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Oana's Blog on Human Nature

Author Oana takes on our daily lives and experiences from a very sarcastic humorous perspective.
Born in Bucharest, Romania, Oana lived twenty years under the grotesque dictatorial regime of Ceausescu. After the fall of the communism in 1989 she studied languages at the University in Bucharest, then received her Master’s at the Jagiellonian University in Krakow, Poland. English is her third language.
She has worn many hats, working as a translator, as a teacher, and eventually caring for animals both domestic and wild. She volunteered and worked for wildlife rescue and rehabilitation centers both in the US and Canada.
She lives in Arizona, where she continues to dedicate most of her time to her animals and to writing.
Her first book, The Healings was released in November 2010.

Those Who Might Listen

Those Who Might Listen
“Excuse me, Sir?” The male’s beautiful black eyes meet mine and he lowers his gaze, somewhat embarrassed. He backs off slowly, leaving the female alone. “I am not getting paid to watch your sexual performances.” I continue in a parental tone. “Besides, we’re not in a bar or at a party here.” He walks up to me and sits down, waiting for commands. “I know it is hard to be a good foofoo and not hump ...
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Why Men Don’t Go to the Doctor

It is the fifth day of my friend Miko walking around with a swollen, half-closed eye. I rush to express my concern and I offer him a ride to my primary healthcare provider, an excellent physician with many years of experience. He declines politely. I don’t want to be too invasive, besides I am not quite the overly maternal type and he is a grown man of forty five. Is there anything I can help with...
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The Bus Ride “Touch”

A few years ago I was sitting on a bench and waiting for a friend outside a nice upscale business center. It was a sunny spring day and I browsed my phone casually as he appeared to be late. Not that I was distracted by the phone, oblivious to my surroundings; far from it. We women from the Balkans don’t walk the streets smiling, jamming latest hits and checking out our nail polish without paying ...
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     During Ceausescu’s “golden years of communism” my parents carefully scrutinized the people with whom we socialized because of my tendency to get in trouble. They did not know the parents of our classmates as well. They might have been “safe” people, but they maybe not. Not knowing who was who was an ongoing problem. Adults were used to keeping their mouths shut, but kids were harder to train....
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