Crazy summer of 2011

Yes. It's been a while. The fact is all my friends are grown-ups now. And so am I. Does it mean the end of our crazy adventures, summer flings, fast track boyfriends, easy girlfriends? Is it from now on all to expect a maternal call from within to fulfill one more task? Baby crying, diaper changing, early mornings, dull eyes, duller skin, flat shoes and sweatshirts? No drinks, no early hour shame walks? It feels odd to believe so. So, I tripped and fell, rolling down the memory lane... The time not so long ago that felt like being 16 again.

Hot summer days can literally boil your brain. This is proven by the story that happened somewhere in some city with some certain crowd of people that somehow got lost after that summer night. Drinking from the bottle with different connotation. Terrace in the middle of the week where drinks were proposed and none rejected. Wine, strong, stronger... Talks, laughs, hidden smiles, flirtations, first kisses and blackouts. It went on well in the night, flying high and falling deep. The next morning. When alarm clock went off at 6 am. Not knowing their names, their location. Vehicle left on some parking, grabbing a cab and trying to look normal in the office. The hardest working day whatsoever. Stomach had made serious acrobatic flip overs umpteen times until the clock stroke noon. Lunch. At last. Smell in the cafeteria brings back hot memories lingering from last night. Who with whom? Some couples were made, some unmade. What's done is done. Now is time to recover or try to recover what can be recovered. It will take a while, at least for pride to regain its former status. To return to daily routine, forget what needs to be forgotten and keep those precious one-on-one moments.

We don't really talk about that certain terrace night. There were so many embarasing, cheerful, funky, sexy, moving and rememberable moments that only one special look can grasp. We glance at each other... And smile. 

Woman. Period. How to handle? (part III)

Mastering nuclear physics - check. Flying a jet plane - check. Handling woman with period - what? That is achievable? With no superpowers?

Yes, we have heard plenty of jokes about handling women in comparison to men. About all the buttons we posses and men only one (I dare you to guess). Mission can become really impossible if woman is in that time of the month (perhaps some comment, Tom Cruise? Climbing that rock isn't so difficult after all, right?). However, there is simple logic behind it and if you follow some ready to use algorithms, those bloody days can pass by with an easy. Or at least easier.

Allow me to explain...

Our breasts can grow up to a one cup size and if you are able to button up your shirt and breath normally, than you're a winner. Men might find swollen breasts one of the nicest benefits of cycle, yet we are not so happy about it. It is painful. Please, do not in any circumstances touch our nipples. And pretty please, do not pretend you are turning on the music trying to rotate them around. Avoiding these gestures can save a lot of harsh words.
As if painful breasts are not enough, water in our body expands over some boundaries. It goes to places we do not want it to be. Such as our thighs and calves (zipping the boots was never so stressful). Stomach grows. Just over night. As if you were in 5th month of pregnancy. Yes, we can feel fat. You might not see the change, but trust me, it is there.

Putting physical changes aside leaves us with mood swings. Oh the joy. Looking at a commercial for cereals can be ever so emotional with tears in the end. Some women find everything surrounding them completely annoying, and this includes themselves as well. No discrimination. As bizarre as it may seem, the picture above roughly describes uncontrollable feelings we can neither hide nor manage. We do know we are unbearable, however, some magical force is preventing us to behave in acceptable way.

Sometimes it really feels like we are going to bleed to death, with painful cramps and no friends around, since we scared them off with our irrational habits. Please, bear with us. Keep calm and make some tea. Eventually, we are coming back ;)

xoxo

Harlem Shake

Since it's tremendously popular... My sis & her hubby also made a version of it. Oh, their doggy is camera assistant :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NongjGczQpg

Man's style through woman's eyes

Yesterday evening I was having my regular Friday night drinks with the ladies. For the first time in a long time we talked just a little about sex, to be more precise, about circumcised penises and what equipment suits our needs better (this "penis topic" is an open always ongoing discussion seen somewhere here). Then all of the sudden we came to the yet unknown territory. Males outfits. It's not that we don't have an opinion of our own about it (yes, women have an opinion about basically everything, even the stuff we are completely clueless), it's just that we haven't been taking about it. Since a friend went out on date with a guy that completely suits all of the descriptions below, we need to address the matter asap. And from what we discovered, this hidden but very public subject should be approached more frequently.

Let me begin from the bottom...

Shoes

Any kind of hiking, trekking option is a total no-no, unless you are (obviously) hiking somewhere in the nature and everyone around you is dressed in the same way. Which is completely appropriate, even desired. 
Crocs are instant deal breaker. I am very strict about this particular piece of horror. If it was up to me, I would force people with Crocs pay some sort of penalties, although they are being worn just around the house for gardening section. No. No. No.

Trousers, jeans, pants

First and probably most important is the length. Pants are not supposed to dance freely around your ankles. Ankle length is allowed with skinny tight pants (you know, the version seen mostly on hipsters), and even in this case they cannot move around the ankle since they completely wrap your legs.
How high? What? How high is you waistline, I mean. Gentlemen, please... If we can actually see your family jewels while standing straight (one ball on each side hanging over a male version of camel toe, or both on one side - I can't really decide which is worse), get rid of these pants. Immediately if not sooner.

Upper body clothing

There is a whole variety of clothing worn as a top, so I am just going to point out the most critical mistakes men make.
Fancy shirt under a sweatshirt. What, you're going clubbing after gym, or straight to the hills after party? I am not really getting this combination, and - as it seems - no woman does.
Sponsored t-shits. You can wear them for cleaning, repairing your car, running, waking your dog, just being at home... but, please, for the sake of our innocent eyes, do not wear them under any circumstances on a Friday night. Thank you!

Ok, these are some basic instructions or, better yet, guidelines to follow. For detailed manual talk to you girlfriend, friend or even mom (that can be critical, so be careful when taking this path).

And remember... 

Fashion fades, only style remains the same.
- Coco Chanel

xoxo

Female facts

Women tend to fantasize on a regular basis in comparison to men. Lack of imagination? Or simply lost of touch with firm grounds? It makes no difference whatsoever. The fact is a fact. And it remains there regardless of reasoning. I came to thinking about this precise subject over some recent happening with the two friends of mine. A he and a she. He was a classic example of him, she was a schoolbook case of her. They have managed to get involved on a level higher than age of innocence, when innocence turned guilty. Guilty as charged. From storybook's point of view this ship was caught in a light breeze which made its progress effortlessly through the sea of love with no visible storm ahead. From 21st century's point of view the breeze was about to become a hurricane. Why is that so, many of you (especially men), might ask. Well, let me explain...

Women, correction, most women are capable of inventing some sort of reality after sleeping with a man. Their reality, that has nothing to do with the actual one, hence my conclusion about fantasizing in a daily routine. After some bedroom activities comes thinking about him. Not just a thought or two here and there, but serious full-time job type. When the burden of self-induced thoughts explodes out of handling proportions, it's time to call in some backup. Less subjective judges, also known as the friends. Since I don't want to be too harsh on women, I'll only mention subtly that those judges are (almost) never less subjective, since the procedure of bringing out conclusions goes through the same wheels in the brain. Analysis of every single detail worthy of a PhD thesis comes into full swing. However, results are vague (as in great part of PhD thesis). To be quite honest, there are still unsolved mysteries about the chicken and the egg, so how can we expect to deciphre man's way of perceiving women? Not by inventing umpteen versions of the same story (with happy ending, of course), I can tell you that.
If we look at the male version of after sex thinking, you shall soon be able to conclude, why there's a breeze turning to a hurricane...

So, men, on the other hand, forget about details. They actually stop thinking about you and go to work. They hang out with their friends not even mentioning your existence. Some of them are dating in between and praying upon other women. They go to gym, they eat and most of all they live. Have you noticed how much shorter this paragraph is? Do you understand? They live. We should think about doing the same instead of spending worthless hours discussing petty details and reviving memories. Go out. Laugh. Smile. Flirt. And most of all... If you want to see him, call him. It's not that he doesn't want to, he is just busy. Doing other things.

The prettiest conclusion is that that hurricane will become a light breeze again, when we realize the simplicity of male functioning. Yes, it is that simple...
Please, grab your phones, log in to chat, do your thing. And enjoy.


xoxo

How to handle women part II

In the cold winter days I tend to have plenty of tea, coffee and everything liquid, that can warm you up. Since I am pretty talkative I like to do it in company. Friendly company. So, I sat down with sort of a friend of mine. Sort of, because we see each other so rarely, however, we have managed to bare with our atypical relationship for years. She mentioned something has happened to her and she needed someone to talk to, hence the tea time in the city centre.

Recently she has been thinking about sleeping with her long time friend. She knew him for years, fancied him even longer and that was that. The feeling turned out to be mutual, yet they have remained just friends. Until very recently. The passion went through the roof and there was no way to resist the inevitable... I almost didn't dare to ask how was it. Almost. Her expression made me think in was Amazing with a capital A. Her nod confirmed it. So, what went wrong that a drink with me was in total need...? He didn't call, didn't text.
Oh...! I forgot to mention. She has someone. A boyfriend. A boyfriend that's not her longtime friend she was banging. But that doesn't change the post-sex protocol, that every man should know. No matter if you're rolling in the hay with married, single or just boyfriend-ized woman.

Lesson no. 1

Check how she is. Especially if she has a boyfriend and you have known her since you were practically kids. She will need support. She has just done a horrible thing (the cheating part, I mean) and she has poor sleep quality, let alone quantity. Just send the f*** message. Take her to a coffee. I believe there are not many people she can talk about this precise night. Yes? Yes.
That goes also for single women. Just let her know you are thinking about her. Unless it was a one-night stand and you don't even know her name. Or she doesn't know yours. And you don't have each other's numbers. Emails. Whatever.

Lesson no. 2

From what I heard, if the sex is amazing, you will probably try to repeat the deed regardless the immoral taste it left behind. If the feeling was mutual, you should let her know. And plan ahead. The kinky part. 
If the feeling wasn't mutual... Well, that's where you start ignoring her. And that can have consequences on the friendship. At least for a while. Mending it is difficult and time consuming. However, possible.


After re-reading these paragraphs, I have realized I am pretty immoral. No lectures about being a cheating girlfriend, no sermon, no nothing. Well, I am not the one to judge. We will have to leave that for other occasions.

xoxo

Necessity of sharing...

My very dear friend moved to LA some time ago and she is facing "funny" questions all the time, especially about her home country Slovenia. So, I decided to post her response to all the "smart" questions...

I am from SLOVENIA, THAT IS IN EUROPE.

NO, it's not next to Russia.
NO, Europe is not a country.
NO, there is not such thing as "European language".
NO, it's not always cold.
NO, you won't see a bear walking around the house.
YES, we do ALL travel around the world.
YES, we do have cars. 
YES, we do have TV and COMPUTERS (even Macs and stuff).
NO, we don't have so fat people as you have it here.
YES, we do have our own president.
NO, we don't have states.
YES, we do have McDonald's, we just choose not to eat in it 5 times a day.
YES, we do look good every day.
YES, we do expect a man to be a gentleman.
YES, our accent is hot.
NO, we are not playing hard to get we ARE hard to get.
NO, there is no war. 
YES, we celebrate Christmas.
YES, we know everything.
YES, we speak 5 languages.
YES, we are different and amazing ;))

And some additional info here. Check the map, please!

Enjoy. 

xoxo

2013

New year always begins with some kind of promises, resolutions and anything that fits in that group. I have managed to notice that many of you decided to "put to sleep" your Facebook profile. I haven't decided yet if that's fine with me, since some of my fans disappeared over night...

Regardless, in 2013 I wish you childlike directness, unforgettable sleepless nights and lots of Nutella. Because all good things come in three...

The night my mobile phone should've stayed in

Do you know that feeling when you open your eyes in the "morning" (after noon) and the room is still feverishly moving around you? Yes? Everybody does.
Do you know that feeling when you open your eyes in the "morning" (before noon, because your hangover is disturbing your sleep) and the room is still feverishly dancing around you and you suddenly receive flashbacks of the night before? Yes? How about that...
Do you know that feeling when you open your eyes in the "morning" (eh, it is not important anymore) and the room is still feverishly dancing around you and you suddenly restore some parts of your lost memory and you are rapidly sobered up by text messages? No, you are not popular. The phone is not ringing. You made someone else popular last night with shameful, tasteless and uncensored texting that spoke your mind exactly as it was. The cruel reality...

Walking with a bag on you head for a month...

Let's say you fancy someone. Polite flirting, phone number exchange... everything went according to a plan secretly stored and locked in your head. You are alpha and omega of making your crush like you. So, why isn't he writing more often? What in the name of Eros happened? Is my plan outdated? Why hasn't he invited me to a coffee yet? It seems you are getting lost in the labyrinth of you hectic thoughts, however, to your own luck, your sober sanity is still there. You are playing hard to get, hell - you invented the game - and have no intention of texting whatsoever. Even though your mind plays tricks on you and from time to time your concentration drops, you still manage to get by and do all the work. You're the man (metaphorically speaking). By the evening he is long forgotten.
Because of all the hard thinking and other work you've done, now's the time to relax and revitalize with your friends. Just a quick refined drink and you're off. Back home preparing for yet another successful working day. However, this elegant evening got interrupted somewhere between third and fourth drink, when you already made peace with yourself about just being spontaneous. And speaking of it... how harmful could it be to write one short text message? Please. You are an adult perfectly capable of restraining yourself, right? Wrong. This civilized behavior turned into a texting contest - mostly to yourself - and by the time you've realized that no one hasn't replied for a while, you could not care less. That is, until the next morning. When the last of the scenarios above projected in your head. Not checking what you wrote last night, would have been the smartest thing to do, nevertheless, your curiosity have won. Wow. The extent of perversion to which a human mind can go. Wow. Amazing. Marquis de Sade would have been proud. All in all you cannot seem to decide why wasn't he replying anymore - perhaps he was masturbating all along and fell asleep in the middle, or his pure mind was completely destroyed by your filthy talk and he had to purify himself again by physical punishment? Or, and this is something you dislike, he is just not that into you?
Whatever the answer might be, you feel shame run through your body like electricity. Well, what's done is done. Next time... there will be no next time, because:

...or simply leaving your mobile at home?

xoxo

A dangerous method of mulled wine

December brought first snow, holiday lightning and - our favorite - mulled wine. Freezing temperatures, light rain, fog and demonstrations against our government couldn't have stopped us from having our one, two, three cups of mulled wine. The company was sublime, as I have managed to gather (almost) all of my favorite people.
I really can't handle my drink, even if it comes in the form of cooked and half evaporated alcohol (perhaps something to do with the fact that my last meal was about 6 hours prior to my first and not last cup of mulled wine). Since almost every man in my presence had the need to pay for at least one round, I was hugging, loving and generally so excited about my friends by the early evening. Well, at least I am "fond of people", not "drama queen" type while being a bit intoxicated. 

A good friend of mine was also present and she has just acquainted me with her new male friend. She was in a right mood to confess they have been having wild sex for a while. And she couldn't get enough of it (the sex and the man).
We kept chitchatting, accompanied with mulled wine without exception. At one point I had to stop drinking, my limit has been crossed a while ago, or better yet, I couldn't see the limit line for quite a while. In this moment - more aware of surrounding people, I have noticed something else had stopped as well. Being around. My friend was gone and so was her friend...

No limits

As she suddenly reappeared, I have noticed a strange glow on her face. To a professional eye this glow looked as one thing and one thing only. They've just been doing it. I wanted details. I needed details.
In the old town there are very tiny alleys and even if the centre is crowded, you can still get away to a secret spot and have some privacy (or so we hope). They found such a place, suitable for some canoodling and a bit more. Pants down, legs up - you know the routine... As she was explaining where, how and more importantly how long, all I could think was: Honey, if can get it up after so much wine and perform in such a freezing temperatures... Then, he's a keeper.

Cheers to that!

xoxo

P.S. As for me... I left my car downtown and took a cab. It was a stressful day ;)

A quick guide or how to handle women

Recently I had a very pleasant drink with my ex-schoolmate. Not only is he incredible good-looking, he is also smart and fun to talk to (yes, I hope he reads this). Every now and then we grab a drink together and talk about, well, everything.
As the chitchat went on on this particular evening, the subject shifted to another level... Relationships, former, ongoing, men, women, sex and women again. More precisely what women want and why men can't understand them. This has been already discussed several times, mostly in books (Men are from Mars, women are from Venus has some good points, though), movies, TV shows... And no one seems to know the solution to the equation. 
Now, back to the story... I must admit, I felt kind of special, because he has chosen me to talk to about that and even more special because he needed an advice. There was something in it for me, too... I got  my blog idea (he agreed I can use it) :)

We talked about handling women. About having a guide to women's unexplainable behavior that no one can understand, even women occasionally (please, refer to the picture on the left... it might explain a lot).

Why are we interested in a guy, and than suddenly not anymore? I was thinking about it a lot... Women fall for another interesting man in short time, I guess, nevertheless, it seems men are pretty much the same regarding that. 
When women feel up to it, just grab a chance. It might disappear quickly, as we tend to change our minds frequently (just look at our hair, nails, style... hey, even the last name, though that's a bit trickier lately).

I find it difficult to speak for whole gender in general. From my experience and umpteen hours of conversing with ladies, I can summarize it with this: be bold. No, not bald, that's not very appealing, although with age it seems that's not a deal breaker anymore. Why not taking risks? The worse thing that can happen is a no. And no is already there from the beginning. If you don't approach is a no, since there was no chance to become a yes. How many time have we received no in life? How many are yet to come? No one's ever lost life because of a rejection (ok, I can think of silly examples, but that's not the point), just a bit of dignity, and that heals in time eventually.
I am a fan of Katy B, so the easiest thing to do is to listen this song, which in my opinion grasps the basics of what women want. Of course, until there are days like "I don't know".

Good luck and good night.

xoxo

The Gang Bang Theory

It is commonly believed that having sex with more than one person at a time is scandalous. Sure, it can be awkward in some situations (I can't stop thinking about the Borgias. The rumor has it that Rodrigo Lanzol Borgia's (Pope Alexander VI) daughter and son were involved in orgies together with their father, the Pope). Ok, awkward is probably constant follower, especially the day after; however, the feeling is obviously not strong enough to repel, otherwise people wouldn't be doing it for centuries. I have a sense it is sort of like being drunk. You know, talking rubbish, doing shameful deeds... And drinking again, although the moral factor did some damage the next day.
Let's talk some details and recent group activities, before judging...

The parking lot

A schoolmate of mine happened to be very promiscuous in her high school age. That's why it caught me by surprise to hear that she has had a child and is all serious nowadays. Still, it hasn't caught me by surprise to hear about one certain night on a parking lot. There was a threesome. Nothing unusual so far. Disturbing factor is probably the fact, that the person involved was a brother of another schoolmate, who she fancied for years, and some other guy (I have no idea about his background). Well, she used her childless years fruitfully (...interesting choice of words).

After art

Being an artist brings some perks regarding what is or what is not acceptable in life. So, the next story is fine in every aspect. That is if you are an artist.
A gallery opening was held on one warm night in one capital of one country. Plenty of arty and non-arty crowds, food and drinks. After bottles were half empty and the non-arty crowd sat in their cabs to get their drunk asses home, the arty crowd remained. Expecting something more. Who started the little Eyes wide shut game is of no importance (and, I have no idea about that). The reality was that that night couples weren't couples anymore, they became bigger clusters of naked people pretending to be in a movie. Is it necessary to mention that some couples were never couples again after that? Even the artist aren't what they used to be...

Not a real gang bang - but it sure must have felt like it

One acquaintance felt really bored at one point of her life. It was time to mix things up, so she found a very hopping way to do that. Bed hopping, that is. She wasn't actually dating anyone, but she sure made her bed as busy as possible. She was fucking four guys for a long period of time, many times on a same day. They just came in different shifts, as did she.
I remember she had hard times sitting on a coffee, not because her legs were restless, but because her vagina felt as if gone through a war.
I believe she stopped working shifts because she couldn't sit at her office desk normally, not because of any moral barriers. This story is kind of inspiring...

So, to conclude let me summarize: different people, different appetites.

Enjoy

xoxo

Printed chair

Yesterday was raining badly and jogging came out of the question. So, you need to keep yourself busy. This one is pretty easy.



You shall require:

• IKEA chair
• old magazines
• multi-purpose glue
• plastic cup
• piece of sponge
• colorless varnish for boats
• large paintbrush

Disassemble the sitting part. It should come off easily. Prepare the glue: in a plastic cup mix 1/3 water and 2/3 multi-purpose glue. Decide what pattern do you want to have on the sitting part and cut it out from the magazine. You can use whole pages. Cover the chosen pages with glue (use the sponge for that) and place it on the sitting part. Wait until it dries.

The final touch is varnish. Use the paintbrush to spread it over chair.

Voilà!

Pâté vs. vitamin water

My good friend moved to the USA some time ago to explore her possibilities. She is coming to her home town Ljubljana (the capital of Slovenia, for those unaware) every now and then, which usually results in many hours spent together upon her arrival. She told me plenty of stories, mostly hilarious, about vivid American imagination of the "other" part of the World. The World that is not America. Sure, the USA offer variety of opportunities for those who know how to take advantage of them, but let us take a closer look on average people. People that in my opinion represent classic Americans. And, yes, I might be stereotyping, but these stories are very much real.

Firstly, for the sake of introduction, let me tell you a tiny bit about Slovenia... We like to think we belong to the Central Europe (location could be right for that), but truthfully, everyone classifies us as the members of South-Eastern Europe. Nowadays we are forming a part of the EU (since 2004), however, Slovenia used to be Yugoslavia till 1991, and that's mostly connected to the questions about war. A war that actually did not touch us, at least not like the countries where the war really took place. There was one American, a journalist, which kind of makes it even worse, who thought we have mine fields. Mine fields? Google should be used more frequently, that's all I can say. 
Then the electricity. Questions about electricity were raised on many occasions. No, we still live in caves, and I use smoke signals to deliver my thoughts, which are then transformed by good people, still able to read smoke signals, to this blog. Bearing with question if we know who Sienna Miller is, is easy compared to that. Yes, we have TV, internet and gossip columns. 
Anyway, we are one tiny country, with approximately 2 million inhabitants, pretty much like canned metropolis. All in all - and what's the most important message - we have dolce vita you are dreaming about on daily basis. Just to give you the most precise description.

Now, let's return to my friend and her experience. These are more or less connected to the food. Eating habits differ from nation to nation and according to my opinion the Americans have by far the worst habits whatsoever. And food, as the matter of fact. Don't get me started with plastic vegetables, hormone stuffed chicken and one of the best inventions - VITAMIN water. I almost suffocated myself with exaggerated laughter when I heard about that. This is not vitamin water. It's just water with additives. We, Slovenians, like to call it water with taste. Because they add all sort of flavors to it. Artificial sugar mostly. Or the real one in some cases.

Slovenian food on the other hand tastes like real food. Our tomato is red and meaty when you cut it and we have bread to die for. Whole-wheat, buckwheat with walnut, white with olives... should I go on?

So, this friend of mine took lots of customs friendly food from home country with her when traveling across the pond. She ate it on her trips she had made while discovering natural (and built) beauties of the USA. On one special event she was sitting on a boat directed to Alcatraz. She took out her "lunchbox" and started to eat her delicatessen. A canned pâté. One of the most popular and tasteful in Slovenia - Argeta. A woman sitting next to her, very nicely dressed American, was eyeing her constantly with suspicion. When she encouraged herself to pop the question, amazing words came out of her mouth: "Sweety, are you eating cat food?" (Just to let you know, every time I think about that sentence I can't help but laugh.)
Her bite stopped in her throat. "No, this is pâté," she replied. "A what?" the lady went on. Not knowing how to explain and still petrified from shock, she just thought to herself "Lady, you have no idea, what you're missing." Amen to that.
My friend added, that the lady made her feel so embarrassed in front of the others, who obviously thought after the question was raised she must be sort of a freak (or at least homeless person pitied by some zoo employers).

After hearing that story I made myself pâté Argeta sandwich at 10 pm. Celebrating the unique taste, creamy consistency and knowledge about the existence of pâtés.

Bon appétit!

xoxo

How bigamy can be perceived as monogamy or what is bigamous monogamy

After an indulging summer pause, I had a trip down memory lane, eagerly searching for interesting happenings I could write about. It seemed nothing was suitable for sharing. At least from my life. No deviant behavior whatsoever. Hence, no material for blogging. There was a sudden need to dig deeper. Into my friends' lives. Luckily, many of them have stories. Kinky ones. And definitely worth reading about.

We all have heard or even done the two men/women relationship. The parties involved don't know about each other, perhaps you tell a friend or, better yet, wait until it's all over, before you spill it out. Guilty as charged. It's a classic case of bigamy. Old as the human race itself (or at least as old as the invention of airplanes - bigamy always reminds me of pilots. Dunno why).
Lately, however, I've begun to notice a new dating sensation: bigamous monogamy. Confused? Well, allow me to explain...

Shift Relationship

One of my friends has had a boyfriend for years. That is, years, if you don't count all the break-ups in between that could occur even on weekly basis. It was by far the strangest relationship I have ever seen with a certain pattern. It nearly had a life of its own. Sometimes, when these pauses lasted for a longer period, the friend was partying wildly and as a consequence she made a lot of new acquaintances. In time, one special acquaintance resulted in a new found new boyfriend. So far, everything is going according to the standard track, however, make no mistake - she kept returning to her previous man all the time. The second player stood somewhere in the middle, hopping in and out of her life coordinated to her relationship with the first player. 
The most amazing thing in this alterationship (alternative relationship) is the awareness. The second knew about the first all the time, the first learned about the second in time and she... She was conducting this orchestra as if this was the most normal thing to do. How inspiring.
Just to make things clear, let me repeat. When she broke up with the first, she was dating the second, and when the things with the first cooled down, she switched back to him and turned off the second. I hope it is self-evident than none of the boys were aloud to have other women. When they did (this is self-evident, too, I hope), she put on a crazy woman attitude, screamed, dramatized, cried, fought and swapped between them constantly.

This codependent, coexisting bigamous monogamy is lasting for years now. Nothing has changed, apart from their age. Maturity is still in question, to be honest, for all people involved.

If it were up to me, I'd chosen the second one. It would take years to explain why, so I guess, you'll just have to trust me on this one.

xoxo

Pear Risotto With Gorgonzola

Idea for this delicious meal appeared in 2006, when I had the chance to taste the Pear Risotto in a tiny porterhouse in Pavia, Italy. That same little restaurant seems not to be operating nowadays (unless I have forgotten its whereabouts, and therefore missed it, while trying to visit it again in 2010), however, the memory of their food reminisces in my mind regularly.

This recipe is eclectic collection of several recipes I have found on internet and modified them according to my taste buds. I hope you are going to enjoy as much as I did on that specific day in Pavia.

Ingredients: 
serves 2 persons

• 3/4 cup of arborio rice (it goes well also with whole grain, as long as it's short and rounded)
• vegetable stock (instant soup in cube is perfect) 
• small onion (I have tried also without onion, and I liked it even more)
• olive oil
• 1 cup of white wine
• 1 very small bunch of freshly chopped parsley
• 2-3 pears
• 50 g gorgonzola cheese
• allspice (I love to decorate it with allspice, and the sweet smell goes perfectly with pears and gorgonzola)

To cook the rise, you will have to prepare the stock from instant soup. Have in mind, that you will need about 3-4 times the volume of stock to cook the rice, however, be prepared to add some more, if needed. The volume normally depends on rice type - if it is whole grain, the cooking takes longer. When the soup/stock is ready, keep it warm aside.

Chop the onion finely and soften it in a pan with some olive oil. Now, add the rice and stir it for a minute. Continue by adding the stock and parsley. Cook the rice on a low heat as indicated on the label.

In the meantime peel the pears and chop them on cubes. Not too small, though. Set one third aside. Prepare gorgonzola also by chopping it on cubes.

Around ten minutes before rice is cooked, add white wine and two thirds of peeled pears. When almost the whole liquid (stock and wine combination) has evaporated, add gorgonzola and the rest of the pears. To serve use big plates and decorate with allspice.

Bon appetite!

New season...

...columns coming soon.

primetime 04/09/2012

Ferragosto

Yes, I've been on my vacations... Now, I'm back to reality ;)

Dick ride

Every time when I think about my drained idea resources, my dear friends provide me with yet another story worth sharing. Again, such evening occurred yesterday and I still feel thrilled to have taken part in last night’s drink. To cut to the chase, there was much talking about penises and bicycle rides. You can’t seem to find any connection? Try harder...

A gorgeous friend of mine (yes, yes, tall, blond, long slim legs...) lives on the outskirts of Ljubljana. To go to work she frequently uses bike (perhaps this is the reason for her exquisite legs?). Nothing very unusual so far. It seems we need to go farther, so let’s do it.

Did you enjoy the ride?

Relaxing afterwork ride home can become a race in an instant, whether you are prepared for it or not. Coming closer to her house, there was on the pavement, sitting on a bike and embracing a traffic light, a slightly drunk person. To be quite honest and sticking to a facts in the story, it is fair to say that there was a very drunk man hugging the pillar. She passed him by with great caution as it seemed he might fall any minute now. However, his ability to sit upright so drunk on a bike triggered a pure amazement.

After a few minutes heavy breathing and undefined other sounds were coming from behind her back. She ignored it al long as she could, but as women are curious by nature, she had to turn and look eventually. Done so, she established that the sight was not so magnificent. The drunken dude was following her and - horror of all horrors - masturbating while literally chasing her. She pushed a little harder, her pedals rotating briskly. The drunken dude was still following her. How’s that possible? He was barely able to stand straight, but now he was performing his very own version of Tour de France. Luckily she was in shape and she could have gone like this for long, but there were some red lights involved (the traffic light - don’t get nasty-minded), so she had to stop. As she looked at him, she gave him the “come on!” look and said: Oh, come on! Could you just go away, please? His reply was perhaps somewhat different from expected: Just a little now... little... rghhhh arghh. Ahhhh... That was it. He had concluded his street art performance. However, Mr. Dick van Ride remained polite and even thanked her in the end.

Well, at least he had manners.

This got me to thinking... Is there any law that defines the highest allowed speed while masturbating? You know, something like Ministry of Health advises: don’t drive and masturbate. No need to speed under those circumstances.

Perhaps something to think about. They are discussing about useless laws all the time, anyway...

xoxo

My way on the highway

The summer’s evidently started. Empty office desks, bars crowded in the evenings and roads fully packed with transitory or visiting tourists. As for me... I am still waiting for my dose of vacation pills. Not for long, though. In between scary-hilarious things shall and will occur. Like this one I am about to tell...

On my working day on the way from place A to place B, which takes about an hour, I had stopped for some coffee at a gas station. 

A major part of Slovenian gas stations has great sweetish tasting coffee from vending machines. If you’re reading this and would like to taste it, gas stations are called Petrol with red billboards all over. 

Anyway, on my way to caffeine injection, while holding a briefcase in my hands (this is very important), I had heard someone yelling after me. Noting specific, just hey hey! At first I hadn’t been sure, I am the person yelled at, so when the voice had come closer and hadn’t stopped, I had turned around. A young man, dressed like he was heading to the beach (obviously, you’ll understand that later) had been talking to me.

Me: Yes?

Him: Are you going to the beach? (you do see now the connection, don’t you?)

Me: No. 

A briefcase is according to my imagination a visible sign a person is not going to the beach, but what do I know.

Him: Aha. Ok. Just asking.

Me: Sure. No problem.

Let me mention, that place B I was about to visit due to a meeting, was on the seaside. Hence the briefcase on the way to the shore.

I had sat in my car and continued my working journey toward the beach with my coffee (and Twix, as the matter of fact).

...

...

Coffee gone.

...

...

Twix gone.

Soon after that I couldn’t help but notice that a silver BMW was constantly following me. As  it wanted to pass me by, my eyes caught the guy. That same guy from the gas station. Ok. Even more, while trying to overtake me (emphasis on “trying” - he did not try to do that, as the matter of fact), he just drove parallel with me. On a highway. For quite some time. WTF?!?!? Does my appearance scream The fast and the furious fan? Most certainly not.

I had remained calm, not looking at him, but just driving in my direction, constantly battling against myself not to show him the middle finger. Is this normal nowadays? Picking up a girl on a highway while almost flying on the road? 

No, I wasn’t really speeding. Yet. Until repetition occurred. He had started driving really slowly, I overtook him, then he tried to do the same. That happened a few times. Then I had had it. 

Speed! 

More speed!

Even more speed!

I had lost him before a tunnel... Story ended here.

Is there a lesson in it? Not really sure about it. I am kinda lucky not to get a speeding ticket. I seriously doubt they would be convinced by a stalker story. 

There are some details missing, such as my manicure performed in the car, because I wanted to look as stupid as possible - I thought he might give up on me. No. It didn’t work. Now he’s probably telling a story about a mad women doing her nails while driving. It’s fine by me...

xoxo