The boy loved her writings and wanted to know about who she really is. He wrote her a letter, introduced himself and started being e-friends. For a very long time, they only texted each other online. The beginning was promising: lots of flirting, excitement to get a text, curiosity, and many missing pieces in the puzzle. They did not know how they look like. Well, she kept it a secret. She thought if he is really interested in her, her looks don’t matter.
But one day they decided it is time to meet. Sunday morning by the Lakes.
I will wait for you holding a red rose on the stairs behind the planetarium, she said.
At 9 am the boy was heading the planetarium stairs to meet the girl that stole lots of his time in the last months. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw this beautiful young redhead woman coming towards him. She was wearing a silk green dress and eating strawberries. He went straight to her forgetting completely about the red rose.
Let me pass, she said with a slightly provocative smile.
Before saying anything, the boy sees behind her an older woman holding a red rose and waiting on the stairs. She was not the skinniest and her hair was greasy and grey. Her feet were heavy and hiding under a dark brown dress. The spring redhead girl was gone now. The boy looked back for her, but then his feeling for this woman were stronger and did not let him follow the pretty girl. The older woman was standing still. She was pale but seemed intelligent and her eyes were kind.
He tried hard not to show his disappointment and went to talk to her. After all, they had been sharing the most beautiful texts and probably some sexts too. He said hi and introduced himself.
Hi, you must be fixpink. I’m Joe, nice meeting you, finally. Can I buy you a coffee?
I don’t know what you are talking, son. The redhead girl gave me this rose and she said if you buy me a coffee I should tell you she is waiting for you inside that restaurant over there.
*Disclosure: the story is not mine. Heard it before in Romanian and adapted to my own little blog. If you find Joe and the real green dress girl, let them know they’re cool :)*
When you kiss a stranger in the club and he ends it up by saying:
– Too bad we didn’t connect…
Want the long story? This is not a good one, but surely there are some lessons coming from it:
- When one of your friends accidentally ‘steals’ your date, dare to ask for another one in return. Something like ‘Wanna swap dates, now?’ And if they slightly feel guilty, they will definitely have a recommendation
- Be patient! one year later you will get the attention of their ‘recommendation’ (most likely by mistake) in return for your altruist giveaway date. It is karma!
- If they wanna pay for the drinks, let them! You will probably never see each other again because they might turn you off by saying something in the middle of the kissing; Too bad we didn’t connect…
- Stop kissing them, laugh politely and go home, especially if you are not drunk enough to give them a life lesson. And even more, if you pay for their drinks! Don’t be too altruistic, your last year date was probably even worse.
Too bad we didn’t connect?! are you fucking kidding me? I barely connect with my pets, family or people whom I know for years and still struggle figuring out why we are even hanging out. No, mate, having a connection is something you build in months or years with someone who allows you to be completely yourself without feeling judged or anything less than you truly need to be. Or at least that was the definition last time I checked. 😉
But hey, you are 1000% right, it is too bad we did not connect. Cause that is the gold we are all hunting for, right?
❤ until we connect again.
She was born in a wealthy family somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains. I never met her mother, but I always imagined her as this tall, serious and pretentious lady who had servants at the house. The tall lady had six daughters and two boys – the boys had a servant dad though. But I get it, he must have been more fun or something like that.
My grandma was the third last daughter of this Carpathian family. I think she was the rebel one. At 20 she fell in love with the most handsome and complicated man she ever met. Their relationship was not approved by any of their families so in the in the first year they would sleep in the stables of my other grand-grandmother whom I imagine was even taller and bitchier (I heard she never liked my granny so that is why).
In Romanian culture, all the fairytales have the princess called Ileana Cosinzeana. I guess that is why the rich lady named my grandma Ileana. It is an alternate name for Helen or Elena, and the meaning of the name Ileana is “my God has answered; sunray; tree; Trojan”.
When I was a kid she used to take me and brother everywhere she’d go. So we would go with her to work the fields, bring back home the cows or pick up mushrooms after summer rains. She loved adventures and she would always be outside the house. When she would not include us, my brother and I used to treat her like our hobby. We would go find her, hide somewhere in the trees or big barrels to see what is she secretly doing. She would love spending time with herself, checking the animals, making sure they are all taking care of and sometimes she would check people while secretly smoke a cigarette. She will always remember the time for when someone had to do something and make sure they will get a notification. Endless the times she would go to wake up my dad to go to work, or to take us to school. I will never forget her golden mechanic watch with that old used leather bracelet. Now it’s broken but a few years ago I gave her mine, something I bought once from London Luton that just reminded me of her own.
My grandparents had a daughter that died when she was one year old because her brain was too big. She was too smart, they used to say. She developed all her senses too early for her age. I always had the image of her as being this wonder kid who was too good for the world she was born in. I also imagine I am the next one born in the family with her legacy. But hey, I haven’t died and sometimes I can literally feel my brain being too small.
The other two kids, my dad, and his sister are really nice people. Well raised and very diplomatic. With a strange sense a humor and a high interest in sports and politics. They have a lovely relationship, but most importantly, a strong connection. They had a hard time growing up in a really small village where the big floods ruined most of the houses in the valley, including their own. My grandfather, the tall complicated man, was the only villager who built a new house after all that tragedy in the early eighties. My dad’s family had no home at all. They would sleep in the village school or in warm empty stables… This would be in my dad’s last year of high school when he applied for colleges. Unfortunately (or not) that didn’t happen for him so he went to the army. After the army and all the other girl, here comes my mom. The queen of so many areas. My mom was born on the same day as my grandma, but only 40 years later. I never thought they were alike, though. They never quite liked each other but they ended up loving each other more than ever.
This is one of my favorite stories. When my aunt was two, my grandma took her further up in the mountains to her sister so she could stop breastfeeding her. I guess that is definitely a half-century ago thing, but what is a million years ago thing, is that my grandma used to horse ride over 30 kilometers every night for two months just to go and say goodnight to her daughter. That is just… wow.
My first ever great adventure was when I was about 12 years old and my grandma took me, my brother and our three other cousins on a trip over the hills for mushroom picking. It was a whole day trip where we were walking, hiking, looking at the most amazing wild animals I have ever seen and talking about everything. My grandma wasn’t really a talker. She would listen more to other people stories rather than she would tell her own. But I remember, about 15 years ago, I asked her when she was the last time her and grandpa … you know what. She laughed, giggled a bit more and then said innocently embarrassed that it’s been four years. I guess it still cool to know they been … you know what until in their sixties. They have been together for 60 years and I will never forget my grandfather’s joy and happiness when my grandma came back from the hospital the first time – about a decade ago. That is when I knew how much he loves and needs her. About one and a half years ago my grandpa passed away. I was there. My grandma didn’t have enough energy in her body to scream out the pain she was feeling. That hurt me more than him leaving us.
Damn. Now she’s gone. I knew she wants to go too and be with him, but I didn’t think it would be today. Not so close to my birthday, not before my wedding, not before I would introduce her to my kids and tell her about the other great stuff I am planning to live.
Now she’s gone and I am not home. But I told her many years ago that I am not gonna be there. Because this is how I wanna remember her. A great, courageous mountain woman who has done everything she thought is good for her family and every stranger she has ever met. I love her for that and I thank her for teaching me how to mushroom foraging, how to not be scared, how to explore places, how to meet people and how to live a full life of whatever it brings.
Rest in peace or bon voyage, my Wonder Grand Woman!
PS: She loved wine so here is me raising a whole bottle in her memory! And don’t mind me if I will do it for the rest of my life!
I’ll be strong.
Men think bad sex is when their partner is boring. Women describe “bad sex” when they experience emotional discomfort or, more often, physical pain.
We live in a world where little girls are told they are pretty and grow up believing that this is what their social value resides in. We also live in a culture that sees the man’s pleasure as a right and the woman’s pain as normal.
As a girl, the first thing you hear about losing your virginity is that it is painful and that is normal! Uhm… breaking news, peeps! That is not true if don’t want it to be! Create your own story and take control, baby! You can plan for the perfect first night and lose that status or chastity in the most beautiful way. You will always have high standards after that happens but is worth it. Trust me, been there, done that! 😉
To be a good looking girl may be a pain in the ass (also literally in some countries). Mostly because girls are subconsciously looking for other people to take pleasure in their looks as a reward. This is cultural and historical. Because they are raised to believe that what others think of them is more real than what they actually think of themselves. Taking pleasure in other people’s pleasure is not negative, as long as you don’t alter yourself.
Women offer pleasure in return for a high social status, for not being cheated on, for not knowing how to respect their bodies. I am extremely tired of games, plays and facades that people play in order to get a partner. When it comes to relationships, people say:
“Be less yourself! Only show them your good side.”
“Don’t show your true face until after the wedding!”
“You never tell them how you really feel.”
Oh. My. God. This is tiring. Annoying. Betraying. A waste of time and people. I do not accept to believe that deceiving someone just to get them to commit to you is anyhow respectful. I consider it a betrayal and a waste of time for both parties.
But how is this connected to bad sex, you ask?
People match professionally, financially, physically or/and unworldly. I believe this is also the right order. Sex can be good only if you learn it together and grow both in the same direction. Or if you simply match unearthly in bed – which is the best sex I am gonna tell you all about another time. Bad sex is when the transcendent one is missing completely and you don’t cry of pleasure, but of disgust with yourself. Bad sex is caused by one partner treating the other one as a human doll for fapping. When there is no emotional connection, no fantasy including both of you, the other one will feel used. And it’s especially the female part of the couple who will feel that. Here is an inspiring article about the female price of male’s pleasure.
Bad sex is when you’re both good looking, match the age, the social status, the humour, the interests, but there are no butterflies, no trembles or anyone smiling and humming. You know those mechanical moves and positions you’ve seen in porn? Well, that’s just accompanied masturbation. Not gonna call it bad sex when both parties just wanna fuck, but when one is having feelings and the other one doesn’t, the aftermath is just terrible. Days of overthinking, tons of stupid messages, endless frustrations and bad next move plans. That is another pain human female or male can feel after having bad sex.
Communication. Communication. Comm… oh, and no expectations, but just passion. Those are the keys. Develop a passion for love and there will not be any bad sex left because you gonna let your body in the hands of the one you love. And if you love truly and unconditionally, you won’t have time to think about expectations and disappointments because you gonna be too high in love and probably delusional. 😀 But then again, the match will be unworldly. ❤️