Just now, few hours to year end I want to write about this for a precise reason: I wish to ideally kick 2011 in the ass and send it far away in the corners of memory, because 2011 is the year of crisis – and was a bad year for me too not only monetary wise-.

It was a friday afternoon some weeks ago when I was slowly approaching the end of the day, I was tidying up my desk, postponing the filing of millions of papers for the umpteenth time, unable to find the will to do it and just piling them in an overloaded folder, I entered my boss office to check if there was anything else he needed and while wishing me a good weekend he hands me over a glossy magazine: “Laura, something for your train ride”. It was one of those moment when the few remaining hours between me and the weekend start were loaded with all the burden of an intense working week.

After the last effort, I switch off the computer, finally leave the office premises, get on the train and open the magazine. And there I am, with my wavering mood of the friday afternoon, I find myself in front of the Friday edition of the Financial Times which is called -in all fairness outrageously- “How to spend it“. Well there we go, My boss reads daily the FT and also the Wall Street Journal, and even though he is a top manager he is totally down to earth and also the best boss I ever had (let me add, just in case he ever finds out about my blog!). But there I found myself offended also in his name, by the fact that the editorial staff of FT is obviously giving for granted that only people that not only have money but also are disgustingly snobbish read their paper! Moreover this magazine is not a normal size A4 but is more an A3, like a slap in the face of the monetary austerity and is a 62 pages of pure and only luxus goods.

Just after the cover even far before the index there is a 2 page advertisement of a Chanel watch, as big as my face. Follows another 2 pages dedicated to a mobile phone I clearly have never heard of called VERTU (FYI I was trying to find out prices online now and I just can understand they fluctuate between the thousands of euros). Finally after another Louis Vuitton watch we get to the index. In total, out of 62 pages, 12 are about watches, followed by jewels, luxury cognac, clothes, prohibitive holiday destinations, leather chairs and finally a few lines. They even bothered to write down a piece of article!

Well, don’t get me wrong, I perfectly know that the world is populated by rich people too… but lately I happened to notice more and more their big cars in the streets while wondering if their owners do pay taxes in my poor country… Also I think it’s a sensitive time when we reflect on how unbalanced are distributed wealth and power, the rich people are just grasping more and more for themselves, while middle class get poorer. So wasn’t really my favourite reading.

I turned the last page with a smile cause i had no other choice, I assume, unless I win the lottery tomorrow. I am not one of them and I don’t wish to be if this means being the dumb public of such a magazine. In the end I find it quite hilarious and honestly speaking there is even something i would save among their superficial shiny empty contents. There is a good writer, a female reporter who has a very funny and brilliant dedicated column called: “Chronicles of a spa junkie”. Of course she tells stories about places and things we can only dream about. But she doesn’t sound posh. I also wish I was a succesfull writer who gets paid to get scrubbed and rubbed down every second day!

Check it here:

http://www.howtospendit.com/#!/articles/6330-chronicles-of-a-spa-junkie

Even when you wish to be a child again cause nothing can’t be magical anymore as an adult, except if you go to Eurodisney!

Even when you don’t feel at all the good spirit spreading in the hearts around, cause you hear repeated constantly in the media there is a Crisis with capital C, economy is bad, too much poverty and war on this earth…

Even when there is a mayor strike and your train is cancelled and all the people reverse on the only one running, an epic “train of hope” with all the emigrants going back home standing, squeezing, full of bags suitcases and panettoni… the true “journey of hope” on reverse.

Even if you wake up in the worst mood possible then you think of last year –the very first and only Xmas you did not spend at home, and how much you missed it all, including the clichés and the paradoxes…

in the end, these are all the reasons I could find why you discovered again is always worth spending Xmas it at home:

My mum that this year decorated our lamp in the living room pretending is our Xmas tree, is our Xmas abat-jour: shall I put my presents underneath the lamp??? I see how much she tries, though… for me.

My mum calling up all the relatives and suddenly she switches into Sicilian accent (but my mum is not the Sicilian side of the family!).

Eating the left overs while preparing dozen of tartine (appetizer canapes), something I can remember eating since I was a kind and only exclusively for Xmas eve.

Spending from 11 am till 18 pm into the shopping mall for the greatest shopping of the year: I feel like I robed Sarah Jessika Parker wardrobe!

Spending the day in my pyjama, wrapping presents and then forgetting for whom they are while taking my laptop from one room to the other with the xmas playlist playing in loop.

My best friend calling up and introducing me and all the singles she knows in town in one long evening to cheer me up over the holidays.

Driving a car for hours round and round looking for a parking, something you can enjoy as much as I do only if you don’t drive for the remaining 360 days of the year!!!

Arguing with my sister because I find her being earlier after 30 years of her life being always late; and this time I am late cause I gave for granted she was too, but I am the most punctual person on earth…

Thinking about the time I was working under Xmas as a shopping assistant and thanking God that I don’t have to do this anymore.

Meeting my first love and discovering he starts growing grey hair, find it very familiar but also totally stranger at the same time, laughing out loud for so funny we still find each other and for all the time that has passed.

Thinking what to wear not just to be elegant but mostly because we are going to wait for midnight drinking wine out in the streets of the udinese osterias with -2 degrees.

Wherever you are, and especially if you are or simply feel away from that place called home even if you phisically are there, my best wishes to you all!

BUON NATALE da Red

WARNING this video is incredibly sweet…

Anywa, one of the ideas that kept bouncing from one corner to the other of my skull, generated from my activity of observer-writer. I was sitting on the metro and relised how narrow are the seats there, with all the people pushing and pulling to get to sit. I was in a brasserie and relised how non-detached are the tables with the strangers eating almost from your own plate and listening to your intimate conversation. I find this human proximity quite special. My first reaction wasn’t so positive, then i started thinking how in CH the perseption of personal space is radically different. I would dare to say that in Switzerland there is a diffuse attitude towards politeness and good manners, but these stay ona very superficial level, people tend to be worried about being correct with the others and to expect the same, they expect everyone to observe the rules. On the other hand I found that in Paris there was more true solidarity, something that sounds like: “we are all sitting here, so close to each other; oh sorry, I am stepping on your feet, I am sitting on your coat, I almost fall on you while the train breaks… and in this forced neighbourhood, in this lesson that the city and the culture around us wish to teach us, we understand eachother, we accept each other.” I thought that in Switzerland there is in general more respect of the common living, more fairplay, a more clear distinction between private and public, but also more distance, which means less opportunity to get to (or to wish to) know your neighbour and thus less tolerance. So for once I was happy to get rid of my aseptic cover and to mix with the parisian multicolour crowed. This is the best feeling i bring home from these french days.

Ovviamente se ne va e ci lascia in mutande, un paese sull orlo del baratro con l’ FMI che viene a farci i conti in tasca prima che qualcuno faccia conti falsi come in Grecia. Un paese allo scatafascio dopo 20 anni di pagliacciate di Berlusconi e dei suoi illustri ministri (ricordiamo che in generale si tratta di una manica di ignoranti o sciaquette da proteggere). E tutta in salita  adesso ragazzi, ma almeno forse recuperiamo un po’ di dignita; sgualcita, stropicciata, sbavata, macchiata, ma la recuperiamo, come dal cestino e con la mano la stiriamo e la lisciamo e nostalgicamente ci domandiamo se varrà ancora qualcosa. Certo i bond italiani non valgono granchè. Me lo dice la mia mamma, che si meritava la pensione proprio quest’anno, ma adesso sembra che se la puo scordare, o quantomeno se le danno la liquidazione (se!) gli e la daranno tra due anni in titoli di stato buoni a nulla… Tutto congelato, tempi di stringere la cinghia.

Ora chiunque verra dopo, vorrei solo dire un paio di cose. Governi tecnici o elezioni, o sinistra alla ribalta o grandi coalizioni. Comunque sia è tempo di pedalare alla grande, per tutti, e apriamo gli occhi risvegliandoci dal mondo roseo che ci ha venduto lui dicendoci che stavamo benissimo… Io spero che tutti si rendoano conto delle balle e dei sogni che ci ha venduto. Spero soprattutto pero che vengano date occasioni al paese per cambiare rotta. Anche ad Obama sembra che si stia prognosticando lo stesso, certo anche lui in una sola legislatura ha fatto quel che ha potuto, ma la gente guarda all’economia e dice Obama ha fatto male, siamo stufi, non lo rieleggiamo… La gente non ha pazienza. Purtroppo è sempre cosi che prima vengono quelli che ci mangiano sopra e poi tocca agli altri ripulire e quando e tempo di ripulire la gente é scontenta e dopo mezza legislatura torna a guardare con nostalgia ai demagogi, almeno loro ci intoppano la testa e non ci fanno pensare, a non vedere non si soffre. Ma qui e il caso di aprire gli occhi grandi come palle da bowling e guardarsi intorno. Intanto ci siamo ridotti a zimbello d’Europa e del mondo… Per far collassare un sistema bastano pochi pesanti colpi assestati (giustizia e istruzione per comiciare), ma per ricostruire un Paese, una storia, una coesione, un futuro, ci vogliono miracoli.

Penso a che ore sta passando adesso lui, come deve essere triste, è parecchio che non lo si vede sorridere, forse non ha piu neppure volgia di bunga bungare… Dicono già i giornali americani che pianifichi la fuga in un paradiso esotico (alla Craxi tanto per ribadire da che tipo di gente ci facciamo condurre).. certo è finita l’immunità, adesso sono cazzi, gli tocca vedersela con mille processi aperti! Mi fa cosi pena povero, alla fine il suo e stato un declino orribile, a guardar bene una uscita di scena penosa. Ma è quel che capita a chi vuol troppo, e alla fine non stringe nulla, oddio, certo lui stringe i suoi miliardi, il suo impero di imprese e le sue donnacce in realtà, però io sono convinta che lui sia il tipo a cui interessa molto di piu il potre, il prestigio, il brivido del comando… perciò questa miseria gli farà male. Sarà ferito da questa miseria. Il miserabile.

Noi da qualche parte si deve comnciare, io comincio stappando una bottiglia. Adesso viene meno il primo degli ostacoli che avevo posto da tempo al mio rientro in patria: torno in Italia quando se ne va Berlusconi. Ecco fatto! C’e voluto solo un disastro economico di proporzioni europee per togliercelo di torno. Nè le collusioni mafiose, nè gli scandali sessuali furono abbastanza. A dire il vero la gente era quasi piu interessata/scioccata dai rapporti con le donne che non da quelli con la mafia (non so, ci rendiamo conto?!).

Mi ha stupito quanto sul web sia esploso finalmente il fastidio represso degli italiani con milioni di gruppi tipo “Basta vattene!”, basta mettere su google goodbye Berlusconi o simili… c’è da sorridere almeno un attimo, il tempo di affrontare il dramma che ci attende per riassestarci. Cosa resterà? E soprattutto che ne sarà poi?

vi segnalo un paio di link:

http://www.repubblica.it/politica/2011/11/09/foto/berlusconi_dimissioni_la_satira_online-24715411/1/

http://www.theweek.co.uk/eurozone/fall-berlusconi/42219/goodbye-berlusconi-welcome-back-political-turmoil

http://berlusconivattene.com/

PS For my new english-speaking blog followers, sorry but I had to vent this in italian. I hope google translator can offer a decent version of it.

from thehourglassblog.blogspot.com

Today is somehow the day of digital relationships. in the middle of my online flight purchse the website refuses my credit card, not once, but several times, then it refuses also the second card in a quite outrageos way… then i see a link appearing saying “troubles with payment: contact us!”.  And suddenly a magic windows pops up in front of me and asks me to explain my issue. After 2 seconds someone called “Toni” at the other side, picks up my call and starts chatting with me! “Hello! I am Toni, I will help you with your purchase”, and then he says: “I see you want to go to Paris at 8.35 right?” I remain a bit astonished -where does he sees that??? – either he is a super hacker who just took posession of my computer and with it of all my private data, or is a real customer support guy of the airline… We go on chatting a bit and then he asks me if I want to buy the ticket in the end. Me: “Well, but sorry, do i have to give my credit card details to you? Are you safe? How do i know?… -Yes, I understand, you seem a bit sceptical, would you like me to call you? – I haven’t been asked this questions in years!!! No guys apparently felt like calling me lately! So there i go: Yes Toni call me up! Right here, right now! And I didn’t even have to give him my number! Cause apparently he retrieved it among all the other secret info he already had about me… +34… he really calls from Spain… “Hello, it’sToni…” in a beautiful spanish accent… In the end he manages to conquer my trust and also a piece of my heart and i dictate to him my numbers. In a turnaround of 5 seconds i recieve my booking via mail. I type: “Well Toni is your job chatting with people all day???” he replies that sounds funnier than it is, Toni is writing from Barcelona… My head is a rhapsody of images… “Contact us in the future if you have more issues” … “Well Toni thank you for your help, if I ever have a problem I will ask about you only again, have a nice day” And for one sec I also see Toni purchasing a brand new keybord with my credit card, but it disappears pretty quickly…

How random is all this? I mean I suddenly find myself chatting with an exotic stranger who knows where I want to go travelling and anything relevant about me, just before disappearing again into my hard disk. Puff, gone, my 5 min chat latin lover. I have to say that the airline had a good idea with this tool, very personal, almost too much that i developed a sort of affection for Toni. He was understadning and patient with me more than many other guys I met recently; in fact he couldn’t really blame me for being a bit hesistant in giving away my credit card details to a stranger in a chat… So if this ever happen to you, be aware is actually a new safe customer support system.

I was about to ask Toni out (still quite ambitious Zurich-Barcelona) when I realized that conversation might be recorded somewhere…

Since I moved to Zurich I thought it would be a great idea and a good way to know people to start singing again. I used to have my saturday band at high school, we didn’t have a garage but we had a basement. The fact is that it took me really long years to overcome that feeling of enormous embarassment when at the last year of middle school at 14 I had to sing a solo part in front of the whole school with parents and when I opened my mouth nothing came out but a gasp, a death rattle: my social death. I got the bulls of the school to call me: “the one who hit the wrong note” for some time… i was traumatized. I guess i am just too scared of big audiences since then.

Anyhow, last March i found an ad in a music shop and joined the Jazzcetera, an a cappella group. I never sang in a chorus before and it is for me a totally new experience. It is actually a double exercise since is like doing a swiss german course in parallel, which saves me time and money! What you shall also know is that I can’t play any instrument, neither read the notes… i do remember I studied it and was even able to play the flute as a child, but it’s all gone… My director says that there are actually many ways to learn so… i got enrolled. I shall thank my big number (what we called in Italian cavallo di battaglia) for that audition, being what’s up from 4 non-blondes, which i guess will just remain forever my song. So I always learn by heart and tend my ear to the other alto voices to get the right melody. The alto does not get to be the main voice very often unfortunately, which means that if I already know a song I have to learn it from zero in a totally different way.

One of the thing i love the most is our warm up session. Basically is like regressing to childhood and being allowed to do all those weird and funny noises that your mum always prohibited you to do in public! I surely got to work on my improvisation techniques and i still get the scary feeling when it’s my turn to go… But someone says that to overcome a fear you shall throw yourself into it, so i am for the schock therapy. If you have never heard a chorus or in particular an a cappella group you have to exlpore! o you tube you have plenty of materials including people duplicating themselves into video where they sing each time a different tone and then they paste them all together… I went to Freiburg last month to see The Real Group, a swedish group on the scenes since about 20 years. I was so amazed by how just 5 voices could fill up a whole theathre space for 2 full hours and get the whole crowd in standing ovation at the end!

I leave you with this. A song which gets me shivery every single time we sing it. The harmony of the voices coming together is incredible! It’s funny sometimes to think that I have to sing sounds like ti ti ti ti ti ti or dab dai ra, ba da du bab da which taken as single almost don’t make any sense, but then when all the voices get together the result is wonderful. You can judge.

PS this is not us, but i hope we sound quite the same!

You can follow us here: http://www.jazzcetera.ch/index.html

The Swiss probably did not discover yet the power of the boxe bag and want me to kick and punch the air. The result, i admit is still a good training, but surely not quite as satisfying. Anyway my class teacher is an Eastern european woman called Luba which perfectly embodies the stereotype of a hard, cold, mean and strict sergent! I love when she screams to me! But I love even more when she praises me cause i do good! I fell in love with the roundness of her biceps and she give us such a hard time with endless series of push ups and abs exercises that not even those poor 3 men attending our class can do them all, so then she goes: “Also Hallo Maenner!!!”.

example of a fit bear doing jumping jack

But yesterday it happened that Luba was absent and we got trained by a an old but quite fit man, for which i feel compassion. He tried to follow the series that we usually do, but he ended up being wrong, forgetting the sequence, starting with the wrong foot and counting too long or too short.

At certain point,

he relized the class was going on by itself and he said: “shall i leave?”…I was also about to leave, when at the thousenth repetition I almost fell asleep while jumping-jacking (doing jack jump), but then I thought how bad it has to feel to be the un-needed trainer in front of a class… If today I am surprisingly acking is probably because even though i just used 3 and half muscles of my body to do the same movement all night, while openly and unashamingly yawning, I did it enough time…

Writers need stories to tell. And writers want to be read, of course (well, this is not so obvious to many people who actually write and don’t dare). I think this is the main reason why lately i am surrounded by so many great ideas coming from so many great international people. So I’ll steal this story now from my new friend Neil, who probably without even realizing it in one minute summed up a big truth. A theory about bowling which I find actually quite applicable to many other things… Neil, forgive me, i am going to share this with just the rest of the world (how modest am I, I actually don’t have yet so many followers!).

The hidden secret of bowling is that if you don’t play often, when you get there you just start throwing the ball and this gets you actually quite succesfull most of the time, at the point that you can actually win the first 2 games. At the third game, when you got your confidence back you start reasoning too much and planning a strategy and wishing to retune your rolling technique, and that’s actually exactly the point when you start to fail.

Well, now: first I can’t wait to play again (and obviously to wear those shoes where millions of feet have step in before you and they get you that “cosy” feeling of warm and humid when you wear them) and second I am going to watch out in my life how many times this rules comes true also in other contests.

PS

Today I am also in status of “resistance to change”, I don’t want to change anything of my routines, but my singing day shifted from monday to tuesday which is very disappointing because monday was a perfect day to sing cause is a stupid day anyway to go out, right? Furthermore at the today reharsal we decided (they decided) to completly re-sing our Gloria Gaynor one tone lower, which means that alt will have to sing half what tenor was singing before and half alt lowered tone… For me that I can’t even read the notes is a nightmare since I already learned the song by heart and is going to mess up in my mind… probably the effect is going to be similar to a tornado which will then make all my mental post-it fly around. Therefore on my way home I stopped by the window of the pet shop at stauffacher: plenty of rabbits hopping and bouncing around to cheer myself up! They never sleep those true party pets!

PPS

One of coolest thing of posting is when i choose a picture for the subject and by typing rabbit + bowling you can actually find these kind of things: a perfect sinthesys. Unpredictable.