Kat's whiskers or life as the honourable KC tends to see

Day of Grace 9.11.2010

2010-11-09T22:31:00.000+01:00

1. 6 continuous hours of solid sleep last night. SIX HOURS. I woke up just because I am not used to sleeping that much in one go anymore. But I woke up rested. Anyway, a very nice gift from the baby.

2. Quince season. I love quinces, bright yellow, sweet, crunchy, amazingly smelling of autumn. Yum.

3. Warm autumn days. Sunny, crispy days are great. Walking during such a day even greater. Pushing the pram with the sleeping baby inside on such a day - the greatest.

4. The feeling that everything is finally right with the world. Nice weather, happy family, wonderful roly-poly baby, nothing to worry about in the future. I daydreamt about this all my life and now I am living the dream.

5. Light-hearted, optimistic books that are easy to read. They go terrific with the 'everything is right with the world' feeling.

Day of Grace 1.11.2010

2010-11-01T20:43:00.001+01:00

This ain't my idea. I saw it somewhere. I like it, so I will use it.

The idea is that you find 5 things to be grateful for in a day.

Here are mine for today.

1. My son slept last night for a stretch of time longer than one hour. He had some rough nights last week, and we along him. And it is slowly getting better, I hope. I hear about babies sleeping 5, 6 hours, some even 8, or 10 hours. I was so sure we were heading that way soon, since he slept in 4 hours stretches since we came home. After last week, I threw my certainties out the window. So, almost 3 consecutive hours of sleep? So grateful, baby!

2. Burnt wood smell that makes a crispy November day feel like winter. I love this kind of days.

3. Christmas is getting near. First Christmas with baby! YAY!

4. Books that you can't put down. And which make your mind think new thoughts. I like that.

5. Grilled cheese sarnie. Yummy!

Aaaaand... I am back

2010-11-01T19:39:00.000+01:00

It only takes a bit of flattery (and not even that much, indeed just a tiny leeettle beeet) to bring me back from my year of silence. I was thinking about getting back, to be honest. I am thinking of changing a bit the format. I just need the time. And for the moment I have little time for other things.

My time now belongs to my son. My 12 weeks old son. It feels surreal to even think this. My sweet, blond, blue eyed, long fingered, long awaited and wished for son. I hold him, I watch him sleeping, and I can't believe I am his mummy. I am not the first to say this as a parent, but it is incredible that my husband and I created such perfect little being...

Victor changed me, changed us, changed how we view the world, how we think and react. Therefore it is understandable (even overstandable) that most of the posts here will be focused on that. I will try to tinker a bit with the format to make it easier to navigate around here.

Giving it another try...

Excuses, excuses...

2009-12-18T11:29:00.000+01:00

I read a rather disturbing piece of "article" in the Times. It is called "Christmas romance confessions". Three of them are nice love stories. Two of them are just stories of affairs between remorseless married people.

And this is what I find disturbing. The fact that someone at Times, whom I thought better of, included the sleazy affairs among Christmas romances, when in fact they have nothing to do with neither Christmas nor romance.

Cheating has nothing to do with romance. If one is married but feels attracted to some other person and wants to act upon it, than fairness should lead to dissolution of that marriage. It does not matter how "complicated things are right now". Things are easy enough - you want to go hump someone else, do it outside the marriage vows. But, of course, this almost never happens. The cheaters go ahead and chase whomever they fancy, the cheated stay at home and do not suspect anything. Until it is too late, and the damage is done. And then the cheaters go say something along the lines of "I did not mean to hurt you, it just happened, it did not mean anything, blah-blah".

This is WRONG. I do not care about the religious views and punishments on the subject, or social codes, whatever. It is not FAIR towards the person who remains faithful. That person hurts the most. That person does nothing wrong, keeps the vows taken, and stays true, and is hit in the head from behind. And it is not the head that gets broken, but the heart. And a broken heart is hard to mend.

I hate cheaters. I despise the excuses they give for their cheating. Regardless of the road that took them to that point in their life, cheating is not a way out of sorrow.

Things may be very complicated. But cheating is never a solution. The cheaters have all the "fun" and the cheated take all the heartache. Completely unfair!

And The Times is no better than the Daily Whatever in publishing such garbage. But I should have known better, since the piece with "I slept with my brother and have no regrets about it" stayed for almost one year on the middle column with recommendations in the Life and Style section. Gosh!

And no, I am not cheated upon, nor do I cheat (obviously, considering the righteous tone of this post). I know people who were. Sadly, I also know people who cheated.

Love is so rare these days... True love, with true commitment. This is why I always get teary when listening to this:

Rare day

2009-12-07T11:31:00.001+01:00

I have a very ambiguous relationship with patriotism and my country.

I am bugged when people discriminate Romanians just because they come from 'a chip off the old Soviet block, used to get up early in the morning singing patriotic songs and peppy reporting of false improvements'. Pardon my French, but up yours, orright?

I am equally bugged when Romanians consider themselves as the perpetual victims of history. History is what you make of it, but if you just let it happen, you have no one but yourself to blame.

I am known to speak not exactly kindly of my country. There are many, many flaws and it really breaks my heart to see good things go uselessly to waste.

Nevertheless, there were three occasions when I was proud of my country. I am not referring to sporting events or such. There were three times when the elections were not won by the PSD. First time, I, along with many others, naively thought that things will change. Nothing changed. The second time, cautious after the first major disappointment, we voted for change again and got it. Things changed some, but not always for better. Now, yesterday, it was the third time we voted for change and the third time we won - marginally (50.37%), but we did win.

I am strangely proud. Proud that against the media manipulations of the last years, blatant and shameless and obvious, history got to repeat itself. Last time the exit polls were ordered to show a different winner, and the victory speeches were embarrassingly loud and brash from the party that proved to be on the losing side.

I was afraid yesterday, watching the national television, that this time the horrific pictures could be true. Today I am glad that social-democrats, liberals and the other morons, plus the moguls behind them, get to choke back on their words.

It is a bid sad that the people actually living in Romania get to be so easy to be fooled around. There was a documentary on Arte that is refreshingly unpointing fingers at anyone. Although I suspect whom the maker voted with. But still, one very sad conclusion is that the most lucid of them all appears to be Dan Diaconescu, the guy who invented OTV, a controversial and very looked-down upon TV channel. He says that people who live there are numb, manipulated by the media, because in Romania, TV is everything (oh, so very true!), and that those who get disappointed, they emigrate. No fancy words, no nifty sketches, no chest pounding. Sad.

Another sad thing is that almost 50% of Romanian voted for someone whom they call 'the village idiot'. And the diaspora vote was needed to tip down the scales.

I know those who disagree with me think that I am petty being so 'involved' in politics. Being on the winning side here, I can agree to disagree.

It is not that I am bursting with pride. I do not think that things will be radically different from now on. I do not believe that the current president is Prince Charming on a white horse who is going to fix everything. But I am glad that he has the chance to at least try to make things a bit different. And I have to admit that getting to see the looting bunch from PSD and the rest making fools of themselves does make my day.

On this note, I may add that more good news are more than welcome!

End is near

2009-12-05T20:33:00.000+01:00

I can't believe that is it December all over again.

Even though during this year I had the impression that time has passed slowly and rather difficultly for me, still, I am surprised to see that the year itself has passed without me really being aware of it.

This is one year that I will not regret to see it leave. Too many bad 'firsts'. To few good 'beginnings'. No real follow through. Good riddance, 2009.

Sometimes new is good

2009-11-03T17:22:00.002+01:00

I fight constantly the impression that, as far as music is concerned, pretty much has been said and done. I recognise too often in songs played on the radio musical phrases that are reused (not to say stolen) in more pathetic ways than one.

I embrace the novelty in this respect, but at the same time I am wary of new kids trying to make it big in the evil, huge world. Their rage and hunger to be heard is nothing new after all. It's all just history repeating.

I need time to break my barriers and give in to the new. The good new.

Holding out makes only for a better reward.

I went to get hubs a CD he wanted but could not make up his mind when he saw it. He is very excited to have discovered some new bands and to have some older bands release new albums (which are not completely crappy).

Being there, quite early in the morning, not too many people around to get on my nerves, I set to track new bands I meant to listen to 'sometime'.

I left not with one, but with no less than six CD-s.

I am determined to go back for more Mando Diao albums, I only got two of them, apparently the best of them, and I can't believe I let myself be blind to their music because I did not like their name. I still don't, can't exactly put my finger on it why, but their music totally makes up for the silly name. It's been so long since I found an album that I liked from the first to the last track! Give Me Fire is that kind of album.

Next find is King of Leons. I have to admit I only set out to listen to their samples because I think their Sex on Fire is one of the most brilliantly haunting songs I have heard in a while. I am not all that won over by their other works, I keep considering it as a work up to this song, which obviously deserves all the hype it's got so far. But I am willing to give them their time and work their magic on me.

And finally I gave in and got The Killers' Hot Fuss.

It's good to know that there is still something to be said which is worth listening to. And I just love books and music that give me that very selfish feeling that I am the sole intended audience the author/s had in mind, that make me feel that they were written just for me, and that I am the only one who can really truly appreciate that particular piece of work as it really should.

On another line of thinking - blogger and its features amount to a handsome pile of utter rubbish! Wish there were really some other options out there. But sadly, there are not. They are all pretty much the same. Whatev'...

The day after the weekend

2009-10-19T13:41:00.000+02:00

I still have one more day to prepare my speech for the Jehovah's witnesses ladies.

But what I wanted to write about today is still related to religion.

Long story short - I came to be owner of a very large icon which sadly has no place in my home. I thought of going to the church and giving it away to someone who might appreciate it better. Which I did. I got sidetracked (as I usually do) and instead of giving it to an older and rather poorer lady, the icon ended up in the hands of a horrendous lady whose daughter is both a dentist and a princess (I kid you not, I have her business card, which reads First Name - PRINZESSIN - Last Name, the last name having a posh sound about it), and she wanted to thank me by getting me to be her dentist daughter's client. I managed to dodge that one quite swiftly (that is only because I was completely unaware of her intention), but when she asked for my phone number, I could find no reason to refuse her. So I gave it to her.

As you may suspect, the hag called me. She interrogated me for some ten minutes.

Here I must explain something to you: I am getting more and more like my grannie every day. If you ask my grandmother a question, she feels compelled to provide you with practically every little detail she can think of related to the subject matter. For example, the phone rings and someone asks to talk to my dad. Instead of saying simply 'He is not at home', my gran starts giving full details about his daily routine, his job, his office, the car he drives and when he actually left that morning, blah, blah. You get the picture. I used to get pissed when she would give me away on certain occasions, but mostly I was very amused by this habit of hers. Now, I find myself being more and more like her! Count on me to share most unusal and often inappropriate details, the difference between me and gran being only that I have to be asked for such details, I (for the moment) do not offer them unprompted for.

So, coming back to the hag. She first mistook me for my mother, because I only said 'Alo?' - it is what is most often said in Romania and I consider it quite appropriate to continue to do so. Obviously, since I said 'alo', I had to be my mother. Then she proceeded to ask me about the icon, not without first telling me the current whereabouts of said icon, if you must know it is located in the 'children's room', she had three grandsons and they come sometimes and sleep over and there it where the icon hangs now. So, what she wanted to know was a) when it was given the holy rite by the priest (says so on the back); b) where (still on the back, really, just take a look); c) how long have I had it for (sorry, WHA'??).

Then she wanted to know (stream of conscience following) how long have we been here in Germany, have we been to the church before, 'cause the priest there does not know us, she asked him if he gave the holy rites to the icon, he said no (I wonder if it was before asking him if he knew us...), he gave such rites to some icons before, but those were sold for the benefit of an orphans' shelter in Romania, don't we go to church (you might think we met at the pub), that was her first time she went to the church after two months spent back in Romania (I SO wanted to know that, it was vital for my well being), where did we come from, do I have a job, why not, what is my profession, don't I want to get a job (she was not interested in offering me tips to get a job, no, she was just curious to know if I like being a lousy Hausfrau or if I intend to finally work for a living)... And THIS is where I finally caught a brake and said good bye.

Typical old nosey parker behaviour!

I resisted bravely to giving away to many details and I am very impressed by myself. It was also helpful to have some ten little bells ringing viciously in my head at each of her questions and I think it has something to do with her, she was the one who got the bells ringing, she is the busybody pushing all buttons at once.

But this got me thinking - why, oh, why do older ladies have such an effect on me? I feel like a 6 year old all over again! They inspire me the same disgruntled respect and need to tell the truth when asked, but only when I think it is what they want to hear. Sheesh...

Aaanywho. The shops started hanging Christmas decorations two weeks ago. We had the first snow last week. I guess next week it's time for ol' Christmas radio to start playing again. But the iTunes are conspiring against it. Have no fear, I will find a way.

And for the musical end, I leave you with a newly discovered band HURT and their heartfelt 'World Ain't Right'.

Tuesday the 13th

2009-10-13T20:12:00.004+02:00

Tuesday are not particularly lucky, at least in the Romanian culture. They hold 3 unlucky hours, they say.

13th day of the month is also not that bright in the luck department.

Together they are certainly not auspicious, not for me, not this time of the year.

And most certainly, not for the ladies from the Jehovah's witnesses, who came and did not find me.

Have no fear, they will come back next week.

Tolerance continued

2009-10-11T11:17:00.003+02:00

Finding some quiet time after a lot of shoving furniture around the living room, I get to share with my blog the fact that the ladies from Jehovah's witnesses came back last Tuesday. Apparently, Tuesday is the day of the week they spend in my neighbourhood and I get to answer the door at 3 in the afternoon - in case anyone missed it the first time, I enjoy quiet afternoons.

This time they left me the program with all the bible themes that are to be discussed each Sunday until the end of the year. And a booklet with the main topics from the Bible that people are interested in and do not have the time or drive to actually look up in the Bible. I will spare the virtual reader and myself the pain of skimming through it.

This Tuesday they promised to come again. I am at a loss. Do I really seem to be so welcoming, when all this time I thought of myself as a proper hag repelling unwanted people to bother me a second time? I do have to reconsider my attitude.

The pretext is to come pick up the booklet.

I need to find the proper argument for them to abandon all hope of converting me. Or at least of getting me to join their cult or whatever. And most importantly, I want my quiet Tuesdays back. Even the thought of them coming over is troubling.

I understand that this is what 'missionaries' do, try to make people see their truth, against said people's will, but really, in this modern times, the idea of missionary is out of place for me. With a modicum of interest, you can find out anything you want to know about practically everything that you had no idea about. One of the blessings of internet. The counterpart is that anyone is virtually a doctor in anything nowadays, with a degree from the Google Academy of Higher Truth and Knowledge. Digressing, again...

The above mentioned shoving around of furniture is needed in the eve of the arrival of the new, proper, grown-up furniture that is to confirm our grown-up status. It is also good for the morale, keeps things fresh, and I can't wait for the furniture to finally come home and organize the books as I have always wanted to.

Until then, I HAVE to come up with a forceful yet polite line to serve the ladies up on Tuesday, so that they quit visiting me. I suspect I am pretty pathetic, being afraid, well, not afraid, but inconvenienced by two Jehovah's witnesses ladies. Such a push-over...

Tolerance or how I got the opportunity to have the questions on life answered

2009-09-30T10:10:00.012+02:00

Tolerance is a word very much used nowadays. As it is usually easily done, people get to overuse it, accelerating the natural process of changing the meaning of a word. Think of 'ambition' or 'selfishness', they used to have negative connotations, now not so much, at least as far as ambition is concerned.

I thought of myself as pretty tolerant, and took pride in being so. But I have discovered yesterday (yet again) that theory and practice are two rather separate things.

Midday, after lunch time, a time I consider very much inappropriate to call on someone, especially if you do not know them, two ladies rang at my door. One was in her 50s, the other in her 60s, closer to 70s. They greeted me in Romanian, not quite what anyone might expect in Munich, I would think, which naturally left me speechless for 2 seconds. What did they want? To invite me to a Bible study at the Jehovah's witnesses church.

I must admit I found the invitation a bit odd, but since we shared the nationality, I told myself to be a bit more tolerant this time and indulge them for a while. I am not a religious person, I do not regularly go to church, but that does not mean I am inclined to trade my not going to my church for not going to another. What follows in italics are the thoughts that sadly I did not share with the ladies.

Seeing that I am awkwardly not knowing how to handle the situation, the younger lady thought it wise to ask me if I am 'worried about the current state of affairs in the world'. Riiiight, because this is a topic to be discussed while standing in the doorway.

'Well, it is a difficult question, certainly there are things that I am not happy about, but then life is so in general and has been since the begining of times, I think, isn't it so?'

I had to answer. I always do that. I have to answer most questions are asked in my presence, even if I am not directly asked.

I realised that I could have answered 'dibbly-doo-bup' and the reaction would have been the same. It does not really matter what you answer, it is the engaging into the discussion that they are after. No, strike that, not discussion, but monologue.

'And the terrorism, and the hunger, and the unemployment... You see, we have a Bible study group, and we are all Romanian, and we would like you to join us and study the Bible together. Because all answers to life are in there, in this Big Book.'

Hmmm, really? For me it only means that the Big Book is vague enough on certain subjects that the answer can be interpreted in various ways and leaves room for all opinions. I am not being blasphemous here, I do think it is the Big Book, but you are not hooking me up with THAT line, lady.

'We left you a brochure with six very important questions in life that people ask, and in there there are the answers to these questions. We left it last year. I am sure you got it. Do you still have it?'

I am sorry, am I being held accountable here for not storing religious propaganda leaflets that clog my mail box?

'I might have had such a leaflet in my mail box, but I must admit I did not read it thoroughly.' Which is true, I did read some of it, because it was in Romanian and it was weird to find it and wanted to know what it was about.

'We can give you another one, I have one more to spare.'

Oh, goody!

'Would you like to read out loud the answer to what is happiness from the Bible?'

'Erm... not really.' Not even for myself, so out loud in the hallway of my block of flats is definitely out of the question.

'But we are Romanians. And we need to stick together. And we can find answers together.' Precisely, flog the old national horse, dear, because this is the way to my heart.

'Look, lady, both my husband and I are orthodox. We may not go to church on a regular basis, but we are NOT considering any change of religious faith. Not now, not ever. So, while I may not dare tell you straight up 'Go on your away and may God bless you', I am telling you that I will think about your little reunion, as an intellectual exercise, but I do not promise anything. May God bless you, my dear ladies.'

The older lady was rather crossed. How can anyone pass up the most important moment of their life to have the questions of life answered? I must be a lost sheep, no doubt.

Now, they did leave a leaflet. The one they did last year as well. It is called 'Would you like to know the truth?' and it gives answers to six questions. I think there is still hope for me after all. Especially since the dishwasher delivery guys take their sweet time getting here.

The answers are structured in two parts, a) is why we ask this question, b) what the Bible tells us.

The six questions:

1. Does God really cares about us?
a) there are religions that preach sufferance existing because God allows it, but they don't give any specific example. They just point the finger, but do not want any legal troubles, I suspect.
b) God does not cause evil. Right. God cares so much that he made it possible for His purpose to become a certainty. Not quite the answer to the question asked, but still. Crystal clear.

2. Will the wars and sufferance ever end?
a) Still a lot of people die in wars and everybody may suffer. (Pretty observant people. It would have never crossed my mind.)
b) God foretells a time when peace will reign on Earth. He will also end all sufferance and injustice. No time frame mentioned. So better not hold my breath.

3. What happens to us when we die?
a) Most religions say that after death, something inside the humans lives on. Others say that the dead can hurt the living or that God punishes the sinners to live in eternal flames of hell. Bad, bad people!
b) Wrong. When people die, they cease to exist. Since the dead are not aware of anything any more, they do not feel, they can neither harm, nor do good to the living. Hmm, they might be right on this one.

4. Is there any hope for the dead?
a) We all want to live with the ones we love. It is natural to long to see once more the dear ones that passed away. Oh, the sheer simplicity of truism!
b) Most those who died shall resurrect. As per the initial intention of God, people will be brought back to life to live in a heaven on earth. So not all those who died. Who gets permission to come back? 'The obedient people'. What does that mean? And I am pretty sure I do not fall into that category.

5. How to pray so that God listen to me prayers? (Oh, Jesus... Literally.)
a) All people of all religions pray. Still, many have the feeling their prayers are not listened to. (A counter-example came to my mind: 'Please, God, please, let me win the lottery this time, please.' 'I would very much want to help you out on this one, but, for my Son's sake, buy a ticket this time, won't you?!')
b) Jesus tells us not to use clichés. If we want to be heard, we must pray as He wants us to. We must learn the will of God and then pray in harmony with it. (Oh, so THAT's where people get it wrong...)

6. How do I find happiness? (Tough one. Let's see the answer...)
a) Many think that money, fame and beauty bring them happiness. They pursue these goals, but realise that they are none the happier. (Duuh! It's certainly not only the money, but, let's face it, money certainly help. As for fame and beauty - people who think this is what happiness is about, when they lose them, they are afterwards converted to Jehovas' witnesses, I think.)
b) Obviously, true happiness can be found only if we try to satisfy our greatest need, to find out the truth about God and His intentions towards us. This can only be done by reading the Bible. (THAT simple! I knew there was some truth about this reading as a pastime.)

So, there you are. You are now as lucky as I am to know the Truth.

I can't believe I am THAT bored to have translated a darn leaflet for the Jehovah's witnesses! In my defence, I am still waiting for the dishwasher to be delivered. They should have been here an hour ago. So much for German punctuality.

Now, after actually reading the leaflet, I wonder: what precisely is the double-digit IQ needed to fall for such globberdash? When I say that the Bible is perhaps THE Big Book, I mean it is such a masterpiece of human pshychology that with apparently simple words it can be so vague on certain subjects that allows any interpretation. And since humans are made so that they are happy when they hear what they want to hear, the Bible literally speaks to anyone.

I am not trashing down God and his followers, I do believe there is a God, only for me He is not the old, white-bearded fellow dozing off up above, He (for lack of a better pronoun) is something else, which I am not going to talk about here. But passing self-evident truths as the words of God is insulting both for God and the people whom the words are addresses to. Opium for the masses does not mean boring me out of my mind or until I pass out, whichever comes first.

I am just acknowledging the fact that, to my dismay, I am not tolerant at all. But more orthodox than ever. Or better said, I am tolerant with other religions as long as they mind their own business and do not try to make me discover the Truth or, plainly said, convert me. As for the 'intellectual exercise', sod it off, I am too choleric for such an exercise.

Frankfurt IAA 2009 - girlie perspective on autoshow and cars

2009-09-29T16:39:00.026+02:00

We went last week to the Frankfurt car show. Lotsa people, lotsa cars, old and new, the usual, you know. I will try not to bore you with the run-of-the-mill account of an auto show, I will only tell you what I remember about it, good and bad.

First of all, it's HUGE. You can get blisters walking around cars. Which I find ironic. Walking and cars in the same sentence.
Compared to the Geneva one, is like an melon and an apple put together. The same might be only the number of people of square metre. The good thing is that some stands really stood out. (Oh, how I love me puns!)

The best of them (and quoting our friend Fred from Lyon, çà m'arrache la tête de l'dire) was the BWM stand. Enormous. They had a small circuit inside it! That big it was.

A circuit where you could have a go with one of the beemers. And they had a couple of beautiful, dressed and decent girls standing by their concept car.

Tasteful and interesting. BMW is not my car of choice, but they really did win the "best in show" stand.

Then (almost a tie, they only lost to BMW 'cause of the circuit thing) it was the Renault stand. Most precisely their concept cars stand. Which was spacious, with pastel colours like aqua and pistachio-green, and the cars were all fluffed up and girlish. Don't know about the rest, but I, for one, liked it. It was the first time when a car showed its gender (in most languages, car is feminine, in case I am being too obscure). There, see?

Et bon, çà va, toi...

And talking about gendered cars, what about this Citroen?

Oh, cheri, comme je t'attends, oh, la, la...

The filtered look between luscious lashes, the rounded little mouth, it is definitely a she. No doubt about it.

To wrap up the French, Peugeot had a very interesting water display.

A car show is not only an occasion to see all cars together (more or less), but to see cars that you don't usually see. Like Brabus, the Mercedes tuning company. Had no idea who they were anyway, but I found it impressive. Now, THAT's a German car, Clarkson, don't you agree?

Or the British red Vantage. V 12. Gorgeous. The people behind it were crowding to get inside a closed set to see a new Aston Martin. Or whatever, I don't really know, I refused to queue, even for an Aston.
Talking about queuing, those airheads at Jaguar pulled the same trick as they did in Geneva. Namely, they closed down their stand, and locked up their cars. You could not get closer to any of the Jags, you had to stand in line to be allowed to enter the exclusive Jag space. They got another "sod off" from us, thankyouverymuch. I do not understand this attitude, you could go touch an Aston, but not a Jag, come effing on! The cars are beautiful, owning a Jag makes you instantly 10 cm taller, but I could not stand their idea of stand. There.

(imagine a picture with the logo and only JAGU in the background;
that is the only picture of Jaguar from Frankfurt, but since the blogspot image uploader is weird, I am not willing to go through all the hoops again just for that)

Moving on. Still an enclosed space to display the cars, only that the cars were very close to the enclosure and you know, a Maseratti is not a Jag. By stretching a bit (more), I could get 10 cm taller (without high heels, but with serious loans) this lifetime. Not the same with a Maserati.

Incidentally, I may have not told you yet, and this is the best occasion ever, to tell you a bit of trivia about my home town. There, some 120 km away from Bucharest, there was a pair of brothers whose father was a true petrolhead. So much that he named his sons... Maserati and (what else?!) Ferrari. No, I am not kidding. They were famous when I was in high school. Haven't heard anything about them in more than a decade. So no, I have no idea if they had little Porsches of their own.

And then, there was... rghini. Lambo-rghini. Neither shaken, nor stirred. I still wonder how this car did not get to be James Bond's. The only explanation I have is that it is not British.

We got to say "Hi" to a movie star. Hi, Shelby. You were the star in Gone in 60 seconds, not Nick Cage, not even Ange.

Last, but not least, the reason for which we drove to Frankfurt.

Which Scandinavian Experience could mean this:

Oy, where IS the steering wheel anyway?!

Or the fluid lines of the new Volvo S60:

But no, Scandinavian for us is...

The stand was more sparkly than the one they had in Geneva.

And I must say here that we only went because we were sent tickets to go see...

And here is the new 9-5.
I like the new rear. (I checked with the usual suspect and I am not wrong, this is indeed the new rear of the new 9-5. If you find any inadvertence is only due to the fact the hubs was not at home to double check.)

So, there it is. This is what we did last Tuesday. More photos, in case you want to see more cars, can be found on the flickr account.

For now, toodiloo.

Kat 101

2009-09-10T15:10:00.013+02:00

Perhaps it's that time of the year when I try to list all things that I consider important, that could give someone a better glimpse into who I am, but honestly, I have been thinking about this post for quite some time, and now it is the time to do it.

I start from the presumptuous presumption that someone gives a flying darn about that. I also presumed that since the blog address is listed on the Facebook page, my friends would notice it. They don't.

Nevertheless, in random order:

1. I love my husband. Completely, utterly, madly in love with that guy! We are two of a kind. We are known to say the same thing at the same time, or finish each other's sentence, from the very first time we met. We think alike in most respects. We put each other first and God, that feels divine.

I used to think that people who define themselves through their relationships or children are looking for subterfuges to assert themselves, or so weak that they do not know who they are so they identify with common accomplishments in life. I now know that I was young and foolish. A successful relationship and children are not common. OK, maybe children are common, but they still can define the parent (some of them). Which is not always true the other way round.

I did not want to get a kitten, although I had more pets than hubby. He was the one who wanted a grey cat. We've got it. And boy! is Milo a handful... But in a good way. Mostly. :-)

2. I appreciate very much intelligence. For a long time I thought that being smart was the most important thing.

I have come to realise that I was wrong. Being kind is far more important. I am not talking about instances of kindness, I am talking about the deep-in-the-soul-rooted kindness, a defining quality in a human being, which, sadly, is so rare. It is way more common to be mean, even if it is just a reaction to the pettiness, stupidity and evil around us or happening to us. And despite being preached by all religions from the beginning of times, kindness is so often mistaken as simple-mindedness. I do believe that the world would be a far better place if we all were a bit more kind and a bit more polite. Manners are also considered old-fashioned, and they shouldn't.

3. I do not cry at movies. Usually. The only movies I cried at are

- The incredible journey Towards the end, when Shadow falls in the pit, I found myself in need of a Kleenex.
- Romeo + Juliet And no, it was not the plot, I knew how it ended beforehand. Baz Luhrmann is the director I like most, he blends classic with kitsch precisely to my taste. And Leonardo de Caprio IS a good actor, too bad he still has the loom of Titanic hanging over his shoulder. As for Clare Danes, this was the role of her life. I think she raised the bar for all Juliets to an unbelievable height. Rarely can one find a Juliet more youthfully sweet, yet sassy and knowledgeable in the matters of the heart. *
- M.A.S.H. : grant it, it's no movie, but it is a GREAT show, this episode, with the practical joker, makes me laugh every time I watch it (reason for which I watch it quite often); this episode, when Henry dies, never fails to get a sniffed sob out of me. I watched the entire series, I have it all on DVDs, I still cannot watch the last episode, when they all go home and it ends with Hawkeye in the chopper watching down at the beach, where B.J. wrote 'good bye'... (sniff). I am pathetic, really, I grow older and none the stronger.

4. I am in awe before Shakespeare and his genius. I also owe him my proficiency in English. And other life lessons, such as: if you lose, it does not make you a loser (a.k.a. Hamlet), or sometimes, only love is not enough (a.k.a. Romeo and Juliet); or owls are not what they seem (a.k.a. Othello); or don't be foolish, because life is cruel anyway (yes, that would be King Lear).

5. I read Harry Potter several times, and will most certainly do so in the future (as I do with books I like, re- and re-read them over and over). This is how writing should be (in my books, of course) - simple, yet complicated, heart-warming and wonderful. I find myself annoyed how many people disregard this series, considering it 'childish'. It may be addressed to children, but it is too simplistic to discard it this way. The wizarding world is a charming mélange of Arthurian themes, chivalric symbols, fundamental legends and myths, found in various forms in all corners of the world, the books deal with topics like coming of age before one's time and against one's will, death (and fear thereof) and dictatorship (or how to ignore something bad until it becomes unbearable). Whoever fails to see the magic in HP must have a on/off relationship with the child within and the magic that sets off the imagination. I do not hold people who do not like Harry Potter in contempt, I am just sorry for them for missing out on a great adventure and read. There are not so many long books which make you sad to have finished reading them.

6. I like to drive, but I am at my most irritable when driving. I cuss more and heavier than a proper lady should when driving. I also understand how it feels to cross the thin line between normalcy and road rage. The line I hear most often when I am driving is 'But you don't have to get so angry, really now'.
I have a lot of beefs with drivers and driving habits anywhere, e.g. (in no particular order):

- drivers who change lanes without signalling;
- tailgaters;
- drivers who speed up just to close in the gap when they see you signalling to change the lane;
- drivers who speed up, even though the red light is on, only to break with a screech within twice less the advisable distance;
- drives in old, beaten cars who zoom by on the fast lane with 10 km over the speed limit, because it is the only time when they can overtake.

I had two accidents, both of them 5 days apart, neither of them my fault (they both hit me in the rear). The car had to stay for an entire week in the shop to be repaired, because, surprisingly, two accidents do twice the damage, go figure! The boot was shrunk to the extent that the spare tire could no longer be taken out of it. Swell. The first time, the guy that hit me told me he had no idea what to do in case of accident. I believed him, even after the police told me that they chased him and only stopped after they fired their guns. He was stopped at gun point, but that does not mean that he knew the procedure to follow in case of minor accident.

7. I speak several foreign languages, one of them very well (En), some of them well (Fr and Sp), a couple basically (De, It), and I also understand some others, but only in their written form (Pt and Nl). I could be so much better at all of them, had I only the drive to expand my vocabulary and practice more... It's the only thing I am very good at, and which I thought would help me so much in life, and actually it does not, not at the moment or foreseeable future, anyway (in the getting a job perspective, I mean; otherwise, I think of myself quite entertaining in a multicultural milieu).**

8. I am a decent cook, but do not have the patience to whip up amazing, toiled over dishes. I comfort myself thinking that if only I would want to, I could. Until further proof, it shall remain as such. As for food, the only thing that I do not swallow easily is cauliflower, other than that, anything goes. Oh, and I love-love-love red fruits, berries of any kind being my all time favourite.

9. It is not difficult for my feathers to be rubbed up the wrong way (perhaps it is not unwise to read choleric, although that might be a bit of over-stretching). Luckily, those feathers are just figurative. The result of such activity is sometimes, nonetheless, obviously real. I resigned myself to believing that it is part of my hidden je ne sais quoi.

10. I love the roaring 20s. Love the fashion, love the music (up to the 50s, these are the three decades when good music, the kind that smooths your soul, was made on a constant and general basis), love the air and the social conduct and precepts. Nevertheless, I do not regret missing out and being born 5 decades later.

11. I wish I was slimmer. But I can't be bothered to actually do something in this respect. Complacency is the ruling word on this matter. Weight is not something that clouds my mind, although, according to certain voices, it should. But those voices never carry anything to far.

12. I used to smoke. I've smoked for some 13 years or even more. I do not know what I was thinking at the time. I quit this nasty habit 3 years ago. Gained some (heavy) weight. But I honestly think it is a fair trade.

13. I love board and card games. I was a redoubtable canasta player. Hélas, I haven't played in years. This is one respect in which hubby and I are completely complementary. He is unmoved by such endeavours. I still nurture the hope that maybe he was not exposed to the proper environment and is a talent waited to be discovered.

14. I love chocolate and am able to eat industrial quantities. Still, I must specify that only milk chocolate falls into this category. Dark chocolate is admissible only in combination with mint or in case it is the only sort available. White chocolate - don't bother showing up with THAT, I hate the stuff, can't stand it and am able to not touch it at all, even if otherwise I could murder (with a clean conscience, I might add) for sumtin ssweeeet.

15. I am very much into what could broadly be named pop culture or entertainment, i.e. show biz and celebrities populating it, movies, TV shows and series, actors, who was in what, whom were they linked with, when, what the show/media item they were featured in was about, trivia about movies that are hardly useful to understand the movies as such, and some other two pages I could tell you about this topic, only I think I'd better spare you the trouble. But, if you ever go on Who wants to be a millionaire and hit a question about an obscure (to you) name who did something in the movies/TV and still have the option to 'call a friend' - I am the person you want to call. I either know the answer or can get it in the 30 seconds alloted for the call (but frankly, I am pretty sure I know it and do not need to look it up). No kidding. I am very up to date with American (in and out Hollywood), British, I think I may have a say even about the French show biz and pipol.

16. I read. Daily. Books and online texts. I cannot fall asleep if I do not read. I enjoy biographies, 19th century literature (I still wait to be offered the complete Jane Austen books as a birthday present), sci-fi, thrillers, and practically anythings that I hear that mys be a good book, I read it. The only book I could not finish reading was Chuck Palahniuk's Haunted. (I keep postponing to go back to it.)

17. I also enjoy TV series. I am grateful that (finally) the TV producers realised that the concept of 'TV series' can be more than soap operas or 30-minutes sitcoms. I have reserved an entire other post for this topic, I am still working on it. But it is good. Wait till I finish it. You will see then what I mean by Trivial Pursuit overload at point 15.

18. I love Christmas time. The songs, the holiday smell floating in the air, the decorations, the songs (I want to make sure you are paying attention AND emphasize this point at the same time), the red and gold or blue and silver, everything except the commercialness shoved down consumers' throat by merciless profiteers. I agree to small, symbolic gifts, but that is all.

19.I can't think of anything else for the moment. I will come back with a later edit, if case may be.

20. I simply cannot live the list end at point 19. This simply cannot be! Because... I like symmetry, in practically all aspects of life. On my desk, there are things symmetrically placed left/right; when I eat, I like to use 'dosage' so that I can have an equal amount of food of everything until I finish eating (even if that means eating one pea at a time or eat a small fry in three bites); I like to walk inside one of the tiles which make up the pavement at a time, if that is not possible, than I like my foot to step precisely on the joint between the smaller tiles; I like my hair parted in the middle, although it is not the best look I can get, so I usually part it on one side, which has to be approximately the half of the half, that would be the quarter of the skull, and many other examples. It is not a science, it takes only a bit of getting used to, so that things can be done properly. People don't usually notice this about me, and when I mention this, they smile superiorly, thinking I only seek attention, which I am so not, it is only the OCD in me. You down with OCD***/ Yeah, you know me.

* - By the way (in case you did not know, I may brag about it), we are not told how old Romeo is, as for Juliet, she was two weeks short of 14 years of age when her father talked to her marriage with Paris, in the beginning of the play. That did not prevent her saying to Romeo that he kissed "by the book". Really, what books have you been reading, missy?!

That snide remark aside, contrary to the popular belief (namely that, at that time, marrying so young was a custom), actually motherhood before 18 was strongly frowned upon, precisely because it was too soon, and the average marriage age was between 20 and 20. Shakespeare may have on purpose made Juliet so young, but precocious, in order to give the play a sense of ominous inevitability and a "sense of a painful too-soonness" (a phrase I loved and remember since Uni).

** - This is the only thing I am good at, and yet I have huge areas where improvement is needed. This is not the perfectionist in me, it is simply a dimension of my personality which I still have to develop. Soon. -er better than later. Because it is really pathetic to say that the only thing you are good at is only half-way to its potential exploited. Ok, I will start tomorrow. Better on Monday. Or on the 1st of the month, when I also start exercising. Yep, 'atz a plan.

*** - Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is currently classified as an anxiety disorder marked by the recurrence of intrusive or disturbing thoughts, impulses, images or ideas (obsessions) accompanied by repeated attempts to suppress these thoughts through the performance of certain irrational and ritualistic behaviours or mental acts (compulsions).

OCD should not be confused with obsessive-compulsive personality disorder even though the two disorders have similar names. Obsessive-compulsive personality disorder is not characterized by the presence of obsessions and compulsions; rather, it is a lifelong pattern of insistence on control, orderliness, and perfection that begins no later than the early adult years. It is possible, however, for a person to have both disorders. Read more: http://www.minddisorders.com/Ob-Ps/Obsessive-compulsive-disorder.html#ixzz0QjpXVQYY

Looking for my wit's end... There it is! I'm at it.

2009-09-03T18:34:00.007+02:00

I am so egocentric that I cannot write anything worth reading without getting too much personal info into that text. And I have reached the point where being the centre is no longer fun. I would like to 'right sumtin deep' having as subject a wonderful topic that is totally unrelated to me.

So, unable to do the 'rightin' thang', I will again deal with something personal.

I was absent for some time from this blog, due to events which were out of my control and which made me go through a quite vast array of emotions. Yes, I kept posting now and then, but my heart was really not into it. For example, I could have easily told you so much more and wittier about U2, but plainly it was not the right time.

First I was elated to get pregnant. Hopeful, day-dreaming, planning nursery and thinking about which school to choose, confident that 'this is it, my life is going to change forever'. I was right about the 'forever changed life', but not in the way I expected.

Then I was worried (and this feeling, I am afraid to say, has not left me yet, nor does it seem to. Soon. Or ever.). Things were not evolving as they should, yet I remained hopeful.

Afterwards, the world as I knew it came crashing down. I had a missed abortion at approximately 10 weeks. And yes, it is true, life would never be as I knew it before.

Cue enter 'dead inside' feeling. Which had two meanings, for a while there was something dead in me, and then there was the 'absent limb pain' that took over.

Despair, hopelessness, pointlessness, disappointment, failure, and an entire cohort of other such feelings that I am tired of remembering floored me.

Then I started to resurface from the cesspool of negative thinking. It is tiring to put up a happy face, but it pays off in the end, because it comes a time when it is no longer so difficult and you realise that it is getting better.

I am getting better. I will never be the same, I know, and where once I was fearless, now I am a very changed person, marred by crushed hope and worry. And I tend to rename 'pessimism' with 'realism', which is childish, I am not fooling anyone, not even myself, but I am trying to change that.

Now I feel best I have been in months. I can talk about our loss without crying, or getting teary-eyed, or chocking with sudden pain in my throat. It is not easy, but it is no longer that difficult.

Getting back to the land of hoping is another thing, though. I do not think I will ever be that bright-eyed as I was last April. I never realised how fragile life is. I knew it theoretically, but not emotionally, which is a whole different thing altogether. It is like knowing about 'love' as something fools rush into, and actually losing your head for a person who, although you know perfectly well is not perfect, is nonetheless perfect for you, and you find yourself able to do things you have never thought about before and notions such as self-humiliation or limits you impose yourself change every single day. Only that what I felt was the opposite of love. Or, to be more precise, it was not a fulfilled love, but an unrequited, forlorn and lost love.

Anyway. Time heals all wounds.

Wait, this is something I deeply do not agree with. Time wounds all heals, yes.

No, I think that time puts a crust on wounds that helps contain them, yes, but it does not heal. A scar does not mean a healed wound, it is a reminder of a wound.

But, since all things in life come with a counterpart, hence the duality of life, you know, day-night, good-bad, sad-happy, black-white (with the mention of a bazillion shades of gray in between them), yada-yada, even the darkest cloud in my life comes with a silver lining. I appreciate what I have more, my life, my love, the support and help I get without asking, and much more. It is nice and heart-warming. I think I'd better stop here, because no matter what I say or think about, I get teary-eyed.

So, since kid take #1 did not go as planned, we got a cat. At least this plan worked out fine. No, we are not replacing the kid with a cat. But the cat is a very welcome relief. Milo, 'cause that's his name, is a Russian Blue, one of the, if not THE, most loving, sweet and playful kittens in the world. Good training for when we do have kids for real, this one, as well, because it does test my patience at the most surprising of times. And I can't really do anything about it, it's a kitten who only knows how to play and for whom concepts of 'not on the table', 'don't chew my book', and so on, are simple invitations to play. He does help us (read me) relax more, he makes me laugh more (can't keep a straight face when seeing a cat chasing its own tail, or coming from the toilet with two drops of litter on its nose, or falling over from over-stretching in its sleep, too funny to watch, I am telling you).

Autumn is here. The August heat is almost gone and the rain can be smelled in the evening air. I love autumn and it has always been a very productive time of year for me. I get more things done in autumn, I read more, I learn better, I work more efficiently. I hope this autumn is going to be just as kind with me as it has been before.

I notice that I have only crap tags in this blog. Well, can't really be bothered to change that.

Now, I hope that I will come back soon(-ish) with more beefs. Because, let's face it, this is what I am best at.

This is what this blog lacked. A bit of a personal touch, isn't it?

Oh, and the title - yep, I reached one end of my wit. But thankfully, my wit is star-shaped (linear would be boring, so I like to think of it as star-shaped, it's comforting to know that you have more than one end), and now that I reached one end, I am coming back and trying to not reach another soon. The solution for my predicament is too evident to spell it out.

The music end of this post is a bit of Ol' Blue Eyes:

How do I love U2? Let me count the ways...

2009-08-05T10:54:00.006+02:00

My personal history with U2 started when I was in the 9th grade. I was 15, I think. I remember the first U2 song I heard - it was "Pride (in the name of love)". Like with all U2 songs, I did not like it in the beginning. Then, I could not stop listening to it over and over. That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship over the years.

It has always been like this. First time I listened to a U2 song, I would think 'What in the name of Merlin's saggy bottoms have they come up with? How much not sober were they really?' And then, I start humming along. And then I start humming it without hearing it on the radio or whatever, just because it got stuck in my head. And in a good way. Always in a good way with U2. Which I interpret as a sign that I kind of like them.

I admit that U2's 'wanna do good' attitude is sometimes not that easy to swallow. I suspect that is because one might not expect preaching from entertainers, and also being told what to do, because this is of course good, almost instantly has as reaction the less reverential line ending invariably with 'off'. BUT, in these times in which selfishness is promoted as a virtue, and shallowness is a way of living, some moralising and reminding sympathetic ears that there are other things in life worth their time and putting their existence into perspective, like justice, greater good, the environment and poor people in remote corners of the world being exploited by ruthless profit making corporations. Due to U2, I have heard about governments like those ruling over Tibet and Myanmar who tell the entire world to sod off and keep on doing whatever they like, which in theory sounds great (name just one country who would not like to say that to the great US of A ...), but somehow, this is not all that right, is it now? Anyway, I am glad that someone takes time to do stuff like that. And yes, I have heard a zillion times that when you are rich, you can afford to preach eradicating poverty and profess charity, but this is normal, isn't it? When you are not content with your life and/or in need of vital things like food and shelter, the wellbeing of your neighbour hardly makes your priority list, doesn't it now? I'd rather listen to and follow Bono and his mates than that fart-head Liam Gallagher who trashes U2 and Coldplay for their charities and thinks he's better because he likes a 'bit of fun' and confesses he g sot high on some 1 million pound worth of drugs. Never ever liked that w**ker, even less, if possible, after he said that.

I digress, as usual.

What I like about U2 is that their music describes moments in life as you, me, them, anyone with a higher than two digits IQ can have. And since I am talking about how much I like them, I will continue in first person from now on.

I did things in the name of love, not sure where my pride was in all that, but after all that, it is still intact. I get stuck in a moment, more oft than not, and I can't get out of it, not by myself - ain't love the sweetest thing? I had at least one beautiful day, I walked on and keep doing it, I did find desire and ONE even better than the real thing to whom I can say 'All I want is you', I felt numb in a city of blinding lights where the streets have no name, I found out that sometimes you can't make it on your own, with or without you, been in a discotheque, known vertigo...

I like U2 because they are simple and yet oh, so complicated. Because they have put instances of truth into simple words, like 'nothing to win and nothing left to lose'. Because they are cool, and somehow get cooler with time. Because even though Bono is the definition of coolness, he still is not cool for his teenage kids, he is boring like any other dad. Because they reinvent themselves every time you think you have nailed them down to one genre. Because their music is not dateable. Because they don't get themselves too seriously while being rather serious about whatever they do. Because their music can make me laugh and cry. Because they give the most awesome, mind-blowing concerts.

I don't fancy myself going to sit up front, next to the stage, at any concert, not even a U2 concert. But I will most definitely go see them again next tour.

Few things that became even clearer during the latest holidays

2009-07-26T18:39:00.008+02:00

Holidays are great, they are the best and largest excuses source ever for indulging oneself in things one normally would sorely try to resist temptation to yield to. So I will not bother my two readers with stories of scrumptious food and palate-tickling beverages, sun bathing, dolce farniente, and any other similar activity.

I will resume myself to listing some apparently trivial, yet not all that useless observations (especially for those slower with the synapsing thing).

1. Don't kick rocks. Willingly or not, kicking rocks, small or large, is a habit you should avoid. Walking with damaged toes is scarcely pleasant, and meddling with the metacarpals is hardly more gratifying.

2. People tend to be right especially if something not particularly pleasant is at stake. It is flattering when you are proven right after many have told you the opposite. Unfortunately, being right is not always pleasant, since 'truth' rarely is. Nevertheless, the ability to 'read' into happenings and people nicely butters up one's own self.

3. The conundrum of to tell or not to tell remains as such, a conundrum. If you tell people something personal, rarely will you receive the reaction you expect. Not telling and them finding out anyway equals secrecy and on purpose malevolence. No one ever thinks of the other in such occasion, only about how THEY THEMSELVES were affected (usually this is altogether pointless for the entire situation and participants but for the person in question).

4. Preaching does not mean actually doing what is preached. More precisely, too many preach tolerance while not being tolerant themselves. And God knows we DO need tolerance, from the small, insignificant matters to the huge ones.

5. People are NEVER satisfied with what they have. If it is cold, then they long for hot weather. But not too hot. When they do get it, they miss the familiar cold and claim to prefer it to the hot. This lasts until they actually do get it. Moment when they switch back to hot wanting again. Replace 'hot' and 'cold' with any other pair of antonyms and you have the accurate picture of the human psyche. Now, I'm gonna put on my warm socks, because the cold I was missing when I spent last week under scorching sun is starting to get to me.

Corollary: I do hope this helps humans progress, although the only progress I can fathom right now is in the whinging department.

6. Packing is messier than unpacking. I knoooow, this IS a surprise, but it is nevertheless true.

7. The source of platitudes never dries out. NEVER. :-)

On this note, dear two readers, I leave you to another classic of the Andrews Sisters, this time with Danny Kaye, which conveys number 5 better than I ever could. Civilization... I'll stay right here!

Talking to my hand

2009-07-06T19:54:00.007+02:00

When I was younger, so much younger than today, I wanted very much a tattoo. Two cat paws on my back, I was sort of undecided exactly where, either on my shoulder or above the heinie. I have always hesitated. Thank God I did! I would have paid dearly to have it removed by now.

I got a second piercing in my left ear at 18, but I don't really regret it, it is not obvious and I still have some small earrings that I can still wear and they look alright, it doesn't give me a "bad girl" look - it's the tiniest of little holes, how can that give any look at all, you have to squint to see that there is an extra earring there.

Nowadays I see that the tattoos are more fashionable than ever. You can see them on all types of persons, and they are no longer considered repulsive, as they were during the times they were mere sailors accessories.

But I still thank God that I was chicken enough not to get one. That would have been one very permanent youth mistake for me.

I have noticed that among my friends there are very few who have tattoos, and those who have are not exactly on the weekly or monthly roster. Could it be that those who play together, stay together? I suspect so.

I also suspect that with age, the conservatory streak in me gets thicker. I wasn't all that wild to begin with. Continuing the plan with improving myself, I should add - increase the amount of tolerance to things I don't like or agree with. And perhaps letting my hair down more often, although this one is literally very uncomfortable. In the very literal sense, I have always hated the feel of hair on my face, even when I was a child or a teenager. I fancied hair-dos with bangs and hair partly covering my face, but I never had neither, I couldn't bring myself to it, the moment I feel hair on my face, I instantly tuck it behind my ears. This could also explain my expertise at plaiting hair. So, no hair down for me. I should find another synonymous phrase.

I realise this is a very useless post. To make it less so, let's enjoy some more music. The Andrew Sisters - absolutely adorable, singing Rum and Coca Cola. Love them both, the lovely trio and the tipsy-making and refreshing cocktail.

A better person

2009-07-04T10:58:00.005+02:00

Everyone in life should struggle to become a better person, or at least this is what the moral precepts teach us. This endeavor is not at all times a successful one. And that is because in the human psyche one can find embedded the conception that we, as individuals, are pretty much as good as it can get, leaving not that much to improve.

One of the social conventions require us not to boast, and naturally, whatever we say is not necessarily true.

But from time to time, indiscernible to our perception, someone truly desires to become a better person.

And here I am, indiscernible to the rest of the world, wanting to become a better person. What would I like to improve then? Well, let's start with forgiving abilities.

I would really like to be able to forgive easily than I do. Fairness is very important to me, and I find forgiving the first time not that baffling. But, as it always happens, people err repeatedly - me included, I have no illusion of myself being perfect. The part I would like to improve concerns forgiving AFTER having already forgiven once.

I do sound elusive, in more than one sense, and I will try to clarify this further.

I am known for writing long letters and e-mails. This is because I like to keep in touch with people who are not within physical reach and because often I express myself better in writing, since I can refine the wording to make it less blunt or awkward as it comes out when I speak. What I would like to focus my attention on now is not the writing part, but the keeping in touch part.

I do not have many friends, but those I have, I want to keep in touch with them. And this means a two way communication. To my disappointment I have found myself in the position where I was the only one trying to maintain a friendship, while the others were too busy doing anything else but replying my attempts to, well, keep in touch. I do not mind being ignored, I do not need attention from everybody, but from a selected few. I enjoy being left to my own devices by everyone else, but I demand the modicum of attention from my friends.

Despite my being quite straightforward in all dealings in my life, I somehow not managed to make myself understood in this respect by a some dear friends.

One of them proved to be a very important disappointment for me, first because I thought we really connected and that our friendship was able to stand the test of distance, and second because we became friends later in my life, when I thought of myself as being much learned and capable of 'reading' people. To my surprise, she stopped writing and never attempted to get back in touch. I sent her an invitation on Facebook, but truly unintentional, since I sent an invite to my entire address book - I know, silly mistake, I sent invites to everyone I ever wrote to, including the consulate in Lyon and in Munich, the doctor and the cosmetician! Embarrassing indeed... Aaanyway, she is now among my friends on FB, but apart from sending me silly applications, she never sent me a WORD. Sad, isn't it?

Now, I realise that the more time passes (it has been more than a year and a half), the more things get simpler and the way to go back to a common ground is getting less reachable.

I would like to be a better person than I am now and be able to get back to being friends with this lady. I just can't and I do not know how could I possible do this.

But I already start to babble and this is not a wise thing. Perhaps I should concentrate on improving that as well...

I realise we humans are flawed and that perhaps this is what makes us interesting and worth the attention in general, but how can one tell if something in oneself can be improved or it is just so definitive that it would be easier to change spots on a leopard?

I wish I were better. But not really a Mighty, Mighty Man :-)

Yep, hubby is back to playing Fallout. Great game indeed.

Beefs again

2009-06-22T09:44:00.003+02:00

I am really ticked off by great books printed in an impossible small font. These publishing houses must work closely with opticians, otherwise I cannot fathom the fascination for tiny letters on a tiny page.

Long time...

2009-06-19T21:54:00.004+02:00

... not written.
But I managed to collect some beefs while I was away.
In no particular order:

- Germans have no idea of personal space. None whatsoever. They breathe down your neck whether you're queuing for coffee, the loo, to get on the tube or you're speeding 200 km/h on the highway. People, THIS IS ANNOYING!

- Another driving trick I do not get in Germany: why do they speed up when the light is obviously red? What is the use?! The breaking space get shorter and the risks of accident get higher. Germans usually plan their holidays two years ahead, still they have no foreseeing capacity to lift the foot from the gas pedal and hit with it the bloody breaks in time?

- Radios play silly music. Music nowadays is silly. Lady Gaga gets steadily on my nerves and I don't know if you have noticed, but in 'Poker face', there is an extra 'ma' in the second line of the chorus, or whatever that is, with 'my, my, my poker face', the second time there is an extra 'my/ma' that is definitely asymmetric and spoils the rhythm. Not that I care, but I am bothered by it every time it's on the radio. I tried switching the radio to another post, the bloody thing is too popular, it is practically impossible to miss it if one chooses to listen to the radio.

- In the same musical category: lyrics are either silly or depressing. If they are not silly, they are smart, and if they are smart, they are implicitly depressing. Happy and smart do not go together as far as lyrics are concerned. Which is depressing. Although my algorithm may not be all that smart. Perhaps because it does not rhyme.

- What's the use of paying 35 euros for private cable and have absolutely nothing worthy to watch on telly? How pathetic it is to zap all Friday night and end up blogging? This is pure rhetorical, I expect no answer.

- When you look for some recipe on the net, you find some with pictures, and you think they are helpful. They are not, because no matter what you do, whatever you are cooking will never look as the pictures posted with that recipe. I am not talking about the taste, I am talking about the looks. Yes, I have starting trying my hand at baking cookies.

- Wordpress is a bit cooler than blogger, but my biggest beefs with wordpress concern the font style and font, which are unchangeable and once you choose a theme, you are stuck with the puny little font that strains your eyes.

My crème brûlée must have cooled down by now.

Britain got talent AND some common sense left

2009-04-07T16:12:00.002+02:00

I am an addict to "pop culture". Especially the televised one (here I include movies as well, because nowadays all cinema movies are often seen on TV not in cinema per se).
The accent in this addiction falls on British and American pop(ular) culture, with everything that is involved.
In other words, I know a LOT about who does what where on TV and in the movies and, by extension, in real life, because I believe there is a close connection between the character played in a movie and the actor.

Following closely the entertainment news, I am up to date with all the trash peddled by the tabloids. And here I must take a moment to vent about this issue.

Tabloids are the scum of the scum from the bottom of the human pond. They lie, cheat, lie and lie some more, making and more oft than not destroy lives of public figures and more importantly, they destroy the very fabric that makes journalism great. Have I mentioned just how much I abhor the lies mongered by the tabloids?! I particularly "enjoy" the pieces that start from the "truth" said by someone, i.e. the "journalist" harasses someone that is famous in order to get an "exclusive" statement - "Mr. X, Mr. X, tell us something!!" - 'Something!' says the poor depleted man; what do we read next, naturally labeled exclusive? Well, the entire story how the celebrity's marriage or relationship with a close relative hangs on a thread due to alcohol and drug abuse caused by... SOMETHING. Twisting words beyond recognition is a must for tabloids' survival. Vent over. For now.

I have so largely explained my liking for 'pop culture' and the extent to which I try to keep up with it in order to come to the point of this post.

Very few people outside UK knows who Jade Goody is and how she came to be known/famous. She was an ignorant (she thought Pistachio painted Mona Lisa), racist (she was thrown out of a Big Brother, can't and refuse to be bothered which one, for bullying an Indian contestant), strident, chav loud mouth. Last August, while taking part in yet another Big Brother, she was announced that she had got cervical cancer and needed treatment. Naturally, everything happened on the telly, how else?! She died this March. Everything was closely followed by TV and tabloids, from her hospital apointments, to her one-month-before-her-death wedding to her boyfriend who, you must know, had just been released from prison for having swung a golf club at someone else, injuring that someone pretty badly, and finally to her death and very public funerals.
What is very annoying is that the same tabloids who slanted her on each occasion, now turned her into no less than a saint ! Her funeral was compaired to that of Lady Di's !! The cheek of compairing such very oposite women !!! Even "serious" newspaper felt compelled to cover this story, not in extenso, but way too much and with too many details for their higly raised noses.

Another reason why this entire story should be not much publicised and Jane Goody should not be held in the public eye as the woman who raised the awareness on the cervical cancer issue is the fact that she died because she was such an ignorant twat! She had problems early on, which were discovered and treated thanks to a smear pap. Than, as if this experience came with a two-month shelf life, she ignored no more than TWO reminders following her cervical screening, which should have alarmed her, not lulled her into oblivion. How's fault is it then? Of course, it is a pitty that such a young person should die, it is a pity her two young boys are left without a mother, but frankly, she was no saint and she should not be treated as one!

Now, fianlly, after so many puke-inducing articles about how Goody inspired so many women to go get their overdue controls, I am very pleased to read this and this. FINALLY!!!

I will give The Book of Dave and its very fine print another try after all.
Will Self, Sir Parky, chapeau !

Dogs

2009-03-25T20:00:00.007+01:00

I have always been more impressed and touched by sad stories involving dogs than by the ones involving humans. This is not a proof of my misanthropy, but one of my very soft spot for dogs. I love them. I think highly of any and every dog, which is certainly not a thing I can say about humans.

I have found this translation of Esenin's very touching poem about a bitch. (By the way, humans can transform even nice concepts into insults, can't they?!) Esenin knows how to really break a heart. Why everybody is disconsidering the Russians, I could never tell. They can reach depths of soul unknown and unsuspected before.

The reason I looked for this poem is because hubby told me about a doggie that seemed lost the other day in the S-bahn tunnel. It was a black poodle and had no tag and was looking disoriented, left and right, just like a human trying to recognise familiar places. It is said that it is a mistake to treat animals as human with feelings and the rest of the paraphernalia, but I am very against this stupid idea. First of all, I think animals do have feelings. Second, the humans are in general idiots and cannot be bothered to think for a second longer about anything else than their poor simple existence, so really, "popular" beliefs are not reliable source of wisdom. (Very few escape the mould of selfishness and end up altruistic, but this is rather an exception than a rule.) They should be so lucky to have the loyalty and unconditional love some animals prove for their masters, despite the despicable behaviour of the latter. Aaanyway...

I hope the poor poodle found his way back home and he is no longer out in the cold and snow.

I love dogs. I wish I could help them all have a good life and be taken care of. I wish I could make them feel loved. They do deserve a lot more than they actually get.
I hope the weather gets better soon, it seems the cold and gray affects a bit my mood.

NB - the translation is not exactly the best ever. I think the Romanian one was better. Oh, well...

Movies

2009-03-01T23:44:00.004+01:00

I think The Wrestler can make just about anyone feel better about their lives, with the exception, perhaps, of his fellow washed-up wrestlers. I really have mixed feelings about this one. A wasted life always makes me like that. I am not sure about the quality of the image and sound either.

And what about the cast and crew thanking Axl Rose for donating the right to use Sweet Child o' Mine?! I love GNR, both Use Your Illusion albums still stand rock solid, but frankly, Axl cannot be a bigger has-been. Just like Mickey Rourke. God! I am puzzled by the fact how we all start with virtually the same chances in life, and still a lot manage to mess up royally. When we are kids, we all look bright and bubbly and promise to be great, and something happens on the way to greatness and many are detoured. I find it even more heart-breaking when grown-ups manage to have it all and lose just because they can.

From this year's Oscar competitors, Frost/Nixon still remains the best in my book. Still have to see Slumdog, but I doubt it's that good, it won an Oscar after all, didn't it?

TV

2009-02-26T21:03:00.002+01:00

I remember being in university and staying in until 10 p.m. only to catch a new episode of Seinfeld. And it was already some years old when we were first watching it. It was great. I miss that, waiting for something good to watch. Nowadays, you can watch everything on the net or buy the season. It completely ruins the "waiting for" feeling.

Holiday

2009-02-21T22:36:00.005+01:00

It has been a week already since we came back from the skiing holiday, and I cannot tell when has this week passed by. And the same goes for the week before!

Skiing was goooood... Not only I'd got the moves, I also took part in a race (true, for beginners) and I came third (got the medal and diploma to prove it). I shared the slope with Michael Sheen, and he is a swell guy. He somehow found himself part of the jury of an event called Jump & Freeze and since he plays David Frost in the new "Frost/Nixon", the smartie who presented the show thought it was a great idea to call the night "Jump & Frost". Yoowhoooo! Get it?! God, it was an embarrassing moment, that one... Poor Mr. Sheen! But what can you expect from someone living in a little village in Austria? More common sense, I know, but perhaps there is a reason for which Westendorf is not famous for its witty comedians. Still, Michael Sheen was a brave chap and stuffed back the gros mots and behaved himself.

Now, the Jump & Freeze. Teenagers and young twenty-somethings jumped in a big swimming pool made out of snow, on the slope, naturally. They competed for the longest jump (and surprisingly, everybody managed to hit the pool and not miss it, which would have made the entire thing not funny at all), they dressed up funny, built funny "ships" and slid on the ramp straight into the freezing water! I liked best the "Couch-surfing" which was a couch with skies and people crashed on it, just like in the image that pops in my mind when I think of the website Couchsurfing.

Holiday was good.
And now I cannot wait for the next one, coming up in three weeks.
Until then, lots of stuff to do. Including a lot of homework and home work.
This is a very silly post. I should have waited until something better came to my mind.

Blogging

2009-02-02T10:22:00.002+01:00

This is food for thought concerning blogging.
Now, how many times have we heard about sad, unhappy, weird or silly happenings and thought that "this could and will never happen" to us, normal people?

Good news wanted

2009-01-19T21:41:00.004+01:00

I have heard lately only bad news. From moderately annoying to down right nasty. And I have noticed something: that almost all bad news are related to a missing person. Someone is alone and missing the presence of a partner. Someone is in an estranged relationship and is missing the way the partner was some time ago. Someone is in a marriage only because of the children and what that person is missing is a spouse to rely on and share a marriage with. Someone is missing their child. Someone is missing their pet who was exactly like a child to them.
All this heartache relates to a soul missing from someone's life.

I wish I could fix this.
I wish I could make people's life easy.
I wish they could make their lives easy.
I wish people would finally understand that they have to assume responsibility for their choices.
I wish they would stop making silly choices instead of reasonable ones.
I wish there were an easy way to deal with death.
I wish we could find the way to make waiting easier and less wearisome.
I wish good things happened to good people.

I wish I heard one piece of meaningful good news.

The older I get, the more fond I am of hearing good news.
Help out a soon to be old lady.

Latest Lazlo's lament - end of a generation

2009-01-13T19:30:00.009+01:00

Pre Scriptum: I wrote this post last week. I intended to edit it further. I no longer feel like. So here it is.

So, as I have said before, my friend laments the end of a generation that was before his. Apparently, Clint Eastwood's latest movie deals precisely with this topic. I did not have a chance to see it, it hasn't come here yet.

But this is too good a topic for me to pass on. Especially since the old generations dying in the corner of the world I come from have things in common and things that set them apart from the old generations that die out in the US.

The sense of right and wrong, the responsibility of doing the proper thing, the sense of community and family, the sense of shame (which I have to say that nowadays is almost completely lost), these are common on both sides of the pond.

Nevertheless, the old generations from Eastern Europe differ from the Western world, and this major difference comes from the long reign of communism in that part of the Earth. Here I must confess something: I am very sick and tired of talking and hearing about the "plague of communism", I lived 17 years in the post-"revolutionary" Romania and heard almost everything there was to be said about communism, not to mention having lived for 14 years the plague itself.

Still, despite this sickness and tiredness, I realize how people who have not lived it, share my feelings towards such discussion, but in fact have no clue about what communism was or felt like. Here I include people from capitalist countries and people born in the 90s.

I do not intend to get into the details of how it was to live in fear of making the wrong joke about you-know-who, you had to be rather stupid to make jokes like that in a inadvisable company, and traitors have been around and even took friendly forms since the beginning of time. I will only remind the following: seeing oranges and bananas once a year (the lucky ones, I mean); having the right to buy one half of loaf of bread per day, one kilo of sugar and one liter of oil per month; having loads of shops with nothing in them (literally, food stores with empty shelves); the cold that froze the crummy apartments in gray blocks of flats (which still stand); the abortion decree that was valid for some 20 years and led to almost an entire generation of unwanted children, starved for food and love; the entire network of lies that made up our lives at the time... These lies are the ones that affected us most. They took out the friggin' F out of LIFE and made it a plain LIE. These lies shaped so much the mentality of parents and children that they became a way of living. And now, people cannot tell the real from the fake, they keep waiting for the State to help them out, they still follow the same adagio of "we pretend to work, they pretend to pay us".

This is why the older generation saw its principles twisted and ended up bringing up many younger generations in pretty much the same way. Now we witness "evil and fake" inherited and passed on, in improved ways, from father to son. The generation that held on to their beliefs and minded their business and tried to do right was beaten up and shackled to the ground. It was an obvious conclusion that having principles was not really useful.You could get by easier if you did not have them. So it is easy to understand the erosion of the family and community, of the moral rules of conduct, process that unfortunately takes less time than one might imagine.

And when there aree nincompoops breeding, we can't really expect too much, can we now?! But in this respect, I couldn't really tell the difference between former-communist nincompoops and capitalist nitwits. Because, at the end of the day, the problem is the same: generations of youngsters more able to socialize online than in person, who think that school is for morons and milk comes from the microwave, who want all rights and no obligation. More frightening is that they believe that their chance in life is winning American Idol or America's Next Topmodel or Bachelor or any other similarly contest. Not that I don't watch some of these shows, I do. But there are very few who have talent and deserve a chance at fame, and a whole lot of the contestants just make pathetic fools of themselves. And they are the ones who grow up thinking thin is beautiful, rich is happy and brand is life. Which, in my old fashion opinion, is wrong.

Thankfully, I have succeeded in life in making friends with like-minded people who give me back the hope that I am not completely right. And if this group of friends exist, then maybe we are not alone. Maybe it is just the media's fault, people are just people as they have always been, only that now we are being repeatedly told about the human nature. Maybe shallowness is more often met than we would like. Maybe, with this overpopulation, this is just nature's mechanism to regulate this issue, cretins are to be eliminated just like bad skin peeling away after an overexposure to the sun. Maybe this is just my wishful thinking.

Nevertheless, despite my pessimism (which I like to call realism, because whenever something good could happen, it rarely does, and when something bad could happen, then it will almost surely will - little theory that saves me heartbreak sometimes), I want to believe that each generation has something good in it, even though we might not always know what. And I firmly believe that life always compensates everything, even though we might not want or like. This is why I trust the superior authority on this. From what I read and watched in the movies, I think I would have liked the 20s and its folies. From what I have lived, now it's not that bad either after all. Just do the Monty Python thing.

Tuesday, the 13th

2009-01-13T18:30:00.009+01:00

I have just realized that today was Tuesday (3 dark hours in some cultures) AND 13th (another bad omen in urban cultures everywhere, I think).
Lucky me, I got to spend it mostly indoors. Where I did not fall on anything, did not slip, burn, cut or any other similar activity. So I can safely say by now that Tuesday 13th is a good day to live and not hide. ;-) Or perhaps it was because I was not aware of it until it ended. Luckily, in this respect my mom was right: the older you get, the less superstitious smart people tend to get.

Talking about getting older - I realized one thing, not without a certain amount of surprise, I might add. When I was younger, my friends and I used to find "amusing" a lot of traits in a person and to get to be our laughing stock was a matter of couple of oddities away. At the time, I had a nagging tingling in the back of my mind that I might not be completely right (as young people have the urge to feel all the time) and that maybe, just maybe, I am prone to the same mistakes that made those people be laughed at by the self-righteous lot that we were, and I would most certainly not like to be given the same treatment. Not to mention the physical traits, right?!, that are still a huge laughable source.

And now I come to the realization that surprised me. I think that to laugh at someone is not so funny anymore. I am excluding from the very beginning the physical traits stuff. I mean, come ooon! This can be hilarious when you are 10 (at most), but to laugh because someone's big nose or large feet, that is ridiculous (pun intended). To be very clear, I am not referring to the situations when some 50 year-old dons a canary yellow miniskirt and matches it with the pepto bismol pink on the pout. Not this kind of avoidable ridiculousness.

Which makes me think - am I indeed right in the middle of the current leading to the self-righteous prick I always displayed the inclination of becoming? Am I getting too old too soon? If I am right, then why do I not see eye to eye with so many others of my age on this? I think of myself as one odd (pinkish, if I may choose) egg in the basket, but to what extent I am right and to what extent I am plainly (painfully but truthfully) wrong? To avoid confusion, I am not doubting myself (I rank pretty high in the self-confidence department) but I am constantly aware that since things can be right or wrong, I always have 50% chances to be wrong. Which is pretty high, and gives room to reevaluation.

All right, so, here is another post about me, myself and I and about how I can have too many principles stuffed up my alley. Well, suits you right for reading how I tend to see life.

And now I will end this post to move on to another. Mr. Laz threw down his glove. And I intend to rise up to the challenge.

Stihl Timbersports

2009-01-02T21:36:00.010+01:00

I could not believe it. There is such a competition called STIHL TIMBERSPORTS
link here in which a team of 4 men chop wood for fun.
It reminds me of this old movie. And what is puzzling for me is that they are genuinely having fun! Competing and wining tend to to that to people, isn't it?! :-))
Now, I wonder what is more thought-provoking: watching it on telly or going on site to cheer them up in person?

So, another year has gone by. For me personally it has been a good year. In general though, there are many who might say that it was not exactly so. I will not get into that, there are far better and competent people who can do it from more points of view I can think of right now. But I will try to sum up a few things I have learned this year. Well, not exactly learned THIS year, I knew them before, but this year was full of reminders in these following respects:

- No matter how much you might want something good to happen to a good person, that does not always turn out the way you want.

- When unhappy things happen to good people who have been waiting for something good for a while now, this can throw them off balance rather swiftly.

- Harm suffered cannot be undone by a good thing. But it can be alleviated.

- New love makes one's heart feel brand new and forget all the sorrow it has ever gone through and act as it has never been broken. New break-up, on the other hand, does not happen to that brand new sparkling heart from the beginning of a new love. No, break up accumulates in time and along with the previous break-ups, what the latest one does is to worsen the damage the heart was subjected to and make the owner plunge into new depths of sorrow.

- People often fall for the wrong kind of persons and surprisingly most of the times are unaware of this. (This is a truism but I find it surprising to see how often this happens to people from whom you expect better, really.)

- Life is absolutely spectacular when you share it with the one you love. I cannot get enough of it. This is again a truism and a most annoying one when you do not lead a boring happy life. I am not pompous to tell anyone "If you don't believe, go try it for yourself". I am truly wishing everyone the boredom of living a happy life. You'll instantly see that THIS was your life's true calling.

- Times flies by.

- Flu is being in limbo: you're not "ill" enough to call it a proper "illness" and despite its popularity people still consider you pathetic for not being able to "shake it off", still you feel like a beaten dog for an entire week and curse the modern medicine that failed to come up with a decent cure for such simple symptoms: sore throat, running nose, broken-bones feeling, mushy brains lurking behind one's eyes.

- Snow is not how it used to be like in my childhood. Children nowadays must be devastated that they cannot have one tiny little real hope for school to be called off because of snow.

The mushy brains behind my eyes are racked.
I must go run my nose in bed.

This page needs tinkering. Looks a bit... simple. I have to do something about it. Later.

End of the year

2008-12-22T11:08:00.003+01:00

We came back from the funeral on Wednesday and managed to go out a couple of times, when it was still nice. Since it has been raining for three days, we chose (wisely, I may say) to stay indoors. So for three days I have been doing what I like most - stay indoors and do absolutely nothing of importance, like reading, watching telly, play silly computer games, talk and dine in the living room (it still has such a grown-up feeling about it, I can't really say why) and seriously thinning the house edible reserves.

Also I had time to catch up on my reading on the net. I have grown addicted to reading on the net. Perhaps it is because I still consider it time-wasting, unlike reading a hardcover proper book. Combined with my old fascination for filth (the one that generates malaise, the Charles Baudelaire filth), I end up reading a lot of stuff that only aggravates my misanthropy. On this note, I have to say that having come to know filth and meanness and evil in people so well, I am touched to tears whenever I am faced with an instance of good, real or fictionalized. Which kind of worries me, because from this stage to crying at soppy movies is not really that far. And this label of crying at the movies is something I do not really want to have attached to me.

Coming back to reading garbage, on the net and on newspapers as well, I might add.
People seem to be prone to writing even MORE trash than usual now that the end of year is near. On the one hand, if you deal with serious matters, like the Crisis or failure of banking system at this time of year, don't be surprised if you appear to have a greenish tinge in photos, that would be the Grinch deep down revealed by the kindness of people around you. On the other hand, if you trifle your way through merry times and Christmas binging, there will always be someone to agreeable point out the shallowness of your behaviour.

In any case, the mood of the season holidays makes writers write silly texts and readers read them with eyes screwed up in mocking disbelief.

Thus said, I acknowledge the bareness of the season holidays from the inspiration point of view and gracefully lay my electronic pen down until next year.

Happy holidays to all of us!

What is wrong with the world today

2008-12-02T18:49:00.011+01:00

My friend, Mr. Laz, whose blog I have yet to figure out how to add on my page, tries here to make some sense in this respect. Namely, what is wrong with the world. First I wanted to comment on his blog. After I realized that it would be too long a comment, I decided to post as a comment on my own blog. So that I can profit a bit from his own fame. ;-))

In my opinion, the world is far from perfect. And it has been this was from the very beginning. I do not want to poke anything at anyone who might know more than all of us put together, but if man was created in His image, than either He is not perfect at all, as the good Book wants us to believe, or He left out on purpose a very important ingredient, which practically sent His perfection down another one of His creation, commonly referred to as the drain.

I think that the world has been this flawed from the very beginning. Men have always killed their peers, be it for a loaf of bread or a piece of country. Men have cheated, lied, betrayed, schemed, plotted, feigned, and generally killed or cause to be killed in any way conceivable, and many other similar activities since the dawn of time. Actually, apart from one single person that the majority of us believes to be His son, there is a bit of evil in all of us. Some control it, some yield to it, but one this is clear: evil is the reference point for good, hence it is omnipresent.

But even though we have lived with it since we have come into this world, it appears that over the centuries we have "refined" it and "polished" it. And now, due to all these modern means of communication, we find out about each and every instance of evil happening in this world. I am even tempted to think that perhaps there is no more evil today than it was 200 or 2000 years ago. But back then, people knew very little about it, folks from Ravena were not able to find out what was happening at the Mayan court, nor were the Finish aware of the samurai ways. When they did, the times lapsed from the actual occurrence was able to distort the event to mythical proportions or Lilliputian consequences. Either way, I believe that evil was more "local" back then. Nowadays it has acquired Biblical dimensions.

And the fact that the media misses precisely no opportunity to do its "duty" and "inform" the public about each and every crime, accident, calamity, tragedy, murder, and so on. I remember precisely how CNN relished the Virginia killing spree and they poked and prodded each person at hand with all questions crossing their minds, most of them worthy of a healthy spit between the eyes. In the name of "telling the truth" the journalists set on a quest for audiences that trivializes genuine tragedies, which is deeply, deeply wrong.

Access to knowledge is mostly good, but as any other thing in this world, has a downside as well. I say that the world is how it has always been, only that now we know about it. And instead of cooling hot heads, this only gives new ideas to people who put them to practice. I know that the attackers from Mumbai did not need any new piece of info to get on with their business. But I think that the troubled teenagers from Columbine surely got their inspiration from sources most of us consider innocent.

We are definitely living in a twisted world. If we stop to think about it and everything that could go wrong, agoraphobia would become the norm of acceptable living. Thinking about what went terribly wrong in the past apparently is of no help either, because on individual level most of us are challenged in learning from our own mistakes, contrary to popular sayings that "once burnt with soup, you start cooling down your yogurt", or "fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me" and so on. And if we are not able to learn individually, than on a larger scale the experiment has absolutely no other result than complete and utter failure.

How do we still go on living, considering all that? How do we find the strength to continue with our lives after tragedy happening to us or close to us? It's simple - by ignoring anything that might trouble us. It's the human solution to coping with tragedy. We just don't think about it and it goes away, because we keep ourselves busy with a lot of other things. Those who stop to think about it become misanthropes. The rest go on living.

Right. So I managed to go waaaay off track from what the Laz friend was talking about and, as added bonus, got myself a tad depressed because I remembered the world we are living in and which I am thinking of bringing new children in, just to get them all screwed up by an unfair and twisted society. Lovely thoughts for the weekend.

Thank God that I've got friends coming over for the weekend to cheer me up and remind me that there is still some good in this world as well. I still have got a couple of hours until we have to go pick them up from the airport.

I hope Saint Nicholas is aware of what an exceptionally good girl I have been this year. I so much deserve a treat from Hugendubel! I do.

OK. Done for today.

24

2008-11-30T21:45:00.003+01:00

With all respect to Jack Bauer and his most impressive bodycount, 24 the movie is a rare pile of bs that should make everyone involved in this movie feel ashamed.
I liked the series and thought it was so suspensefull that I needed to watch an entire season once, I could not wait from one week to the other, so I decided to wait until the season was over and I watched it in a weekend.
I teared myself away from the Mark Blake's wonderful Pink Floyd biography to watch 24-the movie and I am sorry I did that, I think someone should give me back the time I wasted on it.
I wonder if the story is continued in the up-coming 24 season that starts this January. But I am so disapointed, that I am not even bothering to look it up on the internet to see what it is all about.
What did they decided to make a movie so boring? They managed to keep up the tempo with the serie, but failed miserably with the movie.
Anyway, ranting over. Going back to Floyd.

Almost December

2008-11-30T11:21:00.005+01:00

I had no time for blogging these past weeks. I started the superhero post a while back, after I had seen the latest Bond flick, and never got to finish it. So I've just posted it today as part 1. The superhero theme is very dear to me and will certainly get back to it.

I spent some time in Romania, traveling to and fro, seeing family, friends, acquaintances, doing things with them, chatting and catching up, and in the end we were very grateful to have chosen a very comfortable car in which we spent almost half of the time. I have also realized that my home now is in Germany. I am glad to be home. It was good to see everybody and be back in my native country, but it is also good to be back home.

Romania is very much part of me, and the relationship with it is a strong love-hate one. I hate the things that are not working, corruption, bad roads (although I have to admit that they are not as bad as I expected, some of them are more than passable), unwillingness to change things for the better, the constant need to prove something (whatever that may be). I love the warmth of people, the laugh-while-crying attitude, the raw emotions you get to experience without any warning at all, the inventiveness of the place and its people that leads to hilarious shenanigans (for example, passing by a gas station called OVM, yep, no mistake, not OMV but OVM, although it was so shabby it could not have fooled anyone into believing in a typo...). It is a lot like our great compound family - crazy but lovable, heartwarming and exasperating.

I think it will take a longer time than estimated for things to get on the right track in Romania. I don't even know who is to blame for everything that Romania is criticized for - the politicians, the people who still elects the same proven over and over again dubious characters, the indifference of any authority you might think of, the inanities you get whenever you have to deal with bureaucracy. We did not invent all these, but instead of getting rid of them, we just try and find ways to coexist with them. Is this wise or foolish? I tend to say it is foolish, but I have not been a trend setter of main-stream follower of renown.

Anyway, there were some good experiences that we did not expect to have - some good roads, helpful and expeditious bank personnel, nice small neighborhood shops with polite shop assistants. And this is nice. After a long period of having a lot of bad things happening to you in your own home country, it is very comforting to have something nice to say about it.

I have just realized that today is election day in Romania. But due to some questionable legal provisions, neither hubby nor I can vote, because you have to be in the place where your legal residence is (for us Buzau) in order to be able to vote. Not that I would have known whom to vote for anyway. In Buzau or in "diaspora". I don't trust any of them candidates and would most likely have voted blank. But, thanks to the new uninominal vote law, we can't. In the same situation as us are the rest of the people who are abroad but have not renounced their legal residence in Romania, or the students who are not studying in their home town, or those completing their military service (which nowadays is no longer under forced conscription). Uninominal vote is good though, so we'll make do this time and hope the law will get better in time. I just hope that for presidential elections things will be different. I do want to express my electoral opinion in this respect. Although senators and deputies have more power and actually make the laws, I don't know who could really make a difference for the better. But I do know whom I am voting for as president.

It's Sunday. It's sunny. It's a lazy day spent at home. It's almost lunch.
So, toodiloo for now. (I keep considering these posts as letters sent to someone, and I have to end them in a letter-writing way. I am lousy at writing introductions, and not any better at finishing them.)

The Superheroes' Appology - part 1

2008-11-07T22:15:00.009+01:00

I have a theory - I have several, truth be told, but if I start telling them all at once, God save all souls around me.
BUT
I have a theory regarding superheros.

I think that the world needs superheros. As imaginary and make-believe they are, we do need them. Even though we all know the reality is far from the world of moving pictures, I think we do need them. Despite the three digits IQ, it still feels nice and comfortable thinking about ordinary looking people who can do extraordinary things. It is not suspending belief until we reach the level of self-harm. It is suspending belief until reaching the level when we can surpass our innate selfishness and start thinking about ourselves in the context of a community and we might just do something else for someone we don't really know, without any profit for us coming out of it all. That is superhero stuff.

We will never fly by ourselves (or if we will, than we will be radically different from what we are now). We won't get mutated to the point of shooting spider-threads from our wrists. We won't be able to stretch out of our physical abilities. We won't alter too much of our physical being. But it is said to be faced with an alternate reality when only such abilities prompts a human being to think about the others, don't you think? Comics are considered to be children stories. As is Harry Potter, who is not exactly a superhero, but he is very dear to me and he really helped me escape a much too cruder at the time reality. I say that they are not entirely childish, as many would treat them. I think that they are better variants of a normal human being. And don't we all aspire to be better at a certain point in our lives?

Sure, it is not entirely fair to ask of people to be better when they lack basic things, like material comfort, a house, a job, a better job, a fulfilled need to be appreciated, love, respect, a decent life... How can you think of others when your life is not what you heard it should be, what the society you live in gave you the image of, and really, now, if we come to think about it, until we consider ourselves fulfilled, we can't really start doing good for others. Unless, of course, we are not quite all "there".

So, logically, it can't be but a superhero the person who, although experiencing a not very fulfilled life, can still think of someone else but himself.

New tricks

2008-11-06T09:18:00.002+01:00

I have just noticed that the time displayed when posting was all WRONG.
Only natural, considering it was Pacific Time!! Duuuh...

I fixed it. I looked it up, found out how, and did it.
Internet has no secrets to me!
I'm close to being the queen of the world.

Long enough

2008-11-06T06:58:00.001+01:00

Perhaps a better title for this post would be "I've got a mind and I am afraid to use it".

Background:
Last year, I used to listen to a online radio that kept playing the Madonna advertisement for H&M. Something close to "Do you know what H&M stands for? Her Majesty. Well, isn't that nice of them?" I listened to it at least 15 times per day. I still say it in that mock-enticingly tone whenever I pass an H&M store, and God knows I have the chance to say it quite a lot, there are only 3 or 4 stores on Kaufingerstr. alone!

Favourable condition:
I have a hearing problem. Not an acuity one, but I am not all that able to discern sounds when there is too much noise (public places where there is loud music playing, or many people talking, or train stations, or anything similar). I had it tested, it's neurological, and can't really help it. So most of the times I "guess" what the others are saying and try to "match" it with the context. Usually it works. Sometimes the goofiest of lines come out of my mouth.
This has lead me to practice the "guessing game" even outside noisy places, and I match the meaning of words I hear to whatever I am thinking of at that moment. Still leads to nincompoop-like stances.

Unfavourable condition:
I have know from more than a year that a diminutive for Madonna is Madge.

Outcome:
It only took my one year to figure out that what Madonna says in the said advert is actually "Do you know what H&M stands for? Her Madgesty." Well, isn't THAT nice of them?! ;-)

And now I know.
Better later than not at all, I say. (I must see some good in this)

Toodiloo!

X-mas mood

2008-11-03T13:08:00.000+01:00

After a lot of trouble with this celebration that is more commercial than spiritual, after debating endlessly whether it is wise to yield to the trivial lures of marketing and spend on gifts or stand your ground and focus on religious significance, I have come to the conclusion that I am divided on this topic.

On the one hand, I consider it absolutely shameless, all right?!, to sell any kind of junk and force it down poor consumers' throat under the pretext of a "Christmas present for the one you love". Even if it is not a proper junk, it still encourages the concept of buying the affection of others and makes it acceptable to try and negotiate emotions.
"Daddy loves you so much that he talked to Santa to bring you a bike!"
"My boyfriend got me a car for Christmas, so it is true love."
"I only got a stinkin' t-shirt for Christmas, how pathetic is that, you really don't love me, you miserable bump, where would you be without me?!"
And other silly lines we all know about.

On the other hand, I am hooked on Christmas songs. Not carols, although I find some of them quite nice. I am talking about the "pop" songs of the season. What I hum most of the times throughout the year is "'tis the season to be jolly, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la". I do not do it on purpose, the palatal la-la-la gets out of my mouth without prior approval. It is already a reflex.
I listen to online Christmas radios all year long, and regularly (daily) starting with November 1st.
When I shared the office, this was a major issue, since I was the only one in favour of such practices and music. Understandably, I had to resort to headphones.

I consider this thing similar to smoking/no smoking issue. Those who don't smoke consider the smoking ban fair and welcome, while the smokers think this is discrimination. Those who don't like Christmas, for their own various motives, have heart rates going through the roof when hearing "season greetings" radios. I and the other 3 persons who enjoy the holidays section of iTunes radio, might consider the rest biased and it is only the season spirit that reminds us to be civil and behave considerately by using headphones.

On this sensitive approach, please enjoy the Frank Kelly transposition of "12 Days to Christmas".
Hopefully, I will be able to work out the technical details of sharing a youtube link on a blog.

Oh, and please note that I am not the one who started it, almost all shops have started selling Xmas stuff as of mid-October. That would increase the Xmas shopping period to more than 2 months, wouldn't it? Actually, this is what reminded me to switch from Loliradiosoft to Play Xmas UK.

Sunday digression

2008-11-02T18:27:00.001+01:00

I have asked a friend why drives him to blog. He says it is a good TV substitute.
Ever since the last post I thought about what I should write about next.
I still have no idea how this blogging works and why and so on, so I just blab about anything that crosses my mind and I expect to get the hang of it some time. I hope I will find it therapeutically good, although I do not believe that I need any fixing so far. For the moment, I can't really say I am hooked.
Anyway.

This weekend was nice. Nice weather, nice time, nice movies. We had better time than in September. Perhaps I can upload some photos later, taken today when we stopped for a while at Ammersee. I love autumn, it really has glorious colours and the sun is no longer that harsh to cast weird shadows all over and you still can see some green patches - what can I say, I do love it.

I like driving through little villages in Germany, they almost all seem deserted and the landscape is unexpected and quite nice. But, what really gets on my nerves are the much too narrow streets, on which Germans naturally drive very fast, pushing me closer to heart attack, and the very nasty habit some drivers have to not signal when they change lanes. Come on, now, how difficult can it be? I consider it a sign of politeness and common decency, especially when you are cutting off in front of someone else at a certainly illegal speed.

Now hubby is watching the last of the Formula 1 races of this year.
Aside the technically side of the sport (on which of course I have an opinion, but I am aware that I should keep it to myself, there are better commentaries out there than mine), still, I do have a problem. It is about Lewis Hamilton. More precisely his girlfriend, Nicole Scherzinger, front female whatever of Pussycat Dolls. She is 8 years older than Lewis and some gazillion miles away in style and apparent morals. How on earth does his dad allow him to go out with such a bimbo? I mean, Lewis is nice, handsome, talented albeit a tad arrogant, nevertheless he is a real catch and how did this reformed burlesque group member get her claws on him, I will not understand. For crying out loud, she dresses in plastic clothing items which one cannot imagine how she pours herself in and struts around, perched on ridiculously high platforms usually used by girls working in establishments with a preference for red curtains.

I know that almost everyone has a soft spot for the "baddie". What exactly makes us click for the bad treatment, I cannot quite explain. But it has been like that for some time, and I do not think it will go away soon, although it will probably change forms from decade to decade.
So, is Lewis just sporting his "bad girl" inclination? Could it be just that? Should we hope that it is just a phase and afterward he will meet a nice girl, settle down and do the "proper thing"?
Why are we so eager to accept any kind of treatment from a person that in our eyes seems "cool" and later on is generally described as plain rude and selfish? Are we not able to see past the leather jacket, the smoking, the gross language and the "straightforwardness"? Why is it that attention from such persons makes us feel so different and so happy? Of course, this is just for a short period of time, because such beings have the attention span of a toddler and next thing we know we are left crying in the rain while the badass has moved on to the next one in line.

I try to think about the motivation that make a person voluntarily choose to be a badass. I cannot believe that someone wakes up one morning thinking "I will be cool from now on, I will smoke, drink, fuck, swear, have as sole rule "ignoring the rules", I will treat the opposite sex as mean of obtaining sexual satisfaction and material gains, in a word I will be the pin-up for the saying ""Mad, bad and dangerous to know" ". I don't think this is what happen. I also don't think that such persons realize how their behaviour affects the others. And almost certainly, although they claim they are "rotten to the core", they have a good opinion about themselves, as we all do, deep inside ourselves. Since we can all justify our actions and opinions, so can they, only the justifications is slightly different. What I would like to know is precisely this motivation. What drives them to be jerks and be proud about it?

I also cannot understand why such an impressive number of people fall for such immature stereotypes. And surprisingly, they are not all teenagers, age when hormones and identity quest drive anyone out of their natural mould. They are not happy treated like scum. Could it be that the pain ensuing from this makes a person feel alive?

I have heard this theory on different occasions, that pain is able to make someone feel alive. I do not like pain, but I try to be as sympathetic as I can be. I try to ask people subjecting themselves voluntarily to pain why they choose to do so. They cannot be exactly coherent, or at least, until now, I could not elicit a logical explanation. And funny thing is that I would not label them all masochists. But I do think that something is deeply wrong with them.

Following this line of thought, what could be so wrong with Lewis Hamilton that he consorts with that creature? The arrogance he is so often accused of is explained by the talent that was acknowledged so early in his life. It is natural, I think. And in theory, it is also natural for him to frolic around with objectifiable persons. But why does him? Now, Lewis, if you read this, please do not get angry or judged, be an adult and reply with scientific detachment, all rightie? ;-))

On this abstract note ends the Sunday digression.

Good night.

"Next blog"

2008-10-28T20:33:00.000+01:00

So, I thought of seeing what the "next blog" button can offer me.
Naturally, a lot of other blogs.
Nerdy blogs, family blogs, blogs with photos, sketches, art, drawings - you name it, you've got it.

But, man, oh, man - WHY do they need to put up music on their blogs? Really now... Those blogs were skipped so fast I can't even say what they were about or in what languages. I spent more time on blogs in languages I don't know...

So, note to self - music is divine, except when on blogs!

Right. Moving on.

First time - second try

2008-10-28T19:56:00.000+01:00

I do have a lot of time on my hands. Which I manage to mismanage to the best of my abilities.
So, here I go (a second time, I might add) and try to organize and make sense of my time and ideas and whims and moods.

How much of the stuff one can write on a blog can be personal? My guess is that most of it, since otherwise I think it would be just a technical one, wouldn't it?!

How much of the personal stuff should one share with folks in front of a screen?

Until now, my answer was that not much of MY ideas and opinions should be written down.
But it might be a good idea to try and keep a blog.

I am trying to justify the existence of this blog. I am afraid that I am not exactly doing a good job at it.

But since I consider it a good exercise, I will stop meddling with reasons and psycho-poopoo stuff, and just get on with it.

Here, the intro is done.