Rainbow Child

They picked that silly black cat instead of me. *sigh*

There, you can’t see its face anymore, can you?

Oh, stop it, stop it, stop it!!

I’ve been thinking more and more about leaving Bucharest. Oh, the reasons are countless. My Dream City didn’t turn out to be so dreamy after all. And it’s not only it’s fault, I’m not saying that, it’s just that I had a completely different picture in my mind of what it was going to be like. Disappointed? Maybe.

I hate the person it has turned me into. Yes, I’ve always been a bit snobbish and incredibly superficial, but I haven’t been paranoid and most of all, I haven’t been a man-hater before, or, if you prefer the lighter version, a misanthrope. I loved people so much, every weekend I didn’t go out was a tragedy and now I can’t stand people anymore, I bloody hate most of them and as for going out, hah, you’d have to drag me out of the house first.

And I’m thinking about the reasons I should stay where I am and only one pops into my mind: work. Yeah, as if I bloody can’t wait to work 8h/day, 5day/week. I know I’ll eventually have to do it, but I’m not looking forward to that. So, besides work, what else is keeping me in this city where I feel depressed 90% of the time? Let me think… still thinking… hm, I’ve got it: NOTHING! So then, why don’t I go after university is over?

Most probably I will. A psychiatrist could help me, but I don’t really want that. This is between me and Bucharest and it has proven to be more than I can take. I’ve thought about where to move and Timisoara sounds awesome. I mean, I love the place, I love the people (well, at least some ) and it’s such a civilised place! It has Carturesti and Humanitas – I won’t run out of books – it has some book release, it has Schimb de carti; and I bet it has a lot more than I know of. And I could come to concerts and other very special events back in Bucharest, is not as if I went in another country or something. As for work, right now I’m open to any kind of suggestions and any kind of job. I love books, I love working with them, but I can’t be like this anymore.

Maybe I’m stupid, maybe it’s all my head and Timisoara will prove to be a complete disaster. Maybe it doesn’t matter where you live and what you see when you wake up in the morning and go to the window. Maybe it doesn’t matter what kind of people you meet every day on the street. Like I’ve said, maybe it’s all in my head. But if I’m still alive after 3 years of staying here, I think 2 years in Timisoara won’t kill me. And after I finish the master’s degree (I’ve already check them out and found one I might want to do) and I don’t like it there, I can always come back here and give it another try. But I have to do something, really do something about this. Cause I can’t go on with one day out of ten being perfectly fine and loving this city, and the rest being miserable and wanting to kill everyone.

It’s not set in stone, nothing’s been really decided yet, but I talked to Mum and she supports me whatever I want to do and that makes me feel a little bit better. It’s all up to me it seems and the more I think about this the more I want to go.

Girl sees cute-indie dude at the metro. They make eye contact. Girl sees dude again at the metro. They make eye contact again. Girl keeps thinking about dude. If girl sees dude again should she do something? And what could she do that’s not totally embarrassing?

Nu sunt buna prietena cu cacaoa. Nici ciocolata nu mai mananc asa multa. Urasc inghetata cu cacao, torturile cu ciocolata multa, budinca cu cacao si cam orice lucru dulce care are in componenta sa cacao. Dar in Viena m-am indragostit de un unt de corp cu cacao. L-am cumparat.

Cred ca l-am folosit de vreo doua ori pana acum; nu ma omor dupa creme de corp, dar asta imi place cum miroase. Odata s-a nimerit sa port o rochie care imi lasa o parte din umeri descoperita. Ma imbracasem special pentru un “fustangiu”, care, in cele din urma, nu a mai aparut.

Si cum stateam in crasma, cu umerii descoperiti, si vorbeam cu lumea de acolo, am simtit ca cineva… ma miroase. M-am intors incet si m-am uitat la el:

- Ce faci?
- Te miros. Mirosi bine. Mirosi a…
- A ce?
- A… cofetarie

Cred ca e cel mai frumos compliment pe care mi l-a facut cineva pana acum

In this magical weekend I had 2 exams, one which was really magical. In fact, it was so magical that my poor hand hurt like hell after I finished translating all those magical texts.

Meli made for me a magical pinapple cake. It was reaaaaally good! The we had a magical walk on Lipscani, I bought a really magical tea from Bernschutz & Co. – honeydew melon and pineapple – one of the most magical teas ever! We also took some magical pictures and I bought a magical bookchair for the books I’m working on, cause I don’t want to hurt them anymore.

And yesterday it was THE magical night. Meli and I drank almost 3 bottles of magical wine and we got magically drunk and we talked about everything. And laughed a lot. R. was really nice and understanding and I’m glad he still has a good opinion about myself. He and Meli look so magically together

Anyways, then I had this magical dream of which I can’t remember anything except it was another magical nightmare, only now they happen so often that I simply don’t care about them anymore, and now I’m stuck with this magical hangover that won’t go away.

Totally magical weekend!

Ps. I should stick to my magical resolution not to drink more than a glass of wine. My poor, poor head!