Da v am spus ce frumos ii la mine acasa?
Mittwoch, 19. Dezember 2007
Da v am spus ce frumos ii la mine acasa?
Donnerstag, 13. Dezember 2007
Montag, 10. Dezember 2007
Dienstag, 4. Dezember 2007
Dienstag, 20. November 2007
Montag, 19. November 2007
Dienstag, 13. November 2007
Montag, 12. November 2007
Samstag, 27. Oktober 2007
Donnerstag, 25. Oktober 2007
M-a ajutat mult (macar stiu ca de o sa imi crape hard discu, dupa cum ma cam anunta de o bucata de vreme, o sa am de unde sa imi iau pozele). Imi pare rau ca l am cam tradat in ultima vreme. Sper sa nu ma las de tot in acest ultim teribil an de Legiune Straina.
Montag, 22. Oktober 2007
Donnerstag, 4. Oktober 2007
Mittwoch, 3. Oktober 2007
Montag, 24. September 2007
Lasa, ca Miercuri joaca Xamaxu cu Lucerna, si pe aia musai ii batem (sorry Explorish :P).
Dienstag, 18. September 2007
In tren. Da, pentru prima data de cand merg cu trenu' prin Elvetia (si Slava Domnului, am GA, da? Deci mama, tata si pisica mea e SBB/CFF. Ma gandeam chiar sa le platesc 50% din chirie lor, ca in gara si in tren stau mai mult decat la mine acasa), s a stricat trenu. Ce a fost amuzant in toata faza asta e ca, doar cu doua zile inainte am vazut un filmulet publicitar pentru CFF in care joaca sora cuiva foarte drag mie, si in care datorita unui "strom störung" trenu ramanea in camp undeva intre Olten si Aarau. Faza la care noi am ras precum Harap Alb (yeah, like that would EVER happen in Switzerland, nestiind ca dä Sou va fi decedat in cotetz, pardon Solothurn, fix ieri noapte.
Dupa ce ne am hlizit la tort (da, plimbam un tort prin Elvetia) si cautand camere ascunse, gandindu-ne ca poate oamenii trag varianta de noapte la reclama ce tocmai o vazusem, ne a cam pierit zambetul pentru ca nu venea nici unul din autobuzele promise sa ne duca pana in urmatoarea gara (Grenchen), unde ne astepta trenul spre Neuchatel. In fine, ajunge primul autobuz, si am o senzatie de deja vu- exceptand marime, situatia era similara cu cea din acceleratul Bucuresti Iasi dinainte de craciun. Oameni cu caini, cu biciclete, cu covoare (sic, da covoare), claie peste gramada si refuzand sa coboare desi usile nu se inchideau. Noi ranjeam de acuma verde, pentru ca ploua si era frig, si Solothurn nu era chiar pe lista de "orase romantice de vizitat noaptea". Am schimbat culoarea la pamantiu inchis cand omul de la dispecer i a inchis in nas omului de la CFF care intreba "si deci cand vine al doilea autobuz?"
Evident insa, nu s a intamplat nici o drama, si am urcat in al doilea autobuz facandu ne loc cu tava si respectiv proptindu -ma zdravan cu o buca intr un ghidon de bicicleta. N avea rost sa fac eforturi sa imi tin echilibrul pentru ca eram bine inconjurata de valize din toate partile. Si pe undeva prin Bettlach (care e imediat dupa Selzlach, nu va chinuiti sa le cautati, nu cred ca is pe harta :D) ne-am mi-am cantat la multi ani. Partea buna e ca SBB ul ne a platit taxiul de la gara pana acasa (de vreo doua ori mai mult decat facea, dar ma rog, problema lor).
Montag, 17. September 2007
Donnerstag, 13. September 2007
Freitag, 31. August 2007
Donnerstag, 30. August 2007
And then I left. I think I never used your e-mail address. You called me at wicked hours, on the other continent. Told me you skipped highschool and went on to become a secretary. That you were still doing your crazy things, I remember just the "I slept around with a bunch of people. I don't know them".
Sonntag, 26. August 2007
Freitag, 17. August 2007
Mittwoch, 15. August 2007
Dienstag, 7. August 2007
Samstag, 28. Juli 2007
Donnerstag, 19. Juli 2007
So why is that that women are crabby every once in a while?
Maybe this can explain a bit.
We started to 'bud' in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find that anything that came in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.
Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies, had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had.
Our next little rite of passage (premarital or not) was having sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and didn't end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.
Then it' was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we didn't spend the entire day leaning over Brother John. Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary's Baby.
Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a watermelon whole and we pee'd our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER.
Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says, 'Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar. Calm down and push. Just one more good push (more like 10),' warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the %*#!* (and hubby) square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10lb bowling ball through a keyhole.
After that, it was time to raise those angels only to find that when all that 'cute' wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.
Then come their 'Teen Years.' Need I say more?
When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40's - while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.
So we progress into the grand finale: 'The Menopause,' the Grandmother of all womanhood. It's either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned 'buds' or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.
Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks...
So, while I love being a woman, 'Womanhood' would make the Great Gandhi a tad crabby. Women are the 'weaker sex'? Yeah right. Bite me.
Dienstag, 17. Juli 2007
Montag, 16. Juli 2007
Sonntag, 1. Juli 2007
Montag, 25. Juni 2007
Sonntag, 24. Juni 2007
Samstag, 23. Juni 2007
Montag, 18. Juni 2007
Refugiu era full (153 de locuri are) si ne o costat cu cina si mic dejun pe la 35 de euro. Care io zic ca ii un rip off, pentru ca am dormit cu aburi la gura (cred ca si ningea la un moment dat), si mancarea era najpa. Da ma rog, era si varianta hors-sac, adik in sac, da afara, pe prispa. Moka. Ma rog, 3 euro dak voiai sa mananci inauntru mancare din propria-ti punga.
A shy sun was peaking through the Neuchatel clouds on that Sunday morning. Morning for the less lazy of us, because I personally crawled to the bus stop, questioning my love for the mountains as I was swallowing my last drops of bitter coffee and trying to open my eyes. After an efficient meeting at the Island of Boudry (everybody was in their driver’s car in less then 15 minutes, with sandwiches, chocolate and water packed), we headed direction Martigny via Lausanne.
Two hours and some evil jokes later we arrived in Tour, the small village guarded by it s flowing Glacier. The sun was now bright, drying the last drop of rain/dew that still lingered on the myriad of mountain flowers that filled the valley. While equipping for going up, we also got a grip of the concept “Surtout pas de baskets”. This may sometimes mean “But sandals with socks are acceptable”.
We walked through the meadow and followed a narrow path through the forest, almost like a winding staircase. Mousse to the left and shining green, the first shy torrents flowing from the glacier to our right, bending our heads under the branches that shadowed the path, we walked in an Indian file until the first “crux” (yes, you may laugh, but as a hiker, I always liked this word, when my climbing friends talk about the key step) – the passage was now a bit steeper with a bit of 2a (?) climbing involved.
Nobody needed the rope that our guide was carrying, and after hoisting ourselves on the granite path, we arrived in the sun, getting ready to turn right, towards the side of the glacier. After a short chocolate break, watching the torents from above, we continued going up on a “morene” trail, where the glacier on our right was getting larger and larger.
A longer lunch in the shadow next to the blue seracs was well deserved, since the climb to there took us a lot less then we expected. Pulling the polaires out we continued going up, with our eyes focused towards the refuge that was now visible on top of the icy mountain.
he last 200 m were a bit more extreme, walking on a steep snow covered hill. But as the refuge was full and at least 50 people have walked the trail before us, even our well equipped guide managed to get up without getting his feet, ahem, socks wet. 1300 m in height and a bit more in length (but not a lot, there are no flat regions, it’s always “up” at various angles) – and we did it all in 4 hours.
We drank beer and laughed satisfied, waiting until
, when our winter cabin opened (yes, we were very efficient, and arrived at the refuge around
), we shared a nice moment and got to know a bit eachother. All ages, all backgrounds and all happy to have done such a nice walk.
The ones still full of energy (well, everybody except me) went for an afternoon walk on the glacier and adopted some rock (aka the pile of stones of the Neuchatelois). The author joined later, for the first round of dinner. Probably the best potato soup ever.
After we admired the sunset over the (fill in the names of the mountains) and enjoyed the winter-like smell, we invaded the “hors-sac” living room for a game of cards and an evening tea/coffee/beer/some weird alcohol/chocolate and then gratefully hit the sleeping bags in a frozen sardine fashion.
In the morning I was again struck by the efficiency of the group who rounded up for breakfast in less then 15 minutes. Once the hot chocolate and pruneaux d’Agean to keep us fit were consumed, we went for a walk on the glacier, under the morning sun. Watching some more brave then us climbing the Table, two other teams getting up on Chardonay, we thanked ourselves to get the feeling of walking on 50 meters of ice and admiring two members of our teams playing the penguins when going down hill.
We left the refuge around
, heading for la Tete de Balme, a 2300 peak , across the border, in
. After a quite painful descent on a steep slope, covered with quite hard snow, we managed to regroup and start walking on the narrow path under the rocks. The void on our left and majestic stones on our right, we stopped from time to time to admire the Montblanc which shyly hid it s face under a fluffy white cloud, we identified peaks and flowers and even got a glimpse at a marmote sumo match. A nice and long “Sunday walk”, as one of the people defined it led us to the swiss border. From there to our target we climbed another km and found ourselves at…L’Arolete (Tete de Balme was lower so we weren’t too displeased by our mistake). We enjoyed a long picnic and a short siesta, with Les Drus and Le Montblanc reflecting in our eyes.
We continued then to go down, passing by la Tete de Balme, as to be able to check it also on our list.
The descent was quite harsh for the knees, so some of us decided to continue in telecabine, and 30 minutes later we regrouped in the Tour parking lot.
After a traditional last drink in F., we headed under a shy rain towards foggy Neuchatel.
Fr me it was probably one of the best hikes, fun and yet with some difficult parts, as to keep the excitement at a decent level. The way the blue seracs shine under the sun, the mix of polar feelings and European summer, the open spaces that make one feel “king of the castle” incredibly small and humble in the same time charged my batteries for a while.
I guess heartily thanks are in order for our organizers – JSC and MyL, and from my part to all the group that added the nice and fun human touch to this hike.
Mittwoch, 13. Juni 2007
And you breathe it all in, and write more letters and stories then in the whole previous year, and you find your charcoal and paint brushes, braid your hair, heck you even FEEL the NEED to wear high heels once in a while. Plan weekends and run away from work in the middle of the day, cross the mountains just to see yourself reflected in your love's eyes, because that's the only mirror in which you look beautiful.
Mittwoch, 6. Juni 2007
Dienstag, 5. Juni 2007
Mittwoch, 30. Mai 2007
Donnerstag, 24. Mai 2007
Si ma simt mai saraca, mai...rece, mai goala pe dinauntru. Oare asa o sa fie cu toti oamenii importanti din viata mea? O sa astept metastazele sa le invadeze trupurile (sau poate pe al meu inainte)? O sa astept sa dea un camion peste ei in curbe la Bucium ca sa ma duc sa spun "te iubesc" unei cruci din fundul cimitirului?
Dienstag, 22. Mai 2007
Donnerstag, 17. Mai 2007
And now, back to the dungeons in the castle/lake/fondue country. A different kind of fun. Must chase the snakes and rats in the appartment, or whatever bred there while I was gone, get back my plants (that are hopefully still alive ;) ) and fix meetings mit people.
Dienstag, 15. Mai 2007
Donnerstag, 10. Mai 2007
Mittwoch, 9. Mai 2007
Are 26 de ani. Si io. Si alalat. Noi trei am fost legati printr un fir ciudat la un moment dat. Eram copiii care voiau sa fie geniali. Ei doi au ajuns, pe cai foarte foarte diferite.