The Nile vs. Denial

A while ago I heard this, I guess on TV, I wrote it down and completely forgot about it, until yesterday; while cleaning up my notebook, I found it.

The Nile is not just a river in Egypt.
It's a freaking ocean.
So how do you keep from drowning in it?

At first it didn't make sense, until I realized that the pronunciation for "The Nile" and "Denial" is the same: /dI'naIl/ (it's lacking a character, the schwa, or inverted 'e', but you get the idea). Then it did make sense. Denial is an ocean, and it happens that sometimes in our lives we are happily swimming in it without being aware that it's not a tiny pond, or a swimming pool. It is an ocean.
We refuse to believe what is right in front of our eyes, because maybe we are so attached to an idea, a concept, a person, that we cannot see the obvious: the idea is wrong, the concept does not make sense, the person couldn't care less about us.
Has it ever happened to you? Normally it happens with people we like, let's be honest with each other. We try and save a relationship even if it's hanging by a breaking thread over a deep gorge. We give the benefit of the doubt to the other person as if it's going out of style. We come up with every sort of excuse to justify a disrespectful behavior. The relationship is over, but still, we hang on to it as if there's no tomorrow. And the funniest thing is, OUR friends tell us, they try and make us realize how stupid we are, but we just don't listen. Or, when OUR friends are in that same denial situation, WE get mad at THEM for not seeing the obvious, while we are utterly incapable of seeing the same pattern in our own lives. "Oh, but no, he's actually a nice person"; "He actually cares about me, it's just that he's tired from work and doesn't feel like talking"; "Oh, he works so much, he stays out late to finish his work for the next day"; "He must have forgotten to call me"; "He must be very busy"; "Oh, it must be the phone call of a friend of his, of course it's not the phone number of another girl". Yeah, right.
I've been there, You've been there, at some point or another. I'm not saying that only women do this, men are members of the group as well, but probably they are less likely to admit it.
There's no way to avoid falling into the ocean of denial, at some point or another in our lives. Let's just hope we have friends around us who are willing to throw a life-jacket, and that we're good at swimming.

A Boondocks Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving!

I am grateful for...

1) being healthy
2) a family who supports me in the pursuit of my goals, however weird they may be
3) lessons that I have learnt from friends, both good and bad
4) being able to study what I like
5) being in a country that gives me more career opportunities than my native country
6) episodes of "Friends" in syndication
7) the color of leaves in the fall
8) Ice-cream
9) having found someone who helped me fix my computer
10) funny movies that let you spend two hours without bad thoughts
11) four days without the alarm clock ringing in the morning
12) dishwashers
13) frozen pizza (or better, edible frozen pizza)
14) chicken broth and alphabet-shaped pasta
15) funny emails forwarded by friends
16) knowing that it's snowing at home and I'm here wearing short sleeves
17) Christmas songs
18) tea and cookies in the morning (or whenever it's cold)
19) dogs
20) my mom buying me a ticket to Disney on Ice
21) being able to walk barefoot on the carpet
22) chocolate
23) butterflies
24) sunflowers (even plastic ones!)
25) online ordering
26) bead stores
27) having happy friends who got married or already met the love of their life
28) Chopin and whoever plays piano
29) air conditioning and heating in my apartment
30) having enough money to buy Brie cheese and go to the movies once a month
31) my brain being appreciated more than my appearance
32) microwaveable popcorn
33) going to the gym
34) hot water (nothing beats a hot shower in the morning)
35) perfumed candles
36) soap bubbles
37) oranges and the way they smell when you pick them from the tree
38) having room for improvement
39) being able not to take myself too seriously
40) chewing gum
41) fries and chips
42) being able to appreciate people beyond the way they look
43) coming from a country so rich in culture and art and being able to share it with people I meet

... and so much more...

Something funny... yet again

Note: This forwarded email reminds me of college days when, with a good friend of mine, we'd spend the two boring hours of General Linguistics class (on Saturday mornings at 9, now cut me some slack here!) trying to remember and write down all the 50 US States. Sometimes we'd make it harder by trying to remember them alphabetically, which didn't make it any easier. We'd always forget states like Delaware, Oklahoma, Kentucky, Nebraska... The funniest thing was that, after the 10 allotted minutes for our challenge, when we checked who remembered the most States, we'd always end up tied: none of us could ever remember more than 48 states at any given time... Oh, the good ol' days...

State mottos (received as email forward message)
Oregon
Spotted owl; it's what's for dinner
New Mexico
Lizards make great pets
North Dakota
We really are one of the fifty states
Really we're not kidding
Delaware
We were the first damn it!
And don't you forget it
Colorado
If you don't ski don't bother us
Connecticut
Like Massachusetts only the Kennedys don't own it
Louisiana
We're not all drunk Cajun wackos but that is our tourist campaign
Michigan
We're shaped like a glove, that must mean something!
Tell us it means something!
Washington
We're bigger, weÂ’re better
Not really, it rains too damn much
Wisconsin
We're really cheesy
New York
Don't worry be happy
Minnesota
10,000 lakes
10,000,000,000 mosquitoes
Oklahoma
Help!
West Virginia
One big happy family...really!
Rhode Island
We're not really an island
Idaho
More than just potatoes
Well, okay, we're not
Hawaii
Haka tiki mou sh'ami toru (death to mainland scum)
Leave your money
Kentucky
5 million people
Only 15 last names
New Jersey
You want a #%!*#% motto?
I got yer #%!*#%! motto right here
Utah
Our Jesus is better than yours
Mississippi
Come visit, and feel better about your own state
Wyoming
Where men are men and sheep are scared
Ohio
At least we're not Michigan
Washington D.C.
We've got issues
California
Se habla Espanol?
Arkansas
Literacy ain't everything
North Carolina
Tobacco is a vegetable damn it!
Alaska
11,509 Eskimos can't be wrong
Alabama
Yep, we got electricity!
Maine
We're really cold but we got great crabcakes
Texas
Our man is the captain of this ship, so shut the hell up
Pennsylvania
We got a big bell with a crack
Yeah we're # 1
Nevada
Poker & hookers galore

Expectations

I probably expect too much from people. Or maybe I just expect them to behave according to certain norms that, in my opinion, can be labeled as common sense, but that in fact are not; they may be common sense for me because that's the way I was brought up.
For example, I feel very bad if I don't return phone calls, emails, text messages or any other form of communication. If someone contacts me and leaves a message, I feel like it's an obligation for me to reply. Or maybe not necessarily an obligation, but I do feel very bad if I don't do it. Even if I'm mad, or angry, or annoyed, either at the person or at content of the message, in any way it was transmitted to me, I still believe that I owe that person a reply. That person has the right to know if what they said, or did, was offensive to me, and why. I don't pretend that people read my mind, and it would be nice if other people didn't pretend that you can read theirs. There's nothing worse than asking yourself questions and trying to come up with an answer on your own, especially if they're about someone else - you almost always get the wrong answer.
I cannot accept that someone does not contact you for weeks with the excuse that they were too busy to contact you. In the era of email and cell phones, that's not a valid excuse. People don't sit down and write letters anymore, at least not under everyday circumstances. How long does it actually take to write two lines, be it on a computer or on a cell phone? 2 minutes? 3 minutes tops? How long does it take to say something like: "Sorry I missed your call, I don't have time to talk right now, I'll call you as soon as I can"???????? Or: "Sorry I can't talk to you now, I need some time to think. I'll call you when I'm ready"??????
Almost everybody who works in an office has access to a computer, and to email, or they have a computer at home, connected in some way to the internet. And everybody now owns a cell phone. So no excuses like: "I didn't know how to contact you". I can accept and understand a delay of a couple of days, in certain cases even an entire week (people may take a week off work and go somewhere on a trip), but after that, it starts smelling like rotten fish.
You call people and they don't answer your calls; you email and it takes ages before you get a reply; you leave voice messages and you never hear from them. Now, if they behave like that, it is normal that you start thinking that maybe you did, or said, something wrong to them. Or that maybe your friendship is not worth that much to them, if they don't make any efforts to return your call/email. Why should I waste my time being friends to someone if they can't take 2 minutes out of their day to reply? And again, I refuse to believe that people work for 10 hours straight without a single break in between. I refuse to believe that. Or that they don't have 2 minutes to write a text message when they go to bed, before turning their phone off for the night.
Again, probably it's just because this is the way I was raised - if people contact YOU, and not someone else, there IS a reason. And it's just common courtesy to reply to someone's attempt at contacting you.
Otherwise don't call me your friend, don't count me in your personal circle of friends; just move me to the "acquaintances" group, where I won't be upset, or sad, if you only contact me every other month.

5 rules to live better

The story of the donkey does have a moral after all!!!

Check the story at: http://upchucky.net/~upchucky/flash-fun/farmer-donkey.swf

Something funny... again

(from one of the funniest blogs out there, "Bits and Pieces" - http://bitsandpieces1.blogspot.com/)

Things you should know...but probably don't

1. Money isn't made out of paper, it's made out of cotton.
2. The Declaration of Independence was written on hemp paper.
3. The dot over the letter i is called a "tittle".
4. A raisin dropped in a glass of fresh champagne will bounce up and down continuously from the bottom of the glass to the top.
5. Susan Lucci is the daughter of Phyllis Diller.
6. 40% of McDonald's profits come from the sales of Happy Meals.
7. 315 entries in Webster's 1996 Dictionary were misspelled
8. The 'spot' on 7UP comes from its inventor, who had red eyes. He was albino.
9. On average, 12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents, daily.
10. Warren Beatty and Shirley MacLaine are brother and sister.
11. Chocolate affects a dog's heart and nervous system; a few ounces will kill a small sized dog.
12. Orcas (killer whales) kill sharks by torpedoing up into the shark's stomach from underneath, causing the shark to explode.
13. Most lipstick contains fish scales (eeww).
14. Donald Duck comics were banned from Finland because he doesn't wear pants.
15. Ketchup was sold in the 1830s as medicine.
16. Upper and lower case letters are named 'upper' and 'lower' because in the time when all original print had to be set in individual letters, the 'upper case' letters were stored in the case on top of the case that stored the smaller, 'lower case' letters.
17. Leonardo da Vinci could write with one hand and draw with the other at the same time. (hence, multi-tasking was invented.)
18. Because metal was scarce, the Oscars given out during World War II were made of wood.
19. There are no clocks in Las Vegas gambling casinos.
20. The name Wendy was made up for the book Peter Pan; there was never a recorded Wendy before!
21. There are no words in the dictionary that rhyme with: orange, purple, and silver!
22. Leonardo Da Vinci invented scissors. Also, it took him 10 years to paint Mona Lisa's lips.
23. A tiny amount of liquor on a scorpion will make it instantly go mad and sting itself to death.
24. The mask used by Michael Myers in the original "Halloween" was a Captain Kirk mask painted white.
25. If you have three quarters, four dimes, and four pennies, you have $1.19 You also have the largest amount of money in coins without being able to make change for a dollar (good to know.)
26. By raising your legs slowly and lying on your back, you can't sink in quicksand (and you thought this list was completely useless.)
27. The phrase "rule of thumb" is derived from an old English law,which stated that you couldn't beat your wife with anything wider than your thumb (sign of a true civilized society . not.)
28. The first product Motorola started to develop was a record player for automobiles. At that time, the most known player on the market was the Victrola, so they called themselves Motorola.
29. Celery has negative calories! It takes more calories to eat a piece of celery than the celery has in it to begin with. It's the same with apples! (Guess what I'm buying on my next trip to the grocery store?)
30. Chewing gum while peeling onions will keep you from crying.
31. The glue on Israeli postage stamps is certified kosher.
32. The Guinness Book of Records holds the record for being the book most often stolen from Public Libraries.
33. Astronauts are not allowed to eat beans before they go into space because passing wind in a space suit damages it (families taking long car trips should adopt this same policy.)

Something funny

(this may not have any scientific proof, but it's nice anyway, it provides some interesting answers to common questions)

Did you know...

1) ... that it's impossible to suck your elbow.
2) ... that Coke (Coca-Cola) was originally green.
3) ... that it's possible to have a cow walk up the stairs, but not to have a cow walk down the stairs.
4) ... that the quack quack of a duck does not produce echo and nobody knows why.
5) ... that every king represented in the cards stands for a great king in history: Spades: King David; Clubs: Alexander The Great; Hearts: Charles the Great; Diamonds: Julius Caesar.
6) ... that if you multiply 111,111,111 by 111,111,111 it equals 12,345,678,987,654,321.
7) ... that in the statue of a person on a horse, in a park, if the person has his legs in the air, he died in combat; if the horse had one of its front paws up, the person died due to the wounds received in combat; if the horse has all the four paws on the ground, the person died for natural causes.
8) ... that the name Jeep comes from the abbreviation given by the armed forces to vehicles for "Generic Purpose", that is, "G.P.".
9) ... that it's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open.
10) ... that right-handed people live an average of nine years longer than left-handed people.
11) ... that a cockroach can live up to nine days without its head before he dies... of hunger.
12) ... that elephants are the only animals that can't jump (luckily...).
13) ... that a person laughs about 15 times a day.
14) ... that the word cemetery koimetirion which means "dormitory".
15) ... that in Old England people could not have sex without the King's consent (except for the members of the Royal family). When people wanted a child they had to ask permission to the King, who would give them a sign to hang out of the door while having intercourse. The sign read "Fornication Under Consent of the King", that is, F.U.C.K.
16) ... that during the war of secession, when the troops went back to their quarters, if they did not have any casualties they would write a sign reading "0 Killed"; from here comes the expression OK, meaning "all is well".
17) ... that when the English conquerors first arrived in Australia they got scared when they saw those strange animals performing incredible jumps. They called one of the Indigenous people and tried to ask questions with gestures. Hearing the person say "Kan Ghu Ru", the conquerors adopted the word "kangaroo". After long research, linguists determined that what the Indigenous people meant to say was "I don't understand you".
18) ... that 80% of the people who read this tried to suck their elbow!!!!!

Wide open spaces

"Wide Open Spaces"
Who doesn't know what I'm talking about
Who's never left home, who's never struck out
To find a dream and a life of their own
A place in the clouds, a foundation of stone
Many precede and many will follow
A young girl's dream no longer hollow
It takes the shape of a place out west
But what it holds for her, she hasn't yet guessed
She needs wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs new faces
She knows the highest stakes
She traveled this road as a child
Wide eyed and grinning, she never tired
But now she won't be coming back with the rest
If these are life's lessons, she'll take this test
She needs wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs new faces
She knows the highest stakes
As her folks drive away, her dad yells, "Check the oil!"
Mom stares out the window and says, "I'm leaving my girl"
She said, "It didn't seem like that long ago"
When she stood there and let her own folks know
She needs wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs new faces
She knows the highest stakes
She knows the highest stakes
She knows the highest stakes...
(Dixie Chicks)


The first time I heard this song, I was transfixed. This was me. This song was speaking of me in a way that I was not yet able to understand. Of course, it speaks about a million people at the same time, I'm not saying I have anything special about me that a song is only about me. But it reflected my experience, having a dream and pursuing "out west", leaving the family who worries about you, having those wide open skies and room to make mistakes and finding my own way in a country where I cannot really rely on anybody, and my family is way too far to solve my everyday petty problems...
I have the feeling that "locals" don't really understand what being a foreign student means. Oh of course, you're exotic because you come from another country. But what about when you can call your family every day? Or what about Thanksgiving? Or Christmas? They go spend the holidays with their families, and we stay here, alone, far from the warmth of a family gathering. Our company is not a stuffed turkey, rather, it is a book, the TV, some ice cream maybe, and the silence. The void that cannot be filled. That piece of yourself, of you own soul that you left somewhere around the world.
Yes, I know the stakes. And they are outrageously high.

Sorry... to myself

For hearing all my doubts so selectively and
For continuing my numbing love endlessly
For helping you and myself: not even considering
For beating myself up and over functioning

To whom do I owe the biggest apology?
No one's been crueler than I've been to me

For letting you decide if I indeed was desirable
For my self love being so embarrassingly conditional and
For denying myself to somehow make us compatible and
For trying to fit a rectangle into a ball

To whom do I owe the biggest apology?
No one's been crueler than I've been to me

I'm sorry to myself
My apologies begin here before everybody else
I am sorry to myself
For treating me worse than I would anybody else

For blaming myself for your unhappiness and
For my impatience when I was perfect where I was
Ignoring all the signs that I was not ready and
Expecting myself to be where you wanted me to be

To whom do I owe the first apology?
No one's been crueler than I've been to me

And I'm sorry to myself
My apologies begin here before everybody else
I'm sorry to myself
For treating me worse than I would anybody else

Well, I wonder which crime is the biggest?
Forgetting you or forgetting myself...
Had I heeded the wisdom of the latter
I would've naturally loved the former

For ignoring you: my highest voices
For smiling when my strife was all too obvious
For being so disassociated from my body and
For not letting go when it would've been the kindest thing

To whom do I owe the biggest apology?
No one's been crueler than I've been to me

And I'm sorry to myself
My apologies begin here before everybody else
I'm sorry to myself
For treating me worse than I would anybody else
I'm sorry to myself
My apologies begin here before everybody else
I'm sorry to myself
For treating me worse than I would anybody else

(Alanis Morissette)

Family is family

My family's Italian, I mean Italian. And I'm not talking about some cartoon version of what you think being Italian means, like some badly scripted parody. I mean having a strong sense of responsibility about your place in the family and the implications of your actions on your family. I mean, knowing that your parents and relatives live for you and your brother and your sister and your cousins and eventually your children. They live for you and hope for you and live through you. And in this world, this small, rarefied world, every action brings honor or dishonor, respect or disrespect to your father, your mother, even your grandmother [...]. It's a sense that I'm part of a whole system and that no matter how hard I try and pull away I keep getting sucked back into the sphere of this family, like a lesser planet which hovers around a large one.

(Michelle Alfano. "You Can't Be Too Strong." Stories from Blood & Aphorisms. Toronto: Gutter Press. 1993: 50-63)

Finally someone who is able to capture the essence of the Italian family relations. Sometimes it is hard to explain why we are so attached to our families, why I am always and no matter what at my mother's and grandmother's beck and call. It's not just because, well, they are my 'elders' and, as such, deserve respect, but it's also because of the particular family relationship that ties us to each other.
Sometimes it can feel like a burden, for this feeling of unconditional attachment never leaves you, you can never forget that all their eyes are fixed on you and on your every move. you can feel them watching you even if you're 9 time zones away, you wake up and for a split second you hear their voices in your head, "be good, behave well, don't be a disappointment."
But to be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way: when everything else falls apart, when I don't know where to turn or who to turn to, this is THE ONE thing that I can always count on. Knowing that there will always be a group of people who will love you no matter what.
How many people are lucky enough to be able to say the same?

Musings

Sometimes I wonder whether I'm in the right place. If what I'm doing is right. If I can actually finish what I have started (and chased for so long).
I came here for the first time in 1998, for summer school, and I elected California as the very first place I would visit/live in in the United States. There is a reason for that, it wasn't random. My first city was San Francisco, where I stayed for 4 weeks. I never had such a cold summer in the northern hemisphere; every morning at 7 I'd go out and hop on the bus wrapped up in the fog and a very thick sweater. But it was ok, it was only for 4 weeks, I could bear with it. That very first time I also visited Las Vegas, for a brief, 3-day Independence day celebration. Up to now, no fireworks can beat the ones I saw in Vegas that night, or maybe it's not just the fireworks, but the situation in itself: the people I was with, the music (I still have that tape, and just listening to it brings me back to that night), the weather...
Then I picked Los Angeles, in 2001. I love big cities just as much as I love small towns and villages. In big cities you can truly experience everything they have to offer, from museums, concerts, sport games, opera and everything in between, even though it is quite hard to get to know your neighbors... Again, the time was limited, I was an exchange student, so I knew that my presence depended on the extension of the academic year, September to June. Apart from the initial feelings of displacement and the cultural clash, I think I survived pretty well.
After that, my presence in the US was not bound to school anymore, but to something else. My being in Northridge, Walnut, and now Riverside was an effort to be close to the area, not necessarily an effort to be in the US.
Now that reason is not there anymore. And I am still here. Do I like it? Sure, some days more, some days less. Can I have a decent life here? Sure, I am somehow independent. Do I have friends? I certainly do. Do I like what I am doing? Yes, again, I most certainly do.
Do I feel at home? No. I don't feel at home, as much as I don't truly feel at home when I go back for the summer. I feel that my only true home is in an airport, on a plane, but in none of the two countries. When I am here I miss my life there, my family, my dog, my friends, my food, my room, the familiarity of the place I grew up in, knowing the streets of my town like the back of my hands, riding the bicycle on Saturday afternoon in the town center, window shopping and mingling with the crowd, being a citizen and having some basic rights and knowing how to handle situations properly. When I am there I miss my life here, my friends, the large roads, my apartment, decent hamburgers, granola, my unimportant TV series, being able to speak the language, sushi, the academic environment, the ocean, the openness of the sky (I always had the feeling that there's more sky here than in Italy), the breathtaking sunsets, the bead shops.
Probably it's because the holidays are approaching, and I feel this displacement even more. The holidays are a family moment, the traditions of decorating the tree, decorating the windows and the balcony with lights, candles, grandma making pasta in a cloud of flour and familiar smells and voices.
What am I doing here? Now that my main purpose for being here has faded, why can't I go home?
But would I be able to give up all of this? It took years to get where I am now, in a graduate program, doing things I like (teaching) and studying what I like to study. Probably giving this up would be even more unbearable than missing home.
I'd feel like I were giving up my life.

If I had $9,000...

... this is what I would buy:
It's not the idea of having a motorcycle per se, it's more linked to the memories I have from my childhood. My father owned a Honda, I don't remember what model but I do remember that it was very big and its upper part was painted in a beautiful shade of burgundy. Every Saturday he would pick me up from school (I was in elementary school) and for the longest time, Saturdays were my favorite part of the week. It was nice to sit on the bike, without helmet since it was not yet mandatory, safe between my dad's arms, cruising down the streets. It was the best way to end the week and a wonderful start to the weekend. We'd run some errands before going home, where mom was waiting. Dad and I we would ride to the butcher's and get some ground horse meat (yes, we do eat horse meat), and after that we'd stop at the baker's and get some gnocco (a soft, salty, baked bread) and then head home. Mom would split the gnocco leaf open and spread the raw meat in between, with some lemon and anchovies. Then we'd let it sit for a few minutes in the oven to make it warmer and then... paradise.
I still remember the color of the motorcycle, the taste of the meat inside the warm gnocco, the scent of it spreading around the oven, the warmth of the food; I can't recall whether we did this every single Saturday, but I'd say it was an established pattern for most of the school year (except for the winter and rainy days). We'd sit at the table, together, talking, eating.
Now, in the California desert, where it hardly rains, a motorcycle is a good alternative to a car. Granted, you cannot carry a huge load as you would in the car, but nothing beats the feeling of being one with the wind, of feeling the road and being able to pass by cars when they get stuck (which is often) on the freeway.
But will a motorcycle bring back the feeling of those memories? Or just the memory itself?

Friends

When I started college, back in '96, I had this naive idea that it would somehow be like the series, "Friends": a bunch of people together, spending time, getting to know each other, joking and having fun. Well, for the most part it was like that; I met a variety of people coming from all corners of the country, some of whom I am still in touch with. We spent most of the time together, in a social environment that I have been unable to recreate ever since; I got to know them, their backgrounds and upbringing, their preferences, their quirks and pet peeves, I laughed with them, I cried with them, I loved them above anything else. They were my world. The weekend, when I got home, was unbelievably dull compared to the hectic weekdays in the apartment across the street from the university's main building (just a note: that apartment was nasty, the landlady was a pain in the neck, but nothing beats waking up at 8.45 and getting to class perfectly on time at 9...). After a while, though, things fell apart with a few of the roommates, and I remember as one of my best days the time when I finally moved out and didn't have to rent a place anymore. College was almost over (at least mandatory attendance was), so I could leave the city and go back home in the comfort of my own space, without people yelling at each other for cleaning shifts, or dish washing, or what have you.
in 2000 Madrid was nothing short of a debacle. Three weeks to find a place, moving from hotel to hotel and living off the already meager grant I had received. Three weeks of McDonald's, phone calls to apartment owners and despair. I was rejected most of the times because my Spanish wasn't good, they could tell I was a foreigner so they would just say (sometimes even politely) that it was not available anymore. After those three weeks I managed to find an apartment, and it soon turned out to be like living in a soap opera - 4 girls, one of which was pocketing the extra money she got from charging the other 3 some 100 pesetas above the rent, while in the meantime living off of and carrying out an affair with a married man, and trying to slit her wrists when he decided he didn't want to pay for her rent anymore. The landlady kicked us out in December, so I moved in with one of the roommates (an American girl), only to find out that it wasn't the best solution - sharing an apartment with another girl, apparently, is a source of frustration for someone with a low self esteem, who thinks that her roommate is after every single man she invites. Oh well. I would have agreed if she had invited someone worth the pain, but I guess she just didn't need me anymore, so I left again.
In 2001, in LA, I was lucky enough to choose as my living arrangement a student-owned building two blocks away from school. 420 students, from the most diverse countries, all packed in three close buildings, everybody having breakfast, lunch and dinner together; not a moment when you would be by yourself unless you chose to, not a moment when at least one person knew where you were or where you were going. I lucked out with my roommate, a wonderful person that shared my same feelings of displacement, a European in a foreign land. We became great friends, and there's not a single week in which we don't email, even though we haven't seen each other face to face in 3 years.
Now, a few years later, I try to recreate the same environment in a different place. I have met some great people here, again coming from all corners of the country AND the world, but at the same time I decided that I didn't want to live with anybody, at least at the beginning. It's nice to come to school and meet them in the morning, have a cigarette together, chat from our offices across the hall, go to class, spend time and enjoying each other's company. Again, the weekend is a bit dull compared to the weekdays, but I guess that's what happens when all the people you meet have something more important to do during the weekend (families, partners, and what have you). It's ok, I'm the last one to complain about it, since I have my books, my beads, my phone calls to my family, and a lot of time to think - which I sadly miss during the week.
I guess by now I'm over the utopia of living in a sitcom; I guess I'm not over loving my friends (new and old) very much, and hoping that we can build ties that will last a lifetime.

Honest respect

Veteran's Day (yesterday). On TV, every single news program showed the parades to honor the military forces of the country. The most striking, and touching, was the one set up in Santa Monica, by the Pier. A large number of white crosses spread out on the sand, each with a little candle in front of it, each with a name for every soldier fallen in the war.
November 12 (today). Italy remembers the 19 soldiers fallen in Nassiriya. The President and a number of politicians pay their respects to the families of the fallen soldiers.
Two countries, the same empty rhetoric: they did not die in vain, their sacrifice helped the peace process, they will be remembered, they should be honored.
Really? Seriously? They died under false pretenses, the peace process is still light years away, terrorism is anything but defeated (Amman, anyone?), they will be remembered, but they have been dishonored. Their pledge of allegiance to their country has been dishonored.
For people who claim to be so religious (on BOTH sides of the conflict, I'm not favoring anybody here), it is quite ironic to boldly embark in such a killing spree... Isn't DO NOT KILL one of the common precepts to every religion?
Probably I am so sensitive to this subject because I know people in the military (Air Force, Navy and Army); I know why they enlisted, I know what their dream was, AND THIS IS NOT IT. I met a girl whose older brother was on one of the towers in New York; she had every reason to be enraged, but she DID NOT want the war. Nor did her family.
Now that elections are approaching (April 9, 2206) and he knows he's going to lose, the Italian Prime Minister backtracks on his previous statements: now he says he tried to tell Bush (my friend George, he calls him) that the war was wrong, that it was not the right way to go, but it was all George's fault because he wouldn't listen. Silvio tried to tell him, tried to have the UN tell him (please...), tried to work things out between George and Saddam with the help of Qaddafi (now that looks like a fun gathering), but George just wouldn't give a crap about what Silvio was saying - but wasn't Silvio Bush's best friend??? (I guess George just prefers Tony... He's taller, and definitely speaks better English.) Anyway, Berlusconi HAD to go on with the plan, so that everybody would recognize Italy's status as a leading country in the world.
Really? Seriously? Our country is as big as an ant's spit, how much do you really think we can count? Our economy is collapsing, we're the jesters of Europe, people care about us just because of food and art, and all thanks to him. April 9 is coming up, it's only 5 months away, so I guess he's willing to try everything, especially now that his plan of keeping the masses quiet is not quite working out as expected. People have been dozing off for the past two years, but I guess now there are more and more groups speaking up, wanting to know the truth, and not willing to be treated as idiots anymore. About time.
I just want to see all those young men and women, from the US and any other country that sent military personnel to die, be honored as they deserve: someone saying I AM SORRY I LIED TO YOU. War is NEVER the answer.
And then resign from office.
Millions of anthropology books affirm that humans are superior to animals because their (our?) brain is bigger and because humans are able to speak and be rational. I'm not so sure about that...

Inner peace

I need some inner peace. Time by the ocean, a walk on the beach, the smell of the immensity. I need to look up, and see the sky all over me, too much sky to take in with a single glance. Out of this room, far from the phone that never rings; I sit and wait for emails that won't arrive, alone with my thoughts, my questions, my nonexistent answers.
I find peace by the sea, the desert is taking its toll on me, more than I thought. It's flat, it's not blue and it doesn't smell good.
The dolphin is calling.
Will you walk with me?

And isn't it ironic? Don't you think?

I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors,
but I think that God's got a sick sense of humor
and when I die I expect to find him laughing
(Depeche Mode)

It's been happening quite a lot lately, that I ask myself where have I gone wrong. What have I done wrong. I assume that everybody, at some point, has had some dreams, some goals, or just some smaller, inconsequential desires as far as her/his life is concerned. I find myself wondering whether there is a predetermined number of wishes we are allowed throughout a given period of time. Let's say, this month I have behaved in a good way, so I earned 2 wishes. The previous month I was a mean spirited *****, so no freebies for me. Heaven forbid you waste your precious wishes on something like - please, let the light turn green 'cause I'm late for class.

And the irony of things, and how they happen right when you least expect them to. Murphy's Law: if something can go wrong, it most certainly will. Small things, granted, but they do make your day worse, more frustrating, a little harder to get through. Right when you see the light, when you see that one of your most cherished dreams, the one you've had for years now, can come true and you start peeping through the keyhole of the door separating you from a potential future... SLAM. There goes the door right on the tip of your nose. And when that happens, the last thing people want to hear is "oh, I know it's hard, but don't worry, it's for the greater good, maybe it wasn't supposed to be." This is something you get to when your emotions and your bruised ego have recovered a bit; you get to that acceptance point through your rationality, which of course is nowhere to be found in the aftermath of a moral defeat. And man it takes a long time...

I am not denying the existence of a Greater Being, somehwere out there, leading us on a path, although I am quite fond of my free will. I just very selfishly wish it were a bit more understanding at times... I just wish things started getting a bit better, that when I need a knife I DO get a knife, and not ten thousand spoons...

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out
When you think everything's gone wrong
And everything blows up in your face
A traffic jam when you're already late
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It's meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn't it ironic... don't you think?
(Alanis Morissette)

got freedom?

A few days ago I came across a friend's blog, where she happened to write something that has since then bugged me: "[...] should one choose to follow his/her arbitrary will (What do I want to do? Where do I want to go? What do I want to obtain?) or his/her self-determination (What should I do? Where should I go? What should I pursue? What is naturally best for my present state?)?"
This seemingly simple question only opens the way to a million other questions, in an endless chase for the ultimate answer. Arbitrary will appears to be the true form of freedom, for it allows us to pursue what we want and what we want to do, in a poignantly individualistic way (after all, any person should be allowed to do what he/she wants, or at least this seems to be the accepted truth nowadays) . What matters is what I want, hence I go after it.
According to Aristotle, though, this is a false kind of freedom, for it urges us to be dependent on what our "appetites" tell us - regardless of whether it is good or bad for us at that moment. The true form of freedom seems to be self-determination, when we are free from dependence and we are able not to be led by our appetites, our will or our desires. In this case we should be able to determine what is best for us at a given point in time, whether we should go one way or another, regardless of what our "appetites" tell us. But what is leading us then, if not out will, our desires, our dreams, our goals? Is it ever possible to be driven by something other than our desires, our dreams and our goals?
I think there is something else that should somehow guide us in our everyday decisions: compassion. Understanding. Empathy. Being aware of what is around us, of who is around us, should be part of our priorities, as well as pursuing our dreams and desires. Because we can pursue all the dreams and goals we want, but it is necessary to bear in mind that there's always a price to pay. If we follow our desires blindly, regardless of what is around us, most likely we'll end up hurting someone in the process. I follow my "appetites", my goal(s), and I deliberately ignore every obstacle on the way, whether it is an unpleasant situation or a person who stands between me and the realization of my dream. It is possible to avoid this potential manslaughter by keeping in mind the consequences of our actions, thus asking ourselves: "I want to do such and such, but how should I go about it?" The conditional tense somehow leaves an opening for doubt, for questioning ourselves, to recognize the existence of possible consequences that necessarily follow our actions.
Each one of our actions has a repercussion on people around us, whether big or small. It is within the realm of our capabilities not to hurt those people while we pursue our goals. It is a form of respect, the act of considering other people's feelings, and to acknowledge that, if we want to rush toward our goal, and if we want to embrace the (not necessarily bad) individualistic persona, at least we are the only ones suffering the consequences of our actions.
I am not saying that this is easy, or that this is the only way to go about things. It is extremely hard to consider each and every possible implication of our utterances and our actions. It is energy-consuming to pay attention to all the people around us, to be aware of their feelings so as not to hurt them (we'll talk about lies some other time).
Probably this is the truest form of freedom: to be able to say, in the end, that I got to a certain point (or at least close to it) but without leaving casualties on my path. Personally, it would be my most cherished achievement.

Everything has a beginning...

This started as a project for a class, but as it always happens with fun things, you end up getting hooked - enjoying even the smallest and (apparently) insignificant random things of life. So why not? Living alone leaves me with way too much silence, a silence that even music sometimes cannot fill. So I start thinking... and why not share thoughts with you, out there? If this helps people to get to know me better, so be it. If not, I guess I can humbly propose a different point of view on life (oh no, I don't pretend to have The Answer...).
Gaia is the Goddess Mother of Earth, the Earth where we live and where we try to find the meaning to what we do. The Earth where I count my friends, from the US to Indonesia, from Europe to Africa, crossing hemispheres and time zones. Such a blessing.

Gaia, the beautiful, rose up,
Broad blossomed, she that is the steadfast base
Of all things. And fair Gaia first bore
The starry Heaven, equal to herself,
To cover her on all sides and to be
A home forever for the blessed Gods.
(Hesiod)

Welcome to you, reader, enjoy the ride. You are embarking with me on a quest: discover the method to my (very personal) madness...