.

We met as often as we could, I always had my suitcase ready and don't know how many hours I spent in different airports during those years..

Living in different cities spared us all that crap about meeting by chance in a mall, me with my friends, him with his family... Jeez, I could have died... But, as every woman who's ever loved a married man knows, he wasn't there for Christmas, nor for my birthday and so on. I soon grew tired of the absence but couldn't make without him and his affection. You know, it's the same old story..

We had 4 years of deep love, marvellous trips around Italy and great sex. He made me hungry for him like I had never been before, we spent hours in bed, laughing, cuddling and making the most intimate love we had had in all our life. Once we both fell asleep while kissing and woke up hours later, our lips still sealed in the sweetest of the kisses. That is actually one of the most tender moments I recall, opening our eyes in amazement and hugging tight before making love again.
We bought each other tons of books and other little presents, we talked about anything, from politics to religion, from art to food.
We're both of the gourmet kind, and every time we ate out we really had a ball.

We tried breaking up several times, but always ended up meeting again, sooner or later.

About one year ago we broke up for good.

He is a very good person. But, though he's a great father, he's a total wreck of an adult partner.
Younger than his wife, he's still childish when it comes to relationships.
He's totally unable to manage his feelings AND his life, and the road from his brain to his heart is still a total bumpy mess.

We're in touch again, now that I can talk to him with my heart beating slow and my emotions in control. He still says that I really move him, that my voice over the phone makes him tremble in emotion... yep. Right. But our time is over and I - at least - know it.

I don't regret a single tear I've shed for him, neither I feel any remorse for having been involved with a married man for so long. His marriage didn't need me to be considered a farce. I'm thankful for all the happiness I felt and all the things I've come to know about myself and my reactions and emotions as a woman and a human being. Even if it took me eons, some 15 lbs lost and a bleeding heart to tear him from me.

Now I've learnt a useful lesson about my deepest needs and while he's still there fancing tender memories I prefer to live a real life.

As good as it gets.

The Bee-tch is back part 2

2006-03-02T15:11:00.000+01:00

Summer of 2003 was a hard one to go through. My love life was getting flushed down the toilet, the only job I found was in a call center and I had no weekends and no holidays like the rest of my friends. When I was free they worked, when I worked they were free. So I had quite a lot of spare time to spend with myself.

After the German asshole, Bee had just started going out with another man, a mild sweet eyed Indian guy, short and thin. She's quite tall, buxom and rather fat... I'll spare you all the evil jokes we all made about him breaking his bones when in bed under her... yeah, we're a bunch of buggers, at times...

During those months I wrote a huge amount of stuff for the cooking lessons I wanted to start in autumn, and - in all modesty - I did a great job. I even learned to use new tools on my pc to make a leafleat and some other advertising material. We had no money at all, but I was very driven and when I really love something I could climb the mountains... All this material was given to print and had a great success wherever we showed it.

It took me quite a while to convince Bee that we could make it with the lessons, as she didn't feel comfortable at the idea of speaking "in public" and teaching - she's more of the silent artist kind - but she couldn't deny the facts: the idea was good and the time had come for us to actually DO something.

So, after a few months' preparation, the classes started. We had two different groups of people, and it was very good for a start. The lessons turned up to be very funny and interesting, we were different but complementary and people really enjoyed themselves while learning. The kitchen was colorful and lively with fresh vegetables, I made some arrangements with different cereal grains (black rice, barley, corn and so on), she put bunches of wheat ears around the room... Jeez.. it was a feast!

The courses ended in late May 2004 and as in April I had started my current job - but hadn't quit with the call center yet - I often worked from 8 am to midnight. So, while I was dead tired and trying hard to survive my two jobs, she thought well to throw loyalty and trust out of the window and secretly started another course. All by herself. The devil teaches us his tricks but not how to hide them, so one evening Minnie told me to have seen Bee showing off "her" success about the last course.. That was the last straw.

I felt naive, betrayed, angry, sad, let down and anything you may think about.

It took me months to simply talk about this to my friends. And lots of counselling sessions to learn that - simple as that - signs were there from the start. Things went the only way they could. I could have been wiser, smarter, whatever, but the truth was I had needed her as a friend, and I had needed to prove myself I could make it with the lessons.

In the end, I'm not angry anymore. There are times when I miss her. Times when I long for our time together, our talks and all those cold winter evenings spent on her couch, a cup of tea and the warmth of a family.

That's why, when she called me last week, I anwered quietly and, since she asked, gave her my home number. I perfectly knew she wasn't going to call me despite saying the contrary.

You see, as generous as she can be, she'll never be trustworthy. And that's what brings this story to an end.

The Bee-tch is back part 1

2006-02-24T11:49:00.000+01:00

We started meeting in 2001. At that time I still worked in a lab, lived with Pi, and lead a very routinary life. She lived with her little girl's dad - they were calling it quits, actually - and was a housewife.

We lived in adjoining flats in the city centre; while Pi often used to have a cup of coffee with her in the morning - he had his "airbrush factory" set in a part of our flat, so he mostly worked at home - I rarely happened to see her, if not in the hall of the building. But oh, even that was enough...I couldn't stand her "age of Aquarius" manners, her flowerpower style. Most of all, I couldn't stand the fact that she wanted to convince us all that we would undoubtedly be destined to a horrible death if we didn't change our lifestyle. Not that she even remotedly knew what our lifestyle was, but maybe just wearing "normal" clothes and not shabby formless dresses was, for her, a sign of our incapability to lead a proper life. Let alone the fact that we didn't start our day with half an hour of indian chants, so we really had to be a couple of poor lost souls who needed to be saved.

Despite my reluctancy, she used to invite me for a cup of tea once a week. The grumpy me thought: Well, she's being nice and playing her "perfect neighbour" role, so why spoil her fun? And so we started our good-neighbourhood routine. And I learned my first (partial) lesson: never judge a book by the cover (though don't expect a cheap crappy novel to be a masterpiece, I should have added... but I'm anticipating the facts..)

During those tea-chats we both discovered something we hadn't seen at first. I found a really generous person, with a strong motherly attitude and a secret pain which I could only sense, then. I always soften when I see something hidden in the deep of a person. Especially pain. And so I couldn't help but change my mind slowly. As for me, she found a woman who managed with all odd jobs that frightened her so much (I'm quite a good plumber, electrician, mason and so on..) and who was so different from her usual friends... I didn't treat her as a moron, for a change..

In less than 6 months lots of things changed in our lives. We both separated from our men, I lost my job, found another lover and another job. She moved to a different flat and devoted herself to a man in Germany who broke her heart in tiny bleeding pieces, the crazy bloke. We became very close friends. I think we both clinged to our newborn friendship careless of the differences between us. She was so motherly and I was so firm and strong - except for sentimental matters, of course. We both needed a piece of the family we had never had. My mom was frequently ill and was never really able to be interested in both me and my brother until I was almost 24. Bee's father simply left her and her mom when she was not more than 3. They're still in touch, but he never really took care of her.

Soon we discovered that we shared a very strong passion for food, nutrition and cooking, and that we both thought life had to be lived in a "healthy" and spiritual way. I accepted her Indian chants and her messy house - the new was messier than the old one.. - and she accepted my tiny kitchen and my quiet and private way to live my religious feelings.
We started developing a cooking project together, and spent hours cooking and experimenting just like happy scientists. We were so enthusiastic and energetic that our simple ideas soon took form of a real work.

We still had some quarrels - her little girl was a genuine pain in the ass, she broke thosands of things in my house, she even ruined a gold necklace my mommy gave me for my 30th birthday and she never ever scolded her. As some things run in the family, Bee succeded in breaking almost everything I lended her: a brand new iron (hers was already broken), an electric oven (her third flat had no oven) and so on.

But I was in such a pain then (guess what? I was dying for a man..) and she was oh so generous in taking care of me... I felt that something wasn't working the right way but our little project was oh so important for me... that I simply thought that feelings were much more important than things, our common desire to start cooking professionally was much more important than a broken oven..
She may have been unloyal and silly and you'll see how much of the both, but actually, in spite of all that happened afterwords, I still think this is one of the greatest lessons I've learnt from our friendship.

Feelings, when they're true, are always much more important than anything else.

--end of part one --

Star(ring) people

2006-02-24T11:09:00.000+01:00

I wrote some posts in the last few days but none of them has been published yet.
The fact is that the more I write the more I find my own words "too much" to be published.
Too angry, too sarchastic, too boring, too much of a psychobabble crap...

It's a very peculiar period, made of unpredictable events, with long gone people showing their faces again, much to my quiet surprise.

Bob, Bee, Mr.Charmes, Goldfish just to say some.
And I realize that it's impossible to write about it all without having introduced them properly.

So, how about talking about them, instead of me, for a change? They're people who really meant or still mean a lot to me, some I deeply cared for, some I'd like to smash their head hard with a baseball bat.

I'll post different entries for everyone of them - except for Mr.Charmes who really has no secret left for anyone of us. I was planning to finally confess that he actually is Luke Skywalker's dad but don't know.. it would spoil all of the fun, wouldn't it?

Wannabe

2006-02-17T15:19:00.000+01:00

After so many years I know, at least: I've wasted my time.
What was I thinking when I decided to start my working life? I mean, come on, how could I ever attain fulfilment of my deepest aspirations if I don't follow my real inclination?

I know, it's not so easy to fully understand one's talent.. but a few days ago, during my daily online-news roaming, my real calling saw the light. Epiphany, as we call it.

Somewhere in Thailand there's this group of people - who I'm willing to emule as soon as I'll be able to breath again - who has started a "dive with the shark" activity.

I think it substantially consists of diving amongst the sharks in a huge swimming pool. Sort of. And we all know how much I love being surrounded by sharks, don't we?

This you may not notice, as the people in the pics are wearing their wet suits, but they're priests. Who else, if not someone allowed to directly talk to God, could decide to mess with life like that?
"Dear God, the shark's going to swallow me in just one gulp, could You kindly help me?"
"mmmmm.....don't know.... I'm having sort of fun, actually... "
"C'mon God, I'm Your faithful servant... I'm a priest!!"
"oh, ok then... Let's see what I can do... I could... OH!! Too late! That shark's really smart, isn't it?"
WTF!!

L is for lover

2006-02-15T16:41:00.000+01:00

I won't pretend to ignore bloody Valentine's day.
Neither I'll pretend being in a good mood, which I'm not. At all.

One year ago on Valentine's Day I was fuming with rage at Goldfish and trying hard not to lose my temper because of Mr.Charmes, who was starting then to force me into a deeper relationship.
Same time, same place, one year later I'm fuming with rage because of Thomas' rudeness (yeah, can you believe it?) and trying hard not to buy a chainsaw to slaughter him, Mr.Charmes and some passer-by - you know, chainsaw slaughters can cause addiction..
Thomas' revelation (and revolution) is worth a whole post, so I won't spoil the coming update with any news. Anyway, from last year not so much time has passed but there are so many things I have learnt since then that I feel I'm 10 years older (read: tired and weary, not wise and sage). This is something one should to be very grateful of, and I am indeed.. I'm almost happy, in spite of cloying, sickening Valentine's atmosphere.
Don't know much about the way this is celebrated around the world, apart from nice postcards and stuff, but here in Italy it's mostly a "buy-me-flowers-and-chocolate-and-pretend-we're-happier-than-ever" sort of stuff. A very very romantic-faking celebration, you know, so romantic that even Scarlet O'hara would puke at the mere thought of it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for love and romance. So sweet am I, that I can even recall two tender Valentine's moments of my life, and just the memory of those puts a smile on my face.
The both are strangely related to jewels, even if I really couldn't care less about gold or stones... mmm... Should I change "sweet" with "greedy"? Anyway...
The first one was in 1993. I still lived at my parents' then, and I was sitting near the fireplace when Pi arrived with a tiny box. As I may have told you before, he is an artist (though now is deeply involved in a total money-making job) and never seems to remember anything, not to talk about birthdays, anniversaries and so on. That is the reason why we used to have our personal Valentine's day, which we also invented a nickname for, several times a year, whenever one of us was in the mood for a celebration.
That year, he came at my parents' home to see me as he did almost everyday. I don't remember if we wanted to go out or not, but maybe not as I remember being in my pj's...Jeez, it was an awful pink pj's that would have made anyone scream in horror... he didn't, and this could actually be the first thing to prove he was deeply in love with me..
Anyway, he came and gave me this tiny box and... there lied a little lovely ring with an oval lapislazuli (which had been one of my favourite semiprecious stones for years).
I don't know why but I cherish this memory so so much.. maybe because it was more than 10 years ago, maybe because we were both young and so trustful, or just because we were so madly in love... don't know. Anyway, that ring's still in my bedside table drawer and the memory, as you see, I still tenderly treasure.

The second memory is about Valentine's day 2002. Goldfish had come to see me, here in my hometown. We had been together for less than one year then. We lived in very distant places (still do) and in spite of passion and love, our daily routine was made of loooong phone calls instead of hoooooooooooot kisses. C'est la vie. But that day we were together, happy and foolish like every other lover in the world. We went out for dinner, spent a lovely evening together and eventually came back home, longing for each other's arms and lips. We were so passionate and tender that I'm still moved at the thought!
While chatting under the blankets (you know, candlelights, incense burning and all) he asked me to straighten up and sit on the mattress, close my eyes and turn my back at him. Ok. I love these games, the little girl within me thought, overjoyed, so c'mon man...!
A second later I felt something cold around my neck. Two seconds later I was staring at myself in the mirror. Naked and glowing in candlelight, a lovely white gold necklace glittering around my neck. Tre seconds later I was overwhelmed by emotion, tears flooding down my eyes, his arms around me and my heart in the skies.
Either Goldfish and Pi have been really important men in my life. And they both sent me a Valentine greeting today, which I found very sweet.

I may not have a man in my life now, I may be still in pain for all the recent events, but one thing I know for sure: the greatest thing you'll ever learn is learn to love and be loved in return.

celebrate good times, come on!

2006-02-13T10:29:00.000+01:00

This is my 50th post. Sounds like something worth a little celebration, no?

As it would be quite hard for me to reach everyone of you with a piece of my delicious ricotta and chocolate tarte.. I thought a 50some-list was the best thing I could share.. (yep, easy and cheap... )

Keep some toothpicks at handle, you know... just in case..

1) this blog is one of the best things I've given myself as a present.

2) my eyes are dark green. Everyone thinks I wear coloured contacts. I hate when they ask "nice colour... where did you buy your lenses?"

3) I'm a great cook. There are times when I think that I'm not. And that people tell me so just because they have a bad taste... but I'm working on this masochistic side of myself... ;-)

4) When I was 6 I wanted to be an English teacher and hid behind the door of the English class while supposed to play basket (which I hated and still do)

5) Chocolate is my favourite taste ever

6) When I was a baby I talked so much my parents used to get so weary that they were forced to call some relatives to share the stress...

7) I've always thought my brother was a definite genius. Nonetheless I definitely feel that I'm the eldest and can still teach him something.

8) I want to have a baby before I turn 36. At least one.

9) I can't stand raw food but I love sushi and carpaccio.

10) When I started taking the pill I gained some 24 lbs. And looked like this. Fortunately now, after some 14 years of healthy food, I look like this..

11) I don't like very thin men. The entire range from skinny to just thin. It's like there's an aura of frailty about them that deeply disturbs me..

12) I don't eat pork meat, nor lamb, nor small poultry. Actually, I try not to eat anything animal exception made for eggs and milk. And smoked salmon (yep, I'm a sinner)

13) I have an astoundingly high-developed sense of smell. It often happened that I could smell something my man ate or drank (or whatever) even the day before. I have a great sight from the distance and quite a sharp sense of taste, but an awful hearing.

14) I don't like modern fairytales. Exception made for Harry Potter which I ADORE.

15) I only know one lullabye. I'd better learn some others before time comes for me to rock any baby to sleep... ;-)

16) Sometimes I'm so old fashioned in what I do (cooking, sewing, baking, knitting, stitching...) that I wonder if I will ever meet a man who suits me or have to look for Marty McFly in the 50's. In which case, my car's not suitable for the trip..

17) I can't dirty talk out of bed. Overusing words weakens them.

18) I mispelled the italian word for "elephant proboscis" till I was 26. Otherwise I never ever have mispelled an italian word (as far as I know) since I was 7

19) I was a phone addict. My longest phone call lasted 7 hours and a half. Overnight

20) I can't stand birds

21) I own lots of colourful and matching underwear. Posh, funny, cute, sexy.. whatever you're looking for, here it is in my drawer

22) I love swimming but I panick in dark depth

23) Once I had sex inside a wrecked house burned by lava on the slopes of a volcano. The main floor was bottomless and it was very dangerous. Unfortunately that was the only exciting thing about that all..

24) Natural scents - such as that of a man's skin after a shower - really turn me on, just as bad smells make me cranky and aloof

25) I've never bitten my nails

26) I have 52 pairs of shoes. If I were rich I'd have hundreds

27) I never ever lie. Unless THIS is a lie..

28) I'm an excellent driver. And, no, I haven't starred in Rain man..

29) I love travelling by train or plane

30) I'm all for oral sex. Unless it comes to receiving it. And receiving it from a clumsy lover. Jeez!

31) I only have a few memories of my childhood. Nearly none of them is before 1978. It's pathological but true

32) I like myself more than I'm willing to admit even if at times

33) I blame myself for almost anything... much more than a normal human being should... I'm afraid that's what comes with Catholicism..

34) I can't phisically stand men who look like they have no bones.. or make me sense that there's kind of a Mr.Doughnut within them, soft, white, sticky... Good gracious!

35) I don't wear any tattoo but

36) I have a small piercing which I made in Florence some 7 years ago, as a souvenir from that vacation

37) I should put braces on my teeth. It's not they're really really bad but... well, I should. And I will. But not before having found a real significant one (... no connection at all with n.30, you nasty folks..)

38) I do believe that what goes around comes around. The wheel of life and stuff

39) I've been in analysis for three years now, and I don't regret a single cent I've given my holy counsellor

40) I have no regrets about my past. Except for quitting university. That still pangs me like hell

41) I easily fall in love with men who can really teach me something.

42) Yesterday night I ate 1 kg of homemade creme caramel. It was the first time I did it so good and I couldn't resist devouring it!

43) I'm a very good listener even if

44) I talk so so much.

45) I've never faked an orgasm. But I faked excitement, which is maybe even worse... oh, he was sooooo boring...poor one..

46) I'm a Taurus, Cancer ascendant. For what it means.

47) Today I'm in an awful mood. I wish I was home, on the sofa, taking a nap.

48) I'm good at forgiving. Awful at forgetting.

49) I want to start some daily meditation routine very soon

50) I'm quite happy, in the end!

Scar tissue

2006-02-07T11:17:00.000+01:00

My awfully aching neck has kept me home for two days now, but haven't been able to set my mind on writing.
Staying home is making so many memories come to surface, it's a really tough moment.

My weekend was quite good. Went at Thomas' for dinner on Saturday (japanese curry and rice, homemade icecream and a few hours of good sex, almost the same recipe of our last time together... )and spent the night there. He was sweeter then ever, made me really feel home and shared his pillow and his thoughts. Anyway I got back home on Sunday, lunchtime, with an unbelievable headache and the bluest of the moods.

The fact is that, the more I spend my time with funny, caring, loving Thomas, the more I feel sad about Mr.Don't-you-ever-cross-my-path-anymore-Charmes.
I'm sad for all the things that might have been and that won't be. I'm sad because this man is definitely a great person, a good lover, a smart friend... but he's not someone I could live with... and this really is such a shame..
I feel sad because I know it's much too early for me to even think about committing to anyone. It's like having a battle within, one Phi needs to get a grip on herself, have her healthy life back and to do that she needs to be alone, no strings attached; the other one desperately longs for hugs and affection, for someone who looks at her with admiration and desire.

Is this the first step to schizophrenia? (what the heck do you mean with "you're further than this"????)

I feel very clearly that my heart is covered with scars, and none of them has healed yet. Scars made of anger, disrespect, desperate passion and indifference, all mixed in a poisonous cocktail that I drank taking long draughts until last month.
Now I'm kinda clearing my system, but it will take a little bit more time to leave this withdrawal symptoms behind.
And to look at those scars with a quiet smile, knowing I made it through. Once again.

Don't speak

2006-02-02T01:08:00.000+01:00

I just got home from the theatre. It's 1.10 am and tomorrow's a bloody working day. I'm tired but a bit too excited to get to sleep. I'm listening to some music. One song, then another.. and another...and here it comes: don't speak. I start crying as I always do when I listen to it. Wherever I am, I can't stop tears from falling.
Don't ask me why, it made me feel this way even when I couldn't understand the lyrics..
It's like someone turned on a switch and ooops, tears flood out

But tonite it's not just the switch stuff.

It's that I haven't allowed myself to cry that much since Mr.Charmes has left. This gives me a great excuse to let myself go and let some of the pain go away with these tears.
Kind of doing the laundry on my soul. Useful and clean. Thanks to Mrs. Stefani.

Wrong impression

2006-01-29T11:07:00.000+01:00

I know I haven't written a single word after my date with Thomas, so now I'll have to fill the void before adding the last events..

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..

The show must go on

2006-01-24T17:46:00.000+01:00

His name is Thomas. He's funny and sensitive. He's an English teacher and can speak Italian. He's been here for 7 years now, is 36 and has brown hair. He likes British football and rugby - which I like. Loves baklava and creme caramel - which I like, too. He has the brightest sense of humour I've ever found in a man - apart from my brother, of course... He hasn't got a driver's licence yet and goes to work by motorbike. He doesn't like the sound of his own voice.

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?

Quiz Show

2006-01-19T18:21:00.000+01:00

...I'm not so sure I'd date him... even if he has lots of things in common with my last man... he was a bit wolfish too and I LOVED IT!!
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)...

What Harry Potter Character would you be dating??

Remus Lupin. You like em sexy, sweet and sensitive, at times, you prefer a more wild side.
Take this quiz!

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Revenge

2006-01-19T10:34:00.000+01:00

From today's news: looks like a scientific research ended up saying that revenge is mostly a male subject. We don't seem to have the same instinct, the same small brain portion dedicated to it. As I heard it on the radio, at the moment I can't provide any link proving this amazing discovery, but I hope you trust me in the meanwhile.

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?

Under the sea

2006-01-17T18:11:00.000+01:00

Everyone of us has his/her Achilles heel. I've never been afraid of bees, snakes, lizards or whatever a child may find in the courtyard but I'm not so at ease at the thought of rats mice and cockroaches. I couldn't really consider these as real fears, though.
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...

Money's too tight to mention

2006-01-13T12:02:00.000+01:00

When I was younger I was very good at saving money. I made miracles with the little income I got from my first job, and much more so when I moved with Pi in our tiny apartment.
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

"Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? For after all these things do the Gentiles seek: for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things"

I may be the less catholic woman in this catholic country, but I'm deeply religious and as a general principle I do believe this. Every religion says something like that, from East to West, why should I deny it..!

Anyway, a lot of work is needed to keep calm when a flat tyre is enough for your finances to collapse!! Anne has a really smart opinion on this...

The Fab Four

2006-01-11T17:33:00.000+01:00

I'm back to the list addiction... a harmless one, at least (at list?at least?...)! This is something I found on this site, so thanks to Lia!

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:

Florence
London
A small place in the mountains in France
Rome

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
gmail.google.com

Four favorite foods:

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!)
sushi
chocolate cake
spinach lasagne (or the standard lasagne with tomato sauce)

Four places I'd rather be right now:

swimming pool
cinema
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

Hedonism

2006-01-09T17:42:00.000+01:00

As you have probably noticed I like choosing the titles for my posts amid those of songs I like (or band names or sentences from songs). It's a little game I play with myself.
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

Brother

2006-01-05T20:31:00.000+01:00

The time has come for all of you to get to know my brother. TA - DAAAA!!!

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

2006-01-05T11:00:00.000+01:00

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.
We met.
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.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

2005-12-24T17:44:00.000+01:00

Yes, that's what I'm gonna do... Have a merry little sweet Christmas with my family and friends.
Tonite I'm having Sikbros for dinner, which is quite original for italian tradition... I mean, spending Christmas Eve with a friend and not with your family.. but my family never thought much of this tradition, moreover my brother's away.. and I always thought that feasts like this are meant for us to be happy and peaceful, so the only important thing is that we do what make us feel better!
I really enjoy my time home when someone's due to come... it's really like waiting for Santa to go down the chimney!! I spent all day cooking and tiding up and now here I am, with a huge glass of rum&coke - I rarely drink alcohol, actually, but today I felt like having something "grown up".. - and I'm so so relaxed.. the house's cozy and warm, the air smells of incense and chocolate (a luscious cake has just been taken out of the oven) and the coffee table is covered with colourful presents..
I'm pretty happy and I didn't thought it could happen, without Mr Charms by my side on such a special evening.
But that's how it goes!
I don't know why, but this year I indulged in buying lots of presents and I deeply enjoyed it... not to mention the fun I had in wrapping them up with bright coloured paper and tiny decorations I made by myself... Take a look!!

To everyone of you greetings for a peaceful and joyful Christmas!

highly strung

2005-12-15T18:15:00.000+01:00

Do you ever get the feeling that life's running through your fingers like the sand?
Well, I do. At times I think the sand has turned into lava, killing bees or crappy slime, but this doesn't change things much. If not for the scars, burns and puking, I mean.

Anyway, time's running fast towards the end of the year, and just like every year, I start taking stock of my life and wishing I could fall asleep today and wake up on January 7th.
Not that I don't like Christmas.. I love choosing, buying and wrapping up presents, cooking for friends, having some time to sit in front of the fire eating oranges, chestnuts and panettone..
It's just that my melancholy becomes unbearable, the least thing moves me... you know, all that sort of things!
So I'm trying to avoid all this sticky feelings doing as many things as I can. And I'm quite good at that!
In the last week off work I succeded in:
- have some laundry done (don't you think that's easy.. you never saw the huge amount of carpets and stuff I must wash because of the cats...)
- start reading The House of Sleep, which I'm loving, and buy some other great books
- put some Christmas decoration in my flat - cuuuuuute!!!
- have some more Christmas shopping done
- dowload a cd I've helplessly looked for in the last 6 months

but, just to remember me that nobody's perfect, I also....
- spent tons of money on lingerie-shoes-clothes-books I truly couldn't afford (Carrie Bradshaw knows NOTHING about shopping... I mean, about going shopping with ridiculous wages like mine...)
- managed to get as sad and dramatic as a Bergman movie. Only a bit less artistic..
- lost the car keys and had the car forcefully opened by my holy mechanic (it goes without saying, this ruined some plans I had for a night out)
- skipped as many meals as I could (believe me folks, I do not need a diet..) cause I didn't feel like taking care of myself and maybe wanted to vanish in the air, don't know
- convinced myself that nobody will ever love me 'cause I'm as pleasant as a huge pimple on the nose. When you're a model. And you're allergic to camouflage make up.

Not too bad for one single week, uh?

The gift #2

2005-12-13T01:11:00.000+01:00

But, as I don't want to sound too much of the complaining type, here's the positive version of the list

fifteen things I wish I had for Christmas

(as I'm just wishing, I'll put no limit to my fantasy...)

1) a new car. Mine's starting to look older than Noah's Ark. Only fewer animals in there.
2) a larger group of friends to go out with
3) all Woody Allen's movies on dvd
4) a new job. Or at least a respectable boss and a raise!
5) a cheap and effective heating system for my house. Freezing my buttocks is not exactly my idea of keeping young..
6) Harry Potter's magic wand and a book of spells
7) a ring..let's say a wedding ring. If possible with Right Man at the other side of the box...
8) free plane tickets to Rome, Paris, London and Bucarest for at least 5 years (Ysera, I really want to see you!)
9) bigger breasts. I don't care if it's stupid or superficial. I wish I had breasts I couldn't close my arms too easily on. Mine - as I lost a lot of weight lately - are so small I hardly remember they're there...not only I can close my arms, I could squeeze myself so tight I could break my ribs without hurting my breasts..
10) the invitation for a seshin of zen meditation
11) something from my mommy I could always take with me (a thin bangle or something like that)
12) good news about my brother's life. lasting good news. he lives far away and I worry nonstop about him as an old hen with her chick.
13) peace of mind. even episodically!
14) shoes I couldn't ever afford
15) unlimited chances

The gift #1

2005-12-13T01:00:00.000+01:00

not that I hope it works in any way - as nobody in my family reads my blog or even knows I run one - but..
here's my list of the

ten things I wish I'll never receive (again or for the first time...) as a Christmas present

1) scarves and/or gloves and/or hats. jeeez!!
2) books I'd never read, as how-to-do funny manuals or poetry. I can't read them. No hope.
3) face masks or stuff like that. I'm getting old. No way to avoid it, so don't foolish me. Unless you're willing to spend tons of money on really good products.
4) tiny objects meant only to catch all of the dust in a range of 10.000 km
5) socks. I have a drawer exploding with cozy socks I'll never wear.
6) pj's. Unless I can choose it myself.
7) anything for the house. the only things I need here are a man and a dishwasher. Doubt I can obtain neither as a gift.
8) jewels of any kind. unless they're darn cute and suit my style perfectly.
9) perfums. I don't wear any. Who knows me, knows this.
10) food (as sweets or things like that). I'm trying hard to eat as a human being and not as a bee. So stop giving me anything with sugar in it. I'm addicted, you should know!!

Dancing queen

2005-12-12T00:26:00.000+01:00

I just got home after a night out with Pi and a friend of his. We had a great pizza then went salsa dancing.
I hadn't danced for quite a while and I felt my legs as they were made of wood...Dan, Pi's friend, is pretty good at Cuban salsa, and the more I danced the more I felt as Dumbo... awful!

Coming back home I realized that I miss dancing quite that much, as I miss going out a bit more than I do, as I miss being looked at. You know, when you're wearing something nice and your hair is nice and your make up is still on and you're on the dance floor smiling and everything seems lighter....
Yeah, I do miss being girlish and lighthearted.
The question is: how can we miss being something we've never been?

Erase or rewind

2005-12-10T01:18:00.000+01:00

I didn't vanish in the air as I wanted. Nor I left him without any word. He didn't let me the time to do it.
I picked up the phone thinking it was my mommy with the daily rate of bad news - my family's going through a real hard time - but it was him instead.
I thought he didn't call me on the cell phone cause he felt I was plotting something and feared I wouldn't have answered if I had seen his number. Not that I said anything, but he still feels my thoughts, a bit more clearly everyday.

He didn't leave me much time to think or to talk, he apologized for the fight we had and told me he feels confused by what is happening. He said we're both walking on some sort of minefield, for this situation is new for the both of us and we're both feeling strange, but he wants to keep walking holding my hand, being true, wearing no mask.
He won me, I admit that.
I still think this is a dead end road, and he's a bit too comfortable in this role, with few duties and lots of rights... it'd be so so easy for him to run away again at the first sign of what he thinks it's danger...

I'm such a spineless slug at times!

Anyway, I'm waiting for my counselling session on Tuesday before even breathing in his direction. I'm completely lost in my fears and thoughts, anything I could do now would be wrong. In any way.

Christmas time just makes things worse.

With or without you

2005-12-08T09:02:00.000+01:00

I knew this would have happened. I've felt the time coming in tiny steps, like those of a child on Christmas Eve, tiptoeing to the presents under the tree.
And now the time has come for me to say goodbye. What's the use in waiting?

I can't wish you anything good. You had the best and couldn't manage the happiness of it.
Can't wish you love or affection. You had them both and couldn't stand that fullness.

I don't know which kind of a tale you're telling to yourself, but I decided to stop telling myself anyone.

At first I really believed I wasn't in love with you anymore. And I'm still sure about the fact I'm not in love with the guy who left me running down the stairs like a thief.
But the one who came back a few weeks ago, willing to talk and make things clear, the one who came nursing me one week ago, after a nightshift's work and with a 3 hours car trip because he "couldn't stand being so far knowing I felt that bad"... well, I can't resist him.

As I don't want to make a fool of me I think it's time to part. I do love you and I feel I've always loved you.
That would scare you to death, I guess. And that's why I'm writing it where you'll never read.
And where I can always look up to remind me why I left you without any word, a few days before Christmas, with my heart broken. Again.

Girls just want to have fun

2005-12-04T13:01:00.000+01:00

Ok. Fever has gone. The sorethroat's still there, with the razors blades and all, but I left!! I took a plane yesterday night and here I am, at Seaweed's, keeping you posted about my life.
This town is rainy and cold, but we're going out shopping and I'm firmly intentioned to let my thoughts go and my soul fly.
Just wanted to share this feeling, so now I'll take off my pj and turn myself into the most gorgeous sorethroated diva the world has ever seen!!!

Fever

2005-12-01T19:45:00.000+01:00

Today's the first day of a fortnight off work. This year I've worked as a dog and only had some days off, so now (as the lovely buch of morons I work for doesn't want us to accumulate holidays) I MUST stop for some days before Christmas.
Not so bad, I thought.
During the last week I've worked even harder - this is one of the reasons I didn't have the time to write at all - waiting for Dicember 1st as it was the end of a detention.. no crosses on the walls, no banging on the bars of the prison... but you know what I'm talking about..
Seaweed just finished a hard work for the Japan Week in Naples (a great event, I must say) and yesterday we decided to meet, at last.
I was supposed to leave my town on Friday evening and get back here on Tuesday. I checked for plane tickets and decided to buy them today in the morning.
But you know, you can never tell what life has saved for you.. In my case, life kept by for me a raging fever, a flu, the throath full of razor blades, the worst headache ever..
No holidays. No planes. No Seaweed.
Just me and my couch, tigthly held, and those 3 little furry devils.
I know it sounds irresistible, but don't ask for the receipt, like every great chef I don't share my secrets!!!

Thursday's Friday's Feast

2005-11-22T11:58:00.000+01:00

This is last Friday's Feast, I'd like every reader to feel tagged!

Appetizer: When do you feel impatient?
When I must wait for answers (i.e. after a job interview) or for phone calls by a man

Salad: How many times in your life have you had a broken heart?
I'd say twice by lovers, twice by friends, lots by mom.

Soup: Name a book you would like to see made into a movie.
None... it's very hard for a movie to be better or at least as good as a book!!

Main Course: If you could thank one teacher for what they taught you, who would it be and what would you thank them for?
Donatella, who taught me how to write proper Italian when I was 8. I've never forgot what I learned then.
Ms. Pani, who taught me English when from 11 to 13. She was simply great at what she did, and made me love foreign languages even more (as if it was possible...)
Ms.Camba who taught me to typewrite at lightspeed and write down in shorthand. The last has never been useful but had me having a great time at school (yeah..I was such a grind!)
And the greatest of the teachers, my grandma who's looking down at me from Heaven. For she taught me how to be smart, proud, generous, trustworthy and ironic. She also taught me to love cooking, and she's the one from whom I learned to cook the best cannelloni ever. Wonderful special marvellous grandma.

Dessert: What is your favorite kind of pie?
In Italy we're not so accustomed to pies, cakes are most our style. But since I'm a dessert-cooking-addict and I've spent all of my money on international cookbooks, I'd say that my favourites are:
Everything about chocolate
Apples pecans and cinnamon
Pears and figs
Red berries and rhubarb
All of them warm with an obscene amount of whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

Love me tender

2005-11-21T23:41:00.000+01:00

I have no words left tonite. I'm moved to tears. Amazed by my own heart. It's such a flood I can't help drowning. No love can be greater than this. Losing our ego we really find ourselves.

I will survive

2005-11-21T20:09:00.000+01:00

There are lots of unpredictable and awful things in life. Events you hardly recover from. So was yesterday's Company Ravishing Annual Party. C-r-apital letters are there on purpose...
ok..Let's explain a little bit more..

Company: I've worked for these donkeys for one year and a half now, and I've realized that these people do make me sick like no one I've ever known in life. Liars, skinflints, redneck morons. In my village we have a saying that goes something like "a louse in a silk bag", meaning someone really crappy wrapped in money or in power or whatever. Just what they are, in the end: styleless chaps pretending to be classy.
Ravishing: don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean charming, it's more on the kidnapping side... you can't run and you can't hide, if you miss the invitation you're sure to be mocked in the alleys, tortured in the bathroom and - as happened to me last year - summoned in the Great Chief's Office, the one with human skin armchairs and stuffed ex-employees heads on the walls.
Annual: yep, no way they miss one bloody year..
Party: it is techically kind of a lunch in a grand reastaurant. Practically there's no word to describe this so-called event. It's like a little crowd of victimes taken hostage by a bunch of delirious assholes who try to boost their ego with ridiculous speeches, music, wine..just let your imagination do the rest.

So yesterday - my day off work, in theory - I had to endure this experience. My temper hasn't strenghtened, my patience hasn't increased. Yet I went back with a sore throat because of the heating and a stomach full of cockroaches - or so it felt. Spent the rest of the evening chasing down the world for any form of real/human life - well, I basically stayed on the couch knitting, but you won't be too strict, will you?

oh, we've been lucky if compared to what happened last year ... at least we didn't have to wear green clownish wigs..

Till death do us part #2

2005-11-20T20:57:00.000+01:00

ok, this should be a rough translation... just hope it's better than Google translator... :)

Wrinkled hands
sheep skin dried in the sun
knots and roots
juniper barked wood
crooked little finger, even more crooked,
dark and fresh skin that lingered on my breast in the days of dawn.
Restless hands, painted and lined in years without respite, traces and furrows.
Bland bite marks, grass stains while you played as a child, fall cause you know how to fall
the huge dog has fun
tender dribbling curly he loves you.
Me too.
Letting you stay there on the lawn
the huge dog
curly and black
his jumps your smile
what a delicious and content loss, careless and perfect
Tiny twittering bites in the days as ripe as apples
full spring in adult life
and the moon-shaped little face of the new-born pet who looks at you with my eyes and smiles with your smile.
Tiny paws on your hands.
I stood apart, watching you, with the subtle pleasure of Creator, universal thought of a purring tiger with her pet safe and sound, the throb who has sprang up from your bites on my neck, roaring and strenght.
so now there you are, placid lion with your kingdom all around, you’ll roar again but now close your eyes and breathe with me, breathe for me for the last time.
you move with usual gestures, that I complete in my mind for you while I’m not looking, intent, frowned or sleepy
I feel your eyelashes batting, your blood run your thoughts grow thick just before you talk, call me, I know. I linger in looking and your breath in the distance broadens my chest.
you breathe warm wind in the winter which meddles in between us, harsh and biting
Plant some bulbs, laugh, grow older. Don’t be anything else. Don’t be anyone else. Sigh, sleep. Cherish me within you.
Every day from now on will be different from those you had with me, no one has ever been the same, I leave in the one and only absence pain don’t want to do it don’t want to stop being, don’t want to stop living.
My old wonderful love of a lifetime, a memory for every glance, don’t you rise your head and let me go, don’t notice me while I spy, engulf and brand you within what of me will last. If you look at me I’ll kill God, no one will ever take me away from you.
Lined hands juniper and walnut hold me again one second one minute one more while the colder breath fades
to die is to part a little
you’d laugh, my words would make your teeth surface from your lips.
Laugh, my love, laugh for me make me dance in your heart with shiny floors for every night you have left, your hands will be big and strong enough for every step we’ll take.
Velvet crunchy bread kiss warm the thought of me will be blanket and walking cane.
Cristal clear in the void where everything has been us.

Till death do us part

2005-11-19T02:46:00.000+01:00

This morning I had a kind of a daydream while at work. It was more, well, sort of experiencing a different personality - which I don't really know how it feels.
I was shot forward to the last minutes of my life, felt it was time to say goodbye.

What follows is what I saw in my mind. What I smelled and felt. It's about my last goodbye to my man, an old husband or companion, father of my son, which I saw - imagined - thought was sitting on a rocking chair, inside the house, while I watched him from the porch. It's in italian, as it came flowing like a river from my head to my fingers. I'll work on an English version, even if I already know it'll be profoundly unsatisfactory...

Mani rugose pelle di pecora seccata al sole nodi e radici ginepro liscio scortecciato mignolo storto ancora più storto pelle che scura e giovane indugiava sul mio seno nei giorni dell'alba.

Mani mai ferme dipinte in anni senza sosta, tracce e solchi

Segni di morsi blandi, macchie d'erba mentre razzoli come un bimbo cadi perchè sai cadere l'enorme cane si diverte tenero bavoso ricciolo ti ama e io con lui.
Lasciarti lì sul prato tu l'enorme cane ricciolo nero i suoi salti i tuoi sorrisi, che privazione soddisfatta e deliziosa, incoscienza e perfezione.

Piccoli morsi pigolanti nei giorni maturi come mele, primavera piena d'adulto e il viso rotondo del cucciolo nuovo che ti guarda con i miei occhi e sorride del tuo sorriso. Manine artiglie sulle tue. Stavo discosta a guardarvi, col sottile piacere del creatore, pensiero universale di tigre ronfante ed il cucciolo al sicuro, il palpito che è germogliato dai tuoi morsi sul mio collo, ruggito e forza.

E ora eccoti lì leone placido col tuo regno intorno ruggirai ancora ma adesso chiudi gli occhi respira con me, respira per me per l'ultima volta.

Compi gesti consueti e così acquisiti che la mia mente completa per te quando non guardo, intento o accigliato o sonnolento.

Sento le tue ciglia battere il tuo sangue fluire i tuoi pensieri farsi densi prima che parli o mi chiami, ti so.
Indugio ancora a guardarti e il tuo respiro a distanza mi apre i polmoni mi soffi vento tiepido nell'inverno che si impiccia di noi, rude, tagliente.

Interra dei bulbi, ridi, invecchia ancora. Non essere altro. Non essere un altro. Osserva, singhiozza, dormi. Curami in te.

Ogni giorno adesso sarà diverso da quelli con me, nessuno è stato uguale, vado via nel primo ed unico distacco assenza dolore non voglio farlo non voglio smettere di essere e di esserci.

Mio vecchio ruvido meraviglioso amore di una vita, un ricordo ad ogni sguardo, non sollevare gli occhi e lascia che io vada, non accorgerti di me che ti spio ti ingoio ti stampo dentro ciò che di me resterà. Se tu mi guardi ucciderò Dio e nessuno mi porterà via da te

Mani segnate ginepro e noce tenetemi ancora un istante un minuto un altro mentre il fiato più freddo si spegne morire è un po' partire.. rideresti, tu, le mie parole farebbero affiorare i tuoi denti tra le labbra.

Ridi amore mio ridi per me fammi ballare nel tuo cuore dal pavimento lucido per ogni sera che ti resta, le tue mani saranno ancora grandi abbastanza e forti per ogni passo che faremo.

Velluto pane croccante bacio tiepido il pensiero di me ti sarà coperta e bastone.

Cristallino nell'assenza dove ogni cosa è stata noi.

A night at the opera

2005-11-17T12:27:00.000+01:00

Yesterday night I went to the theatre. After what has happened in my life in the last few months I thought I deserved the best winter I could afford, so I bought a season ticket for drama.
Willing to book for opera, too, but that is much more expensive, still don't know..

After work I came home in a rush, took a shower, got my hair sleek, chose a nice outfit, wore a classy make-up and my luckycharm pearl, engulfed a sandwich in 3 secs and out I went, into the starry night.

Minnie arrived a little later. She's had a fortnight off work and has decided staying at her parents for a while. They live in a village in the country so we haven't seen each other so much, lately.

While chatting in the hall I saw Sam's friend. You know, the clairvoyant. I ducked into my coat trying to be invisible, she passed by, ok, take a deep breath girl and smile, no psychocrap for tonite.
The play sucked. Definitely.
Best thing I can say about the evening is that we girls had a long talk in the car and vented for a while.
On my way back I sang top of my lungs with good old Annie Lennox. She's always willing to make me feel the most powerful chick in the world. God bless her voice and this album.

waking up with the house on fire

2005-11-15T14:47:00.000+01:00

I let him in. Last friday. It was 2 in the morning when he called. I went to bed at 1.30 or so, and fell asleep in the middle of a sweet but hot fantasy about undressing him. So when the phone rang and I heard his voice it felt, don't know, as a prosecution of my thoughts.
He blah blah-ed something about a file he wanted to install on my pc, I thought he was kidding and asked where he was. I'm at your door.. Can I come upstairs? he said. Yes was the answer.
The facts showed he wasn't kidding at all. He had bought some book on the web and wanted to upload it to my pc. Nice, uh? At 2 am, to his ex-whatever, with no advice at all. Great.

There are situations in which I behave like I have no feelings. Like I'm anesthetized. Maybe it's because of my need to keep things in control, don't know. The frenzier things get, the firmer and calmer I behave. So was yesterday night.

He was tired, half asleep, with a pain in the back from a clumsy jump he took. We talked for a while and chilled out on the bed. Not that I believed for a single second that it was a normal situation, I'm not that nuts. Anyway, I decided to let things go, just wanted to see where they went.

Rambling thoughts:
- is he willing to make love to me? if so, let's save our time and DO IT
- did he just came to upload that file?? Ok, I'll have him locked in the proper asylum and throw away the key.
- does he really think I want to chat at 2 am after a week's work on my shoulders???
- is he really just looking for a good massage and a warm hug? Miss Nightingale's always there when you need her, uh?
- Lord, I'm such a boneless crap, strike me to my roots with a lightning and take me to the skies.

Needless to say, one thing leads to another, we had wonderful sex. Talked for a while afterwards. Hugged and cuddled. Everything a couple should do on a friday night. Except we're not in love and we're not a couple.
So what are we?
Friends? not yet.
Lovers? not enough to explain
Are we just two kids playing adults? Is this mess just the proof we're not so good in parting nor in being sharp?

I could paint his face by heart. I can read his mind and I know that he's crazy about it. I can nurture, caress, hug him like the essence of motherhood, yet can make him so horny he can't stay still. I can stare at him while he sleeps and wake him up with the slightest kiss. I play with his body like no one else has ever had. I stand tall when he vents about his troubles and doubts. I can bear him never calling me, even if it hurts. I can even take that he'll be someone else's soon. Much too soon.

One thing I cannot do.

I can't stand the sight of his back, when he leaves slightly hunched under the weight of what I can just guess are his thoughts. That he'll never share.

Nightshift

2005-11-14T22:06:00.000+01:00

P. is falling asleep in perfect fetal position on my couch.
We've planned to see the L word but I'm afraid I'll watch it by myself..
I really envy his ability to fall asleep almost wherever he is.. It's such a pity I have to wake him up to let him go back home.
Yesterday night I had to daze myself with an entire Chopin cd in hope for holy sleep to come.. earplugs, lights off, deep breathing.. and still, after one hour of so, my eyes were wide open.
My mind overloaded with tricky plans to cause unbelievable pains to Mr.Clumsy. Maybe that's my rage coming to the surface...
Watch out for my new hulk self approaching.
Oh, Chopin didn't work, but this one surely does..

Tagged: Ten Things I've Recently Learned About Myself

2005-11-13T11:49:00.000+01:00

My life has been quite jumbled these days. I met Mr.Charms and still don't know what to think about that.
He's less Charming and more Clumsy day by day, in my heart. I should feel freer than I do. Instead, I feel somehow slaved to his mood. As if he could do anything and destroy me. Again. Oh, I know he wouldn't. Not now. But nevertheless I can't stand the whole situation.
So I'm passing through a massive writer's block, if I can say "writer" and "I" in the same sentence without sounding ridiculous...
I have tons of thoughts stucked in the drafts, but cannot seem to have them in any order.

Don't want to lose the chance to stay here, in my bloggy home, anyway.

So, from Dr.Deb's

ten things I've recently learned about myself

1) I'm easily wound by words. Too easily.
2) I'm getting old. No way my thighs will ever be the same again.
3) Chocolate is not the answer. But is a damn good placebo.
4) When people pay me compliments I can believe them. I have stopped thinking they're bloody liars. At least.
5) The older I get, the more I can't hide my feelings. The older I get, the better I choose when how and with whom sharing them.
6) I'm proud of my mom. She rocks.
7) Hard as I try, there's no way I can get less critical about other people's cookery. I'm a fussy perfectionist. Yet I can be the most diplomatic person in the world if it comes about friends. Not if I'm paying for my meal, anyway.
8) I'll never get completely rid of my fears. But I'll be able to handle them, more or less, someday.
9) I'm a great lover. And I deserve a great lover. No settling for less. Not anymore.
10) A day without a smile is a rainy day. Laughter is a priceless treasure.

Heart of glass

2005-11-09T23:57:00.000+01:00

Several weeks ago I heard a Dervish saying on the radio, it was from a movie or so. It struck me so much that I stopped my car and wrote it in my cell archive.
I totally forgot it till last night, when, cancelling old messages, I found it on the cell.
Nothing comes with no sense.

God's home is in people's heart. Anybody who offends a heart offends God.

It's so delicate and powerful at the same time that it scares me..

Tuesday madness

2005-11-08T23:28:00.000+01:00

A bit late.. here we go with monday madness.
This time it's a "fill in the blankets" one.
Enjoy!

1. Sometimes I wish I could just forget what people say

2. If I could take a long weekend to drown in love and romance, I'd be very happy.

3. The world would be a better place if more people would just listen/shut up/slow down/remember where they come from.

4. One of my greatest qualities is sincerity and the total lack of any mask.

5. The one thing about me that I need to work on is... come on, are you serious???? I won't admit anything!! ok.. let's say I need to work on my emotional needs. AND on my abdomen..

6. Happiness is often well hidden inside ourselves

One more question: is there a way to confine madness only to mondays???

Alice in chains

2005-11-07T18:03:00.000+01:00

Alice in wonderland found some cookies and a bottle on a table. Eat me, drink me, they said. Some of them made her taller, some of them made her shorter, or smaller or what. She didn't know what they did unless she bit them.

We need to experience things to be able to name and describe them.

God gave Adam the power to name things, and he did. He hadn't anything to compare things with. I mean, he hadn't had any "before" in his life. He named everything in Eden following his mood or God (who else??) knows what.

We're not that lucky. We can't call a phone a star, we must call it phone, cause that's his name.We must have a reference. We learn to describe and name things comparing the new to the already known. So, if we saw a lynx for the first time maybe we'd describe it as "some kind of big, wild cat" or something like that.

What happens when we experience something that can't be compared or related to anything we already know?Are we able to recognise brand new things or do we create, unconsciously, OUR reality just to label things with usual names?

I can't find a name for this feeling. I never felt like this before. I'm wrong in calling it love, need, lust, affection, friendship or tenderness. Whatever I could say it would be completely out of focus. So I don't know how to face it.

What is this cookie going to do to me? What if I get lost? What if it's poisonous? Do I really have to taste it or it'd be better just to let it stay?Am I going to shrink and ache? Will it give me some more power, show me a new dimension? Where will it take me?

Wish I had an answer. I don't.
Wish I didn't lick this cookie. Didn't taste this feeling.
But I can't help it. I have a hell of a sweet tooth for life.

Friday's Feast

2005-11-04T11:47:00.000+01:00

I told you, I love word games, memes, tests and all that...

I found this was really nice.. much more so because it's about cooking and food, which I'm crazy about!

Appetizer What was the last game you purchased?
Scrabble. Travel version. It was a present, actually, but I chose it myself.

Soup Name something in which you don't believe.
I don't believe in either never and forever.

Salad If you could choose a television personality to be your boss, who would you pick?
Dr. Carter from E.R. No doubt. But I must admit I'd find it hard to work..

Main Course What was a lesson you had to learn the hard way?
Hey, is there a different way to learn any lesson? If so.. SHOW ME!!

Dessert Describe your idea of the perfect relaxation room.
Natural colors, parquet and carpets. A huge sofa and a coffee table. A few paintings (or country cross stitched works or quilts). No TV but a plasma screen for my favourite movies and a home-theater and cd player with well hidden speakers. No metal or glass or any shining material. Just wood and fabric and some china stuff at disposal for my afternoon tea. Smooth but good lighting. Mr. Charms on the sofa with nothing else than his glasses. Ok, scratch that. No glasses.

News of the world

2005-11-03T15:06:00.000+01:00

You know those days when you're so tired it should be friday night already? That's today.

Didn't sleep well at all, my neck was stiff and aching and I felt as I had 450 coffees just before going to bed. I never ever have coffee (it messes badly with my heart) so I was sure it had nothing to do with that. Who knows, maybe too many Desperate Housewives before going to bed..

Today I woke up feeling a real crap. A raven's nest instead of my naturally soft and silky and curly hair and a pale limp dough ball instead of my usually finely chiselled face... Cellulite-spotted buttocks where cellulite-spotted buttocks used to be... in a word, an awful awakening.

With a start like that, what could I expect? I would have settled for a plain boring day. For my boss yelling at me. For my parents throwing me out of their home when I go visit. For my friends calling me names and my cats scratching me to death.

Guess what I got instead? Non-requested news about Mr.Charms. Someone saw him at a Halloween party. He was kinda weird - so they said - and when asked how he felt answered "Fine. And me and Phi are not seeing each other anymore".

Rambling thoughts:
1) People who asked didn't know it, but didn't ask for news about me either, so why providing the information??
2) Why on earth an answer like that when talking to an almost stranger?? I mean, how about that nice old habit of talking about the weather instead?
3) A Halloween party. In Italy. In the hottest november we've ever seen while people is still going to the beach?? C'mon guy, you really need some help.. (check this out for a smarter thought about Halloween)

Do you think that was enough? Yeah, right. That was just a single bite of the whole cake.
Other news followed. Different source, almost same effect on my nerves.

Looks like he's deserting his nicest friends and going out with - how can I say this without sounding a grumpy bitch?- a bunch of childish male chauvinist idiots.

I know I shouldn't care about his life, but we've known for 15 years now, I've been his best friend before being his lover, so this is definitely too hard to ignore.

Nevertheless, I'd like people to shut up at times.

Nevertheless, I'm afraid one of the girls in the pool, at random, will pay for all this, tonite. I'm growing fond of that choking stuff...

sexual healing

2005-11-02T18:02:00.000+01:00

If I were to run for the headache of the year,I'd win no doubt. A strong pain in the right side of my head is pulsing from 4 hours or so and it feels as the hand of an agry god is trying to pull out my right eye from my skull with a spoon... I'd rather lay it down on a railtrack and wait for next Intercity to come instead of being here, pretending to work. I can't focus on anything!

This would be a perfect time for a chamomile-sofa-silent kind of afternoon, you see.
Or for a slow body massage-slow talking- slow love making kind of afternoon. Yep, this one would be the best..

I must be one of the few women in the world who actually doesn't mind making love with a headache or other physical diseases... I mean, making love having a headache. I know that many of us often make love with or to a "headache" or a real pain in the ass.. ;-P

In the past months with Mr.Charms I discovered I was never too aching to make love. I might have been too worried, or too blue, but never too aching. Physical pains such as headache, bellyache, strains, bruises or so were not enough to restrain me from love, much to his delight.. just as, much to my delight he was never too worried or anxious or troubled to make love to me.

Looking back I have to admit that I fell in love with that powerful body of his before falling in love with him.
It has nothing to do with being handsome or having spectacular muscles (which in fact he has..). He's not even my kind. I like tall men and he's just a few cm taller than me, just to say one. I've always loved him as one of my best friends, so it was not about the "having sex with a stranger" thrill.
It's something more subtle, like an ocean stream that led me offshore and made me fall head over heels. At first it was his hands moving when he talked. Then the scent of his neck. Then the skin spot I could see where the chest starts and the shirt ends. It was like that scene in Annie Hall when they talk about something but the subtitles show their inner dialogue..
Our bodies exchanged hungry looks while we talked about politics or movies or whatever.

Day by day, his body taught me to let go of my stiffness and fear.
In the night his chest talked a whispering language to my back while we slept in each other's arms and his whole physical being had me under his spell faster than the eye could flick. I would have done anything in and out of the bed, I could have played any game. Because I felt so at ease, so carefree, so clean and clear.. I was his angel. His mischievous, sexy babe. His heaven. And he was mine. My tireless lover. My master. My slave. His skin was my silky sheet and his arms were my blanket. His lap was my pillow.

We were a whole world.

That was not about love. It was more than that. It was going to the roots of being woman and man. To the essence of human nature.

The funny thing is that despite all the cruel words he said, despite the suffering and the pain, I'm not angry at his hands, or his sex or his tongue. The power of this desire really sweeps me off my feet.
Don't get me wrong, I longed for P so much I can't tell. The men that followed struck me, too, and turned me on. I'd be a total fool to deny it. And a very sad girl...
But they never really reached the core. I thought that was the best, that excitement, that heat... the truth is I didn't know I had a deeper core to be reached. I didn't pretend. I really was content. Just because I didn't know I could be more than content and satisfied.
I didn't know I could be perfect.

monday madness

2005-10-31T09:39:00.000+01:00

Here I am with monday madness again.
I simply love lists, games and memes, I think I'll go for more...

1. Name 1 comedy movie you've seen.

Not talking about my face in the mirror, I suppose...

I'm a bulimic movie eater, there are too many movies I'd like to name, so I'll go for this one, which has no competitors..

2. Name 2 black and white films you remember seeing.

I've got this thing for very old German black and white movies. I love the expressionism and the vibrant energy in the scenes, the dramatic music (most of them are silent movies where only music talks) and most of all the real love for cinema, every single framing oozes with interest and experimentation. It must have been such a thrill for directors such as Lang or Murnau to be involved in the newly born art..

3. Name 3 dramas you thought were worth watching.

I thought they were worth and I still do. Different from each other, they all cut me in the deep. The Piano is one of my favourite movies ever.
As for Woody Allen I like his movies so much that I can even forgive him tasteless things like Melinda&Melinda..

4. Name 4 television shows you watch on a regular (or semi-regular) basis.

These are almost the only things I watch on tv:
1)E.R (I hardly survived Dr. Benton leaving the show.. there are things a woman simply shouldn't go through...)
2)Desperate Housewives
3)Sex&the city (for the zillionth time)
4)Six Feet Under

5. Name 5 things that, in your opinion, are advertised on television too frequently.

"Everything" is not a valid answer, is it? ok but... did you ever take a look at italian tv or italian advertisments? It's almost all about sex and empty-headed women so.. mmm.. let's say
1) telephone companies
2) phone numbers you can call to buy cell ringtones and games (don't know if they exist out of Italy, I hope not for the world's sake)
3) frozen food (exception made for Sofficini...I'm addicted to them and totally in love with the little chamaleon-reptile-whatever in the commercial..)
4) silly and expensive children toys
5) diet pills/anti-cellulite pills/livehappyandcareless pills..

someone saved my life tonight

2005-10-31T00:02:00.000+01:00

Yesterday Minnie stayed for the night.

I like having her home, when we're both happy it's like having a pajama party, we laugh until we snort, have hot chocolate and talk about men, sex and life till we fall asleep.
When one of us is blue or angry, spending the night together is our way to run for cover. To cling to a life belt made of chamomile and fluffy comforters.

This time was of the second kind. She had a fight with her kinda boyfriend, the Horse Whisperer I'll call him, and she called me asking for company, trying not to think about what a rough moron he's been and about his clumsy manners that really piss her off.
We went out for dinner and talked about it a lot. She talked. I listened. There wasn't much to say, it looked she'd made up her mind. Looked she finally saw that he's not enough for her. Not sensitive enough, not funny enough, not even polite enough. So I think she'll call it quits.

Isn't it a good sensation, I thought? I mean, being in control. Having the last word, somehow.
Leaving someone hurts us - oh, it does - even if less than being left. It doesn't change the fact that we end up being alone (which is not so fun), but it makes us feel stronger at first. Or so I thought because it made ME feel stronger, in the past. Now I understand that, in my case, it was a misleading sense of power and strenght. Don't get me wrong, it's good to make the right decision, to be brave and choose and all that stuff. You know, better alone that in ill company.
But for me, for my obsession of being in control, my sheer terror of letting someone else taking the helm, well... it wasn't healthy at all. Learning to let myself go has been the most precious lesson I learnt from loving Mr.Charms.

He made me feel home, safe and sound in his arms' nest and I'm very grateful because now I know what I'm looking for in a man. Thanks to his reassuring attitude I learned to be a sweeter person, a cosy home for a man to come back. I finally got the point that I had no real need to be in control, because real life cannot be controlled or stopped. In good and bad. See what a gift our story gave me? As the saying goes, it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good.

Oh, this doesn't mean that in the end he's not been a real asshole who'd deserve to be eaten by an army of red ants.. Gosh, it would be great, uh? I'll post a picture of that when it happens.. LOL..

saturday night's alright for fighting

2005-10-30T01:12:00.000+02:00

Tonite Sam invited me to dinner at one of her friends'. She's nicely introducing me to some friends of her. I like meeting new people, like the way people talk when meeting for the first time. I enjoy small groups when everyone can express his/her feelings and people really look in each other's eyes.

This evening I expected to meet one of her friends, a smart girl she said. It showed up to be a girl I already met and talked to some months ago, and which I actually liked. I met her in June or so, in a lovely village in an island near here. She was with some friends of Mr.Charms' friends and he actually didn't know her too.
So our meeting tonite was quite funny, you know all that stuff about who could have imagined and what a small world this is and blah blah.

All fun and pleasant till this.

- This story's not over yet. He needs you more than you need him. This doesn't mean he's not having some kind of affair with another girl, now. I mean, he surely is seeing someone else. Yeah, maybe a 3B (big-boobs-blonde). But that's not the point. The point is: this story is not over yet.
- Well, I hope you're wrong. Anyway I don't think so..
- I'm not telling you that he'll come back with flowers and a wedding ring. I think he'll come back because he's sexually bewitched by you as you are by him. And this makes the story unfinished.
- Lord, you really don't like me..otherwise I can't see why you're wishing me such a crappy future... I don't want to deal AGAIN with undecided men who beg at my door once in a while, mess with my heart but don't give a shit about me in the end.. I want to be happy and content, I don't care if it's not with him, I just want to take care of myself now and to do so, have to cancel his face and his presence from my mind. So I CANNOT THINK ABOUT HIM COMING BACK IN A FEW MONTHS, after who knows what.
- You MUST think about yourself and take care of your life, do what you please, go out, meet your friends...just wanted to tell you that he'll come back. Some day. Cause it's not over. It can't be.

Talk about the worst eve to a boring Sunday. Talk about feeling like breaking a bottle of beer on her skull. Couldn't she just shut up and keep all that "I can read omens" stuff for someone else? Why did she need so badly to psychoanalize me/him/the rest of the world?
Why did she feel the urge to be so blunt?
And why am I so scared she could be true?

...is it so manifest???

2005-10-28T11:48:00.000+02:00

This is my result in "what kind of food are you?" test... My goodness!!

You Are Italian Food

Comforting yet overwhelming.
People love you, but sometimes you're just too much.

What Kind of Food Are You?

Friends will be friends

2005-10-26T09:51:00.000+02:00

As cute as she can be. That's Minnie. She's young and lively, sensitive, understanding and reliable. She works in a car rental, looks forward to getting a degree in Anthropology (in less than 1 year, we hope) and has quite a definite idea of what she wants to be in the future. Her smile rarely fades and her bright eyes are always sparkling with interest and curiosity about people's life and friends' feelings. I cherish her motherly manners as much as her smart sense of humour. I cannot fully handle with the stiff attitude she sometimes has and the pride that keeps her away from people when she's angry. But time spent with her is always filled with laughter and coziness, girlish talks and true confessions. She's my little sister, my younger side, a shining star.

I met SikBros some three years ago, attending a briefing to start a new job. He sat in the front row just like me, and seemed to already know all we were trying to learn. He was so silent and serious I felt bashful. A few days after that a mutual friend introduced me to him and we all decided to study together to pass the final test. That's how I discovered he was, simple as this, the perfect friend. We liked each other by instinct at first and since then the bond between us has grown stronger and stronger. I never experienced such a non-sexual deep love for a man - except my brother, and maybe that's why everyone at work thought we were siblings. I left that job 2 years ago and our time together is less than it used to be. This makes me sad at times, but it's ok. We keep in touch with daily mails and meet as often as we can. He makes me laugh till I'm out of breath and I could spend hours listening to him talking, whatever subject he chooses he knows how to make it interesting. And, oh, he can bake the biggest and crunchiest pizza in town!!

Seaweed lives in a town 1-hour-plane away from here. She's in her late thirties and one of the most interesting women I've ever met. She's sophisticated though very concrete, she can range from fixing broken stuff with hammer and nails to a formal dinner at the Japanese Cultural Institute. She has been through so so many rainy days though is as sunny as a June afternoon. I'm amazed by her strenght at work, her being so trustworthy with her family, her sensitiveness when we talk. She's the one I rely on for making my thoughts clearer while sprinkling hard things with irony and humour.
We've seldom met during the last 2 years - plane tickets are not so cheap - and I'm looking forward our new sabbath!! ;-)

These are some of my dearest friends. We're very different from each other, our connection lies in the deep and I couldn't do without none of them!

Just wanted to show you all how beloved they are. Just wanted to say thanks. Especially to SikBros who just invited me to lunch!

silent desperation

2005-10-25T15:48:00.000+02:00

I'm so hurt I can't tell. I'm so hurt I cannot seem to collect enough English words to make a sentence. I'd rather write in Italian but it would be too painful. This is some kind of a shield.

I just came from my counsellor. After our talks I usually feel if not good a bit more hopeful. Or a bit more sensible. Or whatever but this lousy crappy desperate garbage.
It's like my blood ran away, I'm cold as a stone and feel I could faint in any moment.
I'm drowning. I'm re-living all I went through when Mr.Charms left. The same void in the middle of my chest, the same cold, the same fear.
And the same rage and fury I tried hard to deny. Lord, I'd beat him with a baseball bat if I only could reach him.
I'm angry at myself for how much I trusted him and his feelings, for how I've let my feelings show. He talked me into our story, I was reluctant and somehow shy, now I can say I was afraid of letting myself go. But I eventually did.
Now I can say he was unconsciously trying to make a point out of it. He was (and is) emotionally unexperienced, he was... well, kinda practicing love for the first time. And you know how it is, it's like growing up, after a while you feel you can fly with your own wings.
He felt his power over me. He felt empowered by what he had proved to himself. Lord, he felt a man. He felt he could live without me just when I felt I couldn't do without him. I've let him have so much power over me that now he has the strenght to run away forever. I feel stupid and naive for all the pain and suffering I'm trying hard to survive at, while he's going out with friends and making out with some other girl. Ok, maybe not yet, but that's not the real point. I feel lost. All of my rationality is gone, stolen by his cruel words and his sudden runaway. There's no use in crying but I can't help it. I'm numb and a total wreck. I feel sooo old. And I don't know how to forget, turn over a new leaf, face the loneliness and survive. Is there a way to believe in ourselvers, to believe we ARE worth?

monday madness

2005-10-24T12:32:00.000+02:00

Today's a copyandpaste day, so here I am with monday madness

I spent a very relaxing sunday with my ex family-in-law and this morning I felt like staying in bed for one month or so, just wanted to have a hot tea with milk and read a book I bought on Saturday, which actually I don't like but don't want to give up...

Wish to post something else in the afternoon..

1. diamonds or pearls? Pearls, everywhere (earrings, strings, rings, whatever). Yet, a huge solitaire is not so bad.. ;-)

2. paperback or hardcover books? Hardcover for those I read on the couch, in perfect silence, sipping a mug of hot chocolate, with the cat on my lap. Parperback for those I would read at the beach or wish to share with friends.

3. carpet or hardwood floors? Carpets in all rooms but the main room (too many cats sharpening their nails on them...)

4. dogs or cats? cats, of course!

5. fluffy or firm pillow? Fluffy, until I'll be able to do without.

6. fine point or medium point pens? Medium or even bold

7. clocks a little fast or on time? 20 minutes fast for my morning alarm (I hate hate hate waking up) , on time all the others

8. mahjong or spider solitaire (or other)? Mahjong, Free Cell, Tetris.. whatever keeps me from working...

9. wall calendar or desk calendar? Wall calendar, but I actually don't like calendars.. I forget to look, so they're useless...

10. 'Survivor' or 'The Amazing Race?' erm... well.... WHAT THE HECK ARE THEY??

Still sleeping, it seems

2005-10-21T10:50:00.000+02:00

Today I started my morning here at work quickly reading some of my favourite blogs and rambling through the news. I casually met with this blog. I have to admit it was a perfect way to start (life knows so well what we really need) and that's where the quotations come from.

I don't feel like working at all. The new offices will be ok in a few days, we'll soon move there and... well, the new rooms already make us feel we're the stars of a fiction. Yeah, Six Feet Under, the corpse role. Lord, you ought to see it...the "open space project" has been dropped for weird wooden brown cubes. I wonder how we're going to even put desks in those microscopic niches where just an urn would fit!!!
Yeah, I shouldn't be so old fashioned, what's wrong in lighting candles and praying on the floor, surrounded by (tiny) flowers, just to say, instead of sitting at the desk for a change?

Don't want to sound too sarcastic but I've been in an awful mood for the last two days. I argued with one of my co-workers and wanted to fight with all the rest of them. Yesterday evening I lingered on the thought of choking one of the girls in my aquagym class - and folks, it felt soooo good just thinking of it.. - so maybe it's time for me to take a break. Try to have some real fun.

Which always leads to the same inner question: how on earth am I supposed to have fun or feel good without Mr.Charms????

"If you only have a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail."
~Abraham Maslow (1908-1970), American psychologist

I'm afraid this is the answer. I mean, I know perfectly well that I will have fun and feel good and lighthearted and so on and I hope it won't take too long. It's just that I can't feel it'll happen. It's just that being rejected makes me feel I'm the most unworthy trash in the universe, no matter what.
Things happen, if Mr.Charms doesn't love me anymore it doesn't mean that nobody will. He is not the problem. He is just the smaller part of it. It can sound obvious to many but no to me.
Don't get me wrong anyway. I deeply feel for him and I miss him so so badly it hurts at every breath. Clearly enough he does not and I have to face it. 'Cause this is my hammer and nail, the eternal dilemma: I could even face losing someone (sooner or later) but it seems I can't face being abandoned.

Not without some (lots) of the hard work mentioned below...

"Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens." ~Carl Jung, (1875-1961),Swiss psychiatrist, psychoanalyst

men at work

2005-10-19T16:34:00.000+02:00

First comments have arrived. Don't know if it's because of my English and how I write or because of the things I write but some of you just labelled me as strange.. thank God nobody said weirdo, but who knows? maybe in a few days... :-)
I feel flattered and sad at the same time in seeing myself reflected in people’s words, it’s a completely new sensation.. have to taste it a little bit more before knowing what to say… except that writing is sooo soothing, obviously. And that today I’ll take a break from love pangs and talk about something else.

It’s a rainy and boring afternoon here at work while I write my daily post. As cazface says, I know the internet here should be just for work but…
Our offices are being renovated and transformed and at the moment they look like a seething ant heap, with masons and workers talking aloud and swearing just one step away from my desk. The final result should be kind of an open space (instead of single rooms) with artificial lights and air conditioning (instead of windows..) where a dozen people will fight, mutter nasty words, hate each other as hell and try to poison each other coffee.. Ok, ok, that’s too much… maybe they won’t mutter..
At the moment I don’t know if I’ll keep my current position (I’m the only one in a single room), but I do hope so.
It’s not some kind of “I’m afraid of changes” thing. Not at all. It’s just that I love my little window and that tiny piece of sky I can see.
It’s not that I don’t want to adjust myself to new things. No no no. But you see.. no natural light, no natural air (while we could have kept it all), 8 hours a day, eating your lunch at the desk.. They could just put a wheel on the wall and call me a hamster.
It’s not that I can’t stand the people I work with.. it’s just they’re so so so annoying that even their screens turn black not to reflect their faces. Isn’t this a sign? What? Screensaver? Mmm...that’s just ONE possibility!
I actually get on quite well with a threesome, they’re humorous and smart and they’re good in what they do. But I have no words for the rest of them . They’re all women and the smartest thing I heard from them was something about those awful china objects meant to be given as souvenirs at weddings (if you’re not Italian you may not understand this, so thank your God). Of course they were “delighted” and “thrilled” and all that stuff for checking a catalogue and helping one of them in choosing the best (???) monster… souvenir, I mean.
So, can you really blame me for having them all slaughtered with a stapler? I mean, for wishing to keep my room…

catwalk

2005-10-18T12:53:00.000+02:00

Today's the day. My youngest cat just learned to use the cat flap. Like Alice she goes through the mirror, leaving the kitchen and landing on the terrace-wonderland. She's 4-months-old and has lived in my flat for three weeks now, sharing space attention and food with my older cats. The male has accepted her but the female simply left the house and at the moment she lives in the terrace, sleeping in a cardboard box like a homeless and refusing food if I don’t stay next to her. She's always been a bit weird, I took her home from the city cat orphanage in late 2003, struck by her ginger fur and her quiet manners. She was already 6 years old or so, and was said to be "quite peculiar".. actually she immediately showed a funny personality that made us all call her Gollum.. she still comes in search for cuddles AND looks behind her back in fear for a serial killer or something.
The male is a siamese-like 1 and a half years old hurricane. He can open doors (and working on unlocking), has a smart look in his clear blue eyes and the awful habit to steal everything eatable in the house, especially cakes or bread. In fact I'm afraid he's looking forward to have diabetes or become a Sumo fighter.
All of my cats came in different ways and different moments, but they have one thing in common: they always came when I needed comfort and felt like taking care of someone when there was no one willing to be taken care of.
The only exception was my first cat. He was a pink-blonde male named after the white cat in Disney’s Italian version of Alice in wonderland and I adopted him while I was still living with P. He was huge yet not fat, and went totally crazy for chestnuts and pizza. We used to take a short nap together on the couch, laying on one side, his furry legs tied around my neck like a baby, until P. called me for coffee and cookies. He was so much more than a cat, he kind of answered when we called, loved the people I love and flirted with the people I would have liked to flirt with. He sat on my lap like a kid when I had tea with friends, made everyone laugh with his human-like manners and left me on an awfully sunny day, poisoned by a neighbour.
When I found out I cried sitting on the floor. Everyone who’s lost a pet friend knows how it feels. After him I had some other 5 cats or so, and I enjoyed having them all, but no one has ever reached my heart the way he did. No one has ever shown the need for my attention the way he did, no one has ever really been MINE.
If there’s a lesson in life (and I’m sure there is) maybe this is part of it.
Feeling that someone needs us and our affection seems to make the difference. Knowing to be needed make us feel we’re worth.
This is the first step. But this shouldn’t be the measure to give OUR love in return.
Accepting the others’ independence, learning to love without engulfing the other or being absorbed by him. Learning that real life is a non-stop improvement only if we want it to be, and something better is always waiting for us. IF we don’t stop walking. Maybe what we need it’s just one more step away.
Besides, while the first pet is unforgettable, absolutely unique and irreplaceable, with men is totally different…

one step forward, two steps back

2005-10-17T16:43:00.000+02:00

Think I sunbathed for the last time this year. Yesterday was a shiny hot Sunday and I went to the beach with my hilarious sweet ex almost-husband P. He went swimming and I laid and rested in the sun. Read a few pages of an awful book he had and tried to enjoy in spite of the grip in my stomach. That's how it felt, for all the day and night until lunchtime today. I never stopped thinking about the man who said to love me but left in the still of the night three weeks ago. I'll call him Mr.Charms, just to say a name.
Anyway, back to my sunny Sunday with "ex n.1". I hoped his company could lighten that stony grip I had inside, he's that kind of man who makes you laugh till you cry and let go of all your dammings. We were a couple and lived together for almost a decade and now we deeply love each other in a brother&sister way. You know all that stuff about the roads that part in growing up? yeah, that's us. I'm lucky to have him as a friend and I know he feels the same.
He's sincere and real, tender and funny.
So why am I so restless after a day like that instead of being happy for not having spent in on the couch watching tv, drowning in my own self-pity (I could make a business teaching people about self-pity..)?
I think it's 'cause I'm tired, weary and sick of collecting wonderful EX somethings..! Which basically means that I'm tired of being an EX myself. I want to be something for someone in the present, not only in someone's past. I want to be now and not then. I want to be a lover, flourishing in someone's hands, sharing and sprinkling joy as a fountain, not storing, accumulating feelings and waiting for something to happen. I'm growing up (good) but also getting old (not so good), and I'm afraid that when that Prince Fckuing comes I'll be too deaf and blind or scared to even notice. Ok, ok, maybe I won't be deaf or blind..only in my menopause!

let the sunshine in

2005-10-15T10:33:00.000+02:00

Today I'm off work and woke up late, staying in bed as long as I could until the phone rang and a friend entered my silence. Getting up late is a very elementary way to make time go by almost without noticing, and it's MY way to run for cover. As long as you stay tucked in bed, in this artificial uterus, life cannot harm you. Or so you hope. Anyway, as pain is starting to soothe - because it is, thank God - I'm feeling much more comfortable staying home with the kittens and taking care of everyday stuff. Only a week ago the silence and the emptiness of the rooms here were unbearable, as I sat on the sofa cold as a stone trying hard not to call him and pleeeeeeeeeeeeease-come-back-weep over the phone.
Gee, how useless and vegetable we sometimes allow ourselves to be..
That's why today's recovery plan includes:
1) baking 24 devil's food cupcakes
2) starting a knitting project that's going to make me look like a real sexbomb
3) having friends home for a pizza&movie night
As for tomorrow, do you think some Scarlet O'Hara line would do?

lust but not least

2005-10-14T17:42:00.000+02:00

posting for the first time and feeling a bit nervous. that's what it is.

after breaking up with their lovers some people get a haircut, start a trip all over Asia, stuff themselves with cakes and cookies and ice cream (ok, not so bad for a few days...), force friends to go out and "start again with life"... some write music (Alanis Morrissette to say one, built quite a fortune on being left and bereft)...me, I start blogging.

Not so much of a reason, you think?
Well, if it keeps me away from a chain saw and a slaughter I think it's definitely the best thing I can do at the moment!!

Can't wait to know HOW it went, WHY he left, WHAT we did and all the rest?
Well, don't know if I'm ready for that, think I'll settle for a little chat before diving in the deep...

keep in touch