...Richard Gere avas just siis ukse kui Ugly Single Mom oli ziletiga tihedate s��rekarvade vahele sileda valge voolujoonelise tee t�mmanud.
Gere viskas kraanikaussi paki violetse lindiga kokku seotud dollareid ja �ritas mitte naise poole vaadata.
"See on eilse eest. M�letad...kurk ja kummikindad."
Ugly Single Mom t�stis t�lpinud pilgu ja t�rtsakas karvu kukkus zileti k�ljest m�rjale vannitoap�randale.
"SuperRimis." �tles Gere kannatamatult, "Ma j�in sulle v�lgu." Ta pilk langes, n��d juba suhteliselt puhtale, jalale ja ta v�distas �lgu.
"Jah," �tles USM ja liigutas keelega suitsu teise suunurka "Miks sa lindiga vaeva n�gid. Ega ma Julia Roberts ei ole."
Gere ohkas ja lahkus vannitoast.
Ta sammus magamistuppa ja naeratas seinal viltu vajunud peeglile sarmikalt. Ta haises mingi imala firmal�hna j�rele.
Taskus olevate v�tmetega m�ngides l�ks ta akna juurde ja poetas rasket punast sametkardinat. Lendu t�usis parv koiliblikaid.
Samal ajal tuli vannitoast v�lja USM ja t�mbas alusp�ksid perse vahelt v�lja. Tuli v�lja, et need ei olnudki stringid.
"Kas me l�heme t�na v�lja?" k�sis ta kappi avades. Peeglile ta ei naeratanud. Peegel solvus.
"Jah," vastas Gere demonstreerides oma suurep�rast vestlemisoskust ja k�hatas seej�rel kiiresti ja n�rviliselt, sest �ks ta kuldsetest hambaplommidest oli pisut lahtine ja kippus teda ebasobivatel momentidel ehmatama ja kurku minema. Kuradi plomm ei v�inud ka kunagi sobivat momenti oodata.
"Tore," �tles USM ja demonstreeris autori oivalist kahek�ne kirjutamise oskust.
"Jah," �tles Gere uuesti ja k�ik pidid n�ustuma, et targem on pisut oodata enne kui see jutt j�tkuda v�iks...
I just remembered how I was in Spain in an amusement park. It was really big and actually it was really cool, but I've never been a fan of those places. All the clowns and stuff...not my cup of tea.
And I remembered how I sat there...on a bench..and all around me were different attractions...flying cars and ...god knows what. And I sat there and looked tired. And all the workers, who happened to be rather young spanish guys, were looking at me. It was so syrreal.
The sun was setting and it was a warm night. All around children were screaming and shouting and music was playing and I felt like I'm an alien on earth.
And then suddenly...this big goose came from nowhere. I have to see if I have some pics of it on my laptop, because I took a few.
The goose didnt make things better. It felt more and more syrreal. The big bird kinda wandered around...in front of me and I didn't know what to do.
Anyway, I'm all out of thoughts right now. I could write more about it, but I'm so tired.
Played barbies with my little sis today. And then I read her a book about egiptians and pyramids. I had to explain her words like civilization and archeology. She's only 6.
I hope I didnt mess up though. Civilization is that white stuff that comes out of plush toys, right?
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Pretty Woman vs Ugly Single Mom
Saturday, 29 March 2008
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Forty Shades Of Blue
Tuesday, 25 March 2008
�I�ve seen forty shades of blue
I�ve seen forty days go by
I�ve been waiting here for you
I�ve been trying not to cry
Now I�m the rain that�s falling down, down
Falling forty shades of gray
And I wonder where I�m bound
Where I am, I cannot stay.�
And I know that you can never make somebody love you. It is impossible. You can never give somebody a heart that they could use for loving you. You can not give feelings as presents for christmas and valentine's and easter. You can not wrap emotions in a box and slide under their blanket when they are sleeping. You can not insert understanding into people with little kisses on the nose. You can not do that.
And now I am the rain that's falling down, down...
I am...
I watched a good movie tonight. "Forty Shades Of Blue". Here's the trailer. Listen to the song at the end.
It's beautiful.
http://www.fortyshadesmovie.com/trailer/qt_small.html (smaller)
http://www.fortyshadesmovie.com/trailer/qt_large.html (bigger)| 0 comments | |
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Joe Le Taxi
Sunday, 23 March 2008
My back hurts. Can't really sit or lay down properly.
It's because of the german homework I did. Typed 5 pages of total mumbo-jumbo.
My nails aren't thanking my german teacher.
They are blue by the way. This fierce electric blue. Tried a new nailcolour WW gave me.
It's cool.
Doesn't match with anything, but it's cool.
Eventhough I look dead, I have so much energy inside of me when I get to do something neat. Like drinking vodka. I can drink more than a bottle and feel as if I had been drinking water instead.
Maybe I am getting immune. I don't know. Maybe I should switch to some other alcoholic drink. Or maybe I should just switch off the lights and go to sleep.
Im tired of drinking and dancing. I don't drive yet so ...
The last time I drove with a taxi was weird.
I got the same driver I had like...2 weeks ago when I was visiting a friend. And then I had called a taxi from her place. And as it's my friends new apartment, she didnt know the address so well and instead of....let's say...New-Sun street...she said just Sun-street.
It wasnt like a major mistake because those streets are close to eachother. And she understood right away what had happened when the taxi didnt come. Anyway, I called them and apologized and they were very friendly and it was all nice. The taxi was infront of the building in like 3 minutes.
So I sat in...and it was a nice big car...and a not so nice big man. First he whined about the way I said my home address. He was russian and his estonian was really shit. Like really. But it didnt stop him. He practically shouted the whole time. I almost wished I was deaf. Actually I was, after stepping out.
He kept asking how to drive there, which streets to pick and so on. I said what direction I preferred and added that it's actually not a big difference.
Oh gawwwd...he didn't stop mumbling after that: "Everyone has to know how and where they want to go and ...you live there...you know better. Blablablabla"
I sat behind him, on the back seat, and I kept showing him my middle finger in the sweet thick darkness.
Then before we reached my home, he moved his massive body and looked back at me: "Tell me," he said with his annoying shitty accent and a super weird word-order, "Whyyyy...YOU told me the wrong address at the first place? Ah..? AH?"
I was like...okay...finally he got it out..here we go.
Actually I just sat there and said nothing. Usually I'm quite talkative. I'm not afraid of strangers and I like to chat. But this time I was completely silent and he handled the so called conversation pretty well. It consisted of making fun of me and making sure I understand how smart he is.
Ufff...
I was so freakin' happy when I got out and practically run inside the house and into the elevator. My middle finger was red because I had pushed it into his seat, against his big cocky back so many times.
Now...2 weeks later, I was going out with my cute blonde friend, and yehhuu....I sat into the car and it was the same fucking guy.
I wonder why he wanted to come to my place again...I live far from the city and obviously he thought I was stupid.
The first thing he said to me was: You were late.
I said: I called the taxi at 00:33, they said it will take 10 minutes. Now it is 00:45
My sweet friend added: Yeah, it's only 2 minutes.
The driver was probably gobsmacked. He didn't know what to say. He mumbled something and said something in the lines of: ehhheeee..ehe..eee
I broke his amazing verbal outbursts and said: Dont you listen to any music?
as it was completely silent in the car.
He said, in completely changed voice: Yes yes...of course. What would you like to listen to?
I said energyfm of course and he put it on.
Then he asked if we would like to listen to a cd he had. Me and my friend both said "NO" at the same time. We happen to love house. <3
But the driver made me interested because he said I wont probably know the band anyway.
I was like, okay bring it on (sucker).
He put it on and ....it was my second love after house ...METAL!
And like...really good metal. And I really didn't know the band.
Me and my friend said "Tanel Pader" to everything the driver asked. XD Because we were drunk and we wanted to annoy him. Plus he seemed to hate Padar and we didn't remember any other estonian singers.
I asked what was the name of the band and the driver said: Cosmics!
Like...I said Metsat�ll before...and he said that Im not even close. Like pffftttt...Metsat�ll and Cosmics had a tour together.
I really liked the music...but I didn't like the singing part much. I just dont feel that estonian sounds good with metal....or with any other genre.
Anyway, I'm gonna download some of their music now. And I also promised the taxidriver that I will make an interview with the band for my magazine. We'll see, I wont back out.
I should take a shower now.
I took too many showers in a day, my hair is falling out. But well...off I go.
Joe Le Taxi -Vanessa Paradis| 0 comments | |
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Sincere & Sly
Saturday, 22 March 2008
My calendar tells me it's october 2007.
I liked october 2007 once. It changed my life, that month.
I don't like it so much anymore. I hate it changed my life.
It was warm, that october.
It was raining on that day. All day. I should have understood it better. I should have noticed it better. I should have run.
I did.
But in the wrong direction.
Vihma k�est r��sta alla. Literally. The house was big. And it was gray. And it was warm inside. Perfect cover from the rain.
I don't like that house anymore.
We had a lot of fun in the morning. Semu was with us. Semu has always been there.
When I die then he can tell what killed me. I'm sure.
Better than Hercule Poirot.
It was all so carefree and easy. I enjoyed my life like all the young people. And it wasn't supposed to mean anything.
The next day it was supposed to be something you remember through a haze of vodka. And soon it would be all gone.
But it wasn't.
And now it will be.
Now, 6 months later.
And I am tired. I really am. I want to sleep. For a long time. For a lifetime.
I really am.
And people can think what they want. But it's never gonna leave.
It depends on what kind of a person you are. What kind of thoughts you have inside of you. What whirls across your mind. And how big is the percentage of people with depression in your family.
It also depends on ...your heart. And the way you have grown up. And it depends on your childhood memories. And if you like to read poems. And if you understand jokes. It depends on how intelligent you are...or on the other hand....how stupid you can be.
And nobody understands you. For real. Nobody in the world can actually understand you. Not the person who holds your hair when you throw up...or the one who lives in the room next to yours. Nor the one who cuts your steak when you are five. Or the one who pays for your coffin when you are a lot older than five (hopefully).
Sometimes I look into the other persons eyes and think: how different we all are...how very different. And you did not understand what I said. Not because I speak with my mouth full. But because you are living inside your own little bubble. And you can't get into mine, because I dont want you to. And you probably dont want it either.
I can smile and listen to your lives. But I have nothing to do with them. Nothing.
And you have nothing to do with mine. You just smile and listen.
The things I eat, they are inside my bubble. Me and my bottle of ice tea for example. Im consuming it, its mine. It understands me. I understand it too. We are equal. And we share something.
So you see, ice tea understands the way I think, a lot better then you ever will.
If there was a book on how to live. I would buy all the copies and send to everybody I know. But I myself wouldn't read it. You all can do it the right way, I want to do it my way. I want to do it my way and at the same time know that everybody else does it the right way and I will never get hurt. How egocentric. But maybe everyone would go to paradise after that, except me. I'm willing to risk it. At least for some time. So maybe I'm not so egocentric.
No, let me tell you. I am not egocentric at all. Only sometimes, but I always know when I am. I always know. And I regret. So I'm not egocentric in a normal sence.
My granny told me the other day that she had read or seen (I dont recall) how little kids were asked stuff and one kid said: When good people die, they go to Paris.
:) I liked it. I've been to Paris. Unfortunately I was alive.
No, don't get it wrong. The city is beautiful, the people are beautiful. I liked the atmosphere. I liked the streets and the bridges and the Eiffel Tower and Champs Elysee and the little shops and the gray weather.
But the feelings inside of me at that time were terrible. Please erase october.
And you can travel as much as you want. And you can meet whoever you want. And you can do all those things together. But you will never get that feeling that I had in Paris, that experience. That freedom mixed with ...god knows what. Never.
And maybe you're not supposed to get it. Maybe it was ment only for me.
Because we are all alone in the world.
Inside our bubbles.
Close the windows in my room, it gets so cold at night.
Hold me, like a child.
I will think of a better way how to live my life. It's time to change some things.
Because I am very tired. And I dont really care.
And my smile is a wall between me and you. Isn't it?
No?
It's only what you feel. It always that. It doesnt matter what I say. It's only what you think. So think good things. Think optimistic.
See, Im smiling too.
And it's ment for you, my love.
You know I love you.
Yes, you.
And you too.
And you and you
...and you too.
;)
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Went out last night. Again. I should really hold back with the vodka.
The morning after always makes me think...how absurd life is.
Junior Boys "In The Morning"
Too young (x4)
Too young, Oh (x4)
Girl the night's not over
(Oh, too young)
We're not getting older
They can chase forever
'Cause in the morning
there's a million names
to choose from
You don't care just take one
Leave a place to rest on
Because you're too young
Yeah you're too young
Oh you're too young
You're too young
Too young,
Oh (x4)
Too young,
Uh (x4)
There goes another million,
Just wrap it up we own it
This night's a skill we hone it
And in the morning would you tell me that it's over?
You think that you'd do better
To stick with someone older
Because we're too young
Oh, too young (x4)
Too young
Yeah, we're too young in the morning.
We're too young
We're too young in the morning. (Repeat)
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Un pamplemousse!
Wednesday, 19 March 2008
So okay, Im trying to play the piano.
I got a bit down when I couldn't play it like super well. My fingers need some re-positioning and stuff. I was sad and then WW mentioned that usually people learn how to play for decades.
Ehhe...*blushes*...well maybe I got a bit carried away.
Yesterday I went to see a really really good friend of mine. My buddy! (http://omglawlzz.blogspot.com )
The thing is that....while I live in the southern part of Tallinn, she is up in the far end of the northern part. If you'd think logically then it should take shitloads of time to visit her...but nothing in this world is logical and actually it took only about 1,5 h or so.
On my way there I listened to:
We Are Your Friends - Justice Vs Simian
And I read an article about Moby. It was more like an interview when I come to think about it. Well, he said some pretty neat stuff and I read that he blogs a lot too and how the things he writes seem so damn good at 5 am in the morning after a night of severe partying...and how it all seems a piece of crap the next day. He mentioned he writes a lot about politics and has even got hatemail.
That made me think how much I love to get mail. Like real mail...from an actual post office!
Maybe I should start writing about politics (time for you to ROFLMAO) and get some hatemail!
It was cool at my friends place. Its always cool with her. With her I have been for a long time & it just feel so comfortable. I don't have to do anything. She's one of those people who I don't have to keep up the conversation because she handles it well. She tells me new stuff and talks about things she has heard or what interests her and I love it. We have the same interests and she has already became a part of my family.
No to mention the jokes. Oh my god, my school diary is full of jokes we hear or we either come up during long and boring schooldays (which are not boring at all when she's there). We don't have these old boring streches-like-warm-cheese kind of jokes.We get new almost everyday. Plus the old ones are pure classics.
The FUNNIEST thing is that nobody else gets them!
I once tried to tell a friend of mine one of the jokes we had had earlier that day with( http://omglawlzz.blogspot.com/ ) and she just looked at me and blinked a couple of times.
Well, that didnt go well.
I don't really how to handle akward situations but at least I try. I wont let them be & sit in an uncomfortable silence like an idiot. I usually smile and say "eeeh..eh..eh..." lol maybe sitting in an akward silence makes me look less like an idiot XD
Thats another thing me and my friend have in common. She does exactly the same, the "eh eh eee" thing I mean. And whenever I do it, I picture her expression. I think because we are together so often, we do mimic eachother a lot. And I like it. I'm telling you, we're almost like relatives or something.
Ahaha, I bet she choked on her Plum Chocolate right now 'cause I know she doesn't really love her relatives much. Ahahah. :D
Yesterday we were making pizza and opening a can of pineapple (I instantly remembered how I opened peaches the last time in my kitchen...*cough*) and I told her: Wait...you eat pineapple?
For some reason I thought she didn't eat pineapple...nor anything in the food chain.
Then she reminded me of the things she doesn't eat and I said (with pride in my voice) that I eat anything that doesnt wear underwear and she said: ...and you dont eat liver.
I was gobsmacked. How does she know this? Damn, I have a really bad memory, but still...even if I had told her...how did she remember?!
Then I made a little pathetic attempt to make a joke by saying "let's add some capsicum" (she hates it) and she said: "or corn."
And I was gobsmacked TWICE
I HATE corn! How did she know??
That's true love, Im telling you.
Plus the love we both share for music. It's unbelievable.
We like different genres and styles, but the amount of love and interest we put into it is the same.
When I meet her then I already know that she has some new tracks which she wants me to hear and so do I. When I meet her then I know she has some cool facts or something interesting to tell me. When I meet her then I know that she has found some cool offers that might interest us both. When I meet her then I know that I wont get bored and we are really living our lives with one hundred and ten km per hour.
That's the coolest thing. I feel that in our relationship we are equal, you know. I find this very important. She is a lot smarter than me, a lot quicker when it comes to learning and oh...in so many things is she better than me. But for some reason she still wants to hang with me. So I guess I have qualities that she likes too...which alltogether makes us a perfect team.
Vive l'Algerie!
That's one of those inside jokes we have & that makes others just roll their eyes when the 2 of us start snickering in the corner somewhere.
Lol you see it still makes me laugh when I remember how I asked her to teach me some french and she promised to find some useful sentences and bring them to school the next day. And that she did.
Here's a sneak peek on the "useful sentences" she printed for me:
Pourquoi est mon ane mort? - Why is my donkey dead?
Je voudrais etre un ananas. - I would like to be a pineapple.
J'ai une grenouille dans mon bidet! - I have a frog in my bidet!
And the vocabulary part was quite short as she thought I needed to know only one word:
un pamplemousse - grapefruit
So instead of learning some good and useful sentences which may come in need some day...I walked around in the corridors of my school mumbling: why are you burning my car...thank you very much...grapefuit....would you like to buy some stolen horses from me (aimeriez vous acheter de moi quelque cheveux voles)...goodbye...grapefruit...
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M�llar
Monday, 17 March 2008
�ksp�ev koolis ajaloo eksamiks kordamise tunnis, kus I ja II maailmas�ja toimumise t�ttu viibisime ainult mina ja mu pinginaaber, �petaja k�sis, et kas mul on kuulmis- v�i n�gemism�lu.
N�gemism�lu on ju eksole see, kui sa vaatad kusagilt koltunud paberilt mingit teksti ja siis see j��b sulle hiljem mingite blokkidena ja asukohtade j�rgi meelde. No...seda mul ei eksisteeri, sest m�nikord ma �ritan visuaalselt j�tta meelde teksti v�limust ja sisu ja siis p�rast kontrollt��
ajal ma m�letan nii enamv�hem kuidas tekst v�lja n�gi, aga see sisu koosneb s�nadest nagu "naginnaginnagin pots mj�uu" ja j��bki kontrollt��k�simusele vastamata. Millegip�rast ei tundu, et �hiskonna�petajale meeldiks, kui ma Mussolini valitsemisstiili kohta selliseid s�nu kasutaksin.
Viimase f��sika kontrollt�� ajal ma kirjutasin Koperniku esimese seaduse asemel kolmanda ja just nimelt selle sama n�gemism�lu t�ttu. Ma �ritasin visualiseerida kuidas see seadus mu vihikusse kritseldatud oli. Mulle meenus, et joonis oli �leval ja tekst all. Ja tekst tuli ka meelde selle abil.
Siis andsin t�� �ra ja l�ksin oma kohale tagasi ja vaatasin vihikusse. Ma olin kirjutanud kolmanda seaduse. Esimene oli mitu lehte eespool ja hoopis teistmoodi kujundusega.
Kuulmism�lu on see, kui keegi vatrab ja siis sa p�rast m�letad. Suhteliselt t��tu iseenesest ma kujutan ette, kui sa juhtud paljude inimestega r��kima ja enamus neist kiidab pr�gisorteerimise plusse vms. �hes�naga, mul seda m�lu ka ei ole, sest r��gi v�i �ra r��gi, mina ikka ei m�leta.
Seega ideepoolest ma j�in �petajale vastuse v�lgu ja samal ajal j�udsin j�reldusele, et mul ei olegi m�lu. Ja ongi nii. Tavaliselt kipub domineerima see, kas m�letad mis juhtus hiljuti v�i mis juhtus aastaid tagasi. Ma ei m�leta kumbagi. Ja t�siselt. Minevikust meenuvad mulle m�ned kindlad harvad seigad. Kui ma peaksin nad kokku lugema siis j��ks see arv kusagile viie kanti.
Reisim�lestused on minu jaoks alati pudru ja kapsad olnud. Ma ei tee vahet erinevatel maadel ega isegi mandritel. Kunagi ma panin selle nooruse arvele, et ah v�ike laps ajabki sassi ja unustab. Ema ikka pidevalt k�sis, et oi kas sa m�letad T�rgis seda linna v�i Itaalias seda maakohta v�i kirikut v�i puud v�i restorani v�i maja. Ta ei m�istnud kunagi kuidas ma ei m�leta halligi. Ta justkui ei uskunudki. Kuigi mingi pirnike pidi ta peas ju ometigi s�ttima, kui ta kord �le poole tunni mulle �ritas meenutada, et ma olen Cyprosel k�inud. Ta t�i isegi albumid v�lja.
J�i mulje nagu ma oleks mingi aine all olnud seal reisil. No kuidas ma mitte midagi ei m�leta? Tsitruseallergia?
Mul on s�ber, kes alati naerab mu m�lu �le. Tal endal on suurep�rane ja isegi veidi nilbe m�lu. Ta m�letab kellaaegu ja kuup�evi ja nimesid ja arve ja mis ilm oli. Lausa haiglane.
Kord ta �tles mulle, et talle meeldis kui me �kskord suvel ��sel telefonis r��kisime. Ta �tles, et Tallinnas oli �udne vihmasadu olnud, aga mina olin linnast v�ljas rannas ja ma olin talle �elnud et mul on kollane pluus. Ja ...maitea...ta m�letas nii palju fakte.
Mina seevastu ei m�letanud kogu situatsiooni nagu �ldse mitte.
V�ibolla mul l�heb elust h�sti palju kaduma, aga v�ibolla ma just v�idan sellega, et...noh..tead k�ll..kes vana asja meenutab sellel silm peast v�lja. Mul j��vad m�lemad silmad alles.
T�na ma s�itsin �htul viimase bussiga koju ja n�gin �hte �li chilli vanameest. Tal oli selline old-school riietus lipsu ja k�igega. Ja m��rdundroheline jope ja ruuduline hall kaabu. Pilk oli selline m�nusalt ��kullilik, suurte sarvraamidega prillidega. Annab kuidagi lapsiku mulje, naiivse.
Ja �le �la oli tal nahast nagu...kast. Portfell. Aga kasti kujuga. Justkui mingi ..kuidas neid nimetatakse...need pillid mida pead v�ntama ja siis seest tuleb muusikat. �hes�naga, selline oli tal pika pika pika nahast paelaga �le �la. Kuna ta oli suhteliselt v�ikest kasvu siis see "kast" oli peaaegu maani.
Ja ta tuli sisse ja j�i ukse juurde seisma, hoidis postist kinni. Igakord kui buss p��ras siis see v�ike vanamees paindus nagu juustupulk. Kord ette-, kord tahapoole.
Siin �he autoturu juures buss l�heb j�rsust kurvist l�bi ja see vanamees nii vahvalt hakkas tahapoole painduma ja paindus ja paindus ja paindus ja ma m�tlesin et no n��d paneb k�ll silla �ra, aga kohe hetke p�rast buss p��ras teisele poole ja vanamees sujuvalt paindus p�sti ja siis pisut ettepoole.
Ma ostsin t�na Vonneguti "Kodumaata mehe" ja lugesin bussis peaaaegu pool raamatust l�bi. See ei ole v�ga paks.
Ma mitu korda naersin. Mulle seni meeldib. Kui ma l�bi saan siis ma teen mingi review v�ibolla. Tal on h�id ideid. Mulle meeldib tema m�te, et ilma huumorita siin maailmas l�bi ei saa. Ma t�iesti n�ustun.
K�isin t�na kinos. Vaatasin "There is no country for old men". See oli m�nusalt s�rreaalne, m�nusalt kahtlane. Veidi teistsugune kui ma ette kujutasin. Ma arvasin, et see on ehk...naljakam...v�i mingitpidi idiootsem, aga tegelikult see oli v�ga t�sine...suhteliselt julm.
Aga mulle meeldi see teatud soojus seal. Tegevus toimus palju kusagil liivastel t�hermaadel v�i steppides etc ja valgus oli kollane...ma tundsin kui soe on see tuul seal.
Pluss mulle meeldis see paha mees. Ta tuletas oma soengu poolest Willy Wonkat meelde. Aga ta silmad olid sellised h�sti huvitavad...punnsilmad nagu kalal...aga mingi teatud uimasusega seotud pohhuistlik teravus oli seal. Ja ta naeratus oli liiga lapsik, et t�si olla.
Paar kohta olid nagu t�iega head. Sellised, mida ma tahaks veelkord vaadata. Mu toa seinal v�iks suur ekraan olla. Ja maailmas v�iks rahu valitseda.
Ma t�in akvarellid linna. Ma arvan, et t�na ma joonistan m�ned k�ed.
Ma joon ananassi-laimi smuutit ja kuulan p�ris chilli plaati. Meeldiv �llatus oli selle cd n�ol.
Nii selle blogi kirjutamine kui lugemine on �ks korralik ajude penetratsioon. Tekib k�simus, et miks �ldse kirjutada mitte millestki midagi. Vastust ei olegi. *s��b torti*
Minu ja mu aju. Me oleme sinas�brad, ammused tuttavad, vanad kaamerad.
Ma lugesin kuidas Vonnegut kirjutas, et inglise keele teaduskonnad tunnevad suurt hirmu k�iksugu teaduse ja keemia valdkondade ees. Ja siis nad muutuvad kriitilisteks.
See on t�pselt see, mida mina olen alati m�elnud.
Mingil p�hjusel on k�ige �lbem �petaja alati eesti keele �petaja. �ra saa valesti aru, k�ik kes on mingis teatud valdkonnad v�ga head, saavutavad mingisuguse �lbuse v�i enesekindluse. Aga inimesed, kes arvavad, et oskavad kirjutada, on ERITI ennast t�is.
Ma pole seda kunagi seedinud.
Miks teeb s�nade �ksteise ritta asetamise oskus sind paremaks kui teised. Miks peaksid sinu ideed faking head olema? Nagu mine putsi.
Ma arvan, et need kes on �hteviisi taiplikud mitmel erineval alal, kuid ei viitsi eriti kirjuta, on teinekord m�rksa targemad kui need, kes vihuvad sahtlisse kirjutada.
Nad ei kirjutagi sahtlisse vaid egosse.
Ja siis tekib mingi hirm matemaatika ja ...bioloogia v�i maitea...maalimise ees. Ja siis arvatakse, et ah, kirjutamine on enivei palju intelligentsem oskus.
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Nighttttttrain
Sunday, 9 March 2008
Well, hello to you too.
Took this pic in Hesburger the other day.
I don't have anything to write about tonight, so expect at least a page or so.
I went to a party on saturday. And there was a female DJ. God, she looked so awsome. Plus I really really enjoyed her choice of tracks. Somewhere in the middle she played Nighttrain. It's like...one of my fave tracks!!!
None of those male pricks ever play it. Plus they have this cocky look upon their faces and when you ask for a track then they totally check you from toes to eyes. Not to mention everything in between.
She did a superb remix right on the spot....yea...I loved it. People were screaming and jumping. I would love to go to a club in a foreign country. Greece or Italy ..and then totally let the music fill my soul and body. Jump and shout. My dream. With really good music of course. The freshest tracks, the best DJ's.
My parents came from Egypt today. They are tanned.
I looked all the pics through on the camera. I noticed some pretty hot guys. Lol, arabic, lol.
I'm getting pathetic. XD
I really can't think of anything to write about...
Breathe You In (Fiasco's Chunkafunk Mix) - Samantha James
Mission Seagulls has begun. I think everyone knows the fairytale where a little duck grows up and actually turns out to be a swan. My mission includes losing weight. :D And at the moment I am a duck. But I know that I will never be a swan..so maybe I can at least turn into a seagull or something...hence the name: Mission Seagulls!
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Bucovina!
Wednesday, 5 March 2008
I like this track so much. But when you add a superb video, then it's even better.
I wish I could do like the guys in the vid.
Anyway, watch it! It's great! :)Ian Oliver Feat. Shantel - Bucovina
Ah, I thought, what the hell, why not add Samim's heater too. For those who haven't seen it yet (yes there still are some :) )
I like the muslim guy who plays the accordion. :D He looks so freakin' happy infront of the pyramids. :D
Not to mention the dude in the bunny suit! :D
Samim - Heater
I hope these videos make you smile, because they sure made me feel better! :)| 0 comments | |
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"The common element of most house music is a 4/4 beat generated by a drum machine or other electronic means (such as a sampler), together with a solid (usually also electronically generated) bassline. Upon this foundation are added electronically generated sounds and samples of music such as jazz, blues and synth pop. House music has been sub-divided into a bewildering number of sub-categories."
"The best house music is the original one, born in the USA. I don't know how people in italy can call house a drum plus a bass...That is not house, it's something that kills the ears! The electro house is boring, very boring, and easy to do... What a difference with artists like Barbara Tucker or Dave Morales..."
I read it on a forum.
Hey, nice. Real' nice.
Clubculture is deeply rooted in Italy. During the 70's and 80's it was The Shit. Ok, I like Morales, but I'm still stayin' true to 21.century electro beat.
I would have loved to chill to garage house in Detroit back in the 80's and I have to agree that nowadays every single random italian dude calls himself a dj, but how can you say electronical dance is easy to do and boring. I've listened to a lot of crap though. What they do is just basically add some bass, lose the best parts, and kill the soul of the track.
On the other hand, there are some really strong dj's and they are newcomers. So thumbs up, I'm gonna stick with 'em. I like electro.
Listened to minimal last night. Kinda gets my mind wandering.
Really lookin' forward to friday, to hear some techno. Yeah, I'm not a fan of techno nor progressive house, BUT last time I was at the same party and I fuckin' loved the music. Im gonna go back and just let it run through my veins.
Ps. What's with Ibiza anyway? I understand u get the coolest names to play there, but is acting like a moron mandatory?! I've watched vids on youtube and people have sent me some. And almost everyone makes a complete ass of themselves. Is nice. (Y)
I would like to see the sunset and -rise there. With some really neat music.
But no horny guys with fucking purple wigs, thanks but no thanks.
every city lights
i've been leaving my home
every week in a row
since i follow the move
and i rate the night
i repeat to myself
and i repeat to my crowd
everywhere i go
everywhere i play
everytime your there
always make my day
The History...
"Frankie Knuckles and Larry Levan...
They will be the creators of House music.
In 1969, Frankie Knuckles, 15 years old, meets the young Larry Levan...
In 1972, they work together at the Gallery thanks to Nicky Siano.
They discover there their first turntables and follow the good advices of Mr Siano..."| 0 comments | |
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<3
Sunday, 2 March 2008
S �tleb:
tead ma panin chatcitys et �rge kontakteeruge kui ingliskeelt ei m�ika
S �tleb:
ja siis sain siukse message et
S �tleb:
alguses l�in k�ega vastu otsaesiest..siis hakkasin naerma ja l�pux ytlesin awwww
S �tleb:
"on about why we need to in english
SEI MOLTO BELLA! "
M �tleb:
awwwwwwwww
M �tleb:
nii ongi noh
Stella �tleb:
ja ongi!!!!!!| 0 comments | |
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Did everybody notice that my previous blog had a rather weird first sentence.
I am eating candy right now and I was discussing with WW that...erm actually she was quiet and probably in the other room, doing smth important, and I did all the yapyapyap'ing by myself...so...I (!) was discussing with myself that...oh my god I must really be a superwoman because I am able to eat the whole pack of those candies...which I, in fact, don't even like much. And then I said to myself...wait! No! You are not a superwoman because it's no big deal to eat lots of candy. Superwoman would resist eating it..superwoman wouldn't touch a single one! That really earns her the name "super"woman.
Anyway...
who ate all the candy, damn. *angry face*
To continue with my favourite subject "eating and food", I will talk about my last night's food fest in the Old Town. No it wasn't some big event where a lot of people stuff sandwiches down their throat...no, it was one of those everyday situations where I went out to eat "a bit"...take a modest snack...a bite or two.
I ended up eating more than I should, as always.
Yesterday my childhood friend had her 18th birthday party. After it I had some time to grab a bite with another of my close friends. It was snowing heavy. We parked the car. Then we parked it again. She is blonde too. Then we sat in the car for 5 minutes because I wanted to put my scarf around my head to keep my hair from getting wet.
Then I came out and my friend squeezed herself out too, because she had parked too close to the other car.
We walked through the whole Old Town, some really old and rather creepy looking men waved to us and a couple tried to talk.
We walked into the restaurant and as it was completely full, we decided to go to another place. We went to the door and I asked her if my scarf was okay. She said, yes you look like a blonde Taliban warrior. I started to laugh and said: "I wanna be a... "at the same time I pulled the door open and finished my sentence right into the face of a boy about my age "...SEXY blonde.." the last words came out kinda vaguely "...Taliban fighter."
The boy looked at me with pure fear in his eyes. He went by us faster than the wind. My friend started laughing and I said something along the lines of..."that didnt go well..."
So now we went to another place to eat and everything was nice until dessert.
I have to start from the beginning. We went in and ordered pasta. She is my original pasta alla carbonara friend. With her everything started for me. Years years years ago she told me she really likes spaghetti and she found this really good spaghetti. It was called spaghetti alla carbonara. After that one summer we went to Italy and there she ordered the same food in every fucking restaurant. I was like...what's with the carbonara???
Then I came home...and ate it at a local italian restaurant. God...I fell in love. Instantly.
I remember I sat at school and literally counted hours until I can go and eat it. With friends or alone. I didnt care. Many times I went and ate it alone.
Years have passed, I've had a lot of fun with carbonara, I've introduced it to many new people. They all seem to love it.
Now we both ordered carbonara, without saying a word. Yes we waved with hands and did funny facial expressions to the waiter. LOL, no. We didnt say a word to EACHOTHER about the pasta! :D
Also my friend said that njamnjamnjam she is so hungry that she will also order a dessert, cr�pes with ice cream.
I thought..nah...not good for my so called diet, I'll pass.
We ate our carbonaras and talked a lot. She is always so interesting to talk to. She is really one of those intelligent people who you get neat ideas which to stole and use in your own best interest. I'm lucky to have her in my life, we have been friends for a very long time. I was I don't know...3 years old or something.
We talked and ate and...then suddenly I feel, god, I want ice cream, I really want ice cream. So I told her - wait, I'll go and order some ice cream.
Behind the counter was a rather young guy, okay-looking. I took the menu and looked at it and I raised my eyes and he was looking me with a surprised/shocked face (imagine what an hour of snow falling right into your face can do to your mascara)
I looked at the menu again and then raised my eyes and noticed the guy was STILL looking at me. He coughed and tried to look away. I felt uncomfortable, but so did he. I'm thinking about sending him a postcard with a picture of a raccoon soon.
I told him what I wanted (Ice cream sundae) and paid and went quickly back to my friend. We talked for 5 min or so and then the waiter came and put the ice cream sundae infront of me on the table. I was trying not to look at him, grabbed the spoon and started eating the ice cream immediately.
We spoke about books we had read recently and my friend told me some really neat things she had read about. Suddenly I told her that damn all this chocolate on my ice cream is making me sick. I didn't want chocolate. I just wanted pure vanilla ice cream, and lots of it! But I only got one scoop and it was situated on a little pancake which was full of chocolate too. Too sweet for me.
My friend said: "mmm...that's exactly what I would like now...chocolate and pancakes. Damn where are my cr�pes?!"
The waiter came to take away my glass and asked if he could take my plate too. I said: "nonono, I'm still eating." I'm an estonian woman, I want to eat! I got one lousy scoop and he tries to take it away when I've had time to eat only half of it.
He blinked a little and said: "okayyy...."
My friend told him that: "Excuse me, I ordered cr�pes with ice cream..could I have them now?"
The waiter looked at her and asked if she was sure. My friend said that yes she is sure and the waiter promised to find out what was the deal with 'em.
In a few minutes he came back and put a huge glass bowl of vanilla ice cream in front of her. And looked at us with an ironic expression.
...
We both looked at the empty a bit chocolaty plate infront of me. I put down the spoon.
We were both silent. And then I said with this pathetical nervous voice: "eee....guess who ate your cr�pes..."
Fortunately I have a really sweet friend and she just started laughing real' hard and then I started doing the same and soon we were rolling on the sofa, trying to muffle the laughter into pillows.
That's what happens when 2 blondes go to a restaurant. My friend said that it's all the waiters fault. When you see 2 blondes have ordered somewhat similar things, then you have to go and say:
"This is ICE CREAM, yes, ICE CREAM, there is no chocolate, no pancakes, no cr�pes, just pure ordinary vanilla ice cream. And YOU ordered this. I am going to put it on the table. *turns to the friend* And YOU, don't even think about trying to eat it even though I put it in front of you on the table because there is a glass infront of your friend which I have to move first. NO! Don't take the spoon. You DID NOT order this!"
The funny thing is that my friend started now eating the ice cream and said: "ufff...I want chocolate. With cr�pes...full of chocolate..." And she gave my plate a sad look.
And I added with sadness in my voice: "This was EXACTLY what I wanted too...a big bowl of vanilla ice cream."
We begun laughing again so hard. My stomach hurt after that.
Or maybe it hurt because I ate carbonara, cr�pes and after that I helped my friend finish off the ice cream too.
So, don't ever go to a restaurant with me because first I eat your food and then I'll eat mine too.
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