A non-rainy rainy Sunday from a 15-year-old’s diary

It was Sunday, the 14th. A really sunny and bright Sunday in this part of the world.

Probably just like all the other Sundays in the year because I had to sit home and study. More stressful than the other Sundays as there were only five more days left until school’s out for the summer. For the first time in my life, I knew there was no chance of having the average of 5,00. I knew I would have some fours, even one 3, as I managed to screw up chemistry bigtime. But I was trying to get myself a 4 in math. One 3 and two 4s sounded much better than two 3s and one 4. So, I was stuffing my brain with sines and cosines; as I had to present the laws of trigonometry to the whole class. Nobody cared that trigonometry was voted out too hard for the first grade. I was doing everything to re-gain my pride and reputation as a knowledgable person. In the first semestre, I got to 4,53 average without any problems; but know what I had in math? A 2! A big fat 2, a proof that I was only getting by, solving the easiest of the assignments in a test, while others looked just like a bunch of undecypherable riddles dancing on the square paper in front of me. So, even though I gained 3 4s and one 3 during the second semestre, even though I had turned into a turbo-charged machine designed solely for improving math skills, using one 60-page textbook per week and barely even doing anything other than watching Viva Zwei while studying; that wasn’t enough, I had to fix my grade from the first semestre.

I made a quick break from studying to watch World cup 1998. It was held in France and Brazilians, my favourites, with my favourite footballer ever, Bebeto, on board were defending the champions’ title they won in USA four years earlier. Our national team, still called Yugoslavia back then, was in it too, in group with Germany, Iran and USA. Their first match took place on that sunny Sunday, in St.Etienne, at the Stade Geoffroy Guichard. It was so boring that it was later given the “award” of the most uninteresting game of the whole tournament. We won when the legendary Siniša Mihajlović (Sinisa, Pils leeeeit naiibolieee)scored from a free kick, which was, dare I say, expected as it was his style. However, Iranians turned out to be a promising team, they were rough, tough and dangerous, especially Ali Daei (the evil guy with ‘tache), Karim Bagheri and their most famous striker, Khodadad Azizi. Mr. Azizi looked really funny and his hair was out of place, my mom immediatelly nicknamed him “Flying Cockroach”. And he was fighting like a cat that was given a huge amount of valeriana. The game was amusing solely because of him and because of the idiotic RTS commmentator who was frenetically repeating “Bagheri….Azizi..Bagheri…Azizi, Azizi!”, which my school mates were so amused with that they were repeating it randomly throughout both classes and breaks during our last week of school. In fact, as far as I can remember, some professors begged them to stop. Oh well, at least the class was into something else than that Australian teenage TV-series everyone was obsessed with. I got sick with how Anita and Drazic were supposed to be together ever and ever, how Drazic was cool because he was a bad boy and how these two were even better than some Nick and Judy couple earlier in the series.

So, the sunny Sunday was a wasted day in many ways. I still had some math to do after the game was over and the only thing that was distracting me for it was biology. We had to prepare for a plant recognition practice on Tuesday, the 16th which was to determine our final grades. I knew that I would have a 5, anyway and I was able to recognise the most of the plants when I was 8 years old already, but either way, I took another look at the herbarium and I was ready.

Within the next couple of days, I gained a 4 in math and 5 in biology. Brazil played against Morocco and Bebeto scored a goal. Our famous Latin professor, Mirjana Maskareli got a boquet of flowers from 1-2, from my class and she got out of the class ten minutes earlier in order not to be seen with those flowers. She had to keep her reputation of an evil heartless woman, even though this almost made her cry. The last thing I wrote on the blackboard to confirm my grade for the year was Ego et tu amici eorundem puerorum sumus. And Maskareli taught us to sing Gaudeamus igitur. The song freaked me out and I could not believe that we’re happy to end the school year and that we’re supposed to sing “nos habebit humus”. After we had nothing else to study, Milanka and I went on a long bicycle ride and she had this amazing racing bicycle and I had my bad one which was doomed from the day one. One of my tyres went flat and I had no spare tyre. Then it started raining. There was a thunderstorm. I made an angry remark that we should have gone cycling on Sunday, because it was sunny.

Not all the aspects of that Sunday were sunny. But even when it wasn’t sunny, the sun was about to shine and it was about to chase all the dark, hopeless clouds and shine for many years to come. And it still is shining, sometimes more, sometimes less bright. And even though I often see minor clouds in the background every now and then during the recent couple of years (an important note: some people deny the existance of those dark clouds no matter how clear the evidence is); they’re not too heavy and not too dark and I have found a way to erase them from my vision, or at least make them semi-transparent. And they aren’t preventing the sun from shining. And that sun has been shining constantly ever since the ice-age was over.

And it was over on that particular Sunday.

I will always be tottering somewhere in the back, in the shadows, almost invisible - on a bicycle with one bad tyre, wearing just one shoe, trying to catch up, falling down in the mud, suffering from unexplainable sadness every now and then, getting straight into a brick wall and breaking it with my head. Everyone else will be riding around in limos, using the posh brand of computers, getting from here and there, everyone else will be loud. I will never even open my mouth. Someone has to be quiet and ride a bicycle in the summer thunderstorm.

…is back.

Happy June and happy birthday to my dear friend, Mira!
I had enormous computer and work problems during May and I am aware of thirty commenting cycles that I need to fullfill and I’m asking for everyone’s understanding. I’ll return both that and the other comments; I’ll check out friends’ blogs and write about Eurovision because I know some people can’t wait to hear if I had a good time at the event.

But first things first, I need to complete stuff for work.

Later and thanks:)

What Kind Of A F**kery Are You?

Thank you, dear Melanie, for reminding me that I should write. The other thing that reminded me that I have my own personal corner of cyberworld to rant on was the email about donations and ad deals on Despair.nu. I’d so love to help them out, but I don’t have a credit card and, even if I did, we don’t have Paypal in Serbia. So, the only thing I can do is bold the letters and tell those who can to go and help Despair.nu out!

Also, thank you, wonderful Fruityoaty for nudging me yet again. If I ever get to see you, you’ll get a Bonžita, the best fruit and oat bar ever.

Well, one can guess I’ve been very very busy lately. I still need to reply to a bunch of mails, comments, look at people’s work and take care of my online stuff a bit.

Anyway, June 2007 was a hell of a month, so was the first half of July. I simply had no way to keep up with everything. It started with my bosses getting us to work on some stuff that would present our company better at the EXIT festival. At some moment, everyone forgot about me, so I didn’t get to go there and be present at all. It’s not like I wanted to go, but…this thing confuses me.

Somewhere at the beginning of the month, my dad’s old car was stolen. Police found it a couple of days later…but…but…in an unbelievable place. See what I’m talking about? That suuure got me slightly…confused. I asked myself the typical Why me? question. Seriously, out of all the people, why did such a bizzare thing happen to us?

The other why me moment came at the end of the month. Unluckily, yes, it happened at the festival where Red Hot Chili Peppers were the headlining band. It was something I was waiting for so long: to see them play here in Serbia. And I went through hell that day. We all did. And we ended up front, everything started out good…and then poor dear John started feeling ill and the show was cut for two songs, two jams and most likely one drum jam as well. Then a thunderstorm started and it turned into a complete hell.

Ironically, this Saturday, I took my mom to see the Rolling Stones and everything was flawless, perfect. As if the above was not meant to be.

I’m looking around people’s galleries on dA and websites; I see how people actually have the time to create something and improve, while I’m sort of…standing in one place at the moment. Let’s hope that it will change and that I’ll have some time to create in near future.

Links for you to check:
The video of GOATS I promised ages ago
Photos from Green Fest…OK, mostly of John
Media from Green Fest…yes, mostly John again
Photos from the Rolling Stones’ concert

Off I go to work on my OVERDUE job assignments, reply to four hundred emails, update all of my online things, clean my room and…god, it’s a long list, only thinking of it makes me sick.

In a multidimensional scheme, you know what I mean

First of all, thanks to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. Thanks to people who were with me on that day. Thanks to everyone I know who’d wished it to me much later, even those who have forgotten it.

It’s wintermarch, at least for a couple of more days. March in winter, a winter in March. I feel like writing some poetry. I kissed a billboard on a tram station yesterday. I certainly know everything, but I have a slight feeling that I don’t know anything, absolutely anything. My state of mind at the moment appears to be rather strange, just like my newly-installed Windows on a reformatted HD, I will leave that for some other occasion.

For now, I shall leave you with this billboard: