Context: Nessa and G. doing internship applications, one day before the deadline. They decide that Facebook might be a good start and provide good inspiration for the “describe your personal strengths” part. They are eating oranges and they type.
G: An orange is like a person.
The juice represents the tears of suffering. Squeezed by malicious hands, scheming evil. In the late hours of the night.
The seeds represent the waste, the anonymity, the meaninglessness of it all. Taken from the flesh, with cold steely knives, only to be left in the rotting trash piles of Naples.
The shell, outer layer, is the thick carapace of hypocrisy. Of social conventions that bid you to say hi, and bye, and thank you, and thank you very much, while our livers distill the dark, black bile of bitterness... wishing we could instead cut their livers open with our thousand daggers of bubbling sarcasm.
And the flesh... the flesh is all that's left after we've all been harvested and processed for juice.
All that remains is the price tag and bar code.
N: Stop writing about Renaissance theories on my wall. Thank you.
A person is like an orange. Instead of having a deep structure, as for example, onions do, a person is thick-skinned. Like an orange.
Like an orange, a person seems simple. It has an exterior that does not resemble in any way what's inside, and that hides the unexpected. You never know whether an orange is sweet or sour, if you look at its skin.
G: [grabbing the computer] For example, today I was just there sitting on the dinner table, chilaxing, and then we were supposed to ya know, eat them oranges. And we got yer ol oranges, and looked at em, and said, aye, yeah, they're all orange. But you know. Who would have thought. We thought we were looking at an orange. But then, we get em oranges, we open em up, and voila, we get RED ORANGES.
That ain’t no right man. What the heck is A RED ORANGE? What is that? Is that like bright red, or something, is that a color?
NO, no, its gotta be a fruit, i mean, no, its not a color. What the heck is a color, its not even a thing, ya know.
I was there, holding a thing, it was a fruit you know, a Red Orange. First one I had ever seen.
Who would have thought? I wouldn't.
Okay, yeah, back to your point.
N: [annoyed, gets back the computer] That’s touching. Thank you. I am, as I said, touched. Inside. Not like an orange would be touched by a person.
Ok. A person is like an orange.
One day, I grabbed a bag of oranges. It said “Sweet Oranges” on the label.
See? A person is like an orange. LABELED. By the society. Who the hell cared that those oranges were not all the same, some sour, some sweet, some more orange, some thick-skinned, some fat, some skinny, some suculent, some dry, they were all the same in the eyes of the society. And the society has no idea.
Ignorants.
I wonder if oranges label other oranges just like people label other people. They might. Imagine two oranges talking to each other, of course, about a third. “Hah. Have you seen that one? Just because she’s bigger and got to be right under the sun at the top of the tree, she thinks she’s on top of the world.”
G: Okay okay okay sorry I just gotta add somethin' real quick.
You know, I’ve seen many oranges down there, in our tropical homeland, and many a proud orange boasted under the sun:
“Aye lads, look at me!
Look at my shiny armor of protein!
What a great…”
And then it was interrupted, its insides half chewed by a bird.Yeah, that’s about it.
N: Yeah. SEE? The good ones die first. All the time.
G: You see what happens?? The proud orange gets eaten by a bird. Do you see? That’s the moral. Pride.
N: A new La Fontaine is born. But then, I wonder, why aren’t there any orange people in the world?
[30 seconds later]
N: What the hell is that sound?
G: Has the roof of your mouth ever been itchy? It happens to me all the time. Then I have to rub it with my tongue and it makes this noise...I thought it happened to everyone. [sad face]
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
When My Friends Talk, I'm Taking Notes
Context:
Sidney Webb House, London, friends together.
Fragments of deeply engaging conversation that occurred late at night in my room.
G.: I have to discipline myself. If I read 10 more pages I can have two more cubes of chocolate.
Anh: You’re still at page 106. Wait. How come you’re at page 106? When did you read this much?
[long break in conversation]
G.: Oh, I actually started at chapter 6. Page 96.
------
Anh: How many pages are left in this chapter?
G.: Oh not much, not much, I’m halfway through the chapter actually.
[immediately after]
Andrew: Did I scare you?
Anh: No.
G. [to me, as I was typing]: What are you gonna do with that [these notes]? Write a book?
Anh: “The Life of Dinu”
G.: Yeah, write a short story. It’s better. More concise.
------
Anh: Giu’s a teddybear.
------
G.: SO if she [Anh] were 40 pounds more obese than she already is…
Andrew: Wait, where would you put those pounds?
Anh: Seriously, skinny people are so scary.
G.: Yeah, some people are too bony…
Anh: Like, when you throw them around, they don’t have that sponginess.
G.: When more than 50% of your body mass is bone, that’s not ok.
------
Anh: My butt is freezing.
G.: Don’t be obtuse. That’s a very obtuse thing to say.
------
G.: [describing an econ graph] This could be a rollercoaster. It could be anything.
------
G.:You know what this is? It’s chocolate residue dispatched from my hand. [on the new book and my sheets].
Anh: You know how on every 10 pages you get chocolate. You should leave a chocolate mark at every 10 pages.
G.: Oh you know, I could hold the chocolate with my left hand…
Anh: [interrupting G.] I am not listening anymore. I am sorry.
------
G.[randomly]: Ay. Zimbabwe…
N.: What?
Anh: That’s a country.
------
Thursday, November 27, 2008
A Proper Blog Entry
I haven’t written a “proper” blog entry in a long time. Now, however, I do have some random thoughts to share.
1. Instant coffee turns out to be a pretty good replacement for the badly Nessa-made normal one.
2. My friend Dan has been writing quite a lot lately. I have been reading his blog and it's brilliant. Read, enjoy, learn, get informed. Thank you, Dan.
3. London got pretty cold and I don’t have a hat that fits me well yet. I am also systematically afraid that getting a hat might ruin the effects of my newly-acquired professional hair-dryer.
4. Lack of sleep is not good. Unless it happens for a good reason.
5. I decided to spend my New Year’s Eve in Venice and booked the flights already. All I have to do now is inform my parents of my brilliant decision and make them cope with the fact that I will fly low-cost, low-safety, and won’t be home for a week or so. Because I didn’t tell them in advance, I feel adventurous and I am happy about it.
6. I took out about 8 books from the library, for an essay, and read none of them. I like their smell, though.
7. I think it’s worth working for Oliver Wyman primarily because they give you umbrellas and bottle-openers when you go for their company presentations. This clearly shows that they have a vision of what’s important in life, especially when in London. P&G comes second, with their free detergent and free electrical toothbrushes. They have a vision as well, emphasizing the necessary…which should never be placed ahead of the important. Uhm… I also rank them second because I was too shy to get one of those free noisy toothbrushes and I’ve thought about them ever since.
8. I don’t understand why everyone is so excited about the last James Bond movie. I regarded it as plain and unsalty.
9. Body lotion doesn’t have the moisturizing properties of hand cream.
10. I have been discussing the fact that “group dynamics shapes the outcome of foreign policy decision-making, especially in the situation of a crisis” for the last week or so. And I still haven’t finished.
11. It’s my name day on the 6th. Buy me presents.
I love you all, most of the times,
Nessa
1. Instant coffee turns out to be a pretty good replacement for the badly Nessa-made normal one.
2. My friend Dan has been writing quite a lot lately. I have been reading his blog and it's brilliant. Read, enjoy, learn, get informed. Thank you, Dan.
3. London got pretty cold and I don’t have a hat that fits me well yet. I am also systematically afraid that getting a hat might ruin the effects of my newly-acquired professional hair-dryer.
4. Lack of sleep is not good. Unless it happens for a good reason.
5. I decided to spend my New Year’s Eve in Venice and booked the flights already. All I have to do now is inform my parents of my brilliant decision and make them cope with the fact that I will fly low-cost, low-safety, and won’t be home for a week or so. Because I didn’t tell them in advance, I feel adventurous and I am happy about it.
6. I took out about 8 books from the library, for an essay, and read none of them. I like their smell, though.
7. I think it’s worth working for Oliver Wyman primarily because they give you umbrellas and bottle-openers when you go for their company presentations. This clearly shows that they have a vision of what’s important in life, especially when in London. P&G comes second, with their free detergent and free electrical toothbrushes. They have a vision as well, emphasizing the necessary…which should never be placed ahead of the important. Uhm… I also rank them second because I was too shy to get one of those free noisy toothbrushes and I’ve thought about them ever since.
8. I don’t understand why everyone is so excited about the last James Bond movie. I regarded it as plain and unsalty.
9. Body lotion doesn’t have the moisturizing properties of hand cream.
10. I have been discussing the fact that “group dynamics shapes the outcome of foreign policy decision-making, especially in the situation of a crisis” for the last week or so. And I still haven’t finished.
11. It’s my name day on the 6th. Buy me presents.
I love you all, most of the times,
Nessa
Sunday, November 23, 2008
G. and One of The Best Days of The Year
Context:
G. studies in Italy at present and came to briefly visit London…for three weeks. G. loves travelling.
Saturday:
Geeky A. and Nessa (London hosts) decide not to go to Oxford because of schoolwork. They assume they will meet G. back in London on Monday, when he is supposed to return from Oxford where he visits another friend.
They don’t know that:
G. suddenly decides to leave to Bratislava from London.
G. books flight to Bratislava, thinking that a cheap flight is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to visit such a major city. He bases his judgment on the core assumption that some relatives he hasn’t ever seen in his life (relatives that his grandfather mentioned briefly in the past) would welcome him with arms wide open. G. does not think that annoucing his London friends of his departure would be necessary. After all, why would they care?
Saturday night:
London hosts worry about G. They have no idea where he is, or what were the reasons for his sudden departure. They assume he might be dead or robbed. All attemps of reaching G. or anyone else who might have a vague idea of his present situation fail, during the night and early morning.
As a result, A. and Nessa stay up until 5 am. Not necessarily because they’re worried. They need to design the punishment plan for G.’s return. Violence is certain.
Sunday morning:
A. finds out from Oxford friend that G. left to the airport. The destination of his flight is unclear – A. and Nessa assume it’s Italy. Still no sign of G. Anything is still possible, including death or high degree of physical injury.
Sunday afternoon:
G. calls Nessa. From the relatives’ house in Bratislava. He found their phone number and address - IN THE PHONEBOOK.
Nessa and A. do not worry as much anymore – since G. has a charged phone and enough money on him. Worst case scenario: G. could get hit by a car or a bike – but the two of them still decide that’s highly unlikely. Bratislava should not be worse than Italy.
Sunday evening:
G. calls Nessa again, for an update on the situation. The family turns out to have a sick son. They attempt to put drugs in G.’s wine. G. also suspects they want to take one of his kidneys and transplant it to their sick son.
G. makes the first wise decision of the past days and leaves their house, while still in one piece. G. books a flight back to London from an Internet Café. He is to return to London the next day, after one evening, night and afternoon spent in the Bratislava airport.
G. shall return right on time to attend the Christmas Party on Monday that he had bought tickets for…unless he misses his flight, gets robbed in the airport, takes a wrong flight, loses his possesions, misses the bus, gets hit by a bike, a car or other such vehicle.
Sunday late evening:
A. calls Nessa. G. has never left Oxford. It was all a two-day bad joke. Incredibly brilliant bad joke. Violent punishment is a must.
G. studies in Italy at present and came to briefly visit London…for three weeks. G. loves travelling.
Saturday:
Geeky A. and Nessa (London hosts) decide not to go to Oxford because of schoolwork. They assume they will meet G. back in London on Monday, when he is supposed to return from Oxford where he visits another friend.
They don’t know that:
G. suddenly decides to leave to Bratislava from London.
G. books flight to Bratislava, thinking that a cheap flight is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to visit such a major city. He bases his judgment on the core assumption that some relatives he hasn’t ever seen in his life (relatives that his grandfather mentioned briefly in the past) would welcome him with arms wide open. G. does not think that annoucing his London friends of his departure would be necessary. After all, why would they care?
Saturday night:
London hosts worry about G. They have no idea where he is, or what were the reasons for his sudden departure. They assume he might be dead or robbed. All attemps of reaching G. or anyone else who might have a vague idea of his present situation fail, during the night and early morning.
As a result, A. and Nessa stay up until 5 am. Not necessarily because they’re worried. They need to design the punishment plan for G.’s return. Violence is certain.
Sunday morning:
A. finds out from Oxford friend that G. left to the airport. The destination of his flight is unclear – A. and Nessa assume it’s Italy. Still no sign of G. Anything is still possible, including death or high degree of physical injury.
Sunday afternoon:
G. calls Nessa. From the relatives’ house in Bratislava. He found their phone number and address - IN THE PHONEBOOK.
Nessa and A. do not worry as much anymore – since G. has a charged phone and enough money on him. Worst case scenario: G. could get hit by a car or a bike – but the two of them still decide that’s highly unlikely. Bratislava should not be worse than Italy.
Sunday evening:
G. calls Nessa again, for an update on the situation. The family turns out to have a sick son. They attempt to put drugs in G.’s wine. G. also suspects they want to take one of his kidneys and transplant it to their sick son.
G. makes the first wise decision of the past days and leaves their house, while still in one piece. G. books a flight back to London from an Internet Café. He is to return to London the next day, after one evening, night and afternoon spent in the Bratislava airport.
G. shall return right on time to attend the Christmas Party on Monday that he had bought tickets for…unless he misses his flight, gets robbed in the airport, takes a wrong flight, loses his possesions, misses the bus, gets hit by a bike, a car or other such vehicle.
Sunday late evening:
A. calls Nessa. G. has never left Oxford. It was all a two-day bad joke. Incredibly brilliant bad joke. Violent punishment is a must.
G.'s Closure
Facebook message:
"wait i just checked, the oxford tube should be coming in about 4 in the afternoon in Victoria Station tomorrow. I can send you a text
Yo dude, sorry, i think i've been dialing too many numbers this past night, i might have called you a couple times. Awwhh dude, Oxford is too crazy, i dont think i can cope with this. Matt took me to meet his Jamaican friend Ayman, and then... we had this big reggae party, and he offered us all this stuff... i think we drank a little bit too much... and they had all these pipes with hashish, i think there was like a giant hookah. It loked like a big octupus, with these 8 pipes.I dont remember much but i think we had some kinda trip to bratislava, and oh god there were kidneys involved... i dunno whose.Poor Matt, after a kebab lunch today he totaly passed out on the bed, with this big headache. But at one point, i think he was making phone calls too, on the phone.I hope we can wake up for class tomorrow morning..."
The problem with G. is that he is one of those people that you consider capable of actually going through or doing crazy things. It's all about his lack of luck. Bad things happen to him all the time. We love you G. You shall still be violently punished though.
"wait i just checked, the oxford tube should be coming in about 4 in the afternoon in Victoria Station tomorrow. I can send you a text
Yo dude, sorry, i think i've been dialing too many numbers this past night, i might have called you a couple times. Awwhh dude, Oxford is too crazy, i dont think i can cope with this. Matt took me to meet his Jamaican friend Ayman, and then... we had this big reggae party, and he offered us all this stuff... i think we drank a little bit too much... and they had all these pipes with hashish, i think there was like a giant hookah. It loked like a big octupus, with these 8 pipes.I dont remember much but i think we had some kinda trip to bratislava, and oh god there were kidneys involved... i dunno whose.Poor Matt, after a kebab lunch today he totaly passed out on the bed, with this big headache. But at one point, i think he was making phone calls too, on the phone.I hope we can wake up for class tomorrow morning..."
The problem with G. is that he is one of those people that you consider capable of actually going through or doing crazy things. It's all about his lack of luck. Bad things happen to him all the time. We love you G. You shall still be violently punished though.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Oh, well.
Context:
**The fact that 7 million people travel daily through
Monday, September 15, 2008
Magazines, Scortzishoara, Challenges, Wall-E and Stocks
Lots of things have been going on lately. With myself too, but especially in the stock market.
Today, I came back from the mountains to discover that Lehman filed for bankruptcy and no other bank offered to acquire them. Their stock went down 75% in three days, after a bad earnings release last week. I wouldn't have expected bankruptcy, though... I probably put emotions ahead of reason too much on this one.
Then! Bank of America purchased Merrill, instead of buying Lehman, as people thought initially. The Dow is now under 11,000 and the commodities' price did not increase at all, to hedge the fall in stocks; crude oil fell to $94 per barrel. Basically, it sucks. This whole sub-prime-backed-mispriced-high-risk-derivatives-combined-with-unrealistic-expectations-
to-cause-a-domino-effect-in-a-not-so-efficient-market thingie.
I count on the thought that people will understand: those who take on more risk than they can handle will - sooner or later - get hurt. And that the whole market tends to return to an efficient, more balanced mean in the longer run. So, in a way, I support the government for not pumping any money to save Lehman. On the other hand, I worry about the people who work in these troubled institutions and who will be fired, and I worry even more about the young, enthusiastic ones who just got job offers there. Some of my friends included. Sadly, the internship prospects for next year go hand in hand with this "let's fire people to reduce costs" mechanism.
Apart from the financial happenings that I am more or less addicted to, I haven't been able to follow the news as closely. This kept me away from both the global wonders and suffering. Can't wait to get to school, get a stable address and some magazine and newspaper subscriptions attached to it. Then I'll find out in fashionable time about hurricanes, people and peoples, conflicts and the inability of governments to solve them, infamous presidents, new books and places to explore around the world.
Random thoughts:
#1. One of the things that I miss from Vassar is Scortzishoara (Cinnamon). My guitar, that I played neither well nor often, but dearly.
#2. Each individual has something to offer. It is important to wake up every day with an open, non-judgmental mind. It is also important that I remember this, regardless of my surroundings.
#3. The last few weeks have been, in some ways, challenging. One challenge, that I failed to overcome, was the fear of bungee jumping. Another challenge was to understand actively that when one feels vulnerable, one is more likely to react violently.
#4. At present, none of the parts of my body are misplaced.
#5. I went to a random check last week, and the doctor seemed to measure all the quantities in "spoons of", even if he talked about honey, polenta or cereals. I couldn't stop laughing - but the doctor was young.
#6. To all of the people who thought (b/c of the bad television programs in my home country, combined with the lack of general knowledge of those who watch them) that they might die, as the end of the world was coming: please write your will, and put my name on it.
#7. Don't talk, just let me look at you.
Background voices going on in my head have been saying lately:
"Wall-ee?"
"Eeeee-vaaa!"
I finally watched Wall-E. I absolutely and completely loved it. And I would never sleep through it, if sleep were a function of my will exclusively.
Today, I loved you all.
Good night!
Today, I came back from the mountains to discover that Lehman filed for bankruptcy and no other bank offered to acquire them. Their stock went down 75% in three days, after a bad earnings release last week. I wouldn't have expected bankruptcy, though... I probably put emotions ahead of reason too much on this one.
Then! Bank of America purchased Merrill, instead of buying Lehman, as people thought initially. The Dow is now under 11,000 and the commodities' price did not increase at all, to hedge the fall in stocks; crude oil fell to $94 per barrel. Basically, it sucks. This whole sub-prime-backed-mispriced-high-risk-derivatives-combined-with-unrealistic-expectations-
to-cause-a-domino-effect-in-a-not-so-efficient-market thingie.
I count on the thought that people will understand: those who take on more risk than they can handle will - sooner or later - get hurt. And that the whole market tends to return to an efficient, more balanced mean in the longer run. So, in a way, I support the government for not pumping any money to save Lehman. On the other hand, I worry about the people who work in these troubled institutions and who will be fired, and I worry even more about the young, enthusiastic ones who just got job offers there. Some of my friends included. Sadly, the internship prospects for next year go hand in hand with this "let's fire people to reduce costs" mechanism.
Apart from the financial happenings that I am more or less addicted to, I haven't been able to follow the news as closely. This kept me away from both the global wonders and suffering. Can't wait to get to school, get a stable address and some magazine and newspaper subscriptions attached to it. Then I'll find out in fashionable time about hurricanes, people and peoples, conflicts and the inability of governments to solve them, infamous presidents, new books and places to explore around the world.
Random thoughts:
#1. One of the things that I miss from Vassar is Scortzishoara (Cinnamon). My guitar, that I played neither well nor often, but dearly.
#2. Each individual has something to offer. It is important to wake up every day with an open, non-judgmental mind. It is also important that I remember this, regardless of my surroundings.
#3. The last few weeks have been, in some ways, challenging. One challenge, that I failed to overcome, was the fear of bungee jumping. Another challenge was to understand actively that when one feels vulnerable, one is more likely to react violently.
#4. At present, none of the parts of my body are misplaced.
#5. I went to a random check last week, and the doctor seemed to measure all the quantities in "spoons of", even if he talked about honey, polenta or cereals. I couldn't stop laughing - but the doctor was young.
#6. To all of the people who thought (b/c of the bad television programs in my home country, combined with the lack of general knowledge of those who watch them) that they might die, as the end of the world was coming: please write your will, and put my name on it.
#7. Don't talk, just let me look at you.
Background voices going on in my head have been saying lately:
"Wall-ee?"
"Eeeee-vaaa!"
I finally watched Wall-E. I absolutely and completely loved it. And I would never sleep through it, if sleep were a function of my will exclusively.
Today, I loved you all.
Good night!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Happy Bubble Burst
I got very excited today as I came back from my grandparents and checked how things are going on on Bloomberg.
As I predicted, oil was in a bubble. It fell all the way to $108 from its $145 peak in July. That's under the $110 limit that I was expecting - even if the Dow is just partially stable. Congrats to all of those who were shorting it! We'll see what's going to happen next.
Small things like this make me so happy sometimes :))
As I predicted, oil was in a bubble. It fell all the way to $108 from its $145 peak in July. That's under the $110 limit that I was expecting - even if the Dow is just partially stable. Congrats to all of those who were shorting it! We'll see what's going to happen next.
Small things like this make me so happy sometimes :))
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
It Is Not Cheese, It Is A Sponge...
Turns out that my cheese-shaped mug is not cheese-shaped, but sponge-shaped.
It is also called Sponge-Bob. I was supposed to remember this/know Sponge-Bob. Guess I'm too in love with cheese to make the difference. And I haven't watched Sponge and Patrick as a child.
Deep apologies :)
It is also called Sponge-Bob. I was supposed to remember this/know Sponge-Bob. Guess I'm too in love with cheese to make the difference. And I haven't watched Sponge and Patrick as a child.
Deep apologies :)
Monday, August 25, 2008
Some More West Coast Thoughts, Some More Randomness...
The driver of the bus I took daily to work was Persian. As a child, he wanted to become a doctor, but that never happened: there were bills to be paid. Some people are not meant to follow their dreams, no matter how hard they try. I don't know whether he is one of them or not.
There is a mosquito in my room. Now, that I turned on the light, it's circling me, the prey, and it's waiting restlessly for my blood. Poor thing, it doesn't know it might get hurt if it gets too close. I do have some anti-mosquito spray around :))
In LA, at Universal Studios, I bought a very nice, cheese-shaped mug. I wanted to bring it home and give it to my 4-year old God son. I didn't manage, however, to fit it in my luggage...nor did I try too hard. I hate packing, I profoundly dislike it actually, especially because of the last 6 months, and, even worse, I... accidentally try to stay away from it for as long as possible - hence the "last minute packing" and the "no-socks-in-the-mug" type of arrangement. I do hope, though, that the nice yellow mug ended up in some nice kid's collection of random objects, together with toys or erasers.
Universal Studios.
We headed there on a partially sunny day, as I recall, and got to our destination after one No. 20 bus passed us as if we were invisible. I am sure the driver thought we enjoyed the bench in the station, the heat, and taking pictures of the wide avenue. The last part was, indeed, true. So, three hours after leaving the apartment, with the help of Providence, we got to the small Universal City. We boarded the bus for a Studio Tour and got to see cars flying/rotating in the air, fire rising from the ground, suddenly flooded streets and the Desperate Housewives' setting. In other words, small, regular, and completely unimpressive aspects of "how to make a movie". Except that I was not a movie professional, and some of these things left me breathless and pretty interested in special or simply clever effects. It would be fun to work in film production or post-production for a while, I thought; only after I had made some money and opened a non-profit for the more unfortunate kids, though.
Not-that-related thought: I think I will end up taking the "Intro to Stagecraft" class at Vassar my senior year.
It is interesting how I got more confortable with various rides, rollercoasters and things of the sort - but I still got caught screaming by their mischievous, hidden cameras. They are wizards, I am sure, specialized in hunting my bad karma, immmortalizing my big open mouth and emptying my wallet. In the "Mummy Ride" picture, I got caught screaming, although the other eight persons around me were casually smiling. R. included, which meant two full weeks of laughter - not with me, but at me. Oh well.
Random thought #2:
"Helen: I can't believe you don't want to go to your own son's graduation.
Bob: It's not a graduation. He is moving from the 4th grade to the 5th grade.
Helen: It's a ceremony!
Bob: It's psychotic! They keep creating new ways to celebrate mediocrity, but if someone is genuinely exceptional..."
I watched the Incredibles last night, thanks to G., whom I asked to improve drastically my movie-related culture this month.
Back to Cali and its wonders.
The place that put a big smile on my face the second we entered was Disneyland. There, I wanted to jump with joy and dance on the streets continuously; I tried not to though, as the prospect of returning home by myself, in a sketchy #460 bus, was not that appealing to me. BAD things can happen if you ride that bus. So yes, Disneyland is the epitome of perfection. I cannot describe it otherwise and do it justice. I would not mind living there, selling pretzels for the rest of my life, having a bunch of temporary 3-year old friends...or playing the mermaid role and hence spending my life "in coada de peste" **. I would see the parade and the fireworks every day, I would go on all the rides and become Mickey's best buddy.
Another important aspect was the great, fairly priced food, on top of the bearable lines and the amazing rides. All the characters were not mere manequins, but works of art, carefully designed, sculpted and painted. And, if they were not sculpted, they were brilliantly shaped by some very, very high quality machines.
Oh! And I learned how to draw Donald the Duck! And, in the end, it did not look like Darth Vader...as I initially thought it would.
Further random thoughts:
I might do bungee jumping in Predeal, while I am in Romania. I hope I don't chicken out in the meantime.
Aaaaand! Don't go watch the X-Files unless your life depends it. It's wiser to wait a bit and watch it at home, for less or for free (depending on the country you're in)...when there's absolutely nothing else for you to do. And please don't curse me if you loved the movie - I choke easily. Advocate for it in the "Comments" field instead, if you wish.
For today, that's all folks! :)
**Romanian saying that can be translated as "on the tail of a fish", and symbolizes confusion, a purposeless situation, that has no follow-up or chances of development.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Random Thoughts from the West Coast
I tried to write about California until now, just like I tried to write about the East Coast last year. And while trying to focus on the big things, on the great experiences that I had there, nothing seemed to work out. I have always been better at seeing the small things and the details - they always mattered to me more.
So there you go. Snapshots of my life on the West Coast.
What I will remember most from LA will probably be the image of Wilshire boulevard, as seen from the Carmelina bus station. I used to get off there every morning to go to work. I could see the long, long street, with rather small buildings on one side and the other. The building of my work, dark brown and incredibly square, was an interesting mixture between a would-be skyscraper and a normal block of flats. I was almost always listening to a song while crossing the street, and was always hoping it would end by the time I got to the office. Of course, that never happened. Imagine working on a company valuation while having Traffic from Tiesto stuck in your head. It is pretty...rhythmic. Oh well.
Thinking of songs, I can't believe that R.'s whispering of "London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down..." is still going on in my head. It will soon reach the first place for "Inappropriate songs that are stuck", as it now rivals "M-am dus sa tai un copac" - Margineanu and "Mi-e frica sa dorm singurica" - Spicy, for which I had an undeliberate passion in 12th grade.
At the Downtown Art Walk, that takes place regularly on the first Thursday of every month, I managed to see the "inner culture" of LA. That is, a bunch of not-yet-discovered talents, wearing their fancy LA-type hats, some actual stars - like the dude who's playing in this comedy group I forgot the name of - and, of course, modern art. Some of it was obviously directed against the Arab world and their customs (or at least that's the only one that provoked a reaction intense enough to be remembered). I thought of people and their inability to differentiate between the extreme forces within a country and the regular people of that nation. Sadly, I was blaming them.They all sit there, in their little boxes and delivering their precious critique, waiting for the others to applaud them. And they do get what they want, as the others cheer, from their even smaller boxes. Of course, I might not be initiated enough in the wonders of modern art to interpret exactly what that fabulous artist wanted to convey.
On the other hand, I remember the wine at that particular gallery was pretty good, and that might have been an obstacle for observing the art at the other places.
For some people, drinking is not placed on the side of the main dish anymore, but it replaces the steak. At almost 21, I decided that I should try having this experience as well, when one drinks for the sake of drinking only, especially since those around me did not know my nerdy self. I failed graciously, not managing to get drunk, and hence not completely enjoying the "Undy-Run": bi-annual event at UCLA that takes place during finals, when all the students run in their underwear. My conclusion was that the Californian bodies are, on average, of the best kind, and that is probably why I was not that impressed by the famous Chippendales...in the end. The two pictures I took with them hurt me profoundly too, as I could've as well bet those $50 and probably earn more. Think, Livia, think!...for when it doesn't happen, the costs are high.
The downtown looks sketchy when the Art Walk is not happening. I regret taking R. there on the first day in LA, when everything he saw was supposed to be "butterflies and flowers". I think there is some kind of misfortune going around among my friend-visitors, as it happened the same with Cata last year. We got out of the Metro to see a not-so-pretty part of New York. Then, we were both disappointed at the prospect of sleeping in a bad hostel and paid $10 for a CD we never listened to. Anyway, in LA, Rodeo Drive was as fancy as it looked in movies, the prices matched its renown. It hence compensated for the other areas.
Random thought: "There are 10 kinds of people: those who understand binary and those who don't".
I made friends in LA. A fashionable small bunch, that I miss a fashionable small bit from time to time. Then, after speding time at the beach, on the Santa Monica Pier, or at a Sunday's farmer's market eating cherries and nuts...or after spending time in a hookah bar or at the Romanian restaurant in Hollywood...or simply at Ralph's, they all left, either to Europe or to China. The main disadvantage of traveling yourself... or having friends who travel a lot... is that they all leave when you least expect it, and you have no idea when you'll see them next. But "not all of those who wander are lost".
Anyway. Back to happy thoughts.
In San Diego, I liked the streets, the tad bit we saw at least. I liked sitting in Starbucks before boarding the train to Anaheim - it was the only time this summer when I managed to sit there and read while sipping from my iced mocha.
I loved SeaWorld, and thought of how beautiful it must be to be able to take your kids there and teach them. I haven't heard of one child in Romania who wants to become an oceanographer, but I have met a decent number of people who wanted to do that in the US. Of course, our country doesn't border the Pacific or the Atlantic.
One of those who wanted to be an oceanographer was a young lady that we met inside Stratosphere Hotel, in Vegas. She was selling fancy body & nail care products and was surrounded by a certain aura. She was smart, energetic and seemed very good at doing her job - I can only hope she will be closer to the ocean, directing her enthusiasm towards what she truly wants to do, for she seemed one of the few lucky ones who knew that with a higher degree of certainty.
In Vegas, everything looks impressive at night, when the city wakes up. Go and see the water show in front of Bellagio - you will love it, go inside the Venetian and hop on a gondola, or take pictures of New York like streets inside New York New York. Then go and watch Jubilee, the cabaret, on a Sunday. Don't buy the most expensive tickets as you might get a seat in the front anyway - as long as you are a blonde and smile nicely to the doorman.
During the day, even if Vegas were impressive one could not enjoy it fully, as it is incredibly hot. The sweat dries out instantly, and you feel as if you walk on top of boiling water - if that were possible. Don't step inside the "World's biggest gift shop", as it may turn out to be a huge waste of time. Go on Fremont street and spend your money there instead. Then buy some booze, mix it with orange juice when nobody is watching, and cheer for better times and more well spent money.
From Vegas, the voice of our gondolier is what I remember most. It seemed artificial, together with his overly polite tone - he was yet so kind. I could feel that he was trying hard. The artificiality of the electric gondola and that of his voice matched the one of the entire hotel. All the pieces came together to form an almost perfect imitation of Venice. It was, indeed, beautiful. I celebrated the place and what I reminded me of with an incredibly delicious gelatto, while sitting on a bench in St. Mark's Square, and thought of the good life that I am living.
So there you go. Snapshots of my life on the West Coast.
What I will remember most from LA will probably be the image of Wilshire boulevard, as seen from the Carmelina bus station. I used to get off there every morning to go to work. I could see the long, long street, with rather small buildings on one side and the other. The building of my work, dark brown and incredibly square, was an interesting mixture between a would-be skyscraper and a normal block of flats. I was almost always listening to a song while crossing the street, and was always hoping it would end by the time I got to the office. Of course, that never happened. Imagine working on a company valuation while having Traffic from Tiesto stuck in your head. It is pretty...rhythmic. Oh well.
Thinking of songs, I can't believe that R.'s whispering of "London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down..." is still going on in my head. It will soon reach the first place for "Inappropriate songs that are stuck", as it now rivals "M-am dus sa tai un copac" - Margineanu and "Mi-e frica sa dorm singurica" - Spicy, for which I had an undeliberate passion in 12th grade.
At the Downtown Art Walk, that takes place regularly on the first Thursday of every month, I managed to see the "inner culture" of LA. That is, a bunch of not-yet-discovered talents, wearing their fancy LA-type hats, some actual stars - like the dude who's playing in this comedy group I forgot the name of - and, of course, modern art. Some of it was obviously directed against the Arab world and their customs (or at least that's the only one that provoked a reaction intense enough to be remembered). I thought of people and their inability to differentiate between the extreme forces within a country and the regular people of that nation. Sadly, I was blaming them.They all sit there, in their little boxes and delivering their precious critique, waiting for the others to applaud them. And they do get what they want, as the others cheer, from their even smaller boxes. Of course, I might not be initiated enough in the wonders of modern art to interpret exactly what that fabulous artist wanted to convey.
On the other hand, I remember the wine at that particular gallery was pretty good, and that might have been an obstacle for observing the art at the other places.
For some people, drinking is not placed on the side of the main dish anymore, but it replaces the steak. At almost 21, I decided that I should try having this experience as well, when one drinks for the sake of drinking only, especially since those around me did not know my nerdy self. I failed graciously, not managing to get drunk, and hence not completely enjoying the "Undy-Run": bi-annual event at UCLA that takes place during finals, when all the students run in their underwear. My conclusion was that the Californian bodies are, on average, of the best kind, and that is probably why I was not that impressed by the famous Chippendales...in the end. The two pictures I took with them hurt me profoundly too, as I could've as well bet those $50 and probably earn more. Think, Livia, think!...for when it doesn't happen, the costs are high.
The downtown looks sketchy when the Art Walk is not happening. I regret taking R. there on the first day in LA, when everything he saw was supposed to be "butterflies and flowers". I think there is some kind of misfortune going around among my friend-visitors, as it happened the same with Cata last year. We got out of the Metro to see a not-so-pretty part of New York. Then, we were both disappointed at the prospect of sleeping in a bad hostel and paid $10 for a CD we never listened to. Anyway, in LA, Rodeo Drive was as fancy as it looked in movies, the prices matched its renown. It hence compensated for the other areas.
Random thought: "There are 10 kinds of people: those who understand binary and those who don't".
I made friends in LA. A fashionable small bunch, that I miss a fashionable small bit from time to time. Then, after speding time at the beach, on the Santa Monica Pier, or at a Sunday's farmer's market eating cherries and nuts...or after spending time in a hookah bar or at the Romanian restaurant in Hollywood...or simply at Ralph's, they all left, either to Europe or to China. The main disadvantage of traveling yourself... or having friends who travel a lot... is that they all leave when you least expect it, and you have no idea when you'll see them next. But "not all of those who wander are lost".
Anyway. Back to happy thoughts.
In San Diego, I liked the streets, the tad bit we saw at least. I liked sitting in Starbucks before boarding the train to Anaheim - it was the only time this summer when I managed to sit there and read while sipping from my iced mocha.
I loved SeaWorld, and thought of how beautiful it must be to be able to take your kids there and teach them. I haven't heard of one child in Romania who wants to become an oceanographer, but I have met a decent number of people who wanted to do that in the US. Of course, our country doesn't border the Pacific or the Atlantic.
One of those who wanted to be an oceanographer was a young lady that we met inside Stratosphere Hotel, in Vegas. She was selling fancy body & nail care products and was surrounded by a certain aura. She was smart, energetic and seemed very good at doing her job - I can only hope she will be closer to the ocean, directing her enthusiasm towards what she truly wants to do, for she seemed one of the few lucky ones who knew that with a higher degree of certainty.
In Vegas, everything looks impressive at night, when the city wakes up. Go and see the water show in front of Bellagio - you will love it, go inside the Venetian and hop on a gondola, or take pictures of New York like streets inside New York New York. Then go and watch Jubilee, the cabaret, on a Sunday. Don't buy the most expensive tickets as you might get a seat in the front anyway - as long as you are a blonde and smile nicely to the doorman.
During the day, even if Vegas were impressive one could not enjoy it fully, as it is incredibly hot. The sweat dries out instantly, and you feel as if you walk on top of boiling water - if that were possible. Don't step inside the "World's biggest gift shop", as it may turn out to be a huge waste of time. Go on Fremont street and spend your money there instead. Then buy some booze, mix it with orange juice when nobody is watching, and cheer for better times and more well spent money.
From Vegas, the voice of our gondolier is what I remember most. It seemed artificial, together with his overly polite tone - he was yet so kind. I could feel that he was trying hard. The artificiality of the electric gondola and that of his voice matched the one of the entire hotel. All the pieces came together to form an almost perfect imitation of Venice. It was, indeed, beautiful. I celebrated the place and what I reminded me of with an incredibly delicious gelatto, while sitting on a bench in St. Mark's Square, and thought of the good life that I am living.
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