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matter of timing

There are times when we fail to fully understand the timing. In life I often happen to think that timing is everything. Lately, when I came upon a car because no driver and no hand brake on, I realized that if I passed a minute before or one after, I should not have verbally attacked the driver fugitive who had been a moment in your butcher in front of it. Timing said.

crops indoors in our home on the edge of every kind of comfort, comfort that often take for granted, like electricity, running water and most importantly warm, various appliances, and he, our beloved heating system. Launched the boiler to reach its full potential, the roar of a flame and feel each other. A pleasant side effect of our radiators Caliente and the semi-tropical climate that dominates the four walls. We wander around the house naked seeds, almost like an aboriginal dressed in leather skirt just mentioned caiman. We tend to ignore, intentionally or not, the actual conditions that lie ahead to a meter from us, separated by a wall or a little more. This morning, therefore, shorts and jersey super fine. So there is no heating, no? The first impact with the outside world has not been reassuring. Less than 5 degrees, in fact, do not go unnoticed, especially when our menisci and patella border with frost separated by a thin layer of colored nylon beaver. By car, put the hot air in the "everywhere", to ensure maximum heat, so much so that even gets a little 'annoying. Arrive at the office, I open the driveway and parking. The thermometer in the car so little reassuring announces least 5.5. Siberia are coming. Come on, I think to myself, so now I put myself in the office and I go more for the next 9 hours. I open the door between the cold from the heat within, no difference. The heater is broken ... and I enter my shorts in a foul mood.

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Travel Christmas

The great thing about memories is the way in which they emerge, sometimes in a completely unexpected. A sound, a scent is enough to bring something to the memory of dead and buried. Or at least well-tucked, pushed as a new book under a mountain of other books that came after, read and reread recently. But pulling it out with difficulty, not to bring down others, buried the book gives us the same wonderful feelings of the first reading.

Last night, transport strikes. Mille probable inconvenience in a return to the home of 50 km between the bypass and highway. Pictures of me crushed between two trucks as a kind of salami sandwich in a well garnished. So I decide to do the old road as long and boring Lent as a lesson in Latin. Step from the usual corn fields, one after another, even in the dark recognize them. Through the bridges. Step junctions. The warmth inside the car, I was already creating a sense of numbness mixed sleep. In and out of town by yet, I realize that Christmas is coming, and conquer. Between the cold and anonymous lane highway I could certainly not aware of it, but in the low plains of Piedmont, Christmas reigns undisturbed. Trees shine in the dark, decorations between kitsch and nostalgia adorn the balconies of the houses low and wide. And I can think of return trips as a child. Of those that seemed endless travel, sitting next to my brother in the back seat of our big cars. Of those trips back from holidays, family, afternoons with friends. When we came home, tired but happy sitting in the darkness and looked out the windows. Then we counted to distract them. We counted the trees in the midst of colorful gardens. I've seen one! I, too, there! And so on throughout the trip. Sometimes we are surprised that so early in the season there were already so many. Other times we even thought. We were there attached to the glass of the car wet and cold, tarnished by our breath watching the colored lights. Those who now seem to some expression of consumerism meaningless in the eyes of children and adults seem to still my little magic out of nowhere.

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Housewives do not despair! Among

do not think there is a precise moment, a bell ringing, someone who says "Hey, E 'right now." Yet it happens, look in the mirror, realizing that something is changing. I do not mean the mirror itself. The one where you write down every morning spots, dark circles, puffy eyes, patches of toothpaste. No, I speak of our inner mirror. What we can do every now and then a snapshot of ourselves, make observations and draw conclusions in some cases.
realizing it was not easy. In fact, sometimes we discover a change in itself, just as you see it in people who have next. Husbands and wives, parents, friends or colleagues.
The other night I was just laughing at me, impaninata between a pizza and a Coke with my friends.
When I talk to friends, those friends who mean a bit 'you are, for some reason or appearance are the image of one side of our character and the way we do. Invest representation of all this, even if they were a member of my staff Parliament, observations and deduce from their behavior what I most concerns. One of them has just gone to live on his own. New house, beautiful (among other things still compliment), great. Potentially, with two daughters, could become a Babel of confusion. Especially if managed by the person to whom I had written Wash me in the dust of the dresser, found written in weeks later. In the new house, what would happen? I open a drawer intimidated. I fall into my eyes and bounce off the pizza. ORDER. I find in there the order at its best. The idea of \u200b\u200bPlatonic order. My brain immediately calls to mind the image of my drawer. The same. The second from the top of the kitchen. That drawer where you do not find anything, seems to have passed Unabomber good soul.
Inside me proud of my home was injured. An indelible stain on the tablecloth clean laundry. In my past weekend, I cleaned with commitment. I got there and I put in order the damn drawer ruined reputation.
And it was there that I realized I had made the leap. And yes. I had gone beyond the barricade. From teenagers to elderly home medaglialmerito unrepentant.
I was consoled by the idea that at least, dear Roby, two of us to have made the leap!

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mistletoe and exchange cabinets

We are in a season in between. We do not know how to dress. When the morning we must prepare to go to the office, we do not know if we have heat, cold, whether in the office find even the air conditioning on throttle, if we have to flip-flops or boots axillary. Around who is already rumored in the corridors of course, is that time of the CA, or the Changing Cabinets. Two words that, taken separately, are not so bad, but put together, no article or preposition a bit 'scared. Fall into the category of BM, beach bags, but are not as reassuring.

Exchange Cabinets ... It will be the fact that summer is over, that winter comes, who returned between seasons. Will that influence has come, they are all cool and who is not infected at will. In short, all this bloody chaos autumn, this morning I see the first Christmas advertising. But how? I did not even resurrect the buried cotton wool, linen forgot to riaffezionarmi velvet. And these I speak of Christmas?

Built in the shot, after a moment of anxiety and panic. I thought, luckily there's still time for gifts. In fact every year there is still time. The problem is that you think there is still time until the arrival of the Thirteenth, when there is no longer time. When the panic stops us from thinking clearly and all ideas that come in are trivial, if not horrible. The problem is that the approach Christmas, even to those who ask us what we want, we have no idea what to say. Cerebral palsy and mental state Homer Simpson .

How is that possible? We have spent months wishing that the thing rather than another. A look in the windows, documents on the Internet about costs, models, shapes, sizes, discounts. And now nothing. But then why not enough time and do a Wish List (also siglabile WL or Wishlist LD), in which list all our needs? The make everything much easier, especially in terms of our psychological and our relatives / friends / colleagues, we are stressed and distressed by each other like crazed chickens severed heads .. Too gruesome?

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Feminism and femininity

If you watch a movie 50 or 60 years and then look at our lives, beyond the big hair, we realize that we went light years ahead. Thank you for this feminism. We are now more independent, more conscious of our role in society, our value in the world of work, our position in the family. We are not mandated to do on Sunday mornings or noodles put up the capon broth. Now we have a job and a career. We do not remove the apron in the morning to the evening, we dress as we want. Sometimes even butch. Why to tell the truth in t-shirts, sneakers and jeans is just comfortable. We are not the most Bigodi (although some of us have tried http://anna.style.it/archive.php?eid=43 ), we have the plate for the hair, and short or long we decide the fate of our split ends. The bras we have not thrown in the end, partly because a good push-up can really raise our prices in the stock market society.

So reflecting on this, there is to say: thank you, thank feminism. But if we look at those adorable little film well. Those summer of Channel 5, those who are about to leave when they start and you say nooooooooo, but why now? Well looking at those little film we see, taking care, men who open doors for women to join them in cars or in hotel lobbies. Or who get up on their feet at the table when a woman gets up. And think about it, I would not mind it happened again today.

Among other things in daily life, there are some that are mezzucci check the remote gallantry in the roughest of men. Now, in quoting this episode, I would not want everyone you thought that my life was spent at the gas station, will be missed. The fact is that just the gas station, dressed in a skirt, I get out my beloved machine stuffed with diesel. I stop at the pump of course self, where the savings is at home. Wink at the attendant, as if to say, then I do the full on its own. He looks at me and says, wants a glove? And I said, no, no thanks I do not need. But he was almost annoyed by my response, I replied but it puts the fuel?! And I, shy, eh ... And he then takes his glove: it takes me and the sock on his hand! Mattu see a skirt, to tell the truth below the knee, what you do not develop in gallantry. Really I did not expect. When I finish doing full (46 €! oh well) asked me the courtesy to let him close the cap, apologetically, to me: when you can help ...
At this point, I have to ask, better feminism or femininity?

Sister Stomach Sitting

Just blog

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