Perfectly Imperfect

I second that...

2011-09-05T11:27:00.000+03:00

"It isn't the ups and downs that make life difficult; it's the jerks."

Charlie Chaplin

For the hooligan in you and me

2011-08-26T22:48:00.002+03:00

"Once you've taken a few punches and realized you're not made of glass, you don't feel alive unless you're pushing yourself as far as you can go." - Green Street Hooligans

In celebration of having my cable TV signal cut off, I'm watching this movie for like the third time in a week while editing my previous post. Sloppy narrative, mate... And I'm talking 'bout me own post here; Lexi Alexander did a decent job as far as the movie is concerned.

If you dig chick flicks, you might want to skip this one. But if you're more on the angrier side of life (I know I am) or if you like a good display of testosterone (I know I do), then go for it.

Green Street Hooligans manages to transmit the same raw energy you might get attending a heavy metal fest if you dared partake in a wall of death. The story has layers and complexity, but evolves simple enough to hit you on a very instinctual level.

Hey, it's late, I got me drink here, and I know exactly what hits me on a very instinctual level right now...

Oi Charlie! I'm Randi.

You can put that on your wall, asshole

2011-08-25T23:50:00.000+03:00

Some people never get when it's over. Take, for instance, my ex. Hell, you can even take him, but you won't be leaving with much...

You'd expect that after almost a decade of reluctant interaction it would sink in that we are not exactly friends. It's my fault, I admit; I don't respond well to threats. Nor insults.

I also have zero tolerance for egotistic bastards that think the world revolves around them. Take your 35 missed calls and shove them. Now it's not a good time. Tomorrow won't do for me either. Why is none of your business. You do not harass and threaten me and expect us to be all buddy-buddy afterwards. If you do, you're stupid. I don't respond well to that either.

At times I flirted with the idea of starting a Facebook account using my real name, just so that I could write on the welcoming page "If we didn't keep in touch, there's probably a good reason for it."

And there is. If I find it so easy to avoid the people I am actually friends with, how hard do you think it is for me avoiding those who got on my bad side?

So, tell me about yourself...

2011-08-18T21:45:00.001+03:00

Talking about yourself is part of the process of meeting new people. It's how you "sell" yourself to the world. The world knows they're watching a commercial, they just accept it hoping the commercial is short, and possibly entertaining.

I used to like meeting new people, even though I've always been lousy at keeping in touch. My best friend hears that a lot at her workplace: "If she's your best friend, how come we never see her?!"

Nowadays I just got tired of the process of sharing things about myself. Things I like, things I don't like, things I've done, things I want to do, what's the point? Most of the time people only pretend to listen to you. Nodding is some sort of metronome for keeping the pace with their unspoken thoughts.

I also got tired of people saying the same things, acting the same way, complaining about the same factors, yet making no changes, unable or unwilling to come up with a plan to shift things around, unable to come up with original lies, at least.

New faces that come with old lines. If you let your guard down, people act like a virus; they creep in, slow you down and take advantage. They're exploiting your weakness while delivering a lethal cocktail of drama, self-pity (or over-confidence) and half-ass friendship.

They're not really interested in being your friends, they just need as many people as possible reassuring them of their own awesomeness.

And all this nightmare for the prospect of a couple minutes' copulation? No wonder people often go for one night stands. "A little less conversation, a little more action, please."

8 years

2011-07-28T01:21:00.001+03:00

How long is 8 years? Well, for me it was not that long. Most of it went by in a flash.

Except the waiting part...

Waiting for my divorce to go through. 6 years, compared to the 13 months of actual marriage.
Waiting for a better job.
Waiting for a better paying job.
Waiting for the right moment to leave this place behind, and always finding a reason not to.
Waiting for the right moment to wear this lingerie/that dress/those shoes, until they no longer fitted.
Waiting for the prices to drop on that particular phone/laptop/player until it was obsolete.
Waiting for this or that guy to write/call/come by/come clean/get his shit together/get lost/get out of my system.

Despite my depiction, waiting is actually not a curse. Instead of being an invitation to failure, as perpetual procrastination is, waiting has an inherent silver lining to it, holding the illusive promise of hope.

If life was all about fitting pieces comfortably together, I would have finished the puzzle a long time ago. I would now be living a perfect, comfy, uneventful middle class existence with my one and only boyfriend. I knew we would never have any reason not to get along. I knew it could and it would have been forever. And that perspective terrified me the most, as it erased all the variables from the equation.

It's like you're being told you're going to die for sure when you're 87 years, 3 months and 6 days old. You probably won't be able to enjoy your longevity, knowing for certain when your life is destined to end. I know I wouldn't. I'd rather live less, and not know what tomorrow holds.

I know most people chase the "happily ever after" mirage. In a way, I do too. I guess I just secretly wish I never find it.

Is that why I'm constantly sabotaging my personal life?

That is a very good question, but not even I know the answer to it. Instead of paying hefty bills to shrinks, I've been scribbling here for the last 8 years, confiding in whomever was willing to listen at the time. It's been less expensive, and more rewarding, as I've managed to increase the number of people I call "friends" from 3, to... well... more than that. It also increased the number of people I call "assholes", but perhaps more about that in another post.

The House

2011-07-03T01:21:00.001+03:00

I want to build myself a house
As far away as possible
From all the things
I know.

As far away as possible from the mountains
Out of which squirrels leap in the morning
Like apostles in a clock
Naive beyond belief.

And I don’t want it on the shore
Of that white tiredness
Where I could see through every window
An enamelled scale.

And I know all the tricks
Of the plain.
What else can you expect from her
If at night she frees the grass and wheat
To grow through your ribs and temples?

In any place at all
I’d get so fearfully bored
I couldn’t even
Hang
On my wall
Pictures
The doorway would look too familiar
I’d be feeling I had to move on.

If only I could build myself a house
As far away as possible from
Myself.

The house
By Marin Sorescu

Translated By Ted Hughes and Ioana Russell-Gebbett

Count your winnings

2010-08-11T23:58:00.004+03:00

I had another wipe-people-I-don't-stay-in-touch-with-from-the-contacts moment that coincided with a chat with a friend.

She was explaining the hardships of parting ways with an ex while doing her best to remain friends. I admit I never understood the "remaining friends" concept. I don't encourage slashing throats and smashing china on the way out, but putting so much work into a relationship that just ended makes no sense. We all know that the only way we're ever going to meet again is by accident.

There are people who collect people, because "you never know when you're going to need them". I prefer giving them away, like clothes that do not fit me anymore. As Mae West wisely put it, "all ex boyfriends should be given second chances; with somebody else."

For me people are like lottery tickets: scratch and see if you've won anything. For others, people are "investments", so they keep pumping and pumping into these emotional piggy banks. Sadly, in order to assess their gain, they always need to break them apart.

The L-word

2010-02-14T22:48:00.007+02:00

What is the first image that comes to your mind when you hear the world "love"? People kissing? Holding hands? Making love? I suppose those qualify as well. It's one of the many facets of love that has been force-fed to us to the point of becoming a dull stereotype. I probably bought it too when I was greener.

I was involuntarily exposed to a lot of sappy things this day. For the sake of the argument I was trying to answer my own question. One image kept coming back to me as the true definition of love. One of them, anyway. And the movie was a thriller... Kudos to you if you recognize it.

A sense of loss

2010-02-07T03:24:00.003+02:00

I am quite late in keeping up with the hype and the trends. I opened my twitter account last year because my friends were updating their blogs less and less frequent and I missed having them in my life.

From my entourage I was the last one to join last.fm, years after my friends. My hesitation came from my perception of enjoying music as a personal, intimate act. Why would I want someone to see how many times I've played "For so long" over and over? Why would I let complete strangers tap into my mind and feel my mood? I still feel like that, but, unlike twitter, last.fm doesn't have a privacy option. And I grew fond of the sucker, especially since I started moderating the groups of 2 bands I love.

I love dancing but I hate dancing in public. The way I experience music and the way it makes me move is such an intrinsic part of myself that I always felt like an exhibitionist when my friends took me out dancing. I feel just as vulnerable expressing myself through music as you would be walking around in the street, naked.

As if these idiosyncrasies weren't enough, I am just as peculiar when it comes to movies and books. I can understand how people were mistaking me for this femme fatale reading my blog, as I never talked books or movies with them. Just spilled my guts about romantic failures. Failure took second spot to sex.

Today I've broken my promise. Today I've cried. I wasn't upset or anything, I was reading a book. A few pages in and I was hooked. And a lot of what I've read there had a deep impact. I know you expect me to tell you what book it was, but I won't. You'd probably pick it up with certain expectations and be disappointed. Or you probably read it already and thought nothing of it. Besides, different people understand art differently, and that's ok. Even the same person understands the same art differently at different stages of life, and that's ok too.

So what was in that book that stirred so much emotion, you ask? Something that I wanted for myself. They say "you don't know what you got til it's gone". What if you never had it in the first place?

I think "you can't fully appreciate anything without first experiencing a sense of loss". I just feel it's time for the damn loss be replaced by something more fulfilling. Nay, be replaced by something.

Good morning, hand

2010-02-06T14:44:00.002+02:00

Amazing how at my age I still don't know everything there is to know about myself. Those moments of absolute clarity when all the tiny pieces of the puzzle finally come together are very rewarding though. Still far away from unveiling the secret of the universe, but one step closer to a better understanding of myself.

For someone who has discovered masturbation at around 5, I don't really like it that much. It has limitations and I feel miserable afterwards. I tend to keep it to a minimum. The object of my desire said masturbation = less drama. As far as I'm concerned, I'd take bad sex with a human being anytime. Even with the drama. A hand may join you in the shower, but it doesn't make coffee. Actually it does, but you know what I mean...

He said there were no limits to the imagination, and then it hit me. I have never fantasized of Pitts, Clooneys, Depps or Blooms. I've always fantasized of real men in my real life. And if they had to be in my fantasy, not in my bed, something was terribly wrong with the whole thing, hence the misery.

Team building, anyone?

Careful what you wish for

2010-02-04T21:07:00.007+02:00

Remember my first comment? "Be a sport and give us your password." I guess teh Bible was right: "Ask and ye shall receive". I'm not sure if the readers of his blog are going to appreciate Eagle's new side-kick, but apparently he thinks we'll make a great team.

Knowing what I know now, I wish I had asked for a little bit more...

Small talk

2010-02-01T14:04:00.002+02:00

Most of the time I avoid small talk. My first boyfriend used to call me every day to "catch-up". It was sweet, and considerate, and I could live with that; but then he started calling several times a day. It bugged me because not that many things were going on between calls to make up for good conversational topics. So I used to tell him "you either come over and spend time together, or you stop calling me!" He did. Come and see me.

My agenda is definitely lighter these days; no one (I'm interested in) is calling me, and no one is showing interest in spending time together.

Could we interest zeh Lady in a classic bottle of dry, red small-talk? No? As zeh Lady wishes...

Most of the time I avoid small talk. There isn't always the time and the place for big talk - not that I have that much depth anyway. So, I mostly keep to myself, just barely making through the required daily social interaction. I used to love chatting to mom. Now she comes up with subjects that made the Romanian news two days after I read them. Maybe she should open a Twitter account. This way I wouldn't have to shout "Not interested!" several times because she didn't hear me the first time.

Most of the time I avoid small talk. But some people will never or rarely go beyond that, so it's down to small talk because that is their safety zone. I have some people I feel comfortable being around without much talk. It feels good. It feels as good as looking at your online friends in Gchat without necessarily saying anything to them.

The surest way to die

2010-01-21T22:01:00.002+02:00

"Gentlemen, I suppose you're all considering my statements, asking yourselves which one of them is correct. Don't reach your conclusion just yet, please. As a matter of fact, I understand your stance. Many of us are failed novelists of our own lives. We speak of stories that only happened in our head, and sometimes one's fantasy substitutes one's lot altogether. Once, I used to love someone whom I let go because of one mistunderstood absence. I didn't ask any questions, I just vanished. Years later we met again and we talked. I understood then how the whole silence between us was the result of my imagination. Nothing could be done about it anymore. Something that was never real has managed to create something real."

(I wonder if Paler's work has ever been translated in English)

Anyway, I'm a bit reluctant to read my own words. You know, from earlier posts. Or write something new. Gentlemen, since when have I become such a bore? You miss the fun and the jokes, and so do I. And since when have I started giving motivational speeches?! "Why so serious?" Let's make fun of everything again and be best friends, shall we?

Have you ever stumbled, fell and hurt yourself pretty bad? Have you ever swallowed your tears and burst out laughing instead? "I'm okay! I'm okay!" No? Well, I did, more than once. Joking always worked for me. Whatever was bothering me was always being deflected with a couple of smart words with a twist.

I don't remember who told me that Romanians in general tend to joke about their problems instead of solving them. That by joking about the effect we can't fix the cause. I raised my shoulders then and probably told him to fuck off. I mean, what did he know about us, about me? If it hadn't been for cynicism, I would be long dead.

Cynicism was my armor. Cynicism helped me survive. But cynicism didn't help me live.

So I'm alive, I'm getting with the program every day, and I can't say that all my days are necessarily bad. I still enjoy a great deal of bad (taste) humour, and that's not going to change. But if something is bothering me, I no longer laugh about it. I no longer ignore it.

I have a chronic gut feeling that the surest way to die is to survive.

Running on fumes

2010-01-17T23:59:00.001+02:00

I've always loved driving.

Driving calms me down, if needed. I never get mad or bored in traffic. Day or night, short or long trip, love it just the same. I remain focused on the road; I always spot potential problems ahead and change lanes accordingly long before cars in front of me realize they need to.

Did I mention I'm a genius when it comes to parking?

When I step into a new car, I never start off immediately. I take time to adjust the car seat and the mirrors. I like placing my hands on the stirring wheel and getting an idea about what it is to drive that car. I step on the brake, acceleration and clutch. And I change gears to see where exactly they are with that particular vehicle. I always allow myself time to get to know that car before driving off into the sunset. So far I've never had an accident.

Had I taken the same approach with some men in my life before starting a relationship and strolling off into the sunset, my guess is I wouldn't have been such an accident waiting to happen.

Cleaning up my closet

2010-01-13T23:56:00.001+02:00

Sometime in December I had an argument with someone I perceived as a friend. We don't stay in touch that often now, but we used to "talk" daily for hours on ends. For many months. Then we complicated things with sex. That wouldn't have been such a major complication had he not been married. He never lied about it, he never promised me anything.

I wanted to call things off many times, I just couldn't. I wasn't seeing anyone and I was suffering from withdrawal symptoms like a miserable junkie. While feeding my addiction he repeatedly advised me to find someone good for me and move on with my life.

Back then his harshest observation was that maybe all the bad things happening to me were not necessarily caused by others. Maybe I needed to look for my share of mistakes before blaming someone else. That rang true and I stopped acting like a powerless victim, taking more responsibility for my actions ever since.

And then I met someone. I was head over heels, and of course I stopped seeing the married guy.

Let's say men tend to cut you more slack if you're sleeping with them. I can't remember the exact details of our first falling out, but I do remember him insulting me and me stating I've always found the power to move on without looking back and without regrets. That set him off the roof. He was smart, fairly good-looking, very wealthy, and how could someone with no social status call him disposable?! He was sulky and kept a low profile for a long time. After telling me a couple of really bad things...

After this we rarely talked and only called each-other up for our birthdays. I think I took the first step, and he played along. Those times we would act like two old friends having a civilized conversation, sharing news and pretending we actually cared.

So in December we started a normal catch-up talk on YM. I was just juggling with my two jobs and all the things I had to do for both, and all of a sudden he dragged me in a talk about politics. Apart from my low interest in the subject, it was also a lousy moment. I guess to him I just came across like someone who doesn't give a damn about what's going on around her.

As I said, men tend to cut you more slack if you're sleeping with them. As I haven't been in 4 years, his discourse quickly degenerated into insults and foul language. I was doing my tasks watching in awe the sudden change in his tone and attitude. Despite being calm and focused, in the end he managed to infuriate me.

Only 10 days later I found the strength to write him an email for his birthday.

He replied saying he appreciated my Christian "turn-the-other-cheek" approach, precisely because he was never good at it. Well, asshole, it was my way of saying good bye to you. For ever.

I don't give a fuck if no one calls me up for my birthday this year. I only have two cheeks.

The long and winding road

2010-01-12T21:54:00.001+02:00

I don't even know why I am writing this to you, I just felt the need to. Not sure if I'm doing it for you or for myself, either.

I'm not qualified to offer help, in any way, for I have no people skills, and no training. But I'm offering my ears, if you ever want to talk to a perfect stranger, and my words. Why would you need them? I have absolutely no idea. Are they advices? Hell no, I would have shoved them up my own ass before putting them in writing that way.

I feel a sort of connection to you. And it's ok if it's only a one way street.

I grew up pretty fucked up myself and I don't always sync with the world the way I should be. A lifetime ago I used to be more empathic to people in pain, and more understanding, but I no longer show it. I've actually trained myself to look the other way. I found out people were going for my compassion/emotion/nurturing like looters after a riot. Needless to say they never left anything behind nor gave anything in exchange. And it's not that I expected anything in return, but too many times I was left with absolutely nothing, finding it impossible to fuel my own zest for life.

It doesn't take a qualified person to understand you are in some sort of hell. Who put you there and why you are there still is up to you to figure out. It took me just as much as 35 years to figure out that by taking care of me and my needs, and thinking of what I want to do, how my life needs to be in order for me to find reason in being alive has nothing to do with me becoming a bad person. I think I am actually a better human being for standing up for myself, taking action into bettering myself, taking care of my own happiness instead of delegating one man or another to make me happy.

I am not saying we should not love men or seek affection anymore, I'm just saying we shouldn't feel validated by anyone else but our own damn selves.

We need to be more in touch with ourselves. And first we need to figure out who we are. It sounds cliche, but then it should be pretty easy, right? Well, I've been asking myself who I am and what the hell I am doing in my own life. Every night, for months now. The answer has not yet come to me, but I feel it's the right path to follow. It's like working out the smart way, 2 lousy push-ups a day instead of a furious work-out that leaves you dead and with no desire to continue the next day. I am on this path and I am taking baby-steps learning my whereabouts instead of running amok and getting lost in the forest.

I haven't touched a knife since I was a kid. Back then I often thought about killing my father for all the shit he had put my mom and me through. It wasn't a day's impulse, it was a fight I fought with myself for years. We all have good and bad inside, so don't let that freak you out one bit. And yes, we're all capable of murder. Be it in self-defense or for survival, if not for greedier, bleaker reasons. It's how we deal with the bad that ultimately shapes and defines the good. Us.

Whenever things would go wrong with a man I loved, my first impulse was allowing me to wallow in self-pitty. Why me, I am so this and I am so that. So a certain feeling of self-worth was always there. We need to work on those traits that add to our self-value.

Self-actualization is not related to how others perceive us, accept us, or reject us. I realized I shouldn't waste time anymore figuring out why person X rejected me or why person Y didn't love me more. Finding that path to myself will make all this line of events redundant. Finding out why I'm here is my business, not somebody else's.

3 years ago a man I loved more than my own life told me he "was not going to be responsible for my happiness." I didn't understand then, I felt like he stabbed me in the back after I told him I couldn't imagine living without him. I cried and tormented myself for months and wanted to die. It's not a figure of speech, I really wanted to die. I'm glad I didn't, because I had the opportunity to grow. Growing is not an easy process either, because we suicidally tend to clutter our garden with junk instead of leaving us room for maturing. The moment we start realizing what is really important in our lives, getting ready to throw away all the unnecessary luggage, we're halfway there.

And we should never love anyone more than ourselves, be it our mother, boyfriend, or our kid.

The future is now

2010-01-11T13:51:00.002+02:00

"It has often been said that every man who has suffered misfortunes prefers to be himself, even with his misfortunes, rather than to be someone else without them." - Miguel de Unamuno

So. true.

I find it useless to spend time feeling sorry for what has happened to me, feeling bitter for the things I couldn't prevent at the time, feeling angry for things I had no power over. Such a waste of energy.

I don't want to change the past. I want to change the future.

A new start

2009-12-30T23:41:00.004+02:00

I came to an understanding today.

I had that tingling feeling again, the one that puts a smile on my face and makes me do crazy things, like sending emails in the middle of the night, sharing songs that only mean the world to me, and starting discussions that never end well. I could feel that little devil wheeling me to the keyboard, I could hear that little voice in my head telling me what to say, how to say it and to whom. It wasn't wrong, in fact it was so good it filled me with joy, excitement and anticipation. And, as I was trying to calm myself down, a feeble attempt to learn from my previous engagements, I finally understood. It's great I have all this energy just dying to get out, it's an amazing feeling but it's not enough.

I need to calm the fuck down and wait.

If it's not mutual, if he's not driven in the middle of the night by the desire to share at least an honest boner, not to mention an idea, then it's definitely a lost cause. It has to be mutual and it has to be now. Too late figuring things out way later when I'm already resigned to idea it was "something" there, not sure "what" anymore and ready to (or even) move(d) on.

The reason I ended up feeling like the fly bumping against the glass so many times before was not me bursting with emotion, but the fact that I never allowed the object of my desire to figure out how the hell he felt about me. I was so busy buzzing around that instead of looking for the right flower to present me, he reached for the repeller instead.

Just. Wait.

Tick-tock.

I miss him, you know... It's been a while since we last talked. I don't have a grudge against holidays; I resent the consumerism, but I enjoy the season and the time at home with my family. I just find myself distracted a lot thinking of this man. He's away, far, far away, and we're not that close to call him or email him to see "what's up". I want him to have a good time with his family, but I wish he would miss me too, if only a little bit.

It was a great line about this: "I want you to notice when I'm not around" - sound familiar?

Anyway, I hope I'll handle myself better this time.

Hello, Good-bye

2009-12-28T13:38:00.003+02:00

Gold Dust Woman
Never have I been a blue calm sea, I have always been a storm

I was recently talking to a friend about our existence so far and how certain periods are so very distinctive that they feel like totally different lives. Until 2003 I was still in my happy-go-lucky bubble. I was working on projects, didn't have bosses, didn't have responsibilities. I didn't have a purpose either, nor the patience to look for it. I did have a kid and I felt at least responsible for providing a healthy role model to him. I have no idea what kind of a role model he'd think I am if he'd stumble upon my old blog's archives in a couple of years. Someone told me long time ago I was too aggressive. I actually thought I was feeling sorry for myself using a very aggressive language. I can't approve of disapprove of this now, I can only look back and understand. Nobody reacts elegantly in situations that lack any elegance. Not on the get-go anyway.

My blog was a journal of my becoming a woman. I became more responsible, I grinded my teeth and worked a couple of years for small people for even smaller payments. I wrote about this and I felt sorry for myself. Ironically, I had more "boyfriends" after my divorce than prior to it. I've always chosen fast and poorly. Some say I never chose at all. Although rather on the sad side, my accounts of love and loss came across as a diary of a diva. Nothing farther from it, but it seems the blog has served its purpose of helping others misunderstand me better.

In time I became more patient, and more selective. I started looking for substance. Perhaps the reason of my failure to change things was me needing to add more substance myself. For a couple of months now I've been feeling different. I am not oozing with happiness and I haven't uncovered some secret of the universe. I have a clearer vision of who I am. At least I know what I don't want anymore even if I'm still yet to discover what it is that I want. I know I don't want to feel sorry for myself. Or to cry. I have declared 2010 a tearless year. A year where every day is a joy because I have the chance to do something marvelous with it. I write, I read and I learn. I'm living instead of waiting.

I kept clearing out my closet from things from the past. So far the closet is empty but I know it will fill up in time with things from the future. I have nothing against my previous internet persona, but she could only carry me til here. I'm still writing, and I'm still writing under an alias. But I'm not doing it to hide myself, but to find myself.

Sometimes, when sick, people do this:

2009-12-06T22:24:00.000+02:00

I have a feeling Janos is going to ask me again about that hand-eye coordination thing :))

Dude, where's my cocktail?

2009-10-16T16:44:00.010+03:00

Nevermind. You can keep the tail...

I'll keep the... rant going, even though is not going to pay the rent :) But who cares, I'm wearing yesterday's shirt and last week's smile, and travelling down memory lane getting sometimes lost in the present...

The story of me and my best friend started in the 9th grade. Pretty much like a love story too. We were both "seeing" other people at the time. I had a desk mate that acted like a jilted lover with borderline personality disorder whenever I talked to anybody else. All pissed-off this moment and happy-happy joy-joy the very next. I never liked inconsistency in people and I rarely liked other women. Not due to competition issues, but to lack of common ground issues. My friendship with Bach debuted like all good things: by accident. Both our desk mates were absent one day and we walked home together. Such a great experience that was, that we both ditched our friends the following day and became inseparable ever since.

We were pretty contradictory in high school: our truancy almost got us expelled, yet we were successfully taking part in the scholastic competitions; we had a wondering eye, but we kept those hunks as close friends and nothing more. Our universe pretty much revolved around music, books and ourselves. Mostly music :)

(from left to right: me, "Lemmy" and "Bach")

To this day we still are full of contraction. I started out as shy, taking refuge in record listening and letter writing. Still my ramblings proved quite popular. Despite my common sense and moderate coyness, I ended up hosting radio shows. Bach is the one who loves the spotlight, yet she's the mastermind behind many-many projects in a media empire. Our friendship stood the test of time. We both changed. We don't chat or see each-other as much. But when we get together it's a very familiar feeling. As she put it, she's "the only one who can make me feel 16 again".

During our 20 years of friendship and countless hours spent together we made a top 50 of our own with the hottest men on the planet (most, but not all, from the music business). We called it the "Desert Island Project", but I have a feeling it would have been anything but deserted with 50 gorgeous men lying around... Anyway, since we were going to celebrate our "anniversary" by going somewhere and reminiscing about our youth, dreams, boldness, crazy ideas, we chose Sweden, and I suspect we were taking into account how glorious Europe and Electric Boys used to look back in the day.

Maps printed, bags packed, savings accounts cleared, days off taken and away we went. Thursday evening we only had time to briefly check out the quiet neighborhood of Solna Center and to raid the mall. Friday we ventured downtown Stockholm to check out the flora and fauna. The city blew us away. Or perhaps it was the wind :)) To our dismay, the city doesn't breathe too much life during working hours. After checking all the touristy areas, we channeled our interest towards the local heroes. Not only the Europe look-alikes were nowhere in sight, but the ratio was about 4 women to 1 man. Ok, we weren't there to lock anything in target, but a little window-shopping didn't hurt anyone before :) So far we've only travelled where/when it was cold and VERY cold, and soon we were bitching that "We should have gone some place warmer for this anniversary. You know, like Bucharest!"

Later on that night, still shivering, we decided to drop a couple of lines to Rille, the infamous guitar player of Warrior Soul, asking for advice. After all, we were in his hometown, we wanted to know what "slutstation" meant, and the answer, my friend, was not blowing in the wind...

(Swedes really know how to make you pay attention in the subway)

Whenever I travel people ask me what concert I'm going to see this time. Scary to be so predictable :)) Two shows were available during our stay: Fleetwood Mac and Greenday.

Saturday we were pretty tired and frozen up. (Not to mention ignorant...) We thought (since we were there and there were no other gigs) that we might as well go doze off at Fleetwood Mac's show. And warm up a little. And we giggled that we were pitching in for their pension...

Well, suffice to say that the house was almost sold out. We got 100 euro tickets and there were not many left. And the sound... the sound was amazing. Ericsson Globe is by far the best venue I went to. I can't describe the richness and the clarity of sound. And those guys ROCKED. A couple of songs into the gig we were practically speechless - and that doesn't happen very often.

As electric as Stevie was, we couldn't take our eyes off Lindsey Buckingham. After "Big Love" we were even more baffled, for it didn't sound anything like the album version and it presented us with a guitar player that was more than just "the pretty boy in Fleetwood Mac". By then we were definitely warmed up: "I think I found my hunk", I remember Bach saying. "No way, butt munch! I saw him first!"

"Thank you, Stockholm, I have had a ball!!!" shouted Mick at the end. We just wanted to know what had happened to the other one...

Anyway, on the way back to the hotel we were stuck with a bunch of people humming "players only love you when they're playing". I always liked subways packed with singing folk :)) We were planning on getting our hands on some Greenday tickets the next day, if only to see if it was really Fleetwood Mac or the venue that made this gig so memorable. We were discouraged by the hoardes of emo kids camping next to the ticket booth; they were definitely younger, faster and more determined :)

Somehow we managed to attend Greenday, but they were targeting a different kind of public, and although the sound was as impeccable as the night before, Mr. Buckingham proved a tough act to follow...

Sweden was an incredible experience. The only thing that reminds me of it is the cold, cold wind I brought with me. Somebody call the customs :)

We're not getting any younger...

2009-10-14T21:19:00.000+03:00

Hell, we're not getting any :) That may be true now, but we've been saying that for 20 years...

High school would have been totally different without my best friend. Maybe my taste in music too, and definitely my handwriting. I can't always see the change I bring in people, but I know how she changed me. We shared pretty much everything, except boyfriends, although that was a constant reminder of the outsiders regarding our potential falling-out.

(Diaries. Vintage. Extinct.)

First of all we shared a diary. What started as random notes among a group of people whenever the teachers bored us to death became a pretty regular thing with us two.

We shared the same passion for writing. We took every ordinary thing in our lives and made it extraordinary. And we wrote everything down for years. With the Twin Peaks hype we became Twin Freaks, and our motto: "Tonight I will write again".

We shared the same passion for music. We were very hooked on the radio shows and we were actively providing feedback. Sometimes in writing, other times in person... We listened to a lot of music and watched a lot of videos.

We shared. On the phone. A LOT. Our mothers were stumped that we spent every minute of the day together and while home we still had something to talk about...

We shared the same bed, more than once. Now, for all of you pervs out there, I do remember I once said we should do something memorable for our anniversary, like each-other, but I never managed to get her drunk, so no luck yet :) However, I do have a funny story involving me and her in the same bed. It was the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Just kidding... it was right before our annual rock festival, probably Rock '92, and we were finally asleep after a night of loud music, juicy videos, funny gossip, and cheerful laughter. One of Bach's pen-pals (travelling from somewhere in the countryside to Bucharest for this event) decided to pay her an unannounced visit. Bach's mother opened the door asking this person (whom we never met in person before) to come inside. There, in the living room, a puzzled guest looked down in awe at two sleepy creatures trying to regain vocal abilities. When I could finally articulate, I said something I've always wanted to say: "Honey, this is not what it looks like"...

We shared the same love for the great outdoors. We walked A LOT, everyday. We once went to the airport and back. Yes, on foot. We always wanted to do the globe-trotting thing...

Good things come with aging, too. After all, there has to be retributions :) The great part is we no longer have to walk to the airport and come back home. Nowadays we're driving there and taking off to our destinations of choice. To celebrate 20 years of friendship we decided to go someplace where we could just recap the highlights of our lives so far and hopefully provide new material for the next 20 years to come.

But more about this later :)

Maybe I should move here...

2009-10-01T17:09:00.000+03:00

On a not so distant note...

check out 15 Most Unfortunate Town Names

Botany lesson with a twist

2009-09-28T11:41:00.000+03:00

Having spent the entire summer vacation in the countryside, my son developed a passion for biology. He's now able to differentiate between various types of insects, he can recognize a lot of plants and flowers and became aware of the growing and seeding process. Many a day he walked in the garden, picked up fallen fruits and watched my mom turn them into juice, yummy jam, or cake. He was used to the idea that the nuts on the ground were from the nut tree above, that the apples around were scattered from the apple tree and the plums - well, you get the picture...

A couple of days ago he was playing in a park with his younger cousin. Hopping around, they found a not-so-fresh orange disposed next to a thick tall bush. "Look, ma, an orange tree!"

By that logic, I have a tough time labeling the tree in my garden I recently found human feces under...

Thoughts for a busy man

2009-09-20T15:50:00.000+03:00

(a modern day poem by Octavian Paler)

The paradox of our days in history
is that we have bigger buildings yet smaller souls,
larger streets but narrower minds.
We buy more but we have less;
we spend more but we enjoy less.

We have bigger homes but smaller families,
more accessories yet less time;
more functions and lesser minds,
more knowledge and less judgement;
more experts and even more problems,
more medicine and less health.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend carelessly.
We don't laugh fast enough, and we drive way too fast.
We get too angry,
we go to sleep too late and we wake up too tired.
We don't read enough, watch too much tv
and seldom pray.

We multiplied our assets yet diminished our values.
We talk too much, we love too seldom and we hate too often.
We learned to make a living but not to make a life,
we added years to our lives and not life to our years.

We went to the moon and back, but we have problems crossing the street
to greet a neighbor.
We conquered the outer space, but nor the inner one.
We built bigger, not necessarily better.

We cleaned the air but polluted the soil.
We tamed the atom but not our prejudice.
We write more but we read less.
We plan more and achieve less.
We learned to hurry up but not to slow down.

We built more computers
which hold more information
and multiply more than ever
but we communicate less than ever before.

These are the times of fast-food and slow digestion;
of bigger men and petty characters;
of quick profits and shallow relationships.
These are the times of two incomes and more divorces,
of prettier houses and uglier marriages.

These are the times of quick travel,
disposable diapers, questionable conduct, one night stands, overweight bodies
and pills that can induce anything from happiness to tranquility, to death.

These are the times of too many windows and nothing on display.
Times when technology can bring you this letter and times when you decide
either to share this point of view
or delete it.

Remember to spend more time with the people you love
because they won't be there forever.

Remember to say a good word to the child who worships you
because that child will soon grow up and leave your side.

Remember to hug lovingly the one next to you
because it's the only treasure that comes from the heart
and costs nothing.

Remember to say "I love you" to your partner and the people you love
but most of all remember to say it from the heart.
A kiss and a hug will ease the pain
when sincere.

Remember to hold hands with your dear ones
and cherish that moment
because one day
they won't be there.

Make time for loving, make time for talking
make time to share your thoughts.

Romanian version here

It's all about you

2009-09-17T14:57:00.002+03:00

Well, that's a funny song, 50% appropriate, but no, it's really all about me.

It took me some time to realize some of my perception of myself was wrong. Not wrong-wrong, just outdated.

I lived with the impression I was alone because men slipped away. My previous post made me see very clearly that I ended all my significant relationships. Me, not them. The only men who slipped away were the ones I had one night stands with. I believed I was alone because no man bothered to walk the extra mile. Partially true; I am hasty and impulsive and I want everything NOW. They were probably walking that extra mile but I simply didn't have the patience to wait for them or adjust to their pace, who knows.

I still perceived myself as shy. Truth be told, I did a couple of things that could be classified as anything but shy. When I desire something, or someone, I go for it full steam ahead, giving it a try, so that I don't waste any more sleep than I normally do wondering "what if". This way I only toss and turn wondering "what the fuck..."

As for being a recluse, that is also partially true. I'd rather be alone that with people I have nothing in common with, people I don't fell "hell yeah" about, people that don't provoke me at any level. And even those can prove disappointing sometimes. It took some of them months or even years to say something about the way they were feeling about me. It gets irritating to be the only one speaking my mind, even at the risk of embarrassing myself. I am no longer filling in the blanks here. Speak now, or forever hold your penis...

Celebrating:

2009-08-29T18:12:00.008+03:00

- ten years of sex (sorry to disappoint my fan base)
- six years of blogging (personal, both publicly and private, and job-related
- several broken hearts (on both sides, for what is worth)
- a couple of one-night stands (not even that remarkable)
- two drunken episodes I am not proud of but wrote about here for posterity (and for posterior kicking, to be sure)
- a brief but intense flirt with suicide
- and one gorgeous, loving, smart kid I get the feeling I'm letting down way too often, but who saves my life everyday

They say it's not healthy dwelling in the past, but I say it's good to remember ALL of it, good and bad, at least as an attempt to avoid making the same mistakes over and over. I have a good memory. I keep my memories in tiny little jars I sometimes take out and open. Some are bitter, some are sweet but they are mine and I take whatever life throws at me with a smile.

1999 - He was a Libra. So was I. He was into car racing. So was I. His friends loved me. I loved his friends. He wanted to settle down. I wasn't ready. He loved me enough to beg me to stay. I didn't love him enough to accept that. Or maybe I did...

2001 - He was a long haired guy. I was into long haired guys. He seemed edgy. I felt kinda edgy myself. He was Micky and I was Mallory. He hated flying yet he loved me enough to come all the way here for me. I loved that, but I was soon going to regret it. He unleashed the anger against the people who loved him. Love doesn't always conquer all.

2003 - He had a funny Jamaican accent. I was a sucker for that funny Jamaican accent. He had a cheating ex girlfriend that he was still a sucker for. I was a sucker for a while. He told me he had nothing to give. It bothered me he couldn't even give regards... He was a lying mofo playing the field in my absence. So I decided to make my absence more permanent.

2004-2005 - He was beyond everything else married. Forbidden fruit. Off limits. Which is a shame, because he was also smart and entertaining - in more ways than one.

2006 - I was into rock music. So was he. I was watching cartoons. So was he. I was pretty much a geek. He was a pretty geek. I was living with my mom. He was living with his mom. I was hooked on him. He was hooked on something else.

2007 - He was an older pal. I was still not completely over 2006. He was too serious to enjoy a joke. I was seriously not enjoying this joke. He had issues (but who am I to talk about having issues?). He said some selfish things. I had enough selfishness already. I told him to take a joke and leave.

2008 - He liked to talk. I liked to listen to him. I liked talking too. I liked he was listening to me as well. We did fun things together. He was still living with his ex girlfriend. I didn't like we couldn't do MORE things together. I spoke about how I felt. I guess he wasn't listening that well after all... In the end I got tired of waiting for him to make a decision so I made the decision to walk away.

2009 - what we call a work in progress. I'll pay close attention to the work and keep an eye out for the progress...

Men are like water

2009-08-27T23:41:00.000+03:00

Some are like a lake: silent, still and safe.
Some are like a waterfall: fun, fantastic and fast-going.
Some are like a tsunami: high, hard and hurtful.
Some are like a well: deep, dark and dangerous.
Some are like ice: hard to melt, hard to have nearby.
Others are like the rain: you never know when they come and go, but they manage to get you wet.

Things one might find out preparing a birthday party

2009-08-21T17:24:00.000+03:00

Gordy: We need balloons. Lots of them.
male co-worker: Kiki is bringing them.
Gordy: We also need to inflate them.
male co-worker: Kiki is bringing something to inflate them as well.
Gordy: So our cheeks won't hurt... Good.
Me: They only hurt if you do it wrong. You people have no experience blowing things...
male co-worker: Actually, I...
Me: hey, anything you say past this point can and will be used against you...

Reason I should have an Indian boyfriend...

2009-08-17T23:14:00.000+03:00

Me: I was just thinking about you
Fly: ... how come?
Me: I stumbled upon an old chat transcript of ours and I was shocked at how dumb I could be
and how many stupid things I could write...
GIGANTIC...
bad thing? I recently wrote some more, just as gigantic...
me and my big mouth?
Fly: examples?
Me: I should have a mess alert: whenever I type "love", "relationship", "miss", "ignore", it should disconnect me
we're all better off with me talking less about love and experiencing it more
*sigh*
to wrap things up, GOD, what a monumental cow I am sometimes...
now worship me :)

Mushy Sunday...

2009-08-16T11:58:00.000+03:00

... courtesy of Morrissey, only the greatest lyricist when it comes to love/hate/rejection/low self esteem/lust/daydreaming and all the things we bump into everyday.

Close your eyes
and think of someone you physically admire
and let me kiss you

But then you open your eyes
and you see someone that you physically despise
but my heart is open to you

...

I hope I don't shuffle into Jewel and Marillion today...

I heart Google Translate

2009-08-15T20:12:00.000+03:00

Crazy from the heat

2009-08-14T13:12:00.000+03:00

After waiting a good hour in the bus stop for our Operations colleague from the Jordanian Mission, Silvia finally shows up at the office with him.

Silvia (making introductions): "This is Tina, and this is R, our colleague from Amman."
R: "Hi, how are you?"
me: "Great. As always..."
Silvia (to Gordy): "He's the escort."
me: "You realize how bad that sounds at this hour, don't you?" :)

You're never too young to learn compromise

2009-08-13T13:05:00.000+03:00

When he was about 4 he demanded 3 or 4 more brothers.

"Y'know, we can't really choose these things... What if it's a girl?"
"No, I want brothers!!!"

Time went by, occasionally he would bring it up, and I always tried my best to explain why I was not that eager to give him any siblings. I recently caught him up confiding in our neighbour that he had no brothers, no sisters, his mom worked all the time and he had no one to play with. We had the chat again.

"I want a brother, at least one!"
"Y'know, it will take a year for him to grow in mommy's belly, and another year or so until you can actually play with him. You'll be in school, and almost 9. Are you sure you'd still want a younger brother then?"
"Yes!"
"He's going to want to play with your toys. Even those you love most."
"Yes, he can have them! He can sleep with me in my room."
"Y'know, he will cry a lot in the beginning. Sometimes at night time."
"Don't care. I'll help you out, I promise."
"I'll be at work and you'd have to pick him up from kindergarden after your classes are over."
"I'll do that. And even if he cries and he annoys me, I'll never tell him that."
"Y'know, we can't really choose these things... What if it's a girl?"
"Well, ok, it can be a girl..."

Get it on!

2009-08-13T00:21:00.000+03:00

I surprised Silvia with a hair pin today. The girls were all gathered in the kitchen for the cigarette break.

Silvia: "For me? Awww, so sweet..."
Gordy (not a native speaker): "Yes, Silvia, get it on!"
Me: "Words to live by..."

Business as usual

2009-08-12T00:22:00.002+03:00

Silvia asked me why I'm not posting anything lately. My thoughts have been too scattered and I've been too busy to even attempt to sort any of them. I hate phone calls from life insurance agents who insist we should meet and discuss things. I've already signed, you're getting my money, mail the damn thing and piss off. I hardly find time to see my friends. Actually, because life is such, I've made efforts and I managed to see my friends, old and new, on a regular basis. I can't say we touch deeper topics or do very meaningful things when together as opposed to greeting ourselves online, but I'm such a sucker for the human touch.

(Alina & me)

Other than that, been sorting out tonz of pics. Easier than thoughts, ey? First one is taken at a party I had to go to last week job related, the second one I even forgot about until now.

I went to see Soulfly on March 16th. The general policy here is no cameras. I managed to snuggle mine in but didn't attempt any of my much appreciated recordings because I didn't want a couple of thick skulls to ruin my evening. The opening act was Incite. I haven't done my homework prior to the gig, so I knew nothing about them. I liked their performance though, so after the gig was over I headed to the merch store to buy their album - if they had any. I was just correcting the salesperson's change when somebody took my recently acquired CD. Not to be screwed around when something belonging to me is taken away, I protested instantly: "Hey! That's mine!" - "Yeap. And now I'm going to sign it".

(Richie Cavalera & me)

If I were a car...

2009-08-03T20:43:00.000+03:00

...I'd be powered by love. I'd also be the economy model, running mostly on fumes.

If there's a heaven...

2009-07-30T13:13:00.000+03:00

...I'm quite sure it looks pretty much like this:

If I were a stone...

2009-07-30T00:08:00.000+03:00

...I'd break every window trying to find the right home.

Somewhat Damaged

2009-07-29T00:57:00.000+03:00

I was somewhat undecided towards this festival to start with. My best friend was about to be stationed in London for a training, and there aren't many people my age that have kept the desire to travel as much as needed just to see a band. I was also somewhat fed up with it all, not exactly depressed but not exactly jumping for joy either. Then I put an awful lot of red in my hair and - waddayaknow - the mood changed. The luck as well...

I was somewhat surprised that someone is offering me a VIP ticket (four VIP tickets, actually) just to cover the festival, but it was a nice surprise. I'm lucky that way when it comes to music. I only knew/liked a couple of bands on the bill, but the whole point of a festival is to discover new sounds. New people. New experiences. I was never curious to try drugs, but I was always curious to try new people. I am somewhat of a recluse, but I compensate with erratic behavior.

I was somewhat worried I'd be an outsider in an already established crowd, but it turned out better than I expected. I met The Dude and his posse somewhere in Bucharest and headed for Targu Mures. The drive was long and somewhat tiring, but the scenery was well worth the effort. Don't you just love it when you can be at large with people? I do. Most of our chats were revolving around music, girls, movies, and the naughty by nature.

Quote: "That club was filled with underaged gurls. Genuine boobytraps." - "Yeap, with the stress on booby." :))

It was somewhat late when we reached Targu Mures. Sarmalele Reci were probably on stage when we were still struggling to find a parking lot. It was even later when we were struggling to find a lost tent... I was entertaining the 3rd member of the gang while The Dude and The Dudette were trying to persuade Coca Cola officials to give them a tent. After all, they gave lots of free tents until then. Unfortunatelly there were no tents left...

I was somewhat regretting "travelling light". It was getting chilly and all I had was a fleece jacket. No sleeping bag, no blanket, no warm clothes. Yeah :) It was getting really late when we set camp. I traded my large tent to the 3 little bears while my not so goldie locks took refuge in their single-person tent. I improvised a sleeping bag of their lost tent's tarpaulin. I survived.

I was somewhat familiar with Targu Mures. I was there before to see Nevermore and Annihilator in 2001. My best friend got hitched at that gig. I wonder what would have happened if I let that cute Latvian guy help me with my bags. Nah :)) We took long walks, blurry pichurs and plenty of liquids. We also went shopping for a new tent and hurried back to see some of the bands on stage for a change.

It was somewhat overwhelming to be among such large crowd. I'm not terribly fond of crowds and it's not phobia. It was great seeing so many people having fun. I was so tiny in an ocean of people and it was amazing that I still felt unique. I also felt somewhat lonesome and that's probably a good reason for hating crowds.

I was somewhat surprised by how well organized the festival was. After so many blunders and minuses in the concert area around these parts, it was refreshing to see something like PeNINsula Festival. Lots of guards in the camping area, keeping a low profile and a friendly face. Good food, excellent terraces, great music on and off stage. Lots of activity centers and an affordable bungee jumping platform. And a sport area, with a swimming pool. I knew I forgot something important... bathing suit!!! Pretty clean toilets too. That is somewhat rare at a festival :)

It was somewhat weird to feel like a foreigner in my own country. I don't speak Hungarian, and I don't understand how come people living in this country their entire life don't speak the national language. I had a chat with my partners in crime and we all agreed there's so little pride in being a Romanian nowadays that one could easily understand their lack of motivation. Still, it was hilarious when a couple of guys sat next to us saying "Man, it's so good to hear some Romanian after all"...

I'm getting somewhat tired, so I'll wrap it up. Nine Inch Nails fucking rocked and Prodigy unleashed hell. Feels good to be back home though.

Dark Chest of Wonders

2009-07-23T00:47:00.003+03:00

Tired of reading my random thoughts and other people's posts I like? Interested what the crazy ol' lady was up to? Not much, apart from the regular hell raisin'...

I've pimped my blog (thanx Andressa), hitched a ride to Artmania, paid for it with entrance tickets (courtesy of my best friend). Met nice people (with a car - that was a must :P), enjoyed good company and nice music (thanx guys), attended a decent festival and met friends. Still waiting for the pics they took of my red hair (hint hint) but if you're interested in the music you can find a couple of videos on my youtube channel.

Got my hands on a couple of invitations for Coke Live (thanx Andressa & Ludmila), stalked a cool dude and his gang for a ride to Tg Mures, bribed them with afored mentioned invitations (I'm beginning to see a pattern here). We're leaving Friday; I need to shop for a tent.

Me with red hair. And a beer...

If I were a shoe...

2009-07-23T00:13:00.000+03:00

...I'd be LEFT, because I'm so tired of being right.

Voyeurism de blogger VIII

2009-07-23T00:07:00.000+03:00

Every single time I open an account where I need a username, I struggle to find something I can identify with. I don't connect with anything I've used before, it never feels "that is me". That is the simple thought behind this blog.

Many cultures in history have named things to show that they understand and control them. In others, there is no name for those things we fear, don't understand or don't want to know about. This blog is, in a few words, the search for my own name.

That is probably part of the problem... If you show yourself as you are and you have a name, then others will be able to judge you. And it is ok if you are judged around the aspects of your life you are confident about: you just don't care. But what about those other aspects of your life where you feel scared and vulnerable, where you are worried of what others may think. The idea of people taking me for what I am not (even if I don't know what that is) is terrifying.

This ends up creating a strange split personality in which you only show the parts of you that are strong enough and you hide the ones that you are most scared of... the problem is that those parts of you that need to be looked after the most, are the ones you don't let anyone see. In a way it is not too different from a personality "survival of the fittest" - the Niceme gets all the time and attention and that creates a positive feedback loop, while the Fearsomeme gets buried deeper and deeper, feels lonesome and there is no one there to help out. If only I found a way to merge them in a new Me, I would be able to show myself as I am, without fear or worry, and just telling the world: "This is me, take it or leave it".

[from here, with slight variations I apologise for]

Good one(s)

2009-07-20T23:35:00.000+03:00

Assholes are not self-lubricating (I'm talking about your anus, not your boyfriend). If he doesn't believe this, you can demonstrate on him with a latex-encased fist.

And because I'm in a good mood, here's your ~~boner~~ bonus:

You owe it to yourself (and your wife) to prevail. It is your patriotic duty to have sex during this trying time. If you fail to fuck, the terrorists will have won.

[from here]

On the golden, distant shore

2009-07-16T07:58:00.000+03:00

Been watching videos all morning. I should get dressed and freaking leave for work. I don't really feel like it... I feel like going ~~crazy~~ places. Where would I rather be tonight?
Here.

Warrior Soul - (Welcome to) "The Party"
Besides the (political/social/rock n'roll) lyrics and the sheer energy on stage, what I really love in this band is the bass line on most of the songs. Almost like a band member of its own.

If I were a musical instrument...

2009-07-15T07:41:00.000+03:00

...I'd be a GUITAR, for it requires frequent tune-up to play right.

Some scars you can't see

2009-07-14T22:58:00.002+03:00

I swear to God, the woman is a genius...

You know where to find me

2009-07-12T01:10:00.000+03:00

In 10 years I've had 4 primary email addresses. I lost two of them because they stopped being free, and back then as a Romanian it was difficult to make international payments. The third one I neglected due to spam and lack of spam filters after I got my fourth (on gmail) and it eventually got disabled. It's funny, I don't have people skills, I don't annoy people in the street/bus/subway while catching up with my friends. I like SMS's but I never abused the hell out of the service. I liked writing letters, but even then I sometimes took my time between replies. But, despite my lack of enthusiasm in growing my network, despite my low-profile internet presence and the general public anonymity on this blog, I've always made sure those who want to contact me are able to. I have the same phone number and the same home address since forever.

In time I got a lot of "my new phone number is", "my new email address is" and "my new messenger ID is" notifications. When asked, few people provided serious explanations for it. "I got bored" and "I needed a change" were the most frequent. To some point, I can understand people's constant need of change. I hate routine as well. I hate bad routine, but not all routine is bad. You won't hear me complain about the washing routine. Maybe not 4 times a day like Michelle Pfeiffer, but you catch my drift. It would be nice if reading and enough sleep would become a routine... Job-wise, I hate doing the same things over and over; that's no fun, I give you that.

But I've heard a lot of this stereo-type lately: "I hate routine in a relationship". What the hell bullshit is that? Define routine in a relationship mofo. Same sex? There are only this many viable positions or locations... However, you shouldn't give up trying. Same conversational topics? Mutual interests was one of the bonding factors in the first place, wasn't it? Same way of passing time? I'd be careful not to mistake familiarity for routine. Same activities? Maybe now would be a good time to stop having those daydreams and actually go after them. I think people who get bored easily are actually getting bored with themselves. Victor Hugo thought people didn't get bored with life, but with lack of life.

I find it sad though that so many people think they're going to fight boredom by changing their email address. I find it even sadder that so many women think changing their look will help them reinvent themselves. Just like beauty, change comes from within. Someone I know started learning Spanish recently. My friend, I salute you.

Me? I'm seeing a hairdresser next week. But I'm also starting taking piano lessons...

If I were a bird...

2009-07-11T23:08:00.000+03:00

...I'd poop on your head if that would make you raise your eyes and look for me.

Invitatii la Artmania 2009. Moca :)

2009-07-10T12:16:00.000+03:00

Well, a couple of invitations and a couple of strings attached. Cum as fi eu (posibil +1) si pretentiile-mi. Am doua abonamente de oferit la Artmania, contra transport cu masina Bucuresti - Sibiu in data de 17, cu plecare intre 13.00 -14.00 si companie decenta. Adica oameni care stiu sa vorbeasca da' nu se simt prost nici cand tac. Oameni cu muzica faina in masina, cu simtul umorului si cu dusul la zi. Si fara antecendente automobilistice demne de consemnari la stirile Pro TV.

Io zic sa-mi scrieti oricum, s-ar putea sa ma razgandesc ca ma caracterizeaza, si o sa am mai multe invitatii de dat :)

Gata, acu' mergeti si cititi ca am scris in sfarsit dincolo :)

If I were a thought...

2009-07-08T22:10:00.000+03:00

...I'd be "Eureka!" - I'd be knocking on your eyelid until you'd wake up and feverishly wrote down my name.

Voyeurism de blogger VII

2009-07-08T00:51:00.001+03:00

Us, women, have come a long way. We work side by side with the boys, we're paid at least the same, we can make executive directors, we can drive motorbikes and expensive cars, we can go out by ourselves, we can have one-night stands, we can do pretty much what men can do.

But some rules will never change. I'm not sure if it's the result of society or simply a genetic code, but one thing that's never going to change is the game of the hunter and the prey. The man has to be the hunter and the woman has to be the prey.

A man is allowed to resort to anything when he desires a woman. He can have his ego trampled, he can sleep on her doorstep until she opens the door. He can insist until she gives in, even if he becomes disgustingly embarrassing to himself in the process. In those rare moments of happy-ending the woman will be pleased of the way he humiliated himself for her, and society and friends will praise him for „fighting for what he wanted”.

As a woman you're not allowed to do that. You have to sit and wait to be chosen. If you're in a relationship and he suddenly starts avoiding you, you have to mind your own business. Any male friend will try to convince you that the worst possible idea would be calling him. "You're definitely better off ignoring him. He'll surely crawl back after a while"... Men can call as much as needed in order to make sure she doesn't slip away. Women have to stay put, be subtle and wait.

As a woman you can't fight the same way. It's not dignified. If you break the rules, you won't represent his trophy, but a lunatic who kept chasing him. Even if the roles change in time, the beginning is always the same: Frankie cannot run after Johnny. And that's that.

[from here]

If I were a language...

2009-07-07T23:18:00.000+03:00

...I'd be BODY LANGUAGE, because even slips-of-the-tongue would lead to something nice...

Anything but down

2009-07-07T00:17:00.000+03:00

How quickly you forget
I run the bath and pour the wine
I bring you everything that floats into your mind
But you don't bring me anything but down

I'm glad Gareth is back. Blogging, that is. Hopefully the archive will resurface as well :)

If I were a day...

2009-07-06T21:49:00.000+03:00

...I'd be TOMORROW, because it's full of promise and everyone loves new beginnings.

Thank God for online dating

2009-07-04T08:54:00.000+03:00

A good friend of mine is getting married today. Her story is really beautiful and truly amazing, but I don't have the liberty to tell it myself and she doesn't keep a blog. I guess it's truly inspirational to see two people in a couple-of-years' relationship who still care for each-other as in the first day they met. I wish them both all the best, but I'm sure they already have it all. I begged Alina to bottle this stuff and give some of it to us, so that we don't all end up like this:

With my luck, I won't even get to keep the handcuffs... Or maybe I'll only get to keep the handcuffs.

Voyeurism de blogger VI

2009-06-25T12:34:00.001+03:00

I’m tripping but I am not falling, instead I rise up on my thoughts. How beautiful the train station looks from here, I’m thinking to myself. I’m just saying that… there’s no train station. I enjoy tripping because I’m suddenly yet gently reminded that roads do not always wind horizontally. In fact, a lot of things happen to us in vertical plane. Thoughts, for instance, are vertical. There are thoughts I carry around like a backpack, their weight evenly distributed horizontally, adding strength to the step, enhancing its meaning. Other thoughts I’m dragging around, wheels or no wheels, like a trolley. In their case, the horizontal context is crucial; they are adherent to that context and they have friction. I wonder if there are good thoughts and bad thoughts. Some people might wonder what thoughts are in this summer… I, for one, have always preferred to lift and carry my thoughts rather than drag them around.

Sometimes I stumble but I don’t fall down, instead I wonder. How come I didn’t see the obstacle, how come I allowed movement a certain latency, sparing energy as if I was allowing myself to fail, so that I could reconsider it in real time. I’m equally surprised by both. When I stumble I feel wonderful and I admit wholeheartedly that I am a voyeur of all stumblers, not due to malice but rather to some sort of a fanatic belief in the healing power of the truth. I mean of course, the implicit honesty, not the one exhibited frivolously and with no inner rhythm. To me that is worthless. When I see people tripping my curiosity grows into religion, and the arithmetic of all motions becomes rhyme and laughter.

Other times I stumble, but deny it and keep walking as if nothing happened. As if I reached a destination I didn’t even consider heading to. And I start over and I hear the stream of my blood stumbling and meandering.

[from here]

Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet

2009-06-24T22:06:00.002+03:00

Little_Miss_Scare_All: I cooked :)
Incredible what time alone does to people...
Fly: you should try gaming... months would go by and you wouldn't notice
Little_Miss_Scare_All: I'm not interested in games
Fly: Have you tried them all? You should try something with lots of blood. or sex. or both.
Little_Miss_Scare_All: those are for face to face combats. I like IRL.
Fly: heh, you have good memory
Little_Miss_Scare_All: good memory, bad luck and poor judgement
Fly: how was it... I haven't had sex in so much time that I masturbate thinking about other times I masturbated.
Little_Miss_Scare_All: omg, I'm getting there...

It's getting cold on this island

2009-06-21T23:03:00.000+03:00

This post could be about desperation but it is about hope. This post could be about living with the bad but it's about living. It could be about the frustration of not being the most you can be but it's about the joy of being yourself. It could be about making the wrong choices but it is about having the guts to make choices. It could be about losing fights, cutting losses but it's in fact about standing up for what you believe in and fighting for what you really want.

You only think you have no ties until you decide to severe them all. You only think there are no roots to hold you back until you decide to settle somewhere else. You only think you'll miss no one until you can't sleep at night missing people you didn't think you'd miss.

This post could be about alienation but it's really a post about friendship. This post could be about my previous attempts to leave this place behind, but it's in fact about Monica and her journey. May it be a beautiful one.

Monica Popa "Colours of the Day"

So far, in my dreams...

2009-06-19T19:06:00.000+03:00

I've just dreamed about finishing my book. That vortex of ideas that makes no sense to anyone but me. Catching them and putting them on paper has always proved as difficult as attempting to capture butterflies and have them line up for the parade.

Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of the creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.

It was revealed to me that I could say what I wanted to say - if I thought of nothing else, if I concentrated on that exclusively - and if I were willing to bear the consequences which a pure act always involves.

[from here]

The good thing is, I've always been desperately honest with myself...

Room temperature IQ

2009-06-18T11:57:00.000+03:00

How fucked-up one must be to buzz the ground floor apartment's door on one's way out? I'd like to know where on earth they used to buzz in order to get the pedestrians open the entrance door for them...

It's already been said before

2009-06-16T20:42:00.001+03:00

I miss you
But I haven't met you yet
So special
But it hasn't happened yet
You are gorgeous
But I haven't met you yet
I remember
But it hasn't happened yet

Wine is fine but whiskey's quicker

2009-06-10T15:51:00.003+03:00

Dear Diary,

It's been 3 months since I last got plastered and even more since I last got hmmm... anyway, I took care of the first problem yesterday, as The Stud Muffin celebrated his birthday. Very inspired for choosing an open space location, prietenii stiu de ce... I knew about half of the people present and briefly brushed against the people I didn't.

"I don't wanna mingle. I'd rather mix"

The second problem remained unsolved. Some of the girls went as far as to count the months. Fingers up: one, two, three, four, FIVE months!!! I declined to take part, embarrassed I might need the second hand for the counting. "Ay, que vida jodida, pero sin joder..." - "Cinco meses!" - "Yeah, the more I cinco, the more I want to drinko"... Luckily there was wine and cookies. LOTS of them.

"Your muffin is brown", said Silvia.
"Yeap, brown is how I like it" :)
"I like white".
"Define white"...

I blame them cookies for the uncontrollable laughter that followed.

"We should take picshurs!" - "Sure!" - "Where's the damn camera?!" - "Aww, you're sitting on it!"
"Define it"...

"Not like that, sit closer!"
"Define closer"...

Teh party animals stayed up til the crack of dawn, occasionally feeling remorse for the workload that was bound to remain undone the next day due to excessive stammering. So many cases, so many files...

"Damn, we really should do those Bulgarians, though".
"Define do those Bulgarians"...

Speaking of doing, I found myself writing SMS's again to the one I love. I like texting and sharing how I feel. I hate being apart from the loved one when I'm having fun. I'm not sure how it usually comes across...

This came to me this morning, while trying to make it to work: we don't have enough signs. There should be a sign of some sort to aid the people with special needs. You know how cars stop at blind people with white canes? I want something like that, stick a cane out and make the cars stop honking. Maybe I'll get some T-shirt instead: "Hangover maximus. Honk at your own risk".

I have to go now, so much work to dodge today... Now somebody hold the room still.

Wine is fine but whiskey's quicker
Suicide is slow with liquor
Take a bottle drown your sorrows
Then it floods away tomorrows

How to add up centimetres to your...

2009-05-21T21:43:00.001+03:00

Today Silvia returned from the Deli with about 3 types of candies and chocolate. We were in the kitchen, feasting on coconut layered and marzipan bonbons when a male co-worker interrupted our girly chat to inquire how our depressions were going.

Silvia: Going away fast!
Me (with my waist in mind): But the centimetres are adding up...
Male co-worker: Centimeters... adding up?! Maybe I should have some bonbons...
Me: Slow down, cowboy, you need blue bonbons for that...

See who I am

2009-05-19T16:27:00.000+03:00

Is it true what they say?
Are we too blind to find a way?
Fear of the unknown
Clouds our hearts today.

Come into my world,
See through my eyes.
Try to understand,
Don't want to lose what we have.

We've been dreaming
But who can deny?
It's the best way of living
Between the truth and the lies.

See who I am,
Break through the surface.
Reach for my hand,
Let's show them that we can
Free our minds and find a way.
The world is in our hands.

This is not the end.

Can't stop listening to this band...

But then again, that's just me...

2009-05-18T22:12:00.001+03:00

Most people would like to do something they love.

I would like to do someone I love.

Gadget Girl

2009-03-31T11:46:00.000+03:00

G: After you get your monster, what's next on your gadget list?
me: a dildo :)))))))
kidding
i have no idea
it just hits me
G: I can get you a dildo, we have two great sex shops here in the area.
me: come to think about it, a dildo would save me a lot of trouble
possibly heartbreaks
that would be priceless:
woman dumped by her dildo :)
G: That's a great title for a blog or a book!

Go figure

2009-03-26T19:37:00.001+02:00

Wed, Mar 25, 2009

me: ok, what's the craziest you ever did?
G: Well, where to begin? I had sex with a girlfriend in a auto dealership parking lot once
Most of my crazy stories just involve sex in public places with ex's. hahaha
me: with ex's? you're good... I can't even pull that off with current boyfriends :)

People near and far

2009-02-03T15:53:00.001+02:00

(Pentru leneși, versiunea în română aici.)

Writing assignment from
AndreiArd (10/21/2008 11:52:05 AM)
subject: people near and far
words to use: contact, glance, longing, alone, together

and the result:

I've always found people fascinating. As a kid, I used to observe humans trapped in their daily routine. I was watching the cleaning lady where my parents used to work, watching her sweeping and mopping. She always did these things the same way and I was experiencing something close to arousal just seeing her focused and thorough on her job.

I spent a great deal of time in the window of my parents' photo lab, watching people. I watched my mom taking pictures in the studio, setting the lights, processing films and retouching pictures, or just tending the place. I was a very active child, but during those moments everything was slowing down and I was entering a trance-like state. I found it soothing to sit in a corner and gaze upon rushing people, so different and yet so similar.

I enjoy being an observer, but I don't shy away from the „battle” when the time is right – and there's no recipe for this. When it comes to communicating, I find it equally easy and difficult. In the right mood, or when the initiative is mine, I interact easily. It's not as easy keeping in contact with people I meet. To this day I still don't know why I isolate myself and why I lack the drive to maintain relationships. I usually invest time and effort into the men in my life, with the tendency to give them too much attention. Some can't take the pressure. In fact, a simple glance reveals that there are no survivors...

When I imagine the ideal home, I always see myself in a cabin with large windows where you can see the pines from. I have a small, bright study, with wooden furniture and a library. I have a lazy dog curled at my feet. I'm writing. I fail when it comes to populating the ideal house with people. Not because I want to be alone, but because it isn't easy finding someone willing to live his life like you. Or with you.

I fell in love for the first time when I was 5. He was one year older, the son of my kindergarden teacher and he had a French name. He was living in the building across the street and I liked watching him when he played soccer. He never showed me any attention and I was not a notable presence in his life. One time I left an acrostic poem of his name in his mailbox. I loved him until I turned 13 and moved to another city. It was the longest love of my life, but, despite often fantasizing about our life together, I got quickly over the „separation”. I know now it was all a way of protecting myself; I needed that love in order to keep my balance through difficult moments in my life.

I've always felt the need to love. When I was still in school, it was trendy to have „Remembrance notebooks”, where friends answered silly questions. One of the questions I answered was "What you want more, to love or be loved?" - like it was obvious one cannot have both. I chose to love, because it makes my soul more beautiful. I'd rather love by myself than accept someone I have no feelings for. I do hope there is someone out there with whom I would experiment mutual feelings one day.

I had the most honest relationship with my first boyfriend. I made it clear from the beginning that I wanted us to be together just as long as things between us remained nice. It just so happened that the first was also the most mature of my relationships. Without quarrels, without jealousy. I was loved, I was respected and I was spoiled. I remember nights when we got home drunk and he kneeled to take my shoes off. He did it naturally, without humiliating himself and without idolizing me. I was smiling in the morning, hearing him tip-toeing so that he would not wake me up.

I miss him sometimes, longing we could talk like friends, but that is no longer an option. I have no regrets for breaking up. It was a balanced relationship, but I was not ready for it. I didn't have the right age and I had no experience at all. I cared about him but I didn't love him they way I thought he needed to be loved. For me love was not supposed to be a slow boat ride, but a merry-go-round. A slow boat ride doesn't seem such a bad idea now, but it took a lot of adrenaline and all my next experiences to find out who I am, what I like and what I want. Now I can make a choice, instead of settling with what I have.

My life was passionate, adventurous and outrageous. I was madly in love, as I suspected it was possible. I was on the brink of suicide. I had the opportunity to learn more about me. I realized that, although I never ended in bed with people I had no feelings for, they were not the ones I loved. I blamed this on my impulsiveness, on my impatience, my lack of judgement, on my constant disregard for the consequences. When the excuses ran out, it all came as a bit of a shock, because I've always thought that sex should top all the other things you appreciate in a man. It had to be the ultimate thrill, only so far it never happened the way I envisioned. A talk with a friend revealed more: „If love and sex are so radically linked for you, you probably didn't have sex with people you loved to protect yourself”. If that's true, I never did that on purpose. Protecting oneself is normal, but I'm not a coward.

Long time ago I gave security up because I wanted to live on the edge. Then I gave my status up because I wanted to live in peace. I swallowed my pride on countless occasions because first of all I wanted to stay truthful to myself. But I recently started censoring myself, although I don't normally give affection spoon by spoon. I got used to the idea that people get bored and leave. Or get scared and leave. And, altough next to me, they are not actually here. I still refuse to believe there are only people who see me as a stopover, and I keep hoping one day I'll find the one who sees me as a destination. And I hope it will be mutual.

Win-win situation

2008-11-18T14:35:00.000+02:00

Little_Miss_Scare_All: fat women have more sex
RAJ: the study might be accurate, but it's scary stumbling upon such thing in bed
RAJ: and then you wonder how to get rid of her
Little_Miss_Scare_All: well, why would you? she's an easy ride and riding burns calories
Little_Miss_Scare_All: win-win situation
RAJ: then how come they are still fat?
Little_Miss_Scare_All: they probably have a shaorma afterwards, instead of a cigar :)
RAJ: :))

Do you understand?

2008-11-17T11:19:00.001+02:00

Little_Miss_Scare_All: one of my co-workers is talking with a guy from Bangladesh:

Her: "I cannot change this document because it is still valid. Do you understand?"
Him: "Understand?"
Her: "We need the other documents very soon. Do you understand?"
Him: "Understand?!"

Little_Miss_Scare_All: I think it's gonna take a while...
RAJ: you think?
Little_Miss_Scare_All: "think?"
RAJ: :))

Fear

2008-10-22T08:00:00.002+03:00

(Pentru leneși, versiunea în română aici.)

Writing assignment from:
AndreiArd (10/20/2008 11:02:23 PM):
subject: fear
words to use: inside, buffer, fingers, white, breathe

and the result:

As an adult, I can say I know no fear. I'm not afraid of the dark, I don't have a problem when a cat crosses my path, I am amused by my mom's cussing whenever she encounters someone with an empty bucket... I'm not afraid of dogs, though both my legs have been marked, I'm not afraid of being alone. Actually, I feel quite okay by myself. If too quiet though, it feels strange... I guess the only loneliness I fear is the one implying the loss of a close one.

I'm not afraid of the dark. Not now. But I used to be. I was around 4, living in the countryside with my grandparents. I don't know how I came to learn about death. It was perhaps related to chicken slaughtering, and the irreversibility of death made me sad. I think I made the mistake of asking what was like to be dead. Someone told me it was like sleeping, and every evening when I had to go to sleep I felt sick. It was like darkness came over me and crushed me, so I tried as hard as I could to stay awake. I was afraid I might not wake up the next day. I kept thinking we couln't possibly be that vulnerable, that all it took was willing yourself out of death.

I was in bed with my grandmother one night. She stroked my hair with her fingers trying to put me to sleep. „Nana”, I whispered in the dark, „are you... going to die?” Grandma was half asleep and she mumbled what every person knows, that everybody dies one day or another. I really didn't understand. I refused obeying to something I did not like, and I couldn't understand why the rest didn't feel more like me, especially about something as ugly as death. „I'm not ever going to die, am I Nana?”. I can't remember whether she lied to me or not, but shortly after that the night didn't terrify me anymore.

My life changed as well. Dad was more and more aggressive at home, and I ended up dreading him and hating him. In time, death, my lifelong foe, became a trusted friend. He often invited me over, to talk. I never went, but I peaked inside a few times. My biggest fear back then was not being able to protect the people I loved. My mother. I really wanted to kill myself, but I was a coward and couldn't find a way to do it without pain and without mess. Then I wanted to kill him. Being a child I knew I only stood a chance when he was asleep. But I was still a coward and I held back. At the time I had all sorts of psychotic scenarios, like what would happen if my mother's soul would cross into my father's body and the other way around. Could I still hate that face knowing it was my mother? And how could I hug her if it was really him...

This went on all my childhood, although I never accepted my fate. I was tormented less about what happened to me, but about what was happening to the only person I cared about. I sometimes stood between them, like a buffer, but it failed to have the effect I hoped for. I only managed to escalate the fight, bringing mom in my situation. She would rather have had her suffer instead of me.

There's a time when teenagers start acting up and rebel. I remember getting my ID and making the first irreversible decision of my life. I was going to leave that place behind. I wanted to leave with my mother, and I had tried a couple of times before to persuade her. She always changed her mind. This time I didn't try to convince her, I only told her I was leaving. It didn't matter where, as long as it was quiet. I would no longer bite pillows, yell around the house by myself and pretend to be asleep when I heard the key in the door.

All my life I carried around the belief I was ugly. He had told me that for so long that I started believing it. Besides, I had a ton of pictures to prove it. Above all I hated the black and white pictures, for I looked like a gipsy girl in all of them. My face was dark and the expression was not of a kid who enjoyed having her picture taken. Ironically, the first pictures I liked my looks in were taken at 15, and they were also balck and white.

I have the best memories from my current home. I never liked the apartment itself, and always thought of it as something temporary. But here I experienced the best part of my existence. I found my peace here, I listened to music here, I spent hours on the phone here, I changed a lot here. Sometimes, when I dream, I dream the old house. I'm glad I haven't dreamed houses in a long time.

As an adult, I can say I know no fear. To be honest, I know fear but I don't accept it. Actually, I accept it but I don't let it control me. Perhaps I do, but I think of solutions. Or maybe I think of nothing at all and only try to breathe.

Obsession #2

2008-08-22T14:34:00.000+03:00

For those who do not know me, I like walking instead of being stuck in traffic. I am also fortunate to work pretty close from where I live.

For over 6 months now I've been crossing paths with this fellow I started to like very much. In the beginning I was tempted to walk straight to him and slip him a note. I guess it said something about how we sometimes get this good vibe about someone just by looking in their eyes. And may I add, what beautiful eyes... The kind of eyes that show there is a person behind the stare, and even one that might have a story to tell...

I didn't give him the note though, suddenly remembering all the previous times I was impulsive and when things didn't work out quite the way I expected. We keep passing each-other by every day. We either keep looking at each-other or keep avoiding to notice each-other's presence.

Why do we make things so complicated?

ALANNAH MYLES "Song Instead Of A Kiss"
Album "Rockinghorse" - 1992

And so this is Christmas...

2007-12-25T23:41:00.005+02:00

There are people for whom the Christmas is no longer a festivity, but a vile manipulation of our feelings, a marketing excuse for consumerism, and lately a teary media circus.

I personally like Christmas. I am not into parties, so I'd rather be home with my family. I was working on many Christmases past, and some New Year's Eves. I didn't see it as a punishment, but as a normality. If you ask me, a good Christmas doesn't have anything to do with rushing to god knows what mountain resort, or with travelling to exotic destinations; least of all with clubbing. I know, you're gonna tease me with that „not getting any younger” joke. To tell you the truth, I wasn't much different 10 years ago either. I've always liked curling under the blanket, watching re-runs while munching on icecream. Cookies are my only vice during the holidays, and I try as much as possible to prevent excessive cooking.

There are a couple of movies I enjoy watching this time of the year. “A beautiful life” is your typical Christmas movie, but I always laugh my head off watching „Barefoot in the park”. I just love that quirky humour. Does anyone remember „Home alone”? I thought so... The „themed” American movies instilled in me the passion of decorating the house, the tree, the presents.

I guess I am trying to ballance my reluctance to have fun on command (because it's THE time to be jolly and everybody else is) with the pleasure of conforming to some norms. I like to give and receive presents. I love it when it's snowing, although I would rather enjoy the snow from my window than take part in a snowball fight. I like toasting for new beginnings and I like hoping for a better year. I'd like to believe I'm becoming a better person (more mature, more accomplished, happier in my own skin) with every passing year. I'd like to think that people are naturally good and they only change under severe circumstances.

I wish for a new year with as much normality in it as possible, where normality is defined by our own personal criteria.

[originally posted on News FM Blog]

Obsession #1

2007-12-18T18:17:00.002+02:00

Hey,

thanx to all expressing concern regarding the well being of the Quiz blog. It will be back Monday - January 7h, and that's a promise.

I was kinda busy scooping out goodies for News FM (site launching soon as well). You can make fun of me every Friday between 22-00.

In the meantime, here's something I've stumbled upon my musical endeavours. Those who know me better and are aware of my eclectic musical taste won't be surprised I really dig it :))

WIRED ALL WRONG "Elevatin"

And now just a tid bit of info, so you know what to say if I ever ask about this video in a future contest to be:

A collaboration between Jeff Turzo (God Lives Underwater, Paul Oakenfold) and Matt Mahaffey (sElf, Beck), Wired All Wrong's origins are the result of a happy accident. As a result of mislabeling video credits on the MTV program 120 Minutes, the two bands became friends and often would tour with one another. After the breakup of God Lives Underwater, Turzo began recording tracks for the Wired All Wrong project. In the meantime, sElf had just been released from their contract from Dreamworks Records, as the label dissolved shortly after its inception. Mahaffey then gave Turzo a disc of unreleased music and Wired All Wrong eventually morphed into a collaborative effort. Wired All Wrong -- the rock producer supergroup -- was born from the untimely deaths of former writing partners David Reilly & Mike Mahaffey in 2005. Their debut album, Bring Out the Battletapes, was released on Nitrus Records in September 2006.

A story about the Radio, from yesterday til today

2007-11-11T12:56:00.006+02:00

I think it was April when I bought a new phone; I used to plug in the headphones and listen to a radio station I knew nothing about. That was unusual for me; after the Revolution I knew every station there was, I knew their frequencies by heart, I had their phone numbers and probably have been in the studio once or twice. Back then I had a lot of friends among the Djs. With some I still keep in touch.

I'll never forget the rush of those first years of freedom and those radio shows. People were thrilled to share details of their days and the Djs were thrilled to share their rare collection of vynil records. The listeners were contributing to the weekly popularity charts and NOT having a playlist was the norm. There were nightime shows where the listeners would call in, and there were shows where the Djs were answering their mail. It was a feel-good vibe. Plenty of good music too.

Because prior to '89 I was hardly exposed to any music at all, for 3 years after the Revolution I practically listened to absolutelly everything. I even slept with the radio on so that I wouldn't miss anything.

Then, in 1993, something changed. People were getting tired of empty promises about a better life, and the inflation was taking a tow on everybody, including those who were supposed to cheer us up. The euphoria was gone and the fatigue was the new hype. People with mikes became condescending. The minute you opened the radio you could hear about how much that day sucked. From that moment on the radio became the personal playground of cocky bastards who cut you off if they didn't aggree with your call and called themselves god.

Somewhere along 1996 the music was gone as well. Ironically, it all started with a strong campaign of promoting our own values. I refrained myself from quoting „values” because we do have valuable artists. However, they didn't get the airtime.

I'll probably never understand how crappy music became so popular all of a sudden, how come rock music was banished alltogether to the point of never hearing at least a harmless ballad on the radio and how come gipsy music was EVERYWHERE all the time. It's true, it wasn't on the major radio stations, but I think the liniarity of their stream, the fact that you changed the stations without noticing any difference, and the fact that the public didn't have where to choose from contributed a great deal to the pitfall of decent music.

„Different” kind of music became the new contraband, and „Listen to this new great band” reminded me of the communist „Read-this-amazing-book” era.

I digress. I think it was April when I bought a new phone; I used to plug in the headphones and listen to a radio station I knew nothing about. I was over excited I could hear bands most of the people never even heard of, and I was wondering how come that was possible. I was so happy nobody opened the mike to talk nonsense. For the first time I had the distinct feeling not only that I was living in my own universe, but that it came with my own soundtrack.

Little did I know then that in only a couple of months more I was gonna be asked to work for (what it seemed at the time) the best radio station in town. Best taste anyway...

It still seems unreal that I ended up working side by side and co-hosting with one of the most proheminent figures of the post-revolutionary radio, also one happy recipient of my frequent letter writing in the 90's.

So, as my colleague Bogdan Nicolescu always says, “May the music be with you”.

[originally posted on News FM Blog]

Salutations from the ghetto nation

2007-10-26T22:56:00.000+03:00

As my friend Monica put it, "I've been in London all week".

In spirit :)

We actually stayed less than 24 hours in London, but what a fabulous experience it was...

It was my first flight with WizzAir, and, despite the uninspired name, it wasn't a bad experience at all. We left an hour late though, which makes them responsible with shortening my vacation with one hour :)

But we were travelling with just our small backpacks, so we didn't have to wait for our luggage. We were the first ones to exit the airport. And we found our bus in about 10 seconds.

No, it wasn't this one, but it was just as fun to ride in it through the countryside from Luton to London. Beautiful scenery, it actually made me think I was watching the Hallmark Channel :)

Of course, once in London we had to "check" the major touristic spots and "touristy" pics had to be taken... This is me in a typical London hot spot. No point in asking for direction there, no one was a native :))

I've been told London agrees with me... I think the glow was closely related to the forthcoming gig :)

...or the beer...

Speaking of the gig, I could not believe that after 15 years of being a fan, I finally got the chance to be at an arm's length from the Warrior Soul mastermind.

I have to admit I heard some unflattering reviews pointing out too much "sex, drugs and rock n' roll" and I was somehow worried. I didn't want my first ever concert with this band to be just a noisy, hectic and uncoordinated event.

I don't know what it was, but it was magic. I loved the crowd. They were die hard fans, the kind of that remember the lyrics even when the band doesn't (no pun intended). They were so in tune with everything. And Kory did what he does best. He rock and rolled. He was ironical. He entertained. Don't take my word for it, see for yourselves:

Warrior Soul performing "Love Destruction" in London, at the Purple Turtle, on October 22, 2007.

I know it looks like I'm interviewing the man, but you know me, I talk all the time... I think I was telling him how happy I was to finally make it to one of his gigs.

Kory: "Why didn't you come before?"
Me: "Because I lived in an ex-communist country and I needed too many visas to travel"
Kory: "Don't feel bad, I *still* live in a communist country"

And this is Kory Clarke in a nutshell for all of you (who don't know him like I do)
:))

Typical fan photo. But it *really* made my day. After all, it had been my birthday just 3 days earlier... Kory was exactly the way I imagined him to be: vehement on stage and quite laid back off stage. He has that sadness in his eyes that comes maybe when you talk and nobody pays attention to what you're saying. If I am too cryptic for you, listen to the man's records.

Last minutes in London. I didn't have time to explore much this time, I was "a girl on a mission". My mission: "Kory Clarke". Well, mission accomplished :) Thanx again to Stevo's dad who introduced me to an icon of my teenage years.

Short recap: catch flight, find bus, track down the man with the tickets, have a beer, find the venue, enjoy the opening acts (sorry I didn't cover them, they really kicked butt), scream my lungs out during the Warrior Soul concert, have a beer, have a chat, hug Kory, catch bus, catch flight back. Time to sleep now.

P.S. If any Warrior Soul fans land on this page (unlikely as it may seem), you might also be interested in the youtube group available here:
http://www.youtube.com/group/warriorsoul

or in the flickr group:
http://www.flickr.com/groups/warriorsoul/

You can join and add your content to both of them.

P.P.S. As for the quiz, it will be back shortly. This week, as I haven't posted anything, everybody who ever entered the competition wins 30 points.

Let's say I feel very generous for some reason :)

London calling

2007-10-21T22:18:00.000+03:00

Just browsing I found this by accident. Imagine my surprise knowing they have been disbanded for quite some time now.

I did some hard thinking (for about 2 minutes) and decided to go. In fact I was halfway through planning my journey without discussing it with my mom. Then it hit me: if I'm going, she's going to kill me; if I'm not going, I'm going to kill myself...

Well...

It's going to be short. And painful, I'm sure. Leaving Monday at 11.30 am, arriving at 12.45 pm local time.

Have a coffee.
Hang around.
Visit things.
Have another coffee.
Piss brits off with American accent.
See THE concert.
Have a beer.
Have a coffee.
Look around.
Find a bus.

Plane leaves at 8.30 am the next day. Oh, shit. Wisdom does not come with age :)) THANK GOD.

Thanx to Octi for buying the tickets in advance

Again on love and other demons

2007-09-25T21:15:00.004+03:00

The Serbian Movie Festival takes place between 24-30 of September. I went to see "Dawn"; I probably would have skipped it had I seen the year of the movie on the invitation. Nevertheless, this line has stuck with me:

"Every love story has more characters than needed".

Sometimes, all we have is words...

2007-08-09T11:53:00.000+03:00

Thu, Aug 9, 2007 at 11:53 AM
subject: sometimes, all we have is words...
mailed-by gmail.com

...and words can be mighty potent...

Sweetie,

sometimes there is so much stuff I feel the need to get out of my chest but I do not quite know how, especially that words are still the most infirm form of communication, and still so easy to misinterpret, despite the extended connotation of their meaning - or maybe precisely because of that...

When I say I am not jealous, it doesn't mean I don't care if you do or don't play the field, it means I am ballanced enough to deal with the anxiety, and it means I trust you. Without trust there cannot be a healthy relationship, as trust is the very foundation of a withstanding partnership.

When you tell me of your female friends, I do not have that much of an issue, most of my friends are male, and I can understand the situation to some extent, although mine became my friends mainly because we have mutual interests and not because they stirred my erotic nature. Playfulness is healthy though, it helps one keep sanity and fills a void, as you well put it.

BUT it's what you said when I was still there - that you could go back to any of your former girlfriends as you loved them at the time and you still love them now. Me, of all people, should know that nothing can be done about the past, but I had a heartache knowing you still have strong feelings about other women. In a way, it feels I get to be with you because no one else would, and you settle for what you can get.

I had feelings for the men I was with at some point in time, for a longer or shorter period of time, but I don't harbor anything for them anymore. I was finally able to look through the e-mails I sent the "kid" last year, and had no reaction. Until some months ago, they were still too painful to read, as they were vessels carrying my feelings, and they were full. It doesn't mean I hate those people now, but I couldn't go back because I know if it ended, it ended for a reason.

This is the tricky part, as I know you can easily misinterpret what I'm about to say, but it hurt me when you said you SMSed X yesterday. I know it's for a good reason, I know it's only polite to greet people for their birthdays, it's what I remembered about you and your lasting emotions that put a needle in my heart, and I know these fears can be stupid, but they also can't always be kept under complete control.

I am in this relationship because I WANT it, and I want YOU - not because no one else would be with me. I always thought it was best to be alone than "so alone together". I also entered this relationship with a clean slate, and I just want you to make sure there are no skeletons in your closet, as I am about to make dramatic changes that will deeply affect my life and the lives of other people I care about.

Worried, missing you, and a bit hurt,
Tina

Holiday Quiz

2007-07-22T22:34:00.000+03:00

And it's not the "holy" day quiz...

Here's how the story goes:

What is this ~~shit~~ stuff?
What is it used for?
What is its exact name?

Answer this and we might get it sent to your P.O. Box [if you're not afraid of the long arm of the law]...

All we can tell you is that it costs as much as gold. Per gram. :))

Great at this hour

2007-07-05T02:32:00.000+03:00

and funy to watch [for me] as it was shot around these parts.

But then again, definitely not rock :P

Simian Mobile Disco" I Believe"

Things to see, people to do...

2007-07-05T01:09:00.000+03:00

... or the other way around...

I attended the Pid'jin anniversary party. I had tremendous fun, especially after the third drink onwards. As I am - still - very intoxicated, I'll just sum things up with a bit of my complementary comment:

Lots of people... lots of people I didn’t know... lots of people I didn’t know I met before...

Lack of enthusiasm

2007-07-04T00:04:00.000+03:00

Or maybe lack of money... or maybe one triggers the other, and so on.

I wanted to go to

and it actually seemed like a good idea. Then not being paid for 3 months, I found it a bit silly to pay so much money to see a lot of bands I had nothing in common with.

I wanted to see Kasabian, but I only kicked myself in the butt and attended the very last day. I figured Alice Cooper deserves a bit of an effort, after all the good times he provided us with in highschool. Like so many others, I wanted to see him perform the hits *I* grew up with, especially that there are so many good tracks on "Trash"/"Stoopid"/"Brutal Planet".

Although a totally different thing than what I wanted, Alice Cooper's show was a professional display of a long and successful career. He had a story, he had the stage and he had the twist - which I'm sure everyone knows.

But, after an hour of crappy hip hop [and here I'd just like to put a bullet into the smartass who thought Wu Tang Clan had any business opening for Alice Coper or Marilyn Manson] I wanted something to take the pain away. Ok, I got a show, but I didn't get the fun.

Although not my first option for the night, I actually turned to Manson to "save" us all from boredom... I was growling "bring the freak" but the freak failed to create any atmosphere whatsoever. He didn't communicate with the crowd, and he wasn't in the mood to "work" with the audience. He had some tracks that could have unleashed the energy of those people, but he did not exploit the situation. I actually saw people yawning...

And nobody even tried to get an "encore", which is lamer than lame...

No wonder...

2007-06-30T23:02:00.000+03:00

... Sweden has been one of the top 5 countries for lifestyle for years...

"A Swedish heavy metal fan has had his musical preferences officially classified as a disability. The results of a psychological analysis enable the metal lover to supplement his income with state benefits. The rocker claims to have attended almost three hundred shows last year, often skipping work in the process. Eventually his last employer tired of his absences and he was left jobless and reliant on welfare handouts." Read more.

[via]

Money well spent

2007-06-27T11:08:00.000+03:00

I have to say hello to all the regular prowlers of this blog, and to explain why there hasn't been any contest for three days now.

I went to

an event I was much looking forward because of one of the bands that was featured on the poster. No points this time, but you have by the end of this post to figure out who :)

The location of "Lacul Morii" was good and bad in the same time, good, cause it is an isolated island in the middle of the lake, and people can make as much noise as they want without disturbing the "local wildlife" as I call it. Bad, because the access road was about 2 kilometers long, distance one had to walk in a scorching sun. I even called my best friend to ask her if that was the road to hell. ["Drumul oaselor" mai precis].

No wonder one felt an uncontrolable urge to buy coke once arrived in the premises. From left to right, yours turly, Bach and Anita.

The festival began around noon and continued long into the night. I only got there in time to catch BACKYARD BABIES, some rockers we used to watch back in the glorious days of Headbangers' Ball. Here's a picture,

and here's a video:

Amazingly, all the punk looking attenders seemed placidly quiet.

We then moved closer to the stage to have fun listening to THE RASMUS. Good show, slight change in the audience, although a smashing majority seemed crippled by boredom.

Nothing of such kind could be said about us, after all we had a nice warm-up listening to AC/DC between shows, and already had major fun disecting the lyrics. "I'm not afraid in New Yourk City" - "He's probably the only one not afraid in New York City." - "Yeah, he's probably the one causing havoc in NYC, that's why." - "Yeah, it's good being on top of the food chain".

So when THE RASMUS came on stage, we were already fired up and ready to go. Of course, we couldn't help remixing lyrics, so after the glorious end of their show with "In the shadows" - what else,

we kept on going with "I've been jumping, I've been screaming" and so on.

However, the highlight of Saturday night was THE PRODIGY. They were here before, but this was my first time to see them perform live. Quite responsible for the demise of the rock community back in 1994, when every metal head shifted to techno and industrial, these guys kicked ass. The crowd went wild and they didn't stop for 2 hours. As my best friend likely put it, "UNLEASH HEEEEEEELL"... No wonder they said they wanted us to wake up the next day with a fucking headache. I was more worried about a fucking muscle ache...

Sunday I arrived even later, just in time to catch ILL NINO who made a strong impression. Mixing latin beats with sheer metal, not to mention a strong sense of humour, these guys ROCKED.

I'm so ashamed about the Romanian public who most of the time just sits there and nods. They surely deserved the "Are you fucking tired or sumtin'" remarks.

And now, to my personal highlight of the evening, THE CULT. Not exactly metal, but truly entertaining. I don't know why they were lined-up after Ill Nino, as the music couldn't be more clashing... I was very extatic, as they played all their hits and 2 new tracks. I jumped and danced "like it was... umm... 1999"... and me and my best friend were probably looked at as people usually look at swedish movies without subtitles :P Nearby a man in his 40's was screaming his lungs out for IAN and BILLY. If you never heard of them, don't feel bad, neither did the rest of the audience. BUT if you ever listened to the "Gone in 60 seconds" original soundtrack, you might have come across "Painted on my heart", a mind haunting ballad from The Cult.

[And now, shameless copy/paste from an older article I wrote about the band:]

Well, I’ve discovered them in 1993, when I recorded "Wild Flower" from MTV’s "Headbanger’s Ball". I loved their wild energy and the way this band performed on stage. Honestly, I couldn’t sit down while watching this video. Back then I thought it was a new album, but in fact "Electric" was released in 1987. I began collecting their albums and also found out they have been around for quite a while, initially as "The Southern Death Cult", then as "The Death Cult". I have these albums as well, although they are quite hard to come by these days. Success finally came after shortening their name to "The Cult" and recording their 1985 effort – "Love".

As a long time follower of their career, I noticed their style evolving from the garage days, Sisters of Mercy like tracks to more mature songs, with a distinctive sound of their own, a catchy line, a sensual, unmistakable voice, and the charismatic presence of their front man, Ian Astbury.

If you want an album to get acquainted with a great band, you should definitely get your hands on "Pure Cult", a collection of their most popular songs. There was a time when I would play it every day, from start to finish. That time lasted very long, and for someone who gets easily bored, that should say something.

[Shameless copy/paste ends here.]

Ah, the reason we don't have any pictures from the magnificent second day of the fest, is that the camera's memory card was left in the laptop...

Aftermath

2007-06-20T00:54:00.000+03:00

As you already know from my previous post, I went to

for a 3 days festival held in Sibiu.

I lodged in here

waking up every morning to this incredible view:

I tried to see as much as possible of the city

and here's the proof :)

We loved the architecture

but we loved checking out guys more :)))

As always, the best looking ones were on stage...

We ate sweets

painted the ~~town~~ tongue red

visited Bruckenthal

took pictures

and tried getting lost in the woods.

At the very last minute we found a nice shop and wasted all our savings there.

I practically forced Gabi into buying this incredible dress.

She liked it so much she couldn't stand still.

I wanna go back...

...

If you see my boss, tell him he owes me money.

Countdown to extinction

2007-06-14T22:55:00.000+03:00

Well, hopefully not...

In less than 6 hours I'm leaving for Sibiu, to attend the Artmania Festival. I still have to wash my hair, pack my bags and do all the things a girl does and usually goes unnoticed... My bus leaves at 6.30 am and I hope to make it there alive and in one piece. Romanian drivers have a nasty rep and bus drivers speed a little too much.

Oh, well, if everything goes well I'll be back Monday, to post the answers to the first 2 quizes. So hurry up and provide your inputs.

I'm trying to post now the content for the weekend quizes, so that your hunger for rock music videos does not trigger some nasty side effects. I'll have a beer for you.

Cheers

Festival Survival Guide

2007-06-14T12:49:00.000+03:00

If you're planning to join me to Artmania, take notes...

A bit old, but still accurate...

Chris Cornell and The Bunny Men

2007-06-10T10:47:00.000+03:00

I keep listening to "Put your arms around your love", the new single from Chris Cornell. The eerie familiarity is triggered by a couple of guitar effects that remind me of Echo and The Bunny Men's "The killing moon".

See for yourselves:

Chris Cornell - Arms Around Your Love

versus

Echo & The Bunnymen - The Killing Moon

If you're happy...

2007-06-10T10:18:00.000+03:00

...and you know it, clap your hands...

...for Jim Breuer making a hell of a job impersonating James Hetfield of Metallica. Maybe I'm easily entertained, but it still cracks me up, even after editing it and watching it a couple of times.

Visual DNA

2007-03-16T07:20:00.002+02:00

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Via Cip, Andreiard

About Tina, music, sex and the lack of

2007-02-20T19:31:00.002+02:00

(Pentru leneși, versiunea în română aici.)

[Questions I received live, via email, on Y.M. or via blogging and their respective answers]

• Why do you write so seldom?
• I don't have time anymore.

• Why don't you write in English anymore?
• Even in English I'm pretty busy.

• What keeps you busy?
• One part-time job, one full time job, teaching English and Romanian and updating Renegade Radio.

• Why do you have a blog if you don't have the time to update it?
• There are things I write down because I want to remember them.

• You sound depressed; are you depressed or is it just PMS?
• There are advantages to being constantly depressed: no PMS…

• You do know sex is an efficient anti-depressive, don't you?
• It's been long enough to question myself whether or not that is true.

• Want me to prove it to you?
• If I lay down in bed, I'm falling asleep on my way to the pillow.

• How can you make it for so long without sex?
• No idea, but I can't make it one day without music.

• Do you have any sex fantasies?
• Taking into account how rarely it happens, having sex seems a pretty good fantasy..

• Why don't you give up blogging?
• Every now and then I get a cute message about how funny/beautiful/smart I am. As in real life people feel intimidated, or simply see me better, those comments are good for keeping my sanity.

Time out

2006-12-12T11:28:00.002+02:00

2 days, 14 ours of hiking, 1 gallon of water, looots of chocolate, snow, Glühwein, rodents, stars like I haven't seen since childhood, fine people, amazing children, harmless gossip, making-out...

.

.

.

Mălăeşti, December 9-10 2006

Smile like you mean it

2006-11-05T15:24:00.004+02:00

Blogger voyeurism with an oriental touch:

Ogenki desu ka? E, okagesama de genki desu...

When someone asks you how you are, you grind your teeth and reply you are well because of him (her), when the truth is because of him (her) you are sick.

Today from here.

Loving and living

2006-11-04T14:22:00.002+02:00

He meets his friends over the weekend to write code.

She writes her friends to meet over the weekend.

Queremos Paz

2006-10-19T13:11:00.003+03:00

The art of Sonya Paz shown below is not randomly chosen. Today is one of the days people ask me for free drinks.

...

The color of Mexico

2006-10-03T23:55:00.003+03:00

I fell in love with this woman's art.

Meridy Volz manages to express with color all the emotions of love and erotica.

"I love color. My work is best described as gestural, expressionist with an impressionist palette. I use the figure in all my work to express passion and sensuality. My paintings are rendered in oils and my drawings are pastels and oil pastels. I use texture (impasto) and stroke to create a vibrant movement of energy, and the intensity of color interplay to create a mood."

Tarot reading

2006-10-01T23:14:00.004+03:00

"The ability to overcome desires and be harmonious with others" put a smile on my face... You should know why.

Click here for your reading

Closer

2006-09-24T14:54:00.006+03:00

(Pentru leneși, versiunea în română aici.)

The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread. - Mother Teresa

A day like any other. Crowded. People. She sees him, she smiles, he smiles back. Closeness, knowledge, endless talks, jokes, illusion, love.

Love at first sight...

A friend recommended "Closer", in order to learn the only way to leave someone: "I don’t love you anymore. Goodbye." Unfortunately it's never that easy, and most of the time people leave before it is actually over.

Most of us are addicted to love. Sometimes that love blends in pathology, obsession, animal instincts, lust and blind jealousy. We love, we hate, we possess, we are stubborn, we torture ourselves and we torture others for our selfishness.

"Dan: I hate that I'm hurting you."
"Alice: Then why are you?
No one will ever love you as much as I do. Why isn't love enough?"

Why love is never enough? Because we fear it, we fear the impact it might have on our lives, we fear losing control, we fear getting attached to someone that might disappear from our lives, leaving us as bewildered as after a blow to the head. Dean Martin was a genius when he said "Tell me quick, ain't love a kick in the head?"

It was the first time when, watching a romantic scene, I felt I was prying.

Why is this a must-see? Because every bit of conversation and every experience on screen is related to something in your life. And just like Anna's pictures, they can all be interpreted.

Without being shown one second of sex, you are dragged in a universe both fascinating and repulsive. And you learn. How to be strong, how to be vulnerable. You learn about co-dependency, about fidelity, infidelity, anger, forgiveness, depression and uninspired choices. About resignation. About compromise.

"Larry: You don't know the first thing about love, because you don't understand compromise."/span>

And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time

And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her skies

I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind...
My mind...my mind...
'Til I find somebody new

~ Damien Rice "The Blowers Daughter" ~

So how long does love at first sight last? Until next encounter...