And no one needs a good laugh like the truly, deeply f*cked, Susie Myerson. The title is so connected to this quote that we gotta love the connection.

Growing up, I didn’t think too much about what a great thing it is to smile. Laughter is straightaway firework. I just did it whenever I absolutely felt it. Otherwise, I was the pretty shy – says I, not that shy, different, says mom – fly gal. Doing my thing. 

However, getting into the world of adults, one starts to put an emphasis on smiling… No, not smiling. Oh yes, smiling, too. Bear with me. So, smiling is something I know I do often. I just have it in me, always ready to come out, whenever I’m enjoying the people, work, whatever, life in general. Smiling, a lot of the times, for me, is a form of dancing. We cry when we necessarily have to. But, then, you smile. No. Then, I laugh. And when you laugh in a world of adults who forgot how to laugh, who forgot how to do things without an agenda, you feel like you’re part of a Monet painting. In the moment, you feel so good that you don’t even think about the cloud you’re on, you only lose yourself in the painting.

Or in the kitchen my brother and I used to show each other the chewed food in our mouths, behind our parents’ backs, when I was five and, frankly, always. Wide open smile. Grin. Or in the neighbourhood I grew up until aged 11, with my childhood friends, playing around until late; hide-and-seek, the elastic game etc.

I’ve always loved dancing. I’m sure I was having my own party on the inside, in the picture above. Too much of my own party, peut être. This is the child I was. I had to dig really deep, that’s how shy I was as a kid, although my mom says You didn’t seem shy. That’s because she’s mom and she can see right through me. I know I felt so, back in the day, when I knew more about shy than I knew (but felt) about laughter. I mostly laughed with my brother, I now come to realise. We weren’t the typical brother and sister that made you go, from the second you saw us, Aww. We were just being us and we loved to fall asleep to the same music cassette playing softly on the stereo in his – turned our, yes! – room, every night. 

Now? Now I talk to everyone. Who I laugh with… Well, that’s alchemy. And no one needs a good laugh like the truly, deeply f*cked, said Susie in The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel. Now. That’s the thing. 

This is my current profile picture on Whatsapp. Truly, deeply f*cked. These words, put together, make me think of the difference between F*ck! or F***ck!. It’s in the tone, but let’s go.

The heart shaped eyes emoji shows up the moment you think F*ck!; it’s a mood the heart shaped eyes emoji, I think, describes best. You do your tone. This emoji is my name on Whatsapp ever since Whatsapp first met my number. It’s not a statement or anything. I’m just stuck with it and it’s stuck with me. Just like a licked stamp and a letter are. We are responsible for everything that happens to us, newsflash. It’s the love or the fear that we choose to lead our lives with. Tough choice, f*ck!

Now what emoji best describes F***ck!? Snowboarding through life. Smiling. Snowboarding some more. Smiling. And then, one day, you laugh. Pause. Pause. Pause. With tears in your eyes. F***ck!. Pause. Pause. Pause. That’s when you know that both the truly and the deeply were totally worth it. Fighting for it through life. Not giving up on it. Ever. No matter how hard it was. And it was. Hard! The magic wand? Use the corresponding face for the corresponding emotion, as Meg Ryan says in French Kiss.

Pain is knowledge rushing in to fill a gap. When you stub your toe on the foot of the bed, that was a gap in knowledge, I once heard Jerry Seinfeld saying on Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee.

You don’t feel the pain until only after you stubbed the toe.Fractions of seconds, but still. Next time, you turn the pain into an object, you look at it and say Nope. If only it would be so easy with the toe, as well.

I used to think that it was a bad thing (sort of) that I didn’t hear all the time around me, as a baby, that I’m this and that gorgeous thing. My parents weren’t keen on making my brother or me feel in any sort of way. They were busy all the time and they were just being themselves. Kind, but also parents. I’ve come to realise – without having ever putting it into words, until now – that they encouraged us to be us. Now, they’d be like Oh, Cristina, knock it off already, but I’m like 1. I’m just getting started! and 2. You’re a big part of me enjoying me, literally.

So. Thank. You.

Parents would do anything these days except let them [kids] be exactly who they are, said Banksy. The relationships in our family haven’t only been smooth. Quite on the contrary, at times, but! We were all true to who we were. Truly, deeply f*cked. Hey, mom, come on, you know what I mean. She knows. When I talk, I talk. When she is my mom, she is my mom. Both situations involve delicious food on the table. From time to time, she says it’s too sincere what you put out there. I say it’s too delicious the food on the table not to. And I start with everything. Mom, Hemingway said ‘Write about what hurts‘, aaand we put everything on the table. Sometimes, we’re in the painting, other times, it gets hard. 

But. It’s. Always. Real. Fun! Today, we can all truly, deeply chill together.

Chris Rock said that kids need bullying so they learn, on their own, how to navigate through life. I think that bullying is, almost always, around us, one way or another. It might come in the most unexpected ways, from the people you expect the least. Friends even. And it hurts, but you learn 1. That nobody’s perfect, 2. That everyone’s on their own journey and is responsible for everything that happens to them, 3. How to protect yourself from the bullies and you become stronger, 4. That the challenge is staying open in a world designed to close you up. When you let a window open, you find each other again. Better. When you draw an imaginary wall, you know it’s forever. It’s when you know. It’s when the bullies learn about no longer being allowed to bully you (or anyone, hopefully) anymore. It’s like Gaga said: Life is beautiful, but sometimes you have to be a pitbull.

And this loving force… God, light… It’s always there and how close to it or far from it you are only you know, but it’s there is something I heard Madonna saying, in an interview, many years ago.

It’s not about being nice. It’s about being real.

And 5. That there are, thank the stars, people who just don’t want to hurt you and want to make you laugh. That being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you.

Friends don’t lie!, Stranger Things

When I heard Don’t worry, I will take care of you, in the most random (we know what random means) way, it felt like floating. I guess I needed to learn how to take care of myself first, before having someone else doing it for me. 1. And 2. A surprise comes with the package. It’s the laugher. Wait. There’s more. What?! I know, right? It’s the laughter with tears in my eyes. That’s when you know it’s real. My real. It takes someone real and you know it’s real what you feel. And you’re on a cloud up high. And. Feel. Their. Heart. Opening. That’s when you know that both the truly and the deeply were, totally, worth it x2.

I love seeing someone show something that they kind of can’t hide. Like laughter, let’s say.

An excerpt from Clarissa Pinkola Estés’ The Women Who Run With Wolves, a book I started to read during the days I rediscovered the laughter with tears in my eyes… Funny, funny!

Laughter is something one shares with oneself as well as with many others. There are only a couple of things one is better off to do alone, none comes rapidly to mind, but it kinda sounds legit. Because the rest of the things – or is it really all of them?! – are wonderful when shared. Well, a thing or two to do alone come to mind, after all. But it’s the foundational principle that I started Oz in Paris with that I find to be the most fun in the world. Drumroll. Connection. Drumroll. When I discovered the feeling of a connection, I was hooked. Maybe it was the moment I fell asleep with music. Maybe it was a hug. An eye contact. It’s the connection that makes some sort of longing vanish into the water from the painting and makes me feel at home. And when the best spots the best, you can bet it’s the best!, said the same Susie in The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel.

Your best, says yours truly.

If you made it this far, thank you, and hello again!

PS: I mean, I quarantined with my parents, in the mountains, and my dad filmed me:

LATER EDIT: I just ran into this.