How does it feel to be on the President’s Honor Roll

So I’ve made it this time… In a previous post I was saying that I was mad about last semester and blew disappointed I was about not being named on the President’s Honor Roll ( and I am still mad about that, ‘ cause I was fully entitled to make it )… Well, apparently they decided that I can get it this time and sent me the damn piece of paper… I got it only last week, even though it was signed on May 15(‘ cause we can’t find the damn mailbox 🔑) and it was nice … Really nice, I would say… See, it’s not about the damn piece of paper and stuff… It is about the recognition of my efforts and the motivation not to give up… I have already the handicap of being a foreigner, a non- native speaker, a person who came from the 3rd world and it’s nice to get some motivation to move on even when I want to say “F*** it, it’s not worth it, I am going home”… People may say that  I am a whiner( and I am pretty much a whiner, I am not denying that 😂😂😂), but the life of a foreigner overseas is not a milk and honey one… I am not complaining, I am here because I want to be here, nobody keeps me in this world against my wish, and what I am saying is that it’s unpleasant when I get all this crappy jokes about my English and about the world that I came from, about my food and my habits, about my culture and everything else… Not getting recognition for my efforts and and my work makes it only worse… It’s not about that piece of paper, it’s about getting a little bit of joy and motivation to keep working and moving on…

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Despre superficialitatea/incompetenta unora

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Se presupune ca odata ce un specialist iese de pe bancile colegiilor/universitatior,el/ea are un anumit bagaj de conostinte, cel putin de baza. Ulterior, odata cu acumularea experientei, acest bagaj de cunostinte ar trebui sa creasca… Cel putin in teorie… Well, din pacate, lucrurile nu stau chiar asa in realitate si exemple in acest sens pot fi vazute in fiecare zi. Sa luam, drept exemplu, presa. Recent, cind s-a stins din viata regretata Ana Barbu(Dumnezeu s-o odihneasca in pace), opinia publica si  presa au fost profund marcate. Si inteleg si de ce. Nu vad nimic rau sau aiurea in acest fapt. Ce a fost aiurea, a cum a fost catalogata boala care a rapus-o pe artista. Initial, presa a numit-o “boala incurabila” si pina aici- nimic incorect sau anormal. Mai departe, insa, bola data a fost numita “cancer al muschiului”… Wait… Ce ma? Cancer al muschiului? Asta ce mai e? Artisa a decedat din cauza unei scleroze laterale amiotrofice, ce reprezinta o degenerare progresivă a celulelor nervoase de la nivelul creierului şi măduvei spinării – care controlează musculatura ta striată, dar care nu este in nici un caz cancer. Incurabila? Da. Cancer? NUUUUU!!! Adica la cit de incompeten sa fii sa scrii asa prostii? De cind orice boala incurabila este automat cancer? Serios, nu toti sunt medici, nu toti sunt obligati sa cunoasca detaliat simptomatica si evolutia oricarii boli curabile/incurabile, dar cel putin numele ei atunci cind publici ceva, este un must have. Pina la urma, presa este o metoda de informare a populatiei… Cu parere de rau, aceasta a devenoit o metoda de dezinformare a populatiei, in ultimul timp. De multe ori, prostiile ce sunt debitate intrec orice limita. Un alt exemplu in acest sens este campania de dezinformare INTENTIONATA a populatiei privind vaccinarea. Mai daunazi, cineva a dat share unui link care facea trimitere la un articol referitor la stoparea campaniei de vaccinare in Mexic… Toate bune si frumoase, numai ca titlul articlului dat a uitat sa mentioneze ca stoparea este !!! TEMPORARA!!! Adica stim cu totii ca din cauza lipsei de timp sau al lenii nu toti citesc articcolul in totalitate, si ca de multe ori “scanam” timeline-ul facebokoolui sau a altor retele sociale si a astfel de titluri sunt cel putin rau-intentionate. Un alt articol care m-a scos din pepeni zicea ca anticorpii obtinuti prin intermediul vaccinarii impotriva tusei convulsive(sau tusei magaresti, cum este cunoscuta in popor) nu sunt pentru totdeauna… Pina aici, nimic incorect… Numai ca articolul dat a uitat sa mentioneze ca acelasi lucru e valabil si pentru anticorpii obtinuti pe cale naturala, adica in cazul in care o persoana a avut tuse convulsiva… E adevarat ca anticorpii obtinuuti pe cale naturala ramin in organism pe o perioada de aproximativ 10-15 ani versus 6-8 ani al celor obtinuti pe calea vaccinarii, dar nici unii nici altii nu sunt “pentru totdeauna”. M-e sila deja de toata campania asta de antivaccinare unde un anumit jurnalist al lui peste prajit a gasit nu stiu ce informatie de pe nu stiu ce site  babafrosea.com, si considerindu-l ca fiind  adevarat in totalitate, fara sa verifice veridicitaea si credibilitatea informatiei, a decis sa il publice. Si pentru ca nu toti au studii medicale, si pentru ca nu toti inteleg cum functioneaza vaccinarea, si pentru ca nu stiu ce articol a zis ca vaccinarea este cel putin ineficienta, sau chiar periculoasa, omitind faptul ca “ingredientele” vaccinului sunt in doze foarte mici, ca expunerea este una de scurta durata (singulara, de cele mai multe ori, ceea ce fac vaccinul nepericulos pentru sanatatea recipientului sau al celor care il inconjoara), si ca aceleasi componente “periculoase” pot fi acumulate in organismul uman pe cale naturala sau in urma consumului unor produse se ajunge la concluzia ca chipurile nu ar trebui sa vaccinam. Si toate astea doar pentru ca unii nu stiu ce au facut 3-4 ani pe bancile universitatilor(sau si mai grav, nu au umblat la ore, cumparindu-si diplomele la final de studii), sau pentru ca pur si simplu sunt atit de incompetenti si/sau lenesi incit nu sunt in stare sa verifice orice informatie inainte de a o publica… Grrrrrrrrrr!!!!

P.S. Nu ca as fi redescoperit America si ca incompetenta/lenea unora ar fi ceva nou… Este, totusi, un factor teribil de deranjant ori de cite ori te intilnesti cu el, oricit de “obisnuit” nu ai fi cu el …

A forever traveler or how the nomadic way of life changed everything in my life

“We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.”

Many people I meet are always quite amazed when they are hear about my long nomadic life. And I don’t blame them. It’s been awesome. It brought me quite a few headaches, but it’s been awesome. Here is the real meaning of the nomad’s life:

Firts of all, being noman means independence and freedom. It means continuously gaining new experiences. It means full-time education. It means making connections. It means having opportunities. It means doing self-experiments. And it’s all that, all in one. Massive, isn’t it? Yes.

Vagabonding the world and living in foreign countries has opened my mind and challenged my soul. It’s part of my system, my blood, not something I can turn on and off when I want to.

But I’m not even just talking about the constant state of movement when I talk about the nomadic freedom lifestyle. Above all, being a nomad is a mindset.

But… The nomadic life also has a flipside

But being a lifelong nomad is not just fun and games. It also means giving up on the so-called certainties of this world. It means giving up on your comfort and your stability… It means not knowing ever what is going to be tomorrow, or even in a few seconds… It means prioritizing and knowing how much you want something.

Priorities or sacrifices?

For me, travelling and leading a nomadic lifestyle have been my highest priorities for a very long time. I don’t mind ‘sacrificing’ things or other possible lifestyles. It doesn’t feel like sacrifice. Why? Because I know how much my top priorities – seeing different people, different cultures, living different crazy lifestyles, and simply enjoying the way of being a tourist(unless I am in NYC, where every local hates tourists :D)

While a vagabonding life might entail those seemingly big sacrifices, these sacrifices aren’t for everyone.

However, being a traveler for me it’s like being madly in love, possibly for life. For me, travelling (and diving!) was love at first sight. I feel something comparable to love sickness when I’m too static.I get bored if I stay too long in one place… And that means troubles… A lot of troubles…

The nomad life begins the second you stop making excuses, start saving up money and make tangible plans. It means aligning your life, you plans, your attitudes, your jobs and your financial situation.

The advice I give you is not about escaping your real life, but about living your real life.

And if any doubts or demotivating questions come up, trust me when I say: Being a full-time, lifelong nomad is absolutely possible. The only catch: You really, really, really have to want it.

My life may be so different from that one of my old friends and acquaintances from my old world. Why? Well, my entire life can be packed in 2(well, 3 I guess, already :D) suitcases… I own so little because of my lifestyle, since I don’t know where I am going to be tomorrow, or even this evening… This comes with the way of  living frugally, but the reason behind is quite straight forward: Travel demands simplicity. You can’t pack your whole life in a bag, it just doesn’t work. As a nomad, you will own little, because you just can’t always take everything with you to the next place. I find, the best things in life aren’t things anyway, but experiences, people and nature. Owning little enables you to move anywhere and anytime. It’s pure freedom and it feels awesome, trust me.

Also, it is not how you see it in a Hollywood movie… Or at least, for an usual guy or gal, without a few millions(at least) somewhere on a bank account… In “real life”, life as a nomad usually doesn’t take place in five star hotels. But rather in hostels, cheap guesthouses or very affordable shared accommodation. Transport doesn’t mean (rental) cars, but local transport options (trains and buses). And that’s fine… That’s the real taste of the “real life” in the “real world”. Simple travel usually takes you much closer to local people and their culture, which is a much more authentic experience anyway.

Do your own thing

I am married and I usually travel with my husband, even though I have to do it by myself, sometimes… I’ve also met some long-term nomadic couples or families, however most travel vagabonds were by themselves. It’s one of the risks that I was mentioning a little ago, however… It’s the risk of  “traveling profession”, since it takes so much from the stability that humans seem to need so badly and not everyone could just throw it in the trash can and just adventure himself/herself to step into the unknown. It’s not easy, but it seems to be a characteristic of those who were really born and meant to be travelers.Honestly, I was always afraid for what the next destination/place/country/city would bring me, but I was also curious (and I still am) and excited to see this world, and that overcame the anxiety of risking everything that I had and knew. It is why I learned to be on my own, most of the time, without expecting somebody else to help me. At the end of the day, why would and should someone help me or someone else? People can do stuff, but they don’t have to… I learned that I can’t afford to depend on someone else for orientation and making decisions, because I could  get stuck, procrastinate and not live the real freedom a nomadic lifestyle usually entails. It is not easy, but at the end of the day, life is not easy… It’s a way of getting stronger and being independent, and that’s the outcome(one of them) of being a forever vagabond around the world…

I learned that I have to take my own  life in my hands, by taking control of my circumstances. Nothing will happen if you wait around passively for fate to come around to do it for you. Fate won’t come. So if you want to live, study or work abroad, go and start organising your plan. Executing it might be a lot of work, but no one is going to do it for you. Becoming and being a nomad takes effort.

And I actually enjoy moving.  This one might sound obvious, but I think the nomadic lifestyle is romanticized a lot without thinking about the implications. Being a nomad really actually means moving regularly. It can be anywhere from a few weeks to several months or a year, but the move is always in sight and on the radar. So if packing up and leaving to go and start in a new place is not your thing, don’t bother. I love moving. I love leaving a place and I love arriving in a new place. Butterflies are flying in my stomach(and that can be because I am so nervous, sometimes, but also, because of the excitement of seeing another part of the world).It may sound weird, but I love spending time in airports, flying, riding buses or trains, looking through the window and discovering the other worlds piece by piece. At the end, I would just drop dead for a week,, because of exhaustment, but it’s worth it.The adventure and its adrenaline overrides the physical tiredness. It’s worth every single second of it. I simply love changes and making new starts.

And yeah, I don’t have, at least, for now, a great, prestigious job. But I am ok with shit-kicking jobs. Unless you’re a rich kid, you have to make a living as a nomad. There are countless ways to work and travel around the world.  Most of them, however, aren’t  are fancy or glamorous. But when the purpose is the goal, they suffice, because they provide travel cash. I went to university and all, but I’ve worked in factories and shitty places, and that’s ok. I cleaned hotel rooms or wash dishes. I had shifts of 16 hours of work, everyday, without a single day off. But it’s ok, it was worthing it. I don’t regret a single thing or decision that I have made… I worked for very little or for free, sometimes. Chances of vagabonds ever becoming millionaires are pretty slim. Many travel jobs, especially in the non-western world, won’t pay you big bucks. But that’s not what you should be in for anyway. Some jobs might not even pay you in money but only in exchange for room and board  – but hey, that’s something (including an experience!). But a nomad keeps moving. So you’re not going to keep a ‘nomadic job’ for long, that would be a against the point of being a nomad! In all honesty, I have never maintained a steady job. The sole intention for the jobs I ever took was to fund my nomadic life, another trip, another flight. Before taking on a job, I always knew it was going to be a short-term solution for a limited period of time and quitting day loomed from day one. No extras. It means that job hunts become a rather frequent hobby. Not saving money for your pension or whatever life investment could be an issue for some folks. It’s a risk you take as a nomad. Or you’re responsible enough and make arrangements for that. Maybe one day, I will settle down and I will start coping money for my old years. But for now, I am still young enough to just see the world… Yes, I go to college here, and yes, I am thinking about a future on a long shot, but this is not a way to stop the nomadic way of life. People usually find different reasons to stay in one place, because of being afraid to take any risks. The truth, is, however, that if one really wants something, it can find a way to get it, without losing other important stuff. It asks for sacrifices, though, but it’s a way of prioritizing. And of really wanting something… It’s just necessary to really want it… And there is always a way to find a solution… Always…

Despre meandrele asigurarilor medicale din Statelor Unite

Umblatul prin spitale si cabinete medicale nu e fun si/sau ieftin nicaieri. Insa, pentru cei care nu stiu inca, sa te imbolnavesti in Statele Unite sucks la maximum. Or fi ele standartele de traament et al. la cel mai inalt nivel, dar costa al naibii… Si din pacate, am ajuns sa ma conving de asta pe propria pielea, in cel mai strict sens al cuvintului… Dar sa o incep cu inceputul… In luna ianuarie, am cazut pe scari ( stiu, suna stupid), dar am alnecat (scarile ce duc din dormitor la bucatarie/sufragerie/living room sunt acoperite cu covor) si din cauza grabei, pentru ca imi ardea ceva in cuptor, am lunecat si bah-bah, m-am rostogolit de citeva ori. Slava Domnului, nu mi-am rupt nimic, dar am “inhatat” o vinataie de toata frumusetea pe gluteus maximus (pe fund, mai pe a noastra) si citeva zgirieturi pe mina dreapta. Pina aici, toate bune si frumoase… Sau nu prea, pentru ca doua din cele trei zgirieturi/ taieturi sau ce or mai fi fost ele au luat o infectie micotica, care mi-a dat batai de cap pe vreo 2 luni, motiv pentru care am decis sa merg la medic si sa ii pun capat. Am zis ca daca tot platesc cite $120 lunar pentru asigurea mea medicala, de ce nu, pina la urma?

Vizita la medic a fost una ordinara: atitudine umana, toata lumea iti zimbeste si te intreaba daca vrei ceva de baut, bla, bla, bla. Medicul mi-a dat o reteta pentru un unguient de vreo $50, care m-a sapat de bataile de cap si disconfortul sus-numit. Partea proasta a venit abia dupa o luna, cin am deschis casuta postala si am gasit o factura de $150… Da, aparent, asigurarea mea medicala, pentru care platesc in fiecare luna si care trebuia sa imi acopere cel putin $100 din costul primei vizite la medic nu acopera nimic… Serios? Adicatelea atunci de ce naiba trebuie sa arunc in vint cite $112 si copeici lunar pentru un serviciu care nu face nimic altceva decit sa ma scurga de bani, fara sa imi ofere nici un beneficiu? Si cel mai rau e ca nu doar asigurarea mea medicala e timpa. Adevarul e ca intregul sistem de asigurari medicale al Statelor Unite e o mare “casa-malasa” in care sunt total pierduta. Acuma, colac peste pupaza, mai trebuie sa imi cheltui nervii si timpul atit de petios lamurindu-ma cu compania de asigurari de ce nu au acoperit ce trebuiau sa  aopere si sa explic spitalului de ce nu transfer suma de bani necesara pentru vizita si analizele de rigoare la timp! Cita fericire pe capul meu!  doctor_s_stethoscope_medical_record_and_health_insurance_document_concept_of_healthcare_

About Murphy’s law and ignorant people

Закон Мэрфи гласит что если чтото плохого может случится то это обязательно случиться. Ну так вот этот Мэрфи оказывается был чертовски прав… Как я это узнала? Бра просто, потомучто если Лариса может наткнутся на идиотов, то она точно на них наткнется… И это чертовски Хреного, в том плане что эти идиоты считают меня глухой и по крайней мере второсортной, если не хуже, только потомучто родилась я в другом мире… Да и не важно что разговариваю я на 5 языках, что учусь я на специальность которое требует не мало мозгов и при этом справляюсь я лучше всех, все ровно я не знаю о чем говорю… Так вот так вот, причем тут Мэрфи? Да притом, в самом элементарном смысле. На днях как-то сказала я что-то и говорю” ну вот, закон Мэрфи, боа боа бла” к чего я получаю обратно” Хахаха, какой еще закон Мэрфи? Учи английский, раз ты в этой стране”. Серьёзно, что ли? Хотелось ему сказать ” why don’t you pull up your little Google machine and check yourself и только тогда наверное поговорим о том кто глуп и кто нет” но вспомнила как моя мама говорит что если спорить с идиотом, больше идиота являешся. С другой стороны было бы терпимо если такого случилось бы впервые, но нет, блин… Вся эта стигма уже бесит по полному. Раз ты с другой стране, ты автоматически тупой как коробка и понятие не имеешь о чем говоришь… ОК, now seriously??? Ещё обиднее когда так в душе плюет человек который еле12 классов закончил… Стараюсь не обращать вниманию на таких дураков, но как с этим справлятся когда такое встречается чуть ли не каждый день? И почему все идиоты попадаются мне на глазах так часто? Все таки этот Мэрфи знал о чем говорил…

murphys_law

 

Ну вот и я 7 месяцев спустя

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Ну вот и я, обратно здесь, 7 месяцев спустя. Какой отчет на сегодня?  да вот, выдохлась, вздулась как шарик, устала как собачка,  но еще жива, и ароде как еще справляюсь.

Ну а если начать с началом, то нужно суазаиь что за 7 месяцев, увереность в себе еще больше срасшатаная и меня чуть не вырвит каждый раз когда должна что-то сказать. Столько злых комментарии услышала по поводу моего акцента и английского, что последнее что хочу это открыть свой рот. И это так обидно, так как была на той недели в Нью-Йорке и прямо специально подслушала разные разговоры на улице и точно могу сказать что у меня не самый худший акцент и английский.  Да я даже их ошибки замечала, и были люди одетые в костюмах и прочее, то есть не люди работающие в фоод сервисе, а офисные работники…

Второе, я уже не уверена в том что я умею писать уже, после этих 7 месяцев учебы в американском колледже. Все что я знала о том как писать, о стиле и другие прочие бла-бла-бла оказывается не правильно и “awkward” (ну или по крайней мере, по их стандартов). Я честно уже жду не дождучь чтобы этот кошмар-английский закончился. Везде по всех предметах получаю круглые 100+, только долбаный английский всю мою кашу портит.

Третье,  я очень разочарована в общей отношении. Не смотря на все мои стараний и результаты, все ровно их отношения как к второсортного человека. Элементарно, в феврале, декан колледжа отправлял письма с поздравления  тем студентам у которых GPA 3.3 и больше.  У меня он был 3.75. Как думете, получила я кусок бумаге со словами”Молодец, не сдавайся, мы видем твои старания”? Чертов с два! Видима таким людям как я даже такого не положено.  Это пипец как обидно, так как у меня здесь нмкаких поблажек не пологаются и я в порядке, я знала на что подписываюсь, но вот этот кксок бумаге ничего никому не стоило, могли бы и мотивировать стараться дальше… В конечнм итоге, плачу я этого колдеджа не копейки, а целые $ 10.000 в год. Думаю из них, моги бы купить А4 лист, распечатать долбаного шаблона еще один раз и отправить мне самой дешевой почтой те самые пару слов “Kerp going, don’t give up”. Ah well, суди по всему, даже это не заслуживают самые блестящие студенты,  которые платят сумашедшие денги, но которые родились в другой стране.

Ну а если говорить о хорошего, то нужно сказать что почти везде, я одна из самых лучших (кроме английского, где все всегда может быть так субьективно) и все мои однокурсники так удевляються как же могу я их бить, на их же территорию.

Еще, теперь мне нравятся всякие предметы которых я терпеть не могла всю свою жизнь, типо как математика, химия,  биология и прочая херь. И самое милое это то что я хорошо справляюсь по таких предметов, хотя раньше я не особа блестала по них… как же все может меняться в один миг… ну или больше мигов 😄😄😄😄😄

Ну вот так вот… Такие дела которые могут быиь совершенно по другому черкз полгода, месяц, недели, завтра, или через час. .. Я никогда не была мастером планирования,  но сейчас я и не пробую ддаже…Все так мгновенно в этом мире может менятся и это просто шокироваюшее…

College life started!!! Yay!!!

So, this is the very first day of my college life here in United States. It is not my first time going to school here, but that’t the first time when the school is a college, not just an ESL thing.

And I am happy. I am happy because I start building my life in that way that I am dreaming about during the last a million years.

But I am so damn scared, only God and I know how scared I am.

First of all, English is not even my second language, As a matter of a fact, it is the 3rd or 4th one. And I speak it a pretty good level, but this is not an academic level, it is an every day language. And from now, I would have to use another style of the same language… And this is scary…

Plus, my professors are scaring me. They can forgett that I am an international student, not an American that speaks this language for their entire life.

And now, my first impressions about this very first day.

I came here at 8 and something in the morning(after I arrived here after midnight from the very crazy and loved NYC). I had to find how to get to F building for a few good minutes, but after all, I got there(this campus is really spread all over the place and there are so many buildings, bah!!!) My first class was English. It was kind of weird and strict. The professor, she looks like being strict. I am not putting any stamps on anybody’s foreheads before I get to know them, but this was my first impression.

Then I had to go to another building for my history class. I finally got there and found the classroom. And I can definitely say that I love my history teacher. I mean, I don’t know her, but she looks like a very very nice person and open-minded teacher. I spent there an hour and fifteen minutes, but I didn’t feel how the time flew!!! Yay!!!

My next class starts at 4.30 pm so since I had 4 hours and a tail, I decided to go and buy books. Damn, here in United States, books are so expensive! Gosh, I paid $106.35 for 2 books and only one is bought, because my English Book is rented. And I also have my SDV, Psychology and Medical class ant I still need to buy these books. Gosh, that’s a fortune for 2 books. And one is rented. If I had to buy it I would have to pay around $94 for it!!! 😦

Now I have this 4 hours gap between my psychology class and I eat my first college meal: a cobb salad and a Turkey and Cheese sandwich. I am looking forward to see what my next a few classes would have for me, but overall, the begin is not so bad. I am still scared to death, but I am happy and excited in the same time!!!

Life is good, just have to know how to enjoy it 🙂