Friday, 30 September 2016

Vita in the vineyard





Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Leaving instructions/wishes for G every morning :D


Tuesday, 27 September 2016



LOL. I’ve watched Warcraft movie and have fallen totally in cutesy lust with the guy who plays – and HOW he plays – whatshisname, the human general guy. (Fuck Alliance.) He clearly wasn’t able to go for the Aragorn approach, it would be too on the nose, so he speaks in this bizarre, almost stoned or drunk way, kind of putting words together like small wooden blocks on a string. Fucking adorable. I mention this, because I’m reading Goose out loud to keep the rhythm of the narrative going, and that’s the voice I notice I'm reading it in :D

Monday, 26 September 2016

Dreams about the weird kind of social courage

Had a cute dream that I will somehow try to incorporate into Goose, though I am not quite yet able to see how… It’s righteous, so it may turn out that this is actually something Kestrel did, as oppose to Paper, who advocates against helping people along … (Even though she always does it.)
So, in the dream I was asked to play a piano during a recital in the dance studio ran by a woman I used to do photos for. It’s an odd place, an odd place for me to perform at, pretty must any individual of her vast clientele disapproves of me. Usually they just gave me shit when I was supposed to photograph the recitals, then asked for free photos.
Also, I cannot play a single thing on the piano, or any other instrument. Tried, I suck. Tried a lot. Suck big time.
The first bit of the recital was by Tinka’s elder daughter, who is talented and around nine years old. I followed with a simple piece, but was accompanied by a young Jewish man, who played amazingly. Then I was supposed to play two more, but not only was it complicated pieces – I had no notes. The woman came to me to complain what am I doing, when i just sat there and doodled in my notes, and I said there’s no sheets for the music and I do not know them by heart. This was all horrifically embarrassing – to everyone except me. The Jewish boy did truly all he could think of to keep the concert going without making my inability too obvious. Ultimately he simply took over the main, people booed me and applauded him and I left. A few minutes later he came running after me, upset almost to tears, about how I could ruin him so badly on his first concert. I explained I was not hired to be the musician  - I was hired, because I was the actress. This made me think a little, but I was, I really could be. If ship life has taughte me anything, it was that I could act truly well.And it was the truth: if he had his first concert, the expectations would be too high and he would be exposed. This was he was not expected to do anything and yet he saved the evening and now everyone will remember me as a failure – which I could not care less about – and him as the little genius who saved the day. His next show will be amazing.He will already be famous in the positive way.
He gave me half of a Bounty chocolate and then we kissed for a long time, like schoolchildren kiss.
I’m beginning to notice I miss kissing people, mainly school boys. I mean, it’s a little late now, but even in the stories I’m noticing I skip over the sex part and just mention kissing a lot. 

And now if you'll excuse me i'm going to listen to pretty/feel-good pompous piano music by some Florian guy. 

 

Saturday, 24 September 2016

As closures go: perfect day

This was the coolest closure to an adventure one could hope for. The past few days I've been psyching myself out, worried about the boxes of books I've left behind – had they been thrown away?, will I have to face SLSB to get to them?, will any of my old friends come to say hi?, will DOo show up at all ?…
Well, this is how it all went down:
At 3:30 G and I set for Koper and the drive was lovely, pass the misty swamps and high hills and into the bay area, where we navigated through the sleeping old streets to get to a cape between the country’s only industrial port and a quaint tiny marina. It was six when we arrived, still dark, and we offed for coffee and to pee while we awaited daybreak, watching nigh fishermen return.

Gem coming in, picking up the pilot
At around seven, we paid for the parking spot ‘till noon and took the binoculars to the pier to find the Gem – which was coming very slowly, very lengthily from Venice. We watched as the ship picked up the pilot and revolved, then backed into the only available pier for cruise ships. We followed it and watched the mooring workers tie the ship to quay. It was great, listening to them work, understanding exactly what they’re complaining about :D
 
Chasing the surnise

G watching the pilots drag the freighter while we wait..

DOo was on the ship-driving-balcony often and had surely seen us, as we were mostly alone on the vast pier, and in my head he was going to ignore me entirely, but he didn’t. He waved at me and I waved back. A couple of minutes later he came out to the bridge balcony with a large palm-shaped cardboard cut-out, which is usually used for festivities, namely waving to children should an assembly of on-lookers come to the port to greet the ship. He waved that at me again. The captain came out and probably asked him what the fuck he’s doing, then they looked at me, the captain shook his head and walked back in. Oh, yeah. He remembers the red-haired photographer.
About an hour later, nine-ish, they managed to set the mooring and the gangway and although he supervised it, nothing much occurred. G and I waited behind the perimeter fence, watched freighters being loaded and some of the passengers disembark to go on excursions. Suddenly somebody grabbed me from behind and I yelped FUCK ME!?, at DOo, who was laughing behind my back, quite pink in the face, having sneaked up on me, said: ‘No, I rather didn’t…’ The General and him shook hands and we hugged and DOo asked keenly what our plans were. I said I’ll wait for him for sure, if he would like to have coffee, and we’ll watch the drill until it’s finished, no worries.
The exercise took until around eleven, by which time G and I were joined by two of the musicians from the ship. We moved to a city wall to watch the drill from above. We could see how DOo looked around to find us from the bridge balcony, and would not stop looking until he saw me waving from the wall.

watching the drill from the city wall
 When the drill was finished and my shippie shoppie buddy told me she’s getting the boxes from the lab now, I went down and DOo was already at the perimeter gate, in civilian clothing, with one of my boxes. He gave it to G who took it to the car and went in to get the other one, which was heavier. Once he came out with the other box, he said that he truly hopes there is nothing in here that would put him in prison for ten years. I said of course not, only stolen books, though if I had known he will be the one to carry them – and of course the security never dared stop him – I would make a better effort to be an international drug smuggler.
The box was too heavy, so Tom and the others, who joined us half a minute later, having previously waved at us from the drill assembly, put it on a skate-board until the General came back again. We walked to the café I knew, DOo and I talking and the rest of our company, some five or six more people, following, talking about Venice.
We sat down and spent about two hours chatting, drinking. I sat on a bench between G and DOo, mostly talking to DOo. G said I am awfully condescending to him, even rude, and upon introspection later, I supposed that this is an attitude that’s developed between us over time, not from the start. I suppose we always spoke to one another in a deeply condescending, patronising tone, calling one another bad things, telling each other what to do and how to do it.
Because he’s never been out with company and most of the rest were people half our age, he did feel a little bit of fish-out-of-water, but then again so were G and I. Most of these people have never met DOo and would not engage with an officer of such a rank. Nobody ever spoke to him, ever. The guys had a good time on their own, comparing notes, occasionally engaging in the conversation if I was talking. Tom came into a dialogue when I handed DOo a memory stick with movies and TV shows I thought might make days go faster, agreeing with my selection.
This went on for a while. DOo left to go check out the marina and the sailboats in it and later the gang left to go test-drive the rentable riksha-bikes. DOo came back and we walked a little, talking about whether he should do something about SLSB, who now seemed to be in the practice of picking on the new videographer girl. I said I don’t know if it’s worth the bother, but if he wants, sure, he can face him and make sure SLSB stays down. In truth Hotel Managers change so quickly, everyone just puts the obligation on the next one and nothing ever gets solved. I did nearly piss myself when the photo girl, my heir, said SLSB told her, on the first day: “Don’t touch my computer, don’t touch my bed….”
O.o
LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL
Well, first of all, it isn’t his computer, it’s the agency’s and everyone was supposed to be able to use and handle every piece of equipment, so that should occasion arise, we would all be able to help one another… As for the ‘stay away from my bed’ bit … Ye, I can’t even begin to explain to you that one. It’s like a guy like this – telling a woman like this – to not chase him and they won’t be having any problems…


Sigh. Well, my shippie shoppie then showed up and DOo had to return to the ship. I hugged and kissed him and said goodbye. G and I returned to the car to get some picnic food and water, then sat by the sea in the park and talked about the day. It was a good day and these were really nice people. G finally began to understand what a good group can do for your morale, if they see you’re down and they choose to help you. There was a bit of an instance when I managed to spill some ice-cream down my shirt, which would have been incredibly embarrassing in any other group – but here I just said: “It was well deliberate - I only do this so as to draw attention to my breasts..”
Really. Fucking awesome closure of a day.  

Tuesday, 20 September 2016

Went to Ljubljana a couple of days ago, to catsit the professor's flat – an occurrence that always somehow translates to a few days of vacation-in-a-metropola mood. I oft let some people know I’m there, but not too many. I was going to go Tuesday eve, alas was so tired and had such a tummy ache, I just boarded the earliest train the next day and arrived to LJ at seven.
Ljubljana, as all large towns, has all these chronological different faces: at seven in the morning, at dawn, all the shops are being readied, streets are being cleaned, tables are being scrubbed and chairs set, panels displayed, menus distributed, vans deliver daily goods, machines for ice-cream are being powered up, rare civilians rush about… At eight, it’s another story: most places are already full, people eating breakfast, folk stopping for first coffee on their way to work, stores are opening … And so on, until around six, when afternoon drinks are served after a long day at work, then later dinners set in and later still evening drinks with music, performances in the streets and still some semblance of night life sounds from the bars and restaurants. It was still warm, still some lingering taste of summer. Ema joined us and we had drinks, then took some night photos of her dancing in the streets. The rest was pleasant women’s banter, talking about men and kids and in-laws and families and futures and bad plans.
Next morning, Ema and I met at dawn to continue our shoot. We started at a pretty bridge – or under it – amidst the junky needles and construction workers fixing the channel bank. Through the waking-up town to our first coffee, where a tremendously good looking backpacker came by and sat not even few tables away from us. I stared at her and muttered: sit here, sit here, sit here… First chance I got, I approached her, asking if she has a place to stay tonight. She was a climber and camper and was on her way further south, but figured we are harmless and may be fun company, so she postponed her next move for a day. We moved slowly, photographing Ema still, towards the flat and Ema, who was the one amidst us who could cook, rummaged around the professor’s kitchen until she made some delicious Spanish pasta with garlic and cheese and tomato sauce.
The girls left and I took a nap, then wrote somewhat my ‘Chinese adventure’ chapter, until the beautiful backpacker returned with supplies, and we went out. Little Ema, who is never in any short supply of suitors, gravitated back to us at nightfall, and we spent the evening in a remote open air café, where a girl unexpectedly – and just for us, as we were the only customers – sang with a guitar. One of the songs she sang was Foo Fighter’s Wheels. It just sounded perfect right then and there.
We moved back ‘home’, Rey-look-alike and I retiring (actually I wrote a little while longer while she camped in the professor’s awesome balcony.) We awoke at 6 in the morning and packed up to get some coffee at the place where we met. The plan was to get on out rides (my train and her bus) at noon to avoid rain, but it rained the entirety of the morning and cleared up at noon. But we went to buy some tobacco for me, a new flavour ‘ve just recently discovered, and a USB key for Doo, to give him some movies to watch. He’s in a shitty mood, because he’s broken up with his GF and I wonder if he’s angry with me because he likes me too much? Be that as it may, on the train ride home, I borrowed a book from a 6ft 90 pound blonde nerd student, who strikingly reminded me of a man from my magical past, (and of whom I spoke plenty a night ago), though was not handsome, just … nerdy. The book was a hefty tome, called something like Rationalisation of Civilisation or somesuch. It read like one of those things some old white guy writes and then spends the next forty years lecturing from, and only from that and only about that. Plus it begins with Restoration, which I minded, because I believe rationalisation was a global event that took place much sooner.
Then I got home, in the nice autumn rain, dragged to my house and spent the weekend with G, working on the kitchen, going out for drinks or nice food, crazy sex and Warcraft. I feel like I’m in between good books, though, because most of the ones I pick up are angsty and I don’t particularly roll angsty. My parent’s dog is still sick :/ That part is crappy. 




Saturday, 17 September 2016

Some pickies of Ema dancing in the streets of Ljubljana (half of the story of the last three days :)