People shopping

So I went out last night, with my best friend. Gay friend and gal hit the down town. She was of course discontent with her looks, apparently not elegant enough for the place we were about to enter. That did not stop us from (a) sitting at the reserved table, not for us, (b) spending all our money on gin and tonic, although we were planning for frappe, (c) update on our respective love life, fuck life and rest of the nine lives we each have inside us, (d) plan buying more clothes, (e) people-shop everybody in the club, and (f) depart stressing we are sick with all the tacky rich people. Or was is just the tacky people AND the rich people? Well, what can I say, I miss being normal. Over and out from Timisoara.

Today early night I am flying back to Bucharest to my unhealthy and hecticly stressful life I have also learned to enjoy. I have a lot on my mind. Especially work is so behind I think I am ahead.

Sunday will be something, with Professor Ball arriving, I have to pick him up at the airport, and pizza with Friends at the Roman Arenas.

And now my mother is taking me shopping. Real shopping. So I must run, opportunities have to be seized. Bye.