Monday, December 26, 2005


square yin yang


you keep me searching for a heart of gold...


I just could not help it. It begged to be photographed.

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Not-so happy thoughts: Holiday Sneer

I considered carefully the situation and concluded that I have been neglecting my English-speaking public. Not that you co-nationals don't speak English, but I am talking about the rest that had not the chance to understand my brilliant past emanations in that beautiful and quasi erudite Romance language which is Romanian (and it is, too!) So this is a post infused and oozing with holiday spirit. Gee, try to catch up ;-)

It's Christmas. Well, almost. And the holiday cheer is so bloody cheerful and omnipresent. I already don't see the lights in the streets - grew too accustomed to them already, and I am sick of carolers who come like moths to a lamp to my nicely decorated entrance. Speaking of which, one night my seal was particularly angry at one of the carolers. I stuck my head out the window and I could not believe my eyes! There he was - the Ghost of Christmas Past, shaggy, rugged and smelly- the garbage man- oops, sorry, the salubrity engineer.
"
Do you want to hear a carol, lady?" And damn it, I said no. I should have said yes and listened to the man. Who knows? Maybe the tobacco whiff and the beer smell would have actually brought some Xmas cheer. Maybe he was not just waiting for me to give him money. Maybe he would have preferred some fresh apples and hot strudel, or some Christmas cake and a glass of wine, in exchange for - I have no doubt in my heart- a very beautiful winter carol long studied and carefully chosen, sung in a tenor voice. And even a mezzo-soprano voice if my silly dog would have gotten its teeth in his .. tuner. Bloody beggars!...

But the carolers are something I can cope with. What really makes me sad are the Santas. Not the plump rosy-cheeked high-spirited (speaking of spirits, i could kill for some mulled wine right now) traditional and
real Santa... but the little gnomes that pose as Santa.

It brings me nothing if not sheer grief and suffering, mixed with a tinge of repulsion and pity to go at the local store to buy ... (i lack a word here, what do you usually
buy?) ..say, ... wine! And I have to face a shop assistant with a sorrow-ass attitude and frustrated with poor wages and nobody to come home to for Christmas -or every other night for that matter-, who is wearing a Santa hat over her grayish peroxidated frizz hair and baggy eyes and upside-down smile - that's enough Grinch to steal my Christmas!...

Or when I come home from work and I have to slalom between the fake Santas who hand out flyers for god-knows-what.. and when I see some skinny girl shaking in the cold with red trembling fingers shoving into my hand some piece of paper ad, with a red loose Santa outfit over her street clothes and her backpack, looking like a red hunchback, that's more of a reason to bloody hate the way all fairy tales turn into opportunities to sell and all things nice just go .. ordinary.

No wishes. Not yet. I'm going huntin' for some cheer.

later edit: the spirit is getting to me. i just found this template here and i love it :D.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Sunday, December 11, 2005


making light for Santa


pursuant to the previous post, ... it's not THAT messy, now... is it?! :-S

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Happy thoughts: Anuntz

Prietenii mei (aia 2-3) sunt destul de napastuiti de soarta cand incep eu sa imi caut casa. Mi se intampla la cateva luni in ultima vreme sa incep o cautare febrila (istericale, lacrimi, anuntul telefonic, n-ai o camera libera) insa pasiva prin rezultat (da, traiesc din oximoroane, imi sug existenta mea echilibrata si liniara din seva lor adversa si contrara precum opusurile lui Eliade [si nu, Eliade nu compunea :P]... focus, woman, focus!), care se termina plat si fasaind ca un balon dupa petrecere, strivita (nu petrecerea, cautarea) de calcaiul pietzei imobiliare de pe meleagurile mioritice.

Nu zic, nu prea ma indeamna nici ideea groaznicei schimbari de la o casa cu 2 etaje si curte cu catzel (cat un purcel) si liliac (din regnul vegetal) la o garsoniera la etajul 8. Cu balcon tip nacela si baie tip balcon. Ar fi ca si cum... nici nu stiu de ce mai caut termeni de comparatie, ideea e cat se poate de apocaliptica in cele mai simple cuvinte. Si daca eu am ajuns sa spun asta, notati, "in cele mai simple cuvinte", si fara 3 tipuri de paranteze, inseamna ca e groasa.

Dar de ce? Care sunt abominabilele circumstante care o determina pe minunata amfitrioana a acestui spatiu cvasi-cultural si mustind de spiritualitate, zee sandbox, that is, sa incerce sa isi ia delicata talpasita din cuibusorul in care a zamislit atatea manipulari fotografice si bule intelectuale (pardon, voiam sa zic perle), care v-au incantat ochii si ocazional neuronul mai bleg si mai receptiv la peroratii bombastice. Asta cred ca fusese o intrebare. Deci "?".

Ei bine, trebuie sa recunosc, acum ca ne aflam doar intre prieteni, fiecare cu stolul lui de pasarele si trupa aferenta de pitici, marturisesc,
Ma numesc ..Zeeny, am 26 de ani si locuiesc cu parintii.
Altii raman virgini pana la 40 de ani (doamne, ce film prost), eu o sa locuiesc pana la adanci batraneti cu mama-mea. O sa ajung o baba inconjurata de Everesti de carti si pisici (de ce am zis pisici? detest specia... ah, da, ajuta la imaginea de baba nebuna), chattuind toata ziua si tot prajind cd-uri cu poze si romane furgasite de pe warezuri.

(ma chinui de 10 minute sa scriu continuarea. si iata al doilea moment din acest post in care nu mai am cuvinte. sper ca este realizata gravitatea situatiei care imi inchide mie gura). Nu stiu cum sa incep, literalmente. Cred ca pentru elucidarea problemelor voi initializa procesul cu cateva mostre de behaviorism in captivitate - al meu:

situatie1: dimineatza, pe punctul de a decola catre plantatia de bumbac, la tzol semi-festiv, ca azi am o delegatie foreigneza. Isi localizeaza prada, pandeste 2-3 minute, apoi ataca.
- Esti doar in sutien pe sub taiorul ala?
Moment de stupoare. Oare nu e aprinsa lumina in camera? Oare si-a uitat ochelarii pe noptiera? Si totusi vorbeste serios.
- Nu, mama, acum ma duc la celalalt serviciu, ala de zi :-| ..... Stric bunatate de ironie pe gâscă. Ma irosesc intr-o lume meschina si care nu-mi apreciaza stralucirile de sarcasm. Adica, e drept ca bluza mea era usor cam skimpy, da' cine ma crede? Madonna? Am totusi decenta mea. (cei care ma cunosc sunt invitati sa lase comentariile caustice la vestiar)

situatie 2: las strategic plasate pe podeaua camerei, scaun si birou, diverse "itemuri" care necesita o abordare ulterioara: cd-uri de tras, cd-uri de verificat, cd-uri de ascultat, carti de citit, carti de restituit, vopseluri de insirat pe hartie, margele de insirat pe ata, modele de origami de pus in ordine, scoicile de facut windchimes, puzzle-ul de lemn de terminat, foile romanului x de indosariat si alte maruntisuri care fac viata mai frumoasa. Totul pus cu grija pe caprarii. Ma intorc acasa dupa 8 ore de tras la jugul tarii, gandindu-ma ce bine va fi sa ma refugiez in sanctuarul meu in care mana omului nu a pus niciodata piciorul. Oh, dar ce s-a intamplat? Ai schimbat cafeaua?? Unde mi-e camera?? Cine imi joaca farse donquijotesti?? Puteai la fel de bine sa mi-o zidesti si sa imi spui ca mi-au furat-o vrajitorii.

- Ti-am facut doar putina ordine, de ce trebuie sa tipi asa? Nici nu mai aveai loc sa calci pe jos!.. Normal, pentru ca eu calc pe sus. Am nevoie ca puncte de sustinere doar scaunul de la birou si patul. Podea? ce e aia? In orice caz, asta e doar inceputul. Socurile continua in zilele imediat urmatoare, cand incep sa caut lucruri la 7 jumate dimineatza, in locurile cunoscute, care insa nu se mai afla acolo, pentru ca sistemul meu de a-mi aranja posesiunile lumesti nu este suficient de bun pentru planeta mamelor order freaks.

Da, sunt nedreapta. Ea este persoana care m-a sustinut intotdeauna, oferindu-mi un sprijin neconditionat, in orice situatie sau initiativa nebuneasca, in cuvinte concise, dar pline de dragoste:
- Asculta-ma pe mine, n-o sa-ti iasa nimic.

Atunci cand eram la liceu, si ma plangeam de inutilitatea stiintelor exacte pe care trebuie sa le invat si din care nu pricepeam boaba, eu, un suflet umanist care o sa dea la teatru (vezi post anterior), si incercam sa explic de ce am 20 de absente la mate si la fizica si 5 in extemporal, reactiona foarte intelegator:
- F. cat a luat? Dar C? (F. si C. erau celelalte "premiante") Ele de ce nu au nici o absenta? Pentru ca eu o stergeam din primele zile ale primaverii in curtea liceului, sub castan, cu inca 10-15 boemi ratati plini de alcool, dor de duca si chitari si fara bani de tigari sau bere, dar shhhh! nu-i spuneti maica-mii, o sa faca atac de cord retroactiv.

De asemenea, nu cred ca e cazul sa ii spuna cineva ce varsta am, va avea un soc. Sunt sigura ca nu stie ca am trecut de primul sfert de deceniu de viata. Altfel nu inteleg comportamentul. Cred ca a avut loc o mutatie temporala si ai mei au ramas prinsi inextricabil in vremurile cand eu aveam 15 ani, culoare originala de par, moralitate, inocenta, plamani curati, vise de viitor si mult mai mult respect pentru zee elders. Poate mai putin tata, care ma intreaba cand ma marit.

Multe ar mai fi de vaicarit din partea mea, insa am sa imi inchei lamentatia cu o rugaminte. Daca aveti nevoie de un coleg de camera, de un chirias, de o bona pentru copii (de ce am zis asta?? e aceeasi situatie ca la pisici.. dar accentueaza dramatismul situatiei), de un suflet in casa (:P) - housebroken si care se duce singur la plimbare, face masaj si niste salate mortale, pick me! Asta este primul strigat de ajutor. Sper sa nu fie nevoie sa revin. :-|

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Despre morti numai de bine

Nu e chiar o fraza luminoasa de dimineatza, insa este titlul unui film care mi-a zambit rosu de pe un afis astazi, la care probabil nu m-as fi uitat daca nu mi-ar fi atras atentia numele regizorului: Claudiu Romila.

O googaliciune rapida ne ofera cateva informatii despre filmul respectiv, care va aduce, se pare, o boare de prospetime si noutate in cimetografia locala, vorbind despre "traficanti de droguri, prostituate, criminali, politisti duplicitari, politicieni corupti si fata nevazuta a societatii romanesti de astazi, afaceri murdare, reglari de conturi, coruptie si santaj". Promitzator. Nu am mai vazut demult un film care sa abordeze temele acestea demult uitate de memoria colectiva.. asta pentru ca am refuzat sa ma uit la alte filme romanesti de la "Toate panzele sus!" incoace.

M-am bucurat sa aflu ca "In final, binele triumfa, gratie eforturilor sustinute si conjugate a 2 politisti si o ziarista decisi sa castige lupta impotriva raului folosind cele mai pretioase arme pe care le au: dragostea si adevarul". O fi influenta analgezicelor, dar nu ma pot opri sa nu ma intreb cat de conjugati in dragoste erau cei doi politisti cu doamna ziarista.. of, cat de repede se prind influentele proaste. >:P
(sursa rezumatului: cinemagia)

Ei si acum, dupa invitatia de a "privi dincolo de aparente la lumea ipocrita a politicianismului romanesc", publicul cititor va dori sa afle de ce ma roade pe mine joi dimineatza soarta acestui film mai abitir ca bocancul stang (doamne fereste!, era o figura de pistil, bocanci mai comozi n-am mai avut de la.. ultima pereche). Claudiu mi-a fost profesor. In negurile timpului, pe cand Zeeny, pe vremea aceea necunoscuta decat sub numele de .. botez, haladuia prin ceatza cautarilor de identitate culturala si carieristica, a incercat sa isi urmeze un vis vechi de copilarie, si s-a gandit ca Mecca ei este ATF-ul.. the ultimate call of the limelights... teatrul.. mirajul publicului, scena. Si cabotina de mine se da in spectacol acum aici.. pentru un public restrans.. Fericitilor! :)

Ei bine, Claudiu mi-a fost profesor cand ma pregateam pentru teatru. N-am sa fac aprecieri nici asupra metodei pedagogice, nici asupra prestatiei mele (lame, oh, so lame), nici asupra descoperirilor facute in legatura cu personalitatea mea cu valente de ciuperca de padure, dar mi-am adus aminte de diminetile de sambata, cand ma smulgeam de la cursurile scolii de ghizi ca sa ma duc la orele cu Claudiu, in garsoniera de la 4, unde locuia cu sotioara, ardeleni si molcomi amandoi, ea mica, timida, insarcinata si inchisa in bucatarie pe timpul lectiilor noastre, el barbos, cu alura de capetenie daca, cu cei mai zambitori ochi din lume si cu o voce moale si placuta care facea sa zangane geamurile cand canta Maria Tanase si cand imi explica cum trebuie sa sune o soapta pe scena si cum trebuie sa arate un strigat. L-am mai vazut anul trecut, cand s-a intamplat sa isi faca aparitia chiar in institutia unde lucrez eu si l-am intalnit intamplator. Tinea de mana o pustoaica de 5-6 anisori care avea exact ochii lui, si care a refuzat sa vorbeasca cu mine.. :)

N-am sa ma duc sa vad filmul, pentru ca avant-criticile nu par deloc flatante. Asa ca
am sa mi-l tin in minte asa cum il vedeam eu la 17 ani, omul care se chinuia ingrozitor sa ma scoata din mutenia mea si sa ma smulga de sub gramada de complexe care inca ma mai turtesc, omul la care ma uitam ca la un actor de tragedie greaca, dar de care mi-era frica, pentru ca voia sa ma traga afara, la lumina, unde as fi fost ca in visele alea pe care nu le-am avut niciodata, cand te duci gol la scoala.

Si astazi m-am bucurat pentru el. :)

search bots




My dear online photoblog, diary and occasional verbal diarrhea has been visited over 3005 times. Since I installed the surveillance camera, that is. Probably half of the footprints were mine. Well, for everybody i hope this is very happy moment, which shall be celebrated together with a cupcake and a glass of champagne and by wondering again - this is my cue - what on earth are you people doing here? what brought you here in the first place? Well, the answer lies again in the surveillance cam.. let's take a look at the google/msn/yahoo queries that lead some unfortunate, unaware beings in my playground... at least they played nicely and quietly..

I'll start with the english ones and then revert to good ol' native language.. so, in case you did not know, this blog is extremely relevant in searches for "favorite haircut" .. how shallow do I seem right now?? I talk about my hair once!! after an unfortunate misfortune befallen upon my head.. literally, and now i'm labeled forever!! Not to mention of the other queer query: what do I have to do with a "hissing in ear"? Well, only the deathwish of a rabbit suffering from tinnitus .

And this concludes the fun part in english. Not so juicy, I shamefully admit :P

Partea si mai fun vine in romana. :D

Pe acest blog se pot gasi toate placerile sau viciile posibile, se pare (totusi nici un entry alcoolic inca.. dar sa nu disperam! sa asteptam cu nerabdare sarbatorile.. cine stie de unde apare vreun barman sexy cu niste retete de cocktailuri mortale? doar la figurat, hopefully)... dar pana acolo avem
- "friptura in sange", pentru care trebuie iar sa multumesc publicului cititor, care considera ca admiratul de orhidee este o indeletnicire de rumegatoare si face apologia hranei sanatoase, spalate cu o bere sanatoasa, drept pentru care eu am sa rad sanatos dar machiavelic atunci cand colesterolul va face poc, fericit si plesnind si el de sanatate.. si o sa recomand supa de spanac.. tare gustos.. :-&

- dupa atata mancare, putina miscare nu strica. Si oricum s-ar interpreta urmatoarea succesiune de cuvinte, tot la miscare ajungem, pe diferite axe.. x sau y, orizontal sau vertical: "barza gay". As vrea sa ma abtin de la comentarii in legatura cu ratiunea pentru care ar exista o barza cu adevarat gay. De asemenea, as dori sa il cunosc pe cel care cauta pe google asa ceva. Trebuie ca e o persoana tare interesanta. Poate e si o recompensa pe capul lui. Dupa putina cercetare s-a dovedit ca s-ar putea sa ma insel asupra ariei in care credeam ca se invarteste sintagma. Se pare ca e vorba de Barsa. Barcelona, adica, fotbal, miscare.. oricum, tot ciudat e.

- stiu, de-a dreptul pervers. Nu mai exista valori in tara asta. Asa este, toate sunt peste granita.. heh.. dar in directia cealalta; via google.md urmatorul query ne readuce aminte ca ne-am cam uitat radacinile si suntem cam delasatori. "sunt si imi pasa de tara mea" este una din batutele pe campii incipiente, insa promitatoare, din care rezulta orice, numai sintagma googleuita nu. Ba chiar opusul.

Abia astept continuarea >:)


update: new queries: benzi desenate cu pif si gaz ilariant

Sunday, December 04, 2005

morning smile

I stopped drinking coffee last year. I still like a good coffee now and then, but don't depend on it anymore to come back to life every morning. Now I drink green tea by the liter (which has almost as much caffeine but shhh.. you never heard it from me :) )

And when there's someone to have coffee with, I like it fun :D



ok, I agree, too much fun. Coffee with a smile(y), what an idea...




looks much better, 'aight? And by the way, the orange peel was an amazing idea.. damn it. I forgot the brandy ... i knew something was missing :-| Nevermind. There's always next Sunday morning :)

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Friday, December 02, 2005

Calin file de poveste

Mini reportaj despre a ţ-şpea editie a targului de carte Gaudeamus, in Bucale. Printre cartzulele pentru copii cu nasturei, crocodilasi si puiutzi si omniprezenta "Poveste a povestilor" a lui Creanga mai era si o editie de lux cu poze a Codului lui da Vinci, la incredibilul (I should say!) pret de 99 de lei. Noi, evident. Sau 1 milion fara 10 mii, pentru cei cu probleme de conversie.

Reporterita, simpaticuta, nu vana insa numai oferte culturale la purtator, ci si pe vizitatori... printre vizati, premierele Calin Popescu Tariceanu, zambaret nevoie mare. Reportereasa il ataca frontal: ce cumparati? ce ati dori sa cumparati? ce mai cititi, ce va intereseaza? Primul isi pastreaza sangele rece (oare cat de rece?) si ii spune fetisoarei ca din pacate timpul nu ii prea permite sa mai citeasca (sounds fair, si de aici incepe SF-ul), dar ca il asteapta pe noptiera vreo 12 carti de atacat seara la culcarica... De ce sa nu facem praf budinca instant de cacao daca putem? Şpicheritza, isteata, se repede la ocazie precum vulturashul la... pateul titanic sau la rochitza albastra a Monicai (cum care?) si intreaba suav, abia abtinandu-si hohotul belphegoric:

- Imi puteti spune 3 titluri?

In acest moment neuronul de garda incepe sa fie putin alertat, sare in picioare, isi indreapta cravata, drege glasul a-hmmm... mmm... err... umfla putin obrajii, adancit intr-o evidenta activitate pansanta, precum trestia...

- Macar 2? (vocea incepe sa tradeze adevarata natura a reporteresei from hell)

Neuronul singular incepe o miscare browniana (nu, asta nu l-a dus cu gandul la nici un best-seller) din colt in colt... fir-ar a draq de treaba, acum s-au gasit toti sa plece si sa ma lase singur... offff... lunga mai e pauza asta de masa... hai, o idee, cat de mica... Da, stati, ca va spun, dar trebuie sa imi adun gandurile, sa vizualizez noptiera, sa selectez atent din cele 12 titluri pe cele care m-ar face sa dau bine, nu pot sa zic ca mi-a luat nevasta-mea Alchimistul lu' Coelho, or sa zica astia, uite, domne', vrea mai mult aur... nici limbajul trupului pentru oameni de afaceri, ca uite ce a patit onor predecesorul... umppffff...

- Poate ne puteti spune totusi 1 titlu?! cade nemiloasa, dar plina de condescendenta intrebarea.

Hai ca te descurci, ce nevoie ai de ailalti, dupa ce ca nimeni n-a prevazut starea de posibil asediu intr-un loc atat de periculos din punct de vedere cultural, macar sa n-o facem de ovina pana la capat.. hai, unul... mai cunoscut, ceva de impact... un clasic, Eminescu... las-o balta, cine dracu' citeste Eminescu seara in afara de profa de romana din liceu? Si mai zic astia maine in ziare ca am citit Calin nebunul si nu da bine... ceva mai cu rezonanta... Şexpir... da... Hamlet! nu! pana acum trebuia sa il fi citit... si e prea multa tradare acolo... o comedie, asta e cel mai sigur. "Cum va place"... tot nu, iar or sa se duca cu gandul la Bombo... of! nimic nu mai poti sa citesti fara sa se interpreteze!!


- Imblanzirea scorpiei! Si rasetul palid si transpirat se stinse departe de microfonul malefic.

Sunt poate una dintre cele mai apolitice fiinte pe care le cunosc, nu am nimic personal cu dl. C.P.T, si am pentru dumnealui un dram de respect indiferent pe care il nutresc oricarui necunoscut care nu da vreo dovada de tzoparlanie si nu imi sta in fire sa atac direct persoane, doamne pazeste, insa momentul a fost rizibil. (Comic, domne', comic!) Asa cum zicea amicu' Will (bardu, domne', nu Smith), "Oh, I am stabbed with laughter!!"... da' asta-i din Love's labour's lost, mai aveti pana acolo.

ka-poof


This should answer the Lektor's question at my post below regarding the supremacy of fire or water. the extraordinary quality of these 2 elements is that they put each other out (which is good in either case, since a ballance must be maintained and any form of excess is not good - take you for instance after a long walk in a drizzling cold november rain - so i'm a Gn'R fan :P - sit by a fire and it shall draw out not only the water in your clothes, but also any possible humidity in your body, and the coldness characteristic to water) ......

[please excuse me while I listen to the voice of reason in my head, yes I do have one - one voice of reason, i mean. Heads, I have more of those] Stop babbling woman, people don't care about your yinyangish mumbo jumbo (speaking of which, did you know that Mumbo Jumbo is a mandingo name of an idol meant to scare women into submission?!) [you might have noticed that the voice of reason died a lame death and the etymology freak voice entered the scene]...

what on earth was i saying?! right.. fire vs water.. so: when i get the first chance to test the "fireworks" settings of my camera and they go hisss instead of bang and die out in 2 seconds because of the rain and obstruct my photographic activity out there so that i cannot show you back here but humble reproductions of what could have been, i guess we should all agree that my propensity for rambling has reached a new peak today. Thank you, everybody, good night.

Thursday, December 01, 2005


Romania's National Day, Dec. 1st, celebrated in front of the National Theater in Bucharest. Despite the rain, people came to see the lights and fireworks (more about that later), to listen to some music, see people sing and dance (no, it was not Gene Kelly) and... that was about it.


...and then somebody pushed zee button and turned on the lights :)

1 Decembrie


La multi ani, romanilor! :)

Wednesday, November 30, 2005


I went to the circus (see pics below, no mood for story-telling) and was appalled by the crowd of dwarfs yelling and yanking all sorts of colorful and retine piercing sources of rgb lights. Yes, I'm talking about little children with toys that lit up. :P

What i actually had in mind after buying a bunch of optic fibers look-alikes was to poke the kid in front of me with them every time her bunny baloon would occupy my whole horizon and sight down at the arena. fortunately the god of all inflatable rabbits decided his mission on earth was done and decided to take him in bunny heaven, with a slow but i am sure not so painful a death as its life with the jumping brat had been... so he died.. starting with a hissing ear.

So here are some genuine tests made in the darkroom (which is my room, with no lights on) with the psychedelic fibers.. trippy effects, eh? :) .. no photomanipulation.. this is reality in RGB!


RGB 2


RGB 3

Monday, November 21, 2005

Hair

I've always loved long hair.. I didn't always have short hair, like now - some years ago I used to look quite.. girly, with my long hair.. I was like an elfish forest fairy.. an overweight, oversized, undertall and definitely not fair fairy. When I wanted to look like a school girl I used to wear 2 long braids tied with ribbons, and bangs on the forehead. Sometimes I wore it in a ponytail, but most of the times I just let it loose, flowing, fluttering and dancing in the breeze, like a host of golden daffodils, like a wave of copper silk, making traffic stop when the sun came out.. But some 3 years ago I just got sick of all the Wella and Taft mush. And I cut it short and dyed it black.

Ok.. happy days until by accident (my aunt had a bad scissors day) I realised that my favorite haircut implies uneven locks, hairgel and some electricity. In one word, spikes
Ok, not really like that, but you get the idea. I wanted not to have to worry about it anymore and be able to get out of the shower, shake like a wet dog and comb it with the towel. The hair, not the dog. I lived in approximate bliss until my aunt declared herself not capable of re-making that same mistake again with my hair.

And this is the begining of my saga... [enter me, with a horrible hair day - someone start the moricone tape] - the quest for the hairdresser/"stylist" who will be wise enough to rediscover that immemorial secret: my spikes.

So my mom tells me "go to this nice lady at the local beauty parlour, who made me look like a hedgehog with a perm" (so I added some stuff here.. it's for visual strength) "and ask her to do your hair". And me, in my immense reverence and obeisance regarding the advice of our elders, I stupidly went.

And now I grieve. Because the lady (very nice, I have to give her that), had no idea how to follow instructions and now I am a hybrid between the Bangles, Tina Turner and a loving octopus . All I ever wanted were some freakin spikes! turned on the outside , not on the inside, woman!. And now we must part, for I must grieve. In the bathroom, with a razorblade in my hand... and loads of hair mousse, gel, and hairspray. Wish me luck. [exit fairy stage left]

Saturday, November 19, 2005



forest speed


fake cabbage with fake snowflakes.. all the snowing last night was just a big scam which turned into clammy puddles of mud


greek vegetable salad - costume party for the lilac leaves.. somebody bring the cheese!!


caught in the inextricable and inescapable net in an inexorable grip


closeup.. not as close as I wished though..


cheerful spot on the gray sky- it's taken from an office at the 6th floor, whose inhabitants are so lucky as to have a balcony, looking not only over the church here, but also over the rest of the city center skyline. My office is down below. Oh, so down. At the bottom of the concrete pit 2 pics below


looking as if freshly zapped from the post-war tears, 7 colorful, crowded, alive, messy storeys


first flight lesson - never look down

It's winter fall

...red skies are gleaming

...

So quiet and peaceful
Tranquil and blissful
There's a kind of magic in the air
What a truly magnificent view
A breathtaking scene
With the dreams of the world
In the palm of your hand



Friday, November 18, 2005

Snowmen fall from heaven unassmbled

Just a quick thought for today... it's... SNOWING!! :)

So prepare your winter boots and mittens and read the "how to build a purrrfect snowman in 10 easy steps" guide, 'cause it's... SNOWING!! .. and Christmas is just 5 weeks away... :)

oh, and did I mention it's snowing? :D

Sunday, November 13, 2005


i am sick of autumn photos. i want snow. and Santa.


just an alley.. in the campus across the street. i liked the scattered leaves sticking to the wet pavement.

Saturday, November 12, 2005


those magnificent women and their weird ufo-looking jewelry :)


devout fan.

The ground beneath her feet


The circle is almost complete (thanks, I., for the tip, I'll start my noble quest for it), because it's mine, finally mine!!

This book has a long story.. I first started to read it 3 years ago, at the time when I was finishing college... and together with it the yearly subscription at the British Council in Bucharest. And the last books I happened to borrow were "Midnight's Children" and "The Ground Beneath Her Feet". I devoured in a couple of days the first one, I did not breathe, I did not sleep, I absolutely fell in love with that book. And then, 2-3 days before I had to return the books, i started the other one too. I could only read one fifth or something of it, and since I was a fresh graduate and even fresher unemployed, I thought I'd not renew my library subscription before my first paycheck (between you and me, I still haven't - I learned to read directly from the monitor lately and I developed in the past years a crave to have books..) ... so I sighed not knowing how Vina's life turned out with or without Ormus, until last year, when I accidentally found it in a bookstore in Budapest. And seized it with my whole being.

Two months later I left it at somebody's place. I had barely begun to read it. I have not seen it since. But now it's mine again.. all mine, my precious.. (incidentally coming from the same bookshop in Budapest :)) Just to let you know, I'm never giving or lending books again. Don't even bother asking.


fabric close-up (it's NOT wallpaper :P ).. it actually looks like this


later edit: since all my visitors at the playground are men, with one great exception (hi there ;) ), I am asking them to ignore the jewelry, shoes and silk photos, definitely of no interest for a man, at least in still life constructions, and kindly asking them to revert to the other... what are you guys doing here anyway?! :P