I already talked about my passion for the swings. Flying, or rather, wanting to do so, seems to be a letimotiv of my existence. When I was a little girl I really wanted to have a flying carpet or a private jet.
Make no little plans, even when you are a little child: at the age of 5 I started working towards the Nobel Prize. Someone told me about the money involved & I figured I'd be able to buy a jet to fly to see my grandparents. The 'what to do with the money' part resolved, I had to choose what to invent. That was easy, too: my dad, a TV journalist at the time, was loosing his hair & his concern influenced my choice - I set out to invent an anti-baldness cure.
The main ingredient was an awfully smelly Soviet toothpaste. The only result of my invention was the death of all & every single fly in our apartment (interesting, huh? flies would die, but my teeth are still pretty!) And my Dad switched to working on a radio program which was a big hit.
All's well that ends well? Well, not really.
Flying - even when you pay for the ticket due to the lack of your own jet - is fine, but having a lot of luggage is not. And unfortunately this is my condition: on one hand I desperately want to be light, on the other hand(s), I keep accumulating stuff.
For years it used to be books, now it's my crafts materials & antique pieces that I find at the flea markets worldwide.
The only light part remaining is my attitude. Bring it on, free of charge!
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