The enemy who is close to us

In the morning I go to the office with the Bucharest underground. It is a terrible experience everytime, especially if I arrive at the station after 8.00am. Loads of people in suits, smart dresses, some of them with ear phones, are waiting for the train. After seeing it is full, they still insist on entering the waggons, so that inside you have a constant temperature of about 35 degrees C, exquisite for catching all sorts of microbes. Above all, this morning time of getting to the office is when I am physically closer to more people than comfortably acceptable, some of them trying to consolidate their "position" of about 1 square inch by pushing others aside, sticking elbows in the others' shoulders and turning the music in their ears to a maximum, so they don't see or hear the hate in people's faces.

And you can be sure that if you're feeling right

A daydream will last long into the night

Tomorrow at breakfast you may pick up your ears

Or you may be daydreaming for a thousand years

(Lovin Spoonful, Daydream)

Yep, I've heard it all before

I am definitely not the telephoning type. Tonight in the French class I was asked to say why (in French!). The truth is, even though on the phone I am often missing all that ellaborate body talk to illustrate the subject at hand, and the control of the discussion is eluding me, phoning helps me become a better listener. There are things that are easier to say on the phone, than face to face. Even today at work, in a longer meeting, I noticed that few people sustain your look when you honestly look into their eyes when speaking. Well, think that you have something really personal to say, and you don't want (or simply cannot) say it in person. What's the best option? Telephoning, of course. On the phone I've said (and heard) lots of things that would probably have taken much more guts to say face to face. The im-persona of the other person makes you let your thoughts stream free, as if you were alone and the sole gesture of holding the phone up to your ear were only a reflex gesture you'd make every time you were speaking to yourself.

Nevertheless, this makes me no lesser an opponent of telephoning. There is nothing that can replace a face to face conversation, a decent answer to decent questions, the smile on the other's face when you say something pleasant, the touching of hands when agreement is reached.

I've given everything i have to give but it's not enough
And this might sound a little negative but i'm not that tough
(Cinerama, Your Time Starts Now)

Easy like Sunday morning

A question that has troubled me of late is why we make friends or become lovers with different people. Of course, there are relationships that develop because of sheer sympathy and liking for the other person. They are rare though. Most relationships are based on a role typology: I expect him / her to fulfil a certain role in my life. Be it that of saviour, secret lover or mature coach (the ranges vary from person to person) – we all need someone. What we do not expect is that everyone who enters our life has an own deck of cards. They all have luggage, left behind by the culture they come from, by the family life they led, by the amount of loneliness they had to share alone. Of course, this luggage needs to be got rid of – and there are more than one ways to do that. One that is very familiar to most of us is shedding that luggage onto the other and making him / her be a part. There are people in everyone's life who live by this “shedding” - more or less obvious, more or less intense.

The trick is in how much blame you choose to accept for somebody else's life... To understand what the boundaries there are to your responsibility – and to the other's, and act accordingly. All the love and goodwill you have cannot always rescue somebody who has already been hurt so much that all you could do is just sit next to him – and inflict a new wound even by that, by being a signpost for the loss.

And the thing that gets to me
Is you’ll never really see
And the thing that freaks me out
Is I’ll always be in doubt
(Cranberries, Animal Instinct)

Walking the right streets

A friend of mine did a brave thing a few days ago: although he was one inch away from getting a certain job in Bruxelles - very badly I may add, as I saw his enthusiasm from the beginning of the application - he still had the inner strength to put down all the pro and against arguments, and decided against taking up the position. The decision involved a financial component, but it was ultimately the fact that the job would have made him sway from his chosen professional path that convinced him to renounce.

It takes a lot of nerve to do against your heart's bidding - but as long as you feel that is the right decision for you, just walk on. Dreams are often fulfilled just around the corner.

Aint no angel gonna greet me
Its just you and I my friend
My clothes dont fit me no more
I walked a thousand miles
Just to slip the skin
(Bruce Springsteen, Streets of Philadelphia)

Octavian Paler - thoughts

"Când aveam posibilitatea sa-mi îndeplinesc visul, mi-am dat seama ca si pasiunile îmbatrânesc. Nu stiu daca pot pretinde ca am stiut ce vreau de la viata. Nu mi-au lipsit tintele false si entuziasemele naive. Cam toate certitudinile mele, câte au fost, sunt acum ciuruite de îndoieli, ca niste haine roase de molii. Mi-ar fi greu sa numesc una intacta. Nu exista fericire de care sa-ti amintesti fara tristete. Am început sa-mi dau seama ca, din actor pe scena vietii, deveneam un figurant. Tot ce pierdem, pierdem pentru totdeauna. Ceea ce nu traim la timp, nu mai traim niciodata. O viata mediocra poate fi justificata. Mai ales într-o lume mediocra. Dar mediocritatea iluziilor nu are nici o scuza. Nimic nu ne opreste sa visam fara masura. Forma cea mai subtila în care se poate înfatisa un mister este banalitatea. Dumnezeu a creat lumea în asa fel încât sa regretam aproape totdeauna prea târziu. A muri înseamna a te muta într-o stea."

Sweet sweet sweet....

At some point in your life, after being smothered in the childhood thrills of knowing and controlling everything that goes on around you and indulging in the belief everybody tells you everything (count in the part where friends would come and whisper in your ear “Do you want to know a secret”) -- silence falls. You hear little to nothing from others, so you have to create your own secrets and stories, and plans.

And yet, sometimes these plans don't come out quite as you had drafted them. People around you will make sure you will have more obstacles than initially thought of, they will try to keep you from your stories and your dreams. Perhaps it is legitimate that they do so – it is all but legitimate to claim another person's life, when you love her and want what is best for her. How do you manage to merge these two, though? How do you lead a happy family life and follow a great career without hurting the one you're with?

It takes great strength to try and follow both - and sometimes you just wonder if loss is worth what remains behind. But I guess it's all up to what you really wish for in life.

Sugar wishes don't change what is real
Or how it feels in the bad times
For whatever is he is mine all the time
And we'll get by with our troubles
(Macy Gray ft Erykah Badu, Sweet Baby)

While travelling

What do people on the bus do while they are travelling? Well, they listen to music on ipods, watch movies on laptops, look out the window, comment about the length of the road, the technical abilities of the driver, talk on the phone loudly enough to piss everyone off (about family inheritance, children and the technical abilities of the driver), and there are people who make up stories about the ones who are travelling. Like me. I saw a guy's female best friend trying to attract his attention. It was clear they were sharing something - reading in the same positions, both wearing glasses, he showing her certain landscapes or giggling over certain lines from the books. The girlfriend was a bit resentful, however compensated by owning the right to kiss the guy, at which point the best friend looked out of the window. Quite funny to watch, actually.

Tonight she told me she'd known I had been rushing back to you.
What she didn't know was there was nobody to come rushing back to.
Or is there?

So now you've got the best of me
Come on and take the rest of me
Oh baby
(The Real Thing, You to me are everything)

Those things we will never say

There are, for every one of us, things we will never say. Be it that we like someone to the point of melting, or we have our own secret little plans, we are not able to verbalise those things, speak about them properly or even touch upon them in daily interaction with others. At times, they come up in our mind Even then, we cannot let them out of our head, because we constantly think about either what the other will think, that we will scare him or her or be scared by what the other will have to say – or even worse, that it will not matter to him or her as much as it matters to us and we will then be so disappointed.

There are small things – such as what we like about the cloudless weather – or what we fancy about ice-cream (like licking the ice cone when it melts) – or even bigger things – such as what we really think or how we would go about seducing a green-eyed blonde. Or how we feel about being betrayed. It never matters what it is, we just cannot talk about it – because it has taken a deep seat within our emotions and ration tells us this is uncontrollable. The interesting part is that everything that is in our head is looking for a way to get out, and so we start dreaming about what we cannot speak about. We draw it. We sing it. We ultimately do it, or even worse – we come to be it.

I've known the secret for a week or two,

Nobody knows, just we two.

(The Beatles, Do You Want To Know A Secret)

Those things that we will never say, we will do (such as, being fatty, you tend to go out with slender people, in the hope nobody will notice). If we do not find a way of expressing them, they will express themselves – like it or not. And some of them we will come to regret we haven't said ourselves.

Old habits get worn off

Seeing somebody from my past almost always brings back good memories, and having them around sparks very inspiring discussions. You might say I am a nostalgic, but sometimes I like dipping in the years gone by and try to find a meaning in them, a red line that leads to an ending. It is not always this way. Past really is only what we make of it... and sometimes it makes no sense. There are people who have meant something special to you at some point or the other, and later on, when you lose them, you try to find a meaning in their presence. There even can be one at times, but remember even that is deceiving. People and things only bear the symbols you invest them with. A necklace I have got from a friend will only signify for me the good memories and times I have enjoyed with this friend. My mum's photo holding my dog will take me back to the moments when we had the dog and it woke me up by licking my face in the morning :)

The point is: although it's nice to walk the shadows of past, hooking into it can make you lose grips with everyday reality. My experience has showed me that living the moment provides for the brightest memories, and that past is no place to live in.

We haven't spoken in months

You see i've been counting the days

I dream of such humanities, such insanities

I'm lost like a kid and i'm late

But i've never taken your coats

Haven't no block on my phone

I act like an addict, i just got to have it

I can never just leave it alone

(Mick Jagger & Dave Stewart, Old Habits Die Hard)

Me? To sew and iron?

My first newspaper article (back in the days.. :)) was about a street ad featuring a smart-looking blonde in a suit, who sat and looked daringly into the camera. Above her you could read "Eu? Sa cos si sa calc?" ("Me? To sew and iron?"). The obvious idea was that she would never-ever-in-a-million-years-touch-those-despicable-instruments, and it was one that spread very fast. The modern woman has no time for sewing - let's face it, she is much too busy advancing her career or going to the gym to do (any) kind of housework. I made copious fun of the smart-dressed (possibly a consultant? :) ) girl in that article, quoting an old couple who stood looking at the ad: “Pai ar cam trebui, mai fata...” (“You kinda should, lassie...”) This is actually a reproach I've been hearing a lot – that we women are now so emancipated we hell don't have clue about what a (sewing) needle is and how to use it. Plus, it is said that we have no desire to cook and to see to a partner's well-being, our only wild ambition being to climb the social ladder and hit the poor losers who follow us with our high heels in the head and then have a glorious laugh at winning the battle of sexes.

Well, please allow me to disappoint you and blow up my own myth. In this historical evening it was I who spent two (2) whole hours fighting my way with a needle through a pair of trousers and then ironing them. O gods! Could it be that I am no capitalistic ladder-climber and instead an old spinster in disguise? Huh, if this were the only criteria, maybe I could make it to the pantheon of traditionalist relics. I'll keep you posted on this one anyway, for Thursday I've planned cooking for friends, so perhaps I will qualify, after all... :)

Pay my own fun, oh and I pay my own bills

Always 50/50 in relationships

(Destiny's Child, Independent Women)

My green hour in Green Hours

There is some good jazz over this weekend in Green Hours, Afro Cuba Blues tonight and Eldad Tarmu Chamber Jazz Ensemble tomorrow evening.

Later edit: Because of the rain, my green hours turned Kilkenny Red in Terminus. Will I be more lucky tomorrow evening?

By the way, did you know what the origin of "green hours" is? The green hour is the time interval after 17.00, when for the Brits it was a time for relaxation, listening to music and talking, up to the dinner that was scheduled around 19.00.

Do people deserve second chances?

Think about how many times a day you are forgiving yourself. Is it once, twice, every time you screw up? Sometimes you hear that little voice inside your head saying "be less mean" or "don't eat all that chocolate" or "don't allow yourself to be late any more", but you quickly forget and find an excuse for why you did it this time.

When it comes to others, you think before you forgive, or before considering a second chance. Then, after you allow that person back into your life and are again disappointed, you tend to be grudgy and bury the relationship under doubt. When you do, it is with an inner anger that will not go away unless you manage to appease it. It is hard to give second chances, because you fear being hurt again and again, and because you don't see a point in spending time with people who are not worth it.

My experiences with second chances were sometimes good (that is to say, tha glass is half full :)). They were disappointing in the sense of a diminished feeling of affiliation. Also, there were times when I regretted giving the first chance at all.

Why and how we decide to give second chances (or third, or fourth.. ) is a decision each one of us makes, at some point, for different reasons. We may love, or hate, or have been hurt a little, or maybe a lot, but how we respond to this that really matters. To choose between responding with evil to disappointment, or integrating it into our lives and learning to move on, is difficult. It takes emotional education and strength, and there is no standard recipe as to what will work.

Walking back to you
Is the hardest thing that I can do
That I can do for you
For you
(The Jesus and Mary Chain, Just Like Honey)

Looking for the summer

Yesterday was the last summer day. The morning started with chilliness, and by the afternoon it became increasingly cold. I had a meeting at around 18.00 in a wonderful little place close to the office. We wanted to serve the tea outside - and after an hour my naked arms were already freezing. So came autumn, all of a sudden, letting me wonder how the summer had gone by - and if it had existed at all...

And still I stand this very day
With a burning wish to fly away
I'm still looking
Looking for the summer
(Chris Rea, Looking for the summer)

Smart or very smart?

My boss said something today that intrigued me: "There is a distance between being smart and being very smart". Humm. Great - but what is that distance and how do you measure it? Or at least, how do you quantify a person's smarts? (Do you even want to?)

"Smartness" is about situations, not people. Think Forrest Gump.

Examples:
A very bright informatics student is "very smart" in class; in his behaviour towards his girlfriend he can be less than smart.
Someone who makes money for his own benefit is smart; if he can bring business for more people, he is very smart.
An implementation consultant is very smart in his area of expertise but can only deliver a smart answer in other ERPs, for example.

That girl's a different girl today
Said that girl's a different girl to her you kissed last night
You couldn't have done that on a Sunday

Last night what we talked about
It made so much sense
But now the haze has ascended
It don't make no sense anymore
(Arctic Monkeys, From the Ritz to the Rubble)

I'll go wherever you will go

Tonight just a short post about a song I used to love and only listen to now from time to time... Do we really want to go wherever someone else goes? It might might be nice to take them on a trip to France, to go with them to a concert or take them out to a beer. But how much sense does it make to follow them in the direction of their own aspirations and dreams, if this means the suppression of one's own ideals?

So lately, been wondering
Who will be there to take my place
When I'm gone you'll need love
To light the shadows on your face
If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all
Then between the sand and stone
Could you make it on your own
(The Calling, I'll Go Wherever You May Go)