happiness is not a matter of location

Reminder to myself: Happiness comes from WITHIN, dammit.

ok. so, I am trying to figure out how smart my move back to Austria was but I am too darn busy to really think about it. I guess, it also is just too early to evaluate...and ... somehow, I am convinced that my judgment is currently clouded by
a) too much work
b) the cold-ass temperatures (it is almost June, for Goodness sake)
c) the fact that I miss my friends with an incredible desperation

I know, that this place is best for my kids...at least, for the most part.
I generally feel safer...
Maia already got lost and returned in IKEA, disappears and comes back with all kinds of kids (usually girls a few years older than her) she makes friends with, goes to the neighbor's house to play, etc. etc.
I don't have to worry about schooling or healthcare, and I am already approved for the monthly child-credit from the state (about 180 Euros/kid).
She will soon walk to Kindergarden and then to school by herself and her/our lifestyle will be completely different. She will be a different child than if she were to grow up in the States (and in NYC)....tell me what you want - I can see it in the children here. They are very different in the way they are....more innocent, if you will. Dario pointed this out, as well.

However, despite all this, I have to think about what Rosa said to me: Don't sacrifice your own happiness for your child. They will be fine here or there.
But I am not sacrificing my happiness....I am just adjusting my preferences, I think. Sure, I like living in the States (maybe not in the big city anymore...it's too much stress....but I am sure I can find a nice spot somewhere)......but I think this environment here is best for my girls and isn't it my job to make sure I do what is best for my kids?

Now, if Dario becomes unhappy it will become a different story, for this is not his home....

Must see URLs

(totally on the web 2.0 trip)...

Specially for the New Yorkers:
http://local.alkemis.com/ (check traffic via live webcams, listen to police radio, check subway discrepancies, etc.)
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http://www.digg.com (a news portal with a new approach to editing)
http://www.netvibes.com/ (make your own personal portal - very dynamic. very fast. very cool)

http://www.placeopedia.com/ map stuff
http://www.wayfaring.com also map/traveling stuff

http://jumpcut.com/ make your own video online.
http://eyespot.com/ same thing as above
http://youtube.com/ (which, really, you should know by now)

http://del.icio.us/ (tagging - a real big thing here)

http://www.peekvid.com/
yeiiiiihhhh….I get to watch some US TV! They even have Grey’s Anatomy! ...no Gilmore Girls, though :( ....yes, I am a Girlmore Girl addict. There, ...now you know it.... and no, I am not ashamed of it. The dialogue is excellent in that show.

http://www.programmableweb.com/matrix this ...is just kinda cool ..if u are looking for a tool

what is the freaking point of love??

What is the point of love? I am just wondering.
...What is the genetic purpose for love?
I am just wondering because I have noticed how often love is so misplaced that it really messes with a whole array of otherwise well functioning parts of our lives.
Why is love so out of our control? Why can we not choose who to love and who not to love?
We should at least be able NOT to love the people we also hate, for whatever reason. Or NOT love the people who really would just destroy our lives and order as we know it.

So, what is the freaking point of love?
Why does it make us blind to the complete disaster it could cause?

People have killed because of love. People have lost their minds because of love. People have done a whole shitload of quite radical things because of fucking love.
Why can it not be controlled? The pragmatist that I am I would like an explanation or at least a freaking theory that makes sense in the genetic make-up of humans.
What is the biological purpose for love?

This is almost as unanswerable (is that a word??) as the question about why God seems to distribute good luck and horrible fates quite strangely sometimes....but at least there I am already in a completely different realm. The latter is more a philosophical question, whereas my first question is rather a scientific question.
Any theories? Anyone?

Maia sez (die zweite)

Dario to Maia: Would you trade mommy for a horse?
Maia: No.
Dario: How about a thousand horses?
Maia: No.
Dario: How about a flying horse? Would you trade her for Pegasus?
Maia: yes!! :D
Me: (in shock)
Dario (to me): Don't worry. She was gonna trade me for an ant earlier. At least, you got up to a mythical character.
Me: Yeah,..I guess.

*****
Maia and I attended The Appasionata (a hugely successful horse-gala event travelling through Europe). When we bought a show-program for 5 Euros (about 6 bucks) we never even opened, by the way, she told the girl who was selling us the magazine that she loved her. The reasoning behind this is less a matter of emotional connection but more of fascination by beauty...or shall I say...superficiality. I really don't know where she's got that from.
Anyway, much later...as we were leaving the show actually, Maia turns to me and tells me Mommy, I love you soo much. -- ooh, that is so sweet, I say but before I can reciprocrate she adds: yeah, but I love the girl who gave us the program more. --Alrighty, then, I thought trying not to get into a discussion about how many times she has told me she loved me and how that now suddenly meant nothing... ;)
...the mama-drama....or vice versa.

how Maia fell out the window

Maia fell out the window today.
First of all, a note to all fathers if left alone with your kids: Do not call your wife while the kid is still screaming in the background and then have the first words out of your mouth be "our child fell out the window!" You already know she is o.k., just still upset, why are you going with the shock- opening-line? This can have devastating consequences. I almost had a heart-attack. I was shaking, I couldn't even form a sentence.

In the end I didn't care about any of his reassurances that Maia was o.k. She fell about 7 or 8 feet and she was still crying, so I just left the office to go check on her.

Apparently, D had tried to plug in our X-box (the one we brought with us from NY ..i.e. 120V vs. 240V here). The thing burned out immediately (just as our DVD-player had the week before), producing big smoke clouds. Naturally he ran to the window to air out the room. He then turned back to the game console and next thing you know he heard Maia crying outside. Baby joined right in. A kind of solidarity cry, so to say. Maia had fallen out the living room window and landed on the path below it - a grid of concrete plates and gravel. Thankfully, Maia must have mostly landed on her arms and legs and mostly on the gravel. I told her to thank God for that...and she wondered if he was there right next to her, protecting her. He/She must have been, cause this could have gone awfully bad.
Thank you God!

the corporate world and me

wrote this Monday (1st of May) night but had no internet to post ...so I am adding it today.

I am beginning to wonder, whether I am made for the corporate world. Or maybe I am just too old for the corporate world, …in other words…I just don’t have that youthful, exploit-me-I-will-work-for-18hours-for-practically nothing drive anymore. I don’t care to kiss ass…well, really I never did, so thanks to my dad for the laissez-faire up-bringing….no respect for authorities.

Anyway, …today I spent from 9 am until 10 pm in my chair at the office trying to tame the news. I was signed up for holiday duty, which means you do the job of 6 people by your damn self. Others seem to manage this between the normal weekend shift-hours of 9am to 6.30pm. They even have time for lunch and coffee breaks. I on the other hand, did not budge and still managed to fuck up. I later on watched the late-night news on CNN with great despair – realizing how many stories I had missed during my shift – and a bit in awe about the fact that I had managed to single-handedly make hundreds of thousands of people (I forget the exact number of daily vol.at visitors) a tiny bit more ignorant (...at least about the day's news, that is).
Really, I do like the projects but the editorial duty is killing me. There is so much routine needed to complete the job in time and I seem to be unable to get into this routine, since I only have 2 days of editorial duty a week.

Anyway,…today when I finally arrived at home longing for some rest, I found myself faced with a mess, which was just impossible to ignore. Poor D, who had anticipated my home-coming since the clock struck 6.30 was laid out on the carpet – next to the electric heater - with a fever. The baby was sleeping happily next to him, missing a diaper.
Since I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, I welcomed the dirty plates from the kids’ dinner left on the kitchen table. I hungrily scraped off the cold fish-stick leftovers -something I would usually discard with a disgusted grunt – and washed it down with some flat soda.

Now it is almost midnight, and I have to be back at work at 9am. So, I better go. I hope Dario will feel better tomorrow. It sucks to be sick and have two kids to take care of.

Oh…a cute-zie report from the Maia front:

Maia to Dario:
You know, my favorite thing in the whole world are horsies. And then unicorns, and then Mami, ...........and then baby.... and then Daddy.

Maia sings a Good-night song to me and baby (baby being Nayla, who just turned two the other day) ;)
There was Mami and Maia and Baby and Daddyyyy…and they rode on a flyiiing horsiiiee…over the seaaa to Ameeeerica….and then a crocodile ate them…..and theeen a whale ate the crocodile….and sooo the crocodile got a belly-ache and spit them all out again….and soo they were in the whale….

I lost her there…since I was almost falling asleep but I told myself that I had to write this down. Of course, it would have been nice if I had actually stayed awake to hear the end of her song. Sorry…. I’m sure there are more crazy storylines where that came from. Will report again.

Austrian oddities...or Vorarlbergian oddities, anyway

- When we were shopping for a new vehicle every car-dealer let us take out the car for a test-drive by ourselves. New Yorkers that we are…or should I say…Ghettoites that we are, we considered not coming back…but only for a moment… ;)

- People look at you funny when you blast your car-stereo (especially, when it’s Reggaeton)…the Ghetto is deep within us. ;)

- the y is where the z is on the kezboard….aaaargh….keyboard.

- speaking of the computer, you have to press CTRL+ALT+Q to get an @ sign.

- Kindergarten is not like Kindergarden…i.e. not first grade but like pre-school..and not even that is correct…since they really just go there to play at first. No alphabet training until they’re maybe 5 or 6.
(I am wondering if I am holding Maia back now… did I mess up any options?… how important are these early years really?…aaah…paranoia subtly surfaces).

- kids walk to and from kindergarden (hmm…daycare, pre-school) by themselves ! (nowadays they wait until the kids are around five before they let them walk alone, though.)

- post office clerks are the probably nicest people in public service you will meet. Or maybe I just met a few freaks. I was just standing there thinking…this can’t be true….nobody can be this happy and friendly all the time…to every costumer….but after a few visits I lost my doubts.
But seriously, there are some incredibly friendly sales-people here…performing jobs, you would think they should hate and thus would justify any and all attitude. I am still trying to understand this phenomenon. If I solve the mystery, I’ll let you know.

- a hero with turkey, cheese, pickles, eggs, ….the works, so to say...doesn’t cost 7.50.- but about 1.99.-. This I really don’t get, for you only get sandwiches in the supermarket where you order from the bread-counter girl, who then takes your bread of choice to the meat-counter to cut and weigh your meat of choice, then moves on to the cheese-counter to do the same and last but not least cuts the condiments of your choice. Needless to say, I am wasting her time ordering this kind of sandwich and still get only charged a buck and a half.

- it takes a minimum of a month to get internet (huff & puff)…at least in Vorarlberg.

- people can wear the same clothes two times in a row to work and won’t get stared at (except by me, maybe)

- some people still refer to black people as negroes here and think this is perfectly acceptable. :O They don’t mean it in any racist way, either…it’s just…really weird and …of course, ignorant…to me, anyway. (Vern is gonna have a blast when he comes visit. Especially if he brings his favorite T-shirt that says No, white lady I don't want your damn purse.) ;)

- at the gas-station, you pay after you put gas in.

- when you get a speeding-ticket you pay the cop in cash (yes, I got a ticket already, …test-driving one of them damn cars…and no, I wasn’t fooled…you really do pay them cash…you get a receipt.)

- there is no take-out coffee! ... the whole fast-food and take-out/delivery thing is generally not really present

- all shops close at 5 or 6pm..a lot of them are closed on Saturdays...and ALL businesses are closed on Sundays and state-holidays. Coming from NYC, the city that proverbially and literally never sleeps, this is quite an adjustment.

To be continued

Maia sez

Dario is sleeping in late. Around 9am Maia has had enough.:
Mom, she says with an annoyed tone of voice, what is it with Daddy? He is just sleeping and sleeping. ...He's like Sleeping Beauty.

----------------

Maia is getting on my last nerve. I am trying to put baby down for a nap and every time she's almost asleep, Maia bursts in the door, ignoring all my pleas to leave. After the 3rd time, I lose it and yell out: Dario, would you please tie this child to a chair or something. She is driving me crazy. (don't know where that came from but sometimes you don't think what you're saying at high stress times).
Anyway, later in the day...the incident long forgotten....Maia calls me into her room, seemingly annoyed by her little sister. Mom, she says in a calm, very polite and by-the-way kinda voice, could you please tie baby to a chair...she is keeps on messing up my puzzle.
MAIAAA, I cry, that was only a joke! (and secretly I panic: oh my God, she is going to repeat that on her first day at school...and that will be the end of my beautiful family-life here.)

------------------

D to Maia: We have to go the Rathaus (German for City Hall) tomorrow.
Maia: I don't wanna go anywhere where there are rats running around.
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checking in

It’s weird to log into my American laptop after such a long time. Outlook reminds me of forgotten birthdays, classes I was signed up for, and that play I didn’t want to miss.

It looks like I won’t have any internet access for another 4-6 weeks (if I am lucky….a colleague of mine tells me she waited 3 months for her connection). At work I hardly have time for anything private. I barely can get in important administrative errands, forget about anything leisurely private such as writing blogs (this one I am writing, saving on a stick and posting later), preparing images for my online albums, or answering e-mails of friends. In combination with not having a land-line (only a cell-phone that charges me 20 cents/ minute) and the fact that we still are without car I would say the circumstances are rather simple, maybe even difficult here. But for some reason I really enjoy this “back to basics” first phase. I am walking to the bus in the morning, Dario walks into the village to buy groceries with the kids, and at night we heat the place with our fire-place.
It took me a few days to learn how to make fire. The first day I smoked up the whole apartment and we had to open all the windows as not to suffocate or die of gas-poisoning, which in consequence made the place even colder than it was before.

The kids are outside a lot (probably because we don’t have any toys, yet….they are still sitting in NY, being held by the moving company I’ve been bitterly fighting with over the past two weeks.) Oh, and here my first step in my mission to make sure they don’t get other business (ha, ha…well, within the group of 20 people who read my blog…or however many there are): If you’re looking to move, don’t go with INFINITY Moving and Storage Co. ….they're nice and cute until you have a problem, which, let’s face it, moving always brings some sort of problems and you have to start talking to their ghetto-fabulous costumer service rep.
I will post my e-mail correspondence with the girl later, if you care to read it. It’s long and you might not care….but …oh well, this blog entry is rather long….and really, I find it kinda lame today. It all sounded much better in my head…but that was days ago….this always happens…the perfect entry comes to me when I am in no way able to sit down and write.

Dario is calling. He made left-over lunch. He’s been great so far. Building, fixing, assembling, cooking, you name it. ...but I think, it is finally sinking in that he is pretty much alone here. No social circle, no language, and last but not least, the only stay-at-home dad in the neighborhood.

Other that that it's been good..specially now that spring is coming …but I really…really miss my friends in NY.

quick quick - austria arrival

so much to tell but so little time. In the meantime, I am using my e-mail correspondence to capture some of the events. More to come.
----------------------------------
beth writes:
Hi....just a quick note to say I Hope the trip was safe & uneventful!!!!
......I started crying when I got home and started doing a 'pick-up' of the toy scatter left by Sunday mornings activities!!!!!!.....I will miss my girls (& their parents too!)
.....get me your mailing address ASAP.
...Nayla's birthday is in less than 2 weeks!!!....it hardly seems like 2 years since I carried her out of the hospital on her way home for the first time!!!!
....will call Rosa tomorrow to see where she needs help getting your apt. into shape.....
Love always
B (& Howie too!)
XXXOOO
----------------------------------------------
sisi writes:
I cried, too ... a couple of times. ; (Then the eventfulness of the trip set in. Forgot diapers for Nayla, then 2 hours waiting in the plane (some missing screw somewhere), then waiting in Zurich cause the plane tunnel thingy didn`t work...then Nayla fell in that plane tunnel thingy and bled from her nose for like a half an hour, then 2 hours at the Zurich airport trying to maneuver 8 bags, 3 backpacks, 2 kids and a stroller from the terminal to the car and most importantly INTO the car. We should have taken a picture of us and the bags squeezed on and into that vehicle. I still can`t believe it. Then we had to drive an hour and a half to our new place, drag all the bags up a long set of stairs, then drive to Bludenz (another hour) to fulfill lunch (at that point dinner) date. I think I was falling asleep talking and finally went to sleep around 8.30pm on Monday. Anyway...it`s 2am now and I gotta get up at 7am to continue the 18.000 chores I have to do before work starts on Monday. ;)

Rosa could definitely use some help. I feel bad having left her with so much shit to do. THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN FOR BEING SUCH AN INCREDIBLE FRIEND!!
I love you and I miss you already! xoxoxo
s.
PS: xox also to Howie.

no more sleep 'til sunday

I've decided that the only way to find time to take care of all the things on my before-we-leave-the-country-to-do-list is to omit any and all sleep until Sunday. Oh well, one can't have everything.

so, back to cleaning the house I go. then I need to shower and I really must get started on weeding through our filing cabinet. It's just gonna be me and my shredder for the night.

Red Bull here I come.

oh, but before I log off...I just wanted to jot down this one little conversation D overheard yesterday:
Lucas (Rosa's 4-year old son & Maia's best friend) to Maia: You know, you can't have any boys over at your house anymore. ..... Only me. .....You can have a hundred girls...but no boys.

Interesting, isn't it? Where is he getting this from? He doesn't watch TV like that. He has no such environment. Must really be in the male genetic make-up ...that whole possessive urge.
;)

beauty = power

this morning, as both kids are glued to me once again while I am trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep, I finally turn to Maia and ask half-frustratedly (if that's a word):
What is it with you girls that you have to stick to me like that? You have a perfectly good daddy right outside this door, much more awake and willing to help you than I am. ....Is it that you like me better, or what?
Maia: yes! :)
Me: Really? And why is that?
Maia: Because you're prettier than Daddy.

LOL. well, I sure am glad we're teaching the girl all the right values here. ;)

nostalgic breakdowns

It was only natural that I was crying when I cancelled my final interview with the ICP-Bard admissions committee last week, however, the reason for my nervous breakdown in front of the dairy section of Stop & Shop a few days ago brought my attention to some apparently much deeper sadness about my plans to leave my life here in New York. Nevertheless, I blamed the stress, got myself together and moved on to the juice isle.

This morning, however, I woke up once again with a heavier heart - aware that the days until our departure are now in the single digits. When I then checked my admissions status at SVA I almost came to tears again .... and I was only navigating through the site. I am just becoming very aware of what I am letting go here. A creative endeavor I have always dreamed of....

But I am getting over it. This whole move is for the better, I believe.
For the better of the family ...and that is what should be my first priority anyway.

I am going to miss my friends.
I am going to miss New York.
But it's gonna be alright.
I hope.

Hey, I'm allowed to be a bit nostalgic here, am I not?!

all things come to an end

To save some time, here today`s e-mail exchange with one of my closest friends.
_
He writes:
---------------------
Hey Sisi,

I don't have a lot of time to write right now. I've been in a little bit of a funk-- no doubt you've heard that work is a little crazy with people jumping ship and one of my best friends in the world will be leaving soon.

But I wanted to say, yeah. Last minute panicking is natural, but all things considered I'm confident you're making the right decision. One, the girls need to learn German and English (and probably some Spanish and a forth Asian language) if they're going to thrive in the emerging market, plus no doubt getting them into a quality school won't be such a crap shoot, especially once they get a handle on German.

Two, I think you've been loosing important pieces of yourself over the past few years-- no doubt you discovered as much about yourself as you lost, but I think it's a good time for you to reclaim a lot of who you used to be.

Third, Dario needs a change, I think there were too many things around him reinforcing his juvenial inclinations. Working in a completely new environment will be really challenging and one thing about D he welcomes a good challenge, so I think this will go a long way to growing him up. If I were, I wouldn't expect him to stop playing games though, that's an inescapable global phenomena.

As far as graduate school goes. I've always been one of those folks in the camp that if you really want to be a photographer, that's what you'll be. If you're doing it for the right reasons (driving by the passion the challenge the desire the love to capture and make precious some of life's fleeting moments) then it doesn't matter whether you do so as a professional or an amateur (who, I remind you, is someone who engages a habitual activity out of love). But if you're not convinced, well, graduate programs have been around for at least 50 years, I'm sure they'll still be around when you're ready.Anyway, I need to get back to work, no doubt, more later.

Vern
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
hey vern,

thanks for your wonderful and very insightful e-mail.
This is the kind of emotional support I need at this great crossroads of my life (although, ....technically I feel like I`ve already passed the crossing...;)

Anyway, it was good to hear your feedback and, believe me, it isn`t easy for me to let go of my friendships either. I`ve been in a funk myself for the past few days. Good thing we are living in the 21st century and keeping in touch and up-to-date won`t be such an undertaking. Plus, I did always prefer your writing....although, I must say, your wife has done a good job polishing those rough (sometimes very annoying) edges of yours. - sh*t...somehow that sentence didn`t work....already I am losing my English....BUT hey! you know what a friend of the family told me today?! ...a few weeks ago she had run into my old German teacher (in the States, comparable to one`s Englisch teacher, I suppose)....and he had told her that I was his best student in his 35 years of duty as a professor.
How come they don`t tell you this when you go to school? I don`t recall EVER getting a compliment at school. .... of course, there must have been some...but apparently they were so rare that I don`t remember. What I do remember are the beatings and never-ending scoldings I got at school.
Although, I think, my English teacher once complimented me on my continous excellence on our English vocabulary tests. Of course, the last paragraph is anything but a good example of those apparent "excellent" English skills. ;)
My mom reminded me that I used to be very athletic...always bringing home medals. I don`t remember any medals. That must have been wishful motherly thinking. ;) ....Actually, wait!....I do remember a medal...once...I got in 3rd or 4th place in a bobsledding race, in which I almost died btw. (aah, the beauty of small-town athletic events. safety: a non-issue.)

Anyway, ....it`s getting late. Only a few days until I finally fly back to my beloved family.
Nini has been potty-trained in my absence. I am upset. ....... and she isn`t even two, yet.

Oh,... one more story before I go:
Yesterday, I got a skype call at work. I saw it was Dario calling, so I hung up...thinking what is he doing calling me at work? I can`t be skyping here. Then it rings again, so I picked up....not saying anything...waiting for him to tell me what he needs to tell me.
Then I hear Maia: MOOOM, I know you`re there. ...Say something. It was too cute. ;)Then she started going on about her day, and what she had been doing, and how her dad is annoying her but that she loves him anyway....
Finally Dario came into the room...quite surprised. Apparently, she must have picked my name out of the contact list and then just pressed the button to call me. May I mention that the other day I spent about 45 min. trying to explain to my father, who is about 60 years older than my daughter, how to make a phone-call with skype. ;)

ok. now I really am going to go.
Today is my 8th wedding anniversary....and this summer D and I will have been together for 11 years.
I`m slightly amazed.
;)
anyway, I gotta go.
say hi to your lady,
c-u soon,
s.

forget what I wrote yesterday

....that was just BS, I think.
I think, I am just afraid of this big step. That`s all.

Most of all I am probably afraid I might regret the fact that I will have to reject the acceptance of Graduate Schools I have tried very hard to get into. Schools that are very selective and whose invitation to study isn`t to be taken for granted.

Oh well, at least I can comfort myself with the fact that I got in.
But seriously, I think I am standing on an edge here. Don`t know what will happen when I jump (I can`t even say if I jump).

Do I really want to live in a country that allows advertisement such as this?



The poster is an ad of the liberal party (which really is a right-wing party) and it is supposed to encourage people to sign their petition to forbid Turkey its anticipated membership in the European Union.
The poster's headline asks if we want this to be our future. (aaaarrrgh. f*in idiots. I can`t believe they get away with this).
Anyway, so far they haven`t really had much response to this. The petition booths opened 3 days ago and except for a few senior citizens nobody seems to sign. So, thank God, there is hope. People are not all idiots.

But really, I wonder, if I will find this peace and goodness I am looking for in life. I am afraid that my expectations will be shattered and that I will be bitterly disappointed .......and when this happens, where will I go? How do we flee from human failure? It is everywhere. Even within ourselves.

nightmares and doubts

Last night was filled with bad dreams about me being here. Anxieties driven by an earlier conversation with my grandmother, I suppose. It wasn`t like I didn`t know this was coming. My grandmother has always been critical about all my big life-changing decisions. Going to America, getting married, having my first child, etc. I clearly remember the things she told me about the latter fact: "You just finished college. Weren`t you going to start your career now? Well, your life is over now. It`s the end of all your passions, anyway," she said, "I don`t understand why you have to have a child now." Mind you, I was 27 then and already pregnant. This just isn`t the kind of thing you tell someone who is already half-way through with the project, so to say.

Anyway, yesterday when I spoke to her on the phone she totally broke me.
I was visiting a friend`s house - a small dinner party. Needless to say, I was embarrassed to rejoin the table, for I had troubles to remain composed. I had to step away twice to take a few deep breaths in the hallway to be able to control myself and not break into tears.
My grandmother had hit a raw nerve. An underlying anxiety about this whole existence-changing endeavor of mine (ours). She hit the fears about the risk I am taking and she hit my insecurities like a pro mom-surrogate, I suppose.
I think you are being irresponsible here. You are always jumping all over the place. But, oh well, you`ve always been that way.
-Grandma, I said, how can you say that? I`ve been in New York for almost ten years. I`ve been working at the same place for about 8 years. I have my own apartment, I have been in the same relationship for almost 11 years. How much more stable can I be?
-Why do you want to come back? she countered, I thought you are happy there. I find it reckless of you to leave a stable job, your apartment, everything you have to come back here.
-I am taking a leave (if all goes bad, we can return and I, at least, will have a job), we are renting our place...
-I don`t understand why.
-I just think it`s better for the kids.
-I don`t buy that. I don`t believe that you would do something like this just for the kids.
-(ouch). Listen, if I would be selfish, I`d stay. I love New York City. I just got note from the first of the three Graduate Schools I applied to that I have been accepted and that is a great honor and opportunity. They don`t just take anybody. They are extremely selective. Out of hundreds of applications they take maybe 10 people.
- Well, this isn`t really what you wanted anyway. You always wanted to work in the film business.
- It is, too, what I wanted. It was one of my options, one of my paths. The reason I came to New York to study photography is because I didn`t make the entry exam into the only Viennese photo-program.
-That`s because you didn`t try hard enough.
-What? I studied hard. How could I know that it turned out to be all math and chemistry on that test.
-Well, you`re going to proceed as you like anyway,..soo whatever you say.

This was only an excerpt of the things she told me. I am still shaken by it, when I shouldn`t be. Why do I let this affect me in such a way? I know better. She doesn`t know my life, she doesn`t know the details, the realities, ....she is just passing a judgement as an outsider.
MUST ignore.

Anyway, today I am beginning to be really homesick.

things fall into place

I finished my second week at the job here in Austria and things are looking better work-wise. It is a LOT of work but it is not always the same, for I will be doing editorial work and project work (50:50). Already, my mind is sharper for I have to be very alert all day long.
Imagine a news agency. This is what the editorial part of my day entails, which I find kinda funny, since I haven`t kept track of the news (world, Austria, whatever) in years. I just didn`t have the time to go dig for the stuff I needed to know. Anyway, it`s not like they don`t like to bring gossip and mundane stuff on their newsportal, as well, but I also get exposed to all the important info (hey, I now know, for example, who the Polish president is, when he was elected and how you spell his name ...Lech Kaczynki. Now that I look at it...I`m not so sure if it`s really spelled that way but at least I know who we`re talking about if his name is mentioned. ;)
The editorial work is also a bit stressful, for we are working on a news-portal (i.e. we change the stories on it every few minutes. it feels like, you`re never finished with your work, which is a bit agitating.)

The other day I posted a story on the homepage, and when I told the editor-in-chief to have a quick look, she said: "Nice,...but..ehm... why is it in English?"
Totally didn`t realize that I had switched to an English text. So for about a half an hour (until all servers had updated their content) our little Vorarlberg newportal had a moment of great internationality. ;)

Other than work, I`ve been looking for apartments and have actually found one I am totally taken by.



In these images you can see the typical European weather. Or Austrian, anyway. It`s bad weather half the time, which makes you appreciate a day of sun and beauty allthemore (if that`s a word - probably not). In the entire time that I`ve been here we had maybe one and a half days of sun.
New York rocks in that department. Always freaggin` sunny. I loooove that.

ok. I have to go now. The shops close early here (the ones that are open on Saturdays close at 5pm. Sundays everything is closed, except for some gas-station stores.)

Also, today is "Funka". This is a costum apparently only practiced in Vorarlberg. Every village builds and burns down a big woodtower on this Sunday evening with a scare-crow style witch (filled with explosives- well, fireworks) tied to the top. They say it`s to scare away the winter but really it has its origins in the witch-hunts of the middle-ages. Also, I think it`s another reason to get drunk together. ;) No, seriously, ...it`s a fun thing to do with the kids...and watching a fire burn seems to fascinate all people through the ages.
Anyway, I don`t think I`m going. Let`s see, who`ll drag me.

in a land far far away

so, here I am. home. in austria. thousands of miles away from my family. it seems unnatural to be so far away from my children.
I try to think of the people at war...mothers at war. How the hell do they do it? I, at least, know that I will be back in a few weeks. Alive, most likely. Of course, one can never say but, well..you know what I mean.

I`ve been trying out at a job here. And whoever is reading this blog that works with me in NY, please keep that mouth shut. ;)
I just don`t know for sure if this is going to work out. Although, I must say.... I am pretty certain I am going to go through with this. D cannot wait for my final answer but since I still have two weeks to evaluate this job and everything that goes with it, I don`t want to say anything, yet.

Work-life here presents itself from a very different side. I know that the people here in Vorarlberg (Austria) are particularly known for their strong work-ethic. Having spent most of my youth here, I must have picked it up inadvertently. In fact, I have been ridiculed for it at my job in New York (by my co-workers AND my boss). But I didn`t understand what they must have meant by it until now that I am returning to my home, being able to see things from an outsider`s perspective.

Let me point out a few things: People here are extremely punctual. Over-punctual, one could say, for they appear to always be early. They take their jobs very seriously. That is not to say we don`t take our jobs seriously but I hardly know any people that do not engage in some private activities at the job. Be it in the form of chats, private mails, private internet research, or even just "extensive" social chatting with co-workers. Here things look different. People do not have private phone-conversations during work (maybe to quickly coordinate a later meeting but that`s it). They don`t check their private e-mail accounts, and they certainly don`t do any private websurfing.
I remember my father coming home for lunch when I was a kid but at the place I am trying out now the lunch-break is a half an hour long and everyone goes together. One also always brings their laptop with them, in case there is an urgent message. And almost all of them bring their cordless work-phones.
During the day they go for 2 or 3 coffee breaks (max. 5-10 min) and they also go all together.
I wouldn`t mind the herding urge but we already work all together in one big communal office (17 people, no cubicles), why spend the breaks together, too?
Maybe I am becoming antisocial on my old days but I need some alone time, as well.

It really isn`t as bad as it sounds, however, my mind is arguing with my gut. My mind tells me that this is crazy. I am willing to let go of a perfectly good job in New York freakin` City, with double the income I`d be taking home here, unmeasurably more flexibility and autonomy, and the possibilty to attend Graduate School on the side (to finally pursue my true passion: photography).

But my gut tells me this is what I am supposed to do. It just feels right to be here. I can`t explain it. The weather sucks. The job is questionable. I don`t know where the hell we`re going to live (i.e. how we would be able to afford our life here on a quarter of the amount of what we earn now). I don`t know how Dario is going to handle life as a houseman in a country, of which he does not speak the language.

I know the sacrifices I will be making (mostly work, work, work, work - HA HA) but I think this will be one of the very few times in my life I will listen to my heart.



...too bad I won`t prostitute myself for a movie-career. That`s probably the only thing that could have kept me in NY: The fulfillment of my fantasy of being an actress. ;) - to read what the hell that is all about click here.

never mind the movie career

Turns out James T. is kinda messed up in the head. Famous or not, this ain't my game. While he generally seemed like a nice guy he also is a sex-obsessed old man (no news for anyone who knows him, I suppose). I don't care how many celebrities he's slept with before he put them in his movie, it ain't gonna be me. And essentially, that's what I told him.
By the way, turns out a lot of celebrities that I thought were sweet, "honorable" people seem to be total sluts...according to Toback's stories anyway.
I am very disillusioned. Oh well, I kinda anticipated it. The instinct was there.

Good thing I took my friend with me to meet him, for it was really a bit of an awkward situation.

Anyway, ever since the moment of my director encounter Dario has been behaving like a total a-hole. I don't know if it's jealousy or whatever but I am really getting tired of his infantile behavior. He should know me by now.

10 years. Faithful.
Seems to mean nothing to him. ....or maybe, he doesn't believe it. I don't know.
Either way, I am insulted....and he doesn't care, of course.

Anyway, he's up to something....and it's driving me nuts. I don't have time for games. HE's a f-in' boy...a boy.

And yesterday, as I was going downtown, I told him to please call Rosa to make sure the kids are being picked up on time. He called her at 5.15 which gave her exactly 15 minutes to race from the Bronx to Manhattan to pick up the kids before the school closed. Then he didn't show up to relieve the babysitter until 7.30pm. "I lost track of time," he said to Rosa, who was still holding on to Maia. He then had to drive the babysitter who had been watching Nini home, so essentially he finally came to get the kids around 8pm.
When I returned at 10pm they were still up.

I was so mad. Completely unreliable. Can never be counted on.
What do you mean "I lost track of time?" .... he went to visit a friend who had had an accident (fine), ...with some girl I don't know (whatever)...and then he drove the girl home (somewhere in Yonkers). He left work at 3.30 though...so "how the hell can it take you until 7.30 to get back? You have two children waiting for you. You were the one responsible yesterday." Rosa felt taken advantage of (but she still cooked dinner for him) and I felt really angry (but I still told him how much I loved him before I went to bed).

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.

;)

the battle of the heart & mind

I'm still torn.
Tomorrow I will have another interview. This time with the top boss of the company who offered me that job in Austria.
In addition, the program director of the graduate school of my choice would like to speak with me in person before I withdraw my application.
This, of course, isn't helping my already tormented mind ...or should I say heart.

I think about this decision all day and time is running out. Soon I have to call it. Within days. Half the time I have a positive outlook on a move back home, and half the time I think about all the personal opportunities I might be or will be losing out on. I feel like I haven't completed yet, what I've come here for. I came here to study photography. Granted, I did complete my B.A., I still feel I am not finished.

Then again,....living here I am becoming more stupid by the minute. And mostly because I can. Nobody cares if I know the latest on world politics, nobody cares if I know the geographic location of the Falkland Islands, for example. The world here revolves around ourselves, it seems. Look at the local news, speak to your average Joe on the street. And you don't have to even get that general.
It is a very different environment. Nobody cares if you can spell properly ... probably because most of the people can't spell themselves. I remember how - in the beginning - I spent an eternity on every e-mail I wrote (my dictionary always and everywhere at arm's reach). Today, I hardly even proof-read to catch at least the worst mistakes. Nobody seems to care. I don't care....and I can't believe it sometimes. I can't believe what has become of me ....in general. I've let myself go big time. Maybe it's just that I am getting older and I realize that there's no need for all the bullshit ...but then again...this can lead to lower and lower standards until there are no more taboos, no more boundaries, no more rules. (alright, this is becoming radical. let me move on.)

It's going to be hard to get back into the formalities...but I think it will be good for the kids.

ok. tonight I am sending my last prayer on this topic. I'm not practicing anymore but when I spoke to my father about my dream, he pointed out that in Islam they really don't do the supersticious stuff (I suppose, he meant me thinking I got a sign). They believe that if you really have a big (life-changing) decision to make you are supposed to put as much thought into it as possible and then say two prayers to ask God to help you make the right decision and then let it be. Usually, he says, you are supposed to then sleep on it and should then feel a true inner lightness about the right decision.
I told him that I doubt this will work on me, since my mind always starts messing with my instincts or inner convictions.

My mind and my heart are always at war it seems.

A sign from God?

appendix to the last blog entry (so, read the previous post before this):

another thing to consider when/if moving back to Austria is my photography. The question is, how dependent is what I shoot on the fact that I live in NYC?
To me the rough edges of this city is what's appealing. All the irregularities, all the different worlds at odds or in harmony, the grime, the dirt, the ruggedness of the city, the shine, the splendor, and last but not least, the cornucopia of interesting faces to photograph.

What the hell am I going to photograph in freaggin' Vorarlberg? Everything is clean, in order, everyone looks pretty much the same, ...it's "perfect". I'm gonna have to do landscapes...ugh.
Dario says I'm overexaggerating. He validly pointed out that Austria is bordering on 9 countries, that we'll be travelling, and that we don't have to stay in rural Vorarlberg but could move to Vienna, where I - by the way - also got a job-offering (since yesterday). Why are these offers coming in only now? About a month too late?
But really, I don't want to go to Vienna, for then the girls will then just be again another kind of city kids. And if I had to pick, I'd rather have them be NYC kids. Better schools....believe it or not.

I asked God for a sign. And since I don't take in signs very well (too rational) I asked for it to be a strong very clear sign... one slap-me-over-the-head kinda sign.
So I had a dream. It was very short and weird. I dreamed that the tree in front of our building was on fire. Slowly burning.

Then my girlfriend Nadine called me to ask about my decision. I told her about me asking God for a sign (to show me in my dreams) and the strange completely inconclusive dream I then had and she immediately compared it to the burning bush story in the Bible. We had to google it, though, since she couldn't remember if God (speaking from the burning bush) told Moses to go on his journey or to stay put.
Turns out God told Moses to have faith and to lead his people into Egypt (or..wherever...already forgot where to...was it to Egypt or to Israel? anyway, the point is that he told him not to be afraid and to go on this journey.)

Since I don't want to make my final decision based on a dream I would love if God could be a little more clear with his opinion (like an e-mail, or something) ...but that's not going to happen...and I better watch out with my tone here before it turns blasphemic and then I'll have no guidance at all.

So, I'm almost there....and I do have faith...but ya' know...I'm a skeptic.

life-changing decisions are a pain in the a**

so, I'm almost done with this huge project of putting together my graduate application packages (most time-consuming: the portfolio). anyway, ... a few days ago I got an unexpected call-back for a job I applied to in Austria about a month ago. The woman who does the hiring had had a death in the family and so everything had been put on hold for a while. She invited me for an interview, which we did via skype and after an hour-long conversation I was told that I got the job if I want it.
It's a challenging position at a strong webservices company with lots of opportunities. Apparently they had had a lot of applicants...so I am now really in an uncomfortable situation.
By the beginning of the next week I have to decide if we will give up our entire existence here and all move to Austria (within months) or not (which will probably mean never, since Maia is soon to enter school). I have to make a decision to let go of a path I had just -after long consideration- decided on (Graduate School and ultimately a professional life full of art and photography).

It is so hard to make this call.
My friends here say that I shouldn't go back just because of the kids. We would surly be able to provide a secure and positive environment for them here just as well as anywhere else. Some argue that I shouldn't give up my own dreams and that putting my own happiness first will as a result make me a better mother. Others remind me of another potential problem: Is Dario really going to enjoy the house-husband role in Vorarlberg (small, traditional & pretty rural part of Austria)?

I don't know what to do.
One thing I thought of today is this: I've always wondered, how it would be to go back home....and that I should be moving back...especially for the kids...etc. So,.... I could go try it out for a year (ignoring how much work that would be) and if I'm miserable then at least I can finally say I've tried and the thought will stop haunting me.
But what if I get settled there...and I can bear it (I've got pretty strong endurance..no matter how bad the circumstances)...will I then wonder for the rest of my life what if I had not come back home and instead gone to Graduate School to pursue my real dream?

My children are supposed to always come first now .... that's a mother's job ...but sometimes it is really hard to make the call. Which path will be ultimately better for them?
My friend Vern says that kids adapt and that I should stop worrying. They'll be fine either way. Personally he wouldn't want to raise his kids anywhere else but New York City. Let's see what his wife has to say to that (she's German and isn't planning to stay here forever). ;)
But it's true, New York is not like the rest of America. It's very special.

I love New York.

husbands SUCK. they just suck.

I can't believe this.
I just spent the whole evening taking care of three kids. Entertaining them, cooking for them, cleaning up after them, etc. - all while I should have been doing work for an urgent deadline (grad. school application due tomorrow).
A good friend of mine is staying over the weekend (with her kids) and I don't mind the work ...but what upsets me is Dario's complete and utter non-involvement.
When my friend's husband dropped off the kids, Dario didn't budge to go downstairs and help carrying the stuff (carseats, bags, kids, etc.). Instead, he sent me. This is where I draw the line with equality. This is the husband's job. But not in my house. I guess, I'm the one with the pants on. Always have to take charge. It's pissing me off.
Anyway, ... so then he suddenly got really tired and announced he's going to sleep (around 8.30pm). I suppose, he forgot the fact that I was the one who got up with the girls when they both woke up at 4.30am last night. I suppose, when he got up shortly before seven to make it to an exam for a class he'd been taking last semester, he assumed that I continued to sleep while my children dressed and changed themselves, fed themselves breakfast, and such.

My theory is that tonight he just wanted to get out of the work that he anticipated having 4 kids in the house. Lazy bastard. (can you tell I'm fuming?)
Anyway, so ..of course, with so many kids running around his sleep was interrupted a few times, which he actually dared to complain about.
"Excuse me," I said after another one of his complaints, "I have not sat down for hours. No actually, I just did sit down for 2 minutes (and I'm not kidding) to gobble down a sandwich but the rest of the evening I've spent tending children."
In the moments he did get up, he surfed the net, watched TV (behind closed doors, so I wouldn't notice..I suppose)..and here and there he would move a dish from point A to point B to work out his little guilt.

I feel like crying.
How am I going to make it through Graduate School with a support system like this?
I am living with a fucking child. A man is what I need. A MAN, dammit. (and no, that doesn't mean I want to be with other people. It means I want him to grow the fuck up).
He can't tell me he doesn't see how I suffer.
My back is killing me, I am tired, I have a shit-load of work to do, he knows all of this, for I have mentioned it more than once.....and still, he chooses to ignore this. What does this mean? Does this mean he doesn't care or that he is simply being an average guy...trying to avoid another rant of his wife.

I feel like crying. I do.
I'm in a fucked up situation.
Can't live with him ...can't live without him.
aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrggggggggg.

ok. now I have to do work.
Prepare 30 images for my portfolio. It's past midnight. :(
At least I put my foot down about walking the dog. Although, apparently he's mad about that enforced chore now, for he has just closed the door on me without a word of "good-night" or anything.
HOW DARE HE BE MAD AT ME???!!! I am the one who has all rights to be angry tonight. How can he possibly justify his sulk? (is that a word? ..I don't know and I'm too busy to look it up. In fact, I shouldn't even be writing at all...but I had to get this off my chest first.)

I've been exposed (again)

How many blogs are out there? Millions?
My measely little blog has like 3 visitors a week... but somehow, with my luck, one of these visitors works at Dario's job, recognized me and then started telling my husband how much I bitch about him and how I want to be with other people.
Well, thank you very much.
;)
(someone didn't get me. ... I've been w/ D for 10 years... I don't think I could be without him....obviously, whoever recognized me was a man...not a woman.)

Really, I shouldn't be posting my picture on the blog and then be upset when someone recognizes me...but COME ON....millions of blogs....millions of readers....3 pick my crap to look at...and one of them works with my husband. What are the odds???

So, I was about to discontinue my blog again ...and maybe I will...but for now, I'll let it be and think about it. I mean, I want to be anonymous (somewhat) but I put my picture(s) up,...I don't want anyone I know to read my stuff (with one or two exceptions - closest friends in Austria)....but I publish on the World Wide Web. Why don't I just write at home? On my computer. ... I guess, if I think somebody is reading it (even if I don't know who), I don't write as much boring shit I used to write in my regular journals. I can't even re-read those myself...I bore myself to death.
When I write on my blog, I at least write as if someone will be reading this (i.e. I don't ramble about nothing and all the little boring details....except for now maybe).
anyway... I'm thinking about it.
In the end, this is a record for me.

and whoever it is that is telling Dario stuff from this blog: shut up! (and I mean this in the nicest way possible. Show some discretion, please.) Men really are bigger gossip aunts than women. It's terrible.

I told D he could read my blog, but really...why would he want to? It reads like a really long rant about my husband's short-comings. Why would he want to expose himself to that? Writing is therapeutic for me ...this is my vent.... so really, it is not for him to read. He shall have my positive input. He gets enough regular face-to-face bitching, ...no need to get written reinforcement of my opinions.

where am I?

In case you're wondering why I haven't posted in a while, I've been busy-busy preparing for Graduate School. Everytime I do want to write it is to bitch about D, and I feel like that's an old story (but it will be coming back, nevertheless).

:) until then,
take care & carpe diem!
s.

W.I.C.O.E. (Women In Charge of Everything) class schedule

Since I seem to not find the time to write on my blog lately (->am preparing applications to go to Graduate School), I am putting up this quite funny fwd a friend sent to me:

W.I.C.O.E.(Women In Charge Of Everything) is proud to announce the opening of its EVENING CLASSES FOR MEN! OPEN TO MEN ONLY
Note: due to the complexity and level of difficulty, each course will accept a maximum of eight participants. Topics covered in this 2-day course include:
DAY ONE

HOW TO FILL ICE CUBE TRAYS
Step by step guide with slide presentation

TOILET ROLLS -- DO THEY GROW ON THE HOLDERS?
Roundtable discussion

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN LAUNDRY BASKET & FLOOR
Practicing with hamper (Pictures and graphics)

DISHES & SILVERWARE; DO THEY LEVITATE/FLY TO KITCHEN SINK OR DISHWASHER BY THEMSELVES?
Debate among a panel of experts.

REMOTE CONTROL
Losing the remote control - Help line and support groups

LEARNING HOW TO FIND THINGS
Starting with looking in the right place instead of turning the house upside down while screaming for help - Open forum

DAY TWO

EMPTY MILK CARTONS; DO THEY BELONG IN THE FRIDGE OR THE BIN?
Group discussion and role play

HEALTH WATCH; BRINGING HER FLOWERS IS NOT HARMFUL TO YOUR HEALTH
PowerPoint presentation

REAL MEN ASK FOR DIRECTIONS WHEN LOST
Real life testimonial from the one man who did

IS IT GENETICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO SIT QUIETLY AS SHE PARALLEL PARKS?
Driving simulation

LIVING WITH ADULTS; BASIC DIFFERENCES BETWEEN YOUR MOTHER AND YOUR PARTNER
Online class and role playing

HOW TO BE THE IDEAL SHOPPING COMPANION
Relaxation exercises, meditation and breathing techniques

REMEMBERING IMPORTANT DATES & CALLING WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE
Bring your calendar or PDA to class

GETTING OVER IT; LEARNING HOW TO LIVE WITH BEING WRONG ALL THE TIME
Individual counselors available

;)

time management issues

I'm in a time management class this week, which I had actually scheduled for Dario months ago but he couldn't make it. I had reminded him about it at least 15 times within the past 3 weeks in forms of post-it notes, e-mails, messages on the shopping list, etc. etc. .... maybe he became desensitized and that's why he forgot.
Anyway, so as not to waste the money already spent on it, I joined the course myself. Was about an hour late for class, so maybe it won't be such a bore for me after all. More ironic, however, do I find the instructor's complete and utter lack of time & productivity relation. Every word in the course notes she highlights, then she makes us work in groups to answer simple sets of 3 questions but allots about 20 minutes to each set so I end up having to fill most of the remaining time making small talk with this older Russian programmer, which seems like a really nice man, if only I could understand what the hell he's saying. After having discussed the 3 questions (which seem to appear every few pages in a very similar form) in a dyad ad nauseum, she then has us all repeat our answers to the class, which is then followed by a recap and interpretation of our responses. What is the point of that? Can't I just tell you my answer right away? And when are you going to stop analyzing me ( I know why I'm here: I can't manage time) and give me some proven systems to handle the problem?

Dario says he won't make it to class tomorrow either, so I have to put in another day...
this sucks.

sisi...you need a better attitude...
... I'm working on it....but don't worry, you won't see it here (on this blog)...this will remain the bitchin' spot. ;)

just another rant

One of my friends pointed out to me - after an e-mail I sent containing actual praise for Dario and something about how much I truly appreciate his love - that my blog would make one wonder, why I stay with this man.

Well, first of all ... I wonder that myself...all the time....but truly, there is more important shit than the daily annoyances. His love is important, his embraced responsibility of fatherhood, his understanding and his "always letting me be".

But this blog isn't about that. This is my venting spot and I came here to bitch. And so here my inevitable rant:
I went to the movies tonight. Usually, I feel so grateful that I get to go out and D stays with the kids, I forget that he wouldn't leave the house regardless. So, when I come home I am ok with walking the dog, even though it usually is a rather late hour.
Today, however, when I rode up the elevator with Rosa, I announced my great dread of still having to walk the dog in this cold, late night and she reminded me of something I wouldn't even have noticed.
She said, you know, I can't believe this. Today, before we left, I asked Dario why he couldn't just get one of the boys to come downstairs for a few minutes so he could walk the dog. Your wife has had a long day, took the kids out, came home, did the dishes, cleaned up, fed the kids, bathed them, and put them to bed. The least you could do is walk the dog for her, man.
- Oh, I'm just getting over a cold... is what he answered. I guess, that didn't matter when he spent hours out earlier, running personal errands.
See, this is why I am glad I'm not living with anyone else, Rosa said, I know it's just me and I don't have to expect anything from anyone.
- Well, if you wouldn't have pointed it out, I wouldn't have expected anything either, I said, thanks, now I'm kinda pissed.

Of course, when I then took the dog out, he peed in the elevator (he never has any accidents but he is on some sort of allergy medicine and should be walked more frequently during its administration). With my luck, there was someone with me in the elevator and now it looks like I'm the one who lets her dog urinate in the building and doesn't clean up after him.
I had to rush T out, so the witness couldn't witness me wiping up the mess. sigh.
Needless to say, it didn't help my frustration with Dario's indolence as I was cleaning up dog urine for 15 minutes. When I finally took off my coat, put down the rubber gloves and the antibacterial wipes the clock read 1:30 a.m. I stood there in the living room for a minute, taking in the mess of the house and finally I walked into the bedroom to wake Dario just to tell him that I think he's taking advantage of me. If he doesn't do it, I'll have to do it and he knows that,.. so he is totally exploiting this simple and sad reality I create.

ok. 2 a.m. ... a million things to do. have to work on my grad school essay, decide on portfolio pieces, prepare milk for baby's next waking, take a shower, and tidy up the bathroom mess from my earlier bathing of the kids.
I'm not proof-reading today. too tired. gotta go.

cruel honesty

so, I'm slaving in the kitchen for an hour, whining and crying kids hanging on my pantlegs, trying to prepare a half-way decent meal with one little hot-plate and the miniversion of the Foreman- grill (we still have no gas). Then I clean the table, prepare the kids' plates (cute arrangements, bite-sized cut meat, etc. - whatever one needs to endure to make one's children eat) and the first comment out of Maia's mouth is:
- Mo-oom.
- yes.
- ehm. the meat tastes like....curtain.

The analogy was so amusing to me that I really wasn't all that insulted. I was more curious about the origin of this comparison. "And how would you know? Ever tried curtain before?"
- "No," she said. "Then eat up," I ordered ...and then with a bit of reconsideration and pity: "You can have some ketchup if you would like to."

what is life for? epiphanies at 1 a.m.

I am always, always wondering ... like we probably all are... why it is that

a) I believe in God (i.e. is it real belief or is it fabricated through social conditioning? is it me and my emotions, which sometimes create these physical encounters I interpret as a small sign of God saying something like: "hey, it's me. just in case you were wondering where I've been."?

b) if God exists, why is it that so much bad happens in this world and how do people manage to stay faithful to God in situations far worse than we could ever imagine (e.g. civilians in warzones, people struck by terrible fates, illnesses, etc.) ?

To the latter question I come up with plausible explanations once in a while. Not always do I write them down but tonight's thought struck me rather hard and I just had to write it down to get it out of my system.
What if we are just not meant to be happy and blissful in this life? What if that is just an added little bonus given to us in a special way... unconnected to all material values in this world and thus attainable for us all (if we just figure out how). Everyone knows the saying "happiness comes from within" .....
So, what if life is really not meant to be all that great?
This is, of course, a rather depressing thought and maybe I've just spent too much time in the city.

Today, on my way home, I suddenly found myself in the middle of a police-car chase (gunfire in the distance and all), watched an undercover cop put his knee into some guy's neck to handcuff him, and then was forced to back up an entire street (against the one-way direction), almost losing my mirror to one of the police-cars racing by me.
As I was walking the dog later, a bit depressed about the human darkness (yeah, watching Harry Potter tonight didn't help either), I thought hmm, and this isn't even that bad. What about the people in Afghanistan, in Sudan, in Iraq, wherever, ... that's where it really sucks...and what do you do then? When you're trapped in a situation like that? Your children, your family dying around you? People killing each other on a daily basis? How do you find God then? ............ God, ...it really must suck being God. ....... it's hard to keep everyone happy.... So, that's when the thought sprang to mind that this might not be the objective.
Maybe we are here to learn. Learn to help each other. .... But, somehow I'm not seeing that this plan is working....so maybe that isn't the plan. ....ugh...humans suck. ...most of them, anyway.
So, can't you tell me how I could help [in this world] more efficiently? ...I mean, that can't be it, can it? A couple of donations here and there....trying to be a good person..... that can't be all? That's a mighty measly contribution I am making here. Is this all I am here for? Come on, use me.
I am willing to make sacrifices.
And then I thought about the graveness of my easy talk. How much am I really willing to sacrifice? How self-less am I really? Donating money & time is easy.... ..... I am just another human.....

...

my $236 tunafish panini

I am tired of the city. tired tired tired.

Tuesday, Dario and I took the day off for various errands. In the morning, however, we both took Maia for a fitting at The Gap (I'm trying to get her discovered for TV or something, so somebody else can pay for her college tuition...well, I guess, if she'd land a commercial that somebody would be she herself. I'm just not sure how much longer I can deal with these auditions, though. ugh. I'm just not the type for this kind of activity.) Anyway, on our way back up, Maia fell asleep in the car, and I asked D to pull over by this sandwich shop, which -as I just recently discovered - makes the best tunafish salad panini I've ever tasted (and I don't even like tuna).

So, I go in and order. While I am waiting for my sandwich (forever), I see a police car pull over next to our van. I watch as the female officer, packed in a heavy orange rain-coat, steps out and begins writing a ticket. Now granted, we are standing in a busstop, I am surprised that Dario seems to put up no fight so I run outside and ask why she isn't just making him leave. He's sitting behind the wheel and the engine is running. The whole point of him waiting in the car is that he can move in case a bus comes or a traffic-cop.
"This is a bus-stop," she says unimpressed by my plea.
"But we can move right now...it's not like we're parked here," I argue and then notice that Dario is on the phone with his laptop steadied on the wheel, completely ignoring the officer.
"You can tell that to my supervisor," she replies as she clips the $115 ticket behind my windshield wiper.
I sigh, see that there is no point in arguing and walk back into the store to see after my panini.
It still isn't done and I shoot the guy behind the counter a questioning look.
"It's coming. It's coming," he says with an obvious understanding that the kitchen is sure taking a long time with this damn sandwich.
Finally, someone hands me the bag with my lunch and Dario's tea. I turn around and as I step out the store I notice another cop car pulling over next to our van.
I speed up and yell, "we're moving, we're moving!"
"Can't stand here," says one of them as I look to Dario slightly panicking. I can't believe my eyes. He is still on the phone and the laptop is still on. He seems to make no motion to move.
I pull open the door to the driver's side and tell him to move over. It is raining harder now.
"You have to move this car!" shouts the other officer.
"Hold on," I say,"We're going. We're going!" I turn to Dario, "Move over! Get off the phone. What are you doing??" D is unimpressed, steps out of the car and as he is walking over to the passenger's side, still with the phone to his ear, he pulls the ticket off the windshield and tosses it in front of the police car.
"That's it", says the officer behind the wheel, "I'm giving you a ticket!"
And that's when I lost my cool. "No," I cry as I actually try to physically hold back the cop who has stepped out to write another ticket, "we just got a ticket! I don't have money for another one!!!" The panic and whine in my voice, as well as the oncoming tears are embarrassing and I step back immediately to shut up and compose myself. This is how easily things can get of hand, I think, amazing how fast this can go.
It's just a ticket, I tell myself trying to get back my cool, get over it. But I am having a hard time getting the fact out of my mind that we have only a few hundred dollars left on our account with plenty of bills still to be paid.

$236 dollars for a panini, I think, as I receive my ticket with as much grace as I can muster. Now I am a true New Yorker.

one hit after the other

People around me haven't really shown themselves from their best sides lately. Everyday I seem to be able to add another one to the pile of "humans I've been screwed over by".
Today, it is the hair-stylist who gave me the best haircut I've had in years.
I should be happy but I can't get over the fact that she actually totally screwed me.
A few months ago, a good friend of mine gave me a spa certificate he bought, after some promo-girl from this Aveda spa had approached us having lunch in the park. He gave it to me as a birthday present, and I was quite excited about the fact that for 50 bucks I was going to get 4 visits to this spa/salon, which that PR girl was praising (note to myself AGAIN: if it sounds too good to be true you will be screwed one way or the other.)
So, finally...this week I had time to make an appointment, and I picked the haircut voucher for my first visit. When I called, I was told just bring 10 dollars for the service fee.
Ok, I think, can't be totally free.

However, once I got there and sat down on the chair to be consulted by the hair stylist, she tried to talk me into coloring, highlighting, vitamin-soaking, whatever to which I replied that I do not have much money...am willing to spend maybe another 30 or 40 bucks on adding color and to please refrain from any other cost-adding activities. I'm just happy to get a free haircut.

I was so happy that I actually, for the first time in a long time, had the desire to have a real talk with someone I do not know. Usually when I go to the hairdresser, I am not interested in talking since I hate small-talk and a real conversation is difficult, for it requires an openness and true interest I have long lost. However, today was different. I really wanted to listen and I asked question after question. So, after a few minutes the girl who worked on my hair finally opened up and gave up the small-talk to switch to a real conversation. I listened to her, I exchanged opinions, told her about my life and about my current struggles (and this is something I usually don't do with strangers...unless, you're counting this blog;)).
In the beginning of this conversation of ours(before we got to other topics than hair) I must have mentioned my financial hardship at least 2 or 3 times. I also threw in once or twice how I got this certificate as a present, how I usually just cut my hair like once a year and how I used to get my hair done for 10 bucks up on Dykman and 207th.

So, when she then, after presenting me with the best haircut I've ever received, wrote me a bill for $175 (!!!), I was dumbstruck. I didn't even know what to say. She put me in such a spot that I just found it impossible to argue. I am such a sucker that way. As much as I can bitch, be nice to me and I just can't switch over that quickly.
But, ..I thought...the coloring is like 40-50 bucks extra, I said weakly.
Yes, but I gave you a full head of highlights and that's 120, the girl said.
I have never had highlights done so when she smooth-talked me into it before the cut and didn't mention the difference in price, I was sold. It hurt, I must say, for I remember distinctly pointing out how I do not want to pay more than that extra charge for the color in that same pre-cut conversation during which she advised me to get a few highlights.

Now, what do you do in such a situation? You're standing in a busy hairsalon. You've just received an amazing haircut in addition to having spent an hour and a half talking very nicely and openly with this person who is now screwing you over.

And she knew that she was doing wrong, too. She was trying to justify it in all kinds of ways, she even gave me gift-certificates for my next visit. She just wouldn't shut up and suddenly everything she said seemed insincere (oh, you look great...you look like you're twenty-five now). Ehm, was that supposed to be a compliment? I have no problem being 31. I don't look old. 30 is not old...but I remember how it was when I was 26...30 always seemed like the land of no return...the end of my youth, whatever...so I guess, she (as a 26-year old) was just trying to say something she thought I wanted to hear. sigh.

Rosa, who accompanied me, told me to just let it go. I never spend much on myself and it's ok to splurge once in a while. All I kept thinking was that I do not have this kind of money. I have kids to feed, bills to pay, and a 230 dollar parking ticket on my record from yesterday.
But really, I realized, it wasn't the money. It was the fact that I had once again seen the ugly face of the city-dweller. I won't let anyone else in, anymore, I said to Rosa. I'm going to become bitter and go into recluse. What is wrong with people? Why is everyone trying to screw everyone?

I'm being censored

some people are writing me hate-mails in response to my blogs, so I'm taking it down a notch, have deleted my last entry, and am considering to close shop AGAIN and rebuild somewhere else, where I can finally be free. And this time I won't share the damn thing with anyone. One snitch is enough and the anonymity of this blogspot is gone.
This is my personal page. I can write and bitch about whatever I want but as soon as I open it to someone I know I have responsibilities. People are offended quite easily ... and I understand since I am quite defensive myself. Shit, I wish I'd care less. Dario's state of mind is like my ultimate goal in life. To just give a shit. That's true bliss. ;)

Unfortunately, I think too much.
And I've once again been stabbed in the back by someone I thought was my friend. (I'm not prepared for this shit. I come from a small town in Austria. There was no Highschool grouping, no ostracizing, whatever school-kids do here to kill each other's confidence and trust in each other.)
I won't go into the details, for I would like to forget about this as soon as possible but since this happened to me before, I know it will take a while. I just care too much.
This time it's actually worse. My reputation has been totally dragged through the mud. Someone tried to twist my discretion into a case of dishonesty and I ended up looking like a fool.

One of the things I've learned: don't trust anyone....and... people are childish.
And this is why I need to leave this place soon. If I can make it at all possible, I will get out of here, for I believe this is going to happen again and I will become a bitter person who can't find trust in friendships anymore.
If any of my real friends here could read this right now they'd probably slap me upside down the head. Of course, I have a couple of really great, honest people I can count on as my friends, however, I either close up now to all future possible friendships or I leave. I'm not taking that risk of opening up again. When I give friendship I am prepared to give all I have. This is why it hurts so much when it turns out to be a fake.

I'm serious about leaving. I just don't know how feasible it will be. First thing, I have to find an affordable flight (did you hear about the new post-911 government fee? I tried to book a ticket to Austria for about 300.- including all regular taxes and then when I tried to check-out they added a 500.- govt. fee to the price!!! When will I ever be able to afford to get my whole family home for a visit?) Anyway....I'm trying not to think about that right now. I can start my job-search in Vienna via the internet.

I don't know if anything will be better....politics suck over there, as well...plenty of people are stuck-up or right-winged or whatever else can piss one off ...but,... as I've said before (oh, I deleted that entry) ... at least, you know what you're getting. If they're gonna be nice they're gonna be nice, if they're gonna be assholes they're gonna be assholes pretty much from the beginning. There is no pretense.

I need to find a place of peace.
Maybe I just need to be away from the city...
Can you tell I'm on a low?
It's been a bad bad day.

PS: I've turned off commenting to avoid any more impulsive hate messages from certain cholerics. sigh. If you would like to comment on any of my crap ...feel free to e-mail me.
Maybe there is someone who could tell me that it isn't like that here everywhere in America. And maybe they could tell me EXACTLY where that place is so I can move there.
Obviously, I also like living in the U.S. ....why else, would I have stuck around for so long. I like the diversity of this country, how far people have come, what kind of differences people have made here; I love the landscapes, the fact that I can hop into my car and go from ocean, to mountains, to deserts and to drylands and don't even have to bring my passport (although, nowadays one better carry i.d....after all, I am half-Syrian. ;) ..... my father, who's just come back from visiting home (Syria) tells me that the people on the street are scared over there. They are scared the Americans are going to level them as they have done elsewhere in the Middle-East. This is sad to hear.

Someone told me I might have a superiority complex ...always talking bad about America and praising Europe. Obviously, this person does not know me very well. First of all, I bitch at any government there is...and wherever I see injustice or wrongdoing. When I'm in Austria, I'm actually more upset at the politicians than here, for it is "my country"....I kinda feel responsible for the shit they talk. Half my youth I spent on demonstrations and platforms, writing articles and joining vigils, all in protest of the right-winged party of the government.
And when it comes to bitching about people then know that I usually defend my adopted home (or rather, its individuals) when it is being attacked by anyone I know back home...and that's pretty much everyone by now (thank you, Mr. Bush) ..... but I know better than to throw everyone in one pot....I have friends here, ...I have come to understand the culture of small-talk, I can usually spot superficiality ... nevertheless I'm still lost sometimes.

the story with the gas-leak

So, Con-Edison came to read the gas meter yesterday and decided that they smelled gas and must cut off all supply of the latter for the next few months!!!! There are over 70 apartments in this building. Granted, I myself could probably survive just fine on microwaveable foods and sandwiches (I already do most of the time), we need to cook for the kids.... and Thankgiving is around the corner...and X-mas....no dinner invitations this year (Dario probably considers this a lucky side-effect for the lack of a better word....I'm too lazy/tired to look up a synonym...an the battery on my laptop is on 2%...so I might lose all if I keep writing much longer.)

The thing is, I've been told by my neighbors that people have been smelling gas in this building for over 20 years. Unfortunately, now that Con-Ed knows, they can't risk getting sued (in case we blow up), so they just turned off the gas to cover their asses. We (since this is a co-op) get stuck with having to deal with trying to fix this. First estimates 100,000-200,000. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh.I see a huge assessment heading my way. This sucks.

I remember, before we bought this place, I specifically asked the managing agent whether she'd anticipate the already unusually high maintenance to go up any time soon.
No way, she said... I haven't raised it in 5 years...you should be fine for a while.
HA, ...the damn maintenance went up before we even moved in. Since then it has again risen and is now about to be completely blown out of proportion. aaaaahhhhhhh. I DON't HAVE MONEYYYYYYYYY. Stop giving me bills, everybodyyyyyyy!

....and Rosa tells me they're going to turn off the heat, too....and they might be breaking some walls...

things that upset me today

• situation in France and poor, one-sided news coverage (without deeper understanding/analysis)....[finally got something worth listening to at NPR]
• situation in Jerusalem and the way people hate each other all under the name of God(whatever happened to "thou shalt love thy neighbor" or however that goes in English?)
• who's going to be NY major and why ... money and ad-campaigns should be kept out of politics. I was always convinced that ads for politicians lead to corruption (corruption of the politician for he/she must suddenly adhere to PR-rules, and can never admit to wrong-doings [i.e. must lie], for this can be used against him in smear-campaigns of opponents and corruption of the public mind, for they'll buy anything if just presented well enough.)
• most TV-news stations and their ads (with all the super-sensationalist cuts and sounds) and the sad fact that the mass won't watch if they don't do it that way.
• people judging you ( "Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not notice the log in your own")
• how many freaking people are trafficking the city at any given moment. (note: sometimes I love that fact but today I hate it.)
• that I seem to not be able to get a grip on the amount of work I am supposed to do.
• the fact that I have had a tooth-ache since September and keep on going back to the same dentist because I think the problem is me - i.e. my stupid, non-cooperative teeth (MOVE ON already!)
  

...of course, there is more that I think and worry about every day...like world hunger, and people killing or prostituing innocent children, and corruption and self-fishness and just everything but my list wouldn't end and I wouldn't be able to live and appreciate my life....or maybe this is exactly why I am able to appreciate the things I have this much. I am not rich but I have all I need and even though I'm no part of a religion anymore I know God has been good to me and I'm thankful for that. I don't understand how he/she/whatever works and how I get to be lucky as opposed to an innocent but suffering child in the Sudan for example. ...Maybe it really is all karma...and we do have many lives...and whoever I was before has behaved really nicely. Otherwise this whole world is just too random at times. Then again,...it's not that random....since that child in Sudan wouldn't have to suffer if all the people in the world (or even just in its country) would spread their fortune, their knowledge, everything they have .... I wonder what world this would be if mankind would suddenly lose all selfish and malignant thoughts? Maybe it would create an impossible world with new and different problems but I sure would love to see it.

what's up with the drama in my head?

very disturbing dreams tonight:
first Maia ran away from me as I was trying to get baby out of the car (in a parking lot) and got hit by a car. It wasn't a very bad hit, since it was A) in a parking lot and B) the car almost made it to a stop but, of course, Maia was crying ..and she started bleeding a bit out of her nose and her mouth. So, I wanted to tell the driver not to worry but it seemed like he didn't anyway since he threw in the rear-gear and backed away from us. I was outraged and started running after him, Maia crying in my arms. When I reached his car, as he was waiting to get out of the driveway of the lot, I shouted:
"I can't believe you're going to pull off a hit&run!... It might be nothing but I just want your insurance info in case there are any medical costs.... If you pull away, I'm going to sue you!"
No reaction. Just panic in his and his passenger's eyes. He continued backing up. "I have your license plate number. I will find you!" I shouted angrily. And then they got out of the car. The passenger pulled a gun from the inside of his jacket. Oh, shit...I guess, getting shot is worse than having to pay for Maia's concussion, I thought, let's get outta here. So, I started running. I don't remember if they opened fire, I don't remember if I got shot in the back. All I want to know is why my brain is working up so much drama, especially if one considers the following dream-sequence in which I am in my house's hallway (not really my house but in my dream it is) and I hear a choking and coughing. I push open the swinging door to the kitchen. Nayla is sleeping in a toddler bed, which is standing in the middle of the room. Her body is arching upward, her eyes are closed, her toes are curling...it's as if she is possessed. I am in panic. Should I be calling a doctor or an exorcist? I call Dario. I wake up.

Needless to say, I had no problem facing my very real and unexciting morning with lots of crappy housework to do.

it's 3pm and I'm still in my Pajamas

ok. maybe I should be the one visiting that Time Management Course I signed Dario up for.

So, what did I do today. I don't want to do the log-format. Too much work, and I don't have time...gotta finish up some work, get dressed, vacuum and mop this sticky floor (you know there is no more procrastinating when your slippers get stuck on every corner of the house), go get my student-i.d. (5 weeks after my class started - I am taking Yoga...made it to class twice so far), pick up Maia from pre-school, ...oh and I don't even want to think about all the webprojects I have to do tonight....

Ok, so I just explained all that's ahead for the rest of the day when I opened my paragraph up there with the indication that I will write down all that I did so far....so...hmm,...well, there is not that much. Got up 7.30, Dario was off today and for some reason he thought it would be fair if he slept in instead of me. It was too early for me to find a logical counter-argument other than "that's not fair!", so I just let it be and got my butt out of bed. A glance on the calendar told me that I had (for some strange and inexplicable reason) signed up for parents-international-cook-week at Maia's school and was thus expected to bring in a home-cooked (typical Austrian) dish. Since I didn't want to appear as pathetic as last year when I brought in two packs of butter-cookies, claiming that the manufacturers are originally from Austria (...although, Leibniz is a German company, isn't it?..well, didn't matter since it was a pretty sad attempt of being a participating parent regardless of any of my excuses).
So, in addition to having to take care of the kids this morning (make breakfast, get them dressed, etc.), I had to also cook something. Since I am not really that often in the kitchen nowadays, the only thing I could think of was to throw a bunch of frozen veggies on the stove, steam them and then blend them into a big pot of soup which I named "Special Spongebob Super Soup". I've learned a long time ago that Maia will be much more inclined to eat things which she usually wouldn't (e.g. vegetables or fruits) if we blend them into an indiscernible paste and name it something cool (e.g. Mulan juice, PrincessMermaid soup, etc.).

When Dario got up he moved straight to the computer. Hellooooo.... help anyone??
Anyway he then left to take his mother to the eye-doctor.
Once the kids were out of the house (thankfully, Rosa volunteered to take Maia to school), I skipped getting dressed (for what?) and settled down in the office to start working only to realize that something must have died in the walls. A mouse? The smell was so bad that I had to open both windows and apply every deodorized spray I have in the house. And here I still sit, in front of my computer, my back hurting from not having moved from my chair except to pee and to make coffee.

ok, I have to go.

how compliments change when you're in a relationship

Today Dario finished work early and picked me up from the dentist. We grabbed a bite of food and he spent half the meal telling me about other women he has recently met or seen, one being a particularly gorgeous piece of a** (he didn't say this. I am simplifying). If I were to do this I would hear jealous/stupid comments for days.

Anyway, I probably wouldn't mind so much if he would be able to produce a couple of nice compliments for his own wife during the course of the evening.

Instead, this is what he produced:
On the subway, as we are standing close to each other sharing very little space because of the rush hour, he leans over and says: You are such a monkey. Then he smiles lovingly as if he just told me how beautiful I look today.
I say nothing, trying to remember that he is just goofy that way and doesn't realize how wrong some of his thoughtless comments sound. (Also, he tells me often enough how "sexy" he finds me....whatever...these things come over his lips easily...to anyone.... but recently he's been a bit mean to me...)

When we got home and I got out of the car to wait at the crosswalk, a ride with two cute guys slowed down, blocking traffic just to check me out.
I must be getting old, since this actually flattered me. So I turned over to Dario, who was just locking up his car and told him all happy: Hey, I just got checked out!! :)
That doesn't surprise me, he says.
Really? I ask fishing for a compliment from my husband. Why?
You're a girl and you're not fat. So naturally you're getting checked out all the time.
This is were I drew the line in my tolerance for Dario - he's just a man. I was mad and he did not get why. Does anyone get why I would be mad? ....Or maybe he did get it, and he just said it out of jealousy. As mentioned before, he doesn't handle it very well when I am the one discussing other men regardless of how harmless and unimportant the encounter.

....I don't know why I got him laid tonight. He so didn't deserve that. But I think, nowadays I would consider sex-withholding more like a punishment for myself, so I definitely don't think about it the same way as I used to. Before it used to be like this "sacred" act, the mood, the setting, everything had to be perfect, Dario had to not have fucked up for at least 24 hours, and the slightest sound could have thrown me off. I thank my strict religious upbringing for this very dysfunctional attitude towards sex. And I thank my New York girlfriends (most of them younger and much more aggressive and open-minded) for bringing my mind up to date and seeing sexuality in a much more natural way.

(excuse my English today. It is 2.45am. I've been up since 7.am this morning. All I wanted to do is back up a couple of my images, since my laptop tells me I am running out of space. However, of course, any little project always turns into some great undertaking for me. Apparently I have 22,000 images in my Picture folder. I systematically filed and named them, then dragged the first part over to a blank DVD and deleted the originals. And now the DVD doesn't want to burn. aaaaaaahrg.)