Once, when I was browsing through the books in Konzorcij again, I stumbled upon one that said: “You know you’re a child of the 60’s when…”. It was a fun thing to read, even if I am more of a 90’s child. :) One of the book’s best lines was: “The answer used to be blowing in the wind, not 42.”

I just wanted to share. XD

There’s a Vlado Kreslin song that has been waking me up for a few months now. It’s titled “Z Goričkega v Piran” - From Goričko to Piran. I think I love it as much as I do because the lyrics are comforting. They remind me of the summer. It’s not the summer with the heat and discomfort that I miss, just the freedom. Heh… and train trips. I’m not sure why I like trains, probably ’cause of the romantic image that Blues and Country created. One of my favourite memories of this summer is a train trip to Piran that Biks and I took. She wrote about it on her blog (here and here), you should read it, if you speak Slovene. She’s got a great style of writing.

There’s a saying on my wall that tells me the only easy day was yesterday. I hate waking up with the awareness, that in a few hours I’ll be grumpy and in need for an aspirin… And that there’s nothing I can do about it.

I hate having a beautiful, elaborate poem explained to me in a way, that expects me to be either stupid or 5 years old. I hate it even more when the interpretation, that I have to listen to, is superficial or just pure bullshit nonsense. I hate having to sit through 45 minutes of random things, that have nothing to do with the subject.

I hate feeling threatened by vulgar comments and innuendos. I hate feeling having my privacy/personal space violated by sexually suggestive talk, that I am expected to put up with.

I hate being told I am incompetent, irresponsible, lazy, stupid, immature, inappropriate, unprepared, rude, disrespectful and ought to be in either the kindergarten or ZUIM (Centre for education and rehabilitation of physically handicapped youth) across the street, by a teacher who is usually late, rarely prepared, never does what she says she will, is always disrespectful and actually came to class totally wasted on an occasion.

I hate hypocrisy. I hate being preached about responsibility by someone who feels they are above it.

One of my favourite quotes, and one I remember most often, is from The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde.

“I represent to you all the sins you have never had the courage to commit.”

He is one of my favourite authors, discovered either thanks to Lastie or one of my old classmates, I can’t say for sure. I love how he makes complicated things simple, and seemingly simple things complicated. I love the, either over-experienced or absolutely naive, characters with which you often don’t know if they’re being serious or not, but it makes you laugh to tears either way.

“To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”

Peculiar and very amusing characters.

It seems that quoting Oscar Wilde became such a popular pass-time that Uncyclopedia even made a sport out of it. According to them, he is a member of the Holy Trinity, sharing the pedestal with Cthulhu and Chuck Norris. [x] If they’d be the ones ruling, heaven would be much more fun. But I wonder who’d win if Chuck Norris and Oscar Wilde ever decided to compete at something.

About Responsibility:

To my cousin:

“We can’t expect you to be responsible, you’re too young, Vika’s too lazy and Rifl’s Rifl.”

About Raising Children:

“They have to be worn in, like newly bought Doc Martens.”

“You need to have a guy for 5 years to practice for motherhood, so that when you get a kid, you don’t kill it. Guys are kids.”

About Speed:

Technically, about me.

“It always takes her a lifetime to do something, but when House is on, she’s in front of the TV in a matter of seconds.”

About Slovenia’s Charm:

Well, about Korpiklaani being here 3 times in a year.

“Hehehe, no groupies like the Slovene ones, I guess.”

And a private funny one.

Rifl: “To je pol geotrikotnika!” ["That's half a ruler!"]

The best thing since digital watches. I just found the most amazing, awesomestestest, wonderfully spectacular thing confirmed! My cousin called me a few days ago, while I was in Zagreb, but I didn’t quite believe her, like I didn’t believe her Maiden were really coming… But this is just… Geez…

Ensiferum, Eluveitie and Tyr are having a joined tour. In Europe, the already 3 awesomestestest bands after Blind Guardian, are going to be joined by Moonsorrow and Korpiklaani. I mean, come on!!! What *is* that? Making fun of me? 5 amazing bands on one concert, tent not required AND! I’ve never seen Moonsorrow and Tyr! Ensiferum twice, Eluveitie once and Korpiklaani… Uhm… Lots.

Of course I’m going. D0ch.

Iiiiii… Can’t wait. :D

Teachers, or professors, as they prefer to be called, are odd creatures. Most aren’t very good at their job, or they wouldn’t be if they tried to do it. In the morning, when I wake up and look at the day’s timetable, my mental list goes something like: Boring, Drunk, Ouch, Philosophy, Ugh. Only classes with proper teachers get their proper names. The Ugh had a proper name until recently. I miss Biology, we had a wonderful teacher, I loved it, even though I sucked at it so bad it stopped being funny.

Either way, History, a class with a proper name, was fun a few days ago. That doesn’t happen often nowadays, because we’ve already done all my favourite topics. Vikings, Middle ages and Renaissance. Now we’re on to the 2nd industrial revolution and WWI. The only things I really enjoy in the WWs are the theory of Nazism and Wagner. It sounds cold to say you enjoy something about the WWs, doesn’t it? I also like the word Birkenau, it has a beautiful sound. Some words just do.

To return back on topic. The history teacher was asking a classmate in front of the blackboard. He wanted to know if the classmate recalls any inventors and their fields of expertise/inventions from the 2nd industrial revolution. Silence. In the end, the teacher gave up and exclaimed: “Professor Baltazar.” My classmate replied: “Chemistry!”

Hihi… :)

And for those, who don’t know who Professor Baltazaar is, a helpful link: [x]

Actually I think he was more of a physicist. I’ll need to find a Baltazar videotape somewhere, I’m feeling nostalgic.

In one of my previous entries I mentioned a movie titled Hedwig and the Angry Inch. It is one of my favourite films and also has one of the best soundtracks. The song, “Origin of Love” takes it’s ideas from Plato’s Symposium. The piece that speaks about Eros, love.

I’m sure you’ve heard it before, the one origin of the story about finding your missing half. People were once supposed to be stuck together with their backs. There were three sexes, male-male, female-female and male-female. The beings started to plot against the gods, so Zeus split them in half. He stitched the wound and that’s where the belly button comes from.

I love Neruda’s poetry. The simplicity is enchanting… He speaks of things we all know, in a way we can all understand. My favourite poem of his is an Ode to a Pair of Socks. The following is the poem I found in one of his books today. I fell in love with it.

— Pablo Neruda [x]

The last few days have all had the same theme. In Slovene class, we read the Psalm by Kajetan Kovič. A poem worshiping the oblivion of animals.

A crude translation, would be cruder if it weren’t for a friend, but no matter. The gift of words turns into a curse. It sounds melodramatic when I put it like that, doesn’t it? It seems that Kovič blames pain on the capacity to think. Nietzsche has a different perspective though, he blames it on the ability to remember. In Untimely Meditations II: On the Use and Abuse of History for Life, he says:

I’m sure almost everybody knows the feeling. Wishing to be stupid and shallow so we wouldn’t be hurt by something. Wishing we could forget. Wishing for anything that could make the pain go away. They say time heals everything… But does it really? If only we could forget all the painful things.

Remember the blue fish from Finding Nemo? I think her name was Doris. When I first saw the cartoon, I wished I could be like her. She seemed eternally happy, occasionally distrusting but mostly cheerful and friendly. A while after that, I saw Memento, the other side of constant forgetting, but I think the misfortune of Memento was that the guy couldn’t forget everything, not the painful things. Animals or Doris, who’s better off?

A long time ago, I spoke about the subject to a friend of mine, about shallowness and so on. She gave me a link to a Klimt painting and asked me if I was willing to trade in the feeling I get when I look at the painting for a temporarily peaceful mind. I didn’t. There’s a limit to everything.

(:p)