F*cking Amal
The other night I have been served tea. Jasmine. Actually, you have it in the picture. Now, my mental representation of jasmine is much closer to what you get on Google image search or your average Wikipedia. My jokingly accusations that I was being given unknown (to me) poison through my tea have been met with the highest assurance of this being the “original stuff from India”.
That things are often what we don’t expect them is just too lame to enunciate. Like in my title above, originally
a movie by Lukas Moodysson. I have believed for a long while that the said Amal was a person, only to find out that it “is a small insignificant town where nothing ever happens”. Now, in real life in my life there will soon be a person called Amal. And I will be sharing my flat with her, without the first word in the title above, for, hopefully only, the next two weeks. So if you know a suitable room for Amal, somewhere in Bucharest, do let me know.
LATER EDIT: Amal is great. She is so full of energy. And she has also moved out of my place and we can continue enjoying a healthy working relationship and friendship.
