Petition

Jovina gimnazija - skola ili crkva? Petition
I'll have to say "NO COMMENT" for this one, because if I would start stating my opinion on the subject, it would take days and I'm also too stunned by the news to write about it right now.

An insignificant comment

I was just going to tell here another sad story, but then I realised that someone might think that I'm severely depressed. It's not that. I'm just disappointed in anything and everything, and I sometimes fail to disguise it cunningly with a smile.

Sad but true

There are times when things are just plain bad and you get to a point when you think that they can't be any worse. Each such time is sure to prove you wrong.
You won't be even lucky enough to have an opportunity to make things better.
Best you can do is to try to hold your ground and stop things from getting more bad. In the end, you will fail. At least you'll be able to say that you have tried.
Or, you can go with the flow, greeting bad things as old friends forevermore. In the end, it all comes to the same.
Sometimes, you'll think that you can see a glimpse of hope in the distance. It will only prove to be a trick of faith to make you loose your grip so that things go rolling down even faster.
It would be comforting to know that this abyss has an ending. That at some point there won't be more going down.
Who knows if this is true? Who can tell if we'll ever know?

***

People say that if life gives you a lemon you should make a lemonade. What if the lemon was rotten inside?

A day of strange coincidences

In my sleep I was seeing Coca Cola bottles sparkling their contents in hazy clouds around my head. I took one and peered through the window on the label trying to decipher the code printed on the other side of the bottle. The letters were completely out of focus, but I knew that I'll read them, send the code and earn 8 points towards the prize draw. Wow, 8 points per bottle! There were so many bottles around me, that, despite the fact that we reserved a prize some days ago and spent almost all our previously gathered points, we will be able to claim a new prize in no time. How great is that?!
The sound of my mobile phone woke me up, and, as Ivana was handing me the phone, I thought to myself: "I wish one code was 8 points! Just a dream, it's 3 or 4 points really." Sleep still in my eyes, I realised that the number calling me is unfamiliar, I've cleared my throat trying to sound not so just-woken-up at 11:30 and answered the phone.
"Hi, Ivana!" - I'm no Ivana, my brain told me, but I still managed to overcome the confusion and listen on - "Your Coca Cola prize has arrived and you can pick it up today. The address is..." So, I'm not my sister, but she registered for the game and gave my phone number. OK, I get that. But why was I dreaming of Coca Cola bottles? Had I just had a premonition in my sleep?
That was a weird start of a day.

***

Some time in the afternoon, I sat in front of my computer browsing the Internet looking for some nice wallpapers. Actually, Ivana was looking for some nice wallpapers but I managed to slyly grab her place when she went to get herself a cup of coffee. I was looking wallpapers for quite some time when I saw one with white lilies that was extremely beautiful and that reminded me of a friend who loves that flower. I was just wondering whether to mail her that wallpaper when I got a notification on my messenger that she has just came online.
OK, I know that this was a coincidence, but how strange is it to have two such occurrences in one day?

***

Later that day, we watched another episode of Gilmore Girls. I simply love them! They are so clever and so not average-American-like. So not cliche.
A thought came to me: how it is great that Gilmore Girls have been on for 7 seasons now without any cast changes, and how casts of many good series had caused those series to end because of unhealthy appetite for money (here the picture of The Friends cast emerges in my mind: is an outrageous million $ per episode really not enough?).
Being in good spirits I went to google The Gilmore Girls, looked at some fan sites, downloaded yet more wallpapers (this time of Gilmore Girls), and wondered what the Wiki has to say about my favourites. And there is was: On May 3, 2007, The CW announced that the series would not be renewed. According to Variety, "Money was a key factor in the decision, with the parties involved not able to reach a deal on salaries for the main cast members..."
(see the whole text here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilmore_Girls)
Apart from a huge shock that my favourite series is to be no more, I was bewildered by the fact that just few minutes ago I thought about one thing that shortly after I stumbled upon online. I shook my head and glanced at the clock: it was minutes to midnight. With a dash of inexplicable relief I greeted a new day.

***

(this amazing picture is Coincidencies by Dosia McKay, from http://dosiamckay.wordpress.com)

There are days and there are days. Some uneventful, some obscure, some crazy or hectic. But what to say about a day like this? Where have all these coincidences came from? Intuition? A once-in-a-hundred-years star alignment?

I haven't got a clue!

Generation gap

It is the hottest day in the hottest week of one of the hottest summers ever.
People are melting, the electricity and water are being recklessly spent in attempts to cool them. Some are catching their skin cancers on the beaches while some try to escape to the sea where (ironically) the temperatures are even higher.
So I am sweating, feeling good for nothing, lazying from bed to armchair and back again, barely being able to watch TV and check my e-mail. Then I hear form my mom that she has to go over to grandma's tomorrow to help her clean kitchen cupboards since grandma has difficulty kneeling. I think that things like that can certainly wait for cooler days, but (knowing my grandma) if mom does not go tomorrow grandma will do it by herself event if it meant that she does it laying down.
My grandma, she is a 70-year-old on the verge of diabetes, suffering from high blood pressure and nerves, yet she manages to paint by herself her house several times a year (preferably in insane weather like this) and to keep everything in the house meticulously clean. Do I think she's crazy? Definitely! But you simply got to admire her!

Conclusion? Knowing myself it may seem that my gene pool has materialised from nowhere but I am more prone to blame the society: her generation was thought to live through work, mine to drown in idleness.

(cartoon from www.cartoongallery.co.uk)

Golden Sands

Since I have never planned my summer getaway on my own, this was a bit of challenge. I wonder how people manage to plan their vacations year after year if it is as hard and as demanding as it has been for me this time. Ironically, when the time came to start planning, I said "I don't want to interfere, you arrange all and I'll be surely a more-than-happy companion. All I look for in a vacation is a good company (that I already have) and a beautiful beach".
It didn't work out like I planned. As time passed I was more and more engulfed in the frenzy of finding a perfect place (in our price range, off course). I simply had to know every detail and to plan and plan an plan. It was my own fault of character, I'm well aware.Turkey has been our choice for this summer from the start, and luckily for us that we had limited our search to only one tourist agency. Otherwise, I suspect, we would search for our holiday for at least a year!
My only request turned out to be the tricky one. Whichever beach I saw in photos, I was never satisfied. I kept comparing them with our beautiful Strand (a beach on Danube in Novi Sad) and even more with the Golden Sands where I was a month ago. Try to imagine wide stretches of gold coloured sand caressed by playful waves of blue. Sea shells sunken in the sand. Enchanting blues of sea and sky blending in hazy swirls on the horizon, even and unspoilt by anything, endless, unreachable and surreal.
That is the picture I brought with me from Bulgaria and that is why no other beach seemed to measure up. Let's face it, the Golden Sands have "ruined" Turkey beaches for me this year.

Overthinking - my favourite hobby

As I wrote some time ago, we went to Bulgaria. We also came back, and I still have not written a word about our trip. It is not that I didn't want to, but that I didn't want to slip into cliche, say how wonderful it has been, write a report-like text: we were there, we've done that. That is boring. That is for a diary. Well, maybe not even for a diary because it would not be personal enough.
It is not my style to be a wannabe journalist. I don't think that that style is for me. I like to write stories, not news. I want to explore personal feelings, not facts.
So, yes, we were in Bulgaria. It is an interesting country, where we felt at home and did not see the reasons why they are in the EU and we are not, considering that everything functions in similar dysfunctional ways in both countries. We saw and bathe in the Black sea. The coast is beautiful. People very friendly, although somewhat disorganised.
That would be the end of the report. Thank you very much!

Lesson in politeness

People in general don't like waiting.
However, it is an all-Serbian custom to be casual to the extreme with the issue of being on time. This custom, sadly, is not exclusively Serbian, the fact that is used as justification of it. "We are not the worst ones", is often heard followed by examples of how people from some other countries are even worse than people here. Is this the best we can, to be satisfied (and proud!) of not being the worst? Should not this strike us as pathetic? I don't think it will, not ever, not here. Mostly because the masses are not accustomed to stop and think, not about issues like this, not about anything. They will be ferocious when having to wait for someone, even if being liberally late themselves. They will feel self-righteous and victimised, deprived of their precious time that could have been spent on something else - most likely something totally irrelevant, but who dares to deprive us from our right to waste our own time?
So, the general consent is that it is not all right to wait but it is to be late, especially to be the most late of all. That is our philosophy and got forbid that someone does not behave accordingly. These unfortunate souls are, apart from being condemned to eternally wait for others, also marked as fools, naives and are bestowed with no mercy nor compassion. Other nations famous for their punctuality are considered demented and twisted (there must be something seriously wrong with people that get to places on time, start events as scheduled, whose trains are never late). Masses would never think that those nations are simply being polite and considerate. Masses don't ask themselves why such nations are more prosperous. So what if they are prosperous when they are cold, inhospitable and heartless. Lucky us, when we have heart in abundance and instead of canceling a meeting at least half an hour in advance, we cancel it an hour and a half later.
Shamefully small number of people here think about others. Shamefully few has realised that I need to respect and value someone else's time if I want them to respect and value mine. That this problem has to be fixed on individual level and in our individual consciousnesses, so that it can stop to be a global one.
(photo by Tod, http://www.mediatinker.com/blog/index.html)

Varna, here we come!

Tomorrow we are travelling to the choir festival Prof. Georgi Dimitrov in Varna, Bulgaria. I am very excited and can't wait to start the journey. Hope that everything will go well, that we will sing to the best of our abilities, meet new people, see new sites, have warm weather and bathe in the Black sea. With the song in our hearts, off we go to discover new horizons.

Addictive

How long does it take to be separated from the one you love to start missing them?
Sometimes minutes are enough. Sometimes mere seconds.
It creeps up on you slowly. You almost not notice until the fever is already beyond control.
Butterflies whooshing around you in crazy whirls. Nausea. Hypertension. Altered states of consciousness.
It is not a mere passion, rapture, longing. Not a psychosomatic incident. It is a pure physical addiction. The one that has no cure. The one that needs no cure. The one that makes it all worthwhile.
(photo by Kevin Lamb, http://krlphotography.typepad.com/)

Lavender tea

I am laying awake in my bed. I didn't drink my lavender tea you gave me to help me sleep.

I cannot sleep for thinking of you. I close my eyes and fell your lips on mine. I need your kisses so much that I ache without them. With each heartbeat I feel the pulse in my lips. How badly I need them! I need them no matter the season, the heat, the cold. I need them no matter where, a soothing beach, a windy street, a secluded corner of our universe. I long to feel their warmth and gentle touch. To be sheltered in your arms. To kiss you and keep you near, for eternity.

I didn't drink my lavender tea. Even if I did, I know I wouldn't find my sleep.

PHiZZ 270-units buckyball

I am very proud to present the latest model I folded: 270-unit buckyball made of Thomas Hull's PHiZZ units. This is the biggest model I have ever done (not counting 1000 cranes). The story of its creation is actually quite long. I first folded the ball some two years ago. 270 is not a small number and it took me fair amount of time to cut squares of paper, fold them and assemble. I was very optimistic and a bit overconfident. This is THE recipe for disaster, if I may call it so. I made three mistakes:
1. the paper from which the modules were folded was too soft,
2. I wasn't patient enough, so I started to assemble the model before all units were folded,
3. I thought, being a semi-mathematician and relying on my good logical skills, that it will be easy to figure out the proper three-colouring of the ball (the proper colouring means that no two units of the same colours are next to each other).
So I was in the middle of assembling when I realised that I have made a mistake with colouring and that I cannot figure it out as easily as I anticipated. To solve this problem, I sent a question to ever-reliable O-list and after some time got several replies. I even received an email from Mr. Hull himself, which was WOW! He sent me a paper with explanations on how to construct buckyballs and how to three-colour them.
Unfortunately, by the time I received these emails and found time to made missing modules and to continue with assembling the ball irreparably lost its shape because the soft paper was not able to support the weight. I cannot describe how frustrating this was! I was disappointed, dispirited and in the end very angry so that the poor ball ended up in the trash can instead of being proudly presented to a friend of mine as a gift for receiving his master's diploma.
After I had cooled down, not being a quitter, I decided to learn from my mistakes and to start over. This time I used copy/printing paper which is much more rigid. It took me ages to make the ball because I was not in the mood to cut 270 squares. This year I decided to finally finish the project, done what was left of the cutting, folded all modules and the assembled them. this time I was better prepared, ready to be infinitely patient and my effort was rewarded. It took some musing and brain stretching until three-colouring algorithm was clear to me, but then everything went smoothly.

I think that the final result is more than rewarding. The ball looks fantastic and I am so proud to have finished it after all.

Grown up

Growing pains? Perhaps. One day you are a person, the next you are a grownup (a Lawyer, a Mathematician, a Waiter, a Wife).

***

It's time to grow up. It's time to become serious. I'll be a righteous member of the grown-up society. It's easy. No problem at all. Starting today I'll just stop to be who I was yesterday and mould myself into the expectations. I'll forget my old friends. Why would I need them, when now I will have colleagues? We'll stick to two or three conversation topics that we pretend to have interest in, because we were told that we ought to. What a great change! I won't have to think what I'll say. I'll have several widely known phrases to choose from and just drop them when my turn comes to say something. No need to remember all those birth dates because there will be always that one person that makes her business to know such things and to inform us. I won't need to worry about funerals either, things will be taken care of by someone in the name of us all. When I said serious, I meant it. No more laughing, no more witty jokes. No need to overwork your brain, everything is already prescribed anyhow. We'll tell each other worn old jokes everyone already knows, make a grimace simulating mild amusement and that will be enough. It's the safe way. No one will miss our too clever points, or laugh if we end up saying something, well, not so clever after all.I will go out once a week. At the same time. With the same people. At the same posh place (the more posh the better). And look at the same posh people, posers, standing there to be noticed and never to notice. My fashion sense has to be appropriate. My new colleague-friends already have the list of places to shop at. They will be there for me to help me choose the best outfits that will fit in and consequently make me fit in. Is that too much to ask from life, to fit in? And yes, I will find a husband. Must do that soon before all appropriate ones are snatched. "How do you do. Tell me about yourself: income, position, ambition, wealth, real estate, family tree and references." Nothing without references! I plan to be an exemplary wife. To satisfy my husband's need not to be bothered after a hard day at work. Being a career woman too, I'll have to learn to balance my work and my motherly obligations. I've heard that the boarding schools do miracles for a child. The younger it is sent, the better chance in life it will have. Won't it be great to live this grown-up life?

***

Grey glasses for life. Different shades of grey, but nevertheless, same good old safe colour. The choice of masses. How sad, yet how true.

In memoriam

Some pains are too strong to be expressed by words. Some memories too wonderful to ever be forgotten.

To a sorely missed friend.

Dušan Heđeši

04.09.1981 - 20.03.2006

Stella's Winter Dream

On a cloudy March afternoon, little Stella Goldilocks fell asleep in front of her TV in between of two series of ski jumping competition in Lahti.
Everything was strange when she woke up: there was snow everywhere, men and women in tight outfits were whooshing around her on slender skis and the lazy balloons in vibrant colours floated in the air above her head. She new this place because she has been there many times in her dreams. It was the WinterPark land.

Looking around she saw the Hills in the distance and she instantly knew what she must do: she had to get to the Three Hills. She was worried because the Three Hills seemed so far away, and she didn't have any mean of transport. So she hid behind a tree and jumped in front of the first whooshing person that came that way. The poor man was so stunned by her appearing in front of him out of nowhere that he ended up flying head-over-heels and landing in a thick snow few meters from little Stella Goldilocks. Then Stella run to the men in snow, took his slender skies and whooshed her way cross-country to the Three Hills. (Only later she learned about an incident that made the world cup leader loose his title in the last race of the season due to mysterious circumstances.)

***

It was a wonderful though slightly windy day in the WinterPark land. The happy family of three jumping-bears was returning to their humble abode: the Hill. Coming near to their destination, the first and the big German jumping-bear called Martin stopped abruptly and said angrily: "Someone was jumping from my K115 hill!" At these words the second Swiss jumping-bear called Simon looked at the second hill and exclaimed: "Someone was jumping form my K90 hill too!" The third Austrian jumping bear called Andreas, now truly alarmed, looked at the third hill and said: "Look! Someone is jumping from my K64 hill just now!"

The three jumping-bears now looked all at the little Stella Goldilocks as she was landing from the third hill. Their anger subsided as they watched her graciously making the telemark: she was so little, so sweet and had the most adorable gold locks that were floating on the wind. By the time our little Stella stopped in front of them they were all ready to forgive her the intrusion and ask her to stay forever on their Three Hills.

***

The rest of this story stays forever concealed from us, as the so-familiar voice of Mr. Goldstrum woke Stella up from her dream with the start of the second series of ski jumping competition in Lahti.

Me & Mrs. Dalloway

Yesterday I bought the book.

I wanted to read it for a very long time.

It all began with the general knowledge that I ought to read at least something by V. Woolf to stay a worthy literature lover in my own eyes, especially having heard so much about the book and the controversy of its author. I am curious and I love the word controversial.

Then my 'sister' Vesna told me she read the book and that it was really worth reading. At that point I made a mental note: "You must read this book!", discarded the idea of lending it from someone and decided that my little but growing personal library can't do without this book.

This was all before the movie "The Hours". I didn't see it, just heard this-and-that about it, watched the trailer and the US Academy Awards that year. No need to mention curiosity here - it was growing by minute. Then I forgot (almost) all about it. Let's face it, I do have lots of work and other things on my mind. My book-per-year number has been decreasing steadily over past decade to reach shamefully low values.

So recently I thought: "What interesting could I read next?" - "Enough of the 'easy reading' (my dearest fantasy), let's read something serious for a change" (please note the humorous ton of my previous sentence; fantasy is everything but 'easy'). So I naturally remembered my dear, old, unread Mrs.Dalloway.

Believe it or not, the only issue of the book in Serbian is long past sold, but luckily I've found a neat new English bookstore in my town and bought the original. It has always been my policy not to read a translation if I do know the original language (English being the only one for now). It will be difficult, believe me! I've read several pages and knew that I've given myself a great challenge, but the one I'll enjoy very much.

But the best thing of all was not the rapture of finally being able to read this book, it was when I read the name Clarissa in it and linked it to the movie I saw many times before, loved it immensely but never knew its name. I was so excited to have discovered that and now I can't wait to read the book even more.

Doctors make me nervous

Having a doctor's appointment tomorrow, I'm gaining on nervousness each minute.
When I was a child I used to be sick so often that I got used to doctors, hospitals, needles. Seems to me that I have been much braver as a 12-year-old that I am now. I got spoilt and cowardly in the meantime.
It is not so difficult to go to a doctor when you're unwell. Then you have no option. But going to a doctor for a regular check-up - knowing that you ought to go for your own good, yet still don't wanting to go. That is upsetting.
Health has always been a sensitive topic for me. There were times when I was very suspicious when I felt OK. "There must be something wrong with something..." , I used to think. I still sometimes feel like that. Especially when I'm supposed to see a doctor.
So now the butterflies in my stomach are multiplying. Knowing myself, I'll probably be anxious by morning.
Then again, it will be over soon enough and everything will probably be fine again. At least until I look at my pocket book that will remind me that I am still to see my dentist, ophthalmologist and hairdresser (the last one being my biggest nightmare of the lot).

Taking things for granted

If you asked me if I take things for granted, I would have disagreed strongly. Honestly, I don't.
Not many people think about this, but I do. And I always try to appreciate the good things in my life including the life itself. Most of all I appreciate the love I have and the person I share it with. That is something I would NEVER take for granted! Or would I?
Talking on the phone with a friend of mine earlier today, I was taken aback with my reaction. She made an insinuation how happy and relaxed must I be because last night I went to see my boyfriend. I immediately made a sarcastic reply how the only thing that I could have gotten from that visit was loads of viruses (for my boyfriend is sick), and how, after all, I was there for only few minutes. Then she told me: "Yes my dear, but seeing him must have made you so happy!" And, of course, she was right. It did make me extremely happy to be able to spend even that little time with him. So why didn't I think of that instead of making a sad sarcastic comment?
This conversation got me thinking how lucky I am and how many lonely souls are there in the world!
Somehow, this doesn't seem to be a big deal, and someone might say that I'm splitting hairs and have no better things to do (which I do) than to think about trifles. To me it was not something insignificant. I was more a kind of warning so that I don't indulge in thinking that I am above taking things for granted. But moreover, it hurt when I realised how poorly, even though for a brief moment, I appreciated the best thing I have in life, a thing that only rare ones, blessed ones have and must cherish zealously lest to loose it.

Hard work

Why would anyone like to work hard when there are more easier ways? Why, when you know that you will be tired, and no one likes that feeling. We are all in quest of pleasures in life and have been thought that pleasure equals no pain, which equals no hard work and no tiredness. We have become so spoilt! There are times when hard work is what brings the pleasurable fruits. There are also times when hard work is a pleasure in itself. There are times when it is both. And tiredness? Just imagine how good it feels when you feel the sweet tiredness when you are slowly dozing off to oblivion... Oh, how hard work can be worth it!
(this awsome picture is from http://wolfpooka.deviantart.com/)

Depression healer

Mmmmmmmmmm, Plazma biscuits (I sympathise with those of you who are not from Serbia, since you probably didn't have the pleasure of eating these biscuits)!
My favourite combination: cup of hot milk + two teaspoons of Nesquick + one teaspoon of sugar + 4 Plazma biscuits. That is the heavenly combination with serious healing effects: it remedies depression, bad mood, gloominess, heartaches, anxiety, sadness, full moon effects, PMS, boyfriend/girlfriend issues, loneliness and many other conditions. Trust me, it never fails.

Lending books

I love books. Love to read them, love to own them, and love to lend them to others.
Many people don't want to lend their books to others and just keep the books for themselves. That is selfish. I do understand the worries: in what state the book will be returned, will it be returned (at all), when (oh, when!) will it be returned etc. I've lived through it all. Sometimes my books returned to me in poor state, some of them have been read many times and it shows. Twice my books got lost, once in a bus full of my friends, the other time somewhere in the barracks where my friend was serving his "green time" *. Many of my books are failing to find their way home, some even for more than a decade. Luckily, I do keep records to whom I lend my books and I heartily recommend to all of you to do the same.
Anyhow, I don't mind sharing my literary treasures with my friends. The only thing I like to get in return is a "thank you", same as I say whenever I lend a book from someone. So, if you read this, think about sharing your books too. Why would they just stand on your shelves and collect dust when can give times of pleasure to someone.

This babbling about lending books is not just for the fun of it, it has a point, and the point is: my dear Friend, you who will be reading this post of mine, I don't remember you saying the magical words although you lent my book yesterday (though it wasn't given to you by myself). **


* If anyone is puzzled, by "green time" I meant the mandatory military service.
** Although it may seen that the last paragraph was written in pure spitefulness, I am positive that the mentioned Friend will know that I am just teasing him. :)

I'm back

After shamefully long time, I have returned to my never-much-used blog, and it's all my friend Alexa's fault. He made his own blog and reminded me that there is such thing in this world called blog, and that I happen to have one.
Truth be told, I never new what to publish in my blog. I still don't have a clear purpose in my mind. Perhaps some random thoughts... This could be a good way to make myself to return to my old-and-everlasting flame: writing. It's about time, my dear!

So, thanks Alexa for reminding me about my blog!