I wish I wasn’t right

I couldn’t actually write lately. I was empty. Like when you’re not really having anything much happening in your life. All cool. Maybe just too bored because of a sprained ankle and mad at the incapacity of moving around.

Today it just hit me. And it’s not the first time. I asked myself what do I need from a man and why I couldn’t find someone to stay. Looking back I’m finding a sort of pattern. Or maybe a clear one. Most of them did not have a pair to tell me, and themselves, what’s going on.

See this is the thing, a fairly independent woman can’t be around a man who’s not… a man. I mean why would you need a whiner and a cry-baby? After all, us, women, should be the sensitive keen. Why should we spend our time with somebody more insecure than we are?

When I say man, I say MAN. I say strength, power, respect. A man who is responsible and supportive. I’m not talking sissies, running when the first problem arises. I’m talking MAN. Be freakin’ caps. Be bold. Assume yourself. Stand out of the crowd of all these bad examples.

Why would I want a man who’s more dramatic than I am? This is the reason I fell out of love with a great guy I’ve been for a year and a half. He was everything you probably wanted in a man but he had this one thing. He’ll be overly dramatic. And if he is upset he’ll not even talk or let you help. I mean that’s what women do. Usually men complain about that scenario when “Honey, what’s wrong?” gets “nothing” as an answer and still she acts like you told her she’s fat.

Now, imagine a man in that exact situation. It’s not really appealing, right? And I should not use this poor guy as an example because he is all heart and kindness. My apologies for that.

But, yeah, I mean where’s my turn? Because as a woman, by default, I have my own little scenes and moments of sort. Why are you taking it from me? Jokes aside, we don’t want no drama kings.

You need somebody to look up to. A man who will say “you know what, we’ll do this!” whenever you can’t decide what you want. And not in a dominating way, but with guidance. A man who will say whatever he wants to say to your face and not wait until the situation is favourable for him or when you’ll be over it. A man who will have the cojones to tell you what his intentions really are.

Why should you waste your time with a woos, who’s thinking that being a man equals being an asshole. You know you’ll end up despising an asshole but you’ll always remember and respect a gentleman. You’ll always remember him as that man who was brave enough to be black on white.

A while back I came across a person who, just like that, through a simple initiating conversation, made his intentions clear. From the very beginning, no time to even fantasize for a second. He deserves a statue, in a world where the majority of men don’t have what they need to come clean. He just decided to make himself understood from the first moment and I didn’t look at him with anything else but respect. He did not torment me in any way, he did not make me feel anything less than I am.

After this being said, you as a woman, know what to do. No, we are not obsessed with you guys, and we will not break down and die if you say “no” to us. We will freakin’ move on because we have better things to do. Women get easily distracted when they want to, so if they want to erase your memory don’t worry, they’ll do it. But don’t play stupid games, of coming and going and all this stupid childish bullshit.

If you want something, say it. If you don’t want it, say it! If you want half of it, say it! Men really think we’re so damn sensitive. That we suffer. Man, we give birth to your ugly faces, enduring a pain that you’ll never endure, we’re your home for 9 months, and the only thing your ungrateful asses do when they come out is to disrespect and look down at our species.

Good for nothing jerks some of you. This is how you spend your days, catching victims in your web of lies. What a shameful result to those hours of labour.

Moving on, you might say that I’m resentful. Nope. I am just looking around. Is not just me, there’s a bunch of other similar opinions. And I feel like adding around a thousand of exclamation marks and a few memes.

I wonder where are those times when men will hunt a wild animal with their bare hands. Now they’ll say there were no animals in the woods. Now they use moisturizer before they go to bed. And that’s not even a bad thing, they just don’t grow balls anymore. There. I said it.

And I’m not a feminist either. No sir, I find it exaggerated. It just bothers me that out of ten men you’ll probably not find a single one to be straight to the point. They don’t have the courage to say things when they are meant to be said, they’ll rather not answer your call than to be forced to clear things up, they’ll rather be cowards than real men.

And God forbids if somebody treats them the same way. The level of victimization will be unreachable. God forbids you hurt their shiny little manhood and return the treatment. You can’t rely on them anymore, they have issues, they’re not the pillars of a family anymore. Actually they’re the first ones to break this institution because a woman will never give up so easily. I’m talking facts, I’m talking statistics. And I’m talking new generations and this thirty-ish generation that I’m part of as well.

A generation before that, they’re still good. The forties are still good.

People say it’s just a Dubai phenomenon. I hear these stories from everywhere, not only from Dubai. Men nowadays lack commitment. They lack strength and sense of responsibility. This generation I’m talking about, lacks basic common sense attributes. They’re lost and they’re not reliable in any way. I am on this dating scene and I see it. It can’t be a matter of choice, my choice, I can’t possible chose them all the same pattern. It’s their pattern.

I believe in looking at your man with admiration. I believe in supporting them and loving them because you know they’ll do the same to you. But nowadays they just take, without giving anything in return. They’re boring, empty, they’re not worth fighting for. They have no values or morals. I believe in feeling protected and safe around a man. I feel that nowadays they only run away. From everything.

I now great men too, I know they exist. It’s not a myth. They’re just only few left. You have to go through a lot to find them.

And yeah, it’s exaggerated. Obviously. But you can’t tell me it’s not true. And if you’re a man in your thirties who is acting accordingly, please get in touch. I lost my patience and my hope.

I would love to write a lovey dovey article next time.

And I’m sure I don’t need to add a disclaimer to this because if you don’t fit the pattern you’ll not even blink to this.

It’s all love and evening writing shenanigans. Peace!



Let’s debate

I read an article a while ago and I badly wanted to coment on it.

You can read it here.

The article starts with a beautiful “By no means am I being sexist or offending women” which let’s be honest, actually means that you have something to say that women won’t like. From here, the logical deduction that a dude wrote the piece. And there is no name of this dude who writes on a “sensational” type of site “UAE viral”.

Why no cojones, bro? Just say your name at the end of the article like a proper journalist. Be responsible of what you write. Assume your opinions. This is the way it should be.

Moving on, this is the first thing I noticed about this article, the anonymous non-sexist, non-misogynistic writer.

“Anyone who has traveled around will realize that some, if not most, women in the UAE start to get a bigger ego and act more stuck up with guys compared to women living in other countries. I would advise the women reading this to take this article with a grain of salt before bombarding the comment section.”

Even though I tend to partially agree with him in the first part of the paragraph, what punches my temper is his advice on how to read the article and the all knowing attitude. My friend, again, you obviously wrote this article to stir shit up. Don’t go all shy now! And we all now how Internet works: more clicks, more comments, more likes means more business and more money. You’re on a website that promotes viral things.

I said I would partially agree with the first part of the paragraph. I live here for almost seven years. For some it may seem a lot, for some I may seem a newbie. But given the fact that this country is 46 years old, I guess it’s quite enough to form an opinion.

So, as a woman, I can tell you that this “princessy” endemic among women is quite a trend. It’s true that men here are a bit too oriented to the material side of this subject and they have this certainty that money buys everything, so to be sure that they won’t miss, they spoil the women they want by their side. Or for the night!

This is the true ego. The fear of rejection. Try taking her for a walk and do your best to make her go home with you at the end of the night. Ah, yeah, money work faster and don’t require brain cells. Yey, the recipe to success.

And I think it’s wrong. If a woman will expect only this from a man, if the only purpose is to get his money, that’s fucked up.

Now, you tell me. If women will be either showered with presents or approached by men in the club or whistled at by the beach, or followed in the mall, what will they become? A bit stuck up, wouldn’t they? See the order. Who does all that? A desperate bunch of men who think we’ll stop and declare them endless love when they come up with these childish rituals of mating. And now I ask you: If a woman looks at you and smiles and tries to give you attention, what would you become? A bit stuck up, wouldn’t you?

In a country that’s made of almost 80% minorities, where you can find almost all nationalities and all type of customs, where we all try to find a way to co-exist by being politically correct and to accept everything and everybody as it is, I think sometimes there’s a clash when it comes to certain situations.

“Emirati women have a naturally high ego due to the fact that they are the superior ‘local’ race. Expat men have little to no chance of comfortably flirting with an Emirati woman. Be a little bit too pushy and you just may end up in jail. Even the government doesn’t welcome the approach, by not even allowing UAE women’s children to gain automatic citizenship. Only Emirati men will have the courage, financial capability and favor with the law to confidently approach Emirati women.”

This is again something related to customs and to the local boundaries of a country. If other countries are welcoming the mix of “locals” with other nationalities it’s again a matter of choice. We are talking here about a muslim country that was built out of sand and it became one of the most progressive places in the world.

It’s a place of freedom for all the expats to live as they wish. I did not encounter any difficulty in living here, more than any other place. And I’m talking from the experience of other 3 countries. We all have everything we need, and it’s so much to say about this topic that I’ll probably have to write another article.

My main idea is that if they don’t make our life harder in this country, why won’t we comply with their rules and traditions. Are we conquerors? Are we here to burn the land and take the women? Is it your main issue the inapproachability of Emirati women? It bothers you that in an Arabic country you can’t flirt with the local women?

“As for expat women, their boosted ego comes from the fact that their value is several multiples more than it would be living back in their home countries. The reason for this is a simple supply/demand calculation. As per official statistics, the UAE population has a shocking percentage of 69% men. Which means for every 3 women there are 7 men. This is only the general statistic. To be even more specific, in the age range of 25-54, for every 3 women there are 10 men! This ratio is the worst in the world, second only to Qatar.”

This paragraph might be the one that pissed me off the most. Read the first sentence. How do you know my value back home? How do you calculate the value of a woman back home and abroad? Please share with me. And how do you know how valuable do you think I am?

And what is that “their value is several multiplies more”? Might want to revise that.

And the second sentence. That is offensive. Are we merchandise? Are we supply. Man, what did you turn this into? See this is the main problem with men, we are seen as supply. We are not stuck up, we are considered merchandise and not all of us is.

Then we have some statistics to help out with the merchandise. Great! A very researched article. Well done! (sarcastic in case you didn’t notice)

This extremely imbalanced ratio create a higher demand for women. This results in average or below-average women being treated like queens. Women coming from abroad will get a sudden shock where they realize that as soon as they landed there are men battling for their attention. This immediately boosts the woman’s ego, and sometimes (if not most of the times) leads her to stick her nose in the air and being stuck up.”

This paragraph is a pure example of poor journalism. The tabloid kind of journalism, Gossip one. I can’t even dissect this. First of all, skipping the grammar part, we are still merchandise and that is nerve-wrecking and secondly: who are you, man? How do you know what we realize and what boosts our ego? This paragraph does not even deserve commentaries. I will pretend I didn’t read it.

“In the UAE, men are aggressively competing to please women, showering them with gifts and expensive dates, when they can get much better women with less effort from another country.  This makes women in the UAE expect to be treated better and set the standard very high.”

Much better women. Bro what are you doing here? You could have made it easier for yourself, but here you are digging your grave, instead. First of all this is offensive for Emirati women. They will read this and they’ll be like “you piece of shit do you think we’re not good enough?”.

Are you arab, by any chance? Are you local? Are you in your twenties? Are you frustrated? Some websites are banned here, it’s true, but you can use your imagination and do something about these frustrations.

What’s the universal standard for a woman? For all women? Please enlighten us.

Instead of writing about particular section of this “merchandise” that you present here, you chose to generalize everything and everybody. If I wanted to agree with you at the beginning of this “article”, because to be honest, it is true that this phenomenon is maybe more accentuated than other countries, I can’t. Because this is only a part of the story. There are people here in this country who are looking for something else, who are paying their own rent and that doesn’t make them stupid or stuck up. They just go for the guys they like not for the ones who only want to finance in “merchandise”.

And you should be familiar by now with the term “gold digger”. I guarantee that every society has it, knows it and debates it. I assure you that things are no different if we talk about them. But you chose to generalize everything and everybody. Well done!

“Unfortunately, in the UAE, a materialistic effort is often mistaken for a “better treatment”, leaving men with bad financials ‘forever lonely’.”

This is my favourite sentence and I consider it a triumphant ending to this example of journalism. If the first part may be true, the second part makes me cry. Oh, such a pity we didn’t get you from the beginning. Actually this was the issue. We pity here men with bad financials. Well, in your world of “Women are all gold diggers” you might be right, but I can show you some guys with bad financials that will put Casanova to shame. And they have something that it’s called CHARISMA and will even put a billionaire back in its place.

Something that you probably lack.

CONCLUSION: If you want to do this, be responsible. If you want to generalize everything and everybody, then bring more to the table. This is just poorly written. And even though you didn’t mean to be sexist or misogynistic, in the end you were. And my response is of course on the same note, or maybe a bit more because I’m a woman and I can do it better. You asked for it.

You also didn’t have the courage to sign the article, which makes you weak, again. You wanted to write something viral and to bring a debate in the comments. This is my debate. As you took the right to write it I took the right to answer.

P.S: If you get paid for this, I want in.

Message me here if you want to talk. I also feel that I’ll have more topics to write on from this site. Keep it coming!

It’s all love and late night debates. Peace!

Baby Magic Gifts – pentru si despre bebei

O să incep acest post cu o mică amintire. Persoana despre care urmează să scriu este o bună prietenă de-a mea din facultate. Sincer, este una dintre cele mai misto persoane pe care le-am cunoscut vreodată. Pe langă faptul că este o aparitie creață, exotică si cu gropițe, este si o persoană extrem de iubibilă.

În facultate eram aproape nedespărțite și avem câțiva ani de amintiri frumoase împreună. Am admirat mereu ușurința cu care reușește să facă orice și cât de zen se menține în orice situație. Întotdeauna a avut o mare abilitate de a mă surprinde plăcut. Plus că iubesc la nebunie cum vorbește.

Acum ea este fondatoarea Baby Magic Gifts – cadouri pentru bebei… mai altfel. Nu bebeii, cadourile.

Despre ce vorbim aici? Nici mai mult nici mai puțin decât torturi personalizate din pampers. Mie mi se par super cool și extrem de potrivite pentru a sărbători un bebel. Sunt practice și foarte utile. Mămicile știu ce spun.

Prietena de care va vorbesc, Gabriela Alecsandru pe numele ei, personalizeaza aceste torturi după cerințele clienților și rezultatele sunt de-o drăgălășenie maximă. Ia uitați aici:



Căutați ceva inedit la petrecerile babyshower sau zile de naștere bebetine (cuvant inventat aici pe loc!)? Tortul de pampers va fi, garantat, vedeta petrecerii. În București livrarea se va face personal iar în celelalte zone ale tarii se va folosi curierul/poșta, cu mențiunea că produsul este fragil.



Vă întrebați de unde idea unor astfel de cadouri? Gabriela este și ea la rândul ei mămica, și, creativă cum o știu, a început să caute cadouri, așa, mai altfel, pentru petreceri și aniversări ce au că personaje principale bebeii. A găsit pe Pinterest această idee de tort din pampers și pusă a fost pe treabă. De aici, totul este istorie. Haideți să mai vedem câteva exemple:


Prețurile pornesc de la 100 de lei pentru un etaj, 200 pentru 2 etaje și ajung până la la 250 lei la 3 etaje cu produse basic (scutece pampers de unică folosință, scutece de finet, jucărie de plus, un accesoriu bebe, panglici, funde, puf sau hârtie colorată, ambalat, carton tort, etichetă personalizată, etc).

Tot ce trebuie să știți e că tortul va fi personalizat în funcție de cerințele dumneavoastră și veți primi poze pe tot parcursul procesului de creație. Veți fi consultați în legătură cu toate detaliile, de la etichete, culoare funde și tot ce ține de decorații și aspectul tortului comandat.

Comenzile se pot transmite printr-un mesaj privat trimis către pagina de Facebook Baby Magic Gifts sau telefonic la numărul 0721297570.

Click pentru tot felul de minunății și multă voie bună! Comandați cu încredere, nu veți fi dezamăgiți!

Let’s not call it a book review

See, I don’t really read motivational books. Or raising self-esteem books. Or personality books. Self-help, money making, career ascending and so on. Not because I’m too good for that, but because I don’t believe in an international recipe for… basically anything.

And the second thing I don’t like it’s the tone of these books. It sounds like it’s enlightened and shit. And I don’t think it’s the case.

First of all, nobody found the key to a perfect life, or succes or to becoming a money making machine  by reading a motivational book. But through hard word and perseverence and so on. We all know the drill.

Recently, I read a book about how many fucks to give, basically. The subtle art of giving them. Ok, I guess we all know by now the name of the book.

The subtle art of not giving a f*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living the Good Life by Mark Manson. Why I bought it? Because it’s orange as fuck and it has a catchy title. Perfect marketing right there. And also because I was interested on learning how to give less fucks. In time I taught myself how to reduce the amount of fucks I give, but then again, you know, it doesn’t kill to know more, to learn more.

I started reading it. Catchy intro, basically something you need to hear. A few good examples also. Some do’s and don’ts. Good lecture. For a while. See, this is what I don’t enjoy when it comes to a book, no matter what genre. The stalling. It starts so good and then it stalls.

Examples become a bit irrelevant, words become a bit too twisted and boom there you are. You are about to not give a fuck about this book. And to be honest the book is a bit too american-ish for my taste.

Anyway, I am not here to claim that I’m better at anything, I’m just sharing some impressions. If I would write a book of this keen I will just base it solely on my experience and make it clear that it’s my personal shit and I learned so and so from it. If other people relate to it, even better. If they learn something, great! But I don’t expect everybody to feel the same about it. Anyway, I’m drifting away.

That’s why these books seem a little herd-ish. I mean, we should be able to learn how to help/motivate/improve ourselves by experiencing practical things. Theory works for a while it’s true, at least to give us an impulse, but practice is the base of everything.

I think less ignorance will also help a lot. And to be honest, no, it’s not trendy to be a sheep. Be you. Be your own damn self. Some things might work for you or they might not. You may feel strong today and weak as fuck tomorrow. It’s ok. Don’t stress about it. Move on. I think we all have the ability to give less fucks if we put our mind into it.

And so, I resumed the book. Basically this is the idea but it’s more elaborated in term of what and when to give a shining fuck. It’s a good read, I’m not trying here to undermine it. I just share what I felt.

I am not a hater or anything, I recommend self-improvment and especially reading. Not matter if it’s motivational books or other kind. Reading is always good. It stimulates, it keeps you alert, it keeps you open minded.

I admit I read some really cheesy and tearful motivational books at some point in my life. They helped, to be honest. They made me feel better, I admit, because they were about people drowning in more shit than I did, or about how kindness can change somebody’s life. Ok ok, it was just one book, I admit: “Chicken Soup for the Soul”, another international best seller. I can’t review it. I will look like a villain.

So, yeah, I’m just here, behind my screen, a blogger/writer wannabe, talking about a bestseller. But then again, it’s my cybercorner.

It’s all love and daytime smartass writing shenanigans. Peace!

Almodovar loveste din nou

Decid sa ma uit la un film de Almodovar. De mult n-am mai facut-0. Era o vreme cand ii cautam disperata toate filmele pentru ca erau dureros de reale si pline de amar. Si imi placea pe-atunci gustul asta.

Decid azi, dupa o lunga vreme, sa vad Julieta (2016). In acelasi stil caracteristic te loveste ca un cutit bont in plasele. Si ce femei alege. Ce frumoase si ce expresive sunt. Cat de potrivite! Incepe usor sa-ti dezvaluie povestea. Asa ii place lui, sa te aseze intr-un loc si sa iti atraga toata atentia. Oricum n-o sa mai fii bun de nimic pana nu o sa afli tot.

In timp ce stai docil in coltisorul tau incepe sa te invaluie in naratiune si cand devii una cu povestea pur si simplu te ineaca in durere si in disperare si toti demonii aia latenti ies la iveala, infinit mai puternici.

Nu trebuie sa ti se fi intamplat, o sa te regasesti oricum, o sa-ti regasesti de la mama la bunica la strabunica in filmele lui. O sa iti gasesti prima iubire si ultima si chiar si cele trecatoare. Si cireasa de pe tort e ca te intoarce in tine, in adancurile alea pe care nici tu nu le stii, sau pe care poate ai incercat sa le tii ascunse, si incepe sa-ti bata in suflet ca acele de tatuaj (fara aluzie la Carla’s Dreams, asa a iesit).

E atat de introspectiv incat te simti vinovat pentru ceva ce poate n-ai facut niciodata. Cel putin eu asta simt. Filmele lui, ca o pedeapsa, ma biciuie, ma taie, ma umplu de vanatai si de cicatrici sau le ingoasa pe cele pe care le am deja.

Isi alege povesti cat se poate de reale, pe care le poate trai oricine, atat de simple, chiar daca uneori usor fantastice, dar atat de grele si de adanci. Drame de zi cu zi de care poate ai auzit dar poate nu te-ai pus in rolul respectiv. Nu-i nimic, te pui acum.

La mala educacion, Volver, Todo sobre my madre, La piel que habito sunt doar cateva di filmele care m-au impresionat teribil. Reale si triste, drame la un pas de noi.

Daca nu stii ce inseamna sa fii sfasiat de durere o sa afli cand te uiti. Iti dezmembreaza sufletul in mii si mii de bucati pe care o sa iti fie imposibil sa le pui la loc. Ramane ca o carie si sapa, incet dar sigur.

Am intalnit o fata acum o luna. Imi arata mandra tatuajul ei. Pe coaste scrie “La piel que habito”. Si ii spun ca e un film de Almodovar si e surprinsa. Surprinsa sunt si eu cand imi spune ca ala e singurul film de Almodovar pe care l-a vazut. E de fatada, isi face pe coaste un tatuaj in alta limba cu un inteles oarecum misterios si e uimita sa vada ca stiu ce e. Apoi o intreb de celelalte filme. Nu stie nimic altceva si incepe sa freudizeze pe tema tatuajului. Ma retrag.

In fine, poate exagerez eu, dar Almodovar nu e doar o data si nu e doar un film. Am eu asa o obsesie pentru el. Sau poate imi place prea mult tumultul pe care il creaza. Almodovar nu e sursa doar de tatuaj, e sursa de enciclopedii de suflet.

Crede in destin si crede in karma. Si bate piua pe astea doua pana esti ne-om. De multe ori ma gandesc ca iadul arata ca o sala de judecata, iar toti cei pe care i-ai ranit, voluntar sau involuntar, sunt prezenti si vizioneaza surt metraje cu tine fiind o scursura de om. Iar tu stai acolo in boxa acuzatului si ei te privesc in ochi, flegmand “cum ai putut sa faci asa ceva” in fiecare moment.

Nu poti sa te aperi, pur si simplu stai acolo si induri. Nici macar nu poti sa explici motivele care au determinat o anumita actiune. Ei stau acolo vazand rezultatul final nestiind vreodata decat un singur lucru – ca i-ai ranit.

Cam asa cu filmele lui Almodovar. Am cazut iar in plasa lui si iar se trezesc Cerberii. Sa va uitati, daca vreti sa descoperiti noi senzatii (din 89 sau nu).