I haven’t been this zen in ages. I am almost tempted to say that when I’ll look back on my life this is the period I’ll miss the most: not high school, not university, definitely not the MA, but this: 25, feeling as free as a bird, doing exactly what I want, traveling wherever I want, having just as much money as I need, trying and sometimes succeeding to conquer my anxiety, my depressive moods, my dictatorial gestures…

What I find mind-blowing is that now, right this moment, I don’t have any regrets, none whatsoever.

Let the future come, I’m ready for it.

Home is… home Mum took these two days off so we can spend more time together. We’re making shopping list and cooking lists and I hope I won’t put on weight while I’m here I haven’t met anyone yet (been too busy dying my hair orange, or close to orange, and shopping for a coat – still looking for one) but tomorrow (well, today) is going to be the day. If it doesn’t rain, I’ll consider tomorrow a perfect day.

I’m not a big fan of Easter but it’s cool that I get to see my family and re-bond with them. I’m not very good with keeping in touch – although I miss some of them, I never call – but sometimes I feel the urge to see them, to talk to them. It’s good to know that there are some people that are there for me no matter how rarely we see each other and no matter how different we are.

The blog has had a couple of rough days. I’m not sure exactly what kind of virus or bug it was infected with, but E. assured me that now it is safe. Too bad that I had to give up my other theme I liked it a lot, although it was a biiiit too crowded. This one is just a draft, it’s far too simple for my taste, but better this than nothing, right? E. will work on a new theme for me when he has time and I’m going to nag him to design something more like me.

Well, I’d better go to bed now. I don’t want to be tired tomorrow, the glorious day.

*Massive Attack – Saturday Come Slow

Up until now I’ve had a great time home. Tiring but great. I don’t feel that I’ve missed much by not keeping in touch with many people. Yes, I miss some of my classmates but I’m not as sociable as I used to be, I’m not that open. I hate it when people don’t mix, when there are awkward pauses in the conversation and I feel good only with people I’ve know for years and whom I can rely on. The night I went out with Steve and M. was fantastic from my point of view. We had something to drink, the conversation was great and I felt that we were going to meet for many more years to come. I think one of my resolutions will be to let go of people who don’t mean that much to me and stick to the ones who deserve it. There are things I can get over and there are things that are a deal breaker. And for my peace of mind I’m not going to accept any deal breakers.

Spending time with my extended family was okish except that the kids become tiring the third morning and at one point the grown-ups surrounded me with stupid questions: ‘When are you getting married?’ ‘Why hasn’t he joined you here?’ ‘Are you still with him?’ ‘Do you still have feelings for him?’ etc. etc. etc. I know that they always do that and I know that I can’t stop them (that much I’ve learned by going to therapy) but sometimes I wish I could put them on mute and explain that I never ask them about their personal business and that I hate it when they’re trying to be funny by asking me such idiotic questions but I’m pretty sure that next time they would ask the same questions all over again. So I just took a deep breath, told them I’m not getting married and changed the subject. But it bothers me that they still don’t know me/understand me and that they think that I’ll change my mind and do what’s expected of me.

I can’t believe I’m the oldest one among my cousins and other relatives! That I’m an aunt who brings them presents for Christmas and who has a fancy phone and who got a cool haircut and colours her hair! I remember vividly the times when I looked up to my cousins and now it’s scary that there are others who look up to me. Even tough we are so different we are still bound together by this thing called ‘family’. This concept still puzzles me and 50% of time I want to be as far as possible from it (family) and the other half I’d give anything to be closer… I can only hope that one day I’ll know what I actually want.

*Bon Iver – Blood Bank

This is my third day in Baia Mare and I still can’t sleep properly. I used to love the bed here and whenever I got home I just put my head on the pillow and I was asleep. And now I toss and turn and nothing. Not even the two duvets and the overheated room don’t make things easier for me.

But it’s good to be back home, I have to admit that. I have already met some of my dear friends from here and I still have many more to meet. I haven’t had time for myself but I managed to have my hair cut (yes, A., now you won’t have to see the ugly cut from the back of my head anymore ), buy some winter shoes and spend quality time with Mum. Oh, it’s soooo good to eat cooked food again! I’m sick and tired of falafel and pizza! At the top of my list with resolution I should put ‘cook more’. But who actually keeps track of those silly resolutions? I think they sound nice, they give you the impression that the year that’s just starting is going to be different, better and then you end up doing the same stupid things all over again.

I’m eating tangerines like there’s no tomorrow. I envy that my father has a green thumb. Yeah, their apartment gets more sunlight than ours, but still… They have so many plants and flowers and so few casualties. All the plants that I buy wither either because I water them too much or too less or because they don’t have enough light. I want to bright up the place and I can’t. I such a loser in so many ways…

This snow is such a bitch! When I woke up there was a thin layer of snow everywhere and it was snowing beautifully with big fat flakes and now it’s gone I really can’t picture Christmas without it and the city looks so sad and muddy and ugly. But there are still some days left and I still have hope.

I want to go back to bed and read all day but I don’t know if I have the patience to do that. I’m really mad at myself for not reading as much as I used to. I have to change that but how? Reading is something so personal, so mood-dependent. I can’t force myself to read if I’m not in the right mood and because I have other activities in the evenings I don’t have much time to read. It’s a horrible vicious circle!

*DeYarmond Edison - As long as I can go

The only problem is my laziness and the fact that I don’t know anyone there. I talked to some people and we helped each other but it’s still not the same as going there with a friend or with someone you know. I’ve realised that I hate being alone, apart, outside. The people there all know one another, they all help each other out, they’re like one big family. I don’t want to make new friends, I just want to feel less awkward. But I should probably give it more time.

These last weeks all I did was work, work, work and then work some more. Honestly, I’m sick and tired of it, I need a long holiday, which I intent to have for Christmas. I’m less depressed and sad, now I’m simply overworked. I always feel tired in the morning, I hate going to work everyday and I hate the fact that everything is urgent, that everybody wants everything NOW!

But like A., my therapist, said, I am very good at spotting the bad parts. I have to focus my attention on the good ones, so here’s a list with good things which I’m looking forward to:

• going climbing
• snow
• going to Baia Mare
• Christmas
• editing another book
• going to the Radiohead concert in Berlin next July!!!
• writing my dissertation (should be fun)
• my Tuesday therapy sessions
• going to Sibiu at the end of the year (who’s coming out for a beer with us except Béranger and Yuki?)
• meeting friends I haven’t seen in more than a year!
• giving presents

*Radiohead – Climbing up the walls

The book fair is just around the corner and there’s so much work to do! We’re all so tired and I’m daydreaming about Christmas and going home and, like always, doing nothing! My far-away friends will also come this Christmas back home and I can hardly wait to spend hours talking and drinking tea with them. And I’m already thinking about Christmas presents and I have some ideas but not enough and I don’t know if I have enough money for all I want to give. Well, I can be generous at least once a year!

Since I’ve been working with books I’ve started to lose respect for their physical appearance. Not that ugly cover designs don’t make me shudder, but I’m more negligent with their pages: I don’t mind treating books like objects and not like gods. And I read so much at work and then I read some more when I get back home but I don’t want to stop, I just want to go back to read for my own pleasure and venerating books. I used to think that the coolest job ever would be to read books and get paid for that, now I’m having second doubts…

I dont know how you can carry around as much love as I’ve given you – (March 1919)

And so you see, Scott, I’ll never be able to do anything because I’m much too lazy to care whether it’s done or not – and I don’t want to be famous and fêted – all I want is to very young always and very irresponsible and to feel that my life is my own – to live and be happy and die in my own way – to please myself. (Fall 1919)

Was it fun in Paris? Who did you see there and was the Madeleine pink at five o’clock and did the fountains fall with hollow delicacy into the framing of space in the Palace de la Concorde and did the blue creep out from behind the colonades of the rue de Rivoli through the grill of the Tuileries and was the Louvre gray and metallic in the sun and did the trees hang brooding over the cafés and were there lights at night and the click of saucers and the auto horns that play Debussy. I love Paris. How was it? (Summer1930)

Do you still smell of pencils and sometimes of tweed? (Fall 1930)

It’s fun thinking of Christmas and the night you will get home and how you’ll look as you come out the gate. I will be surprised at your mondanity and very amazed that you are concice and powerful and I will be happy that you are so handsome and when I see how handsome you are my stomach will fall with many unpleasant emotions like a cake with too many raisins and I will want to shut you up in a closet like a dress too beautiful to wear. (November 26, 1931)

Dearest – I suppose I will spend the rest of my life torn between the desire to master life and the feeling that it is, au fond, a contemptuous enemy. (Februrary/March 1932)

Happily, happily foreverafterwards – the best we could. (August 1936)

Dearest: I am always grateful for all the royalties you gave me, and I am always loyal to the concepts that held us to-gether so long: the belief that life is tragic, that a mans spiritual reward is the keeping of his faith: that we shouldn’t hurt each other. And I love, always your fine writing, your tolerance and generosity; and all your happy endowments. Nothing could have survived our life. (March 1939)

Dear Scott, Dearest Zela, Bloomsbury, 2003

I put the groceries in the fridge and proceeded to wash the blueberries. When I tried one I was shocked to find it had a core. Wtf? I tried another one: didn’t taste like a blueberry and it still had a core! I was getting angrier and angrier. I called Mum, told her about the core, about how they look like blueberries but they’re not, how that woman lied to my face and sold me something else! She laughed and told me that what I had bought are some cheap good for nothing berries. FUCK!

So I grabbed the bag and stormed out of the house. The anger had now reached its peak, I was literally fuming! I got to the lady who sold me the blueberries and we had a surrealistic talk:

- Hello, can you tell me what berries are these?
- Yes, they are ???berries.
- But I specifically asked you if they were blueberries and you said yes.
- You can make jam out of them or liquor!
- That’s not the point! I wanted blueberries and these are not blueberries!
- No, they’re not.
- Then why did you tell me they were blueberries?
- Have you tasted them? They are good! You can make jam out of them or liquor!
- I WANTED BLUEBERRIES!

In the end she agreed to give me back my money and I gave her back her fucking berries. On the way back I calmed a bit but I still can’t get over the fact that people would do anything for money. Or maybe she was just deranged and thought that I just wanted berries, no matter if they were blue or not… And again, I am so pissed that people think they can fool me. They look at me and probably see a teenager and they think that I don’t have anything to say, that my opinions don’t count, that they can fool me and I won’t do anything against it… I should lock myself inside cause I hate what’s going on outside!