Searching The last Christmas before the change, the final Christmas. It was to be the most beautiful, most peaceful, the most heavily laden with expectations: instead may be a deterioration. Affections and nerves.
A film by candlelight, the thoughts made his heart wrapped with utmost care, hot pussy on his knees. Two glasses clinking of good wine, a simple and tasty dinner, the pleasure of convidar one of the last moments together before posting.
enough little, so little to make it special, to save the stupid and unnecessary grievances. Need little effort to come meet, and discuss what has happened in the only way possible: with a hug.
beautiful cats. Adorable batuffosi essential Wanted a / o or two cats / the puppy / adult I / i, to be taken. Good-natured, gentle, affectionate, even maimed or sick, still need hugs and love. Guaranteed affection, adoration bar perennial and eternal worship (including post mortem), a warm home, lots of places where soft cuddle, four knees on which to make the wool, two pairs of hands to caress / ie two humans to cherish / i. Offres addition, lifetime supply of dry food, cans and sticks affilazanne and scented litter. If you have cats or cats to get rid of, intercoms, Julie & Denis. :)
We almost is done. In a couple of months, probably, be able to go to live with Denis and to start a new life. The bases seem very good: a satisfying job, educational and paid payroll, a new house warm and cozy, a cat semprepiùprociona, a new and unusual relaxed atmosphere, a more serene mother, the desire to restart again. As a woman.
Number 23 Yes: I make 23 years on Sept. 23. Not the 2023, otherwise we would be worried about. Even today I have for 22 years, I graduated July 22, 2009, today is 22, the day they were born my aunt and Ornella Vanoni, a bit 'of years ago. Tomorrow we will do the years and I Gino Paoli (which, strange coincidence, in the past has been a fellow of Ornella Vanoni). How do I feel? Achieved. On 28 July, six days after graduation, I found a job, and in the field that interests me, I know more and to the extent that I feel. I left for vacation without future the task of having to find a job and September 1 at 9:00 I was in the newsroom. I started happily and without regrets, and so I am continuing. I like to work, and do it full time is what I need. Next, that you do under 23.
Memories I've ever known. And 'my mother died when she was 19, started college and desperately needed a father who supports it. He was 57 years old, gentle dog, sweet eyes, large hands and the skin white, smooth. Curiously, I looked like the man who chose to have the right: the same white light, the same kind eyes, the same calm but determined nature. It was '73 when he died. I can only remember it through the words of those who knew him, crossed by chance and loved. Our house in Sardinia, he has built with his own hands, forty years ago, on land bought from a local landowner. What by chance I met this summer while I was on vacation. Three fingers less on hand because fishing with bombs. Reserved character, but as proud as sulky as the Sardinians than once. exchange for a tourist in search of wild boars, or prickly pear. Indeed is looking for figs, wearing camouflage and adventurous attitude. stopped him making a gaffe lawful. He tells me who is and who his mother was a great friend of my grandmother, who is he who sold us the house. I blush, and I apologize. His grandfather was my father, a brother. Everyone loved him. lucciconi makes me, but I'll show you. Yes, my grandfather was a great man, and deserved to live long enough to know, to know, me and my cousins. To do his job yet, that of police sergeant, who could do well enough to enter school premises in the books. to drive even his vintage Moto Guzzi, on which stood proudly in the saddle at age twenty, in a photo yellowed but illustrative. was beautiful, my grandfather. Affectionate, this little but really. Silent, but dull. I would love it next time. With his stories, his rooting for me, his love for the dispassionate only daughter and grandchildren, all girls. love and loyalty to his dignified wife, my grandmother, so similar to me how much he looks like my man. The tender look which appealed to children asleep when she went to work and threatened not to return. The suffering of my grandmother, maybe, if he had not married, he would have made more professional, but he might not have enjoyed the same, rare, tranquility, combined with an unusual freedom and confidence on the part of ' man who was at his side. We know one day.
sardines will call me 'doctor' no And still can not get used to it. Yesterday I phoned my professor of history and philosophy of the school, genius unforgotten and unforgettable. He said that from now on, we would have data you: he Piero, I Giulia. "Now we are the same," he said, ignoring the fact that they have thirty years of career as a professor and a culture of high school behind him monstrous, just three years of work and a working head myself. Mysteries of graduation. Yesterday I was myself, as if facing any university exam or job interview: friendly, smiling but never winking, sure of myself, talkative. All in all, I can say that it worked: one hundred and ten cum laude. And I still can not comprehend.
Wonderful interpretation of Lina Termini, is part the soundtrack of the film Giuseppe Tornatore's Malena . Looking at the roses, faded this morning, I think
"tomorrow
have softened."
And all things are like roses,
living one day
hour and no more!
But love, no.
My love can not disperse in the wind, with the roses.
is so strong that will not give
not sfiorirà . I will watch the
I will defend it from all those pitfalls poisonous
who would tear the heart,
poor love!
Maybe if I go ... On the other caresses
women looking for! ...
alas ... And if you come back
already faded
find any beauty in me ...
But love is not love my
can not dissolve the gold hair.
Since I live in me will live,
just for you!
But love letter to a troubled woman (girlfriend, felicemanontroppo with lover) Warning: DO NOT post a misogynist and / or the woman in toto, its author being a fan of the female gender, when not caught in their mistakes forever. I tell you, that you say nice-looking, aged between 20 and 30 - but even the most seasoned - with boyfriend charged and that all describe as a happy situation: stability, trips, joint projects. Suddenly, the imponderables in your life, the unexpected, the destabilizing element: the man to whom you would like your boyfriend looked like, or that represents what your partner has been and is no longer, and perhaps never will. The pleasant disturbance that shakes you enough time to find yourself dreaming about him, his body, his kisses, his sidelong glance that you peers and remains silent. feeling that is a disturbance that you want, in your little life felicemanontroppo, enough satisfactory enough until you are presented with the sudden realization that you can, want, deserve so much more. That partner became a dead weight, the more forbidden fantasy and caressing before sleeping and waking. That companion away, in another country, miles and miles away, excellent ploy to escape the loneliness without commitment, without too much involvement. The other dolcegiocososensuale a beautiful distraction, with whom kissing, fondling, petting and biting to get involved until giving way to feelings of guilt and late immature. the news that is legitimate, you show yourself happy, as if nothing had happened, as though nothing could crack your rassicurantissimo love affair. But then, down the receiver, Magone, continuing the thought that his approach paleserà in you an awareness of the inalienable your betrayal. of this betrayal that, if disclosed, will make you even more cowardly, and if you keep it hidden, you destroy. So you do: write another. words serious, solemn, never addressed so far. Words simulating a detachment that burns you deep inside, and you hope it will attract / reject more and more. After all, he is the knowledge a month, maybe two, and in this short time has brought havoc in your peaceful existence. What's that blame, accusing him of not being programmed to be an unforeseen flaw in a system that flaunts with such certainty. A weak house of cards, that only the arrival of an intriguing stranger may precipitate at any time. The other will suffer, will suffer, but then forget, hating your weakness, inconsistency as a ladies' fragile self-control that at first glance gives way to passion. Just you, doubly infrangitrice of hearts, with my heart hand say to choose. choices belong to adults, good heart, the brave and all those who meet the expectations of others while having full knowledge of his will. If follow me down this road, surely opterai the choice that anyone would expect from you: the choice easier. Abandoned, crushed under the anticipated regret and guilt hangover your irrationality, in the arms of reassuring, of course, legitimate boyfriend. refuge once more, after a short breath of fresh air and a taste of paradise in your own little world "quite happy", in you are loved but would like to flee, vanish. perhaps with a love aborted before they look out on your conscience. Choose this to the detriment of both. In spite of yourself. And I beseech you: do not.
Miscellanea I take this opportunity of this first post in May to wish good eighty hypothetical ideal icon who stole my little heart of a young woman cortocrinita: the divine Audrey Hepburn . If it were possible, I wish you (at least) another hundred of those days. Also, since as we know are almost always on the side of women, and never on this occasion, I take the ball to make an energetic clap-clap to the Italian woman of the moment: Veronica Berlusconi. Divorces and reduce it in his underwear, the only hope that I can get. A record severance pay is a fair price for 19 years of marriage to a womanizer and con man fool. returns to the lake, if you like. Of course, back to be the Miriam Bartolini than once.
A devil for nipple no doubt about it: censorship hath a devil to the nipple. A naked girl looks at the viewer, turned half. My eyes follow the clear and impertinent little curve until, in a completely unexpected in the light fades, or the steam of a bath illuminated by the sun. curve that fades into infinity has something poetic, but certainly does not satisfy the viewer hungry, voyeur by nature. Meets a lot more film censorship. Whom he may have to clear the chaste nipple Laura Chiatti from the as cast film poster of Roberto Faenza "The Case of Klara" . Justification? is too sexy. And to think that the nipple is the last bastion of female maternity. focal point of the maternal role, and while the nature of erotic desire breast. that belongs to our mother or a young & beautiful Italian actress, what's the difference? Although it is not relevant, I am reminded of the case, but editing is not censorship, navel 'disappeared' from the picture a Playboy playmate, another center of gravity of motherhood and sexuality disappears, if only for a botched job of post-production, raising the ire of readers. Increasingly, the body of 'public' woman, one overexposed by the media is manipulated and maimed, and almost always by men. In the name of propriety, in the name of beauty. And that embodies the highest value embodied by the woman - according to the Church - will disappear. Let's be honest: even in the U.S., damn bigots, the nipple would be affected the same fate. But there is a subtle difference between them and us: they are bigots, we baciapile.
Absent justified This blog has missed a month. A month full of meaning, ideas, emotions, new developments. may, in the same month, finishing his university career, his career take a turn, a consolidation of love, radically change a life? Can.
Carmela Carmela has the contagious joy of a little girl, and her face wrinkled like a field ready for planting. eyes bright, sharp, in a nondescript gray-green. In the mouth, lots of profanity and a few teeth survivors of a dripping senile, as well as a smile that warms the heart. Carmela is illiterate: he has had the opportunity to study because he had to help his father in the fields. has eighty, and was not in regret and remorse parchment. Only many memories, beautiful, and some atherosclerosis in telling me a hundred times always with the same words. As a young man, had to be nice: small, petite, big breasts, beautiful hair, a beautiful row of strong teeth, infectious laugh. A free woman. One of those who do not care what they say about her fellow villagers who never has resigned herself to widowhood, dress dark, being alone. One that has always managed to keep up with the other accomplice irony, sharp tongue and sincerity. The teenager who went to the movies and opted for the small stage to be able to make out with the young guy. The girl, though it was no longer celibate for some time, made the 'fuitina' with her husband. The young man who does not miss a village festival, a chance to dance to the sound of accordion and violin. The old woman who became her boyfriend, as usual, many years her junior. Who, for fear of trial of four sons, had with the good soul of his wife, the only phone in the evening and when she is at the country, comes to visit only at night. A Romeo & Juliet in arianoirpinese sauce, at the time of the domestic workers and dentures.
La grande bouffe not always make for pure hedonism and iron will to go beyond their limits of capacity of the intestine and decency, as in the case of the protagonists of the film Ferreri. Sometimes the cause is deeply entrenched, meandering, visible only in the eyes of those who want to watch. Flavia and bulimia. Malata's bulimia than those who binge but do not vomit, accumulates and does not eject. Between midnight raids the pantry and fridge emptied of programming, so just touching the bottom of someone being aware of our misery and desolation of our need for affection. Flavia is affectionate, "light" despite all these weights, carefree and confident despite the continuing deprivation of which is exposed by a mother and child from a grandmother's stepmother. And not for the intervention of a sympathetic father but inconsistent. now in Florence, a center for bulimia. Far from family, and then with some hope. E 'supported, understood, shock, fed, pampered without being spoiled. E 'surrounded by people who know, understand, not judge. Flavia is safe.
Frank Capra and the need for lightness In his day - we are, roughly, at the turn of the forties and fifties - regarded him as the director of "cinepanettoni" made in USA: not Miss asunder, but your spirit and happy ending. During the period when he lived and worked, between the twenties and sixties, was crucial: the years following the crisis of '29 was just needs someone to strappasorrisi tell stories, experienced by the most brilliant actors of the time - James Stewart , Cary Grant tragicomic aspects and characters that would eventually remained in the collective (the angel Clarence, who was even d ' inspiration internettara ). At a time when the most common words are "economic crisis" and "recession", the lightness is a value. Invaluable. And just look at his two masterpieces, 's a Wonderful Life and Arsenic and Old Lace ,
one of the funniest films of film history, to feel light, cheerful, optimistic. And remember to keep it, the lightness, even in times of general well-being.
