ponedjeljak, 27.04.2009.
"Nije da inače gledam gole tete, ali..."
Taman nakon što sam obavila razgovor sa Glasnikom, koji s vremena na vrijeme svrati do moje butige da podijeli samnom pokoju mudrost iz Biblije, oštro osudi način na koji ljudi danas žive život, krađe, boleštine raznorazne, ubojstva i seksualne perverzije (prije braka), a ja ga pažljivo saslušam, empaticno klimnem glavom pokoji puta te ponudim neku od svojih mudrosti za uzvrat (a jako mu se dopada moj optimizam i ljubav prema bližnjem - sreća njegova, nije me imao prilike bolje upoznati), dotrči mi kolegica Marica sa urotničkim smjeskom na usnama i zločestom iskrom u okicama. Nije da inače gledam gole tete, kaže ona dok mi razdragano maše oličenjem hrvatskog dvadesetčetverosatnog novinarstva pred očima, ali vidi - varaju! I zaista, varaju, a ona ih je ufatila na djelu dok su istu mladu damu pokušali progurati u 2 različita izdanja, jednom kao ruskinju, a drugi put kao ukrainku sa tri ljeta razlike medju njima. Ma, banda, ogorčeno ću ja.
Imao je Glasnik pravo, džaba meni moj optimizam kad je u Knjizi zapisano - blizi nam se apokalipsa!
petak, 17.04.2009.
Pa da probamo ovako:
Naime, El Journal je moje fangirl utočište i ne dam ga lako. A s obzirom da me već par ljudi pitalo da im pokažem što ja to pišem i kako, odlučih staviti jednu kratku na ovaj blog. Pa nek ih voda nosi.
Title: Until it breaks (a ficlet)
Fandom: Angel of Death
Pairing: Vera/Eve | AU of sorts. A mix of episode 6 and 9, with a twist.
Summary: Eve doesn’t need a friend.
Disclaimer: The story is mine-ish. Characters are not.
And, of course, unbeta’d.
She used to be glamorous. She used to dance and sing and sit at the best tables at the finest restaurants with the most notorious of men. And they took care of her. They bought her clothes and jewelry. They showed her off like she was a lady and threw money at her for acting like a whore when no one but them was watching. And she loved it. She soaked in every minute of it, just like she downed every drink she was being bought or every line of cocaine offered to her. It was the life. Even after they stopped treating her like a lady and demanded only the whore from her, the clothes were still nice. The jewelry was still sparkling, and the split lips and bruises they left behind healed on their own, anyway.
It took her long enough, but she smartened up. Quitting the rough trade was difficult enough, but at least she quit it while she was still alive.
It seemed like some other life, eons ago. She was sober (or trying to be), older and, she’d like to think, wiser than that young Vera so many years ago used to be. But God, did she miss the clothes and glamour and being a lady.
There was a glass of bourbon in her hand – just one drink, nothing excessive! – and feather boa wrapped around her neck. The dress she found in the back of Eve’s wardrobe fit her perfectly. A touch of the old times, Vera smiled for herself, and then twirled in place. She’ll be damned, but she still had her figure! And with just a little bit of make up, she’d have them all on their knees in front of her.
“I don’t need a friend,” a raspy voice broke Vera’s reverie and the woman turned to face two tired eyes watching her from the sofa on the other end of the apartment.
The girl, bruised and battered, but still strong enough to defy every single attempt her neighbor made to take care of her, watched her from her seat. Resigned, if not disapproving eyes followed Vera’s performance in front of her imaginary audience. It took a while, but Vera noticed one corner of the girl’s mouth twitch in a smile.
“You like to think so, sweetheart, don’t you?” Vera pranced majestically until she stood right in front of Eve. She struck a pose there and it made Eve smile, genuinely. “You’d like to believe that you are enough for you, that you don’t need a friend or a lover or a companion of any sort.”
“I never said anything about a lover.” Eve smirked. “Lovers come in handy.”
“Yes,” Vera downed her drink and then plopped onto the sofa next to Eve, “they certainly do.”
“Which one of those three are you trying to be?”
Vera liked the bluntness Eve so effortlessly conveyed. With one eyebrow raised and her empty glass dangling from her fingers in a wordless demand for a refill, she replied innocently: “I’m just here for the clothes. And to make sure you don’t get yourself into any more trouble. Not tonight, at least.”
“I am trouble.”
“Yes, that I can see.” Her fingers gently touched, then moved aside a strand of blond hair to reveal a nasty bruise just under Eve’s hairline. Vera clucked. “Such a pretty girl…”
“I don’t need a mother either.” Eve huffed while pouring bourbon into Vera’s glass.
“And that I certainly do not wish to be!” Vera huffed back right before she retrieved her glass and then took care of the bourbon in it in one single gulp.
“You won’t live to be much of anything if you don’t stop hanging around me.”
“What could possibly happen to me in your company that I haven’t been through before?”
With her forefinger and thumb arranged in a gesture of a gun, Eve pointed to the side of Vera’s head. She leaned in closer to the older woman and whispered, “A bullet to your brain? A whole new, and very memorable experience, I’m sure.”
“So be it! As long as I get to go out in style!” It was probably the alcohol talking but Eve was still annoyed with her neighbor’s persistence. “And in such a charming company…”
“Listen-”
“Please, call me Vee-ra. Like you do. Come on!”
“Listen… Vee-ra,” Vera’s eyes beamed like a little girl’s and she clasped her hands around Eve’s making the young woman exhale loudly in exasperation. “I am not joking. One time was a gamble. Twice was pushing your luck. Third time someone is going to end up dead and I’m pretty sure it won’t be me. I appreciate the help, but I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, hush!” Vera squeezed her hand. “Pour me another drink. And then tell me your story.”
The end.
utorak, 14.04.2009.
Kako je Kristina još jednom dokazala da nije dostojna svojih godina (iliti, razlog br.7 zbog kojeg treba da se leči)
Ovaj sam postić napisala jučer, postala ga pa ga maknula jer sam mislila Možda ipak ne bih trebala. A što ako dotična SLUČAJNO čita blog.hr pa naleti na ovaj blog pa pročita pa se prepozna pa me skonta pa zaključi da sam frik pa pošalje muža ili nešto slično. A što ako bla bla bla... Uglavnom, kužite dilemu. A onda sam si opet pomislila, Ma yebeš. I voila!
Netko tamo gore me fakat uzeo na tapetu. Jest da znam primiti šalu na svoj račun, ali ovo je zaista presmiješno (and not in a good way).
Od danas je veza između Ratnice i mene prešla na novi, viši stupanj. Naime, she acknowledged my existence. I to ne u stilu da je primijetila da joj se tamo netko muva u perifernom vidnom polju ili da joj se neka budala našla na putu pa je onako u autopilot modu rekla Ispričavam se i pomaknula se u stranu, nego je stala, pogledala me u oči i nasmiješila se. MENI!
Priča ide ovako: u K Centru je pumpa za bicikl na akciji, a meni pumpa treba. Također, Fic je spalila slušalice pa ja, da budem dobra seka, idem svojoj Fic kupiti nove. Kako sam kratka s lovom, odem prvo do bankomata podići koju kunu da sve to lijepo i po propisu platim. I dok se ja muvam sa kešom i nofčanikom i karticom, pred K Centrom zabrunda motocikl. I to ne Vespa ili Kolibri ili neki drugi metroseksualni skuterčić već pravi, veliki sportski motocikl, zeleni sa crnim i crvenim duminama po sebi. Narafski, instinktivno, moja pozornost odluta u smjeru brundanja jer sam očekivala susjeda Motomahera, ali lo and behold, nije momak na motoru, nego mlada dama.
Slobodno si zamislite moj šokirani izraz lica kad je dotična dama sišla s motocikla i skinula kacigu sa glave, a ja ugledala nikog drugog nego Ratnicu. OMFG! U tom sam trenu zaboravila i na keš i na karticu i na pumpu i na slušalice i na bilo što drugo na svijetu. Kad sam shvatila da sad već ne samo da zurim nego i da sam počela sliniti u javnosti na brzinu sam se okrenula i šmugnula unutra da se još i dodatno ne osramotim.
I dok sam ja hiperventilirala trčeći da što prije uđem u K Centar i obavim što trebam, čujem iza sebe kako ženski glas viče Gospođice! Moš mislit kako sam kontala da netko mene zove dok taj netko nije viknuo Kristina! Sekundu kasnije osjetim ruku na ramenu i zaustavim se. Kristina? Okrenem se, kao ono OMFG!!! Ratnica stoji, smije se i maše mi karticom ispred nosa. Susjeda, mislim da je vama ispalo.
Stvarno, u cijelom to mom spastičnom šoku, ispustila sam karticu pored bankomata i utekla, kako to samo ja bangava mogu biti, a object of my unhealthy and completely imaginary desire mi je došla kao vitez na bijelom konju. Ili, još bolje, kao ratnica na moćnom bajku. I tako sam ja ostala lebdjeti na mom oblačiću dok je ona kulerski odšetala, a ja sam se topila i topila i topila.
Na kraju ni pumpu ni slušalice nisam kupila.
petak, 10.04.2009.
"Reguliranje prometa"
Sinoć sam, nakon posla, otišla malo prošvrljati po osječkoj news grupi da vidim što ima novo (posebno u slučaju "Debeli, The Gradonačelnik") gdje sam naišla na jedan post koji me prvo toliko nasmijao da se nisam smirila deset minuta, a onda naljutio jer je u pitanju križanje u mom kvartu zbog kojeg u posljednje vrijeme gubim razum jerbo izgleda kao ratna zona i ne zna se tko pije a tko plaća. Evo što je moj susjed, Nokru031, imao za podijeliti sa svojim osječanima:
http://g.imagehost.org/0455/DSC00105.jpg
http://g.imagehost.org/0420/DSC00106.jpg
vozaci poceli trubiti i psovati, a pjesaci u smijehu i nevjerici.
I sad ti u tom Osijeku ostani normalan.
četvrtak, 09.04.2009.
Samo kratko
To avoid future embarrassment: naučiti primjećivati razliku između fotografije Zooey Deschanel (good) i Katy Perry (bad).
Plus, Uvod u anatomiju me odavno ne zanima, ali me sad počinje i opasno živcirati. Čak i više od onih Kućanica, a to nije an easy task.
petak, 03.04.2009.
"...a fairytale in my old book of fantasy."
I baš kad sam mislila da ne mogu voljeti Goodbye više nego što volim (čak i nakon 7 godina i/ili milijuntog preslušavanja). I baš kad su moji susjedi pomislili da sam im se smilovala i prestala im bubnjati po mozgu sa mojim spanking new subwooferom, Kristina je na YouTubeu pronašla ultimate gold. Zadrhtalo je srce moje i ozarile mi se okice kad vidjeh taj božanstven prizor: dvije bajne djeve za price of one. Marta (Die Happy) i Stefanie (Silbermond) zajedno na stageu pjevaju Goodbye. I svijet je odmah a much better place.
četvrtak, 02.04.2009.
Aw.
see more Lolcats and funny pictures
srijeda, 01.04.2009.
Fun fact
Moram priznati da mi je vrlo simpatična činjenica to što moja majka gleda šestu sezonu serije The L Word prije mene. To mi daje nadu da jednog dana, kad joj se odlučim saopštiti radosnu vest da joj je kći jednako gej kao i likovi serije koju tako vjerno prati (čak joj ne smeta ni što nema hrvatskih titlova!), neće biti previše drame zbog mog izlaska iz ormara iako sam uvjerena da majka jako dobro zna kakvo je stanje stvari. Ipak je žena, dok sam bila klinka, znala svaki moj korak prije nego ga sama napravim i tako me spriječila u većini spački koje sam pripremala.
