The monster was sleeping. So lame

I have to report that at the time I wanted to take the photo to become my Christmas card this year, at around 12:30 tonight, the amazing piece of metal (s)crap was totally plugged off. In other words Europe's largest Christmas tree is a cheap commercial that unlike the other commercials in Bucharest's Union Square goes off line when there is no one left to see, pretty much like Cinderella after midnight. Only that Cinderella was nice.

Why are moms, mine included, great

Because they feed your friends. They proofread your books. They want you home for Christmas, even when you plan differently. And the list goes on.

Shift delete

The darkness was deep, but I have managed to silently and accidentally loose the complete contents of my inbox.

Adventures in winterland

Slipping on ice can be a near death experience, when you do it with a car, in the mountains of Bulgaria under heavy snowing. Of course, I am actually overreacting. We haven't even scratched the car. We only have done a half spin once, and some other occasional slipping. Nothing came from the opposite direction. God was watching. At the Turkish border... I only remember a traffic light hanging in wind. The movement was so regular, I though it was activated from inside the passport booth.

Under the heavy unstoppable rain, Istanbul looks more and more like Venice.

Not lost for words

But I have been short of the following: spree, like in shopping spree, hoops and studs. Both of the later refer to earrings.

Wearing glasses indoor, feeling and looking like Stevie Wonder

Today belladonna has messed my plans. I am kinda enjoying this.

Every morning

Without fail, the robot takes over: makes coffee. drinks the coffee. Then the human takes over: he checks his Internet vitals. Then the robot goes to work.

Bling-bling

Lately I have this scary reflex to reward myself. OK, spoil myself. Somebody stop me before I become broke again.

Today was buying-presents-day for: birthdays, imminent departure and me.

May I ask where is the switch off for the things coming my way, workwise? Capacity exceeded. Progress zero.

Apparently I will call Mr. Right Mr. Talk To You Tomorrow and it will be a hello, how are you, no reproaches call. 'Cause so says my adviser in the matter of the hearts.

There is nothing on (TV)

Things (don't) happen with(out) a to do list.

Off I go to Craiova. It's not even six a.m.

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"

I love'n'hate it

The car had stopped so that I could get on. He had leaned a bit to me so I could watch him in the eye. My look had slided and it was like I was watching myself in the mirror, with the familiar sour burns on the skin under the eye. "That looks like mine", I have thought.

"I have been meaning to call you. Last time I wanted to call you it was already two in the night", he said.
"Call me. If I don't pick it up, I am sleeping, if you wake me up, then we can talk".

This is a conversation with my best friend.

The first born is back

My F717 is back home. Today is the celebration of technical solutions over mind and matter, as I have managed to finally buy those Canon supplies. I am now able to print my own postcards. The shop is open.

I am a star surfing on fish

No voice? Cancel Iasi, cancel Galati. Don't wonder how, just do it. The car is OK, one worry less. However your mum is not going to lay it easy on you. The plus: you managed to pay the credit card, and the health subscription. The minus: you are not so hot on cash anymore. Even less after buying the prescription. Tomorrow is test day. Medical tests. My fav! (If you don't know me, I am have that ironic tone.)

990 - from my blue bed, with love

I am voiceless, again. Welcome funny whispering days. Only not funny hahaha.

My apartment is a good illustration of my life, all things scattered. A banana peel in bed. If ever I am going to slide on that I am guaranteed to land on a soft spot.

Three times is a charme

Three times I have been told they like my writing. And I am sucker for messages

One of my uneasinesses

You know the place is economy when instead of liquid soap the dispenser contains soapy water.

Giving in to temptations

 

H&M, Bershka, Ovlas, Topman, Jack and Jones, Changing Room, Zara, Pygmees, G-Star. Never has the Romanian proverb been more accurate about vinegar and drops.

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?!)

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.

Elogy to eulogy

I suck at saying goodbye. That is a fact. I have been sucking at this for almost one year now. I am not done chewing that yet. Today it was not only the alternator belt that snapped, broke and was fixed en route from Cioranca to Antwerp. It took you four calls to decide there is nothing left to be said. "At ease, soldier! And don't be a stranger..." I probably need more time. And still, the reverb inside me was like the flat line on the heart monitor: none, no reverb.

It took us ten months to accept what some of the others probably knew the next moment you got on that train. You called now so that we could mutually agree upon the diagnosis: rigor mortis. I concurred.

This end is both a failure and a new beginning. Raising from the turmoil, the question. Will I ever again be able to love as much?