A smoke of life

It was a hot and sunny weather for Seattle that day, somewhere near May 1960. Same old, same old, the ocean view was peaceful as any day, the sun was burning the flesh off of many people, each and one of them wearing different shirts, but with one thing in common : sweat. The temperature hadn’t been less than 40 degrees for days, fact which was worrying many of our Settlers.

Elizabeth was a fine lady, freshly divorced from a five year marriage. Although many were worried about her behavior, she was acting quite unusual for a fresh divorced lady, if we include the fact that she caught her husband in bed with the dog walker, just after a hard week of work, with 2 nights of sleep. Her face was even more lightened then it was for the past couple of years.

She was walking down Morrison Avenue, wearing her thin red dress, quite provocatively, going up her knee as she walked slowly. Her long brown hair was dancing through the air, although there wasn’t any wind, her blue eyes were sparkling into the sun light, her sweet perfume was noticeable from the corner of the street. While she was making her show, amazing everyone passing by her, she violently ran into a good friend from back when she was in college.

“How are you, Elizabeth? Haven’t seen you since the old 1950’s!”
“Yes, yes, my dear Karen. Well, I just got divorced from Bill.” She said while she was trying to arrange her dress.
“Shut up! How come?!”
“Well, let us just say our dog walker just received a big tip.”
“Uh. You poor thing. I’m sorry dear. Oh, we have so much to catch up. Please, you must come by my place this week.”
“Karen, I would, I really would, but I do have a lot of court files to sign, a lot of walking to do, and of course, a lot of men to find, if you know what I mean.” she smiled in the corner of her lips.
“Yes, yes, always the busy one. I won’t take a no for an answer. Tomorrow night, 7.30 pm. And don’t be late.”
“Karen, I do thank you for your generosity, but…”
“No but! My place, and don’t be late.”
“Fine, you filthy old hag. I’ll be there.”
“Hag you say? Hah!”

Elizabeth didn’t stay for another word, just flew off on her morning walk. She didn’t have a thing to do that next day, but she always liked to be the “hard to get” kind of girl, not only to men, but to women too.
Same weather, same sun, same temperature. But not that important for Elizabeth. She was dressing up, for her dinner at Karen’s, wearing a black dress, all sorts of accessories, hoping to meet a man, as she hadn’t had sex for over a year. No wonder.
As she entered, the crackling of some fingers came from the phonogram, quite in fashion at the time. It was Peggy Lee’s new song, “Fever”, just put out on the radio for a couple of days. It was a romantic atmosphere, with cigar smoke in the whole place. The ceiling was inexistent because of all the smoke.

“Come in dear! Please do take a seat. Cigar?”
“No, thanks.”
“Oh my God, you dirty girl, don’t tell me you quitted!”
“Oh Karen, it’s been years, I couldn’t afford smoking, and it’s not healthy you know”
“Yeah right! But to pay your husband to sleep with that nasty old dog walker you had all the money in the world. Come on now, have a smoke, drink some whiskey, have some fun!”
“Karen…”
“I insist!”
“Alright, alright, for the good days. Is anyone joining us?”
“Well, my brother should have come by now, but I think he’s late. Typical.”

Elizabeth was feeling quite uncomfortable, so she took a shot of tequila, not really knowing what she was doing. In about an hour, she was as joyful as she was in the past five years summed up.
While laughing and bragging, Karen was acting very strangely around Elizabeth. She was awfully close to her, and while holding a cigar in one hand, a glass of wine on the other, she was tickling her red high healed shoe on Elizabeth’s foot, from the ankle to the knees. But Elizabeth didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh dear! I just spilt some wine on you.” Said Karen laughing loudly.
“You idiot! Look what you just did! It was my favorite dress.”
“Oh c’mon now, you’ve had it since college, I still remember that dress as it was my own. You need to get some new clothes my dear friend.” Suddenly Karen was smiling stupidly, with no worry in the world.
“This is insane. Where is your brother?”
“Oh the hell with him. What does it matter? We’re having so much fun.”
“No we aren’t. Listen it was nice chatting with you but I have to run.”
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“Stay!”

It was then when the two pair of lips interacted, the rest of the wine spilled all over the floor and the last cigar just went out. Elizabeth was shocked of her friend’s behavior.
“Oh c’mon, it’s just a little bit of fun. How long has it been since you’ve had any?”
“Karen, I don’t think this is…”
“Shut it! How long?”
“One year.”
“Well dear, my bedroom is fully prepared for these kinds of situations”

Elizabeth started crying, not understanding what she was feeling, what was happening.

“Calm down. I know what you feel. We’ve had it in the past. We still have it now.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Poor thing. Doesn’t even remember. You know our senior year? When we got really drunk? Remember the night?”
“I don’t think so and I’m not very sure I would like to remember.”
“It was just for fun! You were one naughty little person, I didn’t think I would see you in that way. I always thought you were a stiffed person, but it seems I was wrong.”
“Oh my God!”
“Shhhh, shhh, it’s alright Elizabeth. I understand you. Come on, what do you say we repeat that night? Eh? I’ll help you remember every little thing, with every little detail.”

The sheets were covered with the sin. Karen was smoking a cigar, Elizabeth was trembling, asking herself repeatedly what has she done.
Karen woke up, put out her cigar, put on her bra, started to dress up.
“Where are you going?”
“Going to meet my husband of course and to get myself some cigars.”
“You mean you’re married?!”
“Calm down, he knows I’m doing these stuff from time to time. He got used to it.”
“Wait a minute, you mean this was just pure lust? I was just something for you to get satisfied?”
“You didn’t think I’d still have feelings for you?”
“Actually, I did!”
“Oh. I’m sorry then. Anyway, I don’t love him, he’s just rich. At least I can afford a pack of cigars!”
“Does anybody mean anything to you? I don’t care if it’s a woman or a …”
“Honey. A woman’s just a woman, but a cigar…is a good smoke!”

Pe tocuri

Am sa ma abtin sa ma refer de la anumite chestii, doar pentru ca ar deveni dramatice si deprimante, asa ca voi spune ceea ce m-a pus pe ganduri de dimineata(ma rog, asa zisa semiadormita dimineata)
Am realizat ce urmaresc eu la niste pantofi. Pantofii trebuie sa fie placuti, sa nu iti omoare tot ce inseamna oase, ligamente, ce-o mai fi in picior si in glezne si in talpi. Sa aiba un toc cat sa se vada diferenta de la inaltimea normala la cea care ti-o ofera pantofii, si in special, dar cel mai mult, sa se auda. Cand pasesti sa se auda acel tropait care il recunosti intr-o seara pe strada, care sa iti dea incredere in tine. Tocurile s-au creat pentru femei, pentru ca ele sa aiba un statut mai "inalt" in societate, pentru ca niciodata ele n-au avut parte de acel respect care se ofera barbatilor, si care sa fim seriosi, nu il vom avea niciodata. So why not use this in our advantage? Oricum o femeie care poarta pantofi va fi vesnic mai frumoasa decat una in adidasi. (sau nu?)

Anyway. A, melodia e pentru mine, n-are legatura cu postu, nu e nevoie sa ascultati:) Noapte buna

Viva la vida!

Am doar niste concluzii de tras.

1. Ador ploverele cu gat la baieti, eventual crem, sau un verde ocru, sau un verde inchis..nu ma pricep exact cum is culorile si denumirile.
2. Nu cred ca trebuie sa renunt la anumite principii doar pentru ca asa e lumea si daca am aceste principii sunt doar close-minded
3. Castile mari sunt sexi. Ce urat zis. Mirobolante? Nu conteaza, oricum mi se par appealing:)
4. Roboteeeeeel!
5. Exista un singur prototip in toata lumea de baiat perfect, ideal din toate punctele de vedere, absolut toate! ... si totusi imposibil.
6. Dumnezeu se afla in a 4a dimensiune.
7. Sezonul de boboci de gasca a inceput mai repede.
8. Nu mai sunt deprimata, imi iubesc viata, doar ca ma plictisesc usor.
9. ?
10. Si totusi, mi-ar fi placut ca unele lucruri sa fie altfel.

Atat :) Va iubesc!

Mirabolant, fantasmagoric.

As avea atat de multe de zis, niciuna interesanta, dar atat ma deranjeaza.
Pentru inceput, sunt secata de-a binelea de toate activitatile de marketing care se fac in perioada asta totul in frunte cu valentine's day, dar acum vorbesc de 1 martie. si 8 martie desigur. Martisoarele au devenit ceva atat de obisnuit si nimeni n-are destul timp sa puna suflet in ele. Nu neaparat cine stie ce, dar macar o urare. Cred ca mai bine de 75% din martisoarele primite azi sunt chestii cumparate in graba. Si mi se pare inutil sa dai martisor cuiva cu care nu socializezi niciodata de-a lungul anului,dar dai ca sa fii dragut. Sincer, cred ca asta m-a facut sa ma deprim total astazi, insa poate pun eu suflet prea mult in ceva inutil. Insa sunt de parere ca se pot face martisoare ieftine si totusi mult mai interesante decat cele cumparate.
Whatever.

Alta chestie, simt tot mai tare pe piele cum cresc. N-am crezut ca pot ajunge la anii in care sa vad ce simpatica si dragalasa eram cand eram mica. Si ce simpla si trecuta prin viata sunt acum.Da, ma laud, pentru ca am ajuns sa ma scarbesc de toate tipele de care aud la televizor, de varsta mea, care sunt furate de tigani, fug de acasa ca frate, am un prieten cocalar care ma bate toata ziua da m-o lasat pentru alta, si sufar ca n-o sa mai gasesc niciodata unul ca el. Like dudettes, please do grow up!
Nu ca ele ar citi asta vreodata, ca le-ar pasa si ar avea un impact, sau o sa se maturizeze brusc.
Comparam cu poza mea cu Diana care o am in fata, si cu strambaturile mele de peste ani. Ce zambet sec si trist am acuma, doar ca sa nu arat ciudat in poza, si ce zambet sincer si fericit aveam atunci, zambeam sa se vada ca am dinti! Ca am toti 32 de dinti, ca incep sa cada, dar sunt toti, si ce dantura frumoasa aveam.
Si aveam flashbackuri ciudate, cum imi luam pantalonii de lana afara si ma tavaleam prin zapada, dar acum is prea domnisoara sa mai fac chestii de genul.
Sunt atat de revoltate pe tot ce inseamna feminitate, pentru ca prin asta te maturizezi si nu e feminin sa fii imatura. Kind of. N-am cum sa explic, dar ideea e ca n-am sa mai pot trai niciodata experienta de pantaloni de lana, de cercei de aur simpli, de plovere neasortate, de zambet larg si orice.

Doamne, ce posturi deprimate pot sa am.