The Maggot

I am pretty sure that you have got some indigestion after looking at this meat for half a year…  Maybe is time to taste some lemon for a change

Some incredible thing happen to me recently, and since I can not keep my mouth shut and a shrink is quite expensive – I decided to write about it…

Making it short – while being with my mother in a public place, I have received a coffee invitation from a respectable person for the next day. In my credulity I was thinking that the man needs some help in some area, or he is looking for some cooperation or God knows what – and to tell you the truth, I didn’t dare to ask about the subject of the meeting, because I assumed that it might be confidential – if he didn’t discuss it in front of everybody - right? Did I mentioned that he was a respectable man?

I left my home–sweet-home on Sunday morning; I drove 50km in the heat, enjoying the flue that my daughter brought as a present from France; but nevertheless I felt good, because I was about to help someone in need.

I met the guy and we started with a small talk about life, Finland, Romanian, our spouses, our children, so on – while in the middle of my speech about the level of renovation of my house and how much my husband is working daily – he leant on me, touched my hair and said: “I didn’t know that you are such a dynamic woman”. All my assumptions of innocence were evaporated in a second, so, I took my jacket and left the building.

I am still astonished about what happened and what have I done wrong. I have dressed myself decently, in jeans, runners and buttoned up till my mouth – I have talked about my husband widely, I had all my rings on my finger (as well as he), I was equilibrated and I have a certain life experience considering at my age, so I was not sending any mixed signals… So?

What was in the idiot head? There was no secret service around – so he was not any important figure of the world. There was no helicopter involved – so he was not incredible rich. His speech was lacking any deep philosophy – was more at the level of a bored house wife, talking about his daughter sex life ?!?. He was not an author of any master piece in art, music or anything. He was not “Chippendale” stripper type and neither young anymore, his look asking more for medical help than promising any “unforgettable wild adventure”. So, how a mediocre clerk like this, can even imagine that a women, while she is talking with great admiration about her husband, might be interested to give up everything, for a cup of coffee and his overblown ego? I am still astonished and hurt by this lack of respect for me, for my family and for the fact that instead of cutting the grass in my yard I was wasted my time with a maggot.

Lost in the kitchen

Azi am facut mancare. In general nu fac, fiindca El, pe langa faptul ca e specialist, mai e si pasionat, iar eu nu ma pun cu specialistii… Insa am avut o vizita importanta, nu spun cine ca e secret. Aveam cumparate de El fel de fel de chestii cu fel de fel de nume – toate pe undeva prin casa. Il sun si-l intreb, ce trebuie sa fac eu de mancare acum ca vine – nu spun cine? La care El imi da o reteta complicata cu kurkuma, si curry si dupa ce prajesti 30 de secunde le bagi la cuptor 3 ore. Waw treo ore. N-am scris nimic, ma gandeam ca retin tot, insa dupa ce-am auzit de cele 3 ore am avut un memory crash… cand mi-am revenit am dat restart si am sunat din nou: asa nu se poate, ce pot face in 10 minute? (ca doar n-oi sta 3 ore langa cuptor sa execut cele 30 de faze preagatitoare?) El, calm, (nu stiu de unde ia calmul asta, ca l-as cumpara si eu la kg: 3kg de calm, va rog) imi spune, pentru azi vrei sa faci mancare? Ok, ia sosul ala din borcanul care arata asa (stie ca-mi trebuie date exacte, diametru, inaltime, densitatea compozitiei, culoare si titlu, mi le-a dat pe toate…) pune-l in tigaia aia care nu se spala cu dero (stiati ca exista tigai pe care le speli cu dero, dar nu cu somoiogul, si tigai pe care le speli cu somoiogiul dar nu cu dero? nu-l cunoasteti pe somoiog? sau pe dero? ) pui apa la fiert si pastele in ea si gata. Mi s-a parut chiar simpla reteta data. Numai ca tigaia mea, fara dero, a inceput sa ma stropeasca intr-o disperare si nu i-am gasit capacul aferent – cred ca nu exista… iar musafirii au intarziat si pe deasupra trebuia sa pun parmezan care de gasit l-am gasit, ca n-am asa mare frigiderul, insa chestia aia de ras cred ca exista numai in varinta manuala, si habar n-am unde e… De-aia scriu pe blog, poate stiti voi…

Faza

Merg ieri la alimentara, pentru ca tot trebuia sa ies din casa sa-mi iau ceva de facut. Si nu merg singura, ca-s sontoroaga zilele astea, asa ca-l iau pe El cu mine. Nu-mi iau geanta, ca v-am spus ca-s ranita-n razboaie si nu-s in stare sa car nimic, asa ca ii dau lui portofelul meu in care aveam cardul de inchiriat filme (ca asta era de fapt scopul, sa-mi iau un film, 2,3). Ajung la casa, la alimentara, El merge sa impacheteze si imi da mie portofelul sa platesc. Eu ii dau cardurile caseritei (de banca si de client fidel), la care ea imi spune, nu poti semna tu, daca este cardul lui. Complet bulversata, ma gandesc ca a nimerit cardul lui in portofelul meu (se mai intampla) si ma uit la ce nume scrie pe carduri – erau ale mele. Caserita, straina, eu straina, ea cu finlandeza ei, eu cu a mea. Imi scot permisul de conducere cu poza pe el si repet: sunt cardurile mele. La care tipa imi spune, ca intrucat portofelul meu era la El a subinteles ca este al Lui. Am zambit si i-am raspuns in gand: El imi tine toti banii, ce sa fac?

Trecu si Pastele asta…

Poate nu ma credeti, de aceea am pus aici DOVADA: am facut cozonac, rotund, pentru ca formele de cozonac paralelipipedic mi-au fost furate din casa de monstrul care-mi piteste lucrurile… Initial am vrut sa fac doar din jumatate de kilogram de faina, insa a fost imposibil pentru ca maiaua lui Pure era pentru 3 kg, asa ca am ramas fara lapte – pus tot in maia, am cumparat altul (lapte), apoi am urmat reteta amestecand toate cantitatile aleator pana a iesit ceea ce vedeti – nu foarte dulce insa.

M-am spalat cu ou rosu, argint si aur – puse intr-o cana cu apa: ASA.

Am decorat-o pe Lea cu o funda galbena, ca de, e Paste – insa cum ei ii place rosul, mi-a furat cizmele primite cadou si poza in “Motanul incaltat”.

Am vospit ouale cu vopsea alimentara Roberts luata din farmacie (nici o aluzie la ruda mea cu aceeasi nume care ma ignora) si precum vedeti mi-a crescut suficient si iarba (nu va ganditi la prostii) in care-mi alearga puii de gaina. Am fost vrednica, recunoasteti! N-o sa se mai intample curand… Promit!