I was there: P-town, USA. A summer tale

As on Wikipedia.
Provincetown is a New England town located at the extreme tip of Cape Cod in Barnstable County, Massachusetts, United States. The population was 3,431 at the 2007 census. Sometimes called "P-town", the town is known for its beaches, harbor, artists, tourist industry, and its status as a gay village... Provincetown is located at the tip of Cape Cod. The town's total area is 17.5 square miles(45 km²), 9.7 square miles (25 km²) of it being land and 7.8 square miles (20 km²) of it water. 
http://www.ptownchamber.com

Trough my eyes...

Provincetown is simply said a magic town. The land of all posibilities.

 No kidding, you can find anything there: beautiful nature, beautiful harbour, cheap accomodation, great food, well-paid jobs, loads of gays and lesbians, loads of gay people having sex at the corner of every bar once the night falls, the most ugly lesbians you could ever see, interesting museums, old houses with loads of angry ghosts, expensive houses( well, less expensive than in England) and luxury cars, drag queens with amazing voices and shows, very very pretty police-officers, old ships, whales and dolphins, Pilgrim Monument, sex-shops,singers, actors(famous), loads of art galleries, dirty old guest houses, great beaches and wildlife, powerfull storms, 3 huge cemeteries( more graves than alive residents), gay-parade, good icecream, great restaurants, lively parties , clothes for your dogs and cats, strange art, spooky old houses. And all the rest.

Freedom. Freedom of feeling free and expressing yourself. Joy. This is Provincetown. 

My advices:

-do not try to get topless on the beach, not even on deserted beaches. You might be arrested or you might get a fine. police won't condemn the public sex between gays, but will condemne you if you dare to show your breasts on the beach

- do go on a romantic dinner at Lobster Pot restaurant( best food and drink in town). right on the beach. you won't find anywerelse another restaurant where people quee outside even in the rain to be able to get a spare table.

-do not get accomodation on old guest houses. never!

-do go to a drag queen show. their shows are amazing

-do visit the art galleries and the Pilgrim Monument 

-do go early to disco...they all close at 1 am

-do go to see the whales out in the sea: a lifetime experience

-try to prevent toothaches...you won't find easy a dentist there and if you do find it will rip your wallet off!

one of the old ships in the harbour

Pilgrims monument at night

a day in P-town

cars of Ptown

the way they dress...is to impress

view from Pilgrims monument 

Pilgrims monument garden

one of the piers

a whale in action...they are bigger than they seem

sushi time

A quick real story about the ugly little pervert boy on that cold musty wall...

Here I am in this dark and cold room.  Light drops of water running down my spine. I just came out from the shower( the first in 72 hours), but it was the fastest shower I ever had due that strange whisper into my ear. I saw a glance of that little blonde and messy girl, peaking at my nakedness, almost envious on my curves . It was just a glance, one blink of my tired eyes, and puff she was gone. But her whisper ...her cold breath into my ear... '' get out of here''...
 My eyes piercing trough  the  musty  canvas, looking for a beam of light , hoping that he will stop pouring out his ugly spirit. I can feel the hate, it surrounds me, but I keep telling to myself '' you have been awake for 72 hours straight, is just a dream'.
But it was not a dream.
 It was a small room, everything so old, older than the world itself. Old, dirty, smelly and decadent. I could almost see in that bed the maid who gave her soul while being submissive to her master. The wife loosing herself in that dusty mirror, waiting for her miserable time to pass and cursing the day that took her beauty. That dog barking mad at the small hungry rat...and that little boy ...Oh that little boy, if you could see the hate in his eyes.
Here lays the proof, 200 years old: a huge canvas portraying him and his little ugly dog( the ugliest dog you could ever see). Just across the bed, facing those huge pillows that I will have to sleep in.
I drag myself into bed, I need to sleep , I didn't sleep for 72 hours. The bed smells like rotten eggs and bloody flesh. I did not expect for America to be like that! Not for 70 bucks a night!
I curse the moment when I entered  this guest house and start to count the sheeps on the wall. That bloody old clock keeps me awake and the little boy on the wall keeps on winking...letting me know that he likes me. I remember I am still almost naked, did not have the chance to drop my towel and slip into my night robe.I can see his hand stroking the dog's head, up and down, up and down...at moments I can see his other hand reaching towards me, inviting me...omg there he goes, he is trying to rip himself out from that painting... and he keeps on winking , winking, almost glad I intruded his dirty old house.
Pervert ghost!
I fall asleep ...I don't know when...I don't know how. Perhaps I just fainted, for a long time...
A dog's barking gets me out of bed at 9 in the morning. No, not that ugly dog on the wall, but a real one. The dog of my hosts. They knock to my door to let me know that breakfast is ready. But I excuse myself, I try to convince them I'm not hungry.
How the hell could I eat out of those dirty hands?  Duh...
I pay them for the night but before I leave I make sure to let them know how bad I slept and how bad my bed smelled!
Provincetown, MA, 02657, USA, 2008. A guest house , 200 years old victorian house,  managed and let by  a couple of young dirty gays. Has the same features, old furniture, old everything. Nothing has changed but extremely dirty. So dirty you can smell all the visitors that once slept in those huge beds. 70 $ a night and you get bonus some ugly ghosts...and a really ugly boy that winks to every female that will sleep into his bed.  On the main street: Bradford street.
Later, in the summer months, I found out more about the history of that house. And is quite a history!
The room I slept in belonged to that little ugly boy and he did have a younger sister, a blonde curly one. So afterall it was not just me lacking a 72 hours sleep ...
Be warned!
P.s. That house belonged to them...

my wedding slides...for bridal inspiration

http://www.youpluswephotography.com/slideshows/vladroxana/

simply dreamcatcher. the legend.

''The dream net has been made
   For many generations
Where spirit dreams have played.
  Hung above the cradle board, 
  Or in the lodge up high, 
The dream net catches bad dreams, 
  While good dreams slip on by.
Bad dreams become entangled
  Among the sinew thread.
Good dreams slip trough the centre hole, 
  While you dream upon your bed.
Since dreams will never cease, 
  Hang this dream net above your bed, 
Dream on, and be at peace.''


"A spider was quietly spinning his web in his own space. It was beside the sleeping space of Nokomis, the grandmother.Each day, Nokomis watched the spider at work, quietly spinning away.
 One day as she was watching him, her grandson came in. "Nokomis-iya!" he shouted, glancing at the spider. He stomped over to the spider, picked up a shoe and went to hit it.
"No-keegwa," the old lady whispered, "don't hurt him." 
"Nokomis, why do you protect the spider?" asked the little boy.The old lady smiled, but did not answer. 
When the boy left, the spider went to the old woman and thanked her for saving his life. He said to her, "For many days you have watched me spin and weave my web. You have admired my work. In return for saving my life, I will give you a gift." He smiled his special spider smile and moved away, spinning as he went. Soon the moon glistened on a magical silvery web moving gently in the window. "See how I spin?" he said. "See and learn, for each web will snare bad dreams. Only good dreams will go through the small hole. This is my gift to you. Use it so that only good dreams will be remembered. The bad dreams will become hopelessly entangled in the web."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1NQ2q6GjfBA&feature=related

Not for the faint of hearth...

''1 Now the serpent was the shrewdest of all the creatures the LORD God had made. "Really?" he asked the woman. "Did God really say you must not eat any of the fruit in the garden?"

2 "Of course we may eat it," the woman told him.

3 "It's only the fruit from the tree at the center of the garden that we are not allowed to eat. God says we must not eat it or even touch it, or we will die."

4 "You won't die!" the serpent hissed.

5 "God knows that your eyes will be opened when you eat it. You will become just like God, knowing everything, both good and evil."

6 The woman was convinced. The fruit looked so fresh and delicious, and it would make her so wise! So she ate some of the fruit. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her. Then he ate it, too.

7 At that moment, their eyes were opened, and they suddenly felt shame at their nakedness. So they strung fig leaves together around their hips to cover themselves.''

 Genesis, Bible, somewhere in time and space.

How shall I start?

Let me put it this way. Like many others I have a hobby or more. My obssession better said is with 'the other world': parallel universes, dreams , ghosts, spirits, life after death, aliens...you name it. My imagination knows no limits. 

The question is ...what will you do when you will realise your imagination becomes reality?  when you discover that everything you thought is a legend is actually real? and how will you deal with it? will you eat the forbidden fruit to understand the mistery of EVERYTHING?

A great scientist was once saying that we humans we use only a limited percentage of our brains to rationalise. The truth is that our brains have no boundaries...we just need to find that forbidden fruit .No, it must not be that green apple that you buy from the market just across your street. I had many of those apples and all they did ...well, they just helped my digestion work better and in some case they bloated me like a baloon.

Since I was a child I had many odd experiences. Odd dreams becoming real(premonitions some will name), odd shapes just there, in the corner of my eye when not paying attention,

odd beautiful smell in my room coming out of nowhere, just after my grandma died, odd pressure on my body while sleeping...and so on. 

I travelled in many old places, with rich culture and antique background...and everywhere I had the same odd feelings, but nowwhere like in England and USA. 

I was quite attracted by England and those ghost stories allways made my hair stand up. But one thing is to sit in front of a fire on a cold rainy day and listen to your grandma stories and another thing is to experience the whisper and the spectre of ...something really strange. 

Till I come back with more details, I advise you watch 'The Others'  and 'The sixth sense'. 

Sleep well tonight!

Provincetown,Pilgrim Monument and Museum, USA,2008
the spookiest doll I've ever seen

a special tought for my best friends forever...politicians. aka 'all politicians go to hell'

While walking down the street one day, a politician is tragically hit by a truck and dies. His soul arrives in heaven and meets with St.Peter at the entrance.
'Welcome to heaven ' says St.Peter. 'Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see around these parts a high official, you see, so we are not sure what to do with you.'
'No problem, just let me in' says the politician.
'Well, I'd like to but I have orders from higher up. We will have you spend one day in hell and one day in heaven and then you can decide where you will spend the rest of eternity.'
'Really, I've made up my mind, I want to stay in heaven' says the politician
'I'm sorry, we have our rules'. And St. Peters escorts the politician to elevator and then down, down in hell.The doors open and he finds himself on the green golf course.
In the distance there are loads of beautiful women,  his long-lost friends and other politicians that worked with him, all dressed in evening dresses.They run to greet him, hug him and remember the good old times they had while getting rich on other's expenses. They play a friendly game of golf, eat lobster and caviar. Also present is the devil( a politician as well) who really is a friendly guy who has good time dancing and telling jokes.
They are having such a good time that, before he realises, is time to go. Everyone gives him a hug and wave at the elevator that is going up, up, up.
Up in heaven, St Peter gives him the tour. 24 hours pass with the politician joining a group of contended souls, moving from a cloud to another, playing the harp and singing. the hours pass and here comes St. Peter.
'Well, you have to decide, where will you spend your eternity?'
He reflects for a minute, then the politician says:' Well, I would never have tought it, I mean...don't get me wrong, heaven has been delightfull, but I think I'll be better off in hell.'
'As you wish' says St. Peter and escorts him back to escalator.
He goes down, down, down, further down, in hell. The doors open and he is standing in the middle of a barren land covered with garbage and waste.He sees ugly women, and his friends dressed in rags, picking up trash and looking for food in the garbage.The devil comes to politician and lays an arm on his neck.
'I don't understand, cries the politician. Yesterday I was playing golf with beautiful women, eating caviar and lobster, we danced and had a great time telling jokes. Now this dirty place and my friends look so miserable.What happened?'
The devil looks at him, smiles and says:
'Yesterday we were campaining. Today you voted for us!'

Another pair of shoes...

And another one...and another one...and another one. 
My cupboard is stuffed with shoes that I don't really wear and with shoes that I never had the occasion to wear. And ofcourse with shoes with sky-scraper heels that I will never be able to wear !
And still...yesterday I saw THE PAIR OF SHOES. The goddes of the shoes. I felt the fire in my eyes...consuming me, pushing me towards them...giving me that beast instinct of wanting to devore the prade...till I saw the price. Yes, the mother of all prices. 6000 £. A pair of Laboutins. 
Then I came down to reality and told to myself: nah...is quite an ugly pair! 
But I still want another pair...and another one...and another one...

purple haze

I'm quite in a strange mood tonight so I'll get a bit of Nigel Kennedy. The sounds of his violin  gets me  in quite a trance...so here I am talking nonsense while my spirit is somewhere over the rainbow, sipping wine and laughing his ass at the nonsense I'm writing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOLkRlbVYcI

not just a housewife.hope never a desperate housewife

Right.Today I have this urge to express myself. A lot. Like the urge of wanting to pee....
Allways, since I started to think(yes, women do think!) ....scrap that. 
I allways believed in god, aliens,ghosts,rebirth,destiny,kharma( even if these don't go together hand in hand) ...but I never believed  I will be a wife, and even worse a housewife.

Washing socks and undies, preparing food (hence smelling all the time like fish and garlic), cleaning windows and floors, changing dipers, washing my hair once a week and watching soap operas!and from time to time listening to  husband's moanings that he misses his mom's great food!
yea, sounds good if you are totally into pain/bondage/all the other fetish stuff! So I quite suffer for the 'lucky' multitasking ladies.
However, as crazy as it might sound... I find a quilty pleasure in serving good meals to my husband( discovered a good afrodisiac in garlic btw), washing his socks and undies, taking care of him when crying like a baby( yes, men never grow up). And all the other stuff.
I'm not a desperate housewife and don't think will ever be. I've got a pleasant job,  He is eating my burnt food, sometimes prepares me a nice breakfast, from time to time gives me a good massage...and the best part...sex is better since we got married!
Come back in another year or so and I'll let you know if I'm desperate.
Till then, all the single ladies, put a ring on!

new home fund

If you're after a new pad,
and no longer want to roam...
Start a little nest egg, 

and buy your very own

a short story in pictures. how I became a wife(trough the eyes of Ross Tanner from youpluswephotography)

Not just another wedding! My wedding!

End of august 2008
“Will you be my wife?’’  …With tears in my eyes, streaming on my sun overburned  face, gazing at the big shiny diamond on my finger and loosing myself in the crowd’s screams ‘’say yes, say yes, say yes’’, I swear to my lover ‘yes, I do’!

Next day, after a magic  sex marathon, we call our parents on the other end of the globe...and from here everything is quite a story.

Back home from USA and still daydreaming at the magic experiences I had there,I waste some time getting informations about perfect weddings. I have no idea how a wedding should be...but I’m glad there are friends, and family, and internet and magazines. Yea, right, goodluck! His parents wants to pay for the wedding...but us, oh no, we want the wedding born from our own budget. So we decide to spend some time and work till we drop in other dreamland, UK. Not as good as USA

An idea winks back at me: THE DRESS. Yes, the one and only. I only know it has to be white and long and sexy. Enough said.

We start a brainstorm of how our wedding should be. I dream at a you+me  beach wedding, He wants his family present, He wants traditional wedding, I hate our stupid traditions, He wants a big wedding , I don’t want to spend that much, He gets stressed, I cry, we make love, we fight, I cry again ...after a month we agree. Big fancy wedding in our town, on the lake, in may at our 8^th anniversary.We need godfathers so we take both his sisters.Afterall, our love grew bigger under their loving eyes.

We think about the honeymoon...but just think, we don’t afford it yet.

13 months before the wedding

Get back at home on a mini vacation. We find the restaurant on the lake.Yes the one.Beautiful location, nice restaurant, good reputation. My brain produces some negative thoughts, but I save them for myself. Afterall, the lake is still water.true, smaller than the sea. But thats ok, we will make love on the beach on our honeymoon. 90 guests wedding...Yes.

We organise a small engagement party. Our parents and sisters meet for the first time in 8 years. Hell yea, shame on us!
We visit the church and sign the contract. Yes, for church. I really really wanted a bigger church, out of town, but the church is expensive...yes, you read well, the church is expensive! It burns your wallet ! Well, welcome to wedding industry !
We think again and this time we think about the music. We do not have time to look for a band  so we put our faith into our family’s hands, who produce for us a ‘’ good band’’.We do not have time to admire them live, but that’s ok, we put the faint into his sister’s taste...What???

They sign the contract( yes, another contract, wedding is all about contracts, so you should get yourself some good negociation skills) and we go back in England. Duty calls, what you think? We do’nt afford vacations now! Shortly after that we receive a dvd with our amazing band...We want to rip our hearts out and shave our heads! He gets stressed, I cry, we fight, we make love and then he cries. Cry me a river! Nice band, nice voices, but nice is NOT the word for our wedding. Anyway, we decide to go ahead, we do not afford more than 1300 £ for a band.:(

11 months before...After long white nights , red swollen eyes, I finally find it, Maggie Sottero .My precious! (sounds familiar?:) We make a stormy visit in London to view the dress. The shop attendant looks freaked when she sees us. How come a bride comes to view the dress with the future groom? That’s f...g impossible. But what, we have our own ideas. We don’t believe in badluck, just in love and god. His opinion is like the recipe book for me. I can’t do without it. He gazes with lust at me and tells me how beautiful I am. He likes the dress...and he likes the future bride. He wispers to my ear he wants me undressed. My face turns red, burning like a roast chicken...but I  get real and undress. 1000 £ is way too much for a dress that will only be worn 24 hours and then destroyed in countless  Trash the Dress sessions. He wants to buy it, I don’t. He is annoyed I am so cheap ..., but we agree afterall to search for another less expensive dress.

10 months before...We go home again , we need to solve some wedding related issues. We give jobs to families: alcohol, as much as possible, venue , stationery, flowers and all the stuff.We get our band rings..so romantic.My heart pumps so much love! We choose the wedding invitations. The perfect ones are to  be funny, just like us!  We buy them fast and leave them with parents to give them away....and they do it  so fast, everybody wayting for our wedding.

8 months before...I found another dress. Again we storm in the shop and again the shop assistant and again what the f..., how come the bride comes with the groom to try on the dress, and again that’s impossible. Oh, common, grow up woman, is the 21 century!

Unfortunately for me the one I like is not in stock so I put the order and wait 2 months till is to be mine. My precious! And is not a fortune, only 400 £. And the best thing ...is the one I always dreamt at since I was 10 and inlove with dresses from Sailor Moon cartoon( anybody, rings any bell?:)
6 months before. Is the most important , is tormenting us: wedding photographer. I have no idea how much he costs  and what requests he has. I browse some sites and blogs, some wedding albums are horror to my eyes, some inspire me and make me dream. Our photographer should be warm and friendly, be able to  capture our love and quite important make me look beautifull in all the pictures( what? Im not a goddess) .

Some fotographers that we like have our day already booked, one  doesn’t like our faces, one won’t come down to reality from his precious throne..”! Finally, after long debates, we find the one. THE PERFECT ONE.

We book the honeymoon, 8 beautiful days on a stranded island. Gran Canaria, here we come!
5 months before I buy my beautiful veil( 120 £, here I didn’t care it will empty my wallet), his nice groom attire and other small things.

We start to train for our first dance, but we are really really...horror. Anyway, enjoy Frank Sinatra ‘I got you under my skin’ , interrupted by ‘grease-you are the one that I want’.( you should see the face of my husband everytime we watch the video with our dance...he hides his head in the pillows just like the ostridge in the sand-that bad we were!... kidding, not so bad)
4 months before I dream about my bridal hair and make-up, I get stressed, I cry and cry and cry. A real bridezilla! As Im still in England, I ask my godparents to find me a good hairdresser and a good make-up artist. So again I put myself and wedding in danger! You know, the make-up I could do it myself, but I’m sure my hands will shake like mad on the big day.

We find and buy the perfect wedding favours: small golden boxes with perfumes. From e-bay.Really.

I nominate my bridesmaids, the dearest girls in my life: my sisters and his nieces.5 alltoghether, my guiding angels.

News from home! From 90 guests we reached 130.WTF? We panic, the restaurant is not big enough, we talked about 90 the maximum and now we will get all the village with cats and dogs and all the rest! Lucky us, pfeww, we have a big terrace, just hope in may will be warm enough and sunny.

4,3,2,1 month ... and almost married.

3 weeks before the big day we meet with our great Photographer( Ross Tanner from Youpluswephotography- he is quite cute btwJ) and we play a bit with camera, make some stunts, get childish...engagement session. We can’t wayt for our wedding! But...bad luck, Island volcano Reghchnhjjfuckinghellwhatalongname erupts and cuts all flights in and out of England. How will we get home then? I want to get married!

We get home finally after 2 quite bad days with the coach and start to prepare for the big day. We relax as much as we can, get some facial treatment( cosmetic ones, what do you have in mind?), learn to dance...and put my chastity belt for 2 weeks. I want an intense first night, and what a better idea than to stop my hubby to eat from the forbidden tree? 2 weeks without sex felt like a sea without fish, like a desert without water, like a horse without the rider...you name it!:) Probably that’s why my husband was screaming like mad at everyone on our wedding day. Lack of sex will eat you alive!

1 week before...

I don’t really remember anything from that week. Everything felt so chaotic, just like a dream. We had our civil ceremony 2 days before the wedding. The ‘make-up’ artist ( make-up artist my ass) made me look and feel like a clown( my husband could not find my face under all that make-up). But it wasn’t the end of the world. I cried a river during the civil ceremony( yes, 5 minutes, this is the length ): tears of happiness plus tears of pain due to the horror makeup. But when the officer pronounced ‘wife and husband’ all the worries were somewhere with Lucy in the sky. Thats it, I was a wife and nothingelse mattered! My husband loves me anyway!

The big day!

Well, that’s another story. A beautiful one.More beautiful than this. 

looking back to our origins

National Museum of the American Indian in New York

How I saw the lights of this world

One day mum and dad had nothing better to do so they decided to ...create me. 
Very wise decision indeed. The world must be happy to have me!:)
Some wise or crazy theories( call them as you wish), ofcourse created by those who have time to waste, say that children choose the family before even being born. So my spirit , after wondering ages and ages somewhere between dreams and parallel universes, decided to take a break and ...puff, here I am. Standing in front of my overheated laptop on a rainy saturday, with nothing better to do while the love of my life breaks the keyboard with World of Warcraft.
Some other crazy stories say that in this beautiful world there is a big beautiful bird , with long legs and gracious neck, who , when has some time to waste, puts a sweet child in the bag and drops this little treasure straight in the arms of a lovely lady ...probably this is how I got my sisters.
But, I am  not 5 anymore. So I choose the first crazy story , the one with 'my parents had nothing better to do' 
No matter how much I struggle, no matter how much I squeeze my brain, my memory refuses to tell me what I saw first when I was out...but I tend to think it was a bright light at the end of the darkest tunnel (sounds familliar?:) Shinning in my face, probably like this: