People in my memory wait in stillness.

I probably am not the only one who has experienced this strange feeling. There have been times I have said goodbye to a friend, even if just for the night or even if it was meant to be a 'see you later' sometime in the future (due to my multiple moves), and starting from a few moments later they are in dragged into my present and months to come... I still picture that person exactly where I left them. Whether they were by a sidewalk, or on the door of their house, or at a party. Somehow I'm unable to disconnect to that last image I have had of them. I maybe romantically and absurdly convince myself that they will be exactly where I left them. I'm talking about all my friends I have spread around the globe. They don't age, they don't move from where I last saw them, they just sit still like a photograph on a shelf waiting to be picked up and dusted.

What just made me think of this? I've been aware of this way of thinking of mine for a while. Maybe it's a some sort of shield I use to protect myself. As long I believe my loved ones are exactly where I left them I have no worries. I will miss them but I will find them back in the exact same shape and location... maybe it's my obsessive compulsive disorder that surfaces even in my way of remembering people.

I once again ask myself: What made me think of this? Believe it or not that monster tool called Facebook is to blame! As you all know it loves to give you a preview of people you might know. Well I accidentally saw some people I used to know... and to my surprise... TOTAL SURPRISE!!!.... their children who were born right before I moved abroad... they are now almost 20 years old! WTF??? Weren't they supposed to stay babies forever? This is what happened before the Facebook era. You just were clueless of the time going by. Everything remained the same as you left it and survived in your memory in a dream like ever green state. Not anymore, now all these social networks have to remind me that time does go by, people change, they move, they even grow up without my permission!!!

I'm not sure I like all this technology sometime. Now I feel old... which makes me feel restless. Why can't we stop time? Why can't we time travel? I feel like all the people I know have a clone who still and always will live in my memory universe where nothing ever ages.

Are Classy Places Just So Trashy?

Have you ever noticed how the classiest and most elite places at some point always end up attracting the trashiest crowd? If a place is a dive from the beginning, it will remain a dive forever, there is no chance that it will upgrade to be a "creme de la creme" place. However when an extra hot spot opens up, it's just a matter of months if not weeks before all the Riff-Raff will happily put roots in the new "hard to get in" 5 Star Hotel Lounge. Those places are polluted with "high class" hookers! They are everywhere and I assure you they are NOT classy! They look beat down, with their plastic surgery gone bad, teeny-tiny outfits that make them look like they are 15 years old... until you get a closer look and almost a heart attack from the encounter with the real MUMMY! Can we say: Horrifying? Are they there just to find their next victim? Don't these women have goals or pride or self-esteem? Women like that make me feel ashamed to be a woman! They are just there, hoping to find men who will buy them expensive label crap and more silicone for their ridiculously deformed lips. Men who frequent those lounges are not much better material. They will only look for women who lack in gray matter... therefore they happily and successfully hunt for the available females who will laugh at their dumb and predictable jokes.
I thought that by going there I would meet intelligent people with good careers I could relate to. I was hoping to meet people who can handle a conversation that stimulates my curiosity and lights up my creativity. Yet I found myself yawning... or laughing thanks to my good sense of humor.

My belief is: Money will not make smart nor beautiful. Having a Dior, or Chanel, or whoever else's purse has a price tag, it can be very high, but it still has a price... having a brain and the ability to use it: PRICELESS!!! And this is where I somehow get upset! How come I'm not a millionaire? I'm much smarter than most of the people I scouted there!!!

The "Horses" Race = The 2 Sides of Milan

Milan is one of this city that has a dramatically split personality's society. One side is jammed with people who are eager to fight for people's rights and protest the government in every artistic way they can imagine; the the other side is highly enjoying the actual situation while showing off their branded belongings. They are two tribes. Just as tribes they distinguish themselves with their looks and behaviors. As I must always be extreme in all my choices and decisions I have managed once again to mix myself in both crowds... moved by my curiosity, my hunger to learn, and my acceptance and interest in understanding people's choices.
Therefore a couple of weeks ago I decided to go visit the two big famous Milan's race horses! LeonCavallo vice JustCavalli!!!

My Friday Night at LeonCavallo.
LeonCavallo is a made up word that literally translated means "LionHorse". It's the largest Cummnunity Center in Milan. This is not the typical community center you will find in the States... it an enormous establishment who has been taking over by local citizens, some of them even live there! The center is huge, it has several rooms that can be used for theatrical performances, concerts, meetings, parties, book readings... you get the point. They even offer a funky library and a every smoky and greasy diner... and a potent smell of pot! It's a mixture of older people who want to talk politics and be serious, younger people who live in a hippie/rastah way, artists who want to express themselves and a bunch of immigrants mostly from Africa. Somehow they all seem to get along, and they all call each other "amico" of "fratello" (buddy or brother). It's funny how a place that has such a bad reputation for being the center of protests and always in the target of authorities (who would love to shut them down), it just feels so relaxed and laid back. They don't care who you are, where you come from, and what you do for living. They urge to talk about famous writers, philosophers, politicians, history, story about their travels and exchanging ideas. How inspiring and cool! How ironic that my father has always been SO scared of such places.

My Saturday Night at JustCavalli.
Do you want to experience the total opposite? Here we go! This is a fancy club whose owner is nonetheless fashion designer Roberto Cavalli. You must be on the list! I am! You must dress to impress! I did! You (especially women) must be hot! Well, I wore enough make up and black clothing to pass! And most important of all you must ACT! And I mean: Act Like An Ass! I excel in this too... just for fun! I never saw so many girl models all in one place. They are probably still in their teens, with their beautiful flawless skin, never ending legs, and austere look on their faces. There are tons of men who are wildly jumping around to the beat of the techno music in hope to be seen by the goddesses... and all in a sudden I just crack up laughing! I get this picture in mind where the models are beautiful giraffes and the older, shorter, not so attractive men are hyenas with rabies trying to get at least to lick their thin ankle! This is so pathetic yet hilarious. Around them there a few completely fucked on coke individuals who have no clue what to do with themselves as they are waaaaayyy too alert by 5am! And while wearing the Armani suits they think "how about i punch this asshole?". The atmosphere was very tense and stressful, especially around the many not so young ladies with their giant plastic boobs and lips who would give your the look of death if you dared to dance too close to their sugar-daddy!

In the end, from this research I can assure you there is something for everyone's taste here!