Apr 26 2015

Cand iti dai seama ca de fapt esti timid

Category: Commonseaqxx @ 21:56

Eu nu par o persoana timida. Cei care ma cunosc este posibil sa spuna ca vorbesc prea mult, ca sunt aroganta sau sarita de pe fix. Cel putin asta se intampla pana acum. Recent am remarcat ca nu imi mai iese treaba asta. Pentru ca nu mai sunt la fel de entuziasmata sa cunosc oameni noi, sa ii impresionez sau sa ma fac remarcata. Mai mult, daca grupul meu de cunostinte ar ramane fix cum e acum pana la sfarsitul vietii mele nu m-ar deranja deloc.

Problema e ca inca sunt inca burlaca si vreau nu vreau trebuie sa cunosc oameni, pentru ca teoretic dupa ce se termina anul si trec iar la program normal de lucru si o sa am mai mult timp liber, n-ar strica sa … ies si eu pe piata. Si nah, cum mi-am propus sa cunosc bine omul inainte de a ma arunca intr-o relatie, teoretic in restul de an ce a ramas ar cam trebui sa il intalnesc, ca sa sam timp sa il cunosc. :D In fine, nu trebuie sa incercati sa intelegeti logica mea de femeie sucita. :D

Eu am o mica fixatie. Vreau musai ca viitorul prieten/partener/sot sa fie mai mare in varsta decat mine, adica sa aiba inte 35 si 40 de ani. As putea merge pana in 45, de fapt. Problema e ca barbatii dupa 27 de ani, daca nu se ingrijesc, se ofilesc intr-un an precum femeile in 5. Deci daca esti o femeie care se si ingrijeste, e clar ca ai sa ai pretentii sa arate macar o idee mai frumos decat dracul. Si aici e problema. Ca eu imi dau silinta sa fiu o astfel de femeie. Mi s-a spus ca la varsta mea arat ca la 25(asta ar explica succesul la pustani :D) ceea ce nu e rau deloc pentru egoul meu. Dar oricum ar fi, fixatia ramane, tot peste 35 vreau sa aiba viitorul barbat din viata mea.

In consecinta, cand ma intersectez cu cate unul care corespune criteriului de varsta, mi se agita neuronii precum se aprind beculetele in pomul de Craciun. Normal ca asta se intampla rar. Prima oara s-a intamplat anul asta in februarie. A fost foarte fain contextul si chiar ma gandeam ca daca ar fi da fie el, am avea o poveste super faina de spus la bere despre cum ne-am re-intalnit. Pentru ca era o cunostinta mai veche, pe care nu o mai vazusem din 2010 cred. In fine, s-a dovedit a nu fi el, pacat, dar asta este.

A doua oara pe anul asta mi s-a intamplat vineri seara cand veneam spre casa din Frankfurt. Mi s-a intersectat privirea cu doi ochi albastri si timpul s-a dilatat ca in filme, pentru ca ne uitam unul la altul cu o curiozitate aproape bolnava. Era un barbat inalt, brunet cu ochi albastri azurii, sprancene frumos arcuite, nas ferm putin cam marisor, dar subtire si acvilin, care se potrivea perfect cu forma fetei, cu obraji proeminenti si bine definiti. I-am pierdut privirea si apoi am urcat in avion. De cand tot umblu prin aeroporturi, nu mi-a starnit nimeni interesul in asemenea fel. Totusi trebuia sa urc in avion, asa ca nu m-am gandit prea mult la intamplarea in cauza.

Avionul a intarziat putin si era sa il pierd pe cel spre München daca nu luau ceva masuri cei de la Lufthansa. Cred ca e prima oara cand mi-am dorit sa fi pierdut avionul si sa raman in München. Pentru ca eram 5 oameni in acceasi situatie. Unul din ei era el. Dap, mergea spre Sibiu. Fugind impreuna spre poarta de decolare spre Sibiu, am avut ocazia sa il observ mai bine si sa conversam putin. Avea un tatuaj pe mana stanga deasupra degetului mare, un model tribal si o voce putin adanca, serioasa. Era inalt dar nu super-fit, era exact cum imi place mie – echilibrat. Si o sa radeti, dar nu imi plac barbatii cu masuri mici la pantofi. Daca nu au minim 42 mi se pare ca arata ciudat. Tipul asta la inaltimea lui, cred ca purta 45. Am mai interactionat cu barbati mai in varsta decat mine, dar majoritatea au o alura de oameni linistiti, obositi, daramati, aflati sub papucul cuiva – mamei sau nevestii. Barbatul asta, avea si el cearcanele specifice omului muncitor, ar avea o privire putin salbatica, naravasa.Era inca o flacara acolo.

Toate astea le-am observat pe furis, ma chinuiam sa il analizez, fara sa para ca ma holbez si sa nu ma balbai in acelasi timp. Pentru ca aparent barbatii mai in varsta decat mine ma intimideaza. Mi s-a parut mie ceva in Praga, dar m-am gandit ca poate nu eram in apele mele sau ceva. Ei bine, aparent nu. Nu as fi crezut in viata mea, ca voi simti ca mi se rosesc obrajii si mi se opresc cuvintele in gat in fata unui barbat, dar s-a intamplat. Cat am zburat pana Sibiu, mi-am adunat curajul sa vorbesc cu el, sa il intreb daca vrea sa facem schimb de numere de telefon. Asta cand ajungeam in Sibiu si asteptam sa ne luam bagajele. Si n-am apucat sa o fac, pentru ca el a ales o coada inceata la verificari de pasapoarte, iar apoi i-a venit bagajul foarte repede asa ca l-a luat si a plecat.

Deci cred ca am sa mor singura, daca urmatorul care imi atrage atentia nu face el primul pas, ca pe baza mea…

Si apropo, daca din greseala tu, tipul cu ochii azurii te ratacesti pe aici si esti burlac si interesat sa cunosti o tipa de 32 de ani care munceste prea mult si calatoreste lunar minim o saptamana in interes de serviciu, trimite un mail.

Eu sunt tipa cu tatuajul asta. Stiu sigur ca il recunosti pentru ca mi-am ridicat intentionat manecile camasii ca sa vezi ca avem minim o chestie in comun. :D tatoo


Apr 22 2015

Am realizat ceva

Category: Commonseaqxx @ 22:30

La un moment dat am mentionat pe aici ca nu am avut o familie reusita. Probabil am dat multe detalii, dar cine mai sta sa caute in 8 ani de arhiva? In seara asta vreau sa scriu putin despre tatal meu. Tatal meu a fost un barbat frumos. E pasionat de electronica si ii place sa doarma pana tarziu. Ii place sa faca misto de mama si cam de orice si este foarte prietenos. Mama mereu l-a acuzat ca este atat de prietenos si de serviabil, incat nu poate zice nu si oamenii se folosesc de el. Il acuza ca pune strainii mai presus de familia lui.

Sunt multi ani de cand nu am mai stat destul de mult timp cu parintii mei incat sa pot spune, daca ce zicea mama e adevarat sau nu. Tot ce imi amintesc e ca tata era cel care ma batea cand nu imi faceam temele corect, ma batea fara scandal, imi croia scurt o palma sau doua, cat sa pricep mesajul. Mama se isteriza si ma tragea de par. Deci, clar il preferam pe tata. Imi mai amintesc ca a fost mereu dezamagit de mine ca nu am fost baiat, pentru ca in mintea lui femeile sunt pe lumea asta doar ca sa le prosteasca barbatii. Deci da, tatal meu pare a fi un sexist de mare seama.

Ce imi mai amintesc este ca era mai tot timpul plecat. La inceput venea acasa la fiecare sfarsit de saptamana si ma bucuram cand venea. Apoi localitatile in care pleca in deplasari erau din ce in ce mai departe si il vedeam o data pe luna sau o data la doua luni. Cand venea acasa mama se astepta ca el sa isi indeplineasca rolul de barbat al familiei si sa rezolve problemele casei pe care de obicei le rezolva un barbat si se lasa cu scandal, ca el era obosit de munca si voia sa se odihneasca acasa. Cu toate astea curgeau povestile de deplasare, bautele cu “baietii” si alte asemenea. (“Baietii” aveau minin 40 de ani – ca sa fie clar contextul) Deci laudandu-se cum se distreaza el, o facea pe mama sa nu dea doi bani pe oboseala lui.

Stiu ca a zacut o boala cand n-a mai putut pleca nicaori, nu de alta dar s-a pensionat. A avut momente cand venea acasa de nevoie, ca nu mai avea mancare si nu mai luase salariul cu lunile si imprumuta bani ca sa poata pleca inapoi la “lucru”. Si maica-mea il afurisea si se enerva, da n-avea ce-i face. Parca i-a reprosat la un moment dat, intr-o cearta ca ii place mai mult la naiba in praznic decat acasa. Si nah, prin deplasari mai avea si “fete” cum le spunea el.

Scriu toate astea pentru ca multa vreme am crezut ca seman cu mama, ca o sa fiu nesigura pe mine, cu temperament vulcanic, nemultumita si nefericita tot timpul ca ea. Dar de ceva vreme incep sa ma cunosc si sa ma accept. Cred ca felul meu de a fi seamana mai mult cu tata. Am banuit asta de ceva vreme, dar mi-era oarecum rusine sa recunosc asta fata de mine insumi, pentru il desconsideram ca om pe dansul si mi-era oarecum rusine ca seman cu el. Dar, ma simt mai bine intr-o camera de hotel decat in casa mea, poate si pentru ca eu n-am o casa sau un loc pe care sa-l numesc “acasa”. Cel mai bine dorm in hoteluri. Cel mai bine ma simt cand sunt detasata de lucruri si persoane familiare. Aproape ma sperie cat de relaxata pot fi cand sunt departe de tot, pentru ca nu inteleg de unde vine sentimentul asta. Mutandu-ma ai mei peste tot prin tara, neapucand sa prind radacini nicaori am incercat cu disperare sa imi fac radacini in Iasi, am vrut pentru prima oara in viata mea, acum ca detineam controlul cat de cat asupra ei, sa am parte de stabilitate. Eu am crezut ca asta ma va face fericita, chiar am crezut ca stabilitatea imi lipsea pentru a fi fericita. De asta si relatiile mele au fost de lunga durata, desi chinuite si clar cu oameni nepotriviti.

Dar nu cred ca m-am simtit niciodata mai relaxata si mai libera decat acum. Seman cu tata, m-am fortat atatia ani sa reprim tot ce aveam in comun cu el, dar adevarul e ca imi place sa pot pune pauza la responsabilitati. Imi place sa fug de ele din cand in cand. Imi place sa fiu egoista. Si acum ca am acceptat ca sunt ca tata, promit o chestie. Daca tot am halul asta de caracter, o sa incerc sa nu imi fac o familie care sa sufere de pe urma lui. Sper sa reusesc sa ma tin de chestia asta.

Cam atat. Stay safe, stay happy.


Apr 19 2015

Category: Commonseaqxx @ 17:32


It is that time of the week when the clouds are making me melancholic and I’m thinking about you. I do not know what you look like, where you live and what are you thinking right now. But what I know for sure is that you are now creating memories that you will share with me when we meet. I’m not quite doing that, I’m just working a lot and healing a lot of wounds.

I can’t imagine when we first meet, but I really hope it will be next year, because I’m not done fixing myself yet and I don’t want to take the risk of not being able to relate with you. I know that we will be best friends first, that we will click in a way neither of us has clicked with anyone before. I like to think that you will be smart and kind with everybody else and you won’t just be kind with me because I’ll hold that special place in your heart. I would really, really like you to be kind by nature, not because I’ll be your catalyst. I like to think that you will like sports, science and cars and we will talk about these subjects for hours.

I know for sure we will make the best team for any activity we will do together, whether is sports, building a home or growing up our kids together. Because I will want to have kids with you. Because when I’ll find you, I’ll probably love you so much that one of you in this world won’t be enough.

I am imagining you liking mostly the same music that I do and we will be dancing at least one evening per week before going to sleep. I’m thinking about dancing Insatiable with you or Imbranato or Can’t Help Falling in Love or You’re just too good to be true or Un angelo non e. Uuh, so many options …

I dream of meeting you after I find out who I am without you and I can barely wait to find out whom I’ll be with you. Until then I will think about you from time to time and write my thoughts here. And you will read them one day and know that I knew I loved you before I met you.

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Apr 18 2015

We all need a savior

Category: Commonseaqxx @ 22:22

1087799-dark_phoenix___revived_by_inu123Did you ever wonder why we love superheroes movies so much? It is because life is hard and we all need saving. We dream of somebody coming into our live or something happening that will leave us happy and without a care. That’s why we love superheroes, but if they would indeed exist probably we would not appreciate them. We would just envy them and complain about everything we think they do wrong and bragging about what we would do if we had their powers.

I started thinking about this while running today. I probably said here before, but I love running long distances because I like pushing my limits. I love running because when I run I leave the world behind. With music in my years, I just run and think about a lot of the things that have happened and are still happening in my life, and somehow I find solutions and answers when I run. Leaving the world behind just changes my perspective. I can detach, I can become and observer and draw conclusions and make judgements with a cold heart.

We all need a savior. It is nice to have someone there who can protect you from anything. The saviors need saving too. If you are X-Men fans, you remember Jean Gray, and you remember The Phoenix which is kinda, the strongest mutant in the Marvel Universe. Well, in the comics, she needs saving too. In the movie, they kinda screw everything up. But that’s not the idea. The idea is that no matter how strong a savior is, he needs saving too. Imagine a savior as tree that keeps growing, seems big and strong, but on the inside it starts to rot. The bigger it gets, the stronger it seems, but its insides are slowly breaking down.

Thus saviors need to be saved from themselves.

I have now idea what I am and I’m terrified to find out.


Apr 16 2015

Good days, bad days

Category: Commonseaqxx @ 12:03

I have good days for no reason. And for no reason I have bad days when everything that keeps me going is that in the evening I’ll just crash into my bed, fall asleep and the next morning I’ll wake up feeling that the new day is a good one. But sometimes after a bad day, some other bad days come and I keep struggling to find a way to cope that works every time. My psychologist says I’m not depressed, but she might be wrong. Maybe it’s my fault – I haven’t been completely honest with her and she knows me too little to know I have been keeping things from her.

I don’t think it’s normal to dream to much, I don’t think it’s normal to cry for no reason or be happy for no reason. But lately a good friend said to me that this happens to everyone once in a while. So maybe it is normal to have good days or good days for no reason.

Yesterday was a bad day. I woke up and the sky was dark and gray. I think the weather influences me more than I would like. The day just went by with me being kind of sad. Until around 16:00 the sun came out. I felt like smiling for no reason. In the evening I had a meeting with my psychologist. I stood in the lobby for about an hour, because inside there was somebody crying. I had an appointment, but that person needed my psychologist more than I did. With the sun coming up and everything I was quite in a good mood, so I just spend my time improving my German.

My psychologist was glad to see me and we talked about the relationship I have with my parents. I vented about everything and in the end she said I should try for a moment to forget that they are my parents and treat them like I treat others. Meaning, have no expectations, accepting that their decisions are theirs alone and they will have to live with the consequences. Acceptance is the key. If I could accept all the crap that happened to me, if I can accept that I have little control over my life, I should be able to accept that they are in the same situation. Like Will Smith says: “People that say they can or they say they can’t, they are usually right”. They are the kind of people that say “I can’t” a lot. And they are absolutely right.

Sometimes I wonder how the hell I ended up being so different. And then I think of all the times I locked myself in my mind because reality disappointed me. In my mind I had the freedom to shape my own world. When I had the strength I started doing this with the world outside my mind. But changing the world starts with changing yourself. And is not so hard, you know? You just make a decision, make sure is the right one for you and stick to it no matter what. Then you keep repeating the process until you become who you want to be.

My psychologist said that I am strong for being able to do this. I do not feel strong, I just do what I have to do. This is my way of living. The only one I know.

I still have good days and bad days, but I’m starting to identify the triggers and compensate.

So… yesterday turned out to be at least half good. And I went to sleep feeling content and happy, which kinda made the first half of the day worth it.

Stay safe, stay happy!


Apr 10 2015

I miss me

Category: Commonseaqxx @ 11:15

Sometimes I think I miss him, then realize who I miss is me. I miss me, I miss being in love and the impatience to see him. I miss being hopeful and trusty. I miss waking up happy because he kissed me before leaving for work. I miss waking up happy because I woke up in his arms.

I miss being in love and it terrifies me that I won’t be able to feel like that anymore. Because I started rationalizing too much, I see everything. To be in love, you need a blind spot. I don’t have it anymore. So this is why this is a bad day. I woke up tired because I had a dream about my old life, a dream that included some of my friends and some people I used to know from the city I left behind. I did not dream of him, but I might as well have had, because I left a part of my life because of him and I still miss that life.

I do not blame him, I do not hate him, he is not to blame for being the way he is. The only one I blame is me. I was the blind one. I have a new life here and some friends that I more than love, that make me smile, that keep reminding me that my life is here now and I should be here and now, body and soul. But there is this little bit of sadness and bitterness that creeps through when I dream of my old life and I wake up in the morning and for a moment I do not know where I am.

So I miss the old me today and I yearn to drink my coffee in the old office and with my old team and coming to work the long way, through the park near the lake. Call me weak, call me stupid if you wish, but this is how I feel today.


Apr 06 2015

The tattoo

Category: Commonseaqxx @ 0:46

Number 30 on my list, getting a tattoo was covered. The result looks like this and it is on my left hand.
tatoo
People keep asking what it means. So I’ll put an explanation here. Honestly it used to not mean much. It was just a template of a tattoo that I really want to get at some point in my life. It was stored on my computer for over 4 years and finally the moment came. Maybe it meant something when I saved the image, but when the time came I really never thought about it.

After getting it done I thought about what to say to people, because people cannot live without meaning. First I said it was a particle moving chaotically, but in the end of it journey the shape is displayed and all makes sense. Then I said it was the general atom symbol and that is a basically a geeky tattoo marking me as smart. But today when somebody else asked me once again I came up with a meaning I’ll keep using from now on. So, here it is:

People are made of atoms. Atoms are all the same. Conclusion: we are all the same. Also, all we are and all we do is basically the interaction between these atoms, so you basically have no control over your life. This tattoo has just become the symbol of me accepting this. It is my way o saying: “Fuck it!”

Ta da! So next time somebody asks me about this, I’ll just give him or here, this link. Problem solved.