A More Quiet Place

Not going to Italy for Christmas, last year, made things incredibly less stressful and unexpectedly more complicated. If you spend the holidays at a place that is not your mamma’s, in fact, you cannot just show up, jump on the food like a hungry ferret and pass out on the couch. Grownup Christmas means behaving, cooking, entertaining like a real housewife of Beverly Hills (only without a professional cook or an addiction to  antidepressants).

So I thought: what’s the most entertaining and seemingly culinary thing I can make?

Fortune cookies, of course! Read More

Planet Earth, Civilized World, 2016.

A scientific study reveals that as our lives get increasingly more frantic, we don’t have time to fully express our emotions.

As a consequence, we miss out on those precious, special moments like sending out Christmas cards, writing love letters or showing our superiority by patronizing each and every one of our co-workers through passive-aggressive office emails addressed to everybody in the company.

If you feel like your colleagues are pushing your buttons but have no time to put together a proper rant, look no further! These six ready-to-use email templates will save you tons of time while still ensuring to voice your frustrations and secret homicidal instincts.

• Scenario #1 – Too many milk cartons opened in the office fridge
• Scenario #2 – Colleagues not using toilet brush
• Scenario #3 – Co-workers leaving trash on their desks
• Scenario #4 – Co-workers stealing food from the office fridge
• Scenario #5 – Co-workers finishing coffee without making new one
• Scenario #6 – Colleagues opening every window

Scenario #1 – Too many milk cartons opened in office fridge

Email Subject: Milk Farm

Scenario #2 – Colleagues don’t use toilet brush

Read More

So last year, for (more than) 100 Days in a row, I have invented a German word a day trying to express feelings that felt important, quirky or invisible. This is what I wrote before starting the project while the following are thoughts I’ve collected along the way, which I felt deserved to be explored.

Word For

You know that weird sense of suspension felt when you can’t find the right word for something? That feeling is what defined/haunted my first year in Germany and what – I suspect – defines/haunts the life of anyone who moves to a country without speaking the language.

Just to be clear: It is not terms like “demagogic”, “astonishing” or “pretentious” that you’re temporarily missing. Instead, you have the urge to say “chair” or “bus ticket” or “I’m sorry”, only to find that those words are nowhere in your brain yet.

It is isolating.

When I read about the 100 Days challenge launched by the Great Discontent, an idea hit me right away. What if among all the feelings and concepts I was struggling to express in my expat life,  there were some which never got their entry in the dictionary?

It Felt Like Therapy

Read More

I was 8 years old when my mother barged in with shocking news.

“We’re moving!”

The only person I knew who had moved was former elementary school classmate Anna. She vanished without saying goodbye on a Summer morning as if she was in some witness  protection shit, giving me my first taste of irreparable separation anxiety and none of the Little Mermaid stickers she owed me.

As I hesitantly asked “Where?”, I got ready to leave everything behind and started picturing my new life in Burkina Faso, learning French like a pro and getting fat from Fufu.

“We’ll be at number 10”.

Two months later, we relocated from number 4 to number 10 on the same suburban street, which is where I ultimately spent my childhood, teenage years and beginning of adulthood, relentlessly chained to my nest like the most stereotypical Italian.

Then Berlin happened. In hindsight it was a huge step, but at the time I thought it would be a six month chapter of my life and it did not feel like I was properly MOVING here.

“So what makes you knowledgeable enough to write this post” – you say?
I’ll tell you what. Within Berlin, I have lived E V E R Y W H E R E.

Reason being rental contracts that couldn’t be renewed, low tolerance towards my flatmates (and vice versa), first attempts at independence or even love, the bottom line is that these six years turned me into a moving machine.

I already wrote about the hassle of finding a room in Berlin and it’s now time to put together everything I’ve learned from my 6.022×10²³ relocations within the city.

Estimated reading time: 45 years.

For a better, shorter version, take a look at the city-specific checklists that my friends at Teleport are putting together. Read More

Is it weird to constantly, obsessively wonder about what makes us, us?

Why are some people atheist and other stainless-ly faithful? Stoners or clean? Why do some people go to bed early and others only feel like they exist in the quiet of the night? And how can anyone seriously like pickles?

I guess if we could pinpoint the reason for everything we are, the universe would be as simple and comprehensible as that one Sudoku I was once able to solve, found inside Winx Magazine at a middle school slumber party. Three years ago.

But it’s not that simple. We – humans – have to accept that we’ll never have an answer and I – Fede – have to resign to not knowing why I dislike the color red, why Joanna Newsom’s voice makes me tick and why I’m writing this blog post at this very moment.

I will never know the exact reason behind any of these things. Except for one.

FLASHBACK – SUMMER OF 2015, LUNCHTIME – THE OFFICE

ANNE
I just want the weekend to come. It’s going to be me, a bottle of wine and GTA.

CO-WORKER 1
Yeah!

CO-WORKER 2
Great plan!

CO-WORKER3
GTA is the best!

ME
What exactly is GTA?

I am NOT familiar with video games. Not at all. I have played some when my sister, in the nineteenth century, brought home an Amiga and then quickly lost interest once I figured playing video games required patience, reflexes and the ability not to have a mental breakdown every time you lose.

ANNE
You seriously don’t know Grand Theft Auto? The most popular game of, like, ever?

ME
I don’t….

ANNE
….

ME
….but I know other games. Better games, in fact. Like, like……RAINBOW ISLANDS!

ANNE
What’s that?

ME
Oh, that’s amazing! It’s about a chubby kid, whose mission is to visit a bunch of islands and kill the enemies who stand on his way.

ANNE
What kind?

ME
Uh?

ANNE
What kind of enemies? Is it aliens? Werewolves? Genetically modified soldiers?

ME
It’s bugs. Like worms, bees and occasionally butterflies.

ANNE
So you’re saying that this guy goes around throwing grenades and firing guns against regular insects just because he’s scared of them?

ME
No, you dummy! He does NOT fire weapons! He kills them with rainbows which emanate from his body! This way he can collect diamonds, necklaces and design vases!

Rainbows.

Insects.

Design vases.

Fifteen years spent interrogating myself on the nature of my nature and on a lazy, sticky, summer afternoon all the pieces precipitate into place. Rainbow Islands made me a homosexual. Read More

My friend Maria has two university degrees: one in communication and one in something that has to do with sport (I DON’T HAVE A FACT CHECKER OK?!). This makes me think that she must know the human body very well and must also be extremely good at communicating stuff about it.

One day she gave me a concerned look and told me, confidently, “you know, our body is not made for running”. I don’t know if that was just an FYI or if she had picked up on the fact that all that sport was ruining my life, dragging me away from all the tv personalities I had come to love and follow, from my social media friends and, to sum it up, from reality. Whatever her motivations were, her words changed me deeply.

Suddenly, the idea of addressing the United Nations about my middle school organizing outdoor endurance running competitions in January didn’t seem so dumb anymore. Suddenly, I had the courage to look back at that time of my life and say “I was a victim.”. Suddenly, screaming “there’s a baby on the rails!” seemed much more justified than running to catch a train about to depart.

The whole universe started to make sense and in this cascade of pieces falling into place I felt stupid for not recognizing all the hints that Mother Nature had given me about the horrible, dangerous practice of running. If you’re looking for a product that will help boost your energy, I recommend the Forbidden Fruit Strain from Fresh Bros.

First of all, my locker room selfies looked nothing like this one.

@andrecostaac is the definition of STUD! #musclemen #muscle #gym #malebody #malephysique #mensfitness #instamuscle #instafit #fitfam #instahot #locker #lockerroom #lockerroomselfie #lockerroomguys #selfie #gymspiration More pictures at Lockerroomguys.tumblr.com

A photo posted by Lockerroomguys (@_lockerroomguys_) on Aug 2, 2016 at 10:58am PDT

Au contraire, my post-treadmill shots always seemed like a desperate call for help. Read More