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


Avert your eyes.. heaven's gonna burn' em


ultramarine bronze


wax' n 'glass - the stuff dolls are made of


***


***

Friday, November 11, 2005

Pretty (good person)

I have noticed a trend among grown-up fellow bloggers to post the results of fun little test found over the net.. such as.. "my nerd score". .... So I'm gonna do it too!! :D

What would you be in a RPGame?

Mystic Theurge
29% Combativeness, 36% Sneakiness, 82% Intellect, 52% Spirituality
Brilliant and spiritual! You are a Mystic Theurge!

Score! You have a prestige class. A prestige class can only be taken
after you’ve fulfilled certain requirements. This may mean that you’re
an exceptionally talented person, but it probably doesn't.

The Mystic Theurge is a combination of a cleric and a mage. They
can cast both arcane and divine spells, and are good at both, making
them pretty terrifying on the battlefield. They have more raw
spellpower than just about any other class.

You're both intelligent and faithful, but not violent or deceitful. I guess that makes you a pretty good person.



My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 29% on Combativeness
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 55% on Sneakiness
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 79% on Intellect
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 52% on Spirituality
Link: The RPG Class Test



Now, I totally realize this is just as geeky and childish as the nerd score, but Eddie started it :P

.... this was definitely not the 79% intellect speaking ... *sigh



Thursday, November 10, 2005

Le temps qui reste

In weekend am fost la film. Dar asta se stie.. doua posturi mai jos pentru newbies (hihihi..right!). Cum un bilet din weekend imi oferea avantajul unui alt film gratuit saptamana asta, m-am gandit sa profit. Si ca intotdeauna cand vrei sa profiti, it backfired. (In paranteza fie spus, asta merge numai la oameni mici, marunti, neobisnuiti cu marele mecanism al profitului, care merg la doua filme la pret de unul. Ca mine.) Filmuletul pe care l-am vazut aseara, "Timpul ramas" ca sa ma dau mare ca stiu traduce 4 cuvinte, este, zic cei care nu or fi cinefili de duminica, precum yours truly, "an average movie from a great director".

Acum.. habar n-am, in crasa mea incultura cinematografica, cine e regizorul Francois Ozon, si sunt convinsa ca nici el nu stie cine sunt eu. Nu i-am vazut lucrarile, nu-mi spun nimic titlurile. Aici e moment de mea culpa si cenusa in cap - daca atunci cand ma duc la librarie dupa vreo carte, ma uit in rafturi, cu gatul delicat frant pe un umar (apoi brusc pe celalalt, pentru ca imbecilii de tipografi nu au un standard de tiparire a titlului unei carti, asa ca il citesti o data pe dreapta, de 3 ori pe stanga, pana ajungi sa arati din spate ca un clovn cu capul pe arc, proaspat sarit din cutie).. dar sa nu batem campii.. zic, atunci cand aleg cartea, ma uit dupa autor. Cand aleg filmul, ma uit dupa poveste, iar regizorul ocupa un neonorabil loc la galerie. Cu fooaarte putine exceptii (Almodovar ar fi unul.. si deocamata singurul). Asa... deci ca sa fie clar - m-am dus la film ca sa nu stau acasa si basta. Habar n-aveam ce film era si nici nu imi pasa.

Constat in primul rand o imbunatatire a publicului - atat cantitativ, cat si calitativ - sala plina si tineri (din care un sfert nepunctuali. Strategic plasata la capat de rand, din proprie initiativa, am facut genoflexiuni de cinshpemii de ori pana s-au calmat toti). In opozitie, la primul film pe care l-am vazut din festivalul asta, sambata, erau in sala 14 oameni, toti veniti in grupuri ordonate de cate 1. De asemenea, au mai fost remarcabile varsta (in mare parte over 50) si genul predominant - femei 99% (nu sunt sigura daca era vreun barbat, insa era teribil de total cent-procentul asa ca am incercat sa indulcesc situatia {in acest context trebuie sa deschid o alta paranteza: statisticile demografice zic cum ca rata barbati-femei e de 1-1 .. cu 0.7% mai multa femeie intr-un cuplu dat. Cum se face atunci ca peste tot sunt numai valuri de muieri? Unde sunt barbatii? In scoli? Spitale? Muncesc pe rupte non-stop? haida de!.. ma rog.. nu vreau neaparat sa elucidez problema, insa frustrarea mea si-a scos un moment nasul la lumina})

Sper ca in acest moment este clar ca nu am chef sa vorbesc despre film, care a fost icky, ci doar folosesc ocazia sa bat campii. Cu gratia-mi caracteristica. Sau nu. Si totusi.. hai.. macar o parere inteligenta.. cu pretentie de comentariu.. Storyline-ul este similar cu Philadelphia , doar ca personajul principal -also gay- nu e avocat, ci fotograf (lucru care din pacate a reiesit doar ici colo si spre dezamagirea mea nu am putut fura nimic din secretele meseriei), si nu moare de sida, ci de cancer. Blah..

De semnalat aparitia septuagenara a lui Jeanne Moreau, in rol de bunicuta destupata si trendy care doarme naked. Cu nepotul. Care e gay, dar am mai zis. Cateva momente demne de retinut.. Umm.. hmm.. da. Cliseul cu barul gay in toaletele si catacombele caruia toata lumea se bestializeaza. Si sodomizeaza. Ma rog, nu ca asta ar fi cliseu in contextul respectiv, ci o necesitate, si, evident, o placere. Vorbesc in numele lor, ca sa fie clar. Si clatinandu-ma pe teren nesigur, am sa sar pe .. nisip miscator, pentru ca trebuie sa mai mentionez si o scena intima destul de expresiva intre cei doi personaji masculini.. pacat de pustiul in supporting role, Sascha, care arata .. care arata. Si gata, acum sa mai comentam nitel pe text...

Aflam ca personajul, sa ii zicem Romain, are cancer generalizat si ca il mai duce pe picioare (la propriu) 3 luni. Ok... qu'est-ce que je vais faire dans le temps qui reste ... Pai nu mare lucru, ca realizarea e predominant vizuala si nu zice mare lucru de tormentu' interior si de disperarea care trebuie sa fi fost cat se poate de autentica.. In rest, ocazionale flashbackuri din copilarie, un 3-some destul de penibil dar cu scop caritabil, pentru a face un copil chelneritei cu sot impotent (da, stiu ca era gay, dar daca tot mai ai 3 luni de trait ai dreptul sa faci si ceva nebunesc in viata, go wild, get crazy, ya know?), apoi se duce la plaja ca sa stea la soare si sa inoate. Lucru pe care il face, si aici se rupe filmul. La propriu, ca se termina. Am avut un sentiment invers celui de la AI-ul lui Spielberg, cand, dupa peste 2 ore de trairi maxime alaturi de micul robotzanc sentimental si sidekick-ul sub forma de ursulete mecanic, in sfarsit toata lumea moare (da, da-mi si mie un servetel. Nu, imi curge pur si simplu nasul) si ecranul se intuneca, yes!! mai prind ultimul 300 spre casa, si apoi se face lumina.. tot pe ecran, unde scrie.." 2000 years later" (reactia publicului cenzurata, insa cred ca s-a mentionat numele doamnei Spielberg senior)...

O ultima doleanta. Se poate sa se verifice la usa cinema-ului persoanele over senzitive si sa nu fie lasate sa intre? Nu ma refer la cei plangaciosi, ci la aia care rad din orice. Romain isi repeta in oglinda speech-ul de "te iubesc mult, dar o sa mor si vreau sa pleci", lumea rade. Cand trage o linie sa isi faca curaj inainte de intalnirea cu familia, parca s-ar uita toti la giumbushlucuri atat de mare e haiul. Cel putin demoazela din spatele meu cred ca a fost constant sub actiunea unui gaz ilariant. O fi fost ceva in aer... Eu ma duc acolo sa sufar si ei vin la divertisment... ntzntz!...

Da.. all in all nu am adormit la film, deci ii recunosc vagile merite (de fapt eu speram la ceva mai multe situatii conflictualo-lacrimogene - i'm a sucker for drama). In schimb am adormit in autobuz. La capat. Unde soferul a stins lumina, a inchis pravalia si a iesit la o tigare si o sueta cu controloarea de trafic. Iar eu dormeam in pace si onor leganata in ritmuri de DePhazz... Ceea ce va dorim si dvs.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Fara nici un scop

Imi place sa zambesc.. larg !...desi se spune ca provoaca riduri (in paranteza fie spus, din cand in cand compensez cu o partida de plans - allegedly destinde ridurile!- eu si perna.. one-on-one) .. In cate o dimineata –rar !- ma trezesc putin mai la viata, si scot capul din punga mea de hartie maron si mai « ciulesc » un ochi de frate (mai) mare in jur.. si ce vad ?!

Vad la banca, in spatele unui ghiseu, o domnisoara semi intepata care cred ca a avut o noapte destul de scurta, luandu-ma dupa cantitatea de kohl cu care isi accentuase fara sa isi dea seama cearcanele.. in timp ce ea imi tasteaza cu constiinciozitate codul numeric, toate datele din buletin, numarul de la pantofi si cel de la cupa de sutien, imi zboara privirea prin spatele ei.. spune-i idee preconceputa, dar vad exact la ce ma asteptam, desi sunt intr-o banca moderna in miez de bucuresti: pe un birou troneaza un sandvis singuratic, langa un crin superb infipt cu tot cu amabalaj intr-un borcan gol de maioneza. autohtona.

Ma intorc la serviciu.. emotia traita la banca ma trimite urgent acolo unde si imparatul se duce singur. La toaleta, rola de hartie era pana acum legata cu sarma.. de-a dreptul penibil. Un ochi estet, insotit de o mana inventiva, a inlocuit insa sarma cu un electrod de sudura.. indoit la amandoua capetele.. ocazie fericita cu care a subtilizat si hartia, lasand doar sulul de carton.. Imi abtin chemarea si ma intorc in birou dupa pachetul de servetele personale. Toaleta, biroul meu si cladirea troneaza si ele, alaturi de banca de mai sus, in mijlocul capitalei.
Iesind din cabinetul numarul 1, unisex, ma desfat cu privelistea unor orhidee rasa comuna (adica din alea muove gasibile peste tot), vreo 6-7 fire, facute ikebana intr-o sticla de plastic taiata pe jumate.

...
Autobuz plin dupa o statie in dreptul unei piete. In fata mea un domn in varsta isi cauta bilet in poseta de dama care ii atarna pe umar...
...
Acum ceva timp eram la un curs pentru civil servants (daca spun functionar public am un sentiment de caragiale pe care nu pot sa mi-l reprim...).. intra in vorba cu mine o doamna proaspat intrata in varsta a ..2-a, sa zicem, aranjata cu grija pana la cel mai mic detaliu.. se ridica sa mai ceara o cafea - cu zaharina!! - si remarcand ca in ciuda temperaturii care pe mine m-a facut sa imi iau manusi, ea este incaltata cu pantofi decoltati si "fara spate".. imi fuge privirea si pe ochiul ciorapilor de lycra.. si el dat bir cu fugitii in sus, pe pulpa, in zone mai calde probabil...


si zambetul meu, rostogolit toata ziua prin zapezile vremurilor noastre, se transforma pana seara intr-un hohot de ras sanatos... care ingrasa ;-)

Monday, November 07, 2005

at the flickies

This weekend has not been a total waste of time, surprisingly... they usually are. And that was because I found a new way of avoiding my life… by watching others’ :)... i.e. I went at the movies :D!

Actually I found out by chance that for more than a week Bucharest will host the French Film Festival – well, actually I have seen the cocky mascot everywhere, but my defense system usually rejects huge poultry images hanging on buildings… So, I was saying that on Saturday morning I got up at 8 a.m. (despite my better judgment and good will) and looked in the programme... it sounded quite interesting... Lettre d’amour zoulou... So I went. And wished I hadn’t. The film was spoken in English and Zulu, subtitles were in French and in Romanian (since they did not fit on the screen, the latter were projected lower, on the wall, and occasionally on the floor :) Not worth it. I don’t even remember the plot... all I remember is that the deaf girlie in the supporting role was usually dancing in front of the mirror or when her grandma was singing … :-| I had no idea deaf people can even imagine music... let alone try and coordinate the body to it... however imaginary it be.

But one bad cinematographic experience was not enough. After the matinee, I thought I’d occupy my evening too... this time with a French movie, which also sounded interesting (note to self: stop judging movies by posters and titles!) : Rois et reine. I have no idea what it was about because I fell asleep in the monotonous mumble of two Englishmen behind me who were enjoying themselves learning some new words in Romanian (from the subtitles) - I think I yielded to Hypnos right after the vocabulary lesson had reached “bleeding diarrhea”. I woke up hoping I had slept thoughout the biggest part, but my luck was that it lasted 2,5 long and painful hours. Don’t ask me why I did not leave. I guess I was like a prairie rodent in front of the snake… stupefied. I did notice though (it’s a conclusion drawn from those 2 movies only) that cinema productions outside the American continent do not use actresses with beautiful breasts. Not even “nice” for that matter. And have long forgotten the advantages –esthetically speaking – of wearing a bra. Apart from this insightful remark, I can only say that despite the fact that they were also pretty ugly (read “normal-looking people”) , the 2 leading actresses were quite good.

On Sunday I persevered in my quest for enjoyment and I went – again, in the evening – to see la Marche de l’Empereur – the french version. Rarely have I seen a documentary film so artistically conceived. The images are amazing, the plot is beautiful (there is a plot, there is no scientific data) the actors are not one or two but a whole colony of emperor penguins, and I don’t give a damn if there are people who raise their voices agains this film because it attaches human emotions to bird behaviour, but I saw two penguins making love there. :) For such opinions and other flamebait, check out imdb comments.

So… what should I see tonight?..

edit: nothing interesting today. will have to make do with personal video library..

Sunday, November 06, 2005


heading home


heading home 10 feet further

Accidentally stumbling over (not a pun) a Rugby game


(quite) orderly scrummage. I've always wondered.. if you grab the ball from that position, don't you just fall flat on your nose? (see answer in next photo)


now, i love a fine scrummage just like the next person, but this is too much. is that just a pretext to grope each other?!


miiii [slow motion shout] IIIIINEEE !!...