A Fall love letter

I love having shorter days.

I love cups of tea.

I love new seasons of tv shows waiting just around the corner.

So why on Earth is this bloody fall going so wrong??

Smells like fall and clouds are here allright but still feels like crap.

I'll leave aside all the crap that has been going on lately and my persona, subjective, considerations and just say this: What The Fuck?

It's too hot to breath but not sunny (or safe) enough to go to the beach, all the mosquitos that hadn't shown up the whole summer are coming by for some terrible convention on my skin and old people are back in their speedos.

This is very very VERY wrong people. 

An intervention is needed.

The truth about August

This is the sound of my soul... And she' not happy.

90% of regular people, at least here in Italy, spend the whole year waiting for these 31 days: the holy month of August.

It's holiday season, it's summer, it's empty cities and bikinis, it's sunshine and midnight dips in the sea, it's big drinks and small tents.

It's a pain in the ass.

If you have to chose a month to go visit a large city this is the right time, that would be a clever choice as none of its inhabitants and their cars will be there.

But please, please, don't come to the coast.

I love June, July and September campers and I can even tollerate those psychos that come by in May, but oh (oh) those August morons.

Well, I should say firstly that not all are moron. Just the thin 95% of them are.

People that go on holiday on August are those who work usually corporate jobs or in factories so they spend the whole year under someone else: not low enough to be humble and not high enough to afford manners. Just regular dicks.

They live taking orders and silently executing them. They go to bed every night saying to themselves "one of these days..." and never actually stand up for their rights.

They call their working place "my company" "my agency" as if by using an incorrect possesive they can gain a bit of their bosses' wealth or rank.

When they go on holiday they finnaly find someone that, they think, is underneath them: the emplyees of their resort/bar/restaurant/hotel/whore-house or wherever else they decide to go.

But, you see, not 1€ of your money is worth dignity: not mine that you are trying to rip into pieces nor yours that you obviously forgot at home.

This is why rude people never really upset me: the pump my ego showing me what I'm not.

The truth about August is really simple: it sucks, so if you can avvoid it.

It's too hot and crowded shores, long lines and high prices, it's traffic and no AC, it's hot tempers and dead cold brains, black-outs and cold showers.

An open letter to a random costumer

Dear you,

You know who you are. You are all of those people that crossed mine and other people professional lives. 

See? You know I am talking to you!

I simply love the way you come by everymoring smelling like there's no tomorrow, like you paked so fast your 30kilos trolley (that I personally had the pleasure to lift over my shoulder) that there just was no time to fatch a toothbrush and the nearest supermarket is meters and meters away...

I like coming into work smelling you around the corner only a few half hours before opening time, don't you give my personal care a moral slap in the face!

You are always so thoughtful and give me reasons to master the art of pondering posing the best questions ever! 

Why are there clouds in the sky? What do I mean by "rental"? Am I sure I read that correctly? Are there spiders around that area?

You have so many of these!

And you are cute too when you ask not to pay for something because, I mean, obviously, it's YOU!

How great are you when you come by right after I am done closing the office to ask me how does some service, which you are not planning to buy, works?

You make me wish I was better, you make me wish I was healthier (no worries, I'm sure this brand new gastritis is from the terrible food our restaurant is serving you) but mainly you make me wish I was wealthier so I could return the favour and come visit you in your work place.

I'm sure you processing company is open 24/7! I'd like to know about all of the accounts your bank has to offer with a prospect on a 10 years plan from all of them, would you mind? And could you please send someone to take a look at a dot I think I've seen, maybe you can come, afterall you are an eye doctor.

Most most most of all you make me wish everyday was my last day on the job so I could give you not only the answers you need but also those you deserve.

Keep saving your goodmornings for people at your level, the working class isn't worthy of them.

P.s.

It would have been too easy to write about all of those great persons that I meet everyday, but we all know that only complainers write on Tripadvisor, so I've followed their lead...

The sound of creepiness

Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk to you again because a vision softly creeping left its disgusting slimy presence while I was drinking.

I said before, I think, that I am all for bald guys so just imagine how thrilled I was having a nice, age appropriate, blue eyes, tatooed one hitting on me at the bar the other night.

Usually I disapprove of pick ups in bars but, hey I'm 30 and who are you to judge my dispare! 

So I kind of let him talk and have some of his drink and the usual PG13 flirting routine but, as I still have some, very little but some, self respect I just couldn't go on as I saw where it was going and that ended with me declaring that the true reason why I was still single is my bad bad character.

Also, let us all remember this is my work place and some decorum is in order.

But, man, he is so cute!

Oh, yes, I forgot to. Ention he was pissing drunk, he touched my ass and he went on to screw the next girl that came by.

So, once again it was just my luck.

I lost my chance at drunk sex (and we all know how well that goes) and perhaps some nice and vintage venereal diseases... 

Ask me why in 2014 the first world is still battling AIDS!

People talking without speaking, people having sex without using condoms...

Mad mad world

All around me are familiar faces

Worn out places

Worn out faces

Bright and early for their daily races

Going nowhere

Going nowhere...

I sincerely hope you all got the 1982 classic Tears for Fear refference...

If you haven't, well, shame on you!

All this brings us to our topic today: old days coming back to stare at us in the face.

I went to a newrby town the other evening with my family and some friends of theirs as my mom's birthday just happened to be on the same day there was some kind of local fair there and we killed two birds with one stone.

In small realities like ours most kids have to move around for school, sports, to see friends, to party... You know, the usual teenage stuff.

So that was the way I went through my youth, having fun and talking to basically anyone who'd come around.

I went to this fair I looked around and I saw so many of those former "familiar faces" walking by and I realized I didn't know them anymore.

None said hello and none felt like any hello should be said.

Strange, uh?

Dynamics of social life

How do you like big butts?

Let's face it: Sir Mix-A-Lot had it right, we all like big butts and we can not lie.

Society might sell you all these skinny, muscles, androgyn figures but when a guys walks in with a round thing in your face you'll have to stare.

Don't you? 

I don't mean big big fat butts, but something has to fill those pants.

I see girls with nice butts bringing them around proudly, I believe guys should do the same.

We need more short shorts and nice fitting jeans.

Eat more, smoke less, pedal more, sit less.

And these was just another maniac Tuesday.

Occasional partners... in crime

We all have that one person that we will always run to in time of neeed: his/her time of need, not yours!

 Just to be clear.

I have this one... What should I call him... Let's say friend for lack of a better word... He used to be my best friend geowing up, we were together almost everyday, set a field on fire together, sealed his cousin in a concrete pipe that we found on the street, stole that think that is used to pavement streets... that black thing they pour from those trucks... Tar or tur or something...

Anyhow, we had our good share of adventures and fellonies together (oh yes, we got his baby sister attacked by bees as well... Man, she was in bad shape after that... Sorry!) and it was that kind of friendship that only small children can build: sincere, loyal, deep and sometimes very dangerous. 

The older we got the harder it became to spend time together and we had less and less things in common but I (even if I hoped that was a "we") still considered him my best friend, I could really see me getting married with him as my best man, how silly.

We didn't speak much and after a while it was just a "Hello" and a few jokes every now and then when we met by chance but one day he kicked himself out of his parents house in the worst possible way and fate wanted we  ran into eachother that same day or a few after (I can't honestly recall) and he asked me to go by his new place to check it out, see how he was settling and help him installing the new gas tank (I told you it was dangerous sometimes) so I did.

All this story just to say that now we are 30, he has a kid, I have a cat, we both have grown-up lives (sorta) and we don't talk anymore.

It breaks my heart every time I see him or when someone else tells me something about his child and I can't even see him.

The person I always thought would be an uncle to my kids (read "cats") now won't even say hello to me.

I am sure you are asking yourselves "Why? What happened?", as you should, so please if you find an answer to those questions just let me know because I have no idea.

It's not like I didn't know that friendships might end, but never knew one like ours could.

Silly me, again.

This post is quite depressing but I wrote it because his face keeps popping up in my "friends suggestions" on Facebook (oh yes, he unfriended me on Facebook too) and I really needed to see down in writing to understand how stupid I am to get hurt every time this happens.

A tip for life, my children: only a few things are forever, some are long-lasting and many just momentary but you will never know which is which before its expiration date.

Ode to a random guy at the bar

Your pants were right,
They were short and tight.
Your face was ok,
Not too bad I maight say.
But, man, when you started talking,
I wished I spent my free day working.
You say every employer in the world would be lucky to have you
Because you are great and your ideas are brand new.
You say every nation is trying to make you their own
For the amazing qualities you have shown.
But if China makes an offer
They will surely have to suffer:
Their money is no good,
Their people put you in a bad mood.
I am amazed how people are still listening,
I wish I could walk up to you and start kicking.
I'd love to see how many employers would line up
To hire the biggest jerk with his balls in a cup! 

Am I a rock? Am I an island?

It is no secret that a person that calls her own blog "A fat blog" has some issues... 

Mainly with food and surely with her methabolism, but never the less there are issues.

I guess this quote pretty much says it all: the aloness, the out-of-placeness ( the making up wordsness), the little sense and meaning it all has sometimes.

But I am not sucidal or anything, so it's not that kind of feeling, and you can hardly say I am anti-social if you know me so it is not the lack of people around that leaves the empty spot...

Don't even try to lecture me about being now 30 and feeling the need for companionship, because we all know that is a totaly different issue (one that I have, do not worry, but that I am not going to adress in this post).

It is more like speaking a different language than everybody else, it's having a mind with a speed of its own that takes you away at the wrong times and fails you constantly;

it's being different in a way that you don't even know and that nobody can see.

I have been fortunate in many many ways in this life: I have family, I have more real friends that the adverage human being can count, I really do.

I have cats, dogs, nephews and nieces, roommates, Easter eggs, new shoes, parties, poetry (to protect me), a job and everything else you want to put in this.

Name it and I assure you that if I have ever cared for it I have it.

Am I happy? Not that I know.

Would I know if I was? I don't know that either.

Why is this feeling of misunderstanding always pending over my head?

Is there a planet where I should go back to?

When I identify with the Creature (oh yes, he is not called Frankenstein: that would be his creator) it's because I too feel like I can't hear nor see anybody like me out here.

Am I really just very self centred? Well I guess we all are... I guess we all see just our own problems and live only what is in our heads, don't we?

The only thing that I can say for myself is that it's like being two different persons that complete and yet contrast each other: one is the outside person that lives my everyday life, the other is the one that only exists in my head and keeps up the blues.

Perhaps a shrink would be a better audience for all this...

On second chances...

We mostly her about second chances in movies, books, other people's lives...

Don't get much of those in our own life, at least I know I don't.

But I often wonder: would be really ready for them? Are we ready to take a different path, to make a new choice, to try something rlse for a change?

I mean, if you wonder back to all of your missed chances I bet that you will notice that they are pretty much all similar... 

All about the one that got away, about those trips you should have taken, those job offers you turned down, things you should have applied for... And so on and on and on...

Well, my dears, let me tell you that you are not ready.

If you would have been you would have done something about it already: second chances do not just happen, you have to make them happen.

I shall give you a practical example of what I mean, take from my very own life experience, which I now realize is not much to speak of.

Anyhow...

I'll tell you the story of a guy that I used to like when I was a freshman in college, it's a very short and only slightly pathetic story compared to others of mine so don't be affraid:

So, as you have already guessed, there was this one guy, a little (much) older related to one of my flat  mates so he came by for a few days to visit and we got very much along; 

He was (I suppose he still is) cute, very funny, clever, interesting, very tall with a nice job... 

In short he was the whole package.

To make a long story short once we were talking once, about music if I'm not mistaking, and he tried to kiss me. I really liked him. Really. That's why I pulled away so fast I banged my head against the wall.

He came back to visit once again after that and my flat mate had already moved out to a place nearby so he called me up to see me.

Tah dah! A second chance right there!

And that's the story of how a guy tried to kiss me twice and I banged my head against the wall TWICE.

Yet, I don't think I've learned my lesson.

I hope you do!

It's all about graduation

Today is one of those days that you'd think you'll remember for the rest of your life...

At least you should.

I'm here at my former school in Nakhon Nayok and it's graduation day, a day that marks the end of the "stay at home and depend on your parents for meals" era.

But that's pretty much all I remember about my graduation day...

I remember being there and being questioned, but I can't honestly remember how I felt or what most of the questions were about or who came before and after me.

I don't remember going home or what I did after, I remember studying the days before but that might be a memory or just a known fact.

I suppose this works differently for different people, I believe some retain the memory of this day and hold on to it like one of the best days of their lives.

I guess for me it was just another day... A stressful one but apparntly not even that hard to go through.

Maybe it's because back home we don't have a cerimony or anything like that: you go there, do your exam, go home. 

Nothing special, nothing to report, nothing to remember...