Warning!
This is a book for the open-minded only!
If you feel that you already know all about the mysteries of our existence, your view of life is set and you would like to keep it this way, then this book is not meant for you. Don't bother reading...
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Your present circumstances don't determine where you can go; they merely determine where you start.
- Nido Qubein
"But why does it have to be him?" Mum complained. She was leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom door, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "He is so. . . I don't even know to describe him. . . .rude!"
"Mum, give it a rest!" I groaned, trying to fix my make-up. A task, which was made rather difficult by the fact that Mum had been nagging me non-stop about my choice of boyfriend for the last hour or so.
Not that my boyfriend had, in fact, been my choice. It had been more of an accident, really, but I was not going to reveal this tidbit of information to my already negatively inclined mother. She would only have felt that it proved her point. During our excruciatingly long, one-sided conversation, she had, after all, made it very clear that she did not approve of Beni.
"Ha... tsi ...tsi ...tsi!" I sneezed.
"Bless you. You know, you could do so much better." She pleaded, taking a step closer to my position in front of the twin sinks in our downstairs bathroom. Which I had chosen for the the big mirror on the wall behind them. After all, putting on make-up is a delicate affair.
"You know, I really expected that one day you would bring home somebody a bit more suitable."
"Mum!" I whined in frustration, halting my hand in the middle of finishing the thin, turquoise line that I had slowly been drawing on my upper eyelid. A task that always recquired all of my attention, as drawing - anything and on any surface - was not my forte.
Straightening up, I turned my whole body to face my presently rather annoying parent.
"Will you stop it, please? It's not as if we are getting married – Jeeze! And for your information: he is a decent guy! And intelligent enough to attend the HTL in Salzburg, which is one of the most difficult schools, as you well know. Which proves that he is neither stupid nor lazy!"
My little heated speech - or rather: the information that Beni was smart enough to survive the rather demanding technically oriented school he went to - seemed to appease Mum a bit.
"I'm just saying." She just couldn't help adding, bracing her arms against the second sink. Which I took as my cue to turn back to the mirror in an attempt to finish that turquoise line.
"You are smart, pretty. . . you don't need to pick the first guy that comes your way."
"You know," I replied in a clipped tone, desperate to end this entirely unpleasant conversation,"if it turns out that we are not suited for each other, we shall realize it soon enough and split up, anyway."
Having finished the last touches of my usual, light make-up by applying red lipstick, I stepped away from the sinks. Mum followed suit. At this moment, the doorbell rang. Thank God!
