Teaching is not just getting a job

So a couple of days ago I received a message from Selena to me and Sasha communicating us that the plea to get us with our diploma into a ranking to get a teacher job was open, if we wanted apply (and she mentioned we should) we had to write to a specific organization and start saving money for the trial, minimum to apply was something about 1000 EUR.

It started a long conversation between Selena and Sara about who to call, how to apply, where to find the money and when they should be sent. I stayed silent for a while then told them that beside the fact I don’t give a shit about teaching, it looked to me a little pricey to apply for something without even being sure it would work (after all you start with a thousand and don’t know where you arrive…and if we think about the fact both of them do not have a job…it is more than just pricey).

Selena answered “I agree but this is the only chance to get into the school world”. I almost choke and answered that “yes it might be the only chance but you have to think about the fact both of you are over thirty never had a unique chance to teach and stopped studying something like 15 years ago, how can you think – in case you will ever succeed with this bullshit – to start all over again and go into a class to teach something?”. Sara agreed with me but added “yes but at least we can get a job and have a revenue from this diploma we have”, Serena added “plus it is your right to get into the ranking with your diploma”.

Some history: the three of us went to the teaching school for different reasons but NONE of us went there for a passion in becaming a teacher, we wanted an easy way to get a piece of paper after school to find a job or our parents didn’t send us to the artistic school which was what we liked or it was just the less bad school closeby home…or the three of them together. At the time we started with that school, five years of studying was enough to became a teacher, today you also need a university degree. We have been the last year with that chance but the politics made it difficult and that’s why a part of people with that diploma are today teachers and another part are not and cannot teach anything.

So I continued saying that if they want to have a public job they can enter the ranking for the post offices not in the school because at least they don’t go to ruin children due to their lack of passion (and let me tell you also culture. Serena might have been an average student, with some smartness in a couple of topics but Sasha was never brilliant at school and has even been flunk out one year!). According to Selena every job can be learnt and you would have time to get yourself ready. To me this is just bullshit, as a teacher you don’t just have to actually teach something you have to transmit love for studying and passion about knowledge and getting a method for some students is not easy.

A long conversation started about our old teachers and we disagreed about the passionated ones and those to be considered good (of course they didn’t like these ones I liked because these teachers were a little bit rude…with them) then I abandoned the conversation because I had enough of discussing and obviously my point of view was not agreed and never would have been.

Unfortunately Italy it is still a place where the kind of job you do matters. If you studied to be a teacher you MUST at least enter the ranking and trying to get the job, even if you were a donkey at school, you never taught anything to anybody in your life and you don’t give a shit about school.

I’m sorry if I’m so naive to say that if one of them would got into my son’s school I would move the kid to another institute because I know them and they are the classic example of doing a job just for the masses. To make your parents happy, to show off that you made it, to say I’m a teacher instead of I’m a waitress. And by the way I have been a waitress as well, and it is a decent, honest job, maybe not well paid but leaving you plenty of free time and getting you to know a lot of people and to come back home tired but with a better feeling than most of nowadays’ office jobs.

Sakura. I’m back.

Today I went out for a walking with Spartaco and I’ve been fascinated from the fall of pink petals from a cherry tree. Hypnotized from that kind of Sakura, I thought about this blog that I wasn’t touching since a while and decided once home, to start all over again with it.

Slightly more than one year has passed from last post I published and yet so many things happened in my life that made me a completely different person from the one I was.

SakuraI relocated to the Netherlands.

I bought an house.

I had a baby.

I have been happy for the past months.

It is not the case that the girl fancing about Budapest disappeared. She just grew up I guess, and fall in love once more with her beautiful baby child. I have some many ideas in my mind for great posts, quite different from what this virtual space used to be. I think the time of complaining and having pity of myself is over. I’m looking forward to more spring days and more cherry trees with beautiful flowers.

It is not yet time to discover the topics I want to cover, this is meant to be just a “coo-coo post” to greet you all once again. It rained hardly today, but now the sun is shining again and my back garden is covered in petals. I love it.

See you all in the next weeks.



Dog therapy for a bad person. Or dog friendship when human one is missing.

I’m working hard not to get mad and not to complain about everything. I’m saying what I think to people and I’m trying to master BeFunky_null_1.jpgthe fine art of ‘Let it go, live and let live’. It is a huge effort from my side…but I’m doing it and sometimes it brings me to concentration issues and mental wanks that I share with myself.

I finally decided to move back to the Netherlands, the relocation will happen at the end of March and I should be happy about that but I’m not entirely. I mean , I’m happy I can keep working, I’m happy to be back to the future, where nights are not so dark like here, where I don’t have to load myself with firewood for the fireplace if I want to stay warm and I don’t have to be bothered by the sound of a fake bell all days and last but not least where I’m quite free to move and do whatever I want even without a car.

What makes me unhappy about this is the fact that I failed my project of coming back here in Italy. Truth is, I could actually be a bad person but I don’t like any of the people around me. I see people more interested in looking at their mobiles, going hunting in 2014 as if we still are cavemen and speaking about Mussolini or Hitler as if they actually were very nice persons. I see people interested in being ‘social’ when they barely say ‘hi’ when you meet them in real life. I see my father still getting up at 4am and be more interested in the work he should not supposed to be doing anymore instead than being home with his family, and I see my mother worried about it and nobody says anything about that. When I try nobody listens.

I’m frustrated every Friday and Saturday evening since months because the few friends I have are more interested in being outside in some ugly disco bar instead than being around a table to just talk for a minute about how our life are. About how we are. They tell me, “For you it is easy because you have a boyfriend so you don’t have to go around to pick up boys”. It is true, I don’t have to pick up boys. But also I do think sometimes it is good to slow down. Sometimes we could go dancing and sometimes we could just stay home. And sometimes I also think that some of them should stay home pretending to teach some good manners to their progeny instead of being in some club to pick up boys.


Maybe I’m just getting old. Maybe I should go to one of those people paid to shut up and just listen, but I reached the moment of my life where I can see things quite clearly, I see them and understand them and even see some connections…but I don’t know in which direction  I have to move to find the serenity I’m looking for. I would like to help my family, and I would like to keep my job, to stay home and to leave.


I would like to enjoy talking with my friends but truth is I like to discuss only with some of my contacts abroad: people I’m not seeing since a life (I never met a couple of them, they are just ‘friends I have online’). Real people around me are more busy with bullshit I don’t understand or care about.

The only friend I like to be with right now is my dog. I know this may sound stupid. But when it arrives that time of the day when I get mad, I’m home alone, I start talking with myself aksing and replying things. I start walking all around the house getting mad about things happening around…the only living being I like to have around is my dog Spartaco. He stares at me, mouth sligthly open and doesn’t do anything. He just looks at me waiting for me to stop. When I’m done he does two things first he shows his belly so that I can cuddle him, then goes and bring me the tennis ball so that I can just relax with him. That would be something I would expect from my friends, but apparently you cannot have everything in your life.

New Year, new complains and looking forward…or else “The Wedding”

I was trying to keep myself quiet for a while. I made the decision to come back to the NL and I am preparing for the relocation once again. For this reason I thougt one of my wishes for the new year should have been “to quit complaining about everything”: basically I needed more ‘live and let live’ in my life. The stress of the relocation anyway isn’t helping me that much in this purpose.


Let’s start from ‘The Wedding’. My unique cousin from mother side is going to get married on the 1st of June. So now the fact that I’m moving at the end of March caused a big deal and my 94-years-old grandma got worried that i could not partecipate to my “unique-cousin-from-mother-side-wedding”. It is going to be a great event where all the people look at you and comment on how you are dressed and whether you actually went to the airdresser or not. And of course there will be ton of people asking me when I’m getting married.

Can you imagine how happy I am to be back for such a bullshit? Anyway I don’t want to get the family worried because I’, going to miss my “unique-cousin-from-mother-side-wedding”..plus I thought I could take the chance to bring some stuff with me for the relocation. So I accepted to come back for this event. Last Thursday our friends Ady and Marty called us for a beer out. It started like an awkward night out. We ordered a beer, discussed about nothing for almost half an hour when they dropped the news that they were getting married – thanks Lord for such great gifts you deliver me every day– on the 1st of June.

Holy shit is this a conspiracy against me? I’m not really sure what is it happening to all these couples that still feel the need to get married (on the 1st of June!) in a church to be able to share a life together…as if sharing an house or having children even doesn’t really mean to be committed to each other unless we sign it in front of God. I brought this discussion among my friends and I was surprised to see all these people fanatic for a ‘white wedding’ (as if there is still something to celebrate “in white” nowadays…). Even the divorced friends are fancing to have another white event. And I stare at them with the puzzled face saying “what exactly haven’t you properly understood the first time?”.

BeFunky_null_1.jpgTo be entirely honest I wanted to get married too when I was a teenager. Like all the other girls I had a wedding dress in my mind…but all the things that happened to me and to the people around me made me develop the idea that there is a greater commitment when two people just decide to stay and live together compared to those who decide to get married and then just keep staying together only because they are married.

Loving each other and supporting each other is way harder than sign on a paper. And even though you think it will be forever, then the commitment should be in making it happen and not just saying “I do” in front of the priest.  Of course I think that getting married could eventually be needed for supporting the children. There is a conjury, valid all over the word, where married woman and children born in a marriage are seen differently from unmarried woman and children born in unmarried couples.

So basically nowadays Love and real commitment is not enough anymore. You need to sign papers and afford lawyers and bankers to proove you love each other. And thank to this I need to share myself among two weddings on the 1st of June…I would just be glad to survive the day and to reach my place without pissing on my shoes due to the alcool I will have to drink to arrive at the end of this great event…

When I’m asked to relax, that’s the time I think too much

Last weekend I was sick and becuse of the fever,  I remained in bed watching (again and again) the second series of Awkward thanks to MTV’s looped broadcast. Saturday morning anyway I had the time of my life at the spa. I had a voucher to spent that allowed me to have a feet massage, Jacuzzi with lavender, body scrub and hydrating face treatment…

BeFunky_Viewfinder_9.jpgI’m telling you this, because the whole Saturday and Sunday since the first moment the girl at the spa touched my feet saying “now you are supposed to relax and not think to anything“, I just closed my eyes pretending to imagine myself flying naked over white clouds…Instead I ended up on Margit Hid.

Believe me when I say that I’m sick of this. I really am. I don’t know why but every time I’m supposed to relax, to think nothing but just close my eyes without sleeping, I end up along the Duna. Margit Hid was beautiful at the end of a sunny day. I spent some of my Sundays back in 2006 walking on Margit Island and I do remember that going back to the bridge I could see the sun falling down – brighter than ever – right into the Duna.

This memory of me walking on the bridge, stopping in the middle of it and just watching the water, made me think to the past and to Gabor of course and this memory ruined my whole weekend and it is still affecting me even today after almost a week. I would rather  not waste my time and my neurons for thinking him and spending the weekend to analyze why on Earth If I need to relax I end up thinking to Budapest. Because the problem –of course– is not the memory of the city but the fact that the city triggers me the memory of Gabor.

Few days ago I read that happiness is not a destination but a way of life. This quite logical statement, together with the Yes Man movie (I know…) and the idea that our bodies are just tools to be used to discover the World, helped me to find a kind of answer to my questions. I’m living a safe life and that’s how my brain reminds me that I’m supposed to play adventures. Just I’m not anymore brave enough to do it.

My long stay period in Budapest was done of being alone, forcing myself to hang out with strangers, making new friends, smoking BeFunky_booze.jpgpot, being drunk, long walking and great fucking. Everything was new for me and everything was great. I had huge hangovers and because of booze I also had great boobs. I lived forcing myself to do whatever I wanted. Did I want to smoke? Then I smoked. Did I want to stay outside from dusk till down? Done. Did I want to stay in bed with Gabor the whole weekend? Went for it. The only thing that worried me at that time was that I had to finish my exams – but still I had great ideas for the future and above all I had great expectations which is something I completely lost today. Actually I am now completely sure that the future will reserve us bad things.

Not that I went completely insane to believe that the crisis will swallow all of us and there will be a huge war due to the petrol and the freemason politicians. Or maybe yes, that’s just what I believe. Fact is I think I’m not able to involve myself in anything very deep and very personal right now. Not a great passion like Gabor was, not a great expectation like my future was, not a great creativity like my hobbyes were and not a great adventure like every day of my life had been less than 10 years ago.

Sometimes I would only run away carrying a new identity and a new story and end up on a small town along the sea, in some tropical place. I would live in hut, fishing to eat and writing every day marvellous tales. I would pick up shells to make bracelets and necklaces and I would sell them at the local market to get some money for a mojito every now and then. But still I know this wouldn’t be right for the people around me and I wouldn’t really do it. I don’t even like fish that much. So in the end,  maybe I’m just trying to build a new scenario to run away with my mind so that Budapest can now be finally forgotten and Gabor too…or maybe I just need an holiday all for myself.


I’m not turning into a mean person. I just started to care more about myself. Or are they the same thing?

BeFunky_bad.jpgIt is not that I’m turning into a mean person. Or maybe yes. The truth is I get stuck to care about people who don’t give a shit about other than themselves. I already told you that my karma is coinvincing me to say everything I think to every person  I have in front of me. Yes I’m completely honest because I think that what miss to most relationships nowadays is the honesty.

That’s why when a couple of weekends ago, my friend Sasha completely forgot her good manners in front of a couple of new friends I introduced her to, I said stop to baby-sit histerical ex-wives. As you all know Sasha is going through a divorce, she told me she felt weird being home alone but also relieved, she told me she was feeling like she had no more friends and like she wasn’t used anymore to go out and have fun, that’s why I offered to call her when going out. But, small detail I’m not in a divorce and most of the cases when I go out I’m with my boyfriend. So she is definitely pissed off for this because if my boyfriend is with us, she cannot bitch around as she used to (before and during her wedding).

I will only cover a couple of recent episodes but there are more. Beginning of October we spent a night at “the Terminal”, a bar for university students that looks almost like a squat. That night she had the pride to wear a fur among peoples with piercings, dreadlocks, cut jeans and dirty boots. She stand on a wall  not wanting to order neither a glass of water and without speaking to anybody with the look of a person that was not having fun. The following day she posted on FB that the previous night had been “deadly boring” (well with a fur on your shoulders you have to use the adverb ‘deadly’).

The second weekend we spent together she wanted at every cost go to a disco despite of the facts I had already told her I didn’t want to BeFunky_Viewfinder_9.jpggo. She agreed to come with me and my boyfriend to a café for a concert and I repeated her ‘Beware I’m not coming at that disco’. When this couple arrived she assumed an annoyed look and didn’t talk to anybody and while the 4 of us were talking she said loudly ‘So what do we have to do? Are we going or not? There is a great event at a disco nearby what are we doing here?’. I was pissed again. After a while I decided to go back home and –because she was in the car with us- she went home too. But obviously that time I couldn’t just ignore the fact she had been impolite with my friends. So I told her. She fall from clouds “Impolite me?”. We started a long discussion where eventually she told me she felt like she was doing the third wheel so then I couldn’t hold it anymore.

I said her, “Sasha I’m sorry your story went bad, but this doesn’t mean that mine has to end up the same way. I go out with friends if there’s something organized otherwise I go out with my boyfriend. If you feel that going out with us, for you means playing the third wheel then call somebody else”.

I mean what else should I have said? I definitely got stuck of organizing night out, check the net to find a decent bar, call everybody and then I also have to listen that she feels like the third wheel after that 1) she haven’t said a word in the entire night 2) she didn’t want to drink anything 3) the only thing she did was standing on the wall not talking to anybody (apart than pushing the whole group to leave). C’mon, I go out for relaxing not to catch somebody else problems.

So for two weeks I haven’t called her, and after some posts from her side that I would have preferred not to read (things like “somebody else online to speak to me?” , “suggestions for a night out?”, “anybody out there?”) she sent me a text yesterday to ask me what I would have done tonight for Halloween. So I replied “I’m going out with my boyfriend, we are going to a concert nearby and we have in our mind to get drunk also”. She said the idea was great and she would have come to, to keep her updated. So I got pissed as well, “Sasha we are going there, we don’t change our mind, if you want to come from 11.30 you can find us there, otherwise stay home”.  Am I mean? After all I just want to get blind drunk while singing the whole night and have fun.

I cannot be Touch(ed) by numbers, but songs make the difference

touchLet’s talk about coincidences and yes I’m getting crazy for the TV series ‘Touch‘, with Kiefer Sutherland, an actor I like since the age of ‘Flatliners‘. I like the way this series is talking about small coincidences in life that lead to a greater picture that usually we are not able to see. The small characters in this series, those getting helped, cannot see the big picture of Jake and Amelia, they can just see that
their small lives have been modified but no more. Touch is sometimes boring, like our lives are, but in its dullness, we can see the well know dullness of our lives, touched by small lackluster episodes that we soon forget but come back to our minds when it is time, when they suddenly take a kind of meaning.

It’s once more again the story of the butterflies flight being able to cause a storm on the other side of the World. A proverb that haunted Selena and me for ages and has been in the middle of exhausting conversations in the middle of the night.
So here we are back, after ages I wasn’t touching these topics anymore, to the Golden ratio, to Fibonacci and to the Destiny that is leading our lives. Touch is one of those series I would have liked to write about myself.

Few weeks ago, I was driving and the usual rock station I listen to, broadcasted Basket Case by the Green Day. I immediately turned the volume up and thought that I hadn’t listened to that song for ages. First time I listened to it I was a teen-ager, most probably still listening to Take That and not yet attracted by Iron Maiden…, and it was out of a tape I had got from the US. At that time I had a pen-pal.  The school organized this thing of having a pen-pal abroad to improve our knowledge of the languages. I hadn’t thought to this guy since then and it took only the space of a song to immediately open the right drawer into my memory.

It occurred to me to talk about him few days after the song,  while discussing with Selena, to be honest I don’t remember the entire conversation but she brought to discussion our old pen-pals, saying that it would have been nice to look for them on FB. And also that day passed. Then few days ago I was moving some boxes and found out my old letters (have I ever told you that I never trought away old meaning-less stuff?) from my American pen-pal.

At that point I joined with a line, the song, the conversation with Selena and the letter I had just found and I thought that I

green day

definitely had to look for him on FB. It took me few seconds once I inserted name, surname and city to find him, he had a photo-profile of when he was a child but I could recognize him immediately and when chatting with him some time after, I discovered that it occurred to him as well to talk about his old pen-pal right few days earlier.

Why do I write about this today? (apart than bothering you as I did with all the series I liked so far?) Because after having seen almost all the two series of Touch, I started checking around myself looking for recurrent numbers. But destiny must have understood that I’m dumb as an ok in maths and therefore isn’t giving me any numbers-shaped sign. I think the song, the conversation and finding the letters, pushed me in the direction of contacting my old friend for a reason. Just I don’t know which one, yet. So old pen-pal if you are reading this, maybe you have the answer, do you need my help for something?