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.

I am so used to second hand clothes and buying new stuff from sales that I think it’s preposterous to pay 10-20-30 lei more for something I really like. If it doesn’t have ‘on sale’ written on it or if it’s not 50-60 lei, I won’t buy it. And I don’t think it’s because I value money, I think it’s because I’m cheap. I don’t even let Mum buy expansivish things for me. I’d like to be more impulsive, to like myself more and thus allow myself more nice things.

When it comes to good food, I think I enjoy both the taste and the people I share it with. Now that I’m a full-time working class hero, I really appreciate the weekend, especially Friday evening. There’s nothing better than to have an unfiltered beer (or two, three), talk about silly things and make plans (which probably won’t come true, but who cares?) for the next two days.

And sometimes unpredictable things happen, like your key breaking in your bike lock and having to leave your bike overnight at the restaurant. I was so relived when we got there today and found our bikes safe and sound! Talking about bikes, I want to sell my new bike. Yup, so soon. I only rode it twice but I don’t feel good on it. It’s very comfy, it’s pretty but I don’t feel good on it. With my old bike it was love at first ride. I know it sounds cheesy, but I was one with it. Even now, when I bike to work every morning I feel so good, it’s what I need, it’s the perfect bike for me. So, if you know anyone who’s interested in buying a bike, maybe you could tell them about my bike.

It’s the second time this summer we’ve been to the park and I don’t want to make promises that I can’t keep, but I’d love to be less lazy and less moody and go there more often. It’s so quiet and nice and green! I read and we played badminton and ate junk food and it was one of the most relaxing afternoons in a very long time.

Also 11 more days till I’m going home! I can hardly wait!

I always complain that we don’t get out more but I’m the one who can hardly wait for my working day to be over so I can go home. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have a home here, that I lived in a rented place with someone else’s furniture, with ugly tiles and small rooms because in that case I’m sure I wouldn’t rush ‘home’. But it’s MY place, it’s MY furniture, MY books are here, uRMa is here – how can I not rush back to the place where I feel safe, where no one bugs me, where everything is just how I want it to be?

I don’t want desperately for something to change, I don’t want to change, at least not now. I still have 5 1/2 years for Change to occur. I just want to relax more, to stop clenching my teeth at night, to take more film pictures, not to rush back home every day after work, to start working on my MA paper not because I have to, but because I want to, to eat more ice cream, to cook again, to stop drinking Coke, to eat more fruits, to be someone else.

…cause it might come true. All that complaining about having too much time on my hands and not doing anything productive turned against me. At least for two months I will be going to work from 9 to 5 or from 8 to 4, depending on when my MA classes start. I know I’m not the only one in the world doing this but it feels like such a big deal to me. I’ve never worked 8h/day and I’ve never commuted that far (hello, northern part of Bucharest!).

I know I should feel more excited but right now I’m still panicky. I’ll have to pack food with me; I’ll have to run from one place to another; I’ll have to remember new faces, new names; I’ll sit in front of the mirror very early in the morning thinking whether I’m wearing an appropriate dress for work or not. I am scared!

I’m starting on Tuesday so I still have one free day. Tomorrow I’ll be a nervous wreck. Maybe I’ll feel better after I actually start going there. At least I’ll know what to expect and what’s expected of me. Until then, I’ll just bite my nails and read Terry Pratchett (when in doubt, read a book, any book).

In comparison to other capitals, Bucharest hasn’t got that many things to offer. There are some nice areas and a couple of nice places to go and eat or have a beer but there aren’t place you have to see. Nope, not really. This means that the time you would spend going from one place to another, you spend it with your friends. Good ol’ quality time!

One thing still puzzles me: we had such a great time together, we talked about countless things and we agreed on many issues and still, there is quite an age difference between us. Thinking about this now, I only have 2-3 friends who are younger than me. All my other friends are older and wiser I totally love that. My friends are people I look up to and I know I have so many things to learn from them. My dilemma is: why the heck are they spending their time with me? I don’t know if I want to find out the answer to that question. Maybe it’s better to leave things the way they are and enjoy them while they last

But the more I think about this brother-sister relationship, the more I don’t understand it. I know it’s some sort of parent-child thing, only cooler, but it still puzzles me. I am an only child and I was raised like one: I got to eat the whole bar of chocolate, I got to play with all the toys, I was grounded for every stupid thing I did. I have no idea what it means to share a room with someone, to take someone’s side out of brotherly care etc. I don’t know what it means to worry about someone who is travelling by plane and I have no idea how it feels to spend time with your siblings after months of being apart.

Yes, I have a family and, yes, I care about *almost* all of its members but except for my parents I don’t feel like there is any special bond connecting me to them. I have learned to accept them the way they are but I still judge them from time to time (not out loud, though) and we see each other for Christmas, Easter and a couple of times during the summer holiday. No big love between us, no real bonds.

I don’t regret not having siblings – hell, I’m glad I’m alone, spoiled and egotistic but sometimes I would like to know how it feels to care for someone not because you are great friends or because they are your parents but because you’ve shared so many things together, so many memories, because they were grounded because of you or because they wanted to save you, because you were fighting over the same bar of chocolate.

Siblings – strange creatures