My parents are insane - The Chronicles

Chapter III

As you may have gotten used to it by now, my mother is insane.

Most recently, she found out that I was going to the sea with my friends.

As she is in her mid life crisis, the insane idea of dyeing without doing certain thing is seared into her brain. I tried to keep it a secret, God how I tried, but somehow it just came out and now she want to tag along. I should mention that the people I’m going with are two lovely girls, my age and we are planning to live in a tent for a week and feed ourselves with alcohol, like normal young, stupid people that we are.

Now, that I told her I’d rather not having her along, criticizing my every move she’s gone mental.

 “You didn’t even think about me! I tell you, that’s our punishment for taking you to the beach so many times when you were little. You went ahead and did this to me without even thinking  << she’s really suffering for not being able to see the sea this year>>” and so it went on, and on, and on, and….

Now I’m asking you: what 25 year old, in its right mind would take their mom at the beach, alongside their friends?

Is that a valid question? I’d say so.

She insisted I go to Greece with her in September. She fucking insisted, after I said NO so many times I was left without a breath.

Every time I wanted to go somewhere or do something and I didn’t have someone to do it with she’d say “Go alone.” That’s what I told her about Greece and then she went postal, again.

There’s no real reason to quote all the stupid things she said after I made that grave and regrettable mistake, except that now, she’s telling me that my dad didn’t want to go so I could go.

BULL HOKEY! My dad said he doesn’t want to go because there are too many old folk on that trip and he fucking hates them.

I want to be honest with y’all. My mother never liked me too much. She had no idea how to raise me.

Maybe because of the way things were back then, maybe she just practiced what she learned in her own family.

My mother never wanted to know what I want, what I’m capable of, what I can do with my own to hands. How talented I am or how athletic I used to be. All she wanted was an improved version of herself, disregarding the human being.

I think that now, my mother is seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and she realized that she never really listened to me, she never actually wanted me around and now she’s trying to make up for lost time.

I say TOO BLOODY LATE, MOM! This ship has ….. well, now sailed per se, but at least ripped up the rope that was holding it tied to the dock.

I hate being angry at my mom. I always feel guilty and then more angry.

I might’ve said too much.

Interrupting transmission …..

Mami, mami, vreaaaaau

Deci ziua mea de nastere se aproprie cu pasi repezi. In nu mai putin de 25 de zile voi implini fabuloasa varsta de 25 de ani si in sfarsit faptul ca ma simt batrana este in sfarsit justificat.
Pentru mine e un chin si jumatate mersul la cumparaturi de cadouri asa ca m-am gandit sa-i crut pe cei care vor avea buna intentie de-am lua ceva de ziua mea si sa le ofer o lista de optiuni o data sa-i scutesc pe ei de a se consuma pe tema asta si a doua oara fireste sa ma scutesc pe mine de a spune "cee draguuuut" atunci cand tot ce vreau sa fac e sa pun pe foc cadoul so here it goes.

-Carte "Please kill me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk" gasita pe Karte.ro care arata in felul urmator

-O cana d-aia portabila cu capac pentru cafea 
-Viniluri pentru pick-up

-Postere cu filme, bune, proaste, vechi, noi, numai frumoase sa fie 

-Un fular caramiziu

-O bratara cu atarnici de pus la colectia de pe mana stanga

-Cactus (n-am nicio planta in camera, vreau o planta!)

-Bilete la teatru

-Un pandantiv in forma de cruce celtica cu coada lunga (nu cu toate bratele egale) 

-O chestie super misto de pus la baza gatului (eu sunt prea fitzoasa cand vine vorba de cumparat dar daca mi-o da cineva cadou ma vad obligata sa-o port :)) )

- Un Jaguar Roadster 1956 - marime naturala ar fi ideal dar acept si miniaturi 
-Un hamac (fireste asta poate sa astepte pana la vara, nu ma supar)

-O bicicleta noua (mai mult dorinta de spus la parinti sau la zana maseluta dar nu strica sa ceri)

 -Un polaroid (nu-mi azunge sa va bag blitzu’n ochi de fiecare data cand ne vedem, vreau sa va am si pe hartie:D)

-Lectii de chitara
-Carti carti si iar carti (Hemingway if possible, ma gandesc de mult sa ma iau la tranta cu el dar nu ma tine, asa daca il am in casa o sa ma indemne in fiecare zi "citeeesteeee-maaaaa")  

-Si last but not least: Love, love, love…all you need is love.

De ce? Iti spun eu de ce!

Am avut bucuria si onoarea de-a traduce un articol de cacat (pe romaneste) despre migrarea romanilor spre Bulgaria in sezonul estival.

Autorul se intreba cu ardoare care e motivul in spatele acestei decizii, avand in vedere ca si noi, ca si ei, avem aceeasi cocalari umflati cu steroizi, sa para ca-au fost la sala tot restul anului, aceleasi tate etalate nonsalant pe plaja printre copii si batrani, practic aceeasi mare, plaja, nisip si implicit acelasi soare.

Pe cand Bianca Dragusanu (daca asa o cheama, pt ca alt nume de animal social romanesc n-am la indemana in momentul de fata) alege sa manance midii si stridii pe plaja in mamaia cu 300 de lei, la 5 minute de vama veche, in Varna, Bulgaria, ai onoarea si deosebita placere de-a manca aceleasi mucozitati cu 2 euro. Pe cand o familie cu venituri medii isi permite sa se duca pe minunatul litoral romanesc, doar in septembrie, pentru o saptamana, si sa se inghesuie 3 oameni intr-o camera de 3 metrii patrati cu-o baie cat o cutie de chibrituri pe sub usa careia se scurge elegant spuma de la sampon si inunda covoarele, in Bulgaria, aceeasi familie se duce, cu aceeasi bani, in plin sezon intr-o camera mai mult decat spatioasa, c-o baie cu cabina de dus (nu un cap de dus atarnat de chiuveta), fehon in baie, micutele recipiente de sampon cu care ne-au obisnuit americanii prin toate filmele, usa cu cartela magnetica, trei paturi de marime mai mult decat decenta, birou, masuta de cafea si doua fotolii de piele nu cu fata textila imbibate de basini de pe vremea comunismului(asta din experienta proprie).

Pe cand Bulgarii fac imprumuturi de la Europa sa-si modernizeze tara cu autostrazi si hoteluri cat mai complete, romanii, patroni si manageri de hoteluri isi sparg veniturile pe-o vara intreaga in Ibiza.

Intrebarea proeminenta in articolul pe care l-am tradus era “de ce FUG (si subliniez cat se poate de insistent cuvantul asta) romanii in Bulgaria?”

Raspunsul meu este: Romanii nu fug nicaieri, cu atat mai putin in Bulgaria. Romanii sustin in continuare ca au fost subjugati de regimul pseudo-comunist de pana in ’90, ca n-au avut ocazia sa iasa din tara, sa vada locuri noi, si daca a mai pus mana cineva si pe-o carte ca “Pe Drum” a lui Kerouac, atat i-a fost. Romanii sustin in continuare ca, scapati de sub jugul totalitarist au iesit din Romania ca dintr-o cusca si ca, descoperind acele minunate locuri noi pe care le cautau atat de insetati, au decis ca acolo e mai bine, uitand complet de tara lor. Uitand ca tara asta a fost o oaza de distractie si indestulare (in timpul comunismului) pentru tari ca Germania, Polonia, Olanda si nu numai. Uitand cum defilau italienii in Mamaia, pe la hotel Rex in jeasii lor Carrera si parfumurile lor frantuzesti si cum atunci ca si acum, cine stia sa-i lucreze avea mai mult decat ar fi avut nevoie.

Si ca tot ma aflu la subiectul asta sensibil desenat cu rosu vreau sa-mi exprim o parere pe care o tin de mult in mine: NU, nu e mai bine acum. NU ma incalzeste cu nimic ca imi este Danemarca deschisa cand eu n-am un job si implicit bani sa ma duc acolo. NU ma intereseaza ca pana la primul magazin Levi’s fac jumatate de ora in loc sa-I cumpar din portbagajul unui italian, NU ma intereseaza ca lipitorile democatiei sug pana la ultimul cent din buzunarul meu,NU vreau sa fiu o tara democratica atata timp cat eu si copii mei vor trebui sa plateasca 15 lei sa mearga la patinoar sau 250 de lei pe-un abonament la inot, NU ma intereseaza sa fiu “libera” doar cu titlul atata timp cat parintii unor copii trebuie sa munceasca pe branci ca sa-i poata trimite pe cei mici intr-o tabara in timpul verii. NU vreau inghetata pe bat la fiecare colt si NU vreau Frape’ la bodega cu 20 de lei doar pentru ca e acolo.

VREAU sa mananc o prajitura doar pentru ca pot, fara sa ma gandesc ca daca fac asta, la sfarsitul lunii o sa ling tigaia. VREAU ca atunci cand ma decid sa parasesc casa parintilor, sa-mi permit sa-mi CUMPAR o casa a mea. VREAU sa ma duc la munte cu prietenii si sa stau o saptamana fara sa pun bani de-opate cu 5 luni in urma, VREAU sa ma bucur ca gasesc echipament de hockey canadian la magazin pe lizeanu in timpul verii si VREAU sa-l coste pe tata doar cat un cartus de tigari, VREAU sa-mi petrec vara la strand si VREAU ca arenele BNR sa se faca scrum pentru ca l-au daramat.

Intorcandu-ne la intrebarea arzatoare a autorului de mai sus: Romanii nu FUG, doar vor o calitate mai buna la acelasi pret, Bulcarii pot sa ofere calitatea aia. Daca-ar fugi, s-ar duce-n caraibe, Cuba, Cote d’Azur, Australia sau minunatele plaje Africane perfecte pentru surf de care stiu prea putini.

De cand e rau sa fi antisocial?

De fiecare data cand vedeam pe cineva care nu se integra in multime nu credeam ca-i infimurat sau fitos, mi se parea misterios. Ma gandeam ca e el cu gandurile lui, ca inventeaza ceva sau creeaza urmatoarea mare capodopera literara.

Nu stiu cand dar si eu m-am transformat in persoana aia.

Vreau sa spun ca n-am fost niciodata cel mai sociabil personaj in viata. Urasc oamenii in general si nu-mi place sa-ajung sa-i cunosc. Am un grup de prieteni extrem de veseli cu care nu ma deranjeaza sa ies la bauta, sa urlu sau sa vorbesc despre lucruri deochiade dupa care sa rad cu gura pana la urechi.

Imi place sa beau in moderatie si-mi place cine sunt dupa doua beri si totusi nu-s sociabila.

Ma duc la o petrecere, daca toti cei d-acolo imi sunt cunoscuti, sunt sufletul petrecerii, daca exista cineva necunoscut il integrez numai decat si in doua ore avem stabilita o intalnire pentru a doua zi de-a merge la un film pe care amandoi voiam sa-l vedem de mult sau cine stie ce alta bazaconie dar daca-s mai multi de 2 oameni pe care nu-i cunosc, sunt cel mai nefericit personaj din peisaj. Nu stiu cu cine si ce sa vorbesc, prefer sa-mi beau cele doua beri si sa ma carabanesc.

Si totusi de cand e rau sa fi antisocial? De cand e aiurea sa stai intr-un colt si sa contemplezi la nemurirea sufletului cand altii urla si-si pun alcool in cap?

Poate ma maturizez, ceea ce este trist in adevaratul sens al cuvantului, sau poate pur si simplu prietenii prietenilor mei nu-s pe gustul meu, cert e ca am avut parte de-o petrecere de rahat din perspectiva mea.

I'm Jack's complete lack of excitement regarding people

What happened to the world?

So I haven't write in almost a century. I don't even think that I know how to write a blog post any longer but I do have to express this one thing that's bothering me.
Since I don't work and, therefor, have absolutely nothing better to do with this ocean of spare time that lies in front of me I always look for ways to at least fill my ears since my eyes and hands are usually busy with drawing.
The best way to fill the silence is SIT COM-es. Lame, I know, but more serious shows need a higher lever of attention. But with sit com-es it's easy, you listen to whatever the characters are mumbling about, you give a smile at the cheese jokes and a good hart laugh when one of the main characters gets a major "BUUUUUURN!".
And this is how I burned thru the most popular ones like "Friends", "Two and a half men", "That 70's show","Scrubs" or "How I met your mother" and oldies like "M*A*S*H" and very oldies like "The Honeymooners". Since all the good ones were done with I started watching some of the new ones "2 broke girls" which is decent and let me tell you, Kat Dennings's place is not in either a Brooklyn diner nor a cheep ass TV show or "New Girl" where Zooey Deschanel creeps me out every week (no girl in her right mind is that perky and optimistic).
The sad truth smacked me in the face after I watched some episodes from one sitcom called "Awkward". I was a socially awkward kid, I still am an awkward more or less grown up so the title kind of spoke up to me. I thought it's going to be something like 10 things I hate about you (missing you still Heath) but it's not. It's about a high school girl that like a boy and so he can like her back she's agreeing to sleeping with him, she was fifteen and I can't highlight this enough FIFTEEN AS IN 15.
My parents didn't set boundaries form this point of view, probably because they trusted me that I'll do it when I was good and ready, probably because they felt too awkward to talk to me about this stuff. (tend to go for the second option).
I'm not a prude, I'm not a virgin Marry and most of all I'll never be the kind of mother that forbids her child to do what teenagers need to do.
I had the misfortune of being the first one in my class to grow boobs and my God I remember a time when I was fourteen and a classmate smacked my ass, not in a "joke" sort of way but in a "horny teenager" sort of way. I remember how violated I felt, how embarrassed and maybe a little bit betrayed by nature.
Now, I realize that, that one guy was a jackass and my boyfriend was allowed to hold me close, and kiss me (even though he was a horny teenager to) but I remember blushing only at the thought of that* happening.
Staying on the subject but leaving the TV show aside for a second I want to say that I was shocked last autumn when I saw videos form the first day of high school. The girls were wearing huge heels and low cut tank-tops, short skirts. "It's still summer" they said. "Why should we wear uniforms?" they asked sarcastically.
It's true, the "do what we tell you to do and wear what we tell you to wear" was always rejected by the youth but every generation and every decade had something to rage against, something to fight for by refusing the dress code or making a music that would speak up for what they'd believed in and if the 60's and the 70's were influenced mainly by the flower power (hippie) culture that appeared in America as a result of the Vietnam war escalating and Lyndon B. Johnson recruiting more and more young men for the "fight against communism".
The 80's were all about freedom of expression thru art thru music, the rebels took control and got birth to an epic decade that anyone would be lucky to have spent their teenage years in. Also, the Cold War had finally ended, event celebrated so majestically in the song "Wind of change" by the Scorpions released all the way in 1991.
The 90's were about evolving and even though it has it's roots in the 1910's , the big blast of FEMINISM took place in the 90's and the youth had one more strike for society.
The 2000's were about the growing up. All those punk-heads from back in the 80's cut their hair short and showed the people that they can do something constructive as well. Science, technology, medicine, robotics, every field had some sort of breakthrough while the 2000's kids got hooked up on social media and so, in a blink of an eye the 2010's came along and this is where we, as a society, start stepping back. The kids got locked up behind computer screens, voiced over cartoons and headphones, creating and living inside an artificial world, seeing the green of leafs only in pixels. Smothered by overprotective parents, trying to create their own battle with society the youth raged against the one thing that remained standing - the childhood.
In ten short years we managed to bring the future generation into a new medieval era, where teenagers are proud to be married and parents at the age of 16 and by doing so THEY managed to kill creativity, art and music.
Great work new generation, everything is just...... dandy!!!!