(no subject)
I've been watching The Godfather, slowly. It feels weird to think that I may have been one of those women if I had been born a generation or two before my time. It's also disturbing to consider what some Italian Americans on Staten Island have turned into.
Throughout the summer, there were times when I felt like I was an outsider firstly because I am an American, and secondly because I am a New Yorker. Some people thought that I was rude or overwhelming, but most people loved my accent and would ask me to repeat words,laughing about how I sounded straight out of a movie. People would ask me to hail a cab with them, and to be the one to negotiate the price (most places in eastern Europe try to swindle tourists). I was known as tough, smart, and useful to be around...all characteristics which may not necessarily be true 100% of the time, but this outfit was thrown upon me and I chose to wear it. People have expectations. People assume that someone from a different place has a certain personality and oftentimes this stereotype is true. But more often, it is reinforced by expectation.
In my case, I did truly feel different. Not in a bad way, but just in a different way.
I was asked to repeat myself constantly when ordering drinks at a bar. People would talk about soccer and rugby, and I would have nothing to say. People were, for lack of better words, straight-up PUSSIES at times, wandering around aimlessly with not enough sense to get around and not enough balls to go up to a person and ask for help.
When I was Munich, my friend and I did a guided tour of Dachau concentration camp. There were about 5 boys on the same tour and the second I heard them speak, I felt like I was home. They were Italian Americans from Queens. My friend laughed because they sounded exactly like I did, and I was happy because they sounded exactly like my brothers and their friends and the people who I grew up with in Brooklyn. And, what truly amazes me, is that I had traveled so far AWAY from home only to feel the strongest connection with people from my home. Sometimes I wonder if there will ever be that one place and that one group of people where I will feel best suited to be myself and be understood, and sometimes I wonder if I will always be led back to the place where I started.
This was NOT the original purpose of my post, but it seems I have diverged.
I have been thinking about romance lately. I have been remembering certain people who I've dated or hooked up with, and even some people who I was only friends with. I have been remembering all those hopeful moments when I thought maybe I had found someone worth holding on to, and all the kisses that I felt were more than physical attraction. I have been remembering the boys that I met this summer, briefly, and how a few of them wanted to spend more time with me but it wasn't possible because I was leaving the country the next day or something tragically cliche like that. If only fate would have it a different way. If only the United States had never been settled, or my family didn't move here, I could be a girl in Poland or Italy who is not an outsider just visiting.
Again, diverging.
I hate wanting someone who I shouldn't want. I hate being wanted by someone who I do not want, not now, not ever. Nothing ever seems to fit perfectly together in my life, even briefly, when it comes to this sort of thing and I am nostalgic for a time when I felt the hope that SOMETHING would happen, something wonderful, just to me. I am nostalgic for the first time that I met him and for the first time we laughed and I looked at him, and saw something that I knew could have been good.
Throughout the summer, there were times when I felt like I was an outsider firstly because I am an American, and secondly because I am a New Yorker. Some people thought that I was rude or overwhelming, but most people loved my accent and would ask me to repeat words,laughing about how I sounded straight out of a movie. People would ask me to hail a cab with them, and to be the one to negotiate the price (most places in eastern Europe try to swindle tourists). I was known as tough, smart, and useful to be around...all characteristics which may not necessarily be true 100% of the time, but this outfit was thrown upon me and I chose to wear it. People have expectations. People assume that someone from a different place has a certain personality and oftentimes this stereotype is true. But more often, it is reinforced by expectation.
In my case, I did truly feel different. Not in a bad way, but just in a different way.
I was asked to repeat myself constantly when ordering drinks at a bar. People would talk about soccer and rugby, and I would have nothing to say. People were, for lack of better words, straight-up PUSSIES at times, wandering around aimlessly with not enough sense to get around and not enough balls to go up to a person and ask for help.
When I was Munich, my friend and I did a guided tour of Dachau concentration camp. There were about 5 boys on the same tour and the second I heard them speak, I felt like I was home. They were Italian Americans from Queens. My friend laughed because they sounded exactly like I did, and I was happy because they sounded exactly like my brothers and their friends and the people who I grew up with in Brooklyn. And, what truly amazes me, is that I had traveled so far AWAY from home only to feel the strongest connection with people from my home. Sometimes I wonder if there will ever be that one place and that one group of people where I will feel best suited to be myself and be understood, and sometimes I wonder if I will always be led back to the place where I started.
This was NOT the original purpose of my post, but it seems I have diverged.
I have been thinking about romance lately. I have been remembering certain people who I've dated or hooked up with, and even some people who I was only friends with. I have been remembering all those hopeful moments when I thought maybe I had found someone worth holding on to, and all the kisses that I felt were more than physical attraction. I have been remembering the boys that I met this summer, briefly, and how a few of them wanted to spend more time with me but it wasn't possible because I was leaving the country the next day or something tragically cliche like that. If only fate would have it a different way. If only the United States had never been settled, or my family didn't move here, I could be a girl in Poland or Italy who is not an outsider just visiting.
Again, diverging.
I hate wanting someone who I shouldn't want. I hate being wanted by someone who I do not want, not now, not ever. Nothing ever seems to fit perfectly together in my life, even briefly, when it comes to this sort of thing and I am nostalgic for a time when I felt the hope that SOMETHING would happen, something wonderful, just to me. I am nostalgic for the first time that I met him and for the first time we laughed and I looked at him, and saw something that I knew could have been good.