26 November 2010

E vineri: plan de facut nimic

In sfarsit e vineri...de parca ar conta pentru mine ce zi e ha ha. Am fost la studio la radio sa mai fac un interviu pentru Duminica si am fost la dentist. Bineinteles ca la dentist iar au inventat chestii ca sa-mi fure bani si avand in vedere ca nu- pot controla n-am avut de ales. Dentista trebuia sa ma fac 'stiti va trebuie o poza la  masea...PAC 50 de euro va rog.' Eh asta e, daca mai pun si cariera asta la socoteala innebunesc. Acum ma gandesc sa intru in reclame, la birou din asta care inventeaza fel si fel de chestii mai stii.

Ma uit afara, e soare dar e friiiiigggggg. As ramane aici inchisa toata ziua si sa mi se aduca pizza in fiecare zi. Spaghete am suficiente in casa asa ca pe alea le fac eu. Si am si filme destule si alea pe care nu le am le fac comanda ca contul nu e pe numele meu asa ca nici macar nu primesc factura ha ha. Si la carti tot asa de pe site le comand si citesc toata ziua...mai bine a apuc sa le citesc pe alea pe care le am acum...cei care ma cunosc cred ca deja au zambetul pe buze. Am un morman de carti si ma stresezi cum le vad ca stau toate la rand asteptand sa fie citite si eu ma cacai o luna la fiecare...dar de cumparat le cumpar numaidecat. De aia am vreo 100 de carti si vreo 5 citite. Muzica am, social pot sta pe net toata ziua si ma conversez cu altii care n-au ce face. Eu zic ca-i frumoasa viata asa...ah stai ca parca lipseste ceva...ah da...BANIII! Pai imi vand un ficat, maine un rinichi, un plaman de parca am nevoie de ele, oricum nu ies pe afara asa ca de ce sa le pastrez?  Si imi vand toata imbracamintea ca nu-mi trebuie si raman in chiloti. Deci sa recapitulam de acum in colo:

Ma gasiti pe canapea, inconjurata de munti de carti, uitandu-ma la filme noi, cu pizza in mana si in chiloti...respirand greu ca mi-am dat un plaman. Imi convine ma duc pe ebay sa-ncep vanzarea.

23 November 2010

Men nowadays are like dogs....

Not in a bad way actually. What I mean is that men changed through the years.

Women have always wanted a lot from men: they have to listen, be handsome, be sweet, romantic but they also have to stand up for themselves, be strong, be manly. I believe the last aspects have changed through the years. I mean in the stone age men were like men-men, hairy, butchy, strong. If they wanted a woman? They just took her by her hair. Then the years passed by but men still kept their butch butch character, they went to hunt, to war, they used swords and armor. They were muscled and cruel. That also changed. Now they're...not as butchy anymore. Back then you knew he was a man: beard, rough, dirty and strong. Now: the hairdo might be taken from a glossy magazine, the clothes are soft and tender, their bodies not so hairy anymore and their characters? Metro men, you ever heard of that? They listen, they go shopping with you, they talk to you about your feelings, his feelings. I mean I know we asked for this but what happened to the real strong men? Women like men to be sweet on one side and on the other side to sometimes ignore them and show them they can protect them. Maybe women want too much? I do miss the real men. And to come back to my title:

Men used to be wolves, wild, strong, savages. Through the years they were changed by different aspects but also by women themselves, now they became...dogs. Some are poodles and some are saint bernards, you name it but they are all dogs now.

Londra ce vis, ce placere

Si asa si este. Am fost in weekend in Londra. Am plecat Joi si ne-am intors Duminica. Am mers cu trenul ceea ce nu trebuia sa facem pentru ca am avut numai dureri de cap. Aveam trei trenuri de schimbat si doua au avut intarziere si asa am ratat trenul pe care trebuia sa-l luam si am asteptat urmatorul. Credeam ca vom ajunge la 13.00 si am ajuns pe la 17.00. Hotelul a fost raspunsul zilei, un pat, baie si dulp, arata gri si daca n-am avut niciodata probleme cu claustrofobia acum era momentul sa am. Prima zi s-a dus dar a doua zi s-a revansat.

Am mers la London Tower care a fost chiar super frumos, multa istorie si multe de vazut. Am vizitat celulele unde erau tinut prizonierii si unde au chiar scris pe pereti, chiar tare sa vezi ca a scris cineva acolo in anii 1500. Am vazut si locul unde a fost decapitata Anne Bolyn si unde a fost ingropata. Am stat de la 10.00 pana pe la 14.00 apoi ne-am prierdut prin oras. O gramada de baruri care de care mai plin si mai frumos. Am gasit si paradisul cartilor la WHSmith unde aveam multe reduceri dar m-am abtinut :) Acum imi pare rau.

Sambata am vrut sa vedem cat mai multe si asa a si fost: am plecat devreme, oricum la un hotel din ala nu vrei sa-ti petreci mai mult timp decat necesar. Patul ziceai ca are bolovane in el si spatele meu era facut praf, dar eh nu aveam timp sa ma plang. Am ajuns la Harrods, si aici chiar pot spune ca am ramas cu gura deschisa, decoratii impresionante, produse super frumoase si super scumpe dar nu ne punea nimeni sa platim ca am intrat in magazin. Am gasit un departament intreg cu...numai imbracaminte de animale, vorbesc serios costumase pentru caini toate masurile, si cam cat costa una? In jur de 86 de lire...nu-i scump deloc nu? Asa dar n-am stat mult pe acolo pentru ca vroiam sa ajungem la Buckingham palace. Acolo am ajuns dar nu m-a impresionat nimic. Oricum ne-am uitat doar pe dinafara. Asa am trecut prin parcul St. James unde veneau veveritele cersetoare. Deci chiar asa era, veneau veveritele la tine si asteptau sa le dai ceva. Am ajuns apoi la Big Ben...frumos...un ceas mare...dar frumos. Si apoi am intrat la catedrala Westminster Abbey care a fost chiar foarte impresionanta. Acolo sunt ingropati tot felul de regi, regine si poeti cunoscuti (Kets, Chauser, Charlotte Bronte, Jane Austen etc.). Mi s-a facut pielea de gaina cand stateam fata in fata cu mormantul lui Elizabeta I. Chiar foarte interesant de vazut si impresionant.  Apoi am ajuns la British Museum, foarte mare si impresionant dar n-aveam tiiiimmp, intrarea e gratis apropo. Am trecut pe la un magazin de carti oculte la Atlantis si apoi am ajuns prin SOHO. Acolo multe multe multe magazine si multa lume, lumini peste tot si o atmosfera de Craciun calda si placuta.

Am mers apoi la London Eye dar n-am urcat si am gasit o piata de Craciun prin apropiere.

A doua zi am plecat devreme iar cu trenul.

Londra mi s-a parut un oras foarte frumos, foarte curat peste tot. Lumea e mixta, am auzit mult Romani unii turisti altii nu. Englezii sunt foarte amabili, stiam ca asa se spune despre ei dar nu am crezut ca sunt chiar asa. La un moment dat eram in mijlocul strazii si ne uitam pe harta, vine o Englezoaica la noi si cica v-ati pierdut? Si pur si simplu ne ajuta. Apropo daca ii calci din greseala pe picioare tot ei spun scuze...ha ha Si ai mare grija la strada, bineinteles ca scrie pe jos: look left, look right, asa ca la boi ca ei circula pe stanga dar vreau sa spun ca era sa fim calcati de masini de vreo doua ora, ne uitam in partea opusa si ne gandeam nu vine nimic, dar de unde ca din partea opusa veneau o gramada de masini ha ha.

In conclusie, de abia astept sa merg iar acolo pentru ca se merita.

17 November 2010

Part two of the story dedicated to Simona, the story is called Cursed ever after

Chapter 1. A pleasure to meet you





'Are you sure you want to do this?'

He looked at me with those eyes I knew did not approve. Rodney was not only my best friend but also one of the best weaponry men in the hidden history. He created many devices for me and over the years, they improved tremendously. One of the main devices was 'the necklace'. It was a special collar with iron spikes on the inside. I often wore it to prevent myself from the full moon rages and any sudden outbreaks. During the transformations, my neck was the first to expand so that's the first thing I wanted to stop. As spikes entered my neck, I would lose much blood and the pain would calm and weaken me down. This time I was planning to face a vampire and I needed much more than a necklace.

'Yes, neck, thighs and waist.'

We were standing in one of Rodney's hidden workplaces. I stared in the mirror as he sat on a stool holding the necklace in his hand. He looked at me frowning. He wore short dark blond hair and a beard that made him look older. Rodney was 256 years old. He was neither a vampire nor a werewolf. He stood up from his stool and applied the necklace.

'What will you do?' I felt the cold iron touch my neck.

'I have to look in his eyes, long enough to see something or make him see something.'

'That's your plan?'

'I know.'

'It's not a plan at all.'

'I am aware of that. What else do you want me to do?'

'I don't want you to do anything but I think you know my opinion about this.'

Rodney had been trying for years to make me forget about m obsession and enjoy my life 'the way I was supposed to'.

'Yes, I do. I truly do, but I don't know what else to do. I must see him.'

'You do what you must. Just be careful and don't let yourself bleed to death.'

'You know that can't happen.' I smiled and saw the bitterness in the mirror.

'You know what I mean.'

'It won't go like last time.'

15 November 2010

Ce caut? Nu exista

Bineinteles ca nu am gasit nici-o munca asa repede. Stai ca tocmai a trecut weekendul. Plan pentru urmatoarele luni: tre sa aflu daca mi-ar place sa fiu profesoara. Chestia e, asa fac eu de obicei si sunt sigura ca nu sunt singura: idializes toate alea. Stii cum e, te duci la o petrecere si inainte sa ajungi deja te gandesti ce super o sa fie, dans, muzica, lumea multa si placuta si o sa te distrezi mult de tot, asculti muzica inainte sa pleci, topai prin casa si te imbraci super bine. Si ajungi la petrecere...trei insi se uita dubios la tine, muzica e si ea pe acolo dar nu prea auzi ce fel e, atmosfera e...cu totul si cu totul altceva decat ti-ai imaginat, nu dansezi ca n-ai pe ce, bautura nu ajuta ca te-ai depresionat prea rau ca ai fost dezamagita de ceea ce aveai in cap si realitatea. Eh asa sunt eu, zic acum profesoara, mama sa vezi vin in fata clasei si le zic si le povestesc devin o adevarata nebunatica, geniu si toti copii ma vor place. Si poate vad ca vin in fata la o clasa de mucosi si sunt asa depri ca de abia scot doua cuvinte si nu trece o luna si ajung iar in starea in care ma aflu azi. Hmmm daca ma gandesc sa organizez evenimente deja ma gandesc la filmele cu weddingplanner si ce super e dar realitatea nu o cunosc. Imi vine una rasfatata si ma tine o saptamana intreaga ca nu stie daca vrea fasole alba sau albastra ca garnitura la felul doi din meniul nuntii sau poate vrea niste flori verzi cu dungi de culoarea purpulie. Criminologia e super, ca la CSI, dar ma vad cum lesin ca vad o mortaciune in fata mea si mie scarba sa o ating. Arheologia e interesanta dar nu o sa fiu ca cei de la The Mummy. Probabil ca ajung intr-un sant noroios in Olanda, prin ploaie si ma bucur daca gasesc un rahat impietrit de la un Olandez din istorie de care probabil nu am auzit niciodata. Parca ma vad 'ce ai gasit Linda in Olanda?' ma intreaba prietenii in Romania, 'pai in sfarsit am reusit sa dau de o bucata de stofa din pantalonii lui Eric van der Grootje' ....'Okay...' ar reactiona ei. Mai departe: psihiatru...sa vezi ce bine o sa arat sezand la un birou mare cu pixu in gura si punand intrebari inteligente...cred ca ma arunc pe fereastra inaintea clientilor. Mi-am zis sa-mi deschid o firma, un restaurant sau bar. Restaurant clar ca nu ca acolo trebuie sa mai faci si mancare. Un bar, merge ca in Cheers, toata lumea vine la mine, imi cer adviz, imi decorezi barul cum vreau si pun muzica care vreau, o gramada de clienti....Wrong! Vin niste bosorogi in fiecare zi si numai pe aia ii vad si vin si stau de dimineata pana seara. In weekend am norocul sa vina un grup de tineret si sa-mi vomite in tot wc-ul si vai ce o sa ma bucur sa am onoarea sa fac curatenie a doua zi mai ales ca nu-mi permit sa angajez pe altii pentru ca nu fac multi bani cu bosorogii mei. Si deci asa cu mine si cu iluziile mele. Cred ca nimic nu mi se potriveste, doar sa scriu pentru ca atunci pot inventa orice, la orice ora si exact asa cum vreau eu.

12 November 2010

Another part of a story dedicated to my best friend

Perhaps my curse is that I was born.
My mother was a vampire and my father a werewolf, nothing more but nothing less. I have lived over a thousand years and have experienced every aspect of humanity and wilderness there could ever exist. Pain is my every day companion and I have grown used to it. I torture myself regularly and I have committed suicide more often than I can remember, in many different ways. I found jumping off a building the most deliberating one.
My name is Simone and this is my story.


One thousand years have passed but I only remember the last 500 years. I met someone, someone that did not spit on me for who I was and did not invent ways to kill me. Someone who loved me for who I was and made me laugh every morning and smile every evening. He was human and I was happy.
As all good aspects in life, this one too had to be destroyed. One day he was taken from me. We were together laughing and joking. Then he died just like that, right before my eyes, killed and burned, gone.  I could not rescue him. They killed me as well but what does killing mean to an immortal? I truly mean the word and every sense of it. I cannot die. So help me God I cannot die in any way: head cut off, burned, injected with silver, shot, stabbed in the heart, you name it. Once I was locked up for 50 years. I believe that is the only way to stop me. Stop me from what? I don't know but people tend to believe bad things about me. I guess a vampire with lycanthrope tendencies does not look very friendly.
For hundreds of years I longed for the love I had lost and searched for similarities in others but never found them as precise as I desired. Until 150 years ago.
I was chasing a wolf pack for my own amusement or desperation. I liked being surrounded by wolves as they made me feel accepted and part of a family. But it was always temporary until they sensed my true nature and ran away.
Running through the forest I reached a house. It was tall, white and impressive. It took me a moment to see it all. And as simple as some things in life can be, I saw him. He sat on the porch. He just sat there. Years of searching, dreaming, praying and giving up and now there he was. Imagine my reaction. I did not approach him. I just kept watching from behind a tree, studying his features. He looked wonderful: black smooth hair falling over an angel face with dark eyes and perfect skin. I tried to find the differences between him and the one I lost. I couldn't. He looked exactly the same, as if he had stayed alive all those years. It could have made sense if my love had not been human. I did not approach him. I decided to watch him that whole day instead. It all seemed normal for as normal as life was in those days. He lived in a small town with few people, all knowing each other of course. From the looks of it, he was fortunate with a house, a family, he had a brother and a father with whom he dined. In addition, he had love. Naturally, there had to be love in his life, a woman who would touch his face, kiss those lips and be held in his arms. He was living a life my lost love did not have. He was happy and his future lay ahead. I wanted to see him that night. I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to look in his eyes and maybe see something. The resemblance was so great, maybe he was brought back to me. I climbed to his window and waited for the perfect moment. He stood in his room, a beautifully decorated chamber with gold and white colors and flowers on the ceiling. It was now or never.

Then it happened. I sensed it. It was horrible. I saw him. I saw him drink blood. I took a step back then I ran back in the forest.
My heart had been blinding my eyes all day and I did not even stop and looked at the way he truly was: a vampire. Those perfect features, the way he moved. I did not stop and think of how inhuman he was because the memories made him look so divine to me. It took me less than a second to realize that the woman he loved was the one that turned him and his brother was a vampire too. Their father was not a vampire and I wondered if he knew. What a twisted happening it was but that was not all. When I thought he was human I was planning to speak to him. That was made impossible now.
Beside my pitiful life, I had another curse. I have been cursed so many times over the years but this one particular curse decided to stay with me. Although I am half vampire whenever I meet one...I must kill him. I have always tried to avoid them in my journeys and the ones I could not avoid have died. I never met a vampire I did not kill. Perhaps that the curse brought out my true nature. I hated vampires. My parents were killed by vampires and by vampires only. My father was not good enough for their royal blood. Love affairs between vampires and werewolves, the rich and the poor, always end up in a tragedy.
I kept my distance from the man, the vampire I so desperately loved. I kept my distance from the ones around him as well. I started following him everywhere instead, like a puppy eager to be pet. That gave me the opportunity to watch his life and the ones around him. The woman he loved did not seem to be able to choose between him and his brother. She treated him worse than his brother. He was a slave for her. His love was being wasted. His brother seemed so much different than him. Their personalities were contradictory. Only tragedy followed from that moment on. I always blamed myself for it even though I was merely a spectator. It ended up with him leaving his home wondering alone in the world. I wanted to follow him, talk to him but I couldn't. I knew I would probably kill him and I did not want to cope with another loss yet again. But I hoped that someday I would be able to approach him, force myself to deal with this vampire hatred, look in his eyes and hopefully.... at that moment I made a decision I did not think I was capable of. As wise men always say if you love someone you have to let them go. So I did. But not in my heart.
It was few weeks ago when I saw him again. He came back in the old town. When I heard about it I could not stop myself from coming as well. That is when I decided I had to face him once and for all.

I just couldn't help it, this is a part of the story I want to send to the publishers

I barely made it home, my body heavy and numb from the poison. I got stabbed few times and punched in some places I did not think would hurt this greatly. What can I say, I did not always like my job. Sometimes, most of the times I delivered easily with, in worst cases, a scratch or two. And then there were nights like these when it completely went wrong. I knew it would be a taught task but I must say I had some unexpected events. I fulfilled my task of course but I would need some time until I’d accept the next one.

I crawled up the stairs like a poisoned rat awaiting death. My maid spotted me on time and helped me to my chamber. My bed was just as I had left it in the morning. The fireplaces was asleep and the moonlight came through the window shinning over the wooden cupboard and wooden floor giving it a tint of dark river blue. My maid set up a fire as I lay in my bed and started on an herb mixtures following my instructions. She looked at me with those big round eyes and her chubby cheeks turned red. She did not say much but she knew me well.

I tried to sleep but the pain was too great. I looked around my room studying each corner of it. The entrance was on my right side and the bed was on the opposite side of the fireplace. On my left side I had a large window that revealed the beautiful houses of the city together with its narrowed and deserted streets.

Someone knocked at the door and came slowly in. It was my guest. He had hired the chamber next to mine and came and left this house as he pleased. He had come in my house a couple of days ago and this was the second time I encountered his presence.

‘You don’t look very good.’ He said with a low but pleasant tone of voice. He stood in the door opening, the firelight shining in his wolverine eyes. Few locks of his hair fell over his forehead. He wore dark grey clothes with a vest over a white shirt. He had all kinds of belts and leather stripes with all kinds of tools, some known, others I tired to figure out but could not quite identify. He wore black gloves and heavy black boots.

‘I’ve been better.’ I answered courageously. I noticed the blood spots along his arms and chest. ‘How about you?’

‘Just a flesh wound.’ He answered indifferent.

‘Come’ I said ‘sit down’. There was enough space in my bed for two. Not to mention that ‘my bed’ was nothing more than a pile of sheets and blankets put together. I often had trouble sleeping in beds, especially because I was so used to sleeping on grass and hard ground to support my aching back.

He sat down next to me and looked at the sheets slightly puzzled. ‘Do you often have an extra space in your…bed?’

‘I sometimes come home in the same shape you see me in tonight. Most of the time someone sleeps next to me to help me through the night, usually the maid or whoever can help me on that moment.’

‘And tonight?’

‘You’re the lucky one.’

He studied my wounds as if he was writing a poem about them. ‘What kind of work do you do?’ he asked suspiciously.

‘Just as simple as yours, beastslayer.’

He reacted with a smile. His smile turned in a grunt.

‘Let me help you.’ I said as I took his left arm and pulled his blooded sleeve up. It revealed a wound similar to a cut of a sword or a deep scratch. I had a small wooden cup on my left side containing the healing herbs. I was about to put a small amount on his wound.
‘This will sting a little.’ I warned him knowing it would burn like hell. I gently touched his skin with the burning herbs and did my best not to close my eyes. He did not move a bit.  

‘You must be used to a lot of pain.’ I concluded. He looked at me but said nothing.

‘Are you sure I can keep you company tonight?’ he asked after a moment of silence.

I nodded.

He took the sword off his back, put few other weapons and potions aside and took out his boots. I asked him to take his shirt off. He had nasty cuts all over his chest so I put some more herbs. He smiled at me than sat back in bed and starred at the ceiling. I stared out of the window. The full was in one of my favorite moods: yellow with a tint of grey in it.

‘We’re idiots aren’t we? Helping the world when we both know nothing good comes out of it.’
He did not answer. ‘When will we stop fighting other people’s wars?’

I looked at him as I still didn’t receive an answer. His face was turned to the right side. I leaned over to see his face. His eyes were closed. A smile shined upon my face. There I was philosophizing when all he wanted was some rest. The smile remained on my face as I turned around and stared once again at the melancholic moon.

Hi there

My search is basically me going crazy not knowing what kind of a job I would like in the future. You ever had that? There are people who are born for a job and when they were kids they already knew what they wanted. I know what I like but I don't know what I want. For example, I like: writing books, archeology, mythology, criminology, drawing, singing and playing guitar, magic, acting, history, teaching, English language, travelling...do I need to continue? Oh yeah I forgot, I am Romanian, I live in Holland and like to write in English...just to make it more simple.

So I quit my job, just like that. Some people called me crazy others thought it was a great decision. Now I am giving myself 3 months to find a job I really like. Of course I won't find the dream job but maybe I can find something I can look forward to.

I work at a local radiostation, on voluntary base but at least I can have the feeling I'm achieving something. Oh and I am trying to get my book published, fantasy book but I ask myself every day if I stand a chance. I mean even in this blog I probably made more spellingmistakes then I believe I made. But I still have to try no matter what. And besides all of this I am just trying to rearange the things I like and not do everything at the same time, I wanna read, write, study and have fun all at once. I am truly amazed my head hasn't exploded till now.

I'm looking outside and cursing the Dutch weather. I don't know what you've heard but it is truly as people say: cold, windy and rainy. Makes me pack my bags and just get out of here. I wonder if I can find a job in the Bamahas?

That's it for now. I'm gonna go read, sing, stand on my head, whatever

Asa deci asa incepem

Pai ce puteam eu sa fac decat sa incep si eu un blog. Oricum toata lumea are si avand in vedere ca-mi place scrisul de ce nu. Sa vedem cat rezista ca nu prea sunt asa prietena cu disciplina...mai mereu ne certam.

Si cum incepem blogu. Pai hai sa zic cine sunt, ce fac dar nu prea multe ca dupa aia se plictiseste lumea. Locuiesc in Olanda, am 28 de ani, am venit aici de cand aveam 14 ani. Imi place tara? Nu prea. Dar n-am de ales. Mai ales in zile ca astazi cand e furtuna mare si ploi si frig chiar ma gandesc sa-mi fac bagaju si sa fug fara ca cineva sa afle unde. Si bineinteles ca ma gandesc la o tara calda, pai normal, la soare, la mare, fara stres si probleme.

Stresul pot sa zic ca am mai scapat de el. Lucram fulltime dar muream cu zilele asa ca m-am decis sa-mi dau demisia. Multa lumea a zis 'bravo' altii 'bai nu esti sanatoasa'. Motivul e ca din totdeauna mi-am dorit sa fac altceva, ceva creativ si mereu am zis ca am timp suficient sa o fac. Si uite asa trec anii si ste trezesti la 28 de ani ca de fapt vroiai sa faci altceva acum 8 ani. Problema financiara? Am strans niste bani, nu cine stie ce dar atat sa ma tina cateva luni pana imi gasesc altceva. Mi-am zis ca am trei luni la dispozitie. A trecut deja o luna juma....nu ne stresam gasim noi pana la urma o munca care sa ni se potriveasca.

Si ce fac eu toata ziulica? (Imi place faza cu pusul intrebarilor si tot eu raspund...jalnic, stiu) pai lucrez pe baza voluntara la o statiune de radio locala si am avut pana acum doua reportaje care au fost la radio si au aparut si pe situl lor. Eh macar acu arat ca nu mi-am petrecut saptamanile mucegaita pe canapea sau pierzind ore in sir pe net...Asa si m-am gandit ca invatamintul mi s-ar potrivi. Da aici e altfel invatamantul decat in Romania, adica din cate mai tin minte si aud acum la noi e mai rau. Aici e destul de ok dar stai ca n-am inceput inca. Am avut doua zile pana acum in care am mers la o scoala sa vad cum e. Conclusia: invatatoare la gradinita e de belea, clasele 5-8 e mai ok. Si as vrea sa ma fac profa de Engeleza daca se poate. Chiar azi am trimis CVul meu la o scoala ca au un loc pentru profesor de Engleza, sa vedem daca vor raspunde sau nu.

Apropo imi cer scuze daca mai scriu ceva prostii sau cu greseli dar ma pot apara cu faptul ca am plecat tanara din Romania plus ca stiu si Engleza si Olanda...asa asa lauda-te.

Hai sa o lasam asa deocamdata. Va mai scriu eu zilele astea ca doar n-oi munci.