WHY I DON'T SLEEP OVER AT MUM'S THAT OFTEN

And...after the scary episode of the possessed matress I did spend the night at Mum's. I was happy to see her 'cause I hadn't on the weekend and to see my Ame. But, as soon as we arrived at her's she started dispatching housework. "Claudia, while I finish cooking, you make the lemon ade, America, while we are doing our chores, pick up all your mess, please." Ok, ok, her demands were reasonable, but I can't understand why she can't be anxious to communicate instead of anxious to control and order. Whatever. It turned out Ame hadn't done her Kumon homework, so she turned to me and said, "Ooops, I forgot. Well, I'll just don't tell her." It's funny, we are like sisters. She trusts in me not to tell on her with my mother. Of course I gave her "the look" and told her, "Of course you are going to do your homework as soon as you finish picking up your mess." And she did, quite dutifully.

We started eating. Ame started speaking. She reminded me of myself. I would never finish eating properly 'cause I always preferred chatting. I can imagine my child, an only girl thrusted in an adult world full of tired people not exactly willing to listen to her stories. I listened. I laughed and then I told her as soon as she finished a story. "Now eat something, honey, you still have your homework to finish." And she would eat. My mother just observed us from behind her plate, threatening and fearsome. Haha, we're afarid of my mother. If you stop to think it, it's funny.

She finished her homework and I went with her to the Kumon, which is crossing the street. I chatted with my mother in the living room and when the alarm screamed at me telling me it was time to pick up my babe I left for her.

We were about to cross the street when Ame saw my mother. She had waited more than enough. I mean...!

We went back home and as Ame had no homework due to the last week at school we spent a good evening listening to music in the I-Pod. We listened, danced and sung. Yes, we are like sisters. Suddenly my mother shouted from her bedroom, "Please, stop the music. That's enough!"

She urged us to watch TV. You see, at Mum's home it's forbidden listening to music, watching TV or spending more than half an hour on the internet. And apparently talking in a loud voice too. I am a teacher and Ame is loud by nature. We don't exactly speak in low voices.

Unfortunatedly, Ame chose to watch MTV which meant MORE music. I was happy recognizing some of the music I have been given by Mau and some of my daughter's faves. My mother wasn't. She simply told us, "At 9.00 I'll turn off the TV." And she did --at 9.00pm.-- in the middle of a song Ame had just said she liked. And then my mother asked why Ame was complaining all day long. I answered. "All those rules and lack of flexibility can't make someone feel very happy." And we discussed politics. As I stared raising my voice she demanded silence and quite cunningly told me, "You haven't worked on your thesis, why did you bring your lap top for then, huh?" Oops, low blow. Saved by the bell, in that moment Ame's father came to pick her up. I then started my lap top and working. I went to bed few minutes before midnight.

No doubt, once you live on your own, with your own rules, it's better to deal with your own problems than to sleep over at Mum's.

THE TALE OF THE SCARY MATRESS

Good it's not a tale from the Crypt. Last night I was peacefully sleeping when I suddenly felt someone...or something thrusting my covers with such strength that it turned me on my side. I just couldn't turn, the force was so strong I had to fight it in order to finally thrust myself on the other side. Of course, I immediately turned on the light and nothing was there. Weird thing is my heart was not accelerated, nor my hairs standing on end, nor was I sweating cold in fear. I was not afraid. I was stranged. Years ago I would suffer from panick attacks. Once, already living alone, I told my doctor about them and she explained this kind of fear comes from a lack of sexual intercourse and that it is the body's weird way of announcing it. So, maybe that is why I am not afraid anymore, I tried to give it a reason. I saw the hour --4.35. Sean must be up and working, is something troubling him? Mmm, I decided to concentrate on sleeping precisley because next day we had a date and I wanted to be on time, without dark circles under my eyes. Whatever.

I was dreaming some weird dream sleeping on my belly when suddenly the scene changed and I saw my matress, I felt a wavy motion coming in it and I only thought, "Here we go again!" and this time it stuck me on the matress. I had a hard time trying to separate from it. But I tried to scream, that always works, screaming sort of breaks the spell. I managed to push myself off the matress and triumphantly told it, "Let me go!" Again I woke up and ran to the mobile, it was 5.53. In a few minutes dawn would be officially on. But I hadn't slept well. I went back to sleep. Again no sweat, no heart pounding, no fear, nothing, just a weird feeling of something wrong.

Today morning I chatted with Sean and asked him what was going on at 10.35 and after giving it a thought he answered nothing particular, but that lately he had been concentrating on getting in bed with me. I laughed heartily.

A while ago I went into my room. It's as messy as always. Nothing is whirling around, no lights shine through. Normal.

Anyway, I'm sleeping over at Mum's tonight.

SIN TI....

I was here, checking my e-mail when suddenly the music notes of the classic "Sin ti..." started filtering through my window. A sudden rapt of nostalgia invaded my spirit. I miss you. I was so used to waking up to chat with you on weekends that now that you are no longer here to fill my empty screen I feel lonely. I remember when we would be happy to meet for fifteen minutes on msn now and then during any other week day. Then we established a relationship and a schedule. We became addicted to one another. We would spend hours chatting just about everyday. But the best was the weekends. I would simply jump out of bed to meet with you. My dates with you were taken so seriously...

I miss you. I miss your smile, your blue-rimmed hazel eyes, your big nose pointing upwards while you shout at the kids for silence. I miss your laughter whenever I would start or follow a joke. I miss our time together. I know it's temporary, I know you are woking on making some more time for us. I know you are there thinking about me and missing me, because you find other means to tell me so. But I miss you. Beyond missing you. I lack you. I am divest of your presence. I want you, not only in the sexual mood, but in the dictionary definition:

want vt. 1. to lack 2. to crave 3. to desire 4. to wish to see or aprehend 5. [Chiefly Brit.etc.] to require vi. 1. to have a need or lack 2. to be destitute n. 1. a shortage; lack 2. poverty 3. a craving 4. something needed

I feel destituted of you. I have found that I need you to feel alive, to feel I mean something for someone.

THE KING IS DEAD...

Yesterday I went to teach Fabio and Tatiana. While Tatiana arrived, Fabio received me with the news that Michael Jackson had died. I was shocked. No, he was not my heroe, but he was an ikon, a milestone in my life, as in any other 80s teenager. I came of age listening to his songs. I fell in love with Ben and the poor kid who befriended him. I remembered the whole process of a sweet African-American boy transforming into a weird production of his own madness. His nose jobs, his slow depigmentation, his marriage to Elvis Presley's daughter, his balancing his child from a high balcony in a hotel, his Never Land, his participation in World Aid, his fondness for Diana Ross, his depravation. His was not a normal life, but then again, whose is?

He became the King of Pop and Madonna was his Queen. His songs, from "Ben" to "Heal the World" have been ringing through life. He was not an example to follow, which king has? Dead or alive, fictious or real, kings are human, they take good decisions and fatal ones. I don't excuse Michael Jackson, but I don't encapsule him into one deed. WE're all human, we are bound to commit mistakes.

ZOHAR VISITS BALKAN CENTRE

Last night I was not feeling exactly well. I was particulary sad because I am not Hiro Nakamura and I cannot stop time and I can not teletransport. That is I cannot go to Sean's and he has been behaving weirdly. The phone rang and my super friend Liber asked me if I wanted them to pick me at La Salle: I was so despondent I almost told her no, but she was so jolly, she infected me with it and I accepted after she offered to come to my house and pick me up.

Zohar is the little book my cousin Sara gave me for her birthday. She is a kabbalist and does weird things, or well, not common for the rest of us. This little book is of ancient tradition and it brings light just by possessing it. The book she gave me is to bring protection and healing and therefore I carry it everyday in my purse, along with my keys and my mobile. That's why it went to visit Casa Hilvana for a Balkan night.

It was a good night. Good music. Good dancing. Until the Klezmer group, that is. They were not bad, but people stopped dancing in order to take pics and videos, and the group played for so long I started drifting in my mind towards Seany and his last minute cancellations. I just dropped my good mood and it was impossible to recover.

Zohar stayed downsatirs most of the time. I hope Zohar enjoyed the music. Well, there were no dangers, but I can't say there was healing.

SEEKING REFUGE, FINDING DEATH

I went to teach a class today. Crazy Summer weather freaks me out. It was cloudy all morning, so when I showered and went out I dressed with a sweater. As soon as I got out the sun decided it was a good idea and it also came out. I was melting.

I was about to finish the class when the wind did that thing of turning the weathercock with a cold gush of ...er...wind...and then the rain! Yes. It started raining, just in time to soak me. No, it didn't rain all morning while I was in bed watching "Heroes", it didn't rain while I was in teaching. It is not raining now I'm in my flat writting this. No, it had to rain just when I was about to leave. Cool!

But, as I teach a doctor, we were at the front door of the hospital waiting for the rain to soften a bit, with his assitant, and another lady. The doctor had his car parked in front so he decided to take a quick leap and soon he said good-bye.

We, girls, decided to stay a little longer. I caught glimpse of what I though was a dry bugambilia flower being pushed by the wind very slowly. My companions saw it too and asked what it was. We went to have a closer look.

On the other side of the glass door there was something we couldn't define. "It's a spider!" "No, it looks more like an ...ant? But a huge one!" "NO", said the other lady. "It's a Jerusalem cricket!"

Yes, it was a huge, amber coloured, and ant-looking Jerusalem cricket walking under the door to take shelter from the rain. I was fascinated by its crawling movements, how it instinctively was looking for a dry place, not bothering anyone at all. But the older woman started asking for the cleaner to do something. Another man, quite gentlemanly, came to the rescue, and a bit scared, he struck the insect with a plastic waste basket. Of course it was not enough. The big crawler resisted and moved away, but the small man struck again, and again until a white liquid came out from the creature. Finally it lay there, dead.

What changed? Nothing. We were still in the same condition. The rain was not pouring as heavily, but certainly not because of the sacrifice. I decided to leave. If taking shelter meant I'd soon be dead, I'd rather venture into the rain. Soon after, I heard the assistant's voice inviting me to share her umbrella under the rain.

I don't like creepy-crawlers, but I am certainly against murder.

ENJOYING THE RIDE

Now I'm down, so the only possible next is going up. :)

MISPRONUNCIATION CAN MISLEAD YOU...

"What if you shouldn't end the concert with trumpets or violins, but just like this, a small room, with a lamp, a baby and loads of loneliness...?"

This is what Simon is told by Itsak in "The Band's Visit" (Bikur Ha-Tizmoret) as a reflection on his own life.
This sweet and sour dramatic comedy directed by Eran Kolirin is deeply moving. It makes you laugh in order not to cry. Full of human situations, of loneliness, of desperation, of deprivation, hope still lures arround.
An Egyptian band is invited to perform at Bet Hatikva, but the bus that ought to pick them up at the airport, never arrives. The leader, Tewfiq, determined to carry on with the show, decides to take things in his hands, but sends Khaled, the Casanova, to find out the next bus there. However, Khaled is so charmed by the eyes of the ticket seller that he mispronounces and says Pet Hatikva instead. When the band finds out they are in the wrong place and that they have to spend the night there, they introduce us to a range of characters led by Dina, the beautiful and single restaurant owner who falls immediately for Tewfiq.
A film full of emotions, laughter and stories that mix and open new horizons..or not?
Check the trailer at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fzpJf8Eonyw&feature=related

WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT ?

Reading my daughter's blog I stumbled upon the question, "What's love?" and she ended her text daring to whoever read it to define it. She thinks it's just a marketing invention to sell in February. I thought it sad. Can't be. I know it isn't. So I accpeted her challenge and immediately set out to answer her question. I must confess I had problems. It was not easy. But I remembered two quotes from two films and my present love state and it turned out fine. At least not as commercial.
Quote one: "If he thinks you are the most wonderful being in the world don't let him go."

-Juno

Quote two: "There's a kind of love that makes you feel better about yourself."

-Nights at Rodarthe

About quote one.

Love is acceptance before anything else, of oneself and of the others, particularly of the loved one. Beyond, more than acceptance --because it sounds as you have to put up with-- it is about taking the person as is, because that's the way you like it, no changes needed. When you start looking for what he could change, it may be just attraction to certain point. But it is both ways. You are taken as you are and you take him as he is.

About quote two.

Love makes you feel better, not worse, not stressed, not worried. Love lets you discover how great you are. And of course it lets you discover how great he is.

Warning.

Do not confuse love with dependence, attraction or sexual chemistry. It's all of that plus. Well, not dependence.

FAITH IN FATE

If Macbeth had had faith in the Three Weird Sisters' prediction, his fate would have come anyway without the need to hurry it up, wouldn't it? I don't know, I'm not sure. That's why I'm so desperate for something to tell me to move on, to move forward or to wait. Yesterday I was watching "Heroes", they said, "The future's ahead, the present is just expectation" Yes! Noooooo! I don't want to live the present just waiting, I know I have to wait and to solve many issues before starting the rest of my life, to avoid washing my hands in the future, if you know what I mean, but what can I do now? it's difficult waiting without the constancy, without a certainty, without a presence. That's where faith comes in. Faith is the certainty amid the uncertainty, faith is the strong belief fate will come, faith is what unshakeably makes us -or should make us- believe, accept and be terribly sure things that have to be will be when they have to be. And while waiting, faith makes us continue with our lives happily, in spite of all, come what may, being sure that what will come will be the best, while living each day to the fullest, making of each day the best. It's not easy to meet your fate, that's why you need faith.