MY BEST FRIEND IS A PUBLISHED AUTHOR

Meet my best friend, Alex Goica. I have known her for seven years and we have been friends since that time. Our timeline of friends is a long one and it's quite an interesting one. Long story short, we started out as pen pals, writing each other e-mails periodically (back when writing e-mail was the form of communication on the Internet), spreading out over a period of two years. Then, when we discovered the world of Facebook, that's when we were able to keep up with each other. We could comment on each other's photos, write messages to each other, and check what the other person was doing. It was a lovely way of communication (and one of the reasons why I like Facebook, because it brought me and her together much closer than e-mail could). Then, she came to visit me in Canada in the summer of 2011 where we met for the first time. I remember meeting her at the airport in Toronto nervous because I would finally meet the friend that I've been writing to for three years. Then, I visited her in Romania every summer the past two years, while also making a pit spot in Spain when she studied near Madrid this past winter. 

Now she's a published author.

Wait, what?

A young college graduate has published a novel, her very own. What's even more spectacular about this accomplishment is our mutual love for writing, reading, and stories. Talking about our favourite novels and books and bringing her beloved novels whenever I would visit her is something that occupied a great deal of our time. Her talking about wanting to write and share her love for writing has always been a goal for Alex. So when she told her that book, Jurnalul Soldatului Ranit (The Wounded Soldier's Journal in English), I was beyond excited. Happiness, being proud, elation, and utter joy were a few of the emotions that overwhelmed when my best friend told her that she is now a published author. Alex has always been a ferocious chaser after her dreams (studying in Spain, publishing her book, to name a few), so she not only encourages me to chase after my dreams, but actually do them. Having the utter privilege to interview her on behalf of her novel, her words speaks sheer wisdom and promise of a young author in the big, wide world of writing.

1. What inspired you to write your book and where did you draw the inspiration? 
I have always loved to write. No matter what happened in my life, I put everything on paper. I always dreamed to have my own book, my own novel. I admired other writers and only wished to become one of them. To go on with finishing my book inspired me the change of surroundings: travelling, change of people and culture. This is what always inspires me. With the help of my imagination, I managed to take notes, which were later transformed in pages.

2. Why did you decide to write about your book about a wounded soldier? 

A high school teacher from Oravita (a person that has always read my blog and texts throughout the years) gave me the idea. He said that my style of writing would go perfectly with a war story. Since history and me are not best friends, at first I said it's impossible to write something about any kind of war. Imagination knocked on my door and proved me wrong. The story is 100% fiction, although I was inspired from some true stories too (i.e. the stories of my 93-year old great-grandfather who fought in WWII; the stories of my mother and her mentally ill patients at her work). I  then combined them along with the fiction present in the novel. Time and space are not precise, simply because I wanted to leave them open. The war and "the wound" are nothing but a metaphorical meaning of our life.

3. What does writing mean for you and how does writing affect you? 

Every time I wrote a sentence or a page, I felt better. For me, writing is the best therapy in the world. I could not imagine myself without writing. The best gift that someone could offer me is a book, or a journal...or better: an idea for a new book! Writing helps me get through both happy and sad moments in my life. It makes me stronger!

4. When did you fall in love with writing? Was it a book or story? 

I first fell in love with writing in high school. Although I was used to writing before, in high school I "discovered" my inner author. From that day, we're best friends.

5. If you could give a word of advice to fellow writers, what would it be?

It's hard to be a writer nowadays. We live in the fear that we won't be acknowledged by the society. I think that's a risk any writer should take no matter what. Never stop writing! It doesn't take a thousand of readers to make you feel better, you will feel awesome after the first reader that shares with you his/her impressions. Good luck!

Psychologists say that if you wish to be a visionary, sound yourself with people who have vision. Their thinking, their comportment, and their ideas will rub off you, thereby inspiring you to have vision. Alex Goica has proved to not only be a visionary, but a dreamer. I've always bragged and told my friends about her, my best friend in Europe. Now, she is indeed someone I am proud of, someone I can't wait to tell what she has accomplished. Alex, never stop dreaming. You inspire people, myself included. 

Have I mentioned that she's my best friend?

AUTUMNAL SENTIMENTS

There's no denying the fact that autumn has quickly become a beloved season for me. Growing up in Canada, autumn was virtually nonexistent. Fall weather would last around two weeks and then it would immediately snow, transitioning fall too soon into winter. Being in Virginia, however, has given me a new appreciation for autumn. The leaves slowly changing color from green to burnt orange to smokey yellow, crinkling and covering the sidewalk with hues of orange, yellow, and red. The temperature plummeting to sweater weather, knit pullovers, scarves, hats, boots, and jackets, compromising an array of colour. The beverages served hotter, the apple of my cheeks a cherry red, the rain producing a sleepy disposition, and an atmosphere perfect for cuddling with a blanket and reading an adventurous novel. I have grown to love autumn, in that it carries everything that happened over the summer in a new fashion; it seals everything or it simply lets it go. I also happen to adore fall that plums, maroons, mauves, army green, and deeper, richer colours come out of hiding. Summer consists more of bright colours, a leisure chicness, and a bolder palette. Autumn, however, is about a richer sophistication that comes out when the weather in September drops and days becomes shorter.

{ jacket: Zara; bag: Metter (from Otter); boots: Manor; jeans: Zara; top: Joe Fresh }

SUMMER MEMORIES

I cannot believe it's already the first day of autumn. I feel like this summer literally flew by. I blinked for a second and it was already gone. While I am sad that the warm summer weather is behind me, the feel of the sun kissing my skin will be recalled fondly, I am looking forward what the autumn season brings me. With that being said, I will fondly look back at my favourite summer memories.

I accomplished a lot of summer. This summer was certainly not one that I experienced idly. Bright colours, late nights, warm temperatures, many adventures. It's kind of crazy to see how much things can change from one season to the next! Especially how I decided to move oversees, and in a very short time span. It was a very full three months.

favourite moment // it's hard to recall a single moment, since there were so many beautiful ones. of all of them, I'd probably say that witnessing the Milky Way galaxy while going to camp retreat with my friends 70 minutes away. the stars were shining brilliantly and the galaxy was a wonder to behold.

favourite place // ciuperca, a restaurant on the top of the hill in Oradea. many fond memories were made there and it's a place I hold dear to my heart.

favourite outfit // pastel pink cropped pants, a printed tee, and sandals

favourite food // um, everything. but probably shaowarma or nachos with cheese

favourite drink // lemonade with mint

favourite ice cream // stracciatella

favourite song // a tie between "Stay with Me" by Sam Smith and "Say That You Love Me" by Jessie Ware

favourite memory // honestly, I cannot answer this question because too many memories are my favourite for different reasons. but one that sticks out to me is when my group of friends came over and made spaghetti and crepes. 

favourite tradition // eating an omelette before a road trip

favourite accomplishment // knowing that I can really express myself in a different language

favourite growth moment // knowing that God dreams alongside me, that He genuinely feels, understands, and gets me

favourite place visited // does istanbul from a distance count? then brasov, romania 

favourite experience // having a sense of belonging in a different country

favourite word/phrase // da taci, ba!

favourite thing ever period // falling in love

I WENT TO A WEDDING

I have a confession to make: I have never gone to a wedding before. Ever. In my entire life. I have always wondered what weddings are like, since films paints a rather romantic picture, whereas real wedding endorse a much more stressful environment that brides-to-be are willing to express. The thought of the bride walking down the aisle in a vision in white while her groom consciously attempts to conceal his utter wonder while gazing at the love of his life. Then the details of the ceremony: the center pieces, the music, the set up, the design. Pretty much everything. The bride's dress. Her makeup. What the groom is wearing. Her bouquet. All of these things were simply conjured in my mind based on what I'd see in movies and what others pinned on Pinterest. So when I would hear that people went to wedding, I envied them. I thought, how magical it must be. Since I romanticize everything and make a simple moment into this grand gesture worthy of being recorded, whether by word or photograph, I longed to see what the fuss what about with weddings. It clearly had to be something.

While I was living in Canada, there was no prospect for being invited to a wedding. With no relatives nearby, there wasn't a chance, and having no friends that are going to get married, that really wasn't going to happen. After I moved to Virginia and people were literally thrusting themselves to people in order to get married, I thought, hey, I might actually have the chance to see a wedding. (Hopefully, before I get married.) By going to a Christian university, there is a certain mindset surrounding dating, courtship, and matrimony. So, finally, I said to myself, it might actually happen to me. I got my first wedding invitation, but my heart broke when I couldn't go. So many complications essentially told me that I couldn't manage to go. Sadly, I had to decline and incessantly stalk her pictures online. Then another one of my good friends finally setting the date, I figured this might be a possible venture, but regrettably, it appears that I may have to pass this one up due to the distance, since it would be so far away.

Then I moved to Romania. I had heard stories of my friends telling me of the wedding they went to this past weekend, that it was so this and much that, and discussed what happened. The party lasted until 6 in the morning, a group of older gentlemen began arguing after drinking too much alcohol, and there was a little cat fight between two girls. When I would ask people how many weddings they attended, it varied from 2-3 per summer, to 4-5 per year. Per year! They would tell me all about the crazy things that goes on in Romanian weddings and I sincerely hoped that I would be able to go to one some time.

I was then informed by my father that a relative of mine (apparently, I have, like, a million and one relatives) is getting married and we are invited to her wedding. I AM GOING TO A WEDDING!!! I finally get to see what it is all about. Not really informed regarding Romanian traditions, I just figured that it would be like weddings I saw in America and Canada.Wrong. There is so much more involved. The religious ceremony, the civil ceremony, the capturing of the bride after the religious ceremony, the reception, and then the party. The days leading up to the wedding, I repeatedly shared my excitement with everyone around me. By the time Saturday rolled around, I was ready for business.

I began layering on my makeup, doing my hair, ironing my dress, priming every detail since all eyes would be on us since the relatives from Canada would be at the wedding. The entire process was very exciting, yet also a little daunting. Weddings in Canada and America have a more leisure tone to it; you don't necessarily dress to impress. You go there to enjoy the wedding. In Romania, how you dress is a statement. It says something about you, so image is very important and highly revelled. As a result, there was a lot of priming before we left.

{dress: calvin klein; heels: tahari; clutch: forever 21; earrings: h&m }

Indeed, going to a wedding was a lot of commitment. First of all, there is the religious ceremony that usually lasts an hour and involves the family of the betrothed and the close friends. This can last up to an hour. Then it's the reception. And the party. My goodness, I don't think I really experienced a party until now. There was music constantly (live, might I add) and high volume and people talking and people going out to enjoy a breather from the loud music inside by smoking a cig. The room was overtly divided by who danced and who clearly did not. The food was presented and the beverages were served smoothly (which included alcohol). Hours rolled by and I was genuinely surprised that it was eleven at night and the night was still young. It was as if the party only now started happening. The music got louder, people finally started dancing, and the guests started feeling looser. When it was 3 in the morning, I was ready to call it a night. Traditional Romanian folk singer graced us with her enchanting vocals, while the regional music provided interesting sights and dancing. All in all, it was a pleasant experience, one that I am sure will not be my last.

A NEW CHAPTER

To anyone who meets me or spends a little bit of time talking with me, it will become immediately clear that I am irrevocably, undeniably, and utterly in love with Europe. The culture, the people, the style, the food, just everything. I'm constantly dreaming about visiting the continent with a refreshed amour for the culture, an empty stomach for the delicious food I'll gladly intake, and a clear suitcase for the new clothes. Perhaps the latter two is a glamourous exaggeration, but my admiration for the continent runs deep. But the longer I visited anywhere in Europe, the more I longer to live there. It simply wasn't enough to visit for any considerable amount of time; I wanted to be there. I considered study abroad programs many times just so I could be there (but sadly, not many psychology programs offer programs that are compatible with what I plan to do with my major). I simply felt that I connected with the European culture more than American culture. (Again, my own thoughts and observations for my personal experience.) So when my family moved to Europe in November of 2013, my first emotion was jealousy. I so longed to live there, and they get to live out my dream. So not fair. But that didn't stop my constant dreaming of one day living in Europe.

This summer, just like my previous summers, I spent in Romania, exploring other parts of the continent, and indulging in my love for Europe. I knew that even before leaving for Romania, it would be difficult to leave the beloved country and return to the States for school. Every time I visit Romania, I leave a bigger piece of my heart there, making it more and more difficult. I just didn't fit back at school anymore. I felt like foreign body. During my stay in Romania, I realized that I couldn't go back. Not out of a desire to not face what lied ahead, but rather, I physically could not leave. I thoughts of multiple  ways to prolong my trip, but the eventual result that I would eventually have to go. In all of this, I took into consideration that my family was very far away. 3000 km away plus a 7 hour time difference...it made things harder. Finally, I proposed, largely out of exasperation, that I could finish my last year of university online. That way, I could still finish school and be where I longed to be. Thus began a rapid and swift transition from becoming an international student studying on-campus to an online school. At first, it was very exciting--I get to live in Europe, I'll be exposed to more things than I was before, and I get to enjoy seeing my family every day. Then, a few weeks after I made my decision public, the emotions began to sink in. I wouldn't see my friends there anymore. What I dreamed my senior year to look like certainly won't look like that anymore. Will I walk for my graduation? Oh my goodness, I have to get all my stuff back. I am literally moving halfway across the globe. OMG. 

And so this is where I am currently. I am living in Europe. I am officially living my dream. However, my dream doesn't stop there. I plan on visiting every single place where I marked on my massive map of Europe that I hung up for the last 2 years. That being said, with the 3 months of summer and now, month of transition while getting adjusted and acclimated, it isn't as cracked up as I thought it would be. Moving was an extremely (although that is a grand understatement) and painfully stressful experience. And I had to do it by myself. I really wouldn't wish it upon anyone: to move halfway across the world in 10 days. Being the observant and judicial person that I am, I have noticed crucial pros and cons regarding this important and significant change in my life.

PROS:

1. I obviously live in Europe. I need no further elaboration. (Do you desire one (or five)? I get to expand my mind being surrounded with people that are different from me in comportment, thinking, and cultural norms. I do get to indulge my taste buds with the robust decisions of delicacies, pastries, and dishes. I constantly filter the street style wherever I go, so my wardrobe somehow expands. Meeting new people is strongly encouraged, especially in foreign countries, since it allows you to make new experiences and new connections. I get to live in Europe).

2. I am closer to visiting the places I've only dreamed with my eyes closed. Paris, Barcelona, Dubrovnik, London, Rome, Cinque Terre, Florence, Zakynthos...they are closer than they ever were before. Plus, a few hundred euros is easier to obtain than multiple thousand of dollars. So visiting them is slowly become obtainable.

3. My mind and worldview is constantly being challenged in a good and healthy way. When we get too comfortable in our culture, our worldview takes a back seat. When you encounter new people with a different way of seeing the world, it forces you to not only defend your mindset, but also compels you to analyze many things, prompting necessary change. It is such a liberating and diverse feeling. Talking to people who've had a particular upbringing usually comes in conflict with an upbringing from a different culture, thus prompting interesting conversation and perceptive observations.

4. I've made many meaningful connections with people here. While I do tend to romanticize things, I like to think that the people I've met in Romania were truly a godsend. Such a fascinating collection of people, with different ways of thinking, with different ways of acting, with different mindset...and yet, mixed together, we all manage to complement each other.

5. The relational education I received, especially in the last 2 years with being a leader on campus, has been absolutely vital. Only now do I realize the magnitude. What used to be second nature and came into contact every single day with multiple people is a rarity here. Having a different frame of mind allows me to see things differently, perhaps so differently, that it is culturally offensive. What was considered normal at school is a clash in culture. The differences in culture helps me develop, but it's also making me realize that what I received has a much larger scope. It has a bigger purpose that I originally thought, and I'm only beginning to see a few glimpses here and there.

CONS:

1. I miss speaking English so often. While I thoroughly enjoy expanding my Romanian and revelling in the fact that I can finally communicate in Romanian, I do miss English. It is my dominant language and sometimes, I don't know how to say something in Romanian, and I can only explain it in English. But then I have to translate and the translation isn't always the same. Sometimes, I do miss speaking in English and people understanding exactly what I'm saying, without the need of a translation. On the same note, sometimes, there are times when the English language is lacking and the only word that comes to mind is in Romanian. Constantly being between two languages is frustrating sometimes.

2. English book stores. I so miss this from Canada and America. The feeling of walking in a Barnes and Noble and knowing that every single book in the store in English was glorious. If I had known those feelings were numbered, perhaps I would have cherished them more. Most book stores do carry some English books, but it's not the same. I can't just go and pick up a book and start reading it in Romanian and French. My level of Romanian and French is not at the level as it is in English. Especially if it starts using elevated vocabulary, I have to use twice the amount of energy to understand something whereas I could read something and I would immediately comprehend it.

3. Things work differently here, so I have to get used to the fact that what I've known is not what it is anymore. Things worked a certain way in Canada and USA, but that's not how it necessarily works in Europe. There are no Wal-Marts, no Targets, no Costcos. You cannot go to one store and you'll find everything you need. You have to go to two or three different stores to find something. Some things are not easily accessible.

4. The clash in culture. It really can so aggravating sometimes. The way some things are done are not what I'm used to and just because that's how it's done there doesn't necessarily mean that it should be that way. The way older think about the newer generation, how we should act, what Christianity should look like...a myriad of thinking that is different. Let me iterate that this is not necessarily a bad thing. It's just when the country as a whole thinks in a certain way that is different than what you have grown up thinking, it can difficult to ask if it's just a cultural issue or a familial thing.

What I'm really trying to say in all of this, with too many words to count, is that I'm blogging again. If you care about what I'm doing with my life and what I encounter, please feel free to follow me on my adventure. My chronology of my life, so to speak. Typically, a weekly post will be the norm (or bi-weekly if I'm feeling really ambitious). Life is certainly taking me on an interesting ride.

(the view of Istanbul, Turkey outside the plane window)