Fondly yours...

If I were someone else this post would be very dramatic. I would thank those who read, express my sadness at our separation, wish everyone a wonderful Christmas and a magnificent 2011.

If I were another someone else I would report on the two great news from today: the third place won by the Romanian female handball team against Denmark on their own field, and…the drunk Serbian tourist who fell on and killed the dangerous shark from Shark-El-Sheihk, Egypt.

As I am, the post is about today. I woke up early to get to town by 9, saw the doctor after waiting for two hours but at least I finished Grunberg’s “Blue Mondays”. How fitting! In the afternoon I slept, got a Christmas card from Cecilia and Loic, and took my grandmother to town.

Now I am tired. Tomorrow is the winter solstice; the sun will start blessing us more and more with its presence. It symbolizes a time of rebirth, new beginnings. I could use the opportunity to write a letter to Santa, see if he has space for a small gift for me and maybe pass the wishes for the new year to whoever is taking care of that department.

“Dear Santa,

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Fondly yours,

raluca”

One gear below that of the universe

Some chemical make up created during my run today made me think that perhaps we're too fast.

Assuming the universe or the world we know moves at a certain speed, I often catch myself unhappy when I want things to move faster.  I cannot change anything about the way things happen so expecting for my wishes to become true yesterday is bound to create frustration and unhappiness. On the other hand, whenever I slow down and try to feel the pulse of things and take days as they come, I feel better.

The thought made me think more about speed. We travel faster than in the past, we make friends by clicking a button, we don't even cook a whole meal as much as before, and in most jobs these days everyone is always busy. Maybe one day we will get dizzy and fall like flies. Or maybe not...

If it was not my run, maybe the responsible for these thoughts is the almost full moon.

The tram station

Today I wanted to take the tram to town. Not the smartest idea given the cold outside. But...I wanted to and kept to it even after half an hour of delay when my brother offered to give me a ride. Yes, I am stubborn!

While waiting I recalled a Saturday afternoon in March 2000; it was the day after I got the first acceptance for a university abroad, in Missouri. That was the day when I realized that it might actually happen, I might actually go to study abroad. Little I knew that it was going to take 3 more months to have a final answer and decision about where I was going in the end. Those 3 months I spent every day waiting for letters, e-mails, anything to make it clearer somehow what the future will be for me. It felt like the longest wait but waiting was all I could do.

The tram eventually came.

A post about post writing

This has been a useful experience for me. At the beginning it made me pay more attention to every day that was passing. Then it became a constant process in my head; I was writing paragraphs in my mind wherever and whenever I could.

Later I discovered the "stats" function that tells me the number of pageviews, the countries from where people read my posts; this played with my ego. Some posts were read more than others, some days were getting more pageviews than others, and sometimes a lot of people from countries where I don’t know anyone, were reading my posts. Generally I wondered who read my posts? And why?

I read a few posts myself and promised to read them all at some point after finishing. I have a nod in my stomach when I read them; just like everyone else, some posts I find alright, others purely descriptive, and some even boring.

Probably I will suffer from some withdrawal symptoms; in the end, I did write every single day for the past 100 days and now there are 3 more posts to go! 3!

Who needs Shakira when we have Fuego ?!

Today I could not wake up for half of the day; a very lazy day. But then Fuego happened!

It's that time of the year when the traditions that survived from the past kick in. People get ready for Christmas, clean, cook, and start singing carols. On the 24th of December we still get together with my friends and go from house to house singing carols. We don't make money anymore, we get food and drinks instead; we also forgot most of the carols and use the same two since...since we finished high school.

It's also the time for Christmas concerts. Fuego, a Romanian singer put on fire all the ladies above 60 present in the theater today. He sings beautifully, lifts your mood! However he needs a new designer and some new jokes, although had it not been for the outrageously flashy outfits and the bad jokes, I would have not had the fun I did. Maybe it's a different kind of package: good music, bad clothing and sad interludes.

And I still can't find my friend Dexter!

It's snowy and Elvis is coming home for Christmas

When children sometimes cry, they clench their fists. They clench them so strongly as if their whole world is inside and they need to protect it. When they do that, it's useless to open them; it's like invading a stormy place and bringing even more winds. Instead, hold them; they will slowly open and hold your hand.

Children also hide when they are scared. They build tents in their rooms or just hide under the covers. It feels safe inside. When hiding, they don't need anyone uncovering them or telling them to come out and see the wonderful world. Hide with them! They probably have a story to tell, something must have scared them and with someone else listening by their side they eventually build the courage to come out.

For children between 0-98 years old

The fly killer

Last night I went to bed but a buzzing fly kept me awake until very late.

I thought of Goethe who said that "As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live." and tried to connect it to a line from a song by Morcheeba "The day that you stop running/ Is the day that you arrive.". Then I recalled the worse day of 2010 but slowly the buzzing stopped and I fell asleep.

At 7am the dog started barking. I woke up; worse even, the fly woke up and started buzzing around. That was when I decided to go fly hunting, finish with the little bastard.

In the evening I put my plan into action. 5 victims! For those defending fly rights, rest assured it was a fast death in a warm, cosy place, my room. Dirty job finished I went on to something more pleasant: baking cookies. When the first batch did not burn I did a little pirouette on some radio tune, some Michael Jackson song.

And the day ends. Snow outside, silence inside, good night awaiting.