Day numero 1-Planes, plastics, clouds, smiles and sleep

DAY 1

Actually, it’s more like ground zero towards day 1. We said our good-byes, hit the quite non-impressive, magura cake provided impregnated business lounge (yeah, free juices & beer and foreign newspapers but…), because of my mum’s ticket and then hoped on the iron winged, blue-white bird. We were greeted by an obviously, very tall Dutch lady, wide smile, blue (elementary!) friendly look about her. Her colleague looked Moroccan to me and perhaps a tad too graceful for a guy but nice dude. My mom stopped at the empty business class, which apart from adding a few centimeters between the chairs, was no different from the economy lot. I took the lovely lady’s offer of a cup of tea, buckled my seat belt (well, vice-versa), and then unbuckled it in order to glue my nose to the windows and suck in the mesmerizing cotton-padded sky view. It must be one of the most wonderful sceneries I’ve ever laid eyes on- that white, soft looking blanket, setting us apart from the world beyond..it’s almost like in those dreams of flying in candy-land, swimming thru incredibly sweet and sticky cotton-candy. Food was served quite promptly-mum got Malaysian chicken, a vanilla, raspberry jelly cookie that I ate, hot buns; we all got hot buns which warmed their way down our stomachs very nicely. Dad and I got some sort of cold vegetable mix, my dad wondered: “Are these guys kidding me?” Plus you got your complementary roasted almonds.
Time passed relatively quickly, we reached Amsterdam at night fall and were welcomed by another fascinating view of the amazingly-ordered and neat city lights. Even from way up high, I could only think to compare the degree of civilization and smart-thinking after all of the others!-compared to ours, that is. The only downer was that mum had to walk a fair distance to the little car that was going to take us to our gate. The driver was this red-faced, blue-eyed, tall fellow, again all smiles and handshakes, who thought we wanted to go about shopping-u know: see-buy-fly’in, but it was not the case, so we walked on our own for the last bit. Obviously in the right line because of all the Asian faces around us, we passed by the bald, tough-looking security-man, whom I was picturing in my head as a softie deep-down and am sure to have got the story right. Or at least, that’s what he became after I’ve constructed him in my reality. We waited a little while, amongst rather small, brunette Chinese men, fussing about and blond haired Europeans keeping quiet.
Past yet another corridor and here we are, greeted by a pink and blue army of dark-haired, tight-eyed ladies: the crew of the Southern China Company. We got our mum in first, on the indeed much comfier and larger-spaced slots of the first class. We were all the way to economy, passing thru intermediary, where u still had a little space between your knees and the chair in front. However, where we went it was pretty tight, my brothers. I had the window seat, thankfully, musing on the clouds I was going to see but forgetting about the fact that most of the time it would be dark and Siberian. Dad was in the middle, and next to him was a Chinese dude. We talked a little bit, I got to tell him about my mum and our purpose for visiting his homeland and found out in return that he had studied computer science in Amsterdam and was now returning in order to find some sort of job. Pleasant dude, very polite; airplane food disappointed me big time! I had been so excited about it! I had understood from my brother and dad that it was a pretty satisfying experience but honestly, I was left with a little frown on my brow. Well, the first meal was composed of rice, naturally, some chicken in spicy sauce and a few broccoli heads (veggies, great!), and then a puny noodle salad with mayonnaise I think, an un-heated bun-bummer and a sort of vanilla filled sponge cake. I milked the cart of some coffee, tea and water. Breakfast for instance contained some jam, a bun, butter and a traditional soup, I was told by my fellow couch sharer, very soft rice with shredded pork-not too bad. I gotta admit I squinted awhile at the diminutive TV in front, till I discovered the buttons on my right side handle. Hmm, what to choose?- cowboy dust storm with Viggo Mortensen or some detective crisis with Shea LaBoeuf? I settled for the GPS channel, which counted the hours to arrival and flew that small airplane figure across land and sea. Sooner rather than later, after joining my knights and wildlings for a little while (reading my fantasy novel that is), I got some shut eye, all contorted, hugging myself for lack of many other options. But of course I slept, quite a lot, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t. I woke up only a bit, to a slight chilly hand extended from lady Siberia downstairs, but not too unkind. Dad was sitting with mum because the young man next to her in first class gave up his spot (can u believe it!) to let my dad stay here. Lucky for him, he found another place at the intermediary level, which I told you, was reasonably spacious. Finally, we got off, toilet bags safe in my purse ;) and all tasks finished, let us proceed to looking after our name on some piece of paper in somebody’s hands. Zilch! Outside, we found the car we were looking for, driven by a young man who of course spoke little to almost zero English so we first thought it wasn’t meant for us, though he did say he was waiting for sb from Romania, I mean what were the odds of someone else being there for that particular car. Then a man came with some Xerox copies of a passport, and it wasn’t our name so we shunned him when it actually turned out he was our inviter! Agnes, the orange-coated, good English speaker was our savior. She had the right photos and the card with “Georgescu” on it and she helped translate a lot and I could talk to her, she was very nice, not sure if we’ll get to see her again. (yes, we are apparently, I’ve recently talked to her, Wednesday she’s comin’. Nice girl!). Funniest piece of story: we split up, my mum went with my dad in another car and I was supposed to come along with Agnes and Mr Sun (the man who “invited” us). We went down to the parking lot (me carrying this huge bouquet of welcoming flowers) and as we walked thru the cars I started recording the fact that I could only see really big cars, Audi’s, Mercedes, Toyota’s and so on, all dark coloured and shiny-bling-bling. And I remember thinking to myself: what if it turns out Mr Sun has a really shabby car, wouldn’t that be funny? 2 seconds later I spot a dirty-white petite car amongst the glimmering “mammoths” and I say to myself oh no…I think I was right, could it be? Till the last moment I kept hoping he’d turn towards the black car next to it but nope, right to the VW which looked like a Dacia Break and u know, although not in too bad a shape, was one of those classic, creaking 80’s icons. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t give a rat’s arse for that but the clash of intuitions was amusing, like d'uh! It always happens like that. Thk u Mr Sun though, also a very nice man. (What can I do? They’re genuinely nice people!)
So, here we are at the hospital. Nurse Jennie (?) speaks fairly good English and she’s my main support here. The others greet and thank but no more…doctors know some words but there are things that I just cannot explain! It’s not going too smoothly and I’m pretty concerned but…I’m still waiting. Back to nurse Jennie, she’s nice and friendly too (I don’t think I can use other words to describe people here, they’re all like that! Nice and friendly and smiley), 34 years old it seems, though I would have given her 20 smth. Lots and lots of other little nurses scurrying about, other ladies..we’re in the vip section or smth so there’s not much movement along the corridors, actually I’ve spotted no one else. Beyond, in the main part, where the ordinary rooms are, there are lots of patients, this is a huge place.
Food is kind of a problem. We get to choose from a menu, all sorts of combos with chicken, pork beef, bamboo, mushrooms, soup, rice, noodles, but…we just can’t seem to get used to it. I mean I think I could live off it for a while but my folks cant so we’re going to have to direct our hungry steps toward some Italian or German places. The girl brining in the food is cute as a doll and almost the size of one. I do feel pretty tall around here indeed, ‘cept nurse Jennie overshadows me just like Gracie would. It’s weird, many people are tall, and many are short. Many are very cute or handsome and many are…not quite like that. There’s also a short young man, also from the buffet who’s really funny the way he bows continuously and apologizes, says I, the detached European observer.
Ok…weird, a bunch of nurses just came in giggling, asked: “Do you have dinner?” I replied that they just brought it and they just giggled themselves out again. What gives? Today at one point it happened again. About 20 nurses came in I think, took a look at mom, and went back out in loud voices. The talk sometimes sounds harsh, other times pleasant, probably depends on the mood. I for one, am very irritable, I need to learn some self-control and calming techniques cuz I’m a bitch! Nurse Jennie gave me the number to “Pizza Hat”…The weather’s nicer than expected, sun smiling down upon us as well but I haven’t gone out at all as yet; perhaps tomorrow, in search of prey. The hospital name has started glowing bright red against the clouds, meaning evening is falling upon us. TV’s got many channels, mainly Chinese; I believe there are one or two in English. Wordpress doesn’t seem to work on my computer, nor the betting sites because of the area. The room we’re staying in is neat, modernly furnished and clean, pleasant palette of colours. I sleep on the couch in the big hall, and my dad on the extendable bed they put next to my mum’s. It was basically a wood plank with a very slim cover. Ignoring all health alerts, we asked for extra covers and put them in layers and still my dad feels he’s sleeping on plain hard surfaces. And he’s jet-lagged, I’m not. So far I’ve recorded lots of tall buildings, blocks of flats, people on bikes and funny delivery motorcycles or smth, normal garments. What it does occur to me is that people communicate much easier amongst each other. So far, it never seemed to me that there’s any shyness between them or any withhold from discussion…where’s that fidgety sensation one gets so often?
My dad’s funny, he wanted me to ask the girl in charge of the elevator to bring us some normal cutlery. He’s so obsessed with asking questions all the time and everyone, it doesn’t matter, he just wants answers or actions, anyone he meets he wants to ask. Twice, and then again and then again…Golly and I hate asking!

my DaD

Ca sa nu uit, in anii batranetii which are soon to follow. my dad' absolutely precious reaction to my writing my final thesis for school, haha!
ma ia cu..."ce faci...um...[ma rog, our inside nicknames-nu e cazul sa le divulg]?"
zic "bine, scriu...(de fapt nu prea faceam asta, adik...definitely not)"
-"Ah...scrii la licenta?"
-"Aha"
-"Merge, merge? Despre ce faci tu?"
-"Eugenia nazismului"
-"Ce, ce era asta?"
-"Elementele slabe din societate. E cam nasol ca tre' sa culeg tot felul de chestii de ici-colo..."
-inchizand ochii o data in semn de aprobare, "Pai, sa culegi, tata".
Si iese din camera. That's as far as his curiosity took him; or courtesy.
hahahahaha!!!! god!! how cool is that? si probabil nici n-o sa mai intrebe ceva pana dau examen. sau poate doar asa ca idee CAND am examen dar...nu sunt sigura. My dad was never preoccupied with such things. mama zice ca pe vremuri nici nu stia in ce clasa era frate-miu. eh...i dont' mind! less invasive, the better for my stress I guess, si cum eu nici n-am tanjit dupa o prea mare apreciere a "eforturilor" mele, pt ca in general nu prea le depuneam, it sure didn't bother me. it is a bit weird though, a bit disfunctional...eh...dar cand eram mica am facut ceva teme la mate cu el, ca d'eh, trebuia! he must have hated those, losing the news and all-haha! all's cool...

demoralising ice-nite, further coldness in the mornin

evthin's spinnin, i most likely wont be very coherent but i do wih i were perpetually drunk. evthin just comes so clear and clean. i got terribly depressed but in a proud sorta way. i realise my misery. completely. after 3 saltios i suppose, which i thought had no effect whatsoever, i come home mildly tipsy, to make fun of myself cuz im actually long gone. i'm spinnin around...as the song goes. and vvvv depressed. this actually came quickly. i try to hide in the bathroom and cry my misfortunes but that didn't come easy though i knew it. i can't really make distinctions, and i don't exatly realise my images. i do picture things and consider them mildly cool... can bearly keep my head up, mayb i'm gonna b sick, but im mostly sorry for being evthin i am...yeah, i am sick! man, 3 saltios...i'd better put myself to bed.................no, really cuz...i dont wanna do that....that....i mean that...evthin just kinda sucked. it was short and....wake up call-ing...sucks that i dont have this lucidity 24/7. i can't understand mist of it but it mainly braings me to my low levels...i cant understand why completey failed but i guess im not supposed to...whatever. it'll b gone in the mornin but just as bad as ever. choose life? but when does it choose u?
and i cut my hair, pretty short, from the plannings, guess my mum's upset. and "tembela" conversation this mornin. i feel completely useless. i cant help any horrid situations, i cannot aleviate any lil' bit. and it never stays better, it just runs off to grey thoughts and tears and the worse of expectations. im definitely not among the ones who can easily see beauty in life. most of the time, i just witness its perversity and bit by bit, my desire to continue, falls off my being.

summer time-off

2day I've decided to learn all the world capitals. now, 3 babbling sheets await, with consonants chasing vowels and me hammock-ing thru unknown coordinates. Daily suppliments I have to come up with, so as not to erode the bits of sanity i have left. Here I lay, on cushions of instant coffee, biscotti and lovely peanut butter and jelly, to neutralise the pangs. Clothed in the vapours of a self-imposed delusion, I pass the days as pages are turned. Drowned in waves of unidentified uneasiness, I, the batter, have stopped growing. With my demons tucked away, I stand guard to a fruitless slumber. As pretentious nonsense is delivered, and head-aches served as aces-no counter-blows-I knit the seconds the best way I can.
The water's boiling, lemme go fetch it...