vineri, 19 decembrie 2008

Informatiile in Romania circula pe cale orala si de multe ori asa persista ele in folclorul romanesc. Internetul va fi de mult depasit pana va fi o cale de informare din partea institutiilor statului. Bine totusi ca oamenii sunt bine intentionati, posteaza pe forumuri (nu exista doua experiente la fel, de unde tragi concluzia ca tu o sa o ai pe a ta, so no use of reading anything). Si te dai cu capul de tot felul de "praguri", in cel mai ineficient mod, dar pana la urma rezolvi. Asta are legatura cu povestea cu functionarul public. Ca sa nu mai intru cu masina in balarii, m-am plimbat cu taxiul intre punctul A = politia rutiera din Pipera si B = primarie. Am dat dus intors 50 Lei, si am avut parte de un soculet. Omul i.e. taximetristul, isi aprinde o tigara fara sa intrebe daca ma deranjeaza, nu ca as avea curajul sa-i spun ca da. Si cand sa ma uit spre aparat sa vad cam cat am de platit vad ditamai semnul: FUMATUL INTERZIS . Altfel lucrurile au mers smooth si am nr IF-xx-PUP (dintr-o greseala de comunicare cu iubitul meu.. noi sa fim sanatosi) - am dat si bani extra pe ele, ca io le-am ales.

luni, 15 decembrie 2008

The true princess in me - the wand

Someone should change the story with the princess and the bean and call it "The princess and the toilet brush". A true princess would care for every little detail. I went two days ago with my bf to the supermarket and I was going to buy a toilet brush (it took me some time to decide because I more the sure that the other persons that live in the same room with me, and they know themselves, would use it and not clean). I get to the shelf with few "models" of brushes, it was a top one, that I could barely reach, so I call my bf to take it for me. He gets one and kind of leaves. Man, where do you thikn you're going? I don't want that one. Do you think is nicer with black and blue or black and white and green. He daaaared to say what he thought,that it was just a brush, that I didn't even want to let it somewhere so that people could see it... I wanted the blue one, no, the green one, no, the blue one, maybe the yellow???!?! No, no, the blue. And blue it was.

Breake a Leg

I was suppose to study as I have an exam tomorrow, but I couldn't help myself not sharing this. A work mate remind me of the stupid superstitions people have. It's usually available for students, if you tell them "Good luck with your exam", their answer is invariant "So be it!(Sa fie)". So, in order to pass your exam, you have to say this, no thanks, no "That would be cool" etc.. I have always passed my exams (we ain't talking about this particular year, all right?), without saying this, but I was just very lucky... Anyway, that's the most harmless superstition of all. You can choose, it actually depends on you, and it costs you nothing to give this stupid answer everytime. But when I forget things and I need to go back to the house to take them, my mother, she's like "Now you turn back from your way, that's no good sign, spit three times on the floor and jump back three step". - I ain't spitting on no f..cking floor. I actually try to believe that it is a good thing I remebered in time. That does not work a bit, I feel awful quilty and miserable every single time.

Top of the list is the CAT. Poor cat, that crosses the street, it's so much more confused that I. Probably chasing some birds, or worse, being chased. I DON'T care, it must not cross in front of me, it brings me bad luck, the worse ever, everything that happens that day it's because of the stupid animal, not because of stupid me. My main concern is if it matters if you see it crossing or not, I mean there are plenty of cats crossing the streets everyday, and one intersects their path, it's like it has just passed before you... Well, I definetly agree it still affects you, no wonder most of your days suck and stink like shit.

Functionar public

Eu si prietenul meu ne potrivim de minune (mai bine zis: nu ne potrivim de minune). Amandoi suntem dezorganizati si ametiti si cand e vorba de chestii administrative o cam dam in bara, ne adaptam greu, ne prindem si mai greu... intr-un final ne descurcam, dar ne-am dori sa functioneze lucrurile in Romania cam cum functioneaza prin Germania - acolo, desi nu stiam limba, am fost in stare sa imi fac toate actele de studii, de sedere, de viza fara sa simt ca ajug la capatul puterilor, ba din contra, mi se parea prea facil, paranoia din mine imi zicea ca sigur mai e ceva, desi functionarii imi povesteau foarte dragut ca asta e tot si sa merg linistita acasa.

Sa revenim, v-am zis ca l-am luat pe Cee'd-ulica de curand si vrem sa mergem sa il inmatriculam. Am ajuns la politie (nu era primul loc in care trebuia sa mergem, dar era "in drum" :p - si noi prosti). Pricipala noastra preocupare era sa aflam daca mai platim taxa de prima inmatriculare pentru un autoturism nou. Merg eu si intreb o tanti la un ghiseu care zice "Da' de unde sa stiu eu, eu sunt la permise, mergeti mai incolo la inmatriculari" (Mai incolo unde, femeia lui Dumnezeu? Era scris doar Ghiseul 2, Ghiseul 3, Ghiseul 4 .... pana la 17, de unde sa stiu eu care e de permise si care e de inmatriculari), imi fac curaj si merg la unu' gras(functionar din spatele ghiseului) caruia ii adresez aceasi intrebare, si ce-mi raspunde omul: "De unde sa stiu eu domnisoara ce masina ai? Nu te-ai uitat si matale la televizor?" No further comments.

vineri, 12 decembrie 2008


The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing. That sounds like me! I am full of it (wisdom)... NO, I'm just lazy and easier to think I know nothing then do something about it... Some sayings make me wonder, well plenty of them make me wonder, some just totally confuse me and they can get me out.

Vreau la baie

Se intampla sa il apuce pe om si atunci te gandesti ca poti intra intr-un restaurant, ca doar n-o sa suni la usa cuiva sa zica: "Buna ziua, sunt Cutarescu, nu ma cunosteti, dar as avea nevoie sa merg pana la baie". Nu! Asa ceva un se face si atunci te indrepti spre un local/restaurant. Da' mai bine te opresti in tufis, sau la coltul strazii, sa risti sa dea farurile de la peste tine daca e noapte si sa te inhibi, cu ocazia asta lasi si un iz de "omenie" direct pe strada, langa copacul ala exotic, care a inlocuit clasicul bradut ornamental. Ei, na de data asta nu e asa liber, circula multa lume asa ca mergi in continuare la RESTAURANT. Si acolo ce sa vezi, un semn cu un baietel si o fetita cu sageata (numai atat vezi, nici in stanga nici in dreapta, semnul ca baietelul si fetita), daca e un restaurant mai pretentios nu o sa vezi nici un semn dar intuiesti tu, poate nu intuiesti si atunci intrbi un chelner mai la-ndemana. Nu conteaza prin ce pasi ai trecut ca sa ajungi in punctul asta, cert e ca cei ce urmeaza sunt comuni: "Nu puteti merge, este doar pentru clienti". "Mai sa fie??!?! Numai pentru cei fideli?" ,te intrebi. "O sa imi iau si eu o apa cand ma intorc." "Domnul/Doamna/Domnisoara, nu aveti voie, ce ne-am face daca toata lumea de pe strada ar intra pentru asta bla bla bla" Da' ce ne-om face noi daca toata lumea ar face in fata usii?!?! EEh, uite asa pleci frustrat si "nemers" la baie si -ti juri ca nu o s apelezi niciodata la serviciile lor
Ddaca as fi de sexul celalalt, chiar m-as pironi la intrare si, discret, fara sa deranjez pe altii...

joi, 11 decembrie 2008

At the Office

Too late to apologize - related to nothing. It's so funny seeing people pleading for their cause. They are totally into it, gesticulating, bending forward, getting closer to you, emphasizing every word. It's even funnier if they do this for everything they say, each dialogue is a battle for them and they need to show heir right, they need to convince... and what usually happens, is that the other ones ceases.

marți, 9 decembrie 2008

Sleep well

I almost fall asleep, but thoughts come to my mind and my imagination builds it's own fairytale (it's probably from the pineapple that I have such nice images when going to bed), I turn on the other side, make my pillow more comfortable and continue my dream... "A very young girl is hired as a baby sitter in a wealthy family... the kid is sweet, as he grows up, when he feels alone or gets scared of the dark goes and sleep in her room, in her bed... time flies and he lefts the place for studying, she goes on with her life and they meet again over years and they figure that they are madly in love with each other, especially the boy. But they don't let the other know - for me there where some erotic moments at a point, nothing worthy to be mentioned" (ok, the boy was 3 and she was 13 when the girls was hired, I convinced my brain that the relation was decent and it could go further with the details, otherwise it would have changed the subject - it does that). Bullshiting me with this charming story, I thought that would be something interesting to write down, course, maybe no one will ever read, but at least I have the chance to remember it. Thou believing I should put that down, I hadn't the slightest intention to get out of bed to do it (tomorrow I have to wake up at 6:00 anyway and it's 00:00 already). "Naughty girl, do you think that the great writers of the world didn't feel like getting out of bed when being inspired and waited until morning to, or whenever they had some time to share their stuff?" "I'm no f..cking writer"; "You're not, but you always do this: think that would be a good thing to do and postpone it for some other time, when you're less busy. STOP FULLIN' YOURSELF, YOU NEEEEEEVEEEEER HAVE TIME, NEVER EVER, EVER." Can you believe that this was not the thing that make me decide to invest the effort of getting up and turn on the laptop. No, not even that was strong enough. I just answered to myself.. ok, ok, but as a child I made up even more interesting stories and imagine things and ask question and talked to myself, and not even once had I thought to write a book about it, to share it with others, to write it down not to forget them, to feel guilty that I did none of these... and yet, was I sleeping so good, so deep, so happy with my own world - too worthy to be shared, too beautiful to be known.. Why would anyone care now, why would I care - all my kingdom for a horse, all my life for a inocent life!

vineri, 5 decembrie 2008


Ajungi in aeroport si ai zbor spre Romania, ca,deh, acolo locuiesti si trebuie sa te-ntorci acasa, treaba ta de ce te intorci, nu-mi pasa. Nu-mi pasa nici ca lucrezi in Irlanda in constructii, nici ca ai fost in vizita la un frate, nici ca ti-ai petrecut concediul pe o insula exotica si nici ca ai fost in interes de serviciu. De ce o fi avand lumea impresia ca daca nu am chef in tara sa vorbesc cu romanii (necunoscuti), as avea afara, in aeroport. Tot la fel de multi sunt si acolo, ca si cum as sta in statie la Universitate. Dar la Universitate ma mai intreba cate unul pe unde se intra la Geografie sau ce sa ia pana la Spitalul Universitar, dar dupa aia ma lasa-n plata domnului (si eu pe el). Nu mi s-a intamplat sa imi zica:
"Hi" - I had to answer.
"How are you, I saw you on Monday, we had the same flight, what are you doing here"
"Some stuff for the company."
"AAA, me too. Where are you from?"
"Atunci vorbim aceeasi limba."
TANANANA... ai vaz't?!?!? am anticipat momentul, dar degeaba, ca tot ca un par in cap l-am simtit. (BAAAAI, care e probabilitatea sa vorbim aceeasi limba cand m-ai vazut de doua ori intr-un zbor care implica Bucurestiul. Si ce daca vorbim aceeasi limba, e asta un motiv sa ma deranjezi?) . Tot nu inteleg cum vine asta... daca omul asta m-ar vedea in statie la Romana(de doua ori - si la dus si la intors), n-ar veni sa ma intrebe ce-am facut intre timp si asa sa ne dam noi seama ca dezvoltam in acelasi limbaj de programare.
Saracul baiat, intentiile lui au fost mai mult decat bune si, recunosc ca am avut cu el o conversatie mult peste medie, placuta si interesanta, dar mi-a facut sa imi amitesc ce urasc eu treaba asta cu romanii peste granita. Adica in padurea ecuatoriala, ratacita printre liane (sunt liane acolo sau in alta parte?) vad un om... uuu... vorbeste... uuuuu... vorbeste romaneste... asta da surpriza, da' asa?!?!.. nu e decat un scenariu de prost gust, care se repeta constant si care nu face decat sa imi frece nervii.
Nu cred ca e vorba ca oamenii se simt singuri sau neintelesi si au nevoie sa comunice cu cineva in limba lor , nici vorba, de cele mai multe ori vor sa iti zica ei ce au vizitat, ca s-au dat cu avionul (ca tu nu te-ai dat, ai trecut de vama dand spaga, si stai si tu acolo la zborul de Milano... poate, poate), asa... ca ce minunatii au gazdele lor in casa (gazde care pot fi copii, nepoti, frati, dupa caz, baba la care lucreaza), si strainii astia cum sunt, ca ei nu au perdele, au draperii usoare, la ei nu se incuie usa noaptea si nici nu pun ulei de floarea soarelui in salata, pun de masline ... romanii mai au mult pana sa fie asa civilizati (- my thought exactly - tanti in cauza are cel mai mult, din punctul meu de vedere). Dar sa-ti spuna el cum stau lucrurile in Germania, ca are el un frate care lucreaza la un service acolo (undeva la Cucuietii din deal - die Beule Berg cum ar zice neamtul) si nemtii astia asa fac si-asa dreg. Nu pot sa ma abtin sa nu fiu subiectiva: cum pana mea sa nu te umpli de spume cand ii zici ca si tu stii cate ceva ca ai stat pe-acolo si el iti raspunde ca stie el mai bine de la frate-sau, doar pentru ca-i mai in varsta si mai prost tre' sa-l lasi sa se abereze?
Mai e unii care se chinuie sa iti arunce cuvinte in toate limbile sa vada la care reactionezi (I suppose this is for girls only). Bravo , bravo, de trei ori bravo ca stii 1ooo de cuvine in 4 limbi (sper ca majoritatea in romana, macar sa-ti acoperi strictul cu vocabularul asta).
Concluzia e ca "people want to show off". Nu stiu daca reusesc ei acolo intre ei sa se impresioneze, dar, sincer, eu lupt pana-n panzele albe si in romaneste nu vorbesc pana nu imi iau bagajele la sosire si trec de porti. Si de aia citesc doar carti in alte limbi in avion. O sa imi dezvolt o intreaga strategie, ca nu prea scap asa usor.
Dar la ultimul zbor am fost mai mult decat mangaiata (si la propriu, si la figurat) si am fost in stare sa infrunt orice neplacere: in punctul in care trebuiau verificate bagajele de mana, a piuit aparatul ca aveam ceva metalic asupra mea (erau doar shoshonii mei ciudati, care au niste tinte, ciudate, evident), dar tipa de acolo m-a pipait de mi s-a ridicat parul de pe corp de placere - nu spun decat ca a insistant in talie, ajungand si la lenjeria intima (down side). Altfel zbori (si la propriu, si la figurat) dupa asa o experienta, data viitoare imi iau iar opincile cu tinte si nu pot decat sa sper ca o sa fie cel putin la fel de tanara si draguta si nu o sa ma puna sa ma descalt, cum s-a intamplat la dus (ce-am povestit era la intors - cu aceeasi papuci :P). E cu dus si-ntors, ati inteles voi...