Who's whatching? Tell me who's watching

I'm just an average man, with an average life.
I work from nine to five; hey hell, I pay the price.
All I want is to be left alone in my average home;
But why do I always feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone, and

I always feel like somebody's watching me.
And I have no privacy.
Woh, I always feel like somebody's watching me.
Tell me is it just a dream?

I will admit this time I went a bit overboard with the lyrics,but tellme: how much is too much Rockwell? I knew you didn't know...

This, anyhow, wants to be a post about OVERSHARING.

Yeah, I know, right? Me. Writing about sharing too much. On a blogI use to share just anything with just anyone.

Isn't this ironic? Don't you think? (got you there!)

But, seriously, I am the first one to admit how addicted I am to social networks, binge-reading other people's crap, blogging, twitting, instagramming, #hastagging and all... At least it ain't cocain... Or is it?

One thing I'll say: the line stands where the needle comes in.

Again, loosingtrack of the post...

I just wanted to spend a fewminutes reminiscing about those good old days when you actually had to be cunning to plot revenge, not passive-agressive.

When you had to go out and find someone with a new car to stalk someone, not turn on your phone.

But most of all I miss the days of denial.

Ah, those were the days...

You could pretend people weren't actually loosing weight, he never moved on, you still looked like you did at 18 (or better, NOT), everyone had cats you didn't need to know unless you met them and I could still pretend you didn't say "Hello" because you didn't recognize her/him.

And, BTW, now that we are on topic, how formal have our relationships with our friends' pets become??

It's like, I see your cat/dog/rabbit/bear/dragon on one of these platforms, and you most definitely have seen mine (plus a thousand randos I saw on the streets and where too cute to be real), so we all feel like we should mention them in our conversations, and that part I actually love...

But what when we atually MEET the pet? Should  we introduce ourselves? Has it seen OUR picture before? How does it feel about meeting my pet?

Sometimes I just want to go up to those pets, shake their paw and say "My name is Giulia, I am a great admirer of your work. The way you slept the other day... Just marvelous. I have a cat who sleps as well, perhaps I should introduce the two of you. Thank you. Much obbliged for your time."

But, back on oversharing...

Should we do it? I know (again) that it is addictive, but don't we wantpeople not to know? I mean, there are at least 7 things I read between yesterday and today that I really did NOT want to know.

Sad things happening. Sad things people are doing to me. No spell-check. Ignorance on topics you should shut up about. Hair growing in places...

And I think thelast two were Doc and Grumpy.

Or maybe I'm Grumpy.

They are going to make it all better.

Here we go again

An’ here I go again on my own

Goin’ down the only the only road I’ve ever known,

Like a hobo I was born to walk alone

An’ I’ve made up my mind

I ain’t wasting no more time

Thank our lucky star for music: where would we be without it? But, most of all, where would I get my intros without it??

You might have guessed, at this point, the topic of this post isn’t an upbeat one, one about happiness and the comfort we get from our loved ones.

Well you have guessed wrong. Sort of.

This post wants to be about nostalgia and that feeling you get when you are parted from your loved ones.

Friends… Family… Co-workers… Even pets, why not.

I’ve spent the most part of the last 16 years travelling, studying here and there, working here and there, networking all over the face of Earth (kind of) and I learnt two things from these years:

1)  Looks like planet Earth isn’t flat after all… Who knew! Still not sure about not falling from its edges, though, it could be missing a slice…

2) Sometimes feelings, just any kind of feeling really, are not always mutual.

Obviously, we are not going to discuss the “fact” that the planet may or may not be flat like Adriana Lima’s stomach: it would imply a large amount of sarcasm that I cannot manage right now.

Next time perhaps.

What I mean by feelings not being mutual is something that I had to learn the hard way, with experience and on my skin.

I mean, unmutualness actually passed on this marvellous never-ageing skin of mine, can you believe it?

I clearly am not talking about love in a “girl-meets-boy-life-is-crap” way, enough of that already in just any other post on this blog…

I am talking about mainly friendships. Some family relations would apply as well.

I have always been very (too?) proud of my ability of keeping in touch, of diversifying, of loving unconditionally and of loving like there is not tomorrow; I have been called a friend-whore, but truth is it isn’t as easy to get my friendship as it looks.

I don’t discriminate based on political views, sexual orientations, (sadly) musical orientations, age, education, looks, social status, weirdness and so on, therefore have amongst those I like to call my friends: teachers, students, musicians, people who think there is a God, people who think they are God, fat, skinny, tall, not as tall, vegans, chefs, military, flower children, children of the corn… wait… no… no children of the corn: they scare the living shit out of me.

I like to think of myself like a person with a balanced social diet. At least that one I got right!

But there are restrictions to join this club: no homophobes, no hunters, no people trying to force their beliefs on you, no fans of Tokyo Hotel, no judgemental people, no un-dead, no animal haters, no presumptuous people when they are dumb, trying to avoid killers and party-poopers but they might sneak in, no children of the corn (away, you bastards!).

Mainly my concerns are of the idealistic kind, as you can see.

Moreover, I really do not like those children of the corn.

However, all this just to say that for me friends are freaking important and I just wished I were as important for them.

I write messages, I tag you on Facebook, I call, I tweet (literally, because I’m bloody Snow-White and I befriend birds, not because I actually got a hang of that Twitter mess), I drop by, I pick up, I cook, I remember, I listen, I talk, I sing, I dance, I would paint if I could (but I really can’t) and, most of all, I miss you.

I really do miss you.

I might not write every single day, I might not tell you about my heartbreak (that is what this blog is for) but I promise, I do really miss you.

So, please, one single thing I ask of you, and I am asking for myself and for all of those upbeat, loud, happy-go-lucky, always cheerful, over friendly, slightly embarrassing, madly crazy, inappropriate friends you all have (if you don’t know who this friend is in your life, chances are it’s you), please miss us. Miss me.

Send us a message, write us a mail, tag us on Facebook, drop by, talk, listen and everything else, because we love you.

And we miss you.

And if we don’t say it enough, it’s just because we don’t want to overstep our role of the carefree person in your life, but most of all because we don’t want to bother you.

Guess what: if you are always the one writing the message, it feels like the receiver of that message didn’t really care about getting it.

Might not be so, but feels that way.

Again: just miss us and let us know.

I just need to say goodbye

I was a hot mess
In my Sunday best
Black tears in my eyes

I felt the need to add the three lines above, in case you didn't know this title was taken from the always beautiful Goodbye by Who's fancy.

The rest of the song doesn't apply to the purpose of this post, so let's leave it to that.

The purpose of this post was to say saomething I just couldn't say to his face. Something means many things actually.

I write it here because he'll never find it. I write it in English because, in case he does, he won't bother.

Here goes nothing. Everything. Many things.

  "You left. You really did. You went away and it's been hard. Almost 15 exact days of not seeing you. Almost 1 exact days of me thinking of you and rethinking myself.

I'm not going to lie, they have been weird days, long days, with way more tears and sleepless nights that I care to admit.

I was a mess. I made a mess. I have been called a mess.

But life goes on and so do I. Or so I'm told. 

I just want to tell you that I regret nothing and I am happy I found someone like you to talk to and, you know.

People, those few I dared talk to about the blues of my heart, told me I should have hated you; they said I should blame you for my saddness. But I can't.

I don't think you did anything wrong. I think I wanted something you couldn't give to me and I can't honestly blame you for that.

I don't think you were my true love, my knight in a shiny white armor. I don't need rescueing and I am sorry if I made you feel you should have saved me from myself.

This means to be an apology most of all so here you have it: I am sorry.

I am sorry I was chatty and oversharing, I have the tendency to talk too much when I am nervous.

I am sorry I made you feel like you owed me something, you didn't really.

I am sorry I let you know right away how much I liked you, I couldn't help myself.

With you I couldn't hide myself like I wanted to. You asked me why I wouldn't look into your eyes, here is your answer: I didn't want you to see me. Not all of me at least.

In life I take great pride in not knowing regret and grudges, most of the time at least, and if for the second I will never learn how to hold one, I do have a few regrets in all of this.

I regret not looking into your eyes.

I regret not shutting the hell up.

I regret not asking you to stay with me.

I regret letting the world see how much it hurts.

But for you I only have gratitude and happy memories, so you will never have to fear one word from me nor resentment.

Those good memories will stop hurting one day, I'm not quite certain when, and I will maybe be able to look back with a smile.

I am sorry once again, because I can't keep writing this words that you will never read, as my eyes are filling with tears again and I am sitting at the bar.

I will say one last thing, because one thing you said once still stays with me: I once told you I couldn't understand what you were doing spending your time with me, as you could have had any other girl you wanted (yeah, sorry also for my neverending insecurity) as you are so good-looking and you turned the question around changing the looks with witts, but I don't think you believed my answer.

So, once more, here is my answer: because you are an amazing human being. You are funny, smart, clever, caring but most of all because you are all these things at once.

I will admit that falling for you when you didn't fall for me was a massive, painful mistake, but I will never regret it.

I will never regret you."

There you go... Words, please, get lost in the nothingness of the web.

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?