So I turn in my resignation two months notice and what is the most common reaction I get?! Congratulations! Hello? I am not receiving anymore congratulations unless they are joined by irrefutably irresistible dream job offers. That, or a life long allowance. Like I said.
Fair warning, there are two separate topics right there. Also I am not parting with my Appy, we’re leaving together in hour first e-honeymoon. I hear most BT operated hotspots are six pounds an hour. Sterling. Fucking. They want to ruin my relation with Appy, or what?!
The gay dating site is providing for the drama and amusement in my life. I know, it’s not much of an entertainment, but since I don’t have cable… One guy says “not looking for relation, if I were, I’d be looking for a relation with girls”. That’s sad, closeted, true, and telling. Another guy’s nick innocently states totalsm, like in Satu Mare. Like in sado-maso. Thats’s a funny missunderstanding.
OK, I have a couple of flights to catch, and a terminal to change in Heathrow. Heathrow in less than two hours? What were the travel company thinking?!
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.
Relax, nobody gets hurt. That’s mostly around myself. Take yesterday, for instance. The moment I got out of the house, I caught a little fly between my eyelids. Isn’t that special?! OK, OK, it was my righ eye, but still. Thirty minutes, a panic attack, two pharmacies, and half a bottle of eye wash later I have managed to remove the little thing. It has not survived the above mentioned hardships. Do you know the joke with the crocodile tamer and the blonde? Yeah, that’s how I felt, only nostrils dried from the antihistamines.
In other unrelated news, I have been to the bookshop. That’s the thief of my heart, now that the boyfriend is in the mountains. Buying books, underline buy, not read, makes me feel intellectual. Of course, at a cost. Also being the gay I am I have bought Madonna’s latest. And Lenny Kravitz’s. Tell you what, you wannabe DJs, these two don’t go together, not for the time being, I’ve tried.
And now off to work, celebrating by doing this Labour Day.
You know your mum is not out, when she introduces your boyfriend as “a friend of my son’s”.
This is what one gets 6 am -ish. Today, on my window. Maybe I should get up this early more often.
…
Mmm, neah.
I have been here. I don’t remember the name.
This is a before and after example.
I might have blogged this picture once before, I cannot remember. The contradictory feeling I associate with it is the reason you’re seeing it (again, maybe). Are things so right that actually it is wrong? Or, is it vice-versa, all is so wrong it’s kinda started to grow on me?
I am missing people. Is it good to miss people? Does it make me a better person? Deprivation, does it have its benefits I cannot see for the moment?
Love wise I am still the deer in the headlights. We both are. That’s the Chinese equivalent of butterflies in the stomach. Is this turning into a boudoir journal?
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