Had anyone told me I would wake up at six every morning, I would’ve laughed in “anyone’s” face. So who is laughing now? Well, not me. I am just sleepy.
Tisa has added in her little chewing-CV chewing on the PR Compendium (is it a sign?), earphones, and a tie. Yes, I am wearing a tie now. A different tie every day.
Off I go across this marvelous traffic jam ahead.
Doll, I’m fine.
The dog has put me to the ground today. We were rollerblading in the park. My foot hurts now. It didn’t then. Anyways.
I got a mohawk haircut. A bit tilted. But it’s fun. It’s supposed to be that way. Fun, and tilted.
“What has inspired you to do that?”, he asked. “Not having to see clients”, I replied promptly. “I do FTP these days.”
The other absolutely extraordinary piece of news is that Parov Stelar has messaged me on Twitter, suggesting junodownload.com, when I have complained that his album is not available on iTunes Romania. So, here I am at 3 in the morning, listening to that, his latest release, Coco. After the call from the bank checking the validity of the internet card transaction. Pretty amazing stuff. Pretty good release!
Let me post a picture of the un-named one 
It’s been such a day. Move that to the left. No, too much, more to the right. Make that bold. Can we have it regular? I think it should be easier to spot that bit, maybe turn it into bold font, what do you think? kinda manoovering… but I’m smiling. I know the client. I know the material.
Some pretty amazing things have found me.
First, some time ago, my former boss, who every once in blue moon sends randomly significant things to me, has sent me this. Read it, it’s a brilliant account, a piece published by The Huffington Post and tagged Gay Families, Gay Marriage, Gestational Surrogacy, Living, Prop 8, Twins, Living News. I wanted to write about it, but being where I am workwise I will now settle for this very brief mention.
Pretty much in the same line of business, a long-awaited initiative, that I like because it’s serious and decent comes from two friends you can also find in my blogroll. I am jealous. Good jealous. (Guys, let me know if I can help.)
These being said, I am hitting the shower and my neighbours being crass - apparently they have either stopped flushing, because of water costs I assume, or someone has died in their bathroom, repeatedly.
It’s “so far, so good”, instead of “sooo good, so far”. There are a lot of reasons for that. Like the fact the one of the guard monkeys grabbed my arm. I say learn English, learn some manners, then get paid to be a bodyguard. Anyways, nothing serious. Some of the festival staff is really good and effective. Like the guy who apologized for the guard.
So that would explain why I have started drinking beer as early as ten something in the morning. Or wouldn’t it?
Can I complain about the dust. About the little motorinoes? They are everywhere, inserting themselves in every little space available. I am talking both about the dust and the little motor bikes. Since there is nothing much I can do about the dust, I thought of just pushing the riders as they pass me by. Criminal instinct, huh?
So yesterday was the first busy day. Kaiser Chiefs made my day. “That’s a nice one, BUCHAREST”. The Romanian crowd was ecstatic. The Hungarians were like “What was that? Neah”. So that was the highlight of a day that included, dozing in the ambient tent, excellent music and sound, a indie-underground American movie and a discussion with it’s director in the Magic Mirror, The graffiti artist - don’t bother unless you don’t have anything else better, the quite electric Fanfara Tirana, and the funny Finish unpronounceable Alamaailman Vasarat, a bit hard to digest in terms of music, but very humorous intros to their pieces, Kaiser Chiefs as you know them, Jamiroquai impaired by their own live sound, so we moved next door to Bob Marley’s son. You remember the cute little Ky-Mani? He is all grown up now.
The cherry on the pie was Szivkov Aleksszandr 6 minute dance. Great, entertaining, well-done, perfect moves and his body is a bonus. On the same occasion we watched another performance, that made us want to leave the room and move forward. Some tunisian guy, speaking French, of course, using a wheel chair. The dancing was good, but the piece was all together too long and “artistic”. We ended the night in a jazz note. Rhoda Scott is an American artist that plays an instrument that’s a cross between a piano and an organ and she does it with all her soul. Plus she had help from this incredible drum player. Makes me wanna be like that when I am older.
My twenty minutes are almost up. See you soon.
LATER EDIT: Thanks to Hotnews for linking me.
This blogger is going to sleep first, then to Sziget.
See you all later. I so deserve a vacation.
Oh, that’s nothing like getting nowhere fast. I knew exactly where I was headed, to see my boyfriend. The only thing that prevented me from getting there was the 3 kilometers line of cars on both lanes at the exit from our magnificent highway to Pitesti, the first highway of our beautiful but inhabited dumb country. Three hours on a 100 kilometer highway! Driving in Romania sucks increasingly. Police mostly seat on their ass. They don’t even have doughnuts. Common sense is science fiction. Drivers are impolite, to use an euphemism. And roadworks are omnipresent and frozen. After being stuck on the highway, where I made friends with the dog featured in the picture, by the way, what is a dog doing on the highway anyway?! I was stuck at the eternal traffic light where part of the road is literally going down the drain, so, instead of immediately consolidating what’s left, they simply shut down one lane, turning a two way street into an alternating one way. I lost count of road accidents and police cars and ambulances, there were at least two major catastrophes. Do I wonder, with all the BMW drivers driving up my ass over legal speed limit? Like way over speed limit. Now I DO drive over speed limit. I also try to use my brains. Or with the “king of the road” Logans? I won’t even go into the stuff I have actually seen secured strapped on the roof of various vehicles. I would start a collection if that wouldn’t be dangerous, taking pictures while driving that is.
Finally, our correspondent is happily reporting from Medias. At the end of a seven hour drive that takes about four hours on a good day. The things I do for love.
I almost forgot. After the highway of deadly boredom and wait, I have been driving behind a truck through Svaitzerland. Svaitzerland is pretty similar to Elbonia, only the cracks and holes go deeper.
Definitely depressed. The weather, the allergy, everything makes me tired. Not enough sleep, everything seems indeed like an effort. Satisfactions run fast by to quickly fade and make way to problems. I am tired of being late with everything. It’s that need for a clean slate, because everything on your plate now is just too much, too greasy and too getting cold. Not too sure what the future has in store. Happiness is the now, not in the wish. Truly happy people don’t have wishes, but I guess it’s only a matter of expectations and perception.
In my dream this morning we were picknicking on the occasion of a gayfest. We were also being awarded a prize for a website. I am sure it was a dream, because (1) I am currently unable picknick, (2) the gayfest was in fact a harvest celebration in the countryside, the parade was a happy marathon through villages, and the villagers were all in aw and wonder; also it took place somewhere in Transilvania, I could tell by the villagers’ accent, and (3) you cannot be awarded a prize for a project you have not completed.
Yesterday I was advised to wear a protection helmet at the march, but I think the only head gear I am bringing is my brains.
I have worked until past eleven in the night, dropped the flower pot, taken the wine, parked the car in tight spot, organized my mail, backed-up my now “late laptop”, gone to bed early in the morning, figured how to set my mail client and re-size and retouch pictures. I give you the new MacMe.
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