Many many happy birthday wishes later, and I still think the day would have been better spent cleaning the house. Or rendering order in those piles of paper.
I am not built for frustration, but I experience it more often than I should.
As time goes by, it turns out I am more interested in feasible projects.
Related to all of the above, I did the laundry yesterday. Now let me find a picture for you.
I don’t trust a cleaning lady to put order in my life. Because this is how any major cleaning of the house seems to me. There is one event like this every now and then when the seasons change. The latest spring cleaning revealed to me how I owe you the use of stripe socks. Before you my socks were being unicolour, mostly black. I was again tempted to put your things in a box. This time for practical reasons, they are taking up space. But there was no time. Space per time equals momentum, so I guess I am gathering practical momentum. It was also a good time to review my acquisition policy when it comes to music. And books. At least I listen to the music I buy. But that’s a side note. When I am older I’ll probably be better abled to read, although medical statistics contradict me. What else? I made plans to artistically use all these paper scraps I have been piling up. I have also decided to raid my clothes and give away everything I have not worn at least once in the past two years. Problem with this one is my memory is tricky when it comes to parting with once endeared items. I lag and linger. I have also observed I have gathered an impressive amount of dry-cleaners hangers and silver items. I want to buy new roller-blades, these ones are ten year old. Maybe they can go to the roller-blading museum?
This is what one gets 6 am -ish. Today, on my window. Maybe I should get up this early more often.
…
Mmm, neah.
I am going to make war. A war of socks. It’s going to be more like a civil war. Many old socks will be burned, after summary closed door trials.
Two persons, someone who knows me very well and someone who doesn’t even know me, told me they could see “our love”. I somehow I think that is the ultimate compliment. Also I think I am lucky.
(Based on a picture by Hoesch Design)
I am voiceless, again. Welcome funny whispering days. Only not funny hahaha.
My apartment is a good illustration of my life, all things scattered. A banana peel in bed. If ever I am going to slide on that I am guaranteed to land on a soft spot.
And what nasty kinda insect that is!
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One of the writing techniques they taught us back in school was the continuous flow. Here goes. I assume it’s going to look more like a labels list, than anything else. And it’s only half continuous, as I am doing other stuff too. Films, many movies, My Own Private Idaho, half way through The Incredible watched for the second time, the latest Harry Potter in the theater, old movies, neighborhood movies, no books, A Long Way down taking a long way to be finished, vodka and black berry, you can make it strong, you can drink a lot, vodka takes longer to get out of your body, I am waking up tomorrow at six, I have not prepared anything for my meetings.
Back to regular editing, minutes after. The biggest modern day frustration arises when making the wrong choices and no back up plan actually works. Like when you have n suitors; you will plan something with the most desirable, but when something comes up you will go to the next down the line and so on. Frustration is when get to the end of that line and still no date. That is a plain example of life is a bitch, then you die.
That stands for “Honey, Danny”, and “Kisses, Danny” (Puszi).
Why am I ready to reconsider my Hungarian heritage? Apart from the obvious reasons, like my father being a Hungarian, well it’s these last visits to Budapest, where the city is breathable, has bicycle lanes, the people are clean, polite, and trendy, the service starts with a smile and continues with “Is everything OK?”, and the roads and sidewalks don’t have the wholes the size of a broken leg, the one thousand and one cafes are cool, and the waiters have designer haircuts and bodies to die for.
So I promise better accounts my past two weeks. First I have to clean a bit the pigsties my residence has gradually turn into during my repeated absences.
Happily reporting from Otopeni, on my way to the island of music. It’s been quite a hectic endeavor so far. managed to do pretty much everything on my to do list, the rest will be fixed by a couple of calls later. I don’t have Vava’s cam, I have Mazi’s. I don’t have batteries, so we’ll see about the pictures. Last time the camera played tricks on me because of the batteries.
So, I woke up, not feeling rested nor 100% up to it, missing a piece of luggage, now I have a monster one. It contains my tent, mattress and sleeping bag, among other personal items under the same “roof”. So I started to score and check one thing after the other on my list, and one moment I was thinking I cannot possibly make it, the other, oh yeah sure I will. I included here the daily internet procrastination, no coffee mug this time.
The house was left devastated… not a nice place to return as such, but I will have to do something about that as I am due another interview on Sunday. At home this time, the other was in the office.
A last word of warning, never say never. Just when I was releasing a sigh “Finally I am on my way to the airport, and I should make it in time”, somebody’s car had a minor explosion. For a couple of seconds I saw myself running to railway station… Again, not really up to it.
Low cost is low cost, a check-in was a min-nightmare, but I am really on my way to the departure gate, so what can stop me now? I don’t remember where my anti-fever pills are, so maybe a sneaky virus. Hope not.
Finally, within the entire madness, T has sent the sweetest sms “Drive carefully”. Well, I didn’t have to. I miss you, and maybe my flight too if I linger long enough.
Zbyes!
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