Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Cel mai bun an


2009 a fost un an nasol. Nu mi-a prea placut deloc. A inceput cu un revelion jalnic, un ianuarie cu deadline-uri obscene, o primavara ciudata in care poate mi-am permis sa cred cat de putin si am luat-o in bot. Am apucat sa calatoresc putin vara si asta e singura mea sursa de imagini frumoase despre anul asta tampit. Am facut greseala de a nu-mi recunoaste limitele si proastele obiceiuri. Am incercat sa parasesc anul cu inima impacata, dar inca sunt multe lucruri pe care vreau sa le invat.
Cred sincer ca anul viitor este loc de speranta. De schimbari pe care sa le caut si sa le intampin. Sunt atat de multe lucruri pe care nu vreau sa le repet. In primul rand nu mai vreau sa ma dau batuta. Nu mai vreau sa pierd prieteni sau sa dezamagesc oameni care au investit in mine. Nu mai vreau sa-mi fac rau singura. Dar cel mai mult vreau sa-mi mentin atentia indreptata spre lucrurile pe care vreau sa le obtin. Sa imi dau voie din nou sa visez. Sa gasesc un milion de motive sa lucrez mai mult. Sa tin langa mine doar pe cei care merita.
E 00:00 si a mai ramas o zi din 2009. O zi in care sa fac planuri si poate sa ma mai uit la o fotografie-doua. O zi in care sa-mi promit ca voi profita de ce mi-o aduce 2010. Maine incepe cel mai bun an de pana acum.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Working class hero



I went for a walk with my family and then over to my new apartment to check out how the redecorating is going. It's all making me feel so empty. I go to bed and wake up in the morning thinking about how happy I am, how quiet is this time in my life, when I'm not yet paying any bills, have no place I have to be and can just lay in bed with a book or whatever else it is that I do with my time these days. I'm going to miss it. The noise in the kitchen that wakes me up in the morning, the fun in being around my brother, the absence of worries.
Flipping through InStyle, I remembered why I've been avoiding fashion magazines all along these past months. There was a watch that cost more than an apartment and I felt so angry thinking of the inequalities that make a market for such a product possible. I finally get the whole dancing and singing Big Brother thing. Keeping us doped with advertising, with dreams of little attainable things makes us so much easier to control. So much can be taken away from us in the mean time, cause we'd be willing to give away things we thought we had plenty of until we wake up one day and it's not there anymore. Can you win your innocence back? Can we now say we have all the time on our hands to enjoy the wealth we paid time for? These are superficial examples. But there are days when we just say to ourselves I guess it's all right if this guy is a self-righteous prick, I mean most people are in the end. And that day when we are not repulsed or angry about what stands against our own values we die a bit.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

TV shows and other blabla

I haven't touched the camera in weeks, so I'm out of photos. I'm one more day behind with that deadline, but somehow I couldn't care less. I keep thinking about academics and how I don't really fit in the picture. But I guess that's something time will tell.
Yesterday I watched the new episodes of my two favorite shows. I've been in love with detective stories and forensic witchcraft ever since I was a little kid. Actually, when other girls wanted to be ballet dancers I wanted to be Jessica Fletcher, only like thirty years younger. To solve murders and write books. I guess now I'd wanna be more Temperance Brennan, still solving murders and writing books, but add some beauty and money plus the sometimes social awkwardness due to way over average intelligence and knowledge.
Mkay, so I'm off for some Supernatural beefcake ;)

Friday, December 11, 2009

Do you believe in life after love?

After having "Oh, Susana" playing on and on in my head for days, today it's Cher. It's like the annoying songs of my childhood have all decided to haunt me this winter. I'm trying to counterbalance it by caroling around the house. Problem is I start humming on the street as well. Yesterday it was "Take me to the riot". It's a hell of a musical December.
So I was thinking of a smashing holiday schedule, which includes children movies, lots of food and occasionally some witty jazz. But that's for next week, cause I'm so caught up with procrastinating right now. I'm even three days behind on a mid-something paper deadline. My procrastination today includes tortellini and shopping for bathroom accessories. Moving out next month has given me such an amazing list of projects to set in motion and then drop before they're done. Like making a catalog of all the books in the house. Or chronologically ordering my classes and projects of the last like ten years. Stuff that implies paper and dust and a bitter taste of guilt for all those trees.
Whatever I had on my mind when I started writing this post is lost somewhere but I guess it was in one way or another just bragging about my very own place. I'm getting the room painted as well and I've been obsessed with peach for a long time. But this morning I was thinking it's either too pink and girlish, either too beige and boring. I found some awesome examples on the web and now I think it's actually more of an orange, which makes it both feng shui and trendy (hahahahaha). Anyway, it may have actually been a great idea all along. It does require a change of plans in terms of rug and curtains, but oh, well, if I can't do plans, what the hell am I good at?
The kids start holiday today, but I just had to leave my presentation for the last minute, so now I'm still going next week. Somehow I guess I do like it, especially when I'm heading home and the whole city is on fire. It is crazy, but man how I love those Christmas lights. The snowflakes, the bells, the crazy colored trees. I wonder if there's some reindeer this year anywhere. Never been one for winter holidays, but this year is the first time I don't have work to do and I'm gonna lazy around them bravely.
I've read Palahniuk's "Diary" and I did love his writing, but I guess there's always expectations after reading a book or two. I maybe wanted his writing to be so violent it makes my head spin, to leave the meanings behind the line of obvious, to be drawn into almost snuff stories. Instead, I found a recipe that was pretty predictable, a story of a community ruthlessly striving for independence and well-being, an underlying discourse of exploitation of women as housewives, as scapegoats, as free sources of production mainly through marriage. Of course, what I read is so much of my own mind and I bet one of the wonderful things about his art is that you can be terrified and amused at the same time, looking at larger meaning or just experiencing sensations.
OMG I can't wait for snow. The house wine and gingerbread taste different after a day of sleighing. I feel that all the mean energy of this year is already fading away and the next one's gonna be a blast.
Well, I've had time to think it through and maybe I'm too good for you.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Somewhere over the rainbow

I still don't like the banner, but I can live with the hope I'll be able to get some amazing forest photos this autumn so I can change it. That's what I live on nowadays. Hopes. And dreams of being free. Free from all the CEU bullshit. Because I'm not done with my thesis and I should be by Thursday. And I can't write. I just can't. I'd do anything but. I know it takes self-discipline. But while hating myself so much for staring at the screen and not writing, I feel like it's the too much love I have for myself that allows me to indulge in such laziness. Anybody out there reading this, say a little prayer for me, so that on Friday I'll be submitting these chains in Budapest and finally just be.
After coming back home I've started to realize more and more that all my M.A. year has been a delay of where I'll be getting now. Being afraid I won't get my diploma, I cannot feel its value added to my life. Except for the wonderful people I've been around, I guess I did hate it most of the times but was too proud to admit to myself that something I wanted so bad could go so wrong. I missed out on some employment opportunities by going away and now I'll probably be jobless for another half year at least. I want to go to the same master's I would've done last year, so it's like I just exited a time loop. Just one year older, extremely exhausted and tied up to a paper I never wanted to write. Not to mention my body is all screwed up because of the sedentary life and bad bad diet.
I am thrilled to be back home. In a weird way, I like living with my parents and having them breathe down my neck when I have work to do, asking questions about where I'm going or just reminding me of how I'm always annoyed by something and that I should stop. I like being taken care of, as much tough love that implies. I've started seeing people I've missed for so long and there are more I need to call (if only I were done with that stupid paper) and it is rather comforting to see how we've all started to move at different paces from some moment in time.
This summer I went to two weddings and it felt wonderful to dress up and have people tell me how I've grown so so pretty. I went hiking and when I came home the sky was no longer wide enough here and all I wanted to do was pack and move back to a tent at over 2000 meters. I went to see my grandparents and help out in the garden, pick fruits and play with children, met my childhood friends and amazed at how much we did actually grow up. Well, at least some of us. I went out and had shots and made all the wrong decisions and damn it was exciting. I went on late night walks and found a swing that's not too small for me and a boy who would never forget to show me the moon. Life is beautiful out there, beyond my stupid dissertation. As soon as I'm done, I can go back to feeling the magic. I can go dancing and wait for the sunrise, hell, it's open season soon.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Back to the future

Yes, the line of whiny personal posts continues. I just finished reading some pages I wrote two years ago and a few posts I deleted from the blog in between. There are no skeletons in my closet, they are full-fleshed demons. In my lines, I kind of stick to the same concerns: not knowing what I want, except for not wanting to become anything like my dad, being afraid, afraid of so much I have no time to list it all here, being single and how much I hate all the push-pull people play on me. I do have optimistic words sometimes. Fear is the mind-killer :D I hardly identify with that girl. All the right words are there in my head and now, knowing where all that led, I can tell her it was all worth it. That the big mistakes were fearsome responses to being deeply hurt. That all the people whose opinions she feared are no longer relevant. That she is and will be loved by all the right ones. That there are immense possibilities of bifurcations her life can take and that none is better than the other one and you can make the best of what you've got. That having slight feminist tendencies is not that bad ;) One thing I've noticed is that I never become a better person. Is there such thing?
Now I wish there was a blog post from the future to make me feel better. I've always been a lazy person and got away with it, but the past is only making me wonder if this time won't be an exception. I need someone to tell me I'll graduate this thing and that there are wonderful things waiting for me back home and if not, that I'll someday head to wherever they may be. It'd be comforting to get a hint of how foolish my fear is.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Midday soulsearching

The more I think I know who I am, the less helpful that is. At my age my mother had a family and a job. My friends were still in school. I'm somewhere in the middle. I'll be taking a break from school (although I'll probably apply for an M.A. when I get home) and looking for a job. I'm maybe the only one not trying to move towards something better or greater, but just heading towards different. Maybe it's because of all the moving around as a child that I long so much for a place of my own. I enjoy my solitude and maybe I'm just going in the wrong direction, a few years away from becoming the crazy cat lady. Some of my friends think I should've applied to PhD. My grandparents wish I had a well-paid job and settled. But settling is the last thing on my mind now. I've done most of it and none of it seems appealing to me right now. I know I should be growing up, but I still feel like a teenager. There are lots of causes I support, but I ain't fighting any of them. There are things I like, but I'm not good at any of them. Hell, I can watch a great movie in the same day with a chick flick. I've been reading less of what I like and more of what I had to and even though I like the latter, I can't talk to people about it. People I have conversations with are either dull (most of them) or I am dull to them. I'm a party animal when I go out, but I seldom get to do that lately. There is nothing mine about me. Except for my time alone. So maybe I'm not going where I should be going, but I'm more likely moving somewhere where I can keep being happy.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Pink-vanilla

The summer sky is still pink-vanilla each day. I can't remember exactly when the rainy days stopped in Budapest. The second day in Prague was pretty fun. We went first on a boat tour. On our way to the deck, we looked for the swans we met the day before, but they were sunbathing somewhere else.
I then wanted to go check out the shopping streets, excited about my mum's suggestion to get something nice as a birthday present (of course, she found out only two days ago how much I had spent before going on my trip, so it was a good idea not to indulge). As it was really hot, we headed towards the old center to find some bench in the shades. But we came across a nice market, where I bought silly souvenirs made of wood. No Prague logos on them, just pretty things for the children within us. We somehow got to the castle and the sun had to shine right on top of our heads as were going up the hill. But it was really beautiful.
Later on we had a beer on some stairs and a photo shooting in front of the Romanian embassy. Tried for hours to find a place to dine and ended up at the global fast-food. We were so tired, we only went to sleep at midnight and spent time talking in the dark. It felt like camp.
In Bratislava we encountered (much too) good weather and our wonderfully hospitable colleague waiting at the bus station. Here we saw the castle first and then the city center. Bratislava is indeed quite small. Having lunch was another quest, successful this time, ended up paying six euro for a two-course meal and a beer. Pretty amazing for the area. After another walk the thirst got to me and had to find a supermarket. So we also found the Bratislava shopping street. After our guide left, we spent two or three hours on a bench. It was so hot and our bags felt so heavy and uncomfortable, that we just gossiped until it was time to take the bus. I freaked out when it was late, of course. Luckily, it wasn't full and we found pretty convenient seats. The first shower home was an orgasm.
I spent the last three days trying to convince myself to start writing my internship paper. I am lazy and I am freaked out I won't pass and in between I'm paralyzed. I managed to read some today and I have a picture in my head of how the paper will be structured. Maybe tomorrow is a lucky day. I didn't do bad today. I'm back on track with quitting the bad stuff and getting used to a healthy life style. Almost fainted because of too much time in the sauna, but I'll insist.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Sleepy in Prague

We went through the roof on Thursday when we saw that the bus to Prague was almost full. And we had had booked the accomodation. So we tried all kind of options and ended up buying more expensive tickets from Volanbusz. The bus was not that horrible, but I was cold all night and my sweater was in the backpack down. When we arrived it was cloudy and could not find a place to change money. While looking at 7 o'clock in the morning for an exchange and a place to eat, we saw half of the center. We then had plenty of time to have some breakfast, walk, sit in a park, have a beer on the sidewalk. Came in the afternoon to the hostel, which is pretty hidden, but I figure really quiet. I had the most shocking shower when I woke up. I had to push a button and it just sprang. My heart stopped for a moment. Well, the water was hot in the end, it's clean with friendly staff, I cannot ask for more from the lowest price. We got around the center quite well even without the map. Probably tonight we'll take a walk around here and go back to see the castle tomorrow. I'm finally out travelling and I can't get enough. I'll add some photos when I get home. I'm now writing from the hostel's desktop.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Public display of affection


Turns out it was just like entering a pool of cold water. When you put your foot in, it gives you the chills, but once you're in, it's comfortable. I enjoyed discussing the reading with my colleagues. As much as I dreaded having to spend time on them, they were actually making smart points. I felt quite surprised by Freeman's argument that we can have globalization and labor standards at the same time and that the two actually reinforce each other. We take some dichotomies for granted. I'm really looking forward to his lectures tomorrow.
When I was heading back home, a couple was kissing on the metro like there was no tomorrow. And they really annoyed me. I know I've always been that kind of person who believes there are only two people in this world when she is in love. And I don't practice what I preach. But I really don't like to see people all over each other in public. I also don't like daughters and mothers who hold hands, when the former is over ten. Maybe I'm just too irritable of a person.
I've been watching 'Commanding Heights' most of the afternoon. Which means I was not working and I'll wake up early tomorrow to do that. I'm just at the middle of the second episode and I
ll leave the rest for tomorrow or whenever I can get some time for that. I feel pretty panicked about my internship. I was absent for too long and now I need my papers signed and the coordinator won't answer my e-mail. It'll be all right in the end.

La toma

I don't wanna read all that stuff. I would if I had plenty of time and energy and no stress about a hundred other things. But I can't right now, so I can just hope my free rider abilities are sharp.
So this morning we watched 'The Take'. I felt like crying most of the time. I'm probably never going to be a cold-blooded scientist. I'll always have a weakness for people's individual stories and a slightly activist rage. It's about a factory in Argentina being taken over by the workers in order to be transformed into a cooperative, where they would all have equal pay and run the business through participatory democracy. It wasn't the first time this kind of grass-roots movement re-opened factories. Several Argentinian businesses were revived by the workers and now the owners who closed and sell them wanted back in. There were many conditions related to the political environment, the economic pressures and globalization that led to such situations. I think now that Naomi Klein did have a point there, as much as I laugh at activists.
The problem I actually have with activists is that many of them have nice jobs and can afford fair-trade coffee and they are these lucky individuals who have the choice. But I wonder how many of them have actually been on the field, how many know personally people in need for whom they fight. Environmentalists can be just the same. Urban hippies don't impress me much. It's the people who go out into the world, the real one, that I'd wanna learn from.

Monday, July 6, 2009

On tours and contradictions


There's been a lot going on. I had a lovely time on Saturday walking along the bridge and looking at hand-made stuff, watching street performances and sitting in the grass. At the same time, there was a riot in the center, I think because the Magyar Garda was declared illegal. It was an amazing moment of two parallel worlds just a few hundred meters from each other.
Sunday we went on a boat trip to Szentendre. I love love love being on a boat. The town is really cosy. It's called the town of seven churches, but I only got to see four. We tried some spicy local sausages with baked potato and gazed around at souvenirs. The Marzipan Muzeum si a must. They have so many pretty things. Cartoon characters, the Hungarian Parliament, a two meters Michael Jackson and whatever else crossed the manufacturers' head. I did get sun burned, but it was worth getting out of the house.
Today Janos Ladanyi took us on a tour of Budapest's neighbourhoods. We looked at it from the top of Gellert Hill. Then we went to a poor area. I felt pretty embarassed to be walking with a large group looking at people's homes, but as our sociologist guide said, we learn by observing. Then we went through this middle-class garden house neighbourhood and another one of blocks of flats. Last we stopped to look at the center being re-built by pushing the poor out. It seems that Budapest is indeed a segregated city, both in terms of ethnicity and social class, but that this segregation is not spontaneous and natural, but built by planners and decision-makers. I didn't go to the beer garden, I really wanted to work a bit. I did not get to writing yet again, but I did read some.
It was a good day overall. I went on my tour and read articles, I talked to people and got to know some better, I saved money and worked out. I just come from the sauna. I can't make it as long as the hourglass takes, I got the chills like two minutes before and had to get out. I am somewhat exhausted, but I feel that it makes me feel fresh, improves my blood circulation and stamina. This is going to be a great summer.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Somebody stop me because I can't

I've been shopping, shopping, shopping. Spent 3/4 of my scholarship already and I'm facing the perspective of taking a home-made sandwich to school, as I can't afford eating out anymore. All right, I'm exaggerating. But really. I limited myself to buying classical pieces I needed for a while. But I've also been having lunch in the center and today I went crazy earring shopping. It's a lot of fun, I must say. Pretty things make me happy, I'm a sucker for pretty things. Everybody knows I have a sweet tooth and it ain't sugar I'm talking about. But then again, I have to start all kinds of diets.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Summer in the city


I might be addicted to noodle soup. That being said, I can get to more earthly matters. I do use English when I'm in Pest, it's surprising how I even catch myself thinking in languages other than Romanian. When I watch the news online it feels so strange to hear everybody speak my mother language. Anyways.
The first four days of summer school are over and it feels like it was longer than that. On Monday we had the usual introductory stuff, with a reception in the evening (oh, my, I've been eating way too much the last weeks). There were lectures each day and we watched two documentaries so far. 'Life and Debt' was following Jamaica's struggle to cope with the effects of globalization and 'Mardi Gras:Made in China' is more about production relations and worker exploitation.
I enjoy a lot of what we do there. Christy Glass gave a presentation on the Global Development Project, we had Elaine Weiner giving a lecture and talking about her research in the Czech Republic on female workers and managers, yesterday David Ost spoke of class and how much it is a vehicle of mobilization in capitalist societies and today Mahua Sarkar presented her research on Bangladeshi workers in Singapore, a striking example of regulated oppression.
What I don't like is the narrow mindedness, snobbery and hypocrisy we approach such stories with. Sometimes it feels like social science is some new religion and every scholar feels like a chosen one. We look down on those who dare to contradict us. We fail to understand the conditions under which certain situations develop and are hasty to interpret things. But we rarely remember that what we do need to do is make sense of things. And if we are such activists, find ways to approach issues. But it is rather difficult to do the latter, isn't it? Well, then we shouldn't make judgments. Our pity does not help, our being shocked and angry is just so empty if all we do is sit around a table. I'm not saying we cannot have feelings about such issues. We need to be angry and care, but I just hate it when this turns into a parade banner and nothing else and that's what I feel we do at moments in our roundtable discussions.
I don't want to end in this mean tone. Life is beautiful. Budapest is everyday amazing and all its scents and noises and sights make me feel like dancing. All right, that was a bit tacky.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Zic si eu

Nu pot sa spun ca am fost dezamagita de rezultatele de la europarlamentare. Asta pentru ca nici nu am prea avut asteptari. Sunt in continuare mandra de liberali pentru ca au avut in capul listei mai multe femei, si de ele ca nu s-au inghesuit sa se planga, ci au ramas cu ochii pe obiective. Ma irita in continuare ca EBA a primit atatea voturi, dar nu pot sa spun ca nu m-am asteptat. Nu trebuie sa fii geniu ca sa-ti dai seama. Iar romanii, vorba vine, tot romani. Nu-i poti baga pe toti in aceeasi oala, dar atata timp cat OTV-ul face audienta, cum sa nu mearga Gigi la Bruxelles? Sincera sa fiu, poate ca nici nu e atat de rau. Exista o gramada de prosti cu intentii bune. Si daca mezina vrea sa faca pe termen lung cariera in politica, va pune osul la treaba. Mie imi pare rau dupa Alina Mungiu-Pippidi si unul din motivele pentru care bruneta ma scoate din sarite e felul in care partidul si-a tratat un intelectual de valoare ca sa-i puna ei miere pe rana. Tragem linie, facem media, putea sa fie mai rau. Intotdeauna il vom avea pe Vanghelie drept termen de comparatie ;).
Am hotarat sa nu ma mai ating de presa mondena. Dar e aproape imposibil sa nu afli de casatoria fostului prim-ministru (oare acum fetele de la Apaca sunt toate sfasiate de durere? la vremea lui, Roman era un fel de Edward Cullen, nu?) sau de scandaluri de tot felul. Intre Rolland Garros si 'Mith Busters' trebuie sa trec prin tot felul de canale. Totusi, trebuie sa multumesc postului Romantica pentru 'Doctor Quinn'. Fenomenal cat de feminist si progresist poate fi. In copilarie nu observam tenta moralista; dar e o morala a tolerantei, trebuie sa subliniez. Acum ma uit la cate un episod si ma enerveaza toate personajele incuiate la minte, cam cum ma enervez cand citesc ziarul sau ma uit la stiri.
Si ca sa inchei cu putina zanzanie. Mie imi place de Ciutacu, il citesc de vreo 2-3 ani, dar mi se pare fireasca rabufnirea lui Boc. Domnu' primar, jos palaria! Omul nostru crescut la munte a scapat un 'derbedeul dracului', si cred ca i-a picat atat de bine. Eu zic sa nu mai facem pe babele pudice, ce, numai PRM-ul sa se injure la televizor (si sa mearga impreuna la Bruxelles)?

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Retrospectiva TIFF 2009


N-am mai reusit sa intru la Anticristul, desi era filmul pe care tineam mortis sa-l vad anul acesta la TIFF. Locatia nu a fost prea inspirat aleasa pentru o premiera, mai ales avand in vedere faptul ca a fost o singura proiectie. Bine, e si vina mea ca nu am luat biletul in avans de frica sa nu ploua. Anul acesta am vazut doar patru filme la festival, ceea ce e foarte putin avand in vedere ca planuiam sa-mi fac un card TIFF si sa ma mut in cinematograf.
Primul a fost 'Barthalo!'. Republica era plin si s-a ras in sala, iar echipa a fost primita cu aplauze prelungite. Atmosfera a fost asa cum imi aminteam eu festivalul in zilele lui bune. Sincera sa fiu, mi-a placut la nebunie, dar nu pot sa argumentez prea obiectiv de ce. Te atasezi repede de personaje, iar tenta de documentar a fost intr-adevar in linia mea de interes. In plus, sunt momente in care esti cu sufletul la gura si momente in care iti vine sa dansezi. Din cele patru, in mod sigur acesta a fost preferatul meu.
Am fost joi la ziua HBO la doua filme, dar inainte am vrut sa vad 'Esti Marlon si esti Brando'. Intr-adevar, e genul de film de la care atunci cand esti, te simti usor dezamagit. Si totusi, cand incepi sa-l povestesti celorlalti, iti dai seama ca povestea de dragoste te-a atins, ca anumite cadre ti-au ramas fixate in minte, ca aceasta alta perspectiva iti schimba oarecum felul de a privi razboiul din Irak, apropiindu-te de nivelul micro, la care oamenii interactioneaza, ii cauta pe cei dragi si asteapta vesti de la ei.
La Victoria am fost la 'Apocalipsa dupa soferi' al lui Alexandru Solomon. Ca o viitoare soferita scarbita, trebuie sa spun ca nu ma pot raporta in nici un fel la tema filmului, desi substratul lui, povestile individuale, mi s-a parut interesant. Am apreciat felul in care Solomon si-a ales personajele, felul in care a legat povestile. Mi se pare chiar munca antropologica ce facea el acolo.
'Australia' a fost primit foarte bine de public, a fost in mod clar mai multa lume in sala si s-a aplaudat si in timpul proiectiei. Australia e tot un fel de documentar, urmarind echipa nationala de fotbal a persoanelor fara adapost la primul campionat mondial la care am fost reprezentati, in Melbourne. Cred ca lumea care era la film era deja in mare parte genul de audienta cu mai putine prejudecati, dar ca totusi felul lor de a privi membrii echipei e acum complet diferit decat daca i-ar fi intalnit doar pe strada. Si trebuia sa ii felicitam ca au batut si echipa regizorilor si actorilor.
Nu am vazut, desi as fi vrut, 'Contesa', 'Cetateanul Havel' si, bineinteles, 'Repo! Opera genetica'. Despre ultimul se scrie ca a fost filmul cult al festivalului de anul acesta. Dar poate saptamana viitoare vor fi cateva proiectii post-festival. Poate la toamna am noroc si merg la Astra un weekend si unul la Verzio. As fi vrut sa ajung anul acesta la Anonimul, dar cred ca sunt limitata de buget si cercul meu social minuscul.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Cum va place


Am avut o saptamana foarte buna saptamana trecuta. Luni am iesit la o bere cu o colega de la Budapesta si chelnerii jucau fotbal pe sub mese. Marti m-a scos un prieten cu japca din casa si ne-am plimbat prin parc si am invatat sa rad de mine din cand in cand. Miercuri am mers la concertul de folk de la Casa de Cultura a Studentilor si am ras cu niste prichindei care aplaudau de zor si cu Olarasu, bineinteles. Joi am fost la o vanatoare de comori cu mah babe si cred ca imi place sa nu fie tot timpul vorba despre mine. Vineri m-am jucat cu o pisicuta dracoasa si am adormit-o nitel. Sambata am fost la un spectacol de dans medieval si m-am tot chinuit sa fac macar o fotografie decenta. Iar duminica am sarbatorit ziua de nastere a bunicului meu, care a implinit 80 de primaveri, la masa cu inca vreo cincisprezece persoane. Dar saptamana asta, desi cu putin ajutor de la prietenii mei, m-a invins deja plimbatul de la un oficiu la altul si cheltuitul ultimilor mei bani, tinuti pentru tiff, pe refacerea dosarului pentru carnetul de sofer. Dom'le, eu nu sunt fata care sa vrea masina. Nu m-a incantat niciodata reteta aia cu apartament, sot si masina. Poate ca eu vreau pisica si un rucsac vesnic gata sa fie umplut. Sau o gradina de flori si tomate. Nu stiu. Am atins un nivel interesant de intuitie si liniste sufleteasca saptamana trecuta. Si incep deja sa simt cum se naruie. O sa o iau incet. Ma duc la plimbare. Sa-mi iau o revista glossy si niste cirese.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Vanare de vant


Marsul pentru normalitate e o mare prostie. Cand vad oameni cu icoane pe strada care vin si-ti spun ca Dumnezeu vrea asta si aia imi vine sa-i iau la palme. Daca oamenii au intr-adevar nevoie sa fie spirituali ar face bine sa inceapa sa creada in binele din oameni. Now that's something to believe in. Sa credem ca oamenii sunt fundamental buni, ca ceea ce e diferit nu e gresit. Sa credem ca pana si oamenii care le fac rau celorlalti cu premeditare sunt in cautarea dragostei si a fericirii si au dreptul sa spere. Sa iubim oamenii atat de mult incat sa ii lasam liberi. Liberi de prejudecatile noastre, liberi sa isi urmeze visele, liberi sa aleaga. Sa avem un instinct sufocant de a avea grija de altii, sa ni se rupa inima de mila si sa ne creasca atunci cand ceilalti sunt fericiti. Asta inseamna sa fii cu Dumnezeu. Eu nu cred in oamenii care isi justifica intoleranta cu constiinta religioasa. Dar in acelasi timp, n-au decat. Stiu cateva lucruri despre mine. Stiu ca sunt slaba si ma doare sa imi supun convingerile la dezbateri. Dar mai stiu si ca imi vine greu sa tac. Eu sunt pro-choice si pentru drepturile civile ale LGBT si impotriva pedepsei cu moartea. Cred ca fiecare dintre noi ia la un moment dat in viata o pozitie. Uneori as vrea chiar sa fiu activist. M-as duce la strans de gunoaie pe munte, la fundraising pentru aziluri de batrani, la construit de case si adaposturi si sper ca in curand viata mea va intra intr-o linie care sa-mi permita sa traiesc in conformitate cu lucrurile in care cred. Nu ma incanta cu nimic faptul ca inghitim aberatii neoliberale fara sa comentam la cursuri, si nici ca imi fac cumparaturile uneori la supermarketuri a caror responsabilitate corporativa e indoielnica. Dar sunt slaba si cedez presiunilor. Uneori prefer sa merg unde e mai ieftin ca sa mananc cat de cat fara sa cer bani in plus parintilor mei, chiar daca as vrea sa merg in pietele unde vin tarani (nu pot si pentru ca nu vorbesc maghiara). Uneori as vrea sa ma bat in continuare la cursuri cu morile de vant si sa le vorbesc oamenilor despre efectele negative ale cresterii, despre comunitate in loc de globalizare si alte nebunii. Dar sunt slaba. Si asta nu e o scuza, dar nu am fost niciodata inclinata spre extreme. Asa ca prefer sa fac lucrurile in felul meu. Sa traiesc eu asa cum imi dicteaza inima si sa nu le cer acelasi lucru si altora. Sa ascult cu ambele urechi si sa gandesc pentru mine.

N-ai nevoie de foarte multe



In mod ciudat, desi toate se ard, se sparg, se strica pe aici, sunt mai senina decat cerul de afara. Incep sa rad de mine si de cat de absurda sunt uneori in furia mea. Am loc langa mine pentru toti cei care se apropie sa schimbe o vorba. Nu am nevoie sa ma prefac iarasi ca as fi nimic din ceea ce nu sunt. Cand m-am oprit ca sa vad toate lucrurile minunate din jur, am ramas uimita de linistea dinauntru. Da, da, e aiurea. Nici eu nu m-am trezit bine inca.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Inapoi in groapa cu nisip


Poate ca e un test. Poate ca trebuie sa-mi confrunt fantomele una cate una. Sa invat sa nu mai iau toate lucrurile in serios, sa rad din cand in cand cu si de mine. Poate ca trebuie sa ma desprind de vise si sa inteleg care e diferenta. Era atat de bine atunci cand visam chestii atat de trase de coada, incat nu aveau nici o sansa sa se intample. Inventam eu personajele, ca sa nu-mi creez asteptari de la cele reale. Am incalcat de cateva ori acea limita. Si uite unde am ajuns. Sa ma port ca o pubera pe strada, sa adun in mine atat de multa furie cand atinsesem o liniste profunda. Daca nu iei lucrurile in serios, nu esti ranit, iar daca nu esti ranit, tu esti cel care se distreaza de fiecare data. Cei mai misto oameni pe care ii cunosc nu s-au intrebat toata ziua ce vor crede altii despre ei si nici ce vor face la anul. Nu au lasat frica sa le conduca viata. M-am saturat sa tot filosofez. Dar nici nu vreau sa tin un jurnal de clasa a cincea. "Draga jurnalule, azi l-am vazut pe Gigel. Cred ca ii place de mine, dar e timid. Sper ca intr-o zi o sa-mi ceara prietenia printr-un biletel." Din cauza ca nu ne amintim, probabil, avem noi femeile tendinta sa facem aceleasi greseli. Sa fim la fel de naive si la menopauza. Sa le cautam scuze in loc sa ne luam jucariile sa plecam. Lumea e foarte foarte mare si sigur sunt si altii carora le place sa se joace. Dar de multe ori stam ca proastele in groapa cu nisip si altii ne fura lopatica si ne mai si dau cu ea in cap. Si noi ne gandim ca fac asta pentru ca le place de noi.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Dor de carti


"Era fundamental si instinctiv, tinea de esenta feminitatii sa doresti sa tamaduiesti oameni - sa linistesti dorinta unui barbat cu o cataplasma de carne docila, sa-i oferi spiritului sau inchistat exaltarea de a contempla o vrajitoare care se despuie de vesminte si se urca la ceruri intr-o camera de hotel urat mobilata."
"Spiritul are nevoie de nebunie la fel cum trupul are nevoie de hrana."

Random, summerish


Uuuu! Nu-mi este cu nimic mai putin lene acasa decat imi era in Budapesta. Pe masura ce vorbesc mai mult romana, ma simt mai confortabil sa si scriu. Ceea ce-mi place cel mai mult e ca pot sa-i fac mamei capul calendar cu povestile mele. Chestie pe care am tendinta sa o fac atunci cand petrec prea mult timp singura. Daca se intampla sa imi pice in gheare cate un amic, ma simt putin stanjenita si incerc sa vorbesc mai putin, pentru ca de oprit oricum nu ma pot opri. Dar mama nu poate sa ma iubeasca mai putin doar pentru ca nu-mi tace gura, asa ca e obiectul preferat de tortura.
Habar n-am cu ce vreau sa incep. Ar trebui probabil sa umplu peretele din fata biroului de post-it-uri ca sa nu uit ceva, dar deja stau sa se prabuseasca afisele si deci mai bine nu. Ma intreb ce am facut eu cu posterul de la TIFF. Si cat de curand apar cele noi, sa mai fur unul. Daca nu sunt furate, nu are nici un farmec. Am doar doua primite. Unul cu Atacul Clonelor. Uuuu! Ar trebui sa fac un maraton Star Wars cat de curand. Cu ice tea si chipsuri din productia locala. Asa, si unul cu Axel. E exact unde trebuie ca sa-l vad dimineata cand ma trezesc. Oriunde ma voi muta, Axel vine cu mine. Restul sunt furate. Am unul de la Gothika ascuns dupa biblioteca, nu mi-a placut deloc filmul, l-am furat doar pentru ca-mi placea nuanta de albastru. Am unul de la un concert Kumm din Pub, si asta e ascuns de birou. Daca stau sa ma gandesc mai bine, trebuia sa fie sus undeva, it's pretty cool. Cred ca e ispravit de Tara, dar nu sunt sigura, nu se vede de aici. Mai am de la Sighisoara, cel pe care s-a trzit Weasel sa scrie "Decapitari in direct" si "Lezbos Erotikus", am de la o expozitie organizata de British Council, de la 7Up (Cand vezi rosu inaintea ochilor, asteapta sa apara verde si treci), de la Trooper, Ada Milea, spectacole de teatru sau campanii sociale. Si majoritatea ma enerveaza la culme acum. Ai me promit ca le pot lua jos cand vor zugravi. Presimt ca asta nu se intampla inainte ca eu sa ma mut de aici. Am si un afis de suflet. Banuiesc ca e o copie xerox, dar mi-e drag pentru ca e un spectacol la care am fost, al unui prieten foarte drag, as spune sufletul meu pereche, dar poate s-ar supara pe mine. Poate sunt eu prea deschisa sa cred ca poti iubi pe cineva chiar daca nu au ramas multe de impartit si nici nu e nevoie sa fie.
Mi-e dor de vremea cand totul era nou si fascinant, cand eram convinsa ca nu vor fi niciodata urme de regret. Nu ma gandeam niciodata ca lucruri marunte ca orgoliul sau reputatia m-ar face sa ma gandesc de doua ori inainte sa iau ceva care imi place. Sa intind mana si sa iau, si daca ma murdaresc, ce? Pacatele se spala si mergem mai departe. Zorba zicea el bine ce zicea. "E-o taina muierea, jupane! Poate sa pice de-o mie de ori, de-o mie de ori se va ridica de jos fecioara. (...) Pentru ca nu-si aminteste."
Mi-e foame sa citesc, mi-e foame sa scriu. Am obosit de atata lectura serioasa, vreau sa fiu pacalita, facuta sa rad, sa astept urmatoarea pagina cu sufletul la gura. Vreau sa stau pe varf de munte si sa scriu prostiile care-mi trec prin cap, oricat de siropoase imi par mai tarziu, fara groaza de public, fara presiunea secretului. Ma vreau inapoi fara griji pentru viitor, fara morala, fara smerenie. De data asta nu mai vreau sa-mi pese. Zicea astazi o gagica in Miami Ink despre cum vrea ea sa abordeze viata. Atunci cand se face instructia pentru masuri de siguranta in avion, se spune pasagerilor ca atunci cand masca de oxigen cade, sa si-o puna lor insisi mai intai. Pentru ca nu poti avea grija de altii daca nu ai grija de tine mai intai. Stiu cum sa ma fac fericita, trebuie doar sa-mi dau voie.

Friday, May 15, 2009

17 again


I just watched the movie and in a very silly way it got to me. It's more about getting me to think about being 17. I was actually nostalgic earlier today and it makes me sad that I don't remember much and I stopped writing frequently in my diary right about that time. I remember we were hungry for freedom. I remember jokes and parties. Oh, if I stop to think, lots of things come back to me, especially related to the people in my life. My babe lived a great love story during that summer. I had a nice boyfriend who broke up with me because I didn't want to commit (lol). Then I almost got into an alcoholic coma, the two events being unrelated. My friends stood by me all night. In august we all went up to the mountains together and at night everybody had a different kind of paranoia. In autumn we were partying in Hard and singing in the cemetery (probably this post won't make it here for more than a week). It was the season of the 18th birthdays and we had so much fun together. Dancing at every party, we didn't let them close one time. In December I hooked up with my high school sweetheart. I was so in love I didn't need food or sleep or air. I was always scared it's too good to be true. Turns out it was. I'm going on 23 and that's my damn scary age. I look in the mirror and I'm scared. Although I bet my skin and hair look better than then, I feel I'm drying up, it's like every minute now I'm going to be 50 wondering where it all went. My brother was not even in school yet then. I didn't have money for pretty clothes, and that made me feel less than sometimes, or money for a camera, although I was taking a photography class. I had never been out of the country and I had no idea that when the real reasons to cry come along, I'd be out of tears. I would cry out of anything, I was such a sissy. Most of the friends I had then are still here. If I could do it all over again, I'd do the exact same things. I might be scared of where I am right now, but I like where it got me.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

I killed the prom queen*


OMG, this spring ball is probably my last dance while in school. I didn't go to the banquet last year, when I graduated, so I figure once in four years I can wear an inappropriate dress and try hard not to get drunk because I'm on high heels. When I was 15, I had a too tight dress and I was crying on a swing. When I was 19, the dress was too short and I was continuously on the phone. This time I fear the cleavage is quite too much, but, oh, well, at least the dress is comfortable and long enough. The heels will probably kill me, but I'm training for a wedding anyway. I don't have a partner and I feel there is no need for one. This is CEE, single women are as common as corruption. There is no stigma associated to showing up all by yourself. I generally dislike having a plus one at parties. They make me think I'm more wild that I actually am.
Today, when I was going to see my internship coordinator, I was thinking about how we can be happy anywhere. There will always be something to complain about if we can't enjoy what's around. I read somewhere that Bob Marley said something like "love the life you live, live the life you love." And I've always thought that the first one should come, well, first. When you start getting the best of what you've got, you can turn it into what you've always wanted it to be. But if you always believe it's not worth to try, you'll keep on being miserable. Change is not built on air.
Then I got really down, I realized I'm such a lazy bone, skipping on my huge load of work. I was bashing myself about how I disappoint people and how being good is not enough, when you're not the best. But looking at it a little from the outside, I see that we are our worst critics. We don't like people because we assume they don't like us. We don't do things because we assume we can't do it. Well, another thing I read somewhere is that life is not about finding, but about inventing ourselves. We should allow ourselves to be at peace from time to time.

*It's actually the name of a band, as I happened to notice just now. They play some metalcore and i must say it's really catchy. I can't decide if I love it or hate it. Which is a good sign.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Our last summer


Oh, I'm so so whiny all the time. Thing is I feel brain dead. Not just because it's morning. I was just thinking and realized I don't remember the last few summers except from photographs and small things. I used to have an amazing memory when it came to the good times and the loved ones. I knew every detail, I held on to every tiny souvenir. But now it's empty. I try and try and all I have coming back to me is rage and some sort of dryness in my mouth. I used to think I never hurt. I was sure there were no regrets in my heart. I guess a young soul has an infinite ability to repress the evil. And I guess I'm growing older. The more I become at peace with myself, the more I feel the need to keep the wrong ones out. And I'm thinking now that if I don't love others unconditionally and don't find excuses for them anymore, maybe I'm becoming one of those authoritarian people I hate, who are always judging the world by their own standards. But now, the more time I spend with others, the more I remember of what I am not. And it shreds me to pieces that what I actually am is hardly visible and I'm not the girl to put it all out there. The things I like never fell in the blueprints of a stereotype. Most people have coherent personalities. Being mediocre is the only thing I was avoiding all this time.
And now that the whiny has been covered, I must say I can't decide whether I like to stay here, all alone and pretending I'm working, or to go home, where the voices of my family wake me up in the morning and the food is great. Maybe I woke up with a rock on my chest. I have no idea. But it's already summer and I've seen so much of the walls of this room, but I can't get out. I do things for fun, I walk and take photos and go to parties and see places. But I sometimes wish we were all butterflies and this is a cocoon. That there is something great for me out there.
Putting myself to sleep, I was trying to make a list of what I want for my birthday. Truth is, it's nothing money can buy. Or at least partially. As weird as it may seem, I actually want a job. But one where I'd feel I'm making a difference. That I'm not just a corporate slave or civil paper pusher. One that would keep me working overtime just because I like it. The money is not such a big issue. My lifestyle does not need much, but of course I'd love a good salary. I'm going to career fairs and sending out applications, asking everybody to give me a hint when they hear of something. I need a break in my academic career [sic!] before I'm left with one dry neuron. As for other things, I want a place of my own and I don't want to share. I had my first kiss when I was 13. Ten years of dating sucked the life out of me. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of the butterflies in the stomach and the waiting by the phone. I want around me just the men who make me happy. For example, I spent last week with Kusturica. I'll probably hit a photo exhibition of Anton Corbijn (director of Control)this week. And I'll shoot hoops with my brother very soon. There's plenty of fun for me out there if that's what I'm looking for. But a place of my own would make me very very happy. And so that I can have three things on my list, I want to travel around. I'll do that a lot this summer, I might even end up in Poland. As for the stuff money can buy... I don't feel like anything's missing. Of course, earrings and books and tea are never enough.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go to tabloid covers


I just stumbled upon Taylor Swift's new video, and I was thinking that there are beautiful and talented girls who are successful without taking their clothes off. With all the Disney slutty stars (starting with Britney and now Miley) around, it's comforting to see that such a sweet girl is touring the world. We can have innocent stars and we can have people other than WASP men ruling the world. Lots of people around me have been expressing their concern with moral decay or endangerment of the human race due to several ecological and health issues. In some parts of the world the gap between the poor and the rich is getting larger. But at the same time, in previously poorer countries the middle class is booming. When Buddhists encourage us to live in the now, they refer to a state of consciousness, not to being blind to the larger picture. The world is huge, there's billions of us and growing. And the world has a past. Whenever we start complaining about little things, we fail to see how lucky we are to complain about that, how much we have grown compared to previous generations. I've always thought that growth is not a good thing for everybody and I've always inclined towards the left, but I must say I don't wanna be in my mother's shoes at my age. It was the year she gave birth to me. The Communist regime had tightened the belt: she had to wait for hours in line to get some milk and she had to bribe the doctor for some formula. Six months after giving birth she had to go back to work and because of the smell of chemicals, I refused breastfeeding afterward. She and my father were working in shifts and I had to stay a few months with my grandmother. When my mother came to see me, I would not recognize her. In order to get a subsidized apartment, because we were living in a worker's residence when I was born, she walked around the city in the hot summer with me in a baby-carriage. It was very hard to raise a child in 80s Romania, even for two parents who both worked and had support from their parents. Imagine people with many kids and nothing to feed them, as meat was almost impossible to find and even for oil you had to go to the other side of the town. The nostalgic are the ones who enjoyed privileges, not the majority of the population. Watching "Children of the Decree", I was not sad, but angry. And not angry at the dead, by at those who keep preaching we need an authoritarian rule. The ones who want women to continue doing double shifts and have children till exhaustion because they are sinners anyway. The ones that think that gypsies should be sent away because they are dirty and thieves. The ones who are not touched by what the regime did to disabled children. The ones that despise whatever is different and have never bothered to be kind to the oppressed. Those people were definitely dissatisfied then too. Those people always have something to complain about, but they are all filthy cowards who cannot speak up against injustice because they were only pursuing their own interest.

Monday, May 4, 2009

My life kicks ass. Including mine


I've never even dreamed of having a pool downstairs. I've never dreamed of a clean, warm and quiet library, stacked with whatever my papers would require. I love living in a large city. I can walk around for days and still feel like it's the first time I've laid my eyes on it. I have all the time I want to just wallow and nobody to bother me. But it's exhausting. When the standard of living goes up, so do our expectations. Of ourselves. I'm working hard on building some self-discipline. I'm making myself listen to that pile of music I've collected thinking I'll play them the next day. I'm pushing harder to work out and eat healthy. The Easter holiday was a complete disaster for my body. I cannot go up the stairs to second floor without feeling like my heart will explode through my ears. I cannot stop craving for the greasy food and creamy deserts. I am a tea and salad person, but in between healthy meals I keep my mind busy so that I don't fantasize about a Whopper or spicy potato chips. Talking about keeping my head busy, it's also hard to get back on track with the huge amount of reading and the daily one pager I'm trying to impose on myself. The truth is I actually enjoy the exhaustive life much better. I sleep well, my back or head doesn't hurt anymore and I feel good about things around me. I might even become a good person if I somehow burn all the residual anger away.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

No, fotoblog de Cluuj


Marti am avut un moment de euforie. Mi se intampla rar si de multe ori cand eram pe drum. De data asta a fost ca un vant puternic, un vant care nu te loveste, ci te ia cu totul de pe picioare. Am vazut primii copaci infloriti. Undeva pe granita. Am cascat gura ca un copil mic, am facut ochii mari, mi-a venit sa chicotesc, sa plang, mi-am infipt unghiile in scaunul din fata. Timp de vreo doua minute, unul dupa altul, pomii incarcati de minuni albe treceau prin dreapta mea. De fapt, eu treceam pe langa ei. Bine, autobusul. Irelevant. E unul din momentele acelea nebune de noi inceputuri. Cand te trezesti din amorteala, cand iti promiti ca nu vei mai lasa nici o minune sa treaca pe langa tine. Cand vine in sfarsit primavara in adancul meu.
Si cata nevoie aveam de petale albe sa spele urmele lasate in tarana. Acolo unde mai erau candva radacinile capacitatii mele de a uita de mine. Chiar daca iert de fiecare data, o parte marsava din mine nu ma lasa sa uit. Sa uit ca s-a intrat cu bocancii in sufletul meu, ca dincolo de cuvintele care imi repetau ce vroiam sa aud, am ajuns de fiecare data sa ma tarasc singura din prapastie. Si atunci cad de fiecare data cand imi amintesc. Iar daca acum mi se intinde mana, nu o sa o prind. Nici una din cele care m-au impins. Eu nu ma intorc. Am invatat destule cand ma cataram inapoi. Si acum am dat de soare. Acum pot sa acopar groapa si sa sadesc in loc un puiet. Singura. Ca sa pot sa uit de mine si fara a fi ametita.
Si dupa atata lenevit in coconul meu calduros din Pesta m-am intors la Cluj. Acasa? Ei, lumea e casa mea! :D Fotoblogul de Cluj era menit sa inceapa de vreo luna. Fotografia de mai sus e facuta in ultima mea vizita acasa. Incercam sa surprind un porumbel care se uita gales la mine. In schimb, m-am ales cu niste pixeli din aripile lui. Ma gandeam sa trec astazi prin centru sa vad daca mitingul studentesc o sa iasa cum era planificat. Adevarul e ca mi-e lene si am ramas la o mamaliga cu branza. Am vrut sa scriu despre cum mi-au stricat parculetul preferat din Babes, despre cum Somesul era malos si cum nu am apucat sa vad nici un film de la Dialektus, desi am avut vreme sa sarbatoresc de doua ori 8 martie. Dar asta a fost atat de demult. Sunt destule de povestit despre Clujul cel nou. Odata ce imi inving timiditatea si ies in lume. Am avut o tentativa ieri, dar abia am apucat sa trec pe la cateva standuri de la targul de carte. Cu putina vreme buna, in cateva ore arunc la cos sub padure, dar pana atunci ma intorc la Kymlicka.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Back then

There was a wild time when we used to party hard all over the city although we were all sad screwed up teenagers. We don't need to ask for beer money from our mums anymore, but we don't have time to get together. If we do, we leave early, and when we stay up late, we watch movies. We used to write poems and read them over coffee in dirty bars at seven o'clock in the morning. We used to sing so that they wouldn't close the pubs before morning. We used to stumble towards the benches over the riverbanks and we used to sit in front of the cathedral for hours. I used to be madly in love, so much it hurt. So much, I would wake up in the morning and cry just at the thought it could be over. I've ended a lot in the mean while and it doesn't feel the same anymore. We used to be good kids with bad habits. We would make friends so easily, there was no addiction to cells and messenger and we still found a way to get together. I don't skip school anymore. I don't spend hours in a cafe and I don't go to wild heavy metal parties anymore. If I get in a rock bar and I start dancing, I feel like a little freak. I look at guys in leather and I think they are such cliches. I cannot imagine hanging around on the sidewalk and doing nothing for hours. It's all gone and we're still drama queens obsessing over how people don't like us for what we are. But we've learned to hide it better. We've been working hard to fit in. That's how you get lost along the way.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Out with the old and in with the new

Well, here it is. The last official day of winter. The beloved sun is gonna stick around for longer hours and the cold is gonna beat it slowly. Most of my springs have been beginnings. Some wild, some sweet, but March rarely lets me down.
I've been watching some of the worst films I've seen so far. I have a book on my nightstand and I think it's gonna be there for quite a while. The last two weeks have been mostly about graciously not doing much. I'll grow out of it, I just need my rest. That's why in a few days I'll be home.
I got to thinking about friendship. I am not familiar with proper friend behavior. Even when my friends ask me out, it's likely that I'll say no. I rarely call just to see how they're doing. I meet them when I'm out and usually don't make plans with them. I sometimes give them presents or think about ways to humor them, but I do that just for the people who are very special to me. But people know that anytime they need me, I will answer the phone, even if it's the middle of the night. I will think about them dearly when they're not around and I will make a wish for them when they need a little magic help. I know I don't seem warm and dependable, but I just try to keep people happy. They all know that.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I'm not there

I haven't expressed much criticism to anything lately. I feel that I'm growing boring as I spend my time within these walls. I can write about the movies I've seen or about how angry I get sometimes in school. I'm no longer a top student and being mediocre is one of the things I've feared the most throughout my life. Being less than. Being half wit. But then again I can just sit and think about the work I put in. And it's not much. I'm exhausted most of the time. And I sleep quite more than enough. It all builds up. But I'm waiting for the snow to melt and for the cold to go away. There will be tiny green leaves and plenty of sunlight. I'll wear sandals and put the wool gloves in the back of my closet. I'm dreaming of spring as a means to bring me back to life. To stop taking things so seriously, to enjoy all that's out there for a twenty-three year old. It's my scary age. But I'll kick twenty three's ass and have a great year off. And I want to start now. Because making plans is nice. But things have to begin somewhere.
The work never ends. Piles and piles of books and papers and they keep buzzing me annoyingly. The moment I stop for a while, it just builds up to a day of anxiety later on. But I still don't care right now. I'll just read some, finish the movie, swim in water or in dreams. I'll just be, cause that's what we do anyway with our lives. Again, I can hardly find the keys.

Monday, February 23, 2009

I take that back

Oh, this year's Oscars were a thrill. Not only did Sean Penn get the Oscar for best actor, but they also got one for the original screenplay. I almost started to cry when I listened to their speeches. Dustin Lance Black is a talented young man who could stand up with an Oscar in his hands and talk of gay marriage in a US that voted for prop. 8 in the 21st century. That was just wonderful. My heart is melting. I feel happy about the other awards too. I think that it was written for Slumdog to make it to the Oscars as, given the general Western preference, it was quite unlikely two years ago. The East has broken the habit and even the best foreign film went to Asia, this time Japan, kicking some French ass big time.
Can you imagine it's been carnival weekend? And outside it's snowing like hell. I guess the dancing that's supposed to blow winter away doesn't help much this year. As much as I'm trying, I cannot get myself back to work. I read, yes. But the actual writing... oh, I only do it pressed by deadline. Well, there are three deadlines today, so at one point I'll just have to start. I wanna watch RocknRolla in bed. But I have to be a good representative today and attend meetings. I'm gonna get pissed. I'm gonna jump at someone's throat. Or I'll just think about something else. I'm not in the mood to lobby for anything. And I sure as hell don't wanna go out in that wet cold.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

The paradise just around the corner

Screw the Oscars. I have watched some of the movies competing tonight and I still have a larger place in my heart for Milk. I know it is not a masterpiece of cinematography, not as intriguing as others, or not as cheering. But I have a great deal of sympathy for social movements and I believe in down-to-earth struggle and will rather than faith. Of course, it's centered around a specific character. But then again, aren't all our stories that way? I always get the look when I state such preferences. It would be hard for my mum to even watch a movie with gay men, but even so to endorse it. It happens that my friends have nationalistic views. It happens that some are even misogynists. If I ask for freedom of conscience, I have to accept it for others too. But I can always piss off all the uptight sissies with limited views of the world. And I enjoy it.
I finally finished Llosa's book and I just wish I would have been the one who wrote it. I guess I am already too much socialized into South-American literary tradition to fully taste the vigor of his writing. It's the story of the last years of life of Paul Gauguin and his grandmother's Flora Tristan. She was a writer and social activist in France and he was a painter living in Tahiti. She wanted equality for the poor and the workers and for women and he believed that a true artist needs to be in intimate contact with his savage self. They were both reformers who fought for freedom of those oppressed by the bourgeoisie or the colonists or the church or any kind of uniform. It makes you wonder about how complex all our lives are in the backstage, where we undress from our dreams and mission. I was amused towards the end where a fictional meeting of Flora and Marx was described. She was a pistol and shooed the titan who was waiting for the printers away. We all have a different view of this paradise lingering just around the corner. But maybe few are so brave as to leave searching and working for it.

Out of order

I just looked in the mirror and freaked out about what I saw. The cold, the exhaustion, the depression really got to me. I am pale, my lips are dry and almost violet and all around my eyes there is a gray shade. I feel like everything is moving in slow motion and it's difficult even to write. I just have to say something, I hope it comes through. I did not run away and I did not fall apart or grow cold. I still know I had everything, but I just moved on not necessarily to be happy, but to stop being miserable.
With the oh so emo attitude set aside, I must say my belly is happy. I just came back from dinner. We went to our colleagues from Ghana and had some of their traditional food. I really liked most of it. The spicy soups were great and the fufu went just right with them. Also, the cabbage and carrot thing was tasty and the things that looked like bananas. It was fun and I was hard to convince to go, since I forgot to announce my intention to attend. But they were great hosts and I have to say my heart was filled with warmth tonight, as I feel my colleagues are all so nice.
The exam went great. I picked easy subjects and I was quite fast and accurate. The whole course was exciting and I wish we could have done twice as much as we did. I feel network analysis could be a wonderful supplementary tool for sociologists. So now I'm left with one day of weekend. I have just so much work that I feel lost. I am almost falling asleep on the keyboard. Hope tomorrow posts will stop being whiny again. Until then, I'll delete a stupid post to revenge my broken mojo.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Addiction

I've been watching quite a lot of movies lately and part of them were stories of heroin addicts. I don't know much about drugs, but I know about breakdowns. I got in a weird mood after writing the last post and I think it was also Pink Floyd that threw me into the hole again. That black hole I've been talking about a while ago. The one I thought I was pulled out of. I think I was not. I just went up a few meters. I'm not out, but I still feel like I'm climbing. This week I wasn't in the mood for much. No going out, no serious work, no healthy living. Just movies and sleep. 'Sid and Nancy' was terrible. I loved Sean Penn in 'Milk' and I cried at 'Lilja 4-Ever'. Bunuel and Dali's 'Un chien andalou' really hooked me on, I watched it twice and I fear it's gonna haunt my dreams. 'Candy' is an Australian movie about junkies. But to me it's more about how certain things become everything to us and we'd rather go to the end of the world than give them up. Yesterday I was all feminist bitch in my head, planning on writing of white male oppression. But I think some anger bits have to be left with myself and would just make me sound silly anyway.
I went shopping for food today, but indulged in other spending as well, just to make myself happy. There are things that we do for the people we love. And we complain for never getting such things from them. Well, I can now do it all for myself. And I can admit to being self-centered. One way or another, I'll get out of the hole. I'll want to get out of bed in the morning. It was snowing again this afternoon. Snowflakes keep surprising me when I go out of the metro station. I always get in this stupid numbness mood before exams and deadlines. And I stop caring. Wrong moment each time. And now I pray I can get myself together at least tomorrow.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Brain dead

I spent almost 12 hours in the university today, went to one class, one meeting, read half of a text and stared at a blank word page for half an hour. The rest of the time, I was waiting, forgetting appointments, eating way too much, listening to pranks on the radio and talking to people. 12 hours. And almost no work. I am exhausted and need to get myself back together. I wish I read as many books (fiction, not the other stuff I read each day) as movies I see, and I've been watching quite a lot lately. I wish I'd spend as much time working out as I spend planning for, cooking and having meals. I wish I'd work as much as I sleep. I wish I'd go out as much as I surf the net. I have this nice image of how I'd like to do things. But then again, I think I'm that kind of friend to myself that lets me indulge.
I watched 'Brokeback Mountain' last night. I'm not gonna try to review this one too. Just a thought. It was so deeply touching. And the story flowed naturally. It is a wonderful love story, with the 'Tristan and Isolda' elements specific to Western love mythologies a French essayist whose name I'm trying to remember for days was mentioning in his book. Crazed my heart that's longing for the outdoors. I've been dreaming a lot today. I've been seeing someone in people I meet on the street. It must be that I'm tired.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Confessions of a maniac

I can't decide whether I like or hate laundry day. I think that I actually just hate the laundry machines. They always leave detergent stains on the black clothes, which today I had to rinse by hand. Moreover, the drier is going crazy. When it dries the clothes, they shrink a lot. Last time it only dried them half and I had to lay them all around the room. Today, it almost dried them, so now the cotton stuff is wrinkled, the pullovers are covering the room and I have to do the inconceivable for a student: iron. I am not really complaining, as people who know me well have figured I fold my socks and have a weird preference for orderliness and cleaning. I have tens and tens of boxes. I like things in their own place. I mean it in centimeters. Not just in their own drawer. In. Their. Own. Place. It's not that I don't know how to be spontaneous. I've always been that. But I'm growing scared of it and I'm trying to reach a state of control over my life. The little things in my life, I mean. I'm always late and I am obsessed with the clock the first half an hour after i wake up. By the time I have to go out through the door, I always feel like I've got five more minutes. Until I'm twenty late. That's why you need things to be tidy. It takes fifteen minutes to get dressed, brush, put make-up on and throw things in a bag. God knows what I do with the other one hour and a half. I am spontaneous when I make the big decisions. When I get a boyfriend or apply to a school. But if I want to see an exhibition or a play, I need to plan two weeks in advance. It is quite probable in the last moment I will be too lazy to go. Being a maniac who cleans around a lot and has all drawers organized does not make me a balanced person. It just gives me one more issue to obsess over. Not to mention food. I think I have already planned what I will be eating for the next three weeks. But I know at one point I will just get pissed and eat some junk food while feeling guilty for all wrongs in the world for doing that. Working out is not working for me right now. I was planning to go jogging. Yesterday it was snowing in the morning, but in the afternoon it was nice and shiny. Of course, I was too bored and hungry to get out. Now it's sort of snowing, but they've opened the gym. I don't feel like it. I guess I'll try to take it easier. Three times a week should do. And only stairs. I love making plans. Plans. Plans. Plans. My favorite things. Schedules and lists, oh my! They do change all the time. I never remember them. But oh, how I enjoy the making. I think it's some sort of down to earth species of dreaming. I can't imagine otherwise why I waste time making sure I don't waste time. Just saying.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Been Insane

I stumbled upon this on Facebook and looked over it just for fun. After the third song, I had to write it all down. Some are amazing.

RULES:
1. Put your Winamp, iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.

IF SOMEONE SAYS 'ARE YOU OKAY' YOU SAY
Harry Tavitian – Balkan Rhapsody

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
Accept – Drifting Apart

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Pink Floyd – Your Possible Pasts

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Unknown artist – Track 16

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Dropkick Murphys - Turn Off Your Radio (And Turn Me On Instead)

WHAT'S YOUR MOTTO?
Muse - In Your World

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Sugarcult – Pretty Girl

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Cocorosie – Terrible Angels

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Muse – The Gallery

WHAT IS 2 + 2?
Dominique A – Dans un camion

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Placebo – Taste in Men

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Placebo – Slave to The Wage

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
As I Lie Dying – A Breath in the Eyes of Eternity

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Jimmy Eat World – May Angels Bring You In

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Muse – Hyper Music

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
The Doors – Me and the Devil Blues

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Muse – The Groove

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
Travka - Lumini

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Amy McDonald – This is the Life

WHAT DO YOU WANT RIGHT NOW?
Muse - Escape

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
John Frusciante – Untiled #9

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
John Frusciante – Been Insane

Friday, February 13, 2009

Winter is in town

And it's already the middle of February. Skating last evening for me was so so joyful. I'm not a sissy anymore. :) I got up on those skates and gave it a try. I could not get enough. I don't yet move elegantly, I'm more like a dismembered puppet, but it was so refreshing to learn something new. The ice and burning in my cheeks made me feel for the first time in Budapest that it's winter and not just cold. I'd like to do it again. And I feel confident to put on my skis once more. Yeeey!
I wasted most of today making plans for next week. I enjoy having lists and schedules, it makes me feel in control. Talking of control, I've just watched the movie. It's wonderful. The actors are in the right place, I think I can't imagine it with anybody else. I've never heard Joy Division before, but I found it to be poetical music in a way that has not been touched by bands since the seventies. The director was well inspired to go for a linear narration, I believe it also allows you to take a break and enjoy the way he uses decor to make cadres so breath-taking. It felt nice to watch black and white with a hot soup and be so much in love with the wonderful boy Ian Curtis was.
I dropped by Gloria Jean's Coffees. I am not a coffee drinker, but I have a thing for coffee places. My chocolate decaf was very tasty, but I still think it was kind of expensive. The place is cosy and tasteful, I miss having a favorite cafe. It was snowing outside. It's always snowing when I get to Heroes Square lately. But the flakes were tiny enough to escape the lens of my camera. Still, I think this is as far as winter goes in Hungary. I hope I'll manage to be at one of the carnivals next week. To kick out all that was wrong last year and embrace the coming of spring.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Non-aggressive grounds

I might be angry, but I found myself not to be aggressive. I am very sensitive to any kind of aggression or violence and I usually just run and hide. I had this presentation today and I was very worried it will be a disaster, since it had all the chances to be. I slept for too long and only wrote the slides in the morning, following my notes, my language was fragmented because I couldn't get the thought out fine, the presentation itself was shallow and poorly documented and my points highly debatable. What happened in fact was that people listened to me, asked nice questions, made critical remarks but in an encouraging way, so it ended up engaging the group in a discussion that was still continued on the corridor when the class finished. I was so grateful to my colleagues for being so kind to my poor sorry ass. I think the presentation was bad enough not even to be worth listening to. But they were all supportive and even contradicting my points was done in such a non-offensive way, that I did feel we are all learning together. I was also told that my difficulty to find the words is just a break I put to myself, that everything I need, I have it and I just have to believe in me. That was lovely and it totally erased yesterday's horrible experience.
In 'political parties', my only other colleague who is in the class was making a presentation. Of course, his points and logic were very debatable. But I felt that the other department students were just bashing him in a personally aggressive way. And it was not the interventions, but the offensive attitude that hit me so hard. After the class, I felt like crying for hours. When I got home, I did. My colleague, he's a strong chap, he was holding to his guns. If it was me out there, I would've turned to jelly. It hurt me to see him attacked. Oh, if it was me, I would've cried for days. That's just because I'm a sissy. I was trying to toughen up. To stop caring for other people's opinions of me. To fight back. But I still run and hide. I do believe that we can go on in life without being aggressive and get far. I do believe that the ones who adapt better to change can be the ones who know how to avoid certain risk. I think that aggression can get others off your back, but that knowing how to handle things elegantly is worth much more. And I was truly grateful that I can be what I am in my department and people around will accept and like me that way and never bash me around when they don't agree.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Woohoo

I think students from my home town should embrace and enjoy their exam session. Because once you get to CEU, it all seems a nice walk in the park. Having more than a week to study for an exam? From a hundred or two pages of textbook or course notes? Now that's something new and exciting. Try writing the equivalent of a dissertation paper in two weeks on five different subjects. Try reading hundreds of pages of acronyms and numbers in one or two afternoons just to make a twenty minutes presentation. Being an undergrad student was wonderful. Nobody here gives you the time to stay home and study. You get to read on the metro and also slightly mechanical in bed before going to sleep, while you eat or stand in line. You get to work in the library on more subjects at the same time. But you don't get weeks to prepare for exams. You still go to classes, attend conferences and do your readings for the next day. And it's actually easy to survive. If you feel rested and have good time management skills. But being rested is something hard to grasp. Apart from the insomnia caused by anxiety, there is all the thinking of how to structure your works, how to handle debates, how to put things together in a way that is comprehensible enough for the other colleagues and sophisticated enough for the teacher. You think about it in the shower, on the street, when watching a movie. There is a lot of brain work involved and we are far from being proficient scholars. We just wake up and survive waiting for the moment we get back to bed. And in that moment we realize that we're still sleeping with our thoughts and they are nasty partners, they hit you in the face and throw you out of bed. Exam session of two months with five to seven exams... oh, dear. That would be heaven on earth.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Exhausted and cranky and stars

It's one of those days when the metro doors close right in my face. When every girl in the room is pretty and I'm the only inappropriate one. When they steal my whole unopened carton of milk from the fridge. When I'm late for classes and when although it was snowing all day, it starts raining as I go outside. Even so, I loved it.
I didn't have a very nice sleep. I woke up at some point and was in a delirium for the next hours, somewhere between annoying repetitive senseless dreams and stressed out about the world awake. But somehow I've made it through and the sky was bright. Well, at least for the next half hour, before I got to see the sun, it was already well-hidden. I couldn't finish more than half of my lunch. I didn't finish my readings and didn't work out as much as I planned to. But at least I did bits of each and I ran around six to the museum.
I am so sorry I did not take a camera with me. As I was going out of the metro station, snowflakes were all around me, before I even got to take a look around. I had to wait for almost 40 minutes for the tour to start, because they were serving drinks. I did not touch a drop, as I am on a four week self-discipline exercise of being alcohol-free. But then my group got the pretty curator assistant who showed us around. Thomas Ruff is indeed a fascinating artist. He can play with war and color and porn. The thing I like most about contemporary art is that it is so much centered around a discourse and devoid from that, it loses meaning. There is of course one thing or another that catches your eye, but without the story, it is not worth that much to you. My strongest reaction was to a newspaper photo of an old Ceausescu. That particular room just reminded me of how we need to put images in stories. Well, some of us. But there is a constant trade-off between our stories and the images. I'll try to move through the exhibition step by step, but I feel I cannot do a very good guide job. The first large room had works that were somewhat psychedelic, but which actually just talked about the color essence of images. They were actually several manga drawings superposed and printed on Plexiglas. Then there were some tri-dimensional games of curves, processed by computer after mathematical functions and printed to canvas. They were a more playful thing, a game of photographers trying to reach a tri-dimensional representation of space. I also liked the jpegs that were taken from different smaller photos and enlarged to an extent where you only had in front of you a pixelated image... and the point was to see that the image was beyond the photograph, and that the photograph does not grasp reality. There were two series of portraits. One that made Ruff famous, was of random people with no specific expression. I guess that was a way of underlining the actual lack of identity the photography entails and also that we are not that different to a camera. The second was another playful experiment, of taking elements of faces and making portraits out of them, sort of like the guy that takes sketches for the police. My personal reaction was that I knew every single one of those people. They all looked like somebody I could not put my finger on. I mentioned the newspaper photos, which taken away from the text, are actually good photography. They are also full of meaning and I believe there was one to create a feeling in every person who saw the exhibition. I also liked the camera surveillance-like photos, where the viewer is intimidated by his power of night vision over others who cannot see back. They are void landscapes, kind of creepy, kind of homely. The porn works were more than daring. It was blurred photos of images taken from the internet, a discourse on how we are all addicted to images and how they have power over us. And, nonetheless, the stars... ah, the stars. These were taken using telescopes at different times and the closer you get, the more stars you see. It is for me a way to feel tiny and amazed by all that's out there.
When I saw the brochure, I did not imagine you can live such an exhibition and also not that it can teach things. I am not the artsy type, but I did get a taste for it and I want more.

Who do you look up to, morrons?

There is indeed a need for regulation all over the European Union and I understand the measures they are trying to implement in the food sector. But for crying out loud, why do we not do things gradually? It is such a stupid thing to pass a law that will not allow shepherds to sell their dairy products without approved packing and other restraints. It is a stupid thing to do such a thing all of a sudden. You need to create frameworks that would allow them to adapt to such legislation. You need to create a new market for their products, give them support in making the needed changes. Now how is somebody who all his life has been moving around the country for sheep grazing make business? How is he going to contract some firm to pack his products? Who will transport it? How to cover the costs? And moreover, how would he know the market for the all new shiny products? It is something that shepherds cannot dream over one night. There is such an increasing interest in the European Union for traditional food. The Spanish and French are adding each year more of their traditional products to a list of protected recipes, but Romania has not even registered one. I heard they are working now towards doing that for a type of jam. Well, how hard can that be? If they are really committed to preserving the cultural heritage and encouraging small organic producers to go on larger markets, the state bodies should adopt measures to encourage that. Screw just lining up to EU legislation, get over yourselves and do it in a sustainable way.
Talking about sustainability, guess who's holding stocks in the Rosia Montana Gold Mining Company? The very own George Soros. And of course, CEU students are activists of sustainability. My ass. There is an obvious link between the new government and the increase in the price of the mining corporation's stock. I believe we can call that an association, to say the least. Why does everything have to be so freaking neo-liberal-oriented in some key parts of the Soros gospel that they brainwash us to spread around the world, and how can they preach sustainability at the same time? Are natural resources such as mountain landscape and wildlife really less precious than gold? Is our health less precious than expensive stock trade? Who do we want to be? The US drinking hormone-filled milk, moving mountains from one side to the other just to get the gold out cheaper? Is it really sustainability that the EU is trying to approach and why doesn't Romania understand from time to time that the immense richness it has is not in the freaking mountains full of gold, but on them, in the woods, the air and especially the wonderful people that still inhabit them? Now I'm really pissed.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

"and if you don't start undressing me soon, this is going to turn into a panel discussion"

Watching 'Vicky Cristina Barcelona' makes you long for being in love so badly and then it just cures you back. It made me laugh inside at remembering what it's like to be loved the Spanish way, the shouting at each other in the streets and the constant sway from tenderness to hate. I feel like it's also a beautiful portrayal of how differently women love and how they can all be loved for what they are. Cristina's struggle to find what she wants and Vicky's ambiguous feelings, Maria Elena's crazy passion... I find them all within us and Woody Allen has done such a good job at telling a candid story that makes you all warm and fuzzy and confused and amused. I'm not good at writing reviews because I always go back to my emotional reactions. But the cast did such a wonderful job, I can't help being amazed.
Rainy day in Budapest, just like at home. I was planning to go jogging tomorrow, but I'll have to settle for a longer walk in the rain. I've been doing some reading today and I'm now hoping to cover most of everything tomorrow. I'm in a good place right now. I do complain a lot to everybody, but I even have a slight idea for a PhD research proposal. I'm still going to seek help. At least until I can have the blurriest idea of what I want. I like this rain. I could stare at it for hours.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Detox

Yeah, it's morning and I'm detoxing. All the smoke and beer was really a bad boost for my low self-esteem. I wanna give up on it. I'm gonna start a one month trial. To get a better grip of myself and learn to deal with things when I'm sober.
It was extremely lovely yesterday. After the economic crisis seminar I took a walk in the park and smiled to myself because finally we had a sunny day in Budapest. The fine arts museum was pretty impressive, all that huge building and the way it was designed to welcome you in an overwhelming way. The El Greco exhibition was brought in from Prado, so I've seen the pieces before, but not in such a comprehensive way. I feel his paintings, especially the early ones, are so powerful. There is this dramatic background, especially the sky, that is grave and even grim. And the way he highlights eyes and hair has this mesmerizing thing. But I think one of his most impressive tools in creating this powerful art is the prolonged and sometimes slightly blurred faces and body shapes, which is fluid in a way, but I just feel it's kinda like being in a dream. Well, I also got to see the Egyptian exhibition, I love so much looking at all the tiny hieroglyphs and being absolutely oblivious. The permanent exhibition was pretty cool. I think Prado is not that much cooler than this. I'm starting to resent all the Middle Ages painting. But I still love the Spanish and the Brits. The French guys are getting boring, although I've seen some impressionist pieces. I've actually been in front of a Gauguin. I know it sounds silly, but for me it was an event. What I found most surprising is that the late German painters are amazingly playful in a very to the point way. I don't know if I can express it. And oh, I would have taken one specific painting home, I don't even recall the name or the painter. It was a huge, slightly impressionist piece of an alley in autumn. It was all color and warmth but also an expectation of a slight chill wind. I loved it so so much. I got tired after two hours of walking around circling rooms holding my head back and my eyes were just blurred after all that brush stroke they've been checking out. I gave up on the idea of coffee, I need excuses to go more often to the park. So I took a nap and it was so comforting to be in bed on a sunny afternoon.
Of course it's back cloudy again. I didn't like Instant that much. It's just some sort of Szimpla and the dancing place is horrifying. Beer is reasonable compared to other places and it's so so crowded. I don't think I'm gonna go around this kind of places anytime soon. I'm easily bored by the same environments when I know there's so much to see out there. And I'm definitely not the artsy underground kind of person. There is somewhere out there a place where I fit perfectly. Finding the perfect spot is a highly demanding quest. You have to go around a lot of shitty places till you find a second home. But when it's there, oh, the feeling you finally belong.