dear people

noiembrie 26, 2011

it’s been so long again that i want to just get re-introductions over with. i have ACHED to update for this whole past month. it may not look like it, but this blog, as personal (in the bad way) and bullshitty as it’s been lately, does feel like a concrete gesture i’m making toward staying connected. not letting my slippery life slipper away etc.

bottom-line: things have somewhat changed again. new job (i work for the Forum of Montreal in a veery qualified janitorial position, more on which later. hopefully.), new weird learning habits (i’m doing russian biweekly if possible, lately over luscious (can i say that??) soy lattes in the concordia ghetto. i am writing essay drafts on my room-daily schedule-describing my family -my city – shopping dialogues on my dinner breaks at tim hortons. i have late breakfasts in bed and have read a string of interesting books. new…new things: i am volunteering to teach english to immigrants at House of Friendship, which is the nicest place of its sort in the nicest nice possible area in Mtl (duluth and coloniale, anyone? yes, being posh here.) I am trying to write again because it ITCHES. so far it’s been shuffling and whining, but we’ll see.

we’ll see about everything, won’t we? in the end. i sense the winter pre-depression panic creeping and i shrug and watch it creep. it snowed once so far, but it hasn’t been supercold, and cold is just one of the variables anyway. the state of my potential anecdote supply is very very promising, and the future as uncertain as ever. and my butterflies are from the same old sources. and you, my dear people, the thought of you is a rough thick blanket that i have to discipline myself to drag and set in place: but it’s here, with me, warming. i’m thankful for this and for you.

Reclame

sofa and a glass of water

martie 14, 2011

i’m trying to keep it simple.

this past weekend i saw/talked to my grandma for the first time (on video chat, but okay) in 2 and a half years. the circumstances that helped this are as follows: i’d been pestering my parents for months to buy a normal/functional computer, and they finally did. before this, we were typing-chatting. also. my grandma is at my parents’ now because she had a sort of stroke so they had to take her out of the village and into hospital etc. now she’s out of hospital but still very weak, and i’m afraid she doesn’t even believe she will be able to get back to her home in her lifetime (yes, i am assuming and appropriating her worry. this is the way my own worrying works.)

i honestly don’t know how to talk about it. i start sometimes if prompted, then it’s painful and i cry and my head hurts then i end up talking about the other bad-things-in-my-life, just because. so it’s not a conversation i would choose to have. because yes i can say how i think i feel about it, but my problem keeps being that it’s not my life i’m talking about. iam…

…to take it from the top: i have chosen to live someplace else. so i don’t really exactly belong to any grief or pain or, you know, real caretaking that is going on in that apartment. it is to some extent my problem, and on the other hand it isn’t. since i don’t want to return to romania (well i do, but not to the point where i leave here and i’m not allowed by law to return), that’s it. what i can do from here is look pretty in front of a screen for a couple hours a week. mission easily accomplished. go on.

i find myself thinking of various coping mechanisms. i.e. ‘what to do now’ because it seems like i have to do something. i was outraged at myself when dieting popped to mind, almost automatically. it’s spring, i can try a cleansing etc. diet. that was what i used to do: short term i was pretty good at it. i mean it’s a common sense thought, no?

a friend of mine way back used to say that when he was feeling bad (physically or of any kind of bad) he would visualize an armchair, and him just sitting down in it and waiting for it to go away. „if i wait enough, it will go away”. another male friend’s idea of happiness was an open window at night and a tall glass of water. when i think of these people and our conversations, and try to extract the positivity out of that, mostly what comes to my mind is that i’m old.

i sat on my sofa this morning, with a mug of water at hand. does it make a difference that it’s a sofa not an armchair, a mug not a glass? morning not night? of course it does. north america not eastern europe, a 31 y.o. girl instead of a teenager? i want new tricks. more than anything i want belief.

i thought about traveling. i don’t want to travel alone anymore. about writing. i don’t feel like i’m able to write at the moment, never mind that my focus isn’t present. about relaxing, entertaining activities. but it takes (! all it takes is!) that frame of mind where a spark of optimism is embedded. i mean i can find reasons to refuse to do anything but sit here and cry my eyes out.

it’s sunny. the weather site says it’s just a bit below zero. i just bought myself a new green-ish spring dress and a pair of cherry-red (shiny) rubber boots. and i’ll soon move to get groceries and maybe take a walk in parc laurier. i’m very tired of being in my life, that is all.


soundtrack to a breakup

februarie 25, 2011

chic gamine – les echos

 

manu chao&tonino carotone – me cago en el amor

 

moriarty – jimmy


gimme sympathy

ianuarie 24, 2011

this whole year started with semi-nostalgia and  retold stories, or continued from thereon. the story of this song is (facebook got me started!!!! sorry!!): i was listening to it last summer. last summer i was taking the metro ‘direction montmorency’ with my hair still wet in a scarf, with the afternoon already tapering into evening, humming „come on baby play me something/like here comes the sun”. that’s all the lyrics i knew of it, except for the beatles and the rolling stones part.  i thought the song was called „here comes the sun”. and then d. laughed at me because he says metric is a hipster band and because at one point she sings „seriously”, which i hadn’t noticed, although „seriously” is one of my most noticeable verbal tics.

today is one of the coldest days so far, like -23, feels like -30ish because of the wind. still, the sun was brilliant. i just went out for groceries and my face froze. so. quickly. and in my headphones, on the radio? here comes the sun. seriously… and i’m thinking overthinking until my brain chokes on it.

i wanted to start a new blog, or at least revamp this one, because i don’t necessarily feel like writing to the world in general about how i’m cooking marinated chicken and baked rice, and how i’m agonizing over the decision of taking russian classes and how i must get to quebec city soon! and to goddamn toronto. or other things that i don’t want to write about anyway. so i planned something a tad more impersonal (or less immediately personal): my travelogue/ cultural gap anecdotes collection. i would call it „planet awkward”, after an idea my friend lora and i had 2 years + ago.

but then, oh then:

i miss my old friends.

i want them to still love me and i need their good opinion and i insanely want to be able and spend 1000$ on a ticket just to sit down with them in a cafe or teahouse. (flowers. aux anges. bulgakov. zorki. show me the new ones. i’ll take you to le general. or even better, at your place. cause i don’t have one.) and ask them to just…tell me. everything they can.

i’ve been stupid to think i could make it work. i’m stupid like this every time i leave a place. every time i am left behind and i’m left clinging. i never forget though. i don’t know what i did. but today i just want you YOU  to say it’s alright. (basically say i’m alright, but you know it.)

my old friends from back-in-the-old-country are the reason this blog exists in the first place and why at some points i kept trying. i’m wondering at which point letting go is the sane option, and probably just being afraid that nothing good can start from scratch again. i want all of my life to be real, and meant.

 

 


my music 2010 (3): love alone is not enough

decembrie 15, 2010

27. karine polwart – i`m gonna do it all

28. i love monsters – spine

29. beach house – zebra

30. the moondoggies – changing

31. arcade fire – we used to wait

32. neko case – this tornado loves you

33. neko case – people got a lotta nerve

34. radio radio – jacuzzi

35. wilco – you and i

36. yeasayer – 2080

37. moist – silver

38. arcade fire – ready to start

39. alfa rococo – plus rien a faire

40. the scarlet ending – exactly what you want

41. tired pony – dead american writers


i don’t necessarily believe in sorcery…

aprilie 22, 2010

…i’ve failed twice to post the ending of the previous post. two days apart, while i gave myself time to rethink it, my edits failed to register both times. it feels a bit creepy.

anyway. let’s see if this new one works. i was trying to talk about the reading i went to. i was sitting next to an old man and found myself staring at his hands and just wanting to touch them. that’s the short of it. the next „mental genuflexion”, as someone would call it, was to the romanian legend of eternal youth.

summary for non-romanians: in a far-away kingdom, a prince demands from his parents etyernal youth AS A CONDITION FOR BEING BORN. they want a kid so much that they’d promise anything. of course the prince gets born, grows up and proceeds to break their hearts by going away to find what he was born for. AND HE FINDS IT. an enchanted land where time stands still, blah-blah, complete with not one fair princess, but 3!! (i ask you!). anyway. after spending a small eternity there, he kinda gets bored and misses home and decides to go for a visit. ooops. kingdom totally changed, old castle in ruins AND HIS OWN, PERSONAL DEATH WAITING FOR HIM patiently, at the bottom of an old trunk in the castle cellar. the end.

so the thread is this: red door – reading/audience – mortality – myth&legend – selfish choices – belonging and missing. i’ve thought about becoming a storyteller. i’m thinking about it.


(pitching my unwritten posts)

februarie 15, 2010

happy new year, people! well – it’s happy new chinese year by this time, but you know what i mean.

a vicious combination of busy+ lazy+  good weather+ impending changes vibe has unfortunately prevented me from ranting on here in 2010 so far. (i ranted in my diary instead – whatever works – also, haha, with good reason: you DO NOT  want to read that). but , before the ‘see you in montreal’ day, i’m thinking of trying this:

i’ll ‘pitch’ the things i would have written about, ~ twitter-length, for whoever is interested. and i promise to develop on them in a separate post each, but only upon request. (mmm actually very transparent way of checking who the hell is still reading this blog.)

okay: my topics.

1) again, why do we write? and, what to write about? addressing the impact ‘precious’ (the movie, and the sapphire book) has made on me, and tied in with dave eggers’ „what is the what”. how do artists as relatively privileged people get away with addressing painful issues from the point of view of the pained.

2) pro and anti olympics. yes, both. guilty and entertained, righteous and exploited and joyful and proud. lining up for free concerts, mouthing the canadian anthem. arguing about shane koczyan’s poem. attending protests, and blackout poetry projects, whatever that is. cheering for gold. ogling speed skaters.

3) sweet encounters – bacon cake, donut birthday cake, new year’s leftovers, bake sale as haiti benefit, and MUFFINS. desserts from the aching perspective of someone who finds it too hard to cook and too easy to overeat. obesity, balance, and having a good heart.

4) „i don’t care” is the most hurtful sentence in the english language. discussion, with concrete illustrations, and reflection upon how i use it to hurt others. possible translations/equivalences in romanian.

5) popcorn at the movies. this one’s about routines, cultural or otherwise. but mostly personal. how i laugh at others’ small addictions but i would freak out so fast to be deprived of mine. (on a second thought, i think it’s about that primarily: seeing a stranger’s tics with an unforgiving eye. the opposite of kindness – the opposite of topic 3)).

6) new place. moving out and moving in. testing squeaky floors:). plans for a new start, from wild hopes to resignation and back to color samples and garage sales. trying to sublet sight unseen. going with insight versus trying rationality. this is an ongoing ~thing and too close for comfort, but funny.

* walking on air as the most (over)used metaphor for my own life. every step forward in a relationship is taken through a leap of assumption that the other person already likes me. if it weren’t for hubris i would never talk to anyone ever. (insert cartoon of scooby doo or whoever walking over the edge of the cliff and keeping walking, and only falling once he becomes aware.) (on a second thought, i think this really is everything i have to say on this topic.)

7) jd salinger and howard zinn and how their deaths (as a double-impact shock) affected me even if salinger was 91 and i’d never heard of zinn before. concluding again that i want to be a storyteller rather than a historian.