Rainbow Child

Every Saturday morning I go to the market. Although I seldom cook, I need to know that I have fresh vegetable in the fridge. So we went shopping and on the way home I saw a woman who was selling blueberries, or so I thought. Anyways, I bought a bag of blueberries (she confirmed they were the right fruits) and went home.

I put the groceries in the fridge and proceeded to wash the blueberries. When I tried one I was shocked to find it had a core. Wtf? I tried another one: didn’t taste like a blueberry and it still had a core! I was getting angrier and angrier. I called Mum, told her about the core, about how they look like blueberries but they’re not, how that woman lied to my face and sold me something else! She laughed and told me that what I had bought are some cheap good for nothing berries. FUCK!

So I grabbed the bag and stormed out of the house. The anger had now reached its peak, I was literally fuming! I got to the lady who sold me the blueberries and we had a surrealistic talk:

- Hello, can you tell me what berries are these?
- Yes, they are ???berries.
- But I specifically asked you if they were blueberries and you said yes.
- You can make jam out of them or liquor!
- That’s not the point! I wanted blueberries and these are not blueberries!
- No, they’re not.
- Then why did you tell me they were blueberries?
- Have you tasted them? They are good! You can make jam out of them or liquor!
- I WANTED BLUEBERRIES!

In the end she agreed to give me back my money and I gave her back her fucking berries. On the way back I calmed a bit but I still can’t get over the fact that people would do anything for money. Or maybe she was just deranged and thought that I just wanted berries, no matter if they were blue or not… And again, I am so pissed that people think they can fool me. They look at me and probably see a teenager and they think that I don’t have anything to say, that my opinions don’t count, that they can fool me and I won’t do anything against it… I should lock myself inside cause I hate what’s going on outside!

On most days I hate Bucharest. I hate the crowds of ugly people, smart-asses, people who hit you with their bags, step on your foot or push their way out/in the metro without caring, without looking back and, of course, without apologizing. I try to stay out of their way, to find a corner in the metro and read and ignore them but I can’t. I can’t because they don’t let me: they always talk loud to each other, bump into you, look at what you’re wearing, how your hair looks etc. They don’t let you be! One day I’m going to lose it and… and… I don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be pretty, that’s for sure!

On other days I am at peace with this city. No, I don’t love it anymore, it’s more like a medicine I know I have to take in order to stay alive but that doesn’t mean that I enjoy taking it. It’s sour and it makes me feel bad but on the long run it keeps me alive.  It’s a necessary evil.

(more…)

As this schizophrenic springs goes on – one day lulling me outside with sunshine, warm weather and trees in bloom, the next day making me cut my wrists cause it’s raining and it’s cold – I find it harder and harder going to bars. Well, I go but I don’t stay there for too long. Yesterday evening we met at Unirea and we wanted to eat something on Lipscani. We entered a bar and then immediately left because it was too full of cigarette smoke. The same thing happened with three other bars until we finally decided to just pick one, eat fast and go back home. I hate that fucking smoke and I hate these fucking polices that are against non-smokers. Fine, you have an addiction, good for you, but why the fuck do I have to suffer because of it? Why do my clothes and hair have to stink because of it? Why do my lungs have to be affected because of it?

And the same ‘fuck you’ goes to people who talk loudly on their mobile phones. No, dear, I don’t give a fuck about what you’re going to eat tonight and I don’t care what he said. Don’t they realise how pathetic it is to shout out loud your problems, idiocies, gossips etc? Shut the fuck up, idiots!

I need a holiday and maybe some Xanax.

…is a good cup of tea. But I can’t cause I’m not allowed to. I have to take some iron supplements and because of that I can’t have real tea, just herbal infusions. I’m OK with herbal infusions, but I’ve been drinking so many cups of that wannabe tea that I’m sooo sick and tired of it. On the other hand, I want to see some improvements at the end of the month and I know it’s for my best. As you can see, I’m being reasonable. It must be because I’m getting older.

Yesterday was such a long day. I had an exam, but that was just fine. I love that professor! She is so nice and open-minded and she reads only contemporary literature – yep, just my type. Some people are simply right for what they are doing, while others… Don’t even get my started! I am so furious when I see that the same rules don’t apply to all of us, that some people get a special treatment… It just makes me sick. ‘Some animals are more equal than others’ totally applies to my MA program.

All the bars were full yesterday. It was very difficult to find a table for four on Lipscani. Most of  the bars have high prices, are full of smoke and have shitty music. And still, they are full. Going out is getting more and more frustrating. I’m considering buying lots of bottles of white beer and enjoying them at home. Maybe we’ll even buy a board game (the puzzle wasn’t such a good idea). Or maybe we’ll reserve a table in Absintherie Sixtina every time we want to go out and then we won’t be forced to drink overpriced beer in some horrible bar.

It’s difficult to choose what to read next. I’m so moody and so… I can’t focus on anything. One moment I’m in bed, then I’m washing the dishes, then I’m reading again, then I’m checking my mails… I’m so jumpy. I need some pills to calm down

I guess that I’m anxious about the future and that’s why I can’t enjoy the present (so cheesy, I know). At least I don’t have nightmares anymore. Also, I’m able to get up before 9 o’clock in the morning, which is quite something for me. What do I do with all that time? I guess I worry it away. I need to change something. Maybe the length of my hair. Maybe my hair colour. Maybe I need to discover new bands or new authors. I don’t know what I need, but hopefully I’ll find out soon enough.

I don’t know why I’m so keen on going home. I almost count the days till I’ll be there. Yeah, there are some good friends who are waiting for me to go back and, of course, my parents are there, but every time I’m there I end up bitching about that town. The first two days are blissful, then hell starts. I still haven’t buried the hatched. There’s still a very powerful love-hate relationship between me and the town.
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His little sister is visiting us this weekend and I should keep away from alcohol. Last time she was here I kind of exaggerated and I don’t want her to think I’m an alcoholic The only problem is that I’m not in the mood for cooking, but I should prepare something. If you have any vegetarian ideas, please share them.
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It’s always magical when I get to see my favourite bands playing live. Last night I saw Alexandru Andrieș. The show itself was great! The only problem were the spectators. Jeez, some people are really stupid. How can you arrive one hour late at a concert which is held at a cinema, where there are seats and everyone has a seat number? How you can let your kids run around and around and around (during the show, of course) like they are on a playground? People like that should be banned forever from going to events like these.
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Talking about Christmas, I have no idea what I want. I mean, I can think of some things which I would like to have, but there is nothing that I desperately want to have. OK, I desperately want more books, but that’s simply because a bookaholic never has enough books. I think that this lack of interest in… material things means that I already have everything I want and, for once in my lifetime, I’m happy with that. I say it’s a good thing.