Archive for the ‘childhood memories’ Category

The other day I bumped into an article about BIC pens for women, in fact, there are lots of mentions online about this and lots of ridicule. I also found it funny and stupid at the same time because I think it’s a waste of money and energy to make some pink pens and sell it specifically to women. Anything made pink and sold specifically to women is ridiculous. Does a product have to be pink in order to be directed at a certain gender? I think it is useless and besides it is indeed just a marketing strategy in order to cash on naive people. Because pink products are more expensive. At least the pink, shiny BIC pen was more than double the price compared to a plain BIC pen.

If I remember my childhood now, I can’t say we did have this blatant gender segregated toys, and here I am referring to a whole PINK toy and clothing section. We did have dolls and this stuff but I don’t remember being such a big deal and I’m really sure we didn’t have a wide range of pink personal products.

So, with this in mind I have never been a fan of light colors especially pink. I also never started a war because of the pink products stating that is somehow offensive or degrading for women because I don’t think it is. What I think it is, well, uselessly expensive and just because of the color. What I do though, is avoid these products, not because of the color but because of the price.

I always buy razors from the men department and sometimes socks as I do find cheaper socks there. As about pens, I usually buy neutral ones but most of the times I get them from different places like schools, offices or courses I attend.

The same thing goes for other items like electronics. I remember a radio add from a while ago which mentioned that women can choose computers from a variety of colors. I don’t know about others but when I buy a computer, the color is the last thing of my mind. Actually I don’t take it into consideration at all, first, I look at the computer’s properties and of course, brand.

I think the most infuriating thing about the pink products is the price based on the color. I would understand if the quality is better but in most of the cases there isn’t any kind of difference. And it’s also not very nice for people who do actually like pink and have to pay extra for a product just because of its color.

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crazy summers

This is one of long ago when i was spending my summers in the countryside with my sister and of course doing lots of things which exasperated my grandma. We did not mean it but these things just came as we were playing different games or just hanging around. It is so difficult as a child not to destroy something, at one time it comes as a consequence of your games and curiosity. Me and my sister liked to spend our free time upstairs especially when it was hot outside and play cards or discussing. Or just teasing each other. One time my sister was playing with something and as i got bored and wanted some action, i just took her toy and run away into the living room. Of course, i tried to stop sister from entering by locking the door temporarily, meaning drawing it after me and keeping it shut. See…the types of door in my grandparents’ villa are not made totally from wood but they also have windows. That was really bad for my sister who came running very fast and tried to push the door open. But instead of placing her hand on the wooden side, she placed her hand accidentally on the window. Needless to say the window went to pieces and my sister got a bad wound on her palm. At that moment we both stood still in shock. The blood was running very bad from her wound but instead my sister looked at me in horror and at the smashed window pieces and said: “Shit! Grandma will kill us!” After the first shock was over i grabbed something to stop her bleeding and started to clean the mess on the floor carefull not to cut myself. We hid the glass pieces and cleaned my sister’s wound while we thought of a good excuse for the broken window. As the glass was not very well fixed we could easily blame it on the wind and so we did. We just not did tell anything to grandma in the hope that she won’t notice. Actually she did not notice until very late when the summer and our holiday was almost over. She did not say anything to us but she knew somehow that we were behind the whole business. I mean come on…how can a window shutter all of a sudden, the glass pieces disappearing without any explanation? Silence was definitely an answer. 😀

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The question of role models in life never bothered me because i actually did not have any so to say. Well, if you are to think of the ornaments promoted by media which have to stand for consumption bodies instead of women or shiny, silly smiling, polished males with no brains. I had none of those role models in my life because i saw them rather as trash of consumerist culture rather than dignified examples to follow. Nevertheless, there is somebody who’s got my admiration, silent and secret admiration, from my own family: my aunt. And she didn’t get it because of i don’t know what highly material achievements but for her personality and character. She is very individualistic and taking her own decisions as well with the responsibility which comes along. And she is one of the most positive and cheerful persons i have ever met. From her i learned to stand up for myself and defend my own decisions and choices in life although there is a whole army of people behind you who yell that you are wrong and try to shape your life the way they want. I haven’t got the chance lately to have a deep talk with her mainly because she keeps away from the other relatives. Once it was a bit of a mystery for me why she did so because not long ago i was quite a naive child but now i see things much better. You see, my aunt was never married nor she had kids and for a tradionalist society obsessed with housewifes as breeding mares this thing is outrageous. But i always saw it as a personal choice and respected her, i never asked her these kinds of questions because i just felt they are useless, stupid and highly insulting.

It did not happen like this with my relatives and i fadely remember now that they always bothered her with such questions and i saw she was uncomfortable but too polite to react violently. Even when she was not present they tried to find single guys and they always tried to couple her assuming that she is not happy and feels miserable without somebody. On the contrary, i’ve seen much more married women miserable. And my aunt did not care and she moved with her life doing whatever she considered that she had to do. I remember when i was among family gatherings and my aunt was there she always got drawn into this kind of stupid conversation which “stabilized” women try to involve you in. I was a child but i got annoyed so bad and i was just wondering why the hell are they trying so desperately to arrange my aunt’s life into a kind of domestic shit? Why are they doing that against her own will? I never understood why some forced you to do some things which you don’t feel like. I just think of that because she never tried to impose her lifestyle on anyone. I just admire the way she dismissed everybody by applying the old saying “dogs bark, bear moves on”.

And all the excuses that you are not normal and you will see, you will change your mind, your instincts blah blah. All this bullshit being fed to you all over and all over again. That is one reason i admire her. She is one of the persons with a spine, a personality and a brain who chose to think for herself instead of letting others making the choices and fuck up her life. And afterall when people see you are happy with your own choices they still cannot accept the simple fact that you live by your own rules and manage excellently. I just believe that somebody’s own choices are not difficult to follow as well as goals, if some assholes would not intervene with unwanted advice. Things would be easier somehow. Life of course has its own difficulties but added by people it makes it sometimes unbearable.

I am grateful sometimes that i have such a powerful example in my own family which afterall, contrary to what others expected she is happy with her own life because it raised to her own expectations not to others. And she dismissed completely the stereotypes and taught me that there is a life besides being driven by the so-called biological instincts. Because all of us have brains but very few know how to use them ;).

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I was thinking for quite a long time to write such kind of article, the idea did not come into my mind on the spot but I got it gradually inspired by the posts filed under childhood memories. This one is not going to be as funny as the other posts on the same theme but rather realistic and bitter. It is just the reality seen through the eyes of a girl of 7-8 years, up to to adolescence and beyond.

I did not grow up in a pink world despite of the fact that people around me tried to build it so. The more they tried the darker it got for me. I regarded my status treated rather unfair but when you are 7 what do you know? You see that your male relatives are given many credits and you just ask yourself “what did I do wrong? how are they better than me? why everybody treats me as if I am a complete idiot?” And you just move on with your life. The same treatment you get in school, your self-confidence starts to decrease and you just become somebody whose only wish is to get through life as invisible as possible. Because you can’t stand anymore the people around you who remind you constantly that you are born handicapped although your body and mind function very well. School wasn’t an inspiring institution for me at least, it was communist and narrow minded. Instead of evolution I got the involution and here I talk about spiritual development. I had teachers which constantly repeated us, the girls, that we are worth nothing just because we are born girls. That happened at the university, a place from which I expected more wisdom. Wrong. I don’t want to imagine some of my colleagues who went to universities considered “exclusively for males”.  The family you grow up in is in most of the cases the traditional one who try to raise you up in the holly christian spirit in which of course you don’t believe. And I love studying and doing my own kind of stuff and that is not fit for a girl in a traditional society and of course you suffer the consequences. I heard so many times that my future husband will beat the shit out of me just because I refused to learn cooking and in general, the lessons which will teach me to become a servant doormat.  My relatives actually still regard the ultimate goal for your girl life – marriage and the stupid stuff which comes with it. One of the things I started to hate with passion and they should not worry, they will never see me in the shitty white dress. Of course that ideas like being a virgin until marriage is still got into your head because as much as that society likes to be modern, under the polish of modernity lies a thick, dirty, well-masked traditionalism. Everything is just a stupid big fake, a masquerade.

I learned one big lesson there: it’s hard being a girl in romania. It’s the most difficult thing I have ever done, so to say. Because whatever you do, whatever decisions you make, nothing is good. There will always be somebody to remind you are worth nothing with no solid arguments, of course. Your body will not belong to you anymore because you are already sold to the patriarchy the moment a doctor confirms your gender. And as much as you would like to take it back you can’t because it is already ripped into pieces. As much as you fight to regain property of your own life it is most probably you will never succeed because the life does not belong to you anymore. You are obliged violently to reach a kind of perfection which does not exist. You have to be the perfect super-woman which is impossible. Most of women waste their lives trying to achieve that and when they realize the whole dirty, idiotic and highly misogynistic mechanism behind that it’s already too late. They are already too old and the most beautiful part of their lives is wasted in ephemeral efforts to try to fit into some patterns dictated by sick mentalities of a sick society. A society which in the end does not give a shit on them anymore.

People are silent and they like to keep up the appearances. You will always be lured that this is the normal way and not other. And you have to shut up and accept all the dirt that is thrown at you as part of your gendered role. Because that is normal. It is normal to grow up broken and spineless people and our minds fed with ideas which are worth for a horror movie or a dark comedy. I have learned in time that you can live very well without such kind of people and without their ideas. And life is much easier and serene like that. You are the way you want to not the way somebody wants you to be because…..and here insert illogical reasons.  I can never say I had a shitty childhood but there were many aspects related to gender which made me feel very uncomfortable at a point or another in my development and if I hadn’t let them affect me I would have been slightly different person today. More developed one. It’s good that I had the courage to open my eyes and move on, although at some points I had to fight not only with the people around but with my own self which was trapped in this vicious circle. And I think that the true change comes when you really are ready to face your own fears or barriers deep there in the subconscious. I am not fully recovered but I am working on it.

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i just knew Santa did not exist, nor did the Easter bunny or whatever nice present bringing spirit. i did not question myself why because i was not interested. i was born in a communist country and i grew up in the shadow of communism. i was fed with its memories. when i was small i did’t remember getting presents and the ones i did were mostly made my my parents, of course i did recognize their style and i was not fooled by some unrealistic creatures. and besides, my concept of Santa did never exist. i grew up with a man dressed in blue and called Moș Gerilă. but it was just a fantasy. i knew it. i never saw the Easter bunny. i heard of it maybe in my teenage years when i was already too mature to believe in a rabbit with a basket full of eggs jumping around.

but still there was something which terrified the shit out of me: Bau Bau. yes, the Bau Bau was a creature of darkness, of the other world with which my parents used to scare me when i was too nasty “because you are too loud, you upset your grandma and you don’t want to eat!”. and damn it, i was all the time! how did Bau Bau look like? well, there is no rule, just my imagination went wild. it was like a dark shadow creeping in, under doors, from keyholes, in the small crack in the wall, it creeps under bed grabbing my feet and dragging me to hell 😀 when i think of it now it looks a bit like Mörkö from Moomins. weird enough, Mörkö is one of my favourite characters. but Bau Bau sure is not; Mörkö has something innofensive, Bau Bau is evil, you don’t discuss with it – you are just taken because you are just a fucking nasty kid. worthless to tell you that sometimes my heart pounded at every shadow i saw moving on the walls at night. i closed my eyes and i saw the terrible thing coming to grab me. i was dragging the blanket over my head; turning into a ball and just sharpening my ear at every noise.

so many years past by but i still live with that impression of the nasty creature. i just don’t materialize it but i am certain of that feeling of insecurity and evilness coming from another dimension. or maybe i was just too damn traumatized. …and at night i still wake up and have the impression that something unearthly is in my near vicinity. under the bed.

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“You are so bloody arrogant!” I have heard this one countless times from countless various people. And this involves my “great” capacity of socializing. It’s about social skills and my lack of them. At least in my case, you don’t become anti-social from a certain age. You are born that way. Since i remember i have never been the kid playing with other kids; i tried it’s true but i always ended alone doing my own stuff since the others were too ocuppied with playing stupid games and making fun of each other. I preffered to do more intellectual stuff like reading; i used to read for hours on end all kinds of books especially what my parents called “books for grown ups”. I learned to read at the age of four long before going to school and childhood books were already consumed by the age of eight so i started reading the literature classics and philosophy.

But that was not the reason of my lack of social skills, not that i say that now i have found it. It is just that i don’t go with the majority of people. Most of them are too trivial, too superficial for me and yes i tend to judge quite harsh, i keep it to myself and move on. I do not make any effort to make friends, if somebody is worth it then it will just happen. Small talk is usual and random. During all my school years, i don’t remember once to have gotten along with my colleagues, just few of them. Most of them could not stand me because i was just keeping to myself and minded my own business. People have a great capacity of interfering into others’ stuff and this is not at all part of my hobbies. I just do not care what others’ do and this seems to bother many people. It is still a mystery to me why. Maybe they don’t have interesting enough lives…And is it worth to take people by genders and reflect upon my capacity of making friends? Maybe yes if we are to think about the stereotypes. I hate stereotypes but i have to admit to one extent that they are true. For example, i avoid company of girls because they tend to discuss the stupid domestic stuff which i hate, again. I don’t care about your fashion, make up, cooking, kids and all the idiotic shit which comes along it. Keep it to yourself. It makes me more anti-social. Yes, i quite remember i was caught into some of these discussions and i got bored to death, looking on the walls and beating the seconds with foot under the table. Nice and deeply intellectual conversation ladies, i was thrilled with disgust. On the other hand, guys, nice to talk with them, nice company but since they are guys they will always try to hit on you. And that is a fact. (My gay friends are not included here). Of course, i pretend i don’t notice their charming grins and just go on as friends…well, most of them just get used that we are friends, get bored of grinning charmingly and just go on as simple friends. Some get so pissed and they just walk away…again gentlemen…i could not care less; the fact that you act like animals in heats is not my problem. And i know the classical ones…why i am not interested and the rest of blah blah. This is part of the big anti-social mystery of mine. I don’t know. I am not attracted to people in any kind of way. And in another post, i explained my plain rejection of guys also. Maybe i just have a weird inborn selfish structure, maybe, maybe….but the plain fact is that nobody knows and the human relations, at least for me, seem so complicated.

At one point, it seems i am enjoying my loneliness and after heavy socializing, being alone is like a breath of fresh air. Being too much time among people feels like lots of pressure for me and sometimes i get very pissed if i am not left alone with my own thoughts. And about people, i am being so picky and so suspicious that sometimes i end up having friends i would never thought i would even talk to them. It’s not the first time when it happenes to me to not like a person and then just become close to each other. Or just those people you thought you never… I don’t suffer because of my anti-socialness, some people might think i do, but i am happy to not be surrounded by extremely annoying people. The only problem “diagnosed” by a very close friend of mine is my acceptance. She told me i think of people too harsh and not give them a chance, i would say it is true but on the other hand i am totally fed up with people trying to arrange my life and tell me what is best for me. And most of the people i meet are like that. So, the less the better in my opinion. At least for the peace of my mind.

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On The 69 Eyes … that’s what i was listening right now to dampen the sound of rain which keeps falling and makes my eye-lids heavy, ready to dive into another portion of sleep but i really have to keep the dreams away. They are more like nightmares. I still wake up sometimes clenching to the pillow and my heart pounding so bad ready to jump out of my chest. They are not nightmares with monsters and ghosts, i wouldn’t call those nightmares. My nightmares are abstract and with real people. So, i have been told too many times to stop watching horror movies and read Edgar Allan Poe. That’s what i was doing since i was a kid. Every evening before sleep i would read a story, hard to say which is my favorite, i like most of his tales of mystery and imagination … if i were to choose maybe The Pit and the Pendulum. Gives you cold shivers and a suffocating feeling of deadly claustrophobia. As about the movies i really enjoy the ones where supernatural is at its best … no serial killers and phychopats a la Saw or Hostel or whatever. No. Just pure supernatural. It’s not that i believe in it but something draws me so bad towards and half of me tends to think there is a grain of truth in it. If there weren’t how else the stories came so long way and have so much history behind? Or people’s imagination is really wild. At one point i do not care what is true and what is not, i just like to enjoy the mystery and to relax myself in a world which is completely unknown and innacessible to me. It’s one of those heavy, grey, rainy days which i adore. They make me so tired i can barely walk and distinguish reality from a dream. It feel more like catatonic experience somehow when time has stopped and everything looks the same. Even my gestures seem so repetitive i have a continuous sensation of déjà vu. It’s one of those times when your mind switches to another dimension and your body stops living with it being just a flow of life which keep you alive but deadly unconscious at the same time. Isn’t atemporality great? Foreverness and ephemerity at the same time. You just have to know how to get back to your miserable reality where you have to choose. How i hate choices, i would take both ways at the same time and i would release the pain of loving too much and too many. Why do we have to choose even when it comes to our hearts? Isn’t love universal and for everybody? It is so limited while hate is universally accepted. You can hate as many as you like but you can’t love because in a way or another love is immoral, is dirty, is sin. If love has come to be considered a sin than what is hate? A virtue? I don’t care about the types of love because in my opinion there aren’t. Love is just a single, unique feeling. Of any kind. I might be twisted and live more feeding upon darkness and mystery but it all has a sense somehow. Dancing into the night under the moon just helps me hide the feelings i have and cannot share them because of fear, rejection, hate, mockery. I keep them between a shadow of moonlight and a patch of darkness. I feel safe that way.

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life is a journey, not a destination


life is a journey, not a destination