Lucky bloody clover

I never really recognized it, but I’m a lucky person. Usually, I miss all the buses, and it rains when I’m dressed in white. Then in the most important and formal moments, something bad happened, like I slip on caw’s shit or simply on the street (both happened).

I made some of my life’s decisions following this good luck proved above. I was really lucky in the most difficult moments of my life. I followed the “signs” which supported my decisions or which reminded me who I am, where I go, what I want, how I smile, how I think, laugh or what I dream about.

Approximately, one year ago, I met, by coincidence, the most interesting and intelligent Romanian man I ever met till then, in the New York-Philadelphia bus. We talked three hours like we knew each other for a long time. Without any intention and without knowing, Oscar from Tecuci working in Manhattan put my life upside down and helped me in three hours in a way that a psychologist would have helped me in two years of hard work on her/his couch. It was my first visit to New York which started with a… car crash. The crush made us to be late, and lucky we were late and we caught the last bus… also caught by Oscar.

After one year, it’s the moment of hard questions such us: is it worthy to live in Romania where nothing goes well and everyone steals? are you happy in Romania? The answers are hard to give and these are harder than reality sometimes. As I’m a lucky person, if you remember, yesterday I was slapped (it didn’t happen, it’s just a metaphor).

I was slapped with a point of view that I never thought about: every time I complain about Romania I hurt someone with my words and attitude. This someone is a man whose ideas and actions I respect, he is the man who still fights to change this country in a way that all of us want. I hurt the man who sleeps few hours per night, complains almost never, works a lot and who succeeded to positively change things and people. I have to thank to this extremely interesting and intelligent (and arrogant, to quote him) Romanian man that I met recently. He reminded me how I was thinking two years ago and, surprisingly, Romania made a lot of progress in these last two years. So why do I complain? Am I mad on the progress? This time there was no crash, but I did have a small accident.

Bonus: How do I know that there is an interesting person in front of me? That’s simple: I start to lose my words, to say stupid things, to understand little from what she/he says, to transform every interesting thing of my life in the most boring one, to act as a blonde, to walk in a funny way, to look as a hypnotized person, and in the end I’m mute. And then I know that the person who is in front of me is unpredictable like a good movie and he/she deserves all my attention.