I just realized today, January 1st 2010, that I haven't written anything in a while. Apart from emails, Facebook posts, Facebook comments, online ad copy, I have seriously not taken the time to write a single sentence that relates to me and my life. Since my last post, many things have happened that have shifted the gears of my life. Here's a small recap for all the months I spent away from the Blerina-D blogspot:
1) Graduated with an MBA from Golden Gate University. Chose the worst time to concentrate in Finance, but who knows, it may come in handy when I turn in that business plan to the VCs (wishful thinking of course, but my husband believes in me and my future as a company-owner). The fact that there's a "With Honors" after the concentration field may serve to distract people from the fact that I was a Finance major. Disclaimer: Had to throw that in, you know my mom reads this blog and it makes her happy to hear her Blerina performs well in school ;)

2) For the ones who are confused to hear me referring to my boyfriend as my husband, I might have forgotten to mention this: I am now married. How do you feel you ask? Strange. Nothing has changed between Ken and I except for the fact that I check his ring finger every two hours to make sure the ring my mom bought for us is still on his finger. I proceed to request from him to assure me of the fact that he will never, ever, ever lose it. Don't know why I am this paranoid. Might have something to do with the fact that he keeps playing with it on a constant basis.

So back to me feeling strange. After 4 years of dating, it feels interesting calling someone your husband. I keep referring to him as my "hubby" every morning in hopes of getting used to it.

3) Working in Online Advertising in Manhattan. Learning about the industry, the jargon, the tricks and what not. In the midst of all this, Excel is my BFF. Never knew I would ever say this, but I am learning SHORTCUTS! Gosh they are important.

4) I turned 25. Can't help but ask myself: "Am I doing everything a 25-year-old should be doing?" Still not sure about the answer

5) Moved to the cutest little apartment in Brooklyn Heights. Have now become an expert in finding space where no space exists & Ikea is my foreign company of choice. Them Scandinavians know their furniture ;)

6) Have purchased a new laptop, which is currently aiding me in writing this blog. After 4 years of a serious relationship with Toshiba, we had to finally part ways.

7) Have found new ways of entertaining myself and Ken. Going clubbing in NY is too expensive, instead, we spend our times Netflixing, Karaokeing, and throwing impromptu parties at our small but stylish BK apartment.

8) I have become the rightful owner of a Kindle! My adorable sister, who loves me like no other does in the world ( pause for dramatic effect) bought me a Kindle for my 25th birthday. It has now become more important to me than my iPhone, and much more important than always being surrounded by tropical weather ( I had to give the last one up after I moved to NY)

9) I had to put away my stilettos, and instead, replace them with medium-sized, subway-friendly heels. The HORROR!! How can a 5'1'' girl like myself ever survive with those heels (they are a disgrace to the world of shoes). However, I had to put aside my shame, and for the sake of arriving at work on time and in one piece, wear medium-size heels instead. I feel like a midget of course, but New York requires sacrifices, so reluctantly I made one.

10) I parted ways with the cutest car I will ever in the world of evers own in my life. Honda Civic (Del Sol). Ken must know how much I really love him now that I sold my car to a lawyer's wife. She is now probably basking in the sunny California weather with the love of my life, my Del Sol. She does send me weekly updates though, and my car does not seem to miss me as much as I miss her! Such if life, it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all....

11) Tobler and I are now in a long-distance relationship. My sister's dog, who for all intents and purposes acknowledges me as his rightful owner, lives in California, while I live in New York. We G-chat each night of course, but long-distance relationships are hard. I will be visiting him in March soon which makes the distance bearable.

12) Persuading Ken to get me a puppy or kitten has proven fruitless. He thinks our apartment in BK is too small, and he doesn't think I will take proper care of them. He is completely wrong of course, but he may be jealous of the fact that I find kittens and puppies more adorable than human beings (can't blame him for not wanting to share my love)

13) Finished all the unseen episodes of Scrubs and I find the new season completely a waste of time, energy and TV-space. I could go on and on about this forever but I have made a new resolution for 2010: Only 1 1/2 hours of TV per day. Hopefully I can take it down to 1 hour....small baby steps are the safest though

14) Making plans for my Summer Wedding in August. Hopefully I will not turn into a bridezilla although I have all the traits of one. Fingers crossed and pray for me ;)

15) Over and out on my end. Have a fantastic 2010 everyone, and may God Bless You!

When sadness sweeps over...

Coming from a third world, or to be politically correct, a 'developing country' definitely has its benefits. The biggest one : being oblivious to 'mental problems'. I was thinking about this topic for a while, and I have no idea, how to be as politically correct as possible on this critical matter. So please forgive me if I offend someone with this...and keep in mind...if you feel like you need to slap me or punch me in the face, let's all agree to disagree.

As you are probably aware from my previous blogs, I am Albanian ( I will leave out the "and proud of it" part because you have probably guessed as much by now)

In Albania, land of the former-communists, recent democrats, great minds, and loving people, we are not that familiar with bipolarity, psycho-somatic disorders, attention-deficit disorder you name it...we call all these illnesses by one name, and for propriety's sake, I am not going to name that name. I only found out about all of these stresses on a human's mind when I arrived in the United States and was confronted with it. I still remember the day when I was sitting in the cafeteria and one of my friends very openly admitted to me that she was bipolar. Being ignorant of the word and its meanings at the time, I had to run to my best source of information : my sister (she has now been replaced by Wikipedia).
I was informed about bipolarity and its effects on the human mind. I was soon to discover everything else that followed or preceded it. Scientists in the United States had come up with all these fancy names for these problems. What intrigued and saddened me at the same time were not the names of the diseases, but the medications associated with them.
Don't get me wrong, I am not advocating that pills don't work or that they should not be taken when diagnosed with certain conditions, all I am saying is let's not pop depression pills every time there is nothing good on T.V.

Let me explain further: Never before in Albania had I referred to myself as "depressed". After coming to the United States, I would call myself depressed every chance I got. My friends stood me up in the theater- I was depressed; the printer did not work - I was depressed; I got a B+ in Poli Sci - I was depressed.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't really think I was depressed, its just that the word became such a common word in my day to day vocabulary.

That's when I realized how happy we are in Albania!!!!! Truly, we are. We are potentially one of the poorest countries of Eastern Europe, highest corruption index (second only to Haiti), greatest brain-drain of all emerging countries, and yet, we are happy! We have a ton of things to worry about, sure we do.
God know's if there's anyone that should be depressed, its us, but somehow, we have found a way to dodge depression and melancholy.

I don't think pill-popping is the best way to go about pessimism/depression/what have you. Instead, take a look around, make a list of all the miracles in your life, switch on the daily news for some perspective, and give praise to God for all the marvelous things He has graciously given you.

Another thing that helps me when I am down and 'depressed' is inherited from my padre- the Greek. Let me give you a very mind-boggling statistic which I just made up: Greeks spends 2 Millions Euro per night on plate-smashing! Well, don't quote me on the number, but seriously one of the most important parts of going to a Greek nightclub has to do with the following:
1) Wearing a skimpy skirt/dress which allows you to dance on top of the table
2) Ordering 300 USD worth of ouzo
4) Asking for 50 plates (the more the better)
5) Getting on the dance floor or on top of the table (based on your preference)
6) Smashing every single plate as hard as you can on the floor!!!!!

Let me get back to my point above.....plate-smashing is very cathartic in its nature. If you don't believe, please, go to your kitchen, choose a plate your mom can live without, go to the second floor of your appt and smash the HECK out of that plate.
If you don't feel better instantaneously you can send me a hate email at blerinadhimo@gmail.com

I am hoping I made my point. Pills don't work.
So please, next time you feel sad and down, put on CNN, go through your family album, and if all that hasn't worked , head straight for the kitchen. No, not the knives drawer....the PLATES!

What a marvelous Saturday! The weather in California was pretty sunny, for the first time in some days....I know that sunny is supposed to be synonymous with California but it has not been the case for quite some days now. Don't get me started in the ridiculously low temperature- it snowed in Las Vegas for goodness' sake.

Anywho, before starting to tell you about my day in Napa today (Saturday), I need to express my feelings about driving your boss' Lexus on 280-S on peak traffic time, in deer-mating season at 85 miles\hour. Well, I did all of the above...

1) drove my boss' Lexus -yes he knows about it...no, I did not steal it...yes, it was a favor for him
In my defense, that darn thing is just as noiseless when you are driving 10mph as when you are driving 180 mph - please remember this , I will be bringing this up on my defense later

2) Driving on 280-S: As I was going on 101-North, I gracefully looked at the other side of the highway. I saw 6 miles worth of stuck in traffic cars...poor peeps they would be going crazy there for at least 2 hours - I decided I knew better (RIGHT!!!)

3) It was deer-mating season (Heck if I knew that) Are ordinary people like myself supposed to know when deers mate and when they take time off ?? I don't even know when humans mate Good Lord!

4) Well, I was saving this one for last given that I am not sure how to use this in my defense...I was kind of going 85 mph. Guilty as charged; however, before you decide to throw me to the wolves and write me your own ticket, let me just say: I was driving a LEXUS..darn expensive cars...that's when I decided that I prefer my noisy "Step forever on the gas-pedal " Honda Civic.

So, as I was graciously driving my boss' car, listening to the music and thinking "This better be counted in favor of me in the yearly report" I see Flashing , flashing , lights , lights behind me. Not the ones Kanye sings about, the ones 50-Cent sings about...mind you, if you don't know the difference, please stop reading now and we call it even.

For the ones who are still reading (that includes my mom) Mr. Officer pulls up behind me. I roll down the window Albanian style, I put a gracious smile on, and I hope that he will be charmed. I should have taken a better look at the mirror though, I should say, Friday was not my best day ever...I woke up at 7AM for a "Bright and shiny" morning meeting. I might or might not have taken a shower (considering that my mom is reading this , let's just all agree that I did - I will pay you later) So, in all this havoc, I still put a smile on and continue rolling down the window.
The following conversation takes place:

25-year old Mr. Officer (hereafter referred to simply as Mr.Officer) : Miss, did you have the music turned up really loudly?

Smily Blerina: Yes Sir, I am sorry

Mr. Officer: I have been following you for the past 10 minutes you know, did you not hear me?

Smily & Ready to Pee my Pants Blerina: No Sir, I did not. I am sorry.

Mr. Officer: Do you have any idea just how fast you were going???

Blerina: No Officer, how much?

Mr. Officer: Hmmm, you were going over 85.

Blerina: Really, I am sssooooo sorry.

Mr. Officer: Please give me your license and registration please

Blerina: Well sir, I can give you my license but I don't know where the registration might be!

Mr. Officer: What????

Blerina: You see Sir, this is my Boss' car
Really quickly , sweetly and almost teary-eyed: PLEASE DON'T GET ME FIRED!!!!!

Smart-Ass Mr. Officer: Well he might fire you when he finds out how fast you were going!!
Why don't you check the glove-compartment for his registration

Blerina relieved after she finds it there: Here you go. I don't know what to say....

Mr. Officer: Well, I tell you what. I will write you for going 70 mph, dropping 15 miles here miss. Your boss might not get as upset after all.

"Not sure if I should be relieved" Blerina: Thank you sir , that is very kind of you.

Mr. Officer - after he comes back from checking to see if the car was reported stolen and driven by a cute Albanian girl:
Well, here you go. I know this might sound silly but you should be very careful. It is deer-mating season you know, they go crazy at this time. 65 mph can save your life in these cases.

Blerina: Thank you soo much Mr. Officer, I really appreciate it. I don't know what to say.

Mr. Officer: Be safe

Blerina: Always

Well, that was it. That whole conversation is not exaggerated one bit. What's more important, he continued to follow me for another 20 minutes to make sure I was not going to drive off and kill some "excited to find her mate" deer.

Ok, getting late...will tell you about my day in Napa manana.

Mia vita..

My over-achieving mother and father since a young age , believe it or not, wanted the best for me. That concept was really hard for me to understand in the beginning, and to this day, I still have difficulty with it. My mother's idea of "I want the best for you" was to alienate me from my friends every single summer starting at the age of 6. As a child, I was very anxious to grow up. Little did I know that with the coming of "Yay, now I can read" came my mother's ultimatum " You are now officially eligible to join my private English courses". I say ultimatum, and you are probably laughing at me knowing how not-so-tall my mother is, but I don't think she has ever silenced you with only the use of one eye, so yes, it is easy for you to speak.
In Saranda, my lovely hometown, my mother's expensive-at-the-time English courses were quite elite for the population, yet, quite worth it, considering: her expertise in the language, her soft voice, and her very pretty deep blue eyes. Oh sorry, I might have forgotten to mention the 11,345 English language books and Encyclopedias that were always present at the office - it might have had something to do with her popularity too.
Given all the information, you can only imagine my dread when she mentioned that starting now, the now being 6 years old and able to read and write, I had to join my mother's English language courses. So, poor me, together with 10 other entry-level students of English joined Dolores' one of many torturous courses. I say torturous because each day of the entry-level course involved spelling 100 times each new word we learned. Mind you...in an entry level course Everything constitutes a new word. I gladly (at times) put up with this torture knowing that the summer would come, and the Ionian sea would welcome me in its bosom for a luxurious amazing period of three whole months. Little did I know (yet again) that summers for me, after the age of 6, would never be the same again. No more basking in the sun. No more running around with my friends rescuing lonely kittens and puppy's and bringing them home to adopt them. No more playing "housewives" in old dilapidated Saranda buildings. Instead I had to sit at home and read English books, highlight all the words I did not know and memorize 2 pages each day. Later on, when my mother would get back from work, I had to recite to her the 2 pages I had memorized and show her my dictionary of unknown words. I still remember one poem she made me memorize: "An elephant goes like this and that, he's awfully tall and awfully fat, he has no fingers has no tows, but oh my goodness what a nose!!!"...yes, elephant was one of the words I did not know so here we go...100 times!

I guess I have nothing to complain about now, considering that when I came to the United States for college, I did not have to sit in the cafeteria with the rest of the Albanians that did not speak English. Now that I think about it, that would have been very challenging indeed considering that I was the only Albanian at Menlo.

If only English were the only torture my parents put me through...no no no, three languages by the age of 6 are never enough..oh, is the math not adding up for some of you? I might have forgotten to mention that my father is Greek , and my grandmother's knowledge of the Albanian language at the time evolved around a couple of curse words she would yell at us once in a while. Naturally, I together with my other siblings (Jonika and Renato- who you will have the pleasue of knowing later on in this blogg once they annoy me enough to want to write about it) had the pleasure of speaking to our grandparents in Greek. So it was: Albanian at school, Greek with the grandparents and English with mom and dad.
As I mentioned before, it turns out that 3 languages were not enough for my parents. At the amazing age of 12 (when I was entering the glorious years of temper tantrums and "What is wrong with wearing makup?") I decided to enroll in Italian language courses.
Oh yes, very amazing years indeed, not sure how I kept up with everything. English here, Italian there, Greek at home, Albanian at school and PIANO lessons of all holy things. I am going to skip right past the political unrest in Albanian and being in fear of getting killed-or something much worse altogether-on our way to Tirana because my sister has been working on a novel around those matters for the past 3 years now; I don't want to steal her glory...she did mention that it's not autobiographical though so maybe the heroine does get not survive after all, we will have to buy the book to find out I guess.
Ok back to my piano lessons. In the midst of struggling to pay for rent and putting food on the table, my aristocratic mother (the aristocratic part might be covered in my mother's book this time, so I am skipping right past it again) decides to buy me a present for my birthday. I was not really expecting a birthday considering our dire economic situation, much less was I expecting a piano! I guess I should have been prepared for the grandiosity of presents that particular year given that my sister's high-school graduation present was " We are sending you to another continent to go to college, so now stop crying and pack your bags." Well, maybe those exact words were not spoken, but you get my point.
So here it was, a huge, awesome, brown, one of a kind, church organo- we all refered to it as a piano though- so for the intents and purposes of this blogg it was a piano. I was so in love with it, I couldn't stop staring afraid that it would vanish in the morning. I did have quite a lot of competition though; my mom was sitting right next to me on the chair staring at the exact same spot. Next morning she tells me to arrange my time in a week so that I had 5 hours a day for homework, two hours a day for foreign language courses, and 3 hours per week for piano lessons.
Very excited about becoming a grand maestro or maestra (to be gramatically correct) I agreed. I finished my homework the next day and I headed to my piano teacher's house. I knock on the door. It was opened by this cute, shiny, perfect-smile perfect-hair, perfect-everything 20-year old guy, he tells me to "please come in"....
Go in I did, with a dumbfounded expression of course, and praying to God that this Greek god (pun intended) might be my piano teacher. Providence had other things in store for me unfortunately and the Greek god was shortly after substituted by my real piano teacher- his mother. Before his mother came in her studio however, I did take a last glance at him and I saw that he was having a party at the other room. Turns out, it was his good-bye party as in less than two weeks he would be on his way to Germany to study something I could not pronounce. German was not one of the four language I spoke you see. I continued going to my piano lessons faithfully each week, and as my piano expertise continued so did my adolescent tantrums.
Between all the havoc that my piano teacher's son's memories created, I forgot to mention that my sister was safely and soundly shipped to the United States. Alabama of all states, but again, I will leave that part of her life to be recounted by her..don't want to step on any writer's toes here; she does have a violent streak in her and I don't want to wake up the Nemesis in her.

Anywho, back to crazy adolescent years. I might have forgotten to mention the fact that my mother's sense of propriety exceeded all limits. She insisted that I went to school each day with my hair combed in two side-braids. Evidently (it was only evident to my mother) ,it expressed to my teachers just how humble and modest I really was. Well, the teachers might have gotten that impression, heck if I ever found out! I was too concentrated on my friends' song every time I walked in class:

" They're creepy and they're kooky,
Mysterious and spooky,
They're all together ooky,
The Addams Family"

You see, to them I represented Wednesday from the Addams Family...

New to Blogging

So here it is. My first blog. I am excited...not much to write at this point. Oh wait, scratch that. I actually do have something to share. My new addiction with the Twilight series. I never thought that an MBA-Finance-major-twenty-something-year-old like myself would be so engrossed by these kinds of books. But than again, Harry Potter proved me wrong, so I guess I will have to reevaluate my whole perspective on what I like reading and what I don't.
For all the skeptics out there...it is such an awesome book- well books really (there are four of them). I was not sure how I felt about the fact that I, together with all the teens of the world were on the same wavelength as far as book-choices are concerned, but like I said, Harry Potter taught me some humility in the subject.
So here's the real question, are these kinds of books becoming a trend now? Am I meant to share my book preferences with the rest of the teens and preteens of the world for the rest of my life? Or rather...is there a literary revolution taking place?
Not sure what the answer is at this point, it might just good literature ! In which case, that makes me a good chooser ;) or a crowd-follower. I am fine either way.