Happy Hollidays

So this year is coming to an end. Even though I really don't like winter, too cold for me, I love this time of the year. I'm a Christian, I dare to say (others could argue that), so these days before Christmas and after, they are magic and blessed (here we go again, magic and blessed aren't two words a Christian would be expected to use in a sentence). I love being home with my family, decorating my flat and the Xmas tree. I feel a little sad, but just a little, when decorating the tree, because I remember my childhood, when my father used to do it. Well, all of us did it, but he'd go to the market and come home with the most beautiful tree. The whole house smelled so nice, fresh, and he'd put it up, and all the lights on it. Then it was our turn, to decorate it, with decorations hand made by my mom... Now he's gone, and it's been a long time since, but I still miss him, especially this time of the year. But let's not dwell in the past. This entry is to wish you Happy Hollidays. Have a very beautiful and peaceful (or eventful if you wish) end of 2009. And let's hope next year will be much better than this one.

Bless you all, Christian or not, may your life be happy and full!

Crys

Life Without Maurice and A Virtual Fortune Cookie

For almost a week, I had to live without my computer. It needed some repairs and the problem was pretty serious. I had no choice but to call the doctor, so the doc came and took my Maurice - yes, it's name is Maurice! if guys name their cars, I can name my computer, right? - I expected life to be a little... different, but not lile this! I realized  in this time that I was addicted to Maurice. And still am, obviously! That is not a very comforting thought! I guess I'm in recovery: I admit I have a problem. The funny thing is, I don't want to solve this problem! LOL! Am I in trouble? OK, you don't have to answer that question. Oh, and Maurice comes from officer Maurice Boscorelli, remember Third Watch?
The second part of this entry is about a virtual fortune cookie and the "coincidence" that fit that cookie. Some two weeks ago, on Facebook, I opened a virtual fortune cookie. It said: You will witness an odd ceremony.   And I did. The ceremony was the military funerals of our beloved Romanian actor, Gheorghe Dinica. It was odd in the sense that I don't get to see something like that often. And I can't think of a more worthy man and life to receive such an honor.

If you read this and you don't know who I'm talking about, check this page on  Imdb . He had an extraordinary life.
I admired him and loved him ever since I was a child. He was so gifted, he knew that, and lived his life for us, the public. What I want to say is that although he knew he was very good, he didn't act like he was better than the rest. I'm not talking about modesty here, I think it's rather dignity. I don't know how to express this better...he knew he was brilliant, he accepted the praise from both the public and the critics, but he did it so naturally, the kind of behaviour you only get to see in very few people. I'm not saying he was humbled by it, because that wasn't the case. He was not! Can you imagine knowing your own value, being totally aware of how people see you, and still to not have a shred of pride in your soul? That's how he was! I will always remember him and keep a little place in my heart for him. Thank you, Maestro, for living your life for us! We'll se you again some time, when our turn comes. :)

Night of the ghosts

These days I've been asked if there was a holyday like Halloween in Romania. The truth is, not really. But we have something similar, at least when it comes to it being the night of the ghosts.
It is a month later than Halloween, 29 to 30 of November. And there's no candy or trick or treat involved, sorry! In our tradition, this is a terrifying night. The souls of the dead and some of the souls of the living wonder in the dark. They have this big gatherings at the crossroads, on the villages boundaries, glades and other unholy places.
These souls belong to the dead, they leave their graves for this night. But there are also souls of some of the living people, called "strigoi". Their souls leave their bodies while they are sleeping, to go and meet the souls of the dead. They have long fights, even duels, using beaters, scythes or other tools they steal from people's households.
They say that the souls of the living, after leaving the bodies, transform into a wolf, a snake, frog or some other animal. The souls of the dead-ghosts, spooks- whatever you want to call them, can be violent towards people if they don't protect themselves. When the ghosts have nobody to fight with, they go to the homes of the living people, try to get in through windows, doors or chimneys, and drink the blood of the sleeping families. That is why this night people eat garlic, they rub it on their body, on the chest, back, forehead and at the joints, to prevent the ghosts from drinking their blood. They place garlic on the windows, doors and at the chimneys.
They also say that there are ghosts that have no desire to destroy or hurt people. They just gather in woods and glades and dance in circles all night long, untill the roosters sing. That is actually the time when all spooks, souls of the dead or the living, go back where they left from: in the graves and in the bodies of unsuspecting sleeping men and women.

So there you have it: wanted to be spooked? Believe in Romanian old folklore! :D Most of us don't believe that obviously, but in the countryside there are still some people to keep the tradition, especially the older people. And I guess this is where Bram Stocker found his inspiration to create the well known mith of Dracula. Poor Vlad Tepes! :D He is the real figure behind the mith and he was not a vampire, as you might imagine, but he was a rather bloody ruler. Not something unusual in those times.
This is it for this time.
Crys

Little girls, fairy doors and magical dreams

Yesterday was a special day for me, not because of some celebration or appointment, but because of a really nice coincidence. I went to the market, as I usually do. I was checking some potatoes, when a little girl next to me started to shout:
"Mamaie, mamaie, uite, Tilincutza!"
that is: "Grannie, grannie, look, Tinkerbell!"
Her grandmother picked her up:
"What, sweetie, where?"
"Look, look!"
She was really excited and holy moly, I realized she was pointing at me! Her grandmother came closer and I did the same. She reached for my earrings and started to examine them, pulling my ears and saying:
- I like your magical earrings, Tinkerbell! They're very beautiful, and your pink wings with glitter!
At this pont I was laughing, so was her grandmother and a few people around us.
- So you like my earrings - I say.
- Yes!
- Do you want your own magical earrings?
- Yes, yes!
- Allright then, when you go back home, you'll find your own magical earrings there.
- Really?
- Yes.
She was happy and she was clapping her little hands. :) Her grandmother put her back down and I whispered to her where she could buy earrings like mine.
This is the first part of the coincidence. Back home, while on Twitter, Christopher Gorham posted this tweet, a fairy door for his boys, made so that he could bring back home for them a little bit of Ann Arbor. Seeing that, I remembered the little girl again and it made me smile. She made me feel good all day. Wow, how could a child think I was Tink? Haha! I was flattered. And last night, well, my mind combined the little girl plus Chris' fairy door and that's what I've dreamed: a magical dream, with kids, pink wings, glitter, butterflies, and even Peter. But I couldn't see his face, he had the cutest mask on.

In the morning I wanted to go back to sleep again. A little girl+a man and his fairy door+a crazy dream made me feel like child again. And it was so beautiful :))

Just Dolls??

These dolls-I've had them since I was 6. Recently, I've noticed they needed a bath :-) While I was doing that, I couldn't stop thinking about the reasons I kept them all this time.
The blonde one has a sad story. It was a gift from a grieving mother. The doll is named Nicoleta. It belonged to a little girl, age 5. She was in the hospital at the same time I was. Both of us needed heart surgery. I survived(obviously), but Andreea, the little girl, didn't make it. I don't remember much, I was so young, but my mom told me Andreea's mother came to us with tears in her eyes and gave me the doll. She said I should have it, so that I could remember her daughter, and may be the doll would bring me joy just as it did for Andreea.
The second doll, named Sanziana, was another gift, around the same time. One of my cousins had one like that, and I liked it very much. My aunt promised that if I was to be a good girl at the hospital, she'd give me one as a present. When everything was over and we came back home, my aunt, uncle and cousins payd us a visit. They brought me a big cardboard box. Inside it, I discovered Sanziana.
I think I kept them because they remind me that I could have been dead, but I'm not! They remind me that I'm a survivor, more, they remind me I'M A FIGHTER! I think I'll never get rid of them, because I need something to remember who I defeated. I defeated death! Every time I look at Nicoleta and Sanziana, I remember that, and I remember Andreea...
I wonder what other items exist out in the world, to remind people of their small or great victories. What's yours?
P.S. It took me forever to comb Sanziana's freacking hair!! Only a doll can have that much hair! Haha!

Gift

I wonder: can someone lose their gift from lack of exercise? Because sometimes I'm afraid that is what happened to me. As a child, I used to draw all the time, it was like breathing to me. I couldn't live a single day without drawing something. Than in high-school, an art high-school, there was too much drawing. My school day started at 8 a.m. and ended at 8 p.m. most of the times. There were regular classes, than studio hours: drawing, painting, sculpting. At the end of my four years in high-school, I was tired and completely fed up. I abandoned my calling. I gave up on my gift.
Years have passed...now I find myself wanting to draw, beginning something and not liking the rezult. I feel somehow betrayed by my gift, even though I know I'm entirely to blame. I know I lost my touch, and I have to work on it again, but sometimes I fear. I'm thinking I was punished for abandoning my gift by taking it away from me...by who? I don't know, God, nature... I so hope that's not true, and that is only a stupid fear. I'm planning to get it back and start exercising, drawing, even if I will not like what I get. My friends and my family keep telling me it is still there, that they wouldn't be able to do what I do, draw like me, not in a million years.
I pray they are right, and my gift is still there. Wish me luck!

Killer Healthy Pill

Today I almost died because of a herbal suplement. It sounds so stupid, I know, but that is what happened! You expect this kind of things to be only good for you, not to almost kill you. I have to say I find that really ironic! A small thing(not so small actually, the damn thing is huge) like a pill made entirely from healthy herbs to be so dangerous as to kill. While I was gasping for air, trying to get some oxygen, I was thinking: "Oh God, this can't be happening! I survived two major surgeries in my life, it's not fair to do this to me!". But that was only the first thought, because my survival instinct pushed me to go get help, do something about it! I went to the next room and got my mother. She became more scared than me... She had no idea what had happened! I couln't say a word, I wanted to point her to the phone to call for help, grabbed her hand, but I was probably turning blue! She was scared to death! I don't know how, but eventually I managed to throw the stupid thing out of my throat. Not a moment too soon, I have to say! That was close!