Da, din nou, pentru a 9-a oara anul asta Stiu, sunt obsedata. De data asta o iau si pe mama cu mine Deci: Kumm, deseara, de la 22, in Laptarie

I’m living in a crazy world. Guess who sent me a mail today? Alex! I haven’t heard from him for months and months and now I got a mail from him. The freaky part is that I can’t really make out what he actually wanted. He wasn’t the type of person who had existential problems, who philosophised, who thought about human nature and other deep stuff, and now, I’m reading his mail and I’m like “what the fuck? Who are you and what did you do to the Alex I knew?” Apart from all that babbling that I really don’t understand, he wants me to put aside my feelings for him, not to thing about the past and to be friends Yeeeaaah right! I don’t want this to sound bitchy or mean, but I can’t be friends with him. Even a mail from him makes me feel awkward, imagine what “being friends” would make me feel like.

And, fuck, it’s not that I care , or I still have feelings for him, or want him, but… aaah, there’s still something there, something I’ve been trying to get rid of in the last… hmmm… 6 years. My heart still stops beating when I see him in his car, or when I just see the car parked in front of a pub in Baia Mare. I still smile when I think about us and how very young and stupid we were, but that doesn’t mean I can have a normal conversation with him, that I can send him e-mails like nothing ever happened. And I’m not mad at him.

All in all, the e-mail he sent was ok, he was trying to be nice to me, but I can’t, I simply can’t be myself around him. Yes, I’ll say hi when I see him, I’ll make small-talk if I am forced to, but nothing more. For me, it’s better this way. God, I’m almost angry at him for suggesting such a stupid thing! Sorry, dude, it’s not you, it’s me.

Ps. Why the heck did I rename the Inner demon category? I really needed it now…

9:30. The alarm clocks starts buzzing. I press the snooze button and go back to sleep. 10 minutes later I still don’t feel like getting out of the bed; I sleep some more. Finally, at 9:55 I find the power to drag myself to the bathroom and take a shower. I look in the mirror: uuuh, not quite my day today. I make myself a cup of black tea - two spoonfuls of sugar and milk, please - and eat my breakfast: a Milka.

I start going over my courses once more: simple finite sentences, the projection principle, internal/external arguments, theta role, lexical categories, the copula BE, exclusively modifying adjectives, unergative verbs, the resultative construction - what’s all this shit? I realise I’m not at all prepared for today’s exam, but I try to remain calm, pour myself another coup of tea and eat some more chocolate.

I read some blogs, listen to Thievery Corporation, play with uRMa, spend more than half an hour deciding what to wear, go to and fro between my room and the kitchen, wash the dishes, I do anything possible not to think about the exam. It’s like I don’t know how to study anymore; like I don’t have the patience to understand and memorise all the useless information they give us; when I’m not lazy, I’m too agitated; when I finally get in the right mood to just sit and study, I’m hungry - yes, I’m a bad student.

2 more minutes and I’m out of here. Better go brush my teeth and get read. I loathe exams especially when they make me feel this nervous and anxious.

This is the fourth November in a row I’ve been watching this movie. I fell in love with Sarah all over again: with her optimism, her hippie clothes, her smile, her apartment, her bohemian attitude. And it’s the fourth November in a row I’ve been crying my eyes out while watching it

Spring brings the rain,
With winter comes pain,
Every season has an end.

The Greenhornes and Holly Golightly - There is an end

Pictures for Vio

Uuu, a Mac!

Nice and cosy

I was reading a book the other day - by a woman - and at some point she said something like -I haven’t got it here so I can’t quote it exactly - something like every relationship contains within it the ghosts, or the shadows, of all the other relationships it isn’t. All the abandoned alternatives, the forgotten choices, the lives you could have led but didn’t and haven’t. I found this thought enormously consoling because it was true, and at the same time enormously upsetting.

Julian Barnes - Love etc.

UPDATE: Phone conversation with Mum:

- Muuuum, I want to dye my hair orange…
- Yes, ok.
- WHAT?! Mum, I’m talking about a major change here! I want it to be orange-orange!
- Yes, I don’t have anything against it, but…
- But what?
- You have to get rid of the beads and comb you hair first.

I knew it!!!!!

***

I want to dye my hair orange, just like the girl’s in the picture below:

via Hel-looks

I know I e-mailed this picture to Mum and told her what I wanted to do, but I don’t think she thought I was serious about. Well, now I am. The only problem is that she’ll want me to comb my hair, get rid of the bead and strings and I don’t want that [Can’t I just dye my hair with them on?]

And I don’t want to think about what if I won’t like it and stuff… I just need a change.

I can’t believe the blog is working again! It’s one thing not to blog when I don’t feel like it/want to, but it’s simply annoying and frustrating not to be able to blog because the server is broken. Anyways, I’m back online.

In the meantime, I talked to Mum and we got over our very ugly fight and now we’re acting like nothing happened, but it still feels a bit funny; it was the first time we were mad at each other for almost 2 weeks She’s coming to Bucharest next week and we’ll talk face to face and everything will be fine until the next fight

I had another crazy weekend: Roxa and Puck came over. Roxa and I went to the Kumm concert on Friday and Alex saved the night by driving us back home - thanks a lot, dude! and then on Saturday we went to the book fair. We stayed there for 7h and I bought a lot of books - 10 or 11, can’t remember exactly, met some of my favourite Romanian writers, met many blogger and all in all, it was great!!! Nothing compares with a day spent at a book fair: there are so many books, so many readers, book releases, writers, promotions, it’s paradise for bookaholics!

Then on Saturday night some blog-friends came over for a glass of wine - it was so nice meeting you Bea, Romi and Selma, big, big hug! - and we talked and laughed and ate cake - Puck, next time you’re back here, do bring some more of that cake . I sometimes ponder about this blog thing and about the relationships I have with people met on the blog and on one hand it seems freaky talking and feeling so good with people I’ve met on the Internet but on the other hand, how else can I make new friends? Anyway, I like them and that’s that

Now, after the book fair, I’m on like very low-budget and I have no bread, no water, no chocolate, no oranges, no nothing. French fries ftw!!! Of course Mum is a bit pissed off about this, but she’s getting used to the idea that I’m an obsessive-compulsive book-buyer and there’s nothing she can do about it Yeah, I’m pretty proud of my obsessions.

Tomorrow I have to go to the publishing house and give the text I corrected. Hope everything will be fine and I’ll get the job, though there’s one more problem: Mum told me she won’t let me work if they don’t give me to opportunity to take days off during my holidays so I can go to Baia Mare. I’m a bit scared because I don’t exactly know how to bring up the subject with my hopefully future employer, so keep your fingers crossed for me, ok?

It’s back to work with me.

Ps. I simply hate people who still insist after I’ve told them a million times NO!
Pps. I hate it when somebody wants to buy me a drink/something to eat/anything when they know I don’t have money. It’s my fault that I’m penniless and I don’t need anyone’s help/pity.

… vineri, la Clubul Taranului Roman, de la 22:00. Nu as rata concertul pentru nimic in lume!

S-a tuns. Scurt. Foarte scurt. Scurt de tot.
Am ras cand am vazut poza. Mult. Foarte mult. Am ras cu lacrimi.
Apoi m-am intristat. Tare. Foarte tare. Cand am ramas singura in camera am plans.
Acum mi-e dor de el. Mult. Al naibii de mult. Mai mult ca niciodata.
Si nu am ce face decat sa astept sa-mi treaca. De tot.

I feel better, I feel better now you’ve gone.
I got better, I got better, I got strong.

Pe naiba!