I love small things. I can collect them, store them, pile them, hide them. If I had a big thing I wouldn’t know what to do with it.

One year of silence was simply erased from our minds after 5 minutes of conversation. Too bad it was only a dream.

Four months of acting stupid will hopefully be forgotten after a beer and a talk. Thank you

This is going to be a great day, I just know it!

I love it when he calls me darling. It’s so Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

I took her to the vet today for her annual shot and the doctor said she’s in good health. Me iz happy!

Anyways, after we came back home she went in the living room and I went to my room. When I checked on her she was playing with something I thought was her toy-mouse. What do you want, I didn’t have my glasses on, so I just saw her playing with a gray thingie.

Went I went to the kitchen I saw feathers on the carpet in the living room. A lot, I may say.

She even choked on one before I gathered them all. So let’s see the facts: I saw the cat playing with something, now I find feathers scattered around. OK, where’s the bird and what did you do with her, bitch? I looked around but no bird. Still, I was puzzled.

Finally, Dad came home and I heard him calling me. He was in the living room, holding a bird in his hand! He had found it on the windowsill and thankfully, the birdie wasn’t harmed. We let it out and it flew away quite fast.

Of course, the Bitch isn’t disturbed about what happened and didn’t want to apologize to the bird. But she got a scolding from me: bird are friends, not food!

I used to clean my glasses every day. Rub, polish and make the lenses shine. I wanted to see the world as it was, to see colours and smiling people. But I couldn’t find them anywhere, no matter where I looked. Now my glasses are all smeared. There’s nothing beautiful out there to make me clean my glasses again.

I swear it’s the last time I’m spending more than 10 days in this fucked up town. I HATE IT HERE!!! I don’t feel like doing anything here: eating, smiling, reading. Nothing! This place drains me of all my positive energy. And spending this much time with parents is no fun either: we piss each other off constantly. It’s all a waste of energy and it’s driving me crazy!!! We were supposed to go back this Friday, but Mum won’t finish her work till then and we’re going only on Sunday! I will literally go INSANE here! I wanna go back to MY home, to MY stuff, to MYself. This is torture!

I love night walks. And I love to walk barefoot. And I love even more walking barefoot at night. And yes, that was a proper dress I was wearing.

I went second-hand shopping today and I bought a beautiful, orange *too big for me* The Doors T-shirt. The funny part comes now. Check out the label:

Se pare ca vara este anotimpul protestelor legate de Bucuresti. Anul trecut, cititorii s-au strans in fata la TVR ca sa arate ca “Lumea citeste”, anul asta ne solidarizam ca sa incercam sa oprim demolarea pasajului Victoria.

Zaza a inceput campania pe bloguri si tot la ea gasiti cu lux de amanunte care e treaba cu pasajul. Dar pe scurt: la ce bun un pasaj vechi si frumos, cand il poti demola si ridica un bloc nou si urat? Vorba lui luciat, Bucurestiul s-a transformat din micul Paris in micul Beirut.

Bucurestiul este atat de plin de blocuri, ca e de-a dreptul sufocant. Dar nu conteaza, demolam ‘vechiturile’ si construim alte si alte blocuri, ca deh, ce atata boemie, frate? Terase si locuri linistite - astea-s mofturi, bai! Baga acolo un bloc, un hotel, un cazino, ceva, ca alea macar aduc bani. Pai, nu? NU!

Asa ca mergeti frumos AICI si AICI, dati copy+paste la petitiile respective si trimiteti-le Primariei.

Un pic de spirit civic, va rog!

This was the 4th day in a row I spent inside the apartment. I think it’s a personal record. My father bought stuff for me, so there was no need to go even to the shop outside the building. And my mood wasn’t that great to go out with somebody, so I stayed indoors.

But Mum had a tough day today and she wanted to go for a walk to relax a bit so I went with her. We had lemonade and talked for about 2h. I don’t like the fact that she’s worrying about me and what will I become and all the rest. It’s enough that she has her problems to think about. I’m aware that it’s something that parents do, but still…

And another thing that bothered me was that I couldn’t tell her everything. I couldn’t tell her about the butterflies and the long-distance thingie, cause she’s not prepared to hear about it yet. She’ll just worry more. First I, we, have to be convinced that it’s going to work before telling her. And I couldn’t tell her how much I hate school and that I can hardly wait to get that over with. And I couldn’t tell her that I found a blog and I was depressed the next days, cause that girl is having the life I’ve always dreamed of and the life I’ll never have.

Anyways, on a happier note, when I went to pay for the lemonade, I asked the guy at the bar how they do it, cause it’s really good and I’d tried making it at home, but it wasn’t the same. He just smiled and poured me and Mum another two glasses of lemonade, on the house