Sunday, October 23, 2011

The Times They Are A Changin'

Sadly for my loyal readers (aka you) I don't have anything interesting to write about right now, but consider this a snack hours away from a full course meal to tide you over for the next little while. I'm just going to spew out my current thoughts and hope you enjoy this little tidbit until something worthy happens and I actually have time to document it. Today at lunch, Cely, the maid and I, were talking about marriage. I find myself having many random conversations on topics that have nothing to do with anything relevant to my current life, but I always have deep conversations with Cely. I asked how old the typical Filipino is when they marry, and she looked me very seriously in the eyes and said, young. She gave me a piece of advice that I already know, but will cherish anyway.  
No matter if you have an unplanned pregnancy, need love, or want a green card, don't marry young. Don't worry, I won't! Although the green card idea is kind of tempting...  
Nevertheless, I enjoy my independence. Going
to the bar on Friday night made me realize why, why would I want to be in a relationship at this point in my life? I can do absolutely anything (or anyone, wink wink) I want without feeling guilty or obligated to ask for opinion. Cely got married at 19 and I asked her why she agreed to it if she didn't feel ready. "I don't know what happened," she told me. "We met in November and were married the next April. He came over one day and him and my father had a conversation, and I don't know what happened after that. I got married."
Last night I met up for some drinks with my friend Jeanny who just returned from Amsterdam to visit a friend. I'm so happy I have my partner in crime back in Rome with me. She got on the wrong bus and kept me waiting for almost an hour before we were supposed to meet, but I didn't mind. I sat at the bar talking to two men who just might be reading this right now if they remember the name of my blog. One man, Brian, is 63 years old and from Scotland. He asked me not to mention him in my blog (probably because he doesn't want the fame - he has what it takes, after all). Brian is living in Rome as an accountant and when he told me he was 63, I thought I'd be clever and tell him he's almost at one of my favourite Beatles' songs (When I'm 64). This turned into a conversation of how Paul McCartney is at the top of his hate list. Being a fan of Sir Paul, we argued back and forth, and we wrote a list of other people he hates. So here is Brian's hate list:
"Don't hate me cause I'm beautiful, Brian..."

1. Paul McCartney
2. Sting
3. The Queen of England
4. Margaret (I don't know who this is... An ex girlfriend or wife, perhaps?)
5. George Bush
The other man who kept me company while waiting for Jeanny is named Steve, and he's a priest from Ireland. He's quite young for a priest - my guess is early 30's. But then again, I am notoriously bad at guessing people's ages. I will either seriously flatter or seriously insult you. This Tuesday, my cousin Erica and her boyfriend Derrell are finally arriving in Rome, which means that between Tuesday and Thursday I will have absolutely no time to update my blog as I'm their own personal tour guide of the city. 
I also have a lot of decisions to make right now... But I can't write about it here on the internet, no matter how badly I want to, no matter how badly I want people's input, because really, I have a decision to make myself. I messaged a few close friends explaining the situation I just found myself in and I don't know what to do. 
So far, everyone who's responded is pulling me in the same direction, but... I'm lost. I remember hearing a quote once that goes, "If you don't know what you want, flip a coin. For that moment it's tossing in the air, you'll know what your heart is really hoping for." I considered this saying back in early August when I was debating the whole Switzerland or Italy debacle. I chose Italy, because in my heart, I knew that this is what I wanted. And I'm so happy I did, because this was the right choice for me. I know that in the end, I always end up doing what's best for myself, but I'm worried hurting people while in the process of pleasing myself. This is not an easy thing I have to decide, but I have to do it soon. Hopefully my Monday visit to Campo Dei Fiori will help me. I hope I'm not tugging at your anxious strings and making you wonder what I could possibly be talking about, but I don't want someone to stumble upon my blog and figure out what it is. 
I very recently found a picture of myself back when I was 13 years old. It's hard to imagine I was really that young (I'm sure I'll be saying the same thing in another few years while looking back on my time here in Italy). When I saw the picture, I didn't recognize myself until I focused and realized, Hey! That's me! I was such a funny little girl. At this point in my life, my idea of a good weekend was taking stupid pictures of myself and talking on the phone for hours with my girlfriends and watching That 70's Show after school every day at 4. At this age I liked to copy what my sister did, and she introduced me to some of the best music of time. The Beatles, Neil Young, Bob Dylan, etc. I pretended I knew all about them when really, I hadn't read books or understood the depths of the lyrics, but because my cool 16 year old sister liked it, I thought it must be cool too. 
Five years later I still listen to this music and am making it a personal goal of mine to learn the harmonica. I have the tabs of Bob Dylan saved on my computer and visit the park as much as I can and practice practice practice. So far I'm no Dylan, but I'm working on it. When I was 13 I was for some reason obsessed with... ugly shoes. I had a green and a black pair of converse sneakers and I would mismatch them to look ethnic, I guess. I also had a drawer full of black eyeliner because that was as much as I could do at the time. Looking back on this picture makes me feel so much older and realize that once upon a time, I was totally clueless. Was this really only five years ago? It's funny how much one picture can trigger so many things. Like, for example... Where did those awesome earrings I was wearing go? 

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