Somebody, somewhere, posted a photo with a few of my primary school (Scoala Generala nr. 197) teachers. The fear of forgetting gets me to share some memories here.
Se cade sa scriu despre Oscars, c-asa-i traditia. Sa moara-n chinuri traditia! Va voi spune o poveste din copchilarie.
Home Alone in Bucharest I
Thrown (Ţâpat) in ea / el, etica, me-myself-and-i, vise - implinire - belsug
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.
When discussing history (as anything else), my primary source of “inspiration” is not Wikipedia but rather my own memory. I look up Wikipedia to find supporting evidence, however, as it can easily be accessed by anyone who’d want to verify or learn more. And in all this, the “go to figure” in my memories is the history teacher, Georgeasca.
Acum cativa ani buni - cand Connex mai exista inca sub acest nume - o pitzi corporata cu multe verde si Connex pe piept m-a cadorisit c-un dictionar. Si m-am gandit sa-l impart cu voi, ca-i fain si nu l-am mai gasit si-alt undeva.
ai venit, ai văzut, te-am viciat
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