I’m starting to hate dreams. Last night I had two disturbing dreams, the kind of dreams you feel so good in and then when you wake up you’re totally depressed because you know they’re never going to come true. And I keep dreaming of people who meant a lot to me and now we’re not even talking on YM.

And it’s crap, cause in my dreams we’re friends again and everything’s pink and perfect, like nothing has happened. But it has and I can’t do a thing to make things better. It’s like when you want to patch your favourite pair of jeans because they mean so much to you and you don’t want to throw them away: no matter how well you do it, the patch and the sewing will still be visible, you can’t pretend you don’t see them. So what good’s a relationship when it already has this huge patch sewed over it?

I dread those first minutes after I open my eyes in the morning. I stare at the ceiling, I go over my dream again and again and I can’t believe it was all in my imagination, that what I felt wasn’t real, that s/he is not with me, that it was only a bloody dream And then I keep thinking about it all day long and I start remembering things, I get depressed, want to completely erase the person from my memory/mind/life, usually I do stupid things like throw away everything the person has given me, I listen to sad music, drink lots of tea, eat tons of chocolate, I do anything that will distract me from my night demons…

I think I’ll call the Sandman and tell him to cut me out of his list. I don’t want to dream anymore.

It’s that time of the year for uRMa… or the mating season, or I don’t know how to call it. She’s a big girl now!

Clothes, clothes, clothes - it’s all about clothes! I’m going to a book presentation this afternoon and I’m sitting in front of the wardrobe and I don’t know what to wear! No matter how many clothes I have, they’re still not enough. “Uh, I can’t wear that cause I wore it last week”, “I’m not in the mood for that”, “What am I going to wear that with?” BLEAH!!! I don’t need to be fancy dressed but I’ve got these so very cute kind of moccasin shoes which I really want to wear, but they’re more elegant than my usual clothes and I’d have to wear an elegant skirt and an elegant cardigan and I think I’ll look stupid all dressed up like that. But I don’t want to go in jeans and a T-shirt cause it’s not a friends’ meeting, you know… So I have no idea what I’m going to wear and I’m sure it’s going to be just another last-minute crappy decision

Noah, am primit o leapsa de la Gramo si musai sa ma achit de ea pana nu uit Intrebarea suna cam asa: Cu ce si de-a ce ne jucam cand eram mici?

Cand am fost mica am stat mai mult la bunicii din partea mamei. Norocul meu a fost ca erau o multime de alti copii de varsta mea care stateau la bunici si nu m-am plans niciodata ca nu am cu cine sa ma joc.

Cel mai mult de placea sa ne jucam tupu. Ma rog, la noi se numeste tupu, in sud cred ca i se spune de-a ascunselea sau asa ceva. De cele mai multe ori jucam in sura Alinei. Ne ascundeam in fan, sau ne bagam in butoaie, fugeam in pivnita si ne piteam dupa sacii cu cartofi etc etc etc. Eram cea mai buna la gasit ascunzatoari, iar uneori ma plictiseam sa stau acolo fara sa ma gaseasca, asa ca cel care tupea “se preda”, iar eu ieseam afara din super-ascunzatoarea mea Uneori jucam si pe strada, dar doar noaptea, ca sa ne fie mai usor sa ne ascundem, iar celui care tupeste sa-i fie mai greu sa ne gaseasca

Ne mai jucam matza [prinselea?]. Dar asta il jucam in fata curtii. La bunica era un spatiu destul de mare de la gard pana in strada [incap doua masini bot in bot] asa ca acolo ne alergam ca nebunii. Era iarba, nu ne durea daca ne impiedicam si cadeam Jucam matza cu animale, cu casa, cu culori, cu tot felul de tampenii. Daca ne jucam matza cu casa se stabilea de la inceput care era casa si doar acolo aveam voie sa ne tragem sufletul fara “sa ne puna”. Daca era cu animale, culori etc, era mai simplu pentru ca puteam sa spunem oricand un numele de animal/o culoare si eram ca in casa pana venea cineva sa “ne dea drumul”

Apoi mai jucam coca-cola, jocul ala cu elasticul. Imi placea mult, iar cand nu aveam cu cine sa-l joc, prindeam elasticul de picioarele scaunelor si saream in casa pana cand ii innebuneam pe ai mei

Saream coarda, in mii si mii de feluri, intr-un picior, cu picioarele incrucisate, cu spatele, ah, eram tare inventivi! Ne placea sa jucam si sotron, iar asta era un alt joc la care eram destul de buna. Acum am incercat sa joc la Photowalking si dupa 2 ture gafaiam de numa’

Seara, dupa ce ne trecea pofta de jucat tupu, o dadeam pe Flori, fete si baieti, melodi sau cantareti, care habar n-am cum se joaca. Mai stiu ca erau doua persoane “in fata”, iar ceilalti trebuiau sa aleaga din categoriile enumerate mai sus, apoi cei 2 alegeau fiecare cate-un nume din acea categorie, iar de aici incolo nu mai imi amintesc absolut deloc cum se proceda

Inainte sa moara bunicul, pe cand aveam vreo 6 ani, am fost innebunita de jocurile alea electronice cu Tetris. Stiu ca m-am suparat foarte tare pe el ca nu a vrut sa-mi cumpere unul, dar pentru ca eram nepoata lui preferata, data viitoare cand a mers in oras mi-a adus un joc din ala de care voiam. Cred ca si acum il mai am pe undeva pe acasa

Hm… au ai mei niste prieteni in Belgia care mereu imi aduceau jucarii de fetite. Si acum am o papusa Barbie primita de la ei, care sta in cutie pe dulap [initial nici nu am vrut sa deschid cutia, dar trebuia sa fiu politicoasa, asta e]. Si tot de la ei am o gramada de jucarii de plus care, si ele, aduna praf pe dulap Singura chestie cu care ma mai jucam era o maimuta relativ mare, care isi baga degetul in gura, iar cu cealalta mana se prindea de ureche. Daca stau bine sa ma gandesc, chiar dormeam cu Monchichi [asa-l chema]

La bunica mai mergeam la pescuit pe dig. Mergeam cu Razvan si ne cumparam ace si ata de pescuit, el prindea ramele, eu faceam unditele, iar apoi mergeam sa pescuim. Stateam cam vreo ora-doua si prindeam niste pesti mici-mici de tot Bunica spunea ca sunt mormoloci, dar eu tot cred ca erau pesti

In rest faceam numai prostii: mergeam la furat de corcoduse si pomnitze [dude], incercam sa prindem porumbei cu tot felul de capcane, mai spargeam cate-un geam, ne enervam bunicii, eram murdari si nici ca ne pasa, nu mergeam niciodata la masa, ci apaream dupa 3 minute cu o felie mare de paine unsa cu ceva [eu preferam paine cu ulei si zahar sau cu untura si sare ], ne mai bateam intre noi, dar nu tin minte sa ne fi certat vreodata.

Si asa a crescut Ioana mare si sanatoasa si cu amintiri frumoase din copilarie

Leapsa merge mai departe la oompa, Roxa, Puck [daca nu a primit-o deja!], Katie si Fen.

Ps. In Baia Mare nu m-am jucat niciodata “in fata blocului”. Toti aia de acolo mi se pareau niste luzări si chiar nu ma puteam imagina pierzandu-mi timpul cu ei.

Se face ca eram la bunica. Si, ce sa vezi, urma sa aiba loc un concert Kumm chiar in curtea ei. Eu eram undeva in spate de tot, stateam in iarba. Langa mine s-au mai pus 3 tipe, dar multi oameni se buluceau in fata, unde baietii deja isi instalasera instrumentele. Faza ciudata era ca, inainte de concertul propriu-zis, o tipa tot prezenta formatia si vorbea p’acolo. Intre timp, tipele de langa mine imi povesteau si ele tot felul de chestii. Nu prea eram atenta la ele, dar le mai raspundeam din cand in cand.

La un moment dat vine tipa de la microfon cu niste “oameni dulap” [adica din aia mari si cu muschi, yeak!!!] si ne spune pe un ton cat se poate de ofuscat ca din cauza noastra nu poate incepe concertul, ca vorbim prea tare si suntem nesimtite, ca se pare ca nu am venit pentru concert, ci ca sa barfim, asa ca se vede nevoita sa ne scoata “afara” *ma rog, eram deja afara* de la concert, adica afara din curte. Eu m-am revoltat si i-am spus “dar kumm adica sa ma dati afara din curtea MEA?”, nu, ca ea nu stie ca aia e curtea mea si nici nu o intereseaza, ca mai bine plec fara alte comentarii, bla bla bla. Ahhh, eram asa de nervoasa!!! Mi-am infascat bluza de jos, cartea *da, aveam o carte in care ma mai uitam din cand in cand* si am iesit la poarta, sa stau macar pe banca, ca doar si de acolo se putea auzi concertul foarte bine.

Pe banca erau cei de la Kumm, iar unchiul meu povestea de zor cu ei. I-am spus ce am patit, kumm m-au scos din propria mea curte, cat de nesimtita a fost tipa etc si ca eu vreau ca la concert sa fiu in curte, nu exilata pe banca. Unchiu a lasat capul in jos, nu a spus nimic, cei de la Kumm s-au ridicat in liniste si au plecat in curte, unde peste cateva momente a inceput concertul. Cand am vrut sa intru iar, unchiul, care era postat in fata usitei, nu m-a lasat sa intru!!! Mi-a spus ca a vorbit cu cei de la Kumm si ca a fost foarte urat din partea mea ca am vorbit atata si ca nu mai pot intra la concert. In cele din urma m-a lasat sa intru in casa unde am trantit cat se poate de tare toate usile care mi-au iesit in cale, m-am dus in camera mea, mi-am pus castile pe urechi si am ascultat orice altceva in afara de Kumm.

Asa ca dimineata, in ciuda visului cat se poate de tampit, m-am trezit cu o pofta nebuna de a asculta Kumm si cu un dor de a-i vedea live cat de curand.

It seems like I’m about to rant again. I started the day by listening to Karma Police and now I’m stuck with Damage *see previous post*. And I’m really starting to hate this category - Inner demon. Why the fuck do I have such a stupid category? So I can bitch about my life? So I can tag all my melancholically/existential posts? I hate it! I should really change its name… don’t know… maybe a better one would be “it’s past midnight and Ioana is again feeling shitty”. Ah!!!!

Of course it’s about him. It’s always about him. Bloody hell!!! I can’t understand why the hell I can’t let go of him. Why do I keep thinking about him? The strange part is that I’m remembering both the good times and the bad ones. And I don’t really want him back. I just… I just want to get over him. God, I haven’t seen him since April. How does he look like? I don’t know why I’m doing this, I really don’t know. And the music is really loud as if the louder it gets, the more detached I feel. Bullshit! Why am I hurting myself like this? God, I’m stupid. And I don’t bloody care if I’m pissing you off with my sentimental issues, it’s my blog, I write about whatever crosses my mind, so don’t bloody read it if you don’t like!!!! I bloody hate everyone tonight! Now… the fact is that I don’t know why I get so upset when I think/talk about him. We didn’t have a great relationship, we didn’t date for years and years, we were far from being “the best girl/boyfriend I have ever had”, so why am I obsessing over him? I need something to pierce my head with, extract my brain and shake off all unwanted memories, put them in bag and throw it out. And I don’t want time to heal my wound or whatever it’s supposed to do - make me look back and laugh or something, I want it to go away NOW. I don’t want not to be able to listen to The world spins madly on cause “it’s our break-up song”, I don’t want to listen to Perfect spot and think about the time I sent him a message right after I’d discovered the “and I feel more than words can say” part, I don’t want to listen to Pictures of you and think about him! Fuck! I want to kick him out and slam the door shut and close the shutters and put a big sign with Nobody’s home so that the bloody memories and other inner demons won’t come back again.

I really miss B’rux. It was a pub in Baia Mare where I used to go every weekend during the 9th, 10th and 11th grade. And during the holidays I was there almost every night. I don’t miss the people I was there with, hell, they’re out of my life and I’m fine with that. But I miss having a special place. A pub where I can go every time of the day, where I know the bartender and the owner, where I know almost everyone there, where I’m a regular. I used to skip classes and go there drink hot chocolate. I used to go there after classes, drink a Coke and then the hurry back home hoping I didn’t smell of cigar smoke. I miss having my place. I can’t imagine a place like this in Bucharest, I simply can’t. You know what was great about B’rux? It was quite small. It had only 8 tables: 4 in the first room and 4 in the other one. And you could stay there all day long and not drink anything and nobody told you to leave. It wasn’t about profit and money, it was about making clients feel at home. And I felt that it was my second home. God, I miss that place. Now it’s gone. It closed down, I don’t know, maybe a year ago and the guy who actually owns the building is going to make offices there or something. And it’s crap! I just want to find a place like that here in Bucharest. Where I can sit all day and read and where nobody cares about what I’m doing; where there aren’t fancy people and the beer is cheap. I really miss the feeling that pub gave me. I was looking for pictures from B’rux, but I don’t have even a single one on my computer That’s lame.

But I found some pictures from the spring of 2005 and I can’t believe how happy I looked back there. You could see that in my eyes. I have never seen my eyes look that pretty and green. Now I don’t even notice them anymore. If this means I’m getting old, then fuck it, I wanna die young.

Not much Friday night, pinball, Lower East Side
Walked halfway past and into the bar
I used to think about you all the time
I would think about you all the time
Now it just feels weird, that there you are
The damage is done

Feeling like a kid again, my eyes are glued to the floor
I hope I mumbled goodbye as you walked out the door
The damage is done

Yo La Tengo - Damage

I’ve officially started work again. It’s amazing how much I enjoy doing this! And what’s not to enjoy sitting in bed with a cup of hot tea, a chocolate, uRMa and a translation/articles I have to correct? And when I’m not sure of a word I write it down and check it in the dictionary and then I get back to it and correct it. I know I still have a lot to learn, but I’m willing to do that. So, like Jen says, life’s good.

Mum is supposed to come this weekend here, but I don’t know when exactly she’ll arrive. Dad is going to Braila, so he doesn’t really count. I want my books back so I can rearrange my bookshelves. And I have to nag her to talk to the furniture guy to make another bookshelf cause this one is too small for all the books I have now And I can hardly wait to go shopping. I really need a colourful blanket now that it’s getting cold. I feel so very lazy if during the days I get in bed under the covers, so the blanket will keep me warm, cheer me up [cause it’s going to be colourful] and won’t make me feel lazy And I’ll have to ask her for money to pay my university courses A lot of money for crappy education, but let’s not get into that. Anyways, I can hardly wait for Mum to be here! And yes, I’m very curious to see what she has bought me from Tunisia. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I’ll get a big colourful bag Sunday and Monday I’ll be sleeping at her hotel. I know it’s crazy to sleep at the hotel when we have an apartment, but the courses she’ll be attending are somewhere near Otopeni, which is extremely far from where I live, so it was the only solution. She was a bit disappointed that we’d be in the same city but no spend time together, so I told her I would sleep with her at the hotel and she was happy again Sometimes it’s so easy to please your parents I just hope she’ll drive carefully and not as fast as she usually does

Anyways, I finally got to meet Ariella’s [the aunt who’s living with me now] boyfriend. He’s such a nice guy!!! Or at least that was my first impression. He’s kind of old-school, but I think he really cares about her and from the way I saw, he treats her right and that’s important. I’m just happy for them

The shitty part comes now. One of my father’s best friends from university is sleeping over. It would have been a real joy to have S. over let’s say, 3 years ago, but now it’s only very very sad. His wife, C., has cancer and I don’t know how long she is going to live. They’re from Pitesti and he has to bring her to Bucharest to do some tests and I don’t know what else and she’s sleeping at the hospital and he’s sleeping here. When I first met them 3 years ago I immediately liked them. They were such a happy couple, so nice people! I spent a night at their house before going to Germany. They treated me so good, we talked all night about how much fun they had when they were at university, how good friends they were with my parents, you know, it was all about good memories. And I liked them so much from the beginning and I was impressed that people my parent’s age can be so open-minded and fun to spend time with. And now… damn! I can’t believe she’s so sick, that she doesn’t have too much time It depresses me. S. looks so old, so unhappy now… It could have been my parents in their situation!!! *not that my father is healthy; he never was and never will be, but he doesn’t have an incurable disease* Situations like this really freak me out. In moments like this I realises that it doesn’t really matter what I do with my life, if I’ll be successful or not, if I’ll have a big house or I’ll be living in this apartment, if I’ll have children or not… fuck, they don’t mean a thing, they’re just crap! All that matters is to be healthy and LIVE. Yeah, in moments like this I truly realise how much I love to life, how much I love those cold rainy autumn days, the moments I fight with my parents, the break-ups, the ugly part of life; I love everything that makes me feel alive.

I wore a skirt yesterday. God, I can’t even remember when was the last time I did that. It felt good Maybe I’ll buy some more and I’ll start wearing skirts again. *not it wasn’t a short one; it was knee-length * And yesterday, as I was coming back home, I… *mutters* I saw a guy who looked exactly like Cata from behind: same hair, same height, same white Adidas shoes, same baggy pants, same, same, same… For a moment there I lost myself. I freaked out

This is enough for today. I’m going to cook something good, cause S. doesn’t live on biscuits, jam and milk. Buh-bye!

*Radiohead - Karma police

I wanted to keep this all to myself, but the good part in me took over and I have to share my little discovery with you. Kitten wear is a blog with T-shirts. And the real special thing about them is that Cristina hand paints them. You know I’m a sucker for hand-made things and this blog is exactly what I’ve been looking for. I’ve already placed my order: I’m going to have a rainbow T-shirt! Uh, I can hardly wait!!! Anyways, take a look at those beautiful T-shirts. You won’t be sorry, I promise