a true revelation

I have been struggling with a certain inability to get over someone I should not even be having to "get over." It is a guy who is 10 years younger than I, a total playboy (or f***boy as they call them nowadays), someone who drinks and smokes too much, someone I would have never thought I could fall for. And, I probably didn't, ..... but it feels like it.
And here is what I mean by that.

Let's call this (29-yr-old) boy Tiburon. The Spanish word for shark, which is what they call him out there, as he is known for his womanizing ways. I chose to hang out with T deliberately for these reasons. I didn't want a relationship or anything serious.  In the beginning of last year I had attempted to have one of those and failed miserably, for I was simply still grieving over J, who I lost in 2013.

T was perfect. He was honest, funny, and charming. And he danced with a special kick in his step.
In the summer, I took a break from him, because I noticed that I began to get emotionally involved despite the fact that we were in a completely open arrangement. I'm one of those people who runs away when they feel vulnerable (i.e. develop feelings for someone).
T stayed away but kept reaching out for months asking to get together. I finally gave in on my birthday. I was alone and thought, foolishly, that I could keep it at coffee and would be able to resist him otherwise. From that day on (back in October), he came over almost every single day. It was beautiful. We never fought - because we weren't in a relationship and made no claims over one another. It was nothing but positivity and carefree evenings together, followed by nights in each other's embrace.
There were a few strange elements - for example, Mr. Player who used to come over for nothing but sex in the beginning suddenly didn't want to have any at all for long stretches of time. He also used to kiss much more than he then did when we saw each other daily. But, somehow, our intimacy still grew stronger despite this lack of physical action.

By the end of the year - around Christmas - he had an emotional breakdown. And, I don't mean that in the traditional sense of the word. I mean, this boy, who never let me in emotionally (i.e. we never talked about us ... and especially not about what he was feeling), suddenly opened up to me big time. It could all have been the liquor talking. Or the smoke or whatever. But, what he said, he told me while holding both my hands with tears streaming down his face. He said that I was perfect, that he didn't deserve me, that he can't give me what I want (he may have come to the conclusion that I want a baby - my fault), but that he can't even go with other girls anymore because he feels guilty. Now, if that isn't honesty then I don't understand this world. But, the things he did say to me were later identified as three red flags in identifying a man who is about to run. (I have learned this because I spent weeks watching dating advice videos after we split - trying to [a] understand what just happened and [b] get the F over this pain I felt over the loss of a relationship that wasn't even officially a relationship!

Anyway, so - naturally, the baring of his innermost thoughts suddenly created feelings on my end. Or, should we say, revealed them, for I was not aware that I felt this way, at all. Two days later, my jealousy had become so intense that I told him this isn't working and cut myself out of the equation. Because, here I was, falling for a total player. Danger! Danger! So, I ran because I was afraid of getting hurt down the road. What I did instead, of course, was hurt myself (and maybe him?) prematurely and I totally didn't anticipate how badly it would affect me. How could I be this emotionally touched by someone who barely wanted to sleep with me?

T obeyed my wishes without a fight. A fight, I wish maybe he would have taken up. But, I guess, the lack thereof should be a testament on its own about the true depth of his feelings for me. Maybe he was just not that into me and whatever he said, he said because he wasn't sober.

But - whatever it may be - the separation was an agonizing struggle for me. To make matters worse, he had another chick in like a minute, something he didn't feel the need to be discreet about as he posted picture after picture of her on his social media feeds, which brings me to the conclusion that this may be more than just one of his many alternatingly used girls. I still see them together. Looks like he may actually like this one more than anyone else. Or, maybe he saw what a nice relationship could be when we were together and finally opened himself up to the real thing again. That thought feels better on the ego, so I'll go with that. Alas, it doesn't make the sadness any less intense.

What did take away some of my melancholy and obsession about this (or maybe not, since I am now writing about it) was a nearly spiritual experience I had last Friday. And this is why I am actually here. To document this strange revelation.

So ... this whole past week had been a struggle. More so than usual did I obsess about T, and then, simultaneously, spent time upset with myself that I was still m-f-in' thinking about him. It made NO sense! Why? He clearly had moved on. He clearly was never into me. We clearly had no future (for I have no interest in being with a self-involved player and yet another man who doesn't know he has a substance abuse problem.)
By Friday, after working until 1 a.m., until I literally couldn't look at the computer anymore, I stood there in my office room frustrated that I went right back from work focus to being sad about T. I ordered myself to stop thinking and decided to just relax, listen to music, and smoke (by myself, which is something I never really do but I didn't want to talk any of my friends' ear off  about T for yet another evening). As I sat there, the music's beat synchronizing to my heart, looking out the window, I noticed from the corner of my eye that a picture of my kids had fallen over on the shelf over my desk. I decided to get up and fix it and when I did, I noticed, that it had revealed my copy of the Qu'ran standing on the shelf. It was a copy that my ex-husband had brought into the house more than a decade ago and I had never actually opened it. I was raised Muslim, but I'm just not a religious person anymore. I believe in God (in an abstract way) and even in guardian angels (and that is a whole other story), but I don't really want to have anything to do with organized religion anymore. I believe it has its benefits but, I feel, mostly, it divides people when it should bring everyone together. ... Anyway ... this experience, even though it was religious .. ironically .. did bring all my friends of different beliefs together.. but let me not jump ahead of myself.

So - there it was ... this old, heavy translation of the Qu'ran. "This seems like a message", I thought to myself as I looked at all the other propped pictures on the shelf standing right were they were before. I dismissed it and returned to my futon to sit down. "Yea, but I don't want to read any heavy religious texts right now. ... I don't want to run into anything sexist that's gonna upset me .. I just don't want to ruin my high here." ... S! You listen when you're being spoken to. ... "Yea, but, I have my period anyway, and I'm not supposed to touch the Qu'ran on my period." (Something that I had learned when I was a kid and that kind of stuck. Like the not eating pork thing. Not religious anymore, just ingrained behavior.) ... -- Lame excuse. .. But, anyway, ... in case you haven't noticed ... you may be on your period - BUT - you have not bled ONE drop today all day. ... so, what is your excuse now?
I decided to end my inner soliloquy, for I began to feel guilty, and got back up to retrieve the book from the shelf. I sat down and opened it to a random page, starting to read in the middle of the page, and - I kid you not - this is what it said:

A direct response to my agony over how this didn't make sense but then again, maybe I had really fallen for him?! I was about to completely lose my way when this kinda set me straight.

T is not real love. It is all about self-indulgence. It is all about me, not him.
T managed to bring light into my life and make me forget, for just a moment, that there is a giant void left by J's death. T brought light-heartedness and hope back to me. He wasn't meant to stay and me now finding myself convinced that I must love him because I can't get over him, is a false conclusion.

I shared this passage with a few girlfriends and each one of them was able to relate to it in a different way as it applied to their situation, which made me think about how beautiful (but also dangerous then) it is what one can do with religious texts. Beautiful because it can be so versatile in its interpretation as to fit many different situations in life; dangerous because we all know what people throughout history have done with religious texts (interpreting them to their advantage). Let me not get started on this, because just the thought of this makes me upset. Extremist groups in the Middle East being some of the worst examples for this abuse of a guidance book that is meant to help people live better lives. And all in order to serve their own selfish desires. Ok, must stop now before I start an unrelated rant.

lesson learned: don't ever be a landlord!

things have been happening fast over here...

Last week my brother-in-law called me to tell me that I would have to come in personally for the "final" court-date (in the proceedings of getting my non-paying tenants out of my place). Since I don't have the money to be supporting these dead-beats another 6 months, I decided to get a plane ticket and fly over (to NY). I arrived Wednesday evening and stood in court with my bro-in-law the next morning, while Maia went to kindergarden with her little buddy Lucas (Rosa's son).

The court-date was frustrating as expected and my damn honesty got me - once again - into a bad position. The case was dismissed. The problem was that P (my brother-in-law) started the petition in Dario's name, not realizing that he isn't on that sublease. He also only served the wife (whose husband had apparently moved out), which was another mistake, for he is on the lease and thus must be served. This was only one of many little complications. P (my brother-in-law) was telling me: whatever you do, don't show them the lease. It was just a formality (a mistake in proceedings) but it could cost us the case. And what do I do the moment the judge asks me for the lease? I give it to him. P was scolding me for hours after but what can I do? I can't help it. I am not built that way. You ask me a question and I will tell you the truth.

By now these people owe us 10K and our savings are gone. The woman is about to start Chemotherapy next week. I have no job, she has no job. It is just a bad situation. The court-attorney gave us the price for most terrible and complicated case of the month and told me to get an attorney, which I cannot afford, or to come to an agreement outside of the court system.

So, I made an appointment with Sandra (the wife) to sit together in the evening (together with the husband she is separated from but still lives with). Apparently, Sandra's brother also felt like he had to contribute to the conversation. He really brought me to the boiling point. Apparently, he also lives there now. Has no place to go and I am not sure, whether he has a job.

My apartment has nothing in it, except a big screen TV and my old couch. The kitchen looked like it hadn't been mopped in months, and when I sat there listening to their bullshit I really felt like a big fat "sucka".
Andrew, you have been working all this time, haven't you? I said to the husband.
Yes, he responded.
And your name is on the lease.
Yes.
So why the hell have you not paid me a penny? nothing!!?? I don't understand how you live with yourself, I then said adressing the two men. You are two grown men, older than me, working, and you are living off of me! Me, who I have 2 small kids, only one income which is probably half of what you make.... I just don't get it....have you no self-respect?

I was so pissed and these guys had no answers and apparently no solutions or options. But you know what, I AM NOT AN OPTION EITHER!
I am soooo pissed.aaargh. and to think ..I am sitting here in Rosa's apartment (above my place) and they are screaming to the music that they're blasting as if everything is just dandy...

but OK...they wanna go ghetto on me ..... I have enough ghetto in me to give that right back.
If I am not posting anymore, you know my ghetto self-justice plan of evicting them my own way hasn't worked. ...then you might be able to check me out on bitchingmamainjail.blogspot.com ;)

nah...but seriously....I don't know what to do anymore.... I have no place to go...I am paying for an apartment I don't live in....and I am out of money.....maybe it's time to call in my ghetto friends to play marshall.

heart-stopping saturday

Today I actually wanted to write down how our Pisa and Florence Trip went last week but then Nayla drank some sort of poisonous oil and Maia got lost at one of the biggest markets of the year.

It all started relatively well. I woke up late, although not too smoothly,which always gets me cranky no matter how long I sleep. D took me out of a dream, which seemed to address my current self-reflection attempts. Just as I was about to figure out why I had to crawl through that tiny, stony, dark, and claustrophia-triggering tunnel to get to that huge (ancient) beautiful room (more like a temple-hall), Dario woke me up to get some. And he got some, alright. A piece of my mind, is what he got. "The ONE time the kids decide to leave me alone in the morning so I can sleep a little longer, you really had to decide to take their place and wake me?!?!"
I got breakfast in bed and that shut me up.
After a short heart-attack about Nayla having pulled out all the keys of my laptop's keyboard, I made a huge cup of coffee, which I just didn't get to and then proceeded to get the kids ready for our lunch invitation at my friend Sabi's house.
The meal was great, we had a nice time, decided to move on quickly to all go the big market in our village together. Apparently this is a yearly event and draws people from all over the state and even across the borders (Germany and Switzerland).
Before we left (and Sabi was on a tight schedule) I asked for just one cup of coffee. I had one sip before Nayla (now 2.5 yrs. old) appeared next to me with her mouth wide open and a certain guilty look on her face.
I saw a trace of brown above her lip and decided to smell her mouth. It reeked of some pungent volatile (essential) oil. The stuff you put in a tray over a candle.
I looked around and found a small, half-empty bottle on the floor. When I read the label, I tried not to panic .... which meant not to show it to Dario, who really is the one who always panics about stuff like that.
Keep away from children!
health-hazardous.
can cause lung-damage when ingested.
do not induce vomiting!
contains cassia-oils, which can cause allergic reactions.
etc.
I made her drink water, wiped her mouth with a wet towel, called my father (a doc), who wasn't home; we called Sabi's neighbor then (also a doc), who thank God was home and who finally advised us to call poison control.
I am not used to these kind of worries. Maia stopped taking choking hazards into her mouth when she was two (she understood ....or let's say...she adhered to the rules), and we were glad if she drank or ate anything at all. Nayla on the other hand - a great eater, which we are endlessly happy about - really does try anything, and that means everything. She is one of those kids you don't have to force to drink her medicine (when needed) and who you are going to have to keep the cleaning agents away from, for she will probably try it. The other day she traded a piece of candy for an olive. The girl is special, I tell you. ;)
Anyway, the lady from the poison-control hotline was very helpful and gave me a list of things to watch out for, none of which seemed to appear, thank GOD.
So we continued with our afternoon plans of hitting the market, leaving my full but now cold coffee cup sitting on the kitchen table. (This whole coffee skipping routine today got me to make myself a cup right now. ...probably not the smartest thing, given that it is after 10pm.)

We finally made it to the market around 3:30pm. Our little village looked like Chinatown today. Buzzing with people. We had a good time walking around, mingling, looking at all the stands, letting the girls ride on the kiddie-train and going up with the fire-engine's ladder ..or crane..whatever it is called. It was damn high, I tell you but the kids loved it.
After an hour or so we said Goodbye to Sabi and her family and decided to continue strolling for a last round before heading home up the hill.
Just after D bought his newspaper-rolled funnel full of hot chestnuts, Maia disappeared.
What followed was a search going from casual, to more intense, to near panic at the end.
I called so many people to help find Maia's whereabouts. I had neighbors go on a search around our house to see if she had gone home (by herself). I asked one of the many Djs to call her out missing. I left my number at the icecream parlor at the center of town, in case someone dropped her off (per instructions from the DJ's announcement). I squeezed through the masses, up and down and across, over and over again. I asked vendors to look out for her and to catch her if she walked by. I told Dario to stop calling me, for my battery was blinking low and I was waiting on call backs. He finally left the stroller on the side of the street and joined in the search, with Nayla on his shoulders.
After about an hour of searching without success I started to lose my cool. As I felt the tears well up, I took a deep breath and reminded myself of where I was: This is not a problem. This is freakin' Vorarlberg. Kids get lost and returned here all the time.
But the little paranoid mom in me kept on reminding me that this was still the 21st century and anything can happen anywhere. The likeliness isn't as high here and with this thought I decided to stick. It worked. I didn't lose it.
I walked through the bustling market one more time and then pulled out my phone to call the cops. Just as I was going to ask someone of the Austrian equivalent of 911, I received a phonecall from someone telling me that my daughter was waiting in front of the electronics shop....just a few feet from where she was lost.
I thanked whoever that was and bolted over there.
The couple (with a group of friends) who I found standing with her had apparently waited with her for the past 45 minutes and were just about to go to the police themselves.
I was so relieved I wanted to hug and slap that kid at the same time. I went with the hug and told her how much she had scared me.
I was told that Maia had approached the woman and had told her that she can't find us anymore. When she was asked where she lived, Maia apparently answered "in a cave". (whatever the heck that is supposed to mean.) and when asked where her father worked, she responded "in a cave, too." ;) ...hmmm maybe it's the way you get to our house...or maybe the fact that our apartment is very shady.....but I sure don't hope it's because of the fact that Dario has been super-lazy with taking them out these past two weeks. (I've been complaining about that already.)

Anyway, I am glad as I can be that she was o.k. ...and I gotta teach that child our phonenumber and address!!!! My neighbor recommended to write the kids' phonenumbers on their arms with a marker when going out to such places (full of people).

I told Maia, later in the evening, that she was going to have to remember our number and this way, if she ever would get lost, she would know.
"But I don't have a phone," she dryly said. ;)

missing Rosa (and vice versa)

one of those weeks. not much time to blog....so here one of my e-mail exchanges:

--------On 10/24/06, Rosa wrote:
I'm awake don't ask, so worried about new job. I start on Monday, so crazy. Come home, I miss you more. So lonely right now. Depressed, if you can believe it, although no one can tell.
I agree about the kids, Lucas is soooo big, fresh too, arrgh I don't like 5 year olds, can't wait for 6 (I still like him but it's mostly from past experience.)

I also burned Lucky Slevin and Shop girl, hope you didn't see them, but you probably did.
I've kicked Rick out of my life and am going through withdrawal, this too shall pass. By the way he says of course you can crash here, it's still not painted, but you might have to live with him and not me. I'm not very popular with him right now ( you know kicking him out and all).

Anyway, my goal right now is to kick ass at my new job, so I can get a promotion and raise so I can afford to send one of the twins to college. I'm so panicked about that... Yet, what the hell am I going to do, grin and bear it - bear it and grin ; ) What did I forget, oh shit forgot to pay Dario, will put into your account tomorrow without fail, so sorry. What's happening with the deportee??? Apostille, etc. Will soon be too busy to even write you a short note.

Kiss those girls for me and show them the one picture of me over and over again so they don't forget me. I show your family picture to Lucas everyday, it's on the fridge. Sometimes he gets sad and says "why is Maia so far away" or "Let's go see Maia".
I'm blabbering. Much love and kisses,Rosa

-------on 10/27/06 sisi wrote:
oh, it is so good to hear you talk (even if it is just in writing). can't believe YOU can get depressed. is that even possible? you are like my idol in positive outlook and living your life right, so you gotta keep that up ...otherwise my world comes crashing down. ;)

>> arrgh I don't like 5 year olds, can't wait for 6 (I still like him but it's mostly
from past experience.)

LOL ;D. that's hilarious. really, he's bad right now? maybe the whole laissez-faire montessori approach isn't the right way, after all (just kiddin'). I am surprised, because Maia is at a very good stage lately (4,5 is kind to us). She is pretty reasonable, very independent, and very enduring (can hold up even when she has a hard time doing it....e.g. at hiking, which she seems to dislike as much as I used to;)

>>so worried about new job. I start on Monday, so crazy.

why would you be worried? you rock and they are lucky to have somebody like u come in.
not only do you kick ass and got your act together, but you are also absolutely loveable....so they are getting a full package. :)
...and ...oh no....you are starting on Monday?!! ...so much for the Apostille. Did you get Dario's document, by the way? I had one of my co-workers Fed-ex or UPS it to you from Boston (or Seattle) or whereeverthehell they went. To save time (mailing from Austria and all)...
But, of course, ..you would still need instructions on how to get the Apostille. ... Well, I guess, tell me when you have a couple of hours to spare one of these days...
(Hopefully they won't deport him by then....although, that would save us in ticket costs, specially if we are coming back.)

Spoke to Susanne (our tenant) yesterday. She still is convinced she will be giving us money on the first of November. She is taking her man to court, apparently. But even if she does... how would she catch up on what she owes us?
I can't even think about what this situation has cost us. It's devastating...
I told her to please look for another living arrangement...and regardless, to please be responsible enough to pay what she owes us, ...even if she is not going to be living in the apt. anymore.

I am horse-backriding twice a week now and the excercise is really doing me good. Loosens the chronic knots in my back. (Apparently, I have problems with my spinal disks. I had an exam.)

Maia is riding her bike without training wheels now. That pedalless bike really did wonders. Someone gave us a little regular bike and she can ride it without problems. She still doesn't know how to start pedaling from stand-still but she just started riding this thing yesterday.

Nayla is huge (i.e. tall), compared to Maia at that age, anyway. She is talking English and German all mixed up but she is throwing in full sentences now. She loves to cuddle, hug, and kiss ...but she also loves to whine, scream, and slam doors. (The time-outs have begun, although she hasn't had a temper tantrum, yet. ... I remember this stage with Maia and it was full with those scary tt-s). She (Nayla) has been fully potty-trained for a while now (since before the summer, I think), and she insists on getting dressed herself. ;) To think that until very recently I still had to dress Maia. I didn't know they could do that at this age (she's just at 2,5 y. now). I have learned my lesson.

So, Marta is leaving on Tuesday.
Oh, how I wish, you could get on that plane with her and come visit, too.
The fall has been gorgeous here, by the way. This month it rained maybe one or two days, the rest was fantastic. You really learn to appreciate the weather here. It is never to be taken for granted.

All in all I have been feeling better. (HEY, maybe it is the weather! ;) ..I am known to be a sun-dependent child.) Really, I don't care why I am feeling better... I just am happy that I AM. It has been a dark phase for me for quite a while now and I am so glad to be able to see the light again. :)

anyway, ..I gotta go now. Got up at 5am for work today. Was at the job until 5pm. Then got the kids for an hour and finally went to excercise the horse (which includes me, too) for an hour.
I am tiired. Still have to book a hostel, though. Did I tell you? When Marta and Michelle are coming, we are going to take a quick trip to Florence! We found a flight for 2 cents!! (0.02!)
With taxes that comes to about 25 bucks per flight.

alrighty now.
I'm goin'.
xoxoxoxoxxo
love, sisi
PS: xox also to the boys.
PPS: I am thinking of getting bangs. (Big mistake? Great change? We will find out soon.)

and I thought I had bad luck

so this is my current situation:

- lost my job last week.
- have to move out of my apartment even though we just moved in a few months ago.
- Dario is getting obstacles thrown into every step he takes with his new business here (which, since I am the German-speaking one, have to clear up).
- We just found out, he still needs another really hard to get document to become a legal resident here in Austria. This means weeks of work and possibly an expensive trip to NY.
- Our tenants in the NY apartment haven't paid the rent in months, and I'm about to run out of funds to cover their a**es.
- And every night, I get the wobbly plate. We have six plates but every single day during the past week or so I got the one plate that spins on its own axis during my whole meal.

but if you think this is kinda unfortunate, hear this:

one of the tenants (the wife) in our NY apt. told my brother in law that the reason she hasn't been paying the rent is because her husband has just left her. Apparently he cheated with some woman in the neighborhood. (So what happened in the months before that incident? They didn't pay much then, either.)
Anyway, so yesterday I called her on her cell-phone and with my luck (i.e. bad timing) I get her smack in the middle of some really worrisome situation. She told me that she was in the emergency room. When I asked her if everything was o.k., she told me that she once had breast-cancer and that it seems to have come back. :C

Now, if this is all true.... and even after 10 years in NYC...I still tend to believe people first, before I doubt them.... then it's a really f*cked up situation for her. First thing I thought is that bad luck is hunting her down even worse than me. ...

Of course, the money I will never see now is on my mind, as well..... so is the fact that I am beginning to approach a serious risk of losing my place there .... but somehow my sympathy for this woman is greater. I just feel really bad for her...

so I've been discovered by a famous movie director

This is unbelievable. I'm still not sure if I was dreaming or not.

Yesterday, my friend Marta and I stopped at Starbucks for coffee before a movie ("The New World"). As I was waiting for my cup of mocha and for Marta to return from the bathrooms, I watched a conversation between a Starbucks employee and a big simpatico-looking man with a beard. Apparently the man with the beard was a known director (James Toback, as it turned out) and the Starbucks guy was complimenting him on his work.

Anyway, so Toback lets the guy in the apron shake his hand one more time and then turns to me to ask, whether I know who he is.
"No," I say, "I'm sorry. But from what I just heard, you're a director with some talent."
"Well, I've done about 10 [?] movies ..."Two Guys and a Girl" with Robert Downey Jr., "When Will I be loved" with Neve Campbell, "Fingers" with Harvey Keitel. Seen any of those?"
-Ehm, no" I reply, slightly embarrassed, "but I've heard of them, so that's good." (great answer, sis.)
"Anyway," he continues, "Just as I've been flattered by the previous conversation, I would like to now pass this on to you and tell you that you mesmorize me and that I would like you to be in my next movie...it's with Chris Rock and...[can't remember who else he mentioned. I was just like: CHRIS ROCK??!! sweet!;)]
He then asked me, what I am doing, if I'm athletic, and if I've done any acting which I have (for most of my youth..until I was about 22). I also used to be quite athletic...but again, looong time ago.

Anyway, he wrote down his number for me and took down mine, in case I don't call him.

This couldn't be worse timing. I mean, ever since I was a little kid (to be exact, since I was 8 years old), I dreamt about a moment like this. That some director would just walk up to me and ask me to be in his movie. I loved being on stage but I also knew that acting is a job made only for a few (especially from a financial point of view). Anyway, the fantasy was so far-fetched that I don't think I ever mentioned it to anyone.

Well, let's see what going to happen. I already have my ticket to Austria so I really don't know what to do. Life is quite "funny" sometimes.
Also, I hear Toback used the "I'm a director...etc." as a pick-up line quite a few times in his life-time...so I'm not sure if this is all for real. And truly, that would make much more sense. Who the hell would want to put my wrinkly-ringsundermyeyes-currentlyquitepimply face (not to mention body) on a big screen? Dim Starbucks lighting has served me well. Let's see if this all holds up in daylight. If I call him, that is.

;)