Sep 28, 2007

{written in spring}

When I was a little kid, unlike other girls of my age, I wanted to become a detective or an astronaut. Or maybe both, since being an astronaut involved exploring the outer space and obviously discovering other ET civilizations, which I could have closely observe and investigate with my detective skills.

Later on, I moved to wishing to become a doctor. At first it was sheer passion for science, which I had started studying at school, but I soon found myself reading with delight the anatomy articles in the very fashionable cultural magazine at the time -The Tree of The World. After seeeeveral years, in the 12th grade, it had occurred to me again that I was meant to be a doctor, as I discovered the thrill and magic of chromosome and DNA mixtures: genetics. My daydream got strongly anchored in the real world, when one of my best friend's mother passed away, and I swore to myself that I will bring my contribution to the discovery of the cancer cure.

Soon after starting high school I wanted to become a journalist. Preferably an investigation one -recurrent theme. The idea of asking tricky questions also appealed to me, so being an interviewer was something I was looking forward to.

Then came the IT period. Web design, soft design, artificial intelligence, NASA (old ideas die hard). This would had probably developed into a little something nice, if a had had someone to teach me well and also motivate me.

In the 10th grade it started to get serious. Tones of 'what do you want to do in life' questions started to come from the psychology teacher. If someone had asked me that just a few days before I met this .....this....teacher, I would have possibly replied that I was interested in psychology, since I love working with people. But this ..this...odsoeronerhnaomhe....teacher vanished any trace of intention of mine to learn psychology, at least as it was taught at school.

Shortly after, it seemed to me that I was revealed my purpose in life. I was due to become a diplomat. Or a tourism agency representative. I was about to travel a lot, to experience other cultures, to be a polyglot always suntanned , but mostly to be able to tell all my high class ex colleagues that I also have been to Greece, Vienna and Disneyland. Yeah, you heard me right Dis-ney-land! It was all planned with a curly , paprika-loving fiend of mine : we were about to start as flight attendants , part time-obviously while being in university. We would set out a tourism agency and we would definitely go for 'The Amasing Race', leaving our formally dressed (elegant suit, black coat and tie!!! c'mon it's got to be a tie, have you seen any businessman without a tie?!) boyfriends behind for a while.

To many details. I needed a break. An advertising break. It turned out to be more than a pause. I had started battling my eyelashes to this industry long before the craze for it appeared. I didn't know much; in fact I knew nothing about it. There were my instinct and the so called creativity that people around me told me I had. And for the first time , I admitted it.

But why to settle on one thing when life can be far more exciting?! So , let's enroll in the Romanian Secret Services. C'mon, it's gonna be fun, I'm gonna be undercover, I'm gonna study reverse psychology, IT, physics, diplomacy, languages, persuasion and dissimulation, crime investigation, sports. All I ever wanted before rolled into one. Perfect. I'm gonna be that great agent that works undercover in the field, cold blooded, but still people oriented, who can drag someone into doing something by sweet talk , yet can also dismantle a bomb.

To put it in a nutshell, I currently study finances. Why?!

{current edit: switching to ( a more) realistic (and possibly trivial) mode}

In a couple of years I'd like to find myself in the glass elevator of a multinational corporation, heading to an office with a large view upon the city, while caring a light, yet data-presentation-report-full laptop, to have lunch and small talk in the non-smoking area of the cafeteria, to meet deadlines with the ballpoint pen kept in the metallic "Je sais compter jusqu'a toi: un, deux, toi" pencil box, to attend team buildings in the mountains and late nights in the pub celebrating a success, to pull silly faces behind important clients during meetings,but to shake hands for deal closure in the end, to drive home in the evening jacketless , singing along with the radio.