Spilt milk never comes back

Children, let's share this weekend's learnt lessons.

When he asks for the bill without asking you if you want anything more, the meeting is over. You have been dismissed. When you have done that several times already yourself, it's about time it should happen to you too. So be nice, life has a way of slapping you in the face when you least expect it.

Never change reservations because someone asks you to. Or whatever your plans for that matter. Do everything by your own measure. Trust your intuition, even if, like me, you are convinced you don't have one. When you are later complaining about the above, you will have to admit to your secret wishful thinking. Wishful thinking is bad.

There are several Belgian beers over 8.5. Every time I had beer it was my goal to try a new kind. I was in Belgium, it was totally possible. After one day and night of almost continuous drinking, yeap, my friends were amazed with my drinking skills! the hangover was fierce.

I can hardly conceive a most dreadful situation than hangover on a plane. Oh, there was the waking up at seven after a one hour sleep, and seeing one's ex boyfriend while not emotionally ready for it. But it was still me in all those situations, too. So let's stick with the hangover situation, at least I knew my way out of this one. And that would be: Ursus especially bottled for Tarom. Tasted like orange fresh juice, following as I said the Belgium varieties, but it did the trick. The current update is: after a fourteen hour sleep I look almost human.

WARNING, sex life confessions ahead. As it turns out, no matter how vengeful, hot, horny, or all of the above, I am not the darkroom type. Yves is one of Brussels' handsome hungs partying in Antwerp. Not the only one with a crush on me, yeap I am still valid on the market, but the only cause for my lips still hurting. In that pleasant reassuring way. We didn't use a condom, but that is also OK because we have not screwed either. Although we both wanted. Reminds me of that student joke.

And now back to life. There is snow in Bucharest.

Its

It's the day when he calls and you can feel relaxed and dizzy at the same time.

It's the day when you grab a cheeseburger from the Micky Dee's just so that you don't faint starving while waiting for your order to be picked in Pizza Hut.

It's the day we you change one flight reservation for the other and you end up paying half of the initial price.

LATER EDIT
It's the day when you are roaming to find a vacant parking spot, end up improvising, practically miles away from home, walk all that distance only to find a big fat space just across your entrance.

LATER LATER EDIT
It's the day when you are at Pizza Hut, and you don't notice patented prime time TV celebrity, and it's them who call you on your mobile just to say hi.

Me and rent boys

In Turkey, apparently, I am good for rent boys. That's got me thinking. It's not necessarily happy thoughts about my (coming of) age. So I have mood-switched to "I must look affluent enough to afford a rent boy". Hence, my reply to [Chicken], that's what he said his name was, "I am just another poor boy".

Fuck mobile volume

Ve: "...blabla"
me: "By the way, is T there?"
Ve: "Yes"
me: "Does he know that I am talking to you?"
Ve: "Yes"
me: "Then give him my regards"
Ve: "OK"
T, in the background: unintelligible
Ve: "He returns them"
Fuck, it means he's heard all I have said. And how I have said it. Gonna feel a bit sick now. Life tells there is no use in me hiding. I am so looking forward to the next two years to be over.

Fair warning

If you don't pull your shit together soon, I will move on. I need (your) attention and I am not afraid to use it.

I hate that you might be doing good, and that you do it without me.

Learning that an eighteen year old has crush on me has made me smile. Learning it from her mother has made me smile politely.

I don't write for comments or critics, unless they are good (to me).

I got this as a present. I think I totally deserve it. Besides, it was about the only good thing to top the nasty past three days.

And the fanbase said it

"P.S. I fuckin' adore you!"

"the way you leave yourself in the dark ... aren't you clever ?

the way you space things apart ... feels like you died forever."


" si blogurile tale sunt interesante"

"internetul rezista la blogul tau asa ca poate rezista si omenirea"

"ha ha ha ok, fie! mi-a placut mult scriitura din profilul tau. si curt cobain??? plus"

Rummaging through old pics

A very much me picture... (wanted to write about the latest pics with E50, but I have to rant about hot water. Again. In a civilized country they let you know when they cut off running water for whatever reason. It seems like in my block of flats they have taken the bad habit of just doing it. You learn as you go, when you turn on the tap, and instead of running water you get hissing air. A new trial and error?!)

I suck, you suck, he/she sucks

From the collection of famous quotes , I give you today an oxymoron that is undoubtedly set to make history.

After a blow job: "Tell me, do I suck OK?"

Facts of life like a nuke on the wall

Or like a flower on the wall. Slept like a stone, after laughing a bit hysterically I admit, but the guys are absolutely OK, which is very much in my book. Depression or lack of thereof could not prevent me from eating (like) a pig. Went to bed at four. My mouth ulcerations are almost gone. So, welcome back, dear milk in my morning coffee. Soundtrack for the day is Marilyn Manson's Eat Me, Drink Me. Can it get more appropriate than this?! Lassie's victory over Flipper, 20 votes (57%) to 15 (42%), in last week's poll, now makes complete sense. Stay tuned, will keep you posted.

Mental dental

"I've been very diligent today, so how about we do one right now?", he said smilingly. He had jade green eyes, a red beard, and manly smell, hormones and perfume, beyond the chemicals you'd expect anyway in dentist's practice. The moment he drew closer, he had me dreaming already.

Half mumble, and half joke he looked and the film, looked at me, and, since I've already consented, placed and me on the chair. Before I knew it the injection was done, and strange noises were coming out of my mouth. Also my mouth seemed like this strange place, remote, not mine, like the next room, or the one above, where a family of squatters were moving in, taking over and drilling the floors, walls and ceiling to remove all the wood they could burn.

"Are we courageous today?", he later asked. "Should we do the other one as well?" I blinked. I was high with anesthesias, it was easy to consent. The prospect of lingering for yet another two weeks, when the next free spot would come up, looked totally unappealing to me. Last time I sweat so much in chair it was my first job interview. Also successful.

So now, back to the real world, with a limp face and mouth full of blood, I carry the prey: 2-8 and 3-8 have reluctantly come out. So it's been mental in more ways than one.

Special thanks to Andressa for making me go: "If you don't see your dentist you're gonna have a stinky breath". How helpful is that? Now I have two black threads in my gums. You know, stitching.

Also, for my readers who are wondering what happened to my two angels, the dentist and her assistant, you will be happy to learn they are well, I am still their client, but this was an operation, not an extraction.

That being said I cannot talk, which I find frustrating, but I can write, and boy do I have tone of things to write.

Behold my teachings to you

As I have managed to create somewhat dustfree island in the middle of my dust ridden habitat, and as I am eating peanuts like an elephant, I have reached the final ultimate truth. Dust, like unwanted fat, goes to all those places. A few safe heavens include: the inside of my empty fridge, the contents of one or more beer cans, fresh peanuts and Frank Sinatra.

Yellow brick road

Slatina might be the new Caracal. For the uninitiated, Caracal is, according to the Romanian urban legends, THE city of blunders. As presumably shown here or here.

Now, as I was minding my own drive, following the yellow brick road so to speak, or for the more conservative of you the road signs, I was lead to Primaverii street. Note to self, to be avoided in the future. Just as I entered the street, taking a left turn I was about to hit a lamppost in the MIDDLE of the road. Literally the middle of the road. Where it not for my excellent reflexes, the city of Slatina might have been in mourning after its eloquent pillar of their street signing slash street lighting system. I have seen poles in the road before, like in Bucharest, but they were somehow more discreet in placing them rather closer to the sidewalk.

Unfortunately, in the after shock of avoiding collision, I could not bring myself to stop the car, turn around and take a picture with my phone cam, now my only working cam.

Also in Slatina, road bumpers go both up and down, meaning one sector of the bumper is bumped, while the other might be a whole in the road.

Drive safely, everybody!

Shopping strikes back

Shopping strikes back like a comma between the subject and the predicate. You can find this, yet another sample of monstrous copyrighting, on the Famous Brands Gallery ("Marca te remarca!") leaflet.

Hours spent next to the perfume shelves also resulted into the following instant vapor classic of frustration: "I work like a slave, and don't even have a perfume at home". And since that was a private conversation and I am in the MM mode (mysterious AND merciful) I won't reveal the identity of the script writer.

But I am having fun. And a new belt. I know, who cares.

Yesterday

A day that has passed is way sadder than a day still to come. It was his birthday. Her birthday. Another birthday. A funeral cortege was killed by a truck. Ten kids were left without their parents. I saw it on the news. That is why I don't do funerals. I don't do weddings either. Unless I am blackmailed.

For the third time I have tried finding Rondo Capricioso at the bookshop. They had three more copies, but were unable to locate them. I am probably the last person here who has not read the book.

I am trying. I have my questions, I have my words. It's not a sollution. Dismiss poetry.

Dumpster saying

(Today I know all) actions have consequences. (Furthermore, today I know) there is divine retribution with a sense of humour.

Disclaimer: this post is NOT about my sexual life.

Manual labour

Once you are done with your extensive studies, preferably a Master's degree or a doctoral one, once you are pretty much in control of one or more languages, once you are asked to take decisions and save the day, or once you are there with the feeling no matter you do it doesn't make any difference, but you have to do it anyway, expect the day is gonna come when all you'll want to do for a living is house cleaning, as simple as that.

I am talking like deadlines: yesterday. Or the day before.

About surprizes and pastime

I was surprised to find out that my Italian sewed underwear I was wearing like for the second time has totally given up on me, leaving my butt in the clear. Luckily, my masseuse is not only a professional with a sense of humor, but also one who thinks highly of me. Or at least she has until now.

I was surprised to find the guy is not just a pretty boy. Or rather that he has become more than just the pretty boy. Anyways, I really enjoyed it, and it's easy to recommend it further. I am trying to find the quotes for the dialog scene in the kitchen. One other cinematic moment is aged wifey Sharon Stone combing drunk Demi Moore. Just check the cast.

Sexual threat. Not!

The problem with the word homosexual is it contains sex in it, making it perceivable as a constant sexual threat too. Sex is acceptable, but no one wants to have it at all times in the face. I kinda hope I have managed to explain my thoughts, finally, on camera, during the second interview I had for this documentary on gay life in nowadays Romania some of my American friends are currently shooting.

A threat is a threat is a threat, all the more reason for non-combatant me to be very careful in revealing my crushes for straight guys. Oh, yes, these existed, what did you thinK? And no, I don't have a crush on every guy, straight or gay, rest assured. Although I am sure, as always, there are a couple of people I know, they would advise otherwise... Well, my back muscle hurts so bad I cannot make it out of the house for the moment, so what better past time than blogging and thinking about guys I have spotted recently?!

Airport born

Happily reporting from Otopeni, on my way to the island of music. It's been quite a hectic endeavor so far. managed to do pretty much everything on my to do list, the rest will be fixed by a couple of calls later. I don't have Vava's cam, I have Mazi's. I don't have batteries, so we'll see about the pictures. Last time the camera played tricks on me because of the batteries.

So, I woke up, not feeling rested nor 100% up to it, missing a piece of luggage, now I have a monster one. It contains my tent, mattress and sleeping bag, among other personal items under the same "roof". So I started to score and check one thing after the other on my list, and one moment I was thinking I cannot possibly make it, the other, oh yeah sure I will. I included here the daily internet procrastination, no coffee mug this time.

The house was left devastated... not a nice place to return as such, but I will have to do something about that as I am due another interview on Sunday. At home this time, the other was in the office.

A last word of warning, never say never. Just when I was releasing a sigh "Finally I am on my way to the airport, and I should make it in time", somebody's car had a minor explosion. For a couple of seconds I saw myself running to railway station... Again, not really up to it.

Low cost is low cost, a check-in was a min-nightmare, but I am really on my way to the departure gate, so what can stop me now? I don't remember where my anti-fever pills are, so maybe a sneaky virus. Hope not.

Finally, within the entire madness, T has sent the sweetest sms "Drive carefully". Well, I didn't have to. I miss you, and maybe my flight too if I linger long enough.

Zbyes!

Bad case hangover and hoax scam scheme

There are advantages to being broke, hot and waiting for your friends in a lobby, if said lobby has wireless.

Thus you will be able to learn that after last nights hard partying and very early morning drunken blogging, I could not sleep for more than two or three hours. I somehow managed to pass my time in a pleasant manner until it was check out time, sixteen minutes ago.

Then, as I was starting my laptop getting ready to rant about my hangover slash insomnia, anonymous caller tried to pull scam on me. I am just done checking with the Orange customer service, who have confirmed I am correct.

Here it is. May it be of use to brothers and sisters out there on the interwebs, reading this blog.

First you will receive an anonymous message signed 411 info, which is in fact Orange customer care ;) Hit reply and there will be no number... first sign.

The message will congratulate you and say something along the lines "you lucky winner" have been chosen to be the recipient of euro 10,000 or, possibly, other fabulously exciting prize, and, you are to be contacted by one of their operators. Sign number two: fabulous prize. Sign number three: in Romanian the original text goes "contactat(a)", little gender insecurity I call it.

Sometime after you will be called from a private number. The operator will introduce herself and explain about the scheme. Then she will ask your personal data to be introduced in their database. Don't give it, instead try asking some questions. The operator will get unprofessionally annoyed and skate on thin ice. Sign number four: untrained voice. Sign number five: operator occasionally reads a "standard" text. Sign number six: no shared database between the company and the subcontracted consultant company?! hm. Sign number seven: the taadaaaaa voice when announcing "special lucky price" for "special lucky winneeeer!".

At this point I was really like hello, wake up, smell the coffee, what do you take me for?! So I have asked for her name again. Which she avoided by saying it's unimportant. Now that really gave it away. Thank you for wasting minutes of my life, I am no "special extra lucky winner", I am too old of a spam trained fox by now to get excited by such looser trinkets. Be warned.

But it makes for a fairly interesting post, wouldn't you agree?

Find the original text message from scam company at comments.