I started this blog for two reasons:

1. I wanted to have a diary for my thoughts. I used to write a diary, when I was a kid, but rather than my thoughts, I registered there, what I did day by day, so now, when I read it, I have no idea, how I felt in those times, but I know exactly, how often I was in the local swimming pool in a week.

2. Creative writing should be the most straightforward way to learn English for me, since I have no mate, who I continuously could talk to – sorry for the people, who suffer from my verbal diarrhea sometimes – , although my colleagues do a great job – beside understanding, what I am trying to say, and my newly created words (outstairs), they try to help me to explain myself more accurate.

Ach, sorry, three reasons:

3. I thought to have arrived to a level of experience, where I can share responsibly what I think, so no-one gets hurt.

But I realized few things about myself in the last few days, since I decided to pass two complete weeks in Italy.

The country, from which I was fleeing almost a year ago, because I wasn’t taken seriously: since woman, since East-European (Central to be frank, but not a lot of people know this), since not able to tell to have graduated with 110/110 points (“just” graduated as MA and Master in NLP, in Germany there are no points) and since AND most importantly – and also as a consequence of the told above – no mothertongue.

Now, I am thrilled to go there, to the smallest and strangest city in Italy, where only fashion counts – 5 years ago I intercepted a conversation of a brilliant looking young couple, like: “let’s go to watch, who’s on the street and let us show to them…” – where you HAVE to be pretty on the beach – imagine, me with my new shape, thank you potatoes and sandwiches and the pint sized ales – where you hardly can walk into a shop, ask for a dress and not be looking at, since accent-owner…(the funniest thing was though, when I wanted to buy a new pair of pants, and when the clerk realized my size, she said: you didn’t seem to be so big. (well…thank you…actually I am  normal sized)…)

I am thrilled to go there and tell them, that I live and work in London – and not as a pizza-courier – go to the beach every single day, look at the Mediterranean, good-looking, chesthaired guys – am exagerrating, the current fashion seems to be to depilate also the eye-brush, Jees I find it so disgusting: guys have hair – in fortunate cases – and I deserve to see and to enjoy it! – talking to random people on the beach, go to my morning run on the beach, live a senseless and relaxing and well-known life.

Am I in the middle of a certain midlife crisis – be a culture shock, please… – with 3 countries left behind? and the answer is: YES, I AM.

I just realize, that I miss the street flirts, the sun glasses, the coffee, the bars, the breakfast, the pasta, the aperitif, the dinner at 8 – the time, where here some of the bars are almost closing their kitchen – I miss the fashion – in London, strange, isn’t it?

Last time, when I went to Italy with similar feelings, the first thing I saw, was a girl – perfect, tall, thin, model-like – walking a dog on one of the most famous streets in Italy, happening to be in this village, where I live – which was wearing a Monclair jacket. The dog, I mean, not she. I was terrified, I saw immediately, why I wanted to get out from there, how superficial the country is – at least the people, where I live – but now…I miss it again.

I guess, I should re-think my decision about habits, which not only give you the walls to the house of your soul – the furniture can always be changed though – I also should re-think, if my idea from last year wasn’t a better way to discover Europe: going to work remotely every year to another country, to live there, stay there, knowing people – one month is not enough though…at least a year needs to be lived somewhere to even tell, that you are part of the community.

Anyhow, I am happy, confused, can’t wait to get to Italy and in the same moment, can’t wait to get back here.

To the open-minded part of the world, where I can allow to myself to be, how I am, without having anyone to tell me, that I am wrong! So hard to know yourself, but for sure is, that to get to the happiness of having my residence in London, first I have to leave…


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