Weekend

Ended up speinding a lot of time hanging out in Piata Victoriei this weekend, just people watching. I have no idea how those Romanian girls can prance about in high heels. I wear high heels for five minutes in my apartment and my feet are killing me. Have these girls genetically adapted to high heels? Do they have higher foot arches? Extra padding? Please explain.

I'm sticking to my nice American Eagle flip flops. I don't care that I keep getting weird looks (why does everyone stare at your feet here before looking at your face here? And no, I'm not the only foreigner who's noticed this).

The glue sniffers are out in full force. A lot of them are trying to hide it, carrying around a dirty bag that looks like a distended scrotum, but when you see them a few minutes later, their sleeve is hanging straight down and empty while their head is half submerged in their sweater.

I went for another walk at night. I loitered around Lemon Bar's amazing outdoor patio because I have a secret crush on the singer. He has such a beautiful voice. I walked back and forth on Alba Iulia street I don't know how many times in an excuse to hear him sing. He belted out all the early 90 classics that are the mainstays of any just-starting-out garage band. I sang along in my head.

I wandered to Piata Opera and sat on the bench thingies they have there and listened to an animated argument/discussion in Italian. My Italian is decent, so I could follow along, although for some reason, the woman whipped out a condom and started waving it in the man's face. I know lots of dirty things in Italian, but didn't hear anything remotely sexcual being discussed before that happened. They wandered off.

I walked by the restaurants, trying to see how much English I could hear. I heard two men speaking, although it was accented, so I know they weren't native speakers. Otherwise, the Italians were out in full force. I think there are more Italians here than in Rome (because when I was in Rome, all I heard was English).

On my way home, I heard the strains of Activ from a disco close to my apartment. I wasn't exactly dressed up to go dancing, but wandered downstairs to see what was going on. I don't even know the name of the place. It's on Str. Delamarina. I thought it was a Serbian turbo folk bar for the longest time, but I guess it's a Romanian pop bar. Had I been dressed better, I would have stayed.

And now it's Sunday. I got paid yesterday and spent my morning at Billa stocking up on groceries (ie- caviar and imported Italian cheeses). No, seriously. I've been craving caviar since I came back from Sweden, and I want to make another Midsommar meal on the 21st here, so I'll try to save it until then.

Went to the market and got tonnes of strawberries and cherries (yes, I am so milking the cherry thing for all its worth while they're in season). Went to buy a zucchini from my usual lady at the market, but she told me they were no good. She told me to wait a minute, then she led me over to another table that had better zucchinis. I love the market.

I'm still not completely cured. I have no idea what's wrong with me. Last Sunday I got very sick (to the point where had they been filming me, I could have made a lot of money in the fetish porn industry) and this week, my stomach's been all weird. I'm sleeping better, my appetite is back, still don't have much energy, but I think I'll live after all.

Tonight, we're going to the outdoor theatre to watch "Duplex". I hope it's good. It's windy, so hopefully it'll keep the mosquitos away.