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Am periat o conversatie de mess din 2010 si am encriptat-o cu 3 metode pentru o oarecare comparatie..

Questions of marriage preoccupy all of us, at one point of our lives or another. I for one was forced to face them head on back in my undergrad, when during a French course I had to write a quick essay on getting married or searching for pleasure. Recently, a monologue about marriage came to my attention and I hurry to share it with you, primarily for the pleasure of the female readers of this blog, recently tortured by a long list of articles on politics and MEP 2014 elections (results I, II, III, UKIP, Toronto, TestVote).

The name would be longer, but I’m running out of space and patience. I don’t care much about MihaElan (yes, she lost the “n” but kept the “Schwartzenberg”) MRRR née Tiganu and yet the scandals she so often gets into have a dimension that has not really been explored in Romania, a dimension I find very interesting: women seem to be far more interested in her (both accusing and defending) than men. Why would that be? The other thing that irks me is censorship – something we should all fight foragainst, whether it comes from Mihaela Radulescu or from her post-op model Zoso. 

Recently, one of the few blogs I read went off-line, after publishing one episode of their epic sagas. It’s [sort of] about Dacians, and as a sign of solidarity, I’ve decided to give the non-Romanian world an idea about it.

A while back, I wrote briefly about "Pippi Longstocking", a book I got as a gift from a German friend. It's famous in Europe - especially Germanic countries -

The initial motivation in starting this blog was telling a number of "origin" stories. Some I have already told, some I left for later, but for the most part, telling these stories is the main raison d'etre for this collection of characters (i.e., letters, numbers and strange people – the constituent parts of this blog). One of them is the story of my last year or so in Romania, a time when I lived on my own in my Drumul Taberei / Favorit apartment.

A more recent politico-artistico-philosophical scandal, far more interesting to me but, apparently, less interesting to the Romanian public, is the open conflict between Andrei Plesu, my favourite philosesseist, and the PSD cultural wing.

Blegoo, previously profiled and published here, took some time off from shovelling to write an article for this blog, as a guest. I’m publishing it here as encouragement (longer version), with the spelling mistakes left uncorrected but listed at the end, and also detailing there the formatting work I (still) had to do.

Simona Halep just won the most important title in her career thus far (“Premier Mandatory”) by winning at Indian Wells in a disputed game against Jelena Jankovic (ceremony, part I, part II). This is the 3rd part, after bye-bye boobs and an aborted attempt to write about Simona Halep in the context of Romanian education.

I struggle to write about my grandma’s passing away, between expressing all I have to say, and staying within the limits of what a reader might find interesting or useful, without falling into too much drama.

Dupa ce acum o spatamana aflam despre o alta romanca de seama ca "o suge", iata ca blogosfera imi aduce la cunostinta ca Mrrr nu este singura femeie demna de a fi pe prima pagina, dar despre care eu habar n-am. Mai este cel putin una: Ana Birchall. I-as zice ABC, dar mi-e teama sa nu se interpreteze C ca fiind un cuvant urat, pe care nu l-as asocia cu ea.

As shown in results, in the runoff, Romanians will get to choose between Iohannis and Ponta. I wrote extensively about Ponta (dottore, virgin suicides, beligan-ponta, greatest plagiarizer, plai cu plagiat, roi rouge, geoana, partisanship, nastase), so before I tell you why I'm voting Ponta, I'll take a look at who is Iohannis.

"Little birds" is the English mot-a-mot translation of bijboace, clampacioace, fofoloance. Just the other day, a Latvian friend visited me and brought me as a gift some candy from her native country. And as she explained laughing and blushing, the candy name had a dual meaning.

A couple of years back I found myself in the Boston airport, meeting face to face Ana Birchall, whom I have previously featured on this blog. It was not a meeting organized by our respective secretaries, but it was nonetheless interesting for me.

I just had today, on WhatsApp, a conversation with a former classmate, who posted some photos from Baile Herculane (Herculean Baths? – a touristic destination from Roman times with geothermal springs). The situation is dire. I advised her rather strongly to fight, to which she countered with the refrain I constantly hear in this situations: “you are disconnected from the Romanian reality”.

I don't how much I will end up writing and whether or not I will password-protect part of it - I just know that I do. If it’s not obvious, the title makes reference to a movie about mother-daughter love with Shirley MacLaine and Jack Nicholson (clips: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9).

Today [or, more precisely, a few months ago when I re-started this article] I’ve seen the first real professionally done Romanian TV news segment on Roma. It seems to belong to Carmen Avram, Antena 3 undeva-n Ardeal. But rather than describe the atrocious conditions Roma people live in, I’d much rather tell you a small part of my own experience growing up in Bucharest in the 80s.

On the subject of long-distance communications (following my recent WhatsApp-ian conversion). And then I added something a little less annoying and quite satisfying: a debating project.

I keep talking about Sweden, but I don't think I've ever shared my personal memories. Time to do so.

One of the things I've been doing with my life lately is moving to a more “mobile lifestyle” (or “nomadic”, as a friend has described it), which includes digitizing my paper archives and moving everything online. Obviously, this involves some sort of encryption before moving stuff to the cloud, but for now, let's have a look at my old passports, which somehow makes me talk about representative democracy and its inherent corruption.