marți, 31 mai 2011

THE DEATH OF A SUPERHERO

Omg indeed!

My brain was quickly searching for salvation, fast methods to vanish from a date!! But no, it was tooooo late! Waaay too late...

OK, soo, Superman was....let's just say ...wasn't  superman AT ALL!

I wanted to punch him, really !How can one use the name of  such a superhero...for...for...a dwarf?!

MY Superman was 1, 60, 50 kilos,  a combination of 3 hairs and the rest of the head... I haven't decided if he was going bald or just burnt his hair last night and his  face was full of... moisty teenager dots. His clothes...welll..puuh-leeze, let's not get there-I remember some ripped off jeans which had nothing to do with a classic shirt and a lot of oil on his face. I could feel his natural oil when he kissed me!!

Yes he did, I don't know how, I was just too stunned, trying to adjust to the feeling of being deceived ...and especially the reality in front of me when he jumped at me and kissed ... my chick,  for Fuck's sake!

Anyway, Superman was waiting for me with white wine and  fancy glasses and... a stupid face which was only moving its lips to ask me shit such as-whatareyourhobbieswhatdoyoudoforlivingwhyareyousingle.My favourite trio. The most disgusting 3 clichees someone can ask you on a first date.
Oh no, there's also: Doyouspitorswallow clichee also but that's just for drunken first dates.

Ok, Superman was 19. Yes, 19. I actually think he was 16, but nevermind.


I excused myself to the ladies and called 911.

911 is my emergency friend."Pleeease, Paul, please, call me, say smth , like you need me, it;s urgent, make me believe you and act accordingly, you're at the hospital, you need some... blood from me, SOMETHING!"

That costed me a dinner out. And icecreams.  And a movie after. And pancakes next morning for Paul. But I it was fuckign worth it!

When Superman wanted to kiss me goodbye I said No!

I'm lying , I actually just turned my back and ran. He kept sms-ing  me and one night I was kind of tipsy and with such a beautiful boy beside me  that i took some guts and  wrote him back "I just got married".

I haven't heard from him since and I hate him for ruining my Superman fantasy.

Now, I don't get it- how can such a surrealist written communication to be just a soap bubble in the air?!?

How much can I project on the others?

When will I learn?

And where the fuck is MY  Superman?!

duminică, 29 mai 2011

Superman (II)

Couple of days later I had that horrible date I told you about-the weirdo nanochemist who turned out to be such yuckie. I came home , got naked-drunk on my own ( cute, eh?) and called Superman. In the middle of the night. Actually it wasn't THAT late, cuz Mr. Prince Chemist Charming NOT sent me home at 9 after he drank all my wine, but nevermiiiind, I called Supie! And woke him up! Yay! The time of revenge has come!

Well , what I did was that I wine-d and whined with Superman about my horrible date in details while he made fun of me *rolling eyes* till morning.

I was pretty tipsy (ahem) so took the next day off and did all the horrible shit I never do- make fries(I never eat fried stuff), drink coke( same) and watched The Young &The Restless on TV and wished I had a boyfriend!!?(I almost never wish that, not even when I date hot men). I knoooow!

Good thing I went to school in the evening all glossy&cutie pie, wearing strawberries shoes&lipgoss. Ain't that sweeet?No!

Right after my class finished,  AUCH! Superman strikes and calls me.WTF! What shall I do?! Answer?!Well, was was another day and more than that I was not drunk anymore so...fine : Hello cutie! I'm out, let's meet!Now!?!Yes, now!Fuck:to my classmates:how do I look?!You're cuuuute...damn!Ok, Superman time has come!

Superman was weird, he wanted to meet me in a restaurant not a bar, a place I never heard about.Restaurant?!

I took the challenge and got there.... I was too shy&reluctant so I made some phonecalls before stepping inside, then when I had no one else to call I pretended I spoke on the phone 'till he called me and the sound fucked up my ear.Hope no one saw that!

Aaaaanyway, I went inside and down on some stairs, the place looked nice actually, pretty sparkling and I my head was spinning with Superman's image, was he tall?was he slim as I like? was he dark?were his eyes blue or blackcurrant?did he had any beautysigns?how about his lips?how many books did he read?did he likeclassical movie directors?did he go to the theatre?why the fuck is he single?it means he's shitty!wait, i'm single too..am I..?!

Oh my god!....

joi, 26 mai 2011

Superman ( I )

I don't know about you but I've always been seduced by superheroes. My wildest fantasy is a supermen orgy.Or not. Anyway.

It was one of those boring office days when you feel your life is passing by and waves hello to you. Hello, then goodbye.

A click of mouse later I had en intresting e-mail :"Hey Catwoman, how good are your driving skills?Batman let me down in the monday mission(some kids wanna break into a bank, the usual) and I would be needing you. I know you've been dying to meet me flesh&bones for centuries anyway, that's your chance"(+phone number).

Ok. I said-damn he's good. He wrote it on e no-reply e-mail adress so the number was all I could use.

I gave it a rest, tried not to get fuzzy about any strike that seems a bit better than mediocre but I saved his number in my phone agenda. Just in case, you know, for those times you;re stuck in the bus, awfull traffic, no book with you, no one who answers your call.

And one night, in the metro train, I wrote him the first sms.He answered back. And so on. For months.

Me&Superman were relaxed, we did't write every day, we weren't talking about common topics, we never asked boring questions. It was always a surreleastic change of sms , about catwoman in Africa or Superman in Thailland. In our messages, we were 2 superheroes, flying in an instant wherever we wanted in the universe and saving the world. I loved this fantasy I could have at any sound of an sms sent or received. I wanted to keep it this way...

Till one night when, at 4 am in my sweetest dreams I got a message from Superman(yes, i wake up very easely and, read sms in my sleep and even answer them), but he never wrote me a message that late and I was pissed(Catwoman needs beauty sleep, right?). He  was drunk and wanted to meet me next day! No shit!

Wrote hgim back to fuck off and date Hannah Montana or smth. He will definitely pay for waking me up. Someday. Then, switched my phone off. I know drunk men, they cannot stop once they have an idea stuck in their beerbrains, d'oh!

Couple of days later...

joi, 19 mai 2011

My ass!

Exista promisiuni in orice. In rasaritul soarelui, in deschisul geamului, in zambetele necunoscutilor. Pana si-n samponul pe care-l folosesti. Multe sunt promisiuni mincinoase. Nu stiu de ce toate lucrurile si gesturile vor sa para mai speciale decat sunt de fapt. Si oamenii care le aduc spre mine, evident.

Va rog, nu mai vreau nicio promisiune. Nu mai vreau fara parabeni, fara lacrimi, cel mai bun vin, cele mai bune paste, cele mai calde brate. Nimic.

Va rog, lasati-ma sa va vad fix asa cum sunteti- stangaci, ciudati, toxici, dubiosi pentru ca eu ma arat exact asa cum sunt:ciudata, stangace, dubioasa, toxica. Mi s-a-ntamplat sa: ma-mbat de la prima intalnire, sa cad in nas prima oara cand am intrat in sala de clasa, sa vars vinul pe colega de camera la primul contact cu ea. Am avut urechile rosii de vopsea de par la primul interviu pentru job, am tras un part prima oara cand am facut sex c-un baiat. O catastrofa. dar stiti ceva, m-am cam saturat sa mimez ca sunt altceva. O dau in bara, da. Insa asta ma face vie si cu siguranta sunt lucruri foarte frumoase "la pachet", daca aveti rabdare. Asta sunt eu-si daca ma vreti bine, daca nu lasati-ma, va rog in pace. Cel putin eu nu promit lucruri mincinoase. Gratuit

Fara parabeni, fara lacrimi, cel mai bun vin, cele mai bune paste, cele mai calde brate, my ass!.

marți, 17 mai 2011

Sirop

Stiu ca trebuia sa scriu despre Superman, stiu ca trebuia s-o fac de-o saptamana dar am ales sa nu-mi mai pese. M-am saturat sa ma simt vinovata pentru orice nimic. Sunt un pachet de multe frustrari mici mici care mi se ingramadesc sub piele si la cea mai mica atingere pocnesc cuiva in fata.
De cele mai multe ori, mie.

Urasc ziua asta pentru urletele surde din multele ore care au umplut-o.

Mi-e dor de lucruri simple. Simple si absolut fara niciun sens sau explicatie sau istorie sau

Acum 2 nopti am vazut un film frumos c-un baiat frumos. Nimic erotic. Un om drag. Ne-am intins amandoi pe canapea dupa masa si ne-am molesit. Ne-am molesit in felul ala absolut dulce si comfortabil. Ne-am si invelit cu patura. Ma topeste intr-un mod inexplicabil gestul asta absolut banal de a ma inveli cu patura cand dorm cu cineva. Ca atunci cand eram mica si era Craciunul si tanti Popa facea toata ziua de miercuri cozonaci multi si umflati pe care-i lasa sa creasca-n ligheane. Pazeam primul cozonac ca pe-o comoara, imi scaparau ochii-n cuptor si cand in sfarsit il scotea, voiam sa opresc timpul in loc. Fix in momentul in care-l rupea in fasii si aburul si mirosul de cozonac fierbinte, framantat in lighean,  imi topea toate circuitele si ma faceau sa-mi dea lacrimile.

Baiatul s-a lipit de mine, si-a pus capul pe picioarele mele si si-a petrecut un brat peste ele, imbrtisandu-le.

Timpul s-a oprit in loc. .Gesturile alea simple si calde, filmul de pe perete si patura de peste noi. Am vrut sa se opreasca timpul in loc.

Macar putin

marți, 3 mai 2011

Blind date( I)

I'm a pathetic girl in need for affection, split up every day between  work and school, her kitchen, her books, her bed and her slippers with no humane capacity of keeping friends and too shy to pick up men in bars and no intention to whatsoever. I said it once and will keep on saying it- I suck and not bragging about it!

Anyway, though I'm trying not to meet men and I keep reducing pssibilities(men are bad, okeey?), sometimes I just can't help them falling on my head(not my bed), or more to say, my... inbox. There's no possibity of online dating that I haven't experienced so far. There's no nerdy freak I haven't  dated by now. Hopefully!

But this one was special. Let's call him S.

How did we meet? It was simply "destiny".

I booked some tickets for Prague and well, let's just say that I've been distracted and made a spelling mistake to my own email adress. I know.

Couple minutes after, this amazingly sexy, manly, kenny, softy, sensual, penetrating voice called me and I felt my knees softening and my blood runing faster through my veins. Prolly some progesteron rush.

My tickets were in his inbox. But! Coincidence or not, he had booked the very same day a ticket to the very same location. Ding! Plus, he had the same name as I did and similar surname to mine. It was too much not to explore this, right?!

So the emails started to flow between us as honey and milk must flow in heaven(I've heard) and he charmed my ego with sweet bullshit such "What we're living now, it's called The Butterfly Effect". I know, I'm a softy!
Being a sucker for weirdos, the movie itself and fighting with my high level of  progesteron I dated the guy.

I have a thing for not showing pictures previous the date ( I just think it's bad taste) and manage our way in googling ourselves to find out at least we're not dating some creatures of hell or the sort. So I googled him, he seemed ok.

The date day!
Finally glowing upon me! After wasting couple of  hours trying to show up as if I naturally look cute&cute&not too sexy, I went out. I tried to be 7 mins late-not 3, but not 10 either, to make sure I let him know I will be late(to build up some trust there, you know?).
I admit I called  a friend to sing me a weird song in the ear so I won't run away in front of the date bar door.

Stepping in..Oh god, I feel so embaressed-why am I doing this and where the hell is that twat?!

Fuck, no! Yeah hi, yeah it's me..ummm... sorry, I have to run to the toilet.Brb

Two phone touchscreen buttons after: -  Omg,  please save me! He's wearing pink! Who the hell wears pink on the first date??!Ok, ok, I'll be nice,yesss, i'm just nervous!

What can I say, I was to embaressed to leave after the first 5 mins.One reason or another, he  just couldn't look at me. I did try to get drunk and see "things" cuter than they were, I tried to see HIM cuter and less boring, I tried to get him drunk too, so he could let go his natural stiffness, to stop talking for 2 minutes about himself(freakin' self-centred pinky !) and to actually look at me(did I spent 2 hours to put on make-up in vain?!).

The guy was a postdoctorand in nanochemistry(whatever that means)-which I knew and found very hot on e-mails(how awfully wrong!), aiming for a Nobel (hahahahah) and constantly talking about membrane and air particles and nanomolecules, making sure that while doing so he's sipping my wine and smoking my cigarettes.

That night, he bought a drink, I bought 3 and a pack of ciggies. I had a drink and 2 ciggarettes, he had my other two drinks also that were on the table(without asking) and 18 ciggies(tasking for each of one). That, in 1, 5 hours, the time that took me to get enough courage to raise on my feet and tell him in the face he was a fucktard jerk, turned around and left, came back, took my coat, enjoyed his amazed monkey grimase, turned around again and left home.
And we happily split ever after. Need I say more?Butterfly effect my ass!

 On my way I stopped by a kiosk and bought a bottle of white wine that no one was gonna drink from besides me, got home, admired myself in the mirror(don't go there!) put on a vintage movie and half bottle of wine later I made courage and for the first time, I called Superman.

But that's another story....