There I go... here I go again... you know.

And today's title is brought you by Sixpence None The Richer. If you didn't know that, well, now you do.

You might be asking "Where did she go again? What is the silly mistake she just repeated?".
Easy: I broke one of my own rules.

Or maybe a few.

I am obviously not going to tell you the exact rule I broke (or the group of rules I broke), because life is just more fun this way and this post is not about you breaking into my private life.

Wait. It is about you breaking into my private life but not by direct quotes.

Better.

Let me change the soundtrack before opening my rulebook to you: Walk of life sounds apropriate.

Now that I am all upbeat (what??) and dance-y I will let you in.

I have lived my life by a certain ammount of rules, some I made for myself, some I picked here and there I can't even remember where; when I'll remember, I'll let you know.

Most rules involve how I should behave with others, some concern my health, some clothing, some music.

FYI: rules will not be listed in order of importance but as I can recall them.

1- Never (ever) wear anything that cuts right under the knee: I'm not 80 not 180cm
2- Don't buy an album because "that song was a summer hit": it's going to be awful
3- Don't drink alcohol when sad: we all know it's going to lead to a Bridget Jones moment with no Colin Firth but plenty of morning after
4- Try (at least try) not to drink alone, any mood you're in: it's a shortcut to liver diseases
5- Never fall for a guy before he falls for you: he might never do
6- Never like a person more than he/she likes you: applies for friends, lovers, crushes, bosses, storeclerks, ...
7- Do to others as you would have them do to you. Even I can't argue this Jesus quote
8- Never mix your whites and reds: neither in the wash nor in your stomach
9- No regrets: well, not really.... But as little regrets as possible
10- Never, for any reason, hold a grudge: they can kill you on your way to death
11- There always are at least 2 ways of saying the same thing, choose wisely
12- Remember that whatever comes out of your mouth can be perceived differently from what you intended by others
13- Every situation has a song that would be perfect for it; it most likely is by Alanis Morissette or Simon and Garfunkel or Robbie Williams
14- Never eat saussages before going to bed. Try.
15- Be careful who you show your true colors to. Let it be someone who knows the song
16- Be smart on cleavage-showing: there's no coming back from some photos
17- Hide a broken heart: nobody wants to see that
18- Never, under no circumnstances, say "yes" when you meant "no"
19- Never eat from someone else's plate: this has both a litteral and figurate meaning. Plate sharing could be gross and you should never EVER take someone else's boyfriend. It isn't fair nor fun nor positive karma
20- Limit lies to white ones. Or fun ones

Uhm... I can't remember the others... I could have sworn there were more...

Anyhow.... Wanna guess the rules I broke just in the past 3 weeks?

On your mark, get set, GO!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4D35vfQ7eZg

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover I'm a child, I'm a mother I'm a sinner, I'm a saint... My life CV

I can understand how you'd be so confused
I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything
All rolled into one....

Ah, music... What an inspiration... There always seems to be a song for every specific mood, for every moment of my (your) life.

Today I needed a key to unleash the post I was cookig in my head for the past few days and Meredith Brooks came to the rescue.

I came to the realization that we should come with instructions, I mean us people.

Well, perhaps not instructions, but a CV wouldn't hurt.

Leave alone babies, because they are like one of those surprise gift bags you got at gas stations and newspapers' stands back in the 80's... Man, those were awesome... Fantastic and always disappointing at the same time... Bags, not babies. You shouldn't be disappointed at babies.

Anyhow... Off topic as usual...

I think that if we enetered interpersonals relationships like we do with jobs we would live a better life:
"Hi, my name is.... Here is my CV and a cover letter from my best friend and one from my highschool sweetheart"

See? You'd like that, won't you?

So here is my CV, leaving out personal data, because you know me already way too well:

========================================================================

Name: : I can call you Betty, and Betty if you want you can call me Al (yeah, I will always quote a song)

Birthday: Love it! I begin counting down the days 01/01 wishing it was as important for others and someone will finally get me that surprise party with everyone who loves me there but no old people and a fantastic 80's playlist and a karaoke station (hint hint)

Mobile: I never ever answer my phone, I hate phone calls, you shouldn't call me... Whatsapp is a totally different story

Address: I don't believe in houses, the world is my home and I wish you'd understand that

Previous Experiences: Actively only two broken friendships (one is back on track); several heartbreking stories about my heart not being broken and a few heartbreaks (again: two); I'm a fantastic best friend both in the long run and for seasonal jobs.

Main responsibilities: patching up broken hearts, superficial skin wounds, lying to parents and cops (yeah, that happened), offer shelter and tasty dinners, finding new restaurants to try, prevent unsuitable making out sessions, loading washing machines, loading refrigerators with cheap alcohol, saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, taking your side (mostly when you are wrong), singing made up songs to cheer you up

Languages: I can use and abuse 5 different languages, I love them, they are my drug of choice... If I could learn one a day I would. I haven't mastered the art of shutting the hell up in any of them, but I am not really planning to.

Special skills: Uber-professional karaoke performer (singer would have been reductive), always dressed to impress (never said it ahd to be a good impression), fierce goalkeeper (meaning I have no fear to let the ball pass me by), gold medal in sushi eating, amazing tastes in music, I can read a book (it seemed fair in these days and ages to count this as a special skill), I am an amazing cook, decent listener, mean dancer when I'm alone, stupid forgiver and forgetter, awesome with animals and small childern.

Skills acquired through volunteering: I learned not to give a fuck. I learned I will never learn from my mistakes. I keep giving my heart out to undeserving people.

Three strongest qualities: good liquor holder, my ass (deal with it), good liar

Three biggest wicknesses: compulsive liar (is it a wickness? Maybe if I could control it it would be a quality), my ass (we have a conflicting relationship), movies make my cry (really, any movie does, depending on my mood)

About me: I have a slight OCD triggered by buttons; I share the same brain with 4 different personalities: a tomboy, a raging alcoholic, a bookworm and a sarcastic bitch. The latest has the tendency to prevale.

Certificates can be provided if requested.
========================================================================

How is this for a CV?

Would you hire me?
Have you already hired me and are you now thinking about firing me? You didn't expect the ODC, did you?

Let me end as I begun, with an inspiring quote from a song by the masters of music:

There's nothing you can do that can't be done
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy

Nothing you can make that can't be made
No one you can save that can't be saved
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time
It's easy

Drink drank drunk

So I still have a blog... Who knew!

Someone reminded of it this morning (grazie A.) and I said to myself "Woman, you better get busy".

I spent the afternoon thinking about a good topic, enough of this love shit (said she, bitterly), and a message came up to clear everything up: I should write about the real reason I started this blog!

No, no worries, I'm not going to write about my big fat ass. Not today.

I am dedicating this to my very best friend for the past 6 years and good friend for the 9 years before:P'T. !

You (yes, he is my main reader... He's my best friend, remember?) know already I love you and the many reason why I love you, so I will focus on one of our favourite activities.

No no, not being sassy and looking at guys, the other one: drinking!

First things first, we are not alcoholics, but we do like to share a few drinks and that, sadly enough, it's not something I share quite often with people.

To drink and get "happy" I need something very important and that something is the right company.

I don't care about how fun getting drunk is for some, I can cut loose (footloose) only when I feel safe; when I am with someone who will laugh with me, fill up my glass, handle him/herself, not be needy or a outshower, someone who will take me home safly and evaluate the evening with me over food the next day.

You are my person.

Ok, sugary enough, I promise next blogpost will be about the six pack over there (wink wink)...

Bottoms up, people! And drink responsibly... Aka never alone!

That's old, folks!

As some f you might already know, with great powers come great great responsibilities.

Wait... Where did I hear that before? Nevermind...

The great power I have recently discovered within me is the power of aging.

I mean, I knew since I was a kid we all get older and older, second by second, but my recent permanence in a country where the sun shines only if asked to by local authorities (sorry... I lived in a city there) showed me that it was actually happening.

When you are a child you check your height every day or so, because that's how you know you are growing closer to what you think will be dreamland, but that's pretty much the only time when you can get excited about aging. And you don't even know that it is!

Puberty: getting older means akward hair around your body, period, voice changes when you least expect, you have to wear bikini tops, you have to stop peeing at the side of just anything ( please, guys, really: that's when you have to stop peeing around... Just stop... Nobody likes a bragger).

Teenage years: feelings. Lots of feelings. Most of them of saddness and still too complex for you to either understand or put in words that aren't by the greatest band on the planet (don't worry: we all have a psychology major roommate at some point... He/she will have books on that).

And now ADULTHOOD: easy easy easy... White hair are coming.

This brings me to my first encounter with serious white hair.

Of course I had some already in my 20s, but you really had to go looking for them!

Now they bravely stand right above my forhead. Those bastards.

And they are some of the new hair growing after the cure! What the fuck!

I blame it all on pollution and 4 month of lack of clean air and natural light. And stress perhaps. 

And aging, that is definetly one of the causes for my white hair.

And what about those responsibilities?

Now I will have to be a guide to the youths, a lighthouse on their way back to humanity, the light all along the tunnel, the owl of their nights.

And I'll have to start cooking fattening meals for them. 

But when I look around and I see the beauty surrounding me on this amazing planet (hey, it's been putting up with our shit for quite a while, that is pretty amazing) and I think how old it is and how much it has seen and heard and I can't help but think: "Why wouldn't you do for us what is expected from us??" 

Selfish Earth... Dropping hints... Start speaking already!

Love you, you silly!

And that is step 4: now I am senile.

What was I talking about?

On unrequited love

Every single one of us has fallen, if not many times like myself, at least once in love with someone who didn’t reciprocate or (yes, sadly enough) with someone who never knew.

It isn’t anyone’s prerogative nor my exclusive, we have all had that experience. And if you are shaking your head and thinking you didn’t well… you are a big fat liar.

It might have been that guy a few years ahead of you in school, your best friend’s band mate, your friend’s drinking buddy, your teacher, your neighbour… You see where I’m going with this, right?
But how do we stop it? How can we prevent ourselves from falling for who hasn’t fallen for us…
We can’t.

We are bound to repeat ourselves over and over until we find someone who would break the circle…
He (or she depending on what’s your fancy) has to be patient and be really really really really into you, because nobody else would bother to stick around.

I will give you the piece of advice I have been given by those around me who love me: give up.

Or, better, give IN.

Stop trying to analyse it, don’t compare yourself, don’t wait around for the next person to be with him/her just to be able to justify your actions with yourself ( “See? It wasn’t meant to be… He found someone else and she deserves him more”).
And if “being yourself” is what led you here, go be someone new.


Now… How do I follow my own advice? Any advices?



"But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! Yes, you are looking at one such individual. And I have willingly loved that man for over three miserable years! The absolute worst years of my life! The worst Christmas', the worst Birthday's, New Years Eve's brought in by tears and valium. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life. All because I've been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh god, just the sight of him! Heart pounding! Throat thickening! Absolutely can't swallow! All the usual symptoms. I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you." (The Holiday)

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.