Atonement

Have you ever seen a movie you can't stop thinking about? I've only seen couple, in my entire life. One of them? Last night.
Atonement sounded compelling from the day I've read about it in the N.Y.Times and saw an add on TV. I enjoy war movies, especially wrapped around a love story.
It was all that, but very deep, with professional, natural acting, for the most part. I actually though that McAvoy was absolutely perfect at his role, while Knightley was good, really good. I still caught her acting couple of times. And that's a no-no. For example, the scene at the door (you'll know when you see this "must-see" movie:)She had her responses ready even before the main male character spoke.
Also,I think Redgrave was overrated as well. I'm sure she's a great actress, and she was good at her tiny role, but great? I don't think so.
Two other actresses,the blond girl and the same grown up, both with hard names to remember, were excellent at their performance.
The movie itself is a bit of a challenge to follow, while interesting at all times. It makes you think about how unjust the world and life can be. And why? Makes you think a lot about why? It also tricks you, spins you, which I love. For me, acting and the unexpected twists are the most important elements of a memorable movie. And this one reminds me of "The English patient" from 10 years ago. It is as good.
I predict it will swipe away the Oscars.

Christmas gifts and flaws

Sometimes I am so grateful for not having a job. Like today. I am absolutely exhausted.
Christmas was fun, as it is every year, but it's also tiring. My in-laws, as always, are very generous with gifts towards me. And they always pick stuff that keeps on giving, from my Christmas list. Such as a great gift card. Or the book I wanted. And many others.
Christmas lists are, actually, M.'s family's invention. And a great one, I may add.
I've been bugging my sister and her husband to make them as well. It is not easy to shop for my brother-in-law. I could use some help. When I ask my sister for it, she says: "I don't know. He never likes anything I buy him."
M. often doesn't like what I buy him, if there's any variation from the exact item on his list. For example, clothes. Or shoes. I dare you to buy M. shoes, or a sweater he likes. Even if it's the brand he's been wearing for decades, and a great style, he will still find a flaw. "They're not comfortable," he said for an excellent-looking pair of leather Aldo boots I bought him last year. They weren't cheap. He wore them once. Enough, so I can't return them. There they are, collecting dust in the closet. He still wears the ones he bought before I even met him- more than five and a half years ago. And they look like they're ready to retire.

Long night to D.C.

We decided to go down to D.C. this weekend, to spend Christmas with both our families. But, we still wanted to avoid traffic jams. At any cost. There's nothing worse than being stuck in the car, without being able to do anything about it. So we left at 5 a.m. Which means got up at 3:45.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," is what M. often says. It was a good idea, for the most part. You see, we avoided big delays, but arrived in D.C. absolutely dead tired. So our arrival was like: "Hi, good to see you, where's the bed?"
We had a nap, which recuperated us, and still had the whole day ahead. Which is a plus. The minus? Except for the first Starbucks being closed, and M. driving at night tired?
Considering, we were lucky.

Charmin...g

As I was mourning Helga, I continued going to other auditions. I think I've read somewhere that the best way to get over something, is to go out there. So I went to three auditions in one day! I was really into getting over.
"Hi, I'm here to audition for Boom," I said.
"Are you Equity?" a woman at the sign up desk asked. I don't even know what that really means, but I know, I am not. "No."
"They didn't see anyone who's not Equity. But you can leave you headshot..."
So I did.
On my way to the other one, there was a guy off Broadway and 46Th, promoting Charmin.
"Clean bathrooms, please come in, " he was yelling at us. The blue and the red trail led to something that looked interesting. I could use the bathroom, I thought, and went in, up the escalator.
Upstairs? Unbelievable! There were people in masks dancing, the music was loud, pictures of those two Charmin bears everywhere, cute bear's paws leading you to a bathroom where you're supposed to try their "soft" or "strong" toilet paper and decide which one you like best. And they clean each bathroom after each person.
"Enjoy!," a young man said to me, smiling, before I went in. I was laughing out loud.
Couple of minutes later, there was a guy with a camera, asking me what do I think about this whole thing.
"Hilarius," I said, while the music was blasting in the back. Actually, it was Charmin's theme song.
"Why?" he asked.
And I said, as I was walking out:"Only in New York!"And I meant it!

Helga died tonight

Today is definitely not my day. I just wrote half of my post and ...deleted it.
What else?
I just found out that I didn't get the role I hoped for. The one over which I got my hopes up. Boy, was I wrong to do that!
I was just so perfect for it. I don't get it. How could he possibly find another, better for the role than me? I'm almost tempted to ask. What I'll do instead is ask my teacher to ask him what happened.
I can't wait to see Helga. I'll still see the show, of course. I'm not from the stone age. Though I am a Serb. Grudge-holders and all:)
In my mind I was already canceling the trip to Aruba. Telling people to come see me in this great play. Enjoying every minute of it. Sad, ha?
And this happens exactly at the time when I realize how much I enjoy my life. I was coming back from an audition today, for an extra in a movie, and thinking of how lucky I am to be able to pursue my dream without waiting on tables in New York, like other aspiring actors.
But I guess, in this city, nothing is easy to get- a job you're qualified for, a role you're perfect for. There's always someone better. Hopefully, not always.

City Crab disappoints, Copper Chimney holds the reputation

I'm afraid New York decided to be showy, cold, wintery and wet for a while. It is Christmas time after all. I love the snow, but none else of the above.
Our good friends from D.C. decided on their visit for this weekend, months and months ago. It wasn't the best weekend, except for Friday but what can you do. Winter weather, and weather in general, is hardly predictable.
We went to two restaurants--City Crab, which was overpriced and disappointing, and cozy, yummy Copper Chimney.
The overpriced mixed seafood plate didn't stop the cook to undercook the scallops and shrimp, though the crab cake was pretty tasty. The crab soup and the oysters were average. And all this after an hour of a wait! So not worth it. I guess location can compensate for the quality.
Copper Chimney on the other hand showed us to our table instantly and everything bit of the food we had was exceptionally good. However, the red cocktail my female friend and I had, was just o.k. Nor comparable to my, previously consumed at home, mixed berry martini. But overall, a positive experience, again, and we didn't feel ripped off, at all. And our friends loved it! Thumbs up!

Bipolar New York, where you have to eat in on weekends

New York City is either schizophrenic or suffers from a bipolar disorder. Yes, I watch way too much "Law and Order." It was snowing heavily yesterday and I woke up to a sunny day, without a single show flake around.
Actually, it's beautiful either way-white or warm. And so alive this time of the year.
Try shopping in New York in the middle of December. You would have to be on someone's head. All those famous shopping meccas, such as Macys or Gap, are so packed that you can't turn without bumping into someone. And don't even try walking along the Fifth for fun.
I tried to make a reservation in one of the most exciting restaurant M. and I discovered in this city-Pipa. Killer tapas,fancy, stylish decor-old, glace chandeliers hanging from everywhere, old mirrors on the walls, very dim lights, loud from talk, but with a great atmosphere.
"I'm sorry, but we don't have anything before 11:30," the hostess said.
"How about tomorrow?
"The same thing. But you can come, and there's approximately a half an hour wait."
I was curious: "So,when did all those people call for reservation?"
"Monday or Tuesday. That's when you have to call if you want a reservation for the weekend."
Well, that's New York for you. How could I forget?

Can Hilda be Serbian?

I finally had the audition I was looking forward to and fearing from, the whole month. It's the one role that conflicts with our trip to Aruba, but the one I really want. Now, who else would cancel the trip to Caribbean, just to work for free for three months?
The director is a well known New York theater director and teacher, who happens to be extremely nice. "I'm very interested," he said, after our short chat. You see, I wasn't doing a cold reading or monologue-ing, since all I say in the play is in German. And most of it is singing. But, in a production of T. Williams, by an accredited director in a well-known studio in New York, that is a huge deal!
He asked me if I speak German, can I sing, am I German..."You're accent is so close to German," he said. Finally, someone who appreciates my accent!
"I'm not German, but I look like one,"I said. "I'm Serbian."
I do believe I have a drop of German blood, from my Mom's father's side. So I said that. Of course!
"I'll call you in a week," he said, but that doesn't mean anything, except that he likes me, for the role. Hopefully, no one more German will show up. He's only casting his studio's students, which is only fair, and a great opportunity.

Soupman and NYFA

Are you a Seinfeld fan? Well, than you will like this post.
I went to a Soupman today, where I had a good, but not Seinfeld-amazing crab bisque.
It was also kind of pricey. I mean, it's a pick-up place, with only a few tables next to the door and no service, except behind the soups and the register. But yet, a bowl of this bisque was $11. You do get bread, a piece of fruit and a tiny chocolate with it as well. But, I really just wanted soup. I guess you pay for the celebrity.
So, this Soupman was on Broadway, between E. 13Th and E. Houston. I was hungry on my way back from the New York Film Academy, where I've just auditioned for a role in a student film. It was good, but I guess not great since they didn't say anything except"Thank you for coming." They did shoot the whole thing. It was an interesting practise because they asked me to improvise, for the first time during an audition.
That was only after reading the sides twice.
I was supposed to talk to my boss on the phone, and tell him that I'm not happy about him giving the job I wanted to another person, who's been with the firm for only six months. I thought I did a pretty good job. Considering. They just told me about the situation, and I did it, right away, without any thinking, any preparation. As I said, great exercise. It's exactly what we started doing in my class this month.
Also,walking for couple of hours today, it dawned on me how comfortable I feel in this city now. How fluent I am in it. I know where I'm going, I enjoy exploring it, I see places I recognize. It's a cozy feeling.

Christmas party season

M. and I went to out first Christmas party this year. It was in my acting studio.
The studio was decorated really well and with dim lights, it looked totally different than during classes. Actors-students and guests were, of course, fashionably late for hours. There was a variety of food people brought, including ourselves. You see, it was an American creation-potluck-so one doesn't have to do all the work, even as a host. I actually like this invention. It really takes a load of one person or a household, for bigger events.
So, M. and I talked to one of my former classmates.She's the only one I knew, not counting couple of teachers. We were also approached by a couple of boring people and barely escaped that with our lives. We did have a bite of almost anything there was--from pasta, lasagna, salads, pies,cookies,hummus...Oh, my God, it would be faster to say what we didn't taste. Ice cream?
It was kind of enough of everything after an hour and a half, but they summoned us into the stage-room , for raffle drawing. I never had much luck with lottery. Apparently, M. neither. But it was fun, funny and useful. The director spoke about the acting business in New York and gave us some useful tips.
None of my current acting friends came. I have no idea why. I was looking forward to introducing my teacher to M. as well. Maybe next year.

Seurat, auditions

I had another audition today, this time in my league-a student film. It was fun, and the best one I had so far. The audition itself was in the same neighborhood as the previous ones, but in a professional looking studio, with autographed headshots of real, famous actors on the walls.
The "casting agent" was also a screenplay writer, but because he was young and only getting into the business( I presume,) he was nice, gave me time of the day and the atmosphere was much more relaxed that previously. I didn't do the monologue, but read the "sides," which is acting vocabulary for the parts of the script you read during an audition. So I read, we talked, I read again and than he said he'll get back to me. The shoot, if he ever calls me back, will be outside of New York. But that's o.k. It would be fun, and a good experience.
As it happens, everything happens at the same time. I got a phone call for another student film just hours later. This audition is on Monday, also for an interesting, a pretty big role in a NYFA film.
So, keep your fingers crossed. It's good experience and, boy, do I need it!
On my way back from the audition, M. and I stopped at packed MoMA, to see Seurat.
I highly recommend the exhibition! His late work is amazing! I was stunned by his drawings from the family of "At the concert European," where he's drawn nightclub singers and the atmosphere in French clubs from late XIX century, with such insight. He's a symbolist, with the heightened use of mysticism. His best work was just before he died, at the age of 31, from diphtheria. It's amazing how much he was able to achieve in such a short life. What a waste.
So go, see it, now!

Bliss

I had an hour of Bliss yesterday. It's the most unbelievable spa in New York, one I've read about in magazines before moving here.
It's on the fourth floor of the fancy, trendy W hotel. When you walk in, everyone's smiling. The spa seems large-there are showers, steam and sauna, lockers, than my favorite-women's lounge. There, under the dim lights and relaxing music, you can have cheese and crackers, lemonade, tea, olives, cucumber and variety of delicious cookies, a much as you want. And read magazines, while munching.
This is where your aestetitian picks you up and takes you to an individual room for a treatment. The warm, cozy, anatomically shaped bed there is helping you relax as you enjoy your facial or a massage.
A Romanian woman did my facial. We chatted about Ceausescu and the communism, and the contemporary times. Things have not been much different there than in Serbia, historically. She did leave Romania over 25 years ago. Her accent was still strong.
She was surprised when she heard I was married. "Are you in school,?" she asked while massaging my face. "I got done with school recently and I'm looking for a job now." "How old are you, 21, 22?" That's when I started laughing while increasingly enjoying my treatment. They don't give you only the facial, but also an ego-enhancer.
"No, I wish, I'm a bit older that that," I smilingly answered.
She seemed genuinely stunned when I told her how young I am. Really, she did. I can tell when people are just giving you a compliment without meaning it.
I mean, I thought I look younger, but never that young. God, Bliss feels so good!

Tired, showy, lazy N.Y.C. day

The open call and the acting classes last night totally drained me. Plus, I didn't sleep well at all. So I woke up feeling sick, while healthy. I did have two auditions on my calendar today, but going to them, the way I was feeling, would not be fun, but a torture.
So instead I stayed in for half of the day, catching up with some bills and home errands, went to the gym where I read T.Williams, and then to TJ's for fun food shopping! I love TJs! Great food, courteous people, reasonable prices.
The 20 block chilly walk was sobering-I felt less tired after it.
I haven't taken that walk along the Third Avenue for a while. I forgot how much I enjoy it.
I've noticed how New York gets a certain Christmas charm even outside of the Fifth Avenue. One artfully decorated flower shop on my way, and the enlightened trees, made me want to buy an egg nog. And put on Sinatra and the Christmas tree.
Maybe tomorrow.

Freezing your way to casting

I never believed that I would wait an hour and a half to get to an open casting call. But, I did, today!
I wasn't even late, I got there exactly on time, and the line was nothing I've ever seen before. Worst than the Millionaire's. I swear!
"Is this what New York is all about? Long lines? Waiting?,"I kept asking myself. "I don't know if I'm cut out for it."
But I stayed. At first, because I had nothing better to do, and a caramel macchiato in my hand. Later, because I've already waited for almost an hour. But at exactly an hour into it, I got really close to the entrance.I couldn't feel my toes anymore.I was dressed warmly, but in about 35 to 38 degrees max, two pairs of socks can only do so much.
I wasn't freezing for nothing for an hour! So I stayed! I finally got in, filled the paperwork along with another 200 people, gave them my resume and the headshot, they took another two pics, and that was it!
They will call us when they need us! Did I mention it was for a casting agency that works for "Law and Order" and "Sex and the City?"
Don't get too excited, it's just for an extra. But, you never know...

Audition-Take Two

I've survived my second audition in this city crawling with wanna-be actors.
But this one was legitimate. When I walked in, I found a scene you all probably saw at least once on TV--a room filled with actors reading a book and waiting to get called.
"Do you need to sign up?" said a woman close to the door, couple of minutes after I've must have been looking lost. "Yes," I answered, thankful for the attention. "The sign up sheet is in the other room."
The first empty slot was 83. It was 12:30 p.m. And they were auditioning number 38.
So I put my name on the sheet, pack my bags and meet M. for lunch.
Two hours later, they're listening to the number 59. At least I wasn't late.
Looking for an empty seat in the packed waiting room, I spot this young, friendly looking girl and make my way there. Soon we start talking about the business and how competitive it is in this city. She's a professional actress, even has a M.F.A. in acting. This is all she does and how she supports herself. Very impressive, I thought. She's been doing so for seven years now and still cannot get an agent?!
"Can I see your resume," a Serb in me is rearing her nosy head. "Sure," she says, and the rest of the conversation was about how she got to be on "Law and Order."
"Wow, " I said, "that's all I wanna do!"
She's been kind in saying that it was just a tiny role, but to me, it sounded magical!
Her resume is impressive- a lot of theater, some TV...I felt like such an amateur.
Then I realized, most of the people in this room are probably as experienced as she is. What am I doing here ?????
But, I was already there. It was a long walk. It took me an hour just to get ready.
So, I'm not leaving without at least walking into the auditioning studio and saying my monologue. Even though I felt like finding a big hole and crawling into it.
So I did it! I walked in, said my monologue, thanked them and left. The panel of four people-two mid aged men and two youngsters were at the table. I was in front of them, in this large, more-less soundproof room. They didn't seemed impressed.
Still, I felt so good about myself leaving that place, despite knowing I'm not going to get the role. I did something I was afraid of. I also got so many advices from that nice actress I bugged. And I might actually be better next time!

Snowy New York

Winter finally came to New York. Not that I like winter, but I do like snow. I wish it could come without the cold.
I woke up to a white city, and it was snowing heavily and slowly throughout the day. But somehow, it all seems to be melting now. I guess N.Y.C. is after all too hot for snow. In every way possible.
This is my first snow-watching in New York. Unless I count a visit during winter of 2004. I don't remember watching it fall though, like today. And I certainly didn't feel home back then. In fact, I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing.
It just seemed like this huge, bright, the most alive city I've ever seen.
When I think back of three years ago, so many things have changed. And if anyone told me back then that I will watch the snow fall down on Manhattan from my own window, I'm not sure if I would believe.

Sofas and couches, Busboys and Poets, and auditions

I'm writing this from one of "Busboys and poets" in D.C. It's a cafe-restaurant with a charming setting, including the sofas and arms chairs I love. I'm not a big fan of sitting on a chair or at the table. I learned my way through the University by studying on a couch, and I got my Masters by writing on my laptop in Tryst. Really. I tried to avoid writing at the lab as much as possible. Once, I almost got into trouble with a teacher because of it. I never understood why she cared if I write my story in a cafe or in the computer lab. I mean, I'm writing it, either way. Who else would have time to write me an article in a middle of a week day? Other people have better things to do. Besides, she can easily tell the difference.
So, I enjoy the casualness of a cafe like Tryst or Busboys and Poets. Very original name too, don't you think? Imaginative and stylish. Unfortunately, its latte and chai latte are not that good. But the carrot cake is great! One of the best I ever had in a cafe--moist, sweet just enough with vanilla frosting in the middle and on top, and a strawberry on the side--just delicious!
So I'm hanging out on red sofa, with the lingering taste of the cake in my mouth, and my notebook in my lap, browsing through the auditions. I've actually found quite a few I really like. I'm excited about going back to New York and taking a plunge. But a bit nervous about it at the same time. I'm going to need a lot of courage and will, to do something in the acting business. And a lot of luck. And someone who doesn't mind my accent.

Who's the adult here?

I wanted to catch up with another good friend of mine, while I'm here. He was kind enough to invite my visiting mother and me out for breakfast. I passed the invitation along to her. "Great," she said. "What should I wear?"
I thought it was a great idea too. After all, my Mom is only 18 years older than I am. And she spends way too much time at home anyway.
So, we meet this friend of mine. I introduce them. He gets us muffins and lattes, and we sit down to munch and talk. My Mom asks a couple of questions,I interpret back and forth, but then my friend and I start speaking fast English about mutual interests. It was just the next natural thing to do. Before I could even get to half of the things I wanted to ask him about, my mother is done with her muffin and coffee, she's falling into boredom and starting to play with my cell phone. A message arrives while she's peeling this navy blue rubber coat off the back side of my cell, and she is asking me how to reply. Then she's typing, asking questions again, all while I'm in the middle of a conversation with another person. Wait a minute?! Isn't that exactly what she taught me was rude?
I was in an awkward situation myself. I started realizing that this was not such a good idea. I mean, I wanted my mom to meet this friend of mine, and he wanted to meet her, but I forgot that they will not have anything to talk about after the first five minutes.
So she's now calling M. I glance at her occasionally. I ask if there's anything she would like to say. "All I want to know is can he get you a job?"
When do parents start behaving like children, and vice-versa? Is it when you turn 30?
I mean, my Mom was behaving like a bored six-year-old, while I was trying to have an adult conversation. She even admitted that we've switched roles afterwards. I also complained later that she didn't even try to listen to what I believe was a very stimulating conversation, and that all she cares about are the house and having grandkids, and she didn't even try to deny it.
I guess somewhere along the line I deserved this kind of treatment. I'm sure I've stopped and rushed her from many adult things she wanted to do. But I always thought I'm safe until I have my own kids. Well, think again.

One meeting after another coffee

D.C. has been sunny this past week. Sunny but chilly. It has a bit of a different feel since I've lived here. It's more vacationy. But it quickly and easily brings the old issues back as well.
I've had coffee today with a friend. I've enjoyed the chatting and catching up very much! Then went shopping with my family. Had an interesting Yogilates workout this morning too.
I was supposed to meet someone else for a drink-- a journalist I met some time ago--to talk about how he does his work for the Serbian media from here. But that didn't pan out.
I was actually glad it didn't. As much as I like to see my friends, or invest into my career, scheduling one thing after another is a bit stressful. And not vacationy at all. You see, I like to do things on a whim. I like to sleep in if I feel like it, have breakfast in my pajamas, spend some time in my house before I shower, talk, watch a morning show...
If I get up and immediately start getting ready to go somewhere, that reminds me of school, or work. Not vacation. Even if the meeting is a pleasant one.

Missing the acting...

I'm missing my first acting class tonight. Only because I'm in D.C. and the class is in New York. The other possible reason would be if I were sick. And that's it!
Tonight is also the beginning of my third month at this studio. It's really growing on me. I can't wait to audition for one of its productions, nor to start a scene study. That's when the most interesting work starts.
Thess three months are just a base, foundation, learning different techniques.
It can be tedious or fun, but it's probably important. I guess it's that way with whatever you're trying to learn or step into. I just hope it won't all be in vain.

Friends here, friends there, friends everywhere...

This time in D.C. is supposed to be M.'s vacation, and my time with my family-my sister and mother. But I would also like to catch up with a couple of friends.
I actually haven't made many friends in D.C. in three years. I'm not sure exactly why? I mean, I used to be an accessible, smiling person who would make friends within minutes. Does it have to do with the fact that I got married? Or with the culture shock I've survived here? Or maybe I'm just getting older and becoming more picky. All of the above?
I've made couple of friends in my acting course.I made couple at AU. In the process, I've met many people, but those are acquaintances, not friends. A friend is someone you like to spend time with outside of the shared interest or activity. And someone you trust. And who trusts you back.
I've lost a lot of friends in Serbia when I moved to the States. We just drifted apart. No one's fault, really. It's just the nature of the beast.
People evolve, thank God! That doesn't mean that they cannot be friends with someone from the previous stage. But it also doesn't mean they should, or have to.

Road trip

I've been car sick since I was little. I still recall those long trips to Montenegrin coast with my family, during which we regularly had to stop so I can...relieve my nausea.
Things have been better in that department since I've been a bigger girl;-)But I still don't like long car trips and I absolutely load buses.
M. and I are forced to drive down to D.C. because Amtrak won't let our little Nina on board. So I make sure we have plenty of good Cd's,we stop two or three times and I somehow survive the four hour drive. Nina helps a lot. She sleeps in my lap the whole trip. It's adorable. I love it. I'm petting her and enjoying every minute of it!
Starbucks is generally our criteria for a rest stop. If there is one, we stop, get some yummy, more-dessert-than-coffee drink, or my favorite for the road-ice tea lemonade, but Serbian way-without ice! It's actaully good, try it! There's more to drink, and more taste to it!
So we've been in D.C. since Friday afternoon, relaxing with my family. It's nice, really. Another world from New York.
I'm slowly reviewing my German, hoping it will be enough for that role I've mentioned in my previous post.If not, I'll have my consolation prize-Aruba!

Aruba...or Helga?That is the question!

I'm such a "baksuz" sometimes. I really am. "Baksuz" is Serbian, actually Turkish, for a person who has bad luck. In a nutshell. It's actually more sophisticated than that. Well, I'll explain.
M. hasn't had a vacation since last year. I have been sick three times in two months. So, my mother suggested we go to the coast somewhere, as soon as possible. Somewhere warm, where we can swim. It's good for my sinuses. And M. needs a real vacation.
So, we decided, we should go to the Caribbean, since that's the only place you can actually swim comfortably in the winter. And we booked kind of expensive vacation two nights ago. Exciting, but at the same time, a bit nerve racking. So, to ease our minds, we decide not to eat out at least until the trip. That can save one a lot of money in New York.
Last night, at my theater, I realized that there is a perfect little role for me in their next production...which coincides with our trip! Now that's a definition of "baksuz"!
I know I didn't get the role yet, but I fit the description, it's small enough not have much competition and no one yet signed up for it! The audition is in mid December, so I'm not going to know until then if I got it or not.
Now, we can cancel or postpone the trip, but that would be a clear case or throwing money away. A significant amount. And I really want this vacation too. But I also really want to role. Even more.
So, I'll just have to wait for another month, prepare for the audition and see what happens. And cut the losses then.

And back in D.C....

We spent the long weekend in D.C. It's been three and a half months since the last time we were there.Initially, we were planning on going back not more than twice a year, but having my mother here changed our plans. Of course it did.
We actually decided to drive there, since it's four of us, and Nina isn't allowed on the train. Unfortunately. I can't understand that. Cats can fly but can't ride trains? One can get off train almost whenever one pleases. Also, there's more space on the train. You can move if you're allergic or hate a sight of an orange tabby. But, I guess, I can't find logic in everything, even if I try really hard. Which is rare.
I hate to ride in a car for a long time, but it seemed like the best choice. And we stopped twice.
It was actually more pleasant being in D.C. than I thought. We got to see our families. We stayed at a very comfortable, cozy place. I saw my old friend from
Belgrade. We saw our tenants. We went shopping. I got a hair cut. We went to our favorite cafe twice. A lot in just three day. Oh, and I almost forgot. We had a lot of my mom's home cooking.
She makes this amazing bread!It's soft and crunchy at the same time. Nothing like that can be bought anywhere.
When I was living in D.C., I didn't like it much. Now,it didn't seemed that bad. Maybe it has to do with that bread?;-)

The audition itself

As I was approaching destination of my audition, I've regretted my decision. It was a sketchy neighborhood, with some guys lingering in front of the "theater" singing "pretty women" to my mother and I. She wanted to go with me.
When we got to the 4Th floor, these old, dirty carpets, drapes and stale air washed over my senses. "What did I get myself into,"I kept thinking. But I was already there, and it took us an hour. It would be plain stupid to just leave, without actually getting something out of it. So I stayed, filled out the forms given to me by these two young women, in front of the door leading to the stage. I could hear an actor giving his heart out through his monologue in there. We barely found the place to sit down because the couches and chairs were way pass their life expectancy.
A woman, who did not look like an educated actress, but as a homeless person, tried to get to audition, without having a monologue ready. "I'll think of something," she said to the female greeters, who looked at her like she's crazy. She might have been. The director didn't let her come in.
So they told me I'm next. It couldn't have been more than two minutes since we arrived. I was still nervous, maybe even more. I also kept thinking that I never want to go back to this place.
Anyway, inside this small, rundown stage, there were three men-one mid aged, from Mid West, and two younger, smiling, normal looking guys.
The older one asked me where the monologue is from. "I'm not sure. My acting teacher from Studio Theater gave it to me and she never said who wrote it. Maybe you'll know, you probably heard it before." Having said that, I had my doubts...
So, I took couple of silent moments. I started saying my monologue not knowing if I'm going to know what to say next. I could feel that I wasn't giving a performance of my life, but I didn't think that it was all that bad. Not for the first time.
So they told me: "have a nice day." I said:"Thank you, you too," and left. I couldn't get out of that dark place soon enough. Outside, I was still nervous, but happy that I actually did it! I don't think they will call me back. But really, I don't care. I honestly don't want to go back to that theater. Or that improvised theater. I'm not that desperate.

Auditioning

I have my first New York audition today and I'm terrified. I have no idea why I'm so irrationally frightened. I mean, I know my monologue, it's a small theater, it's not even for a concrete role but for a membership and potential roles, and it's not a big deal if I don't get it. Maybe if I keep saying this to myself, or writing it down and reading it over and over, it will help with my nervousness? Ah,...., I don't think so.
Maybe that's normal.I was always more-less nervous before stepping on almost any kind of stage.It's like pushing yourself into doing something you're afraid of, because you know it is, or it might be good for you. I felt like that in school, before anchoring, before stand ups, before my scene in Studio Theater, before any performance ever. And I did a lot of those.
The stakes are not even as big now. Still...
Anyway, I will go and do it, even though I feel like crawling into a mouse hole.
It's in little over than two hours. And the most important thing about it is the experience. Next time, when it might be important, I won't be so scared. And I'll know what to expect. Hopefully...

Saint Sava and Lepa Lukic over lunch

Four of us went to the Sunday service at the Serbian Orthodox Church yesterday, just before noon. M. had a hell finding a parking spot, because of a parade. We suspect it was one of the ways New Yorkers celebrate the Veterans' day.
The church was packed. I'm not sure if it had to do with the lunch afterwords or because a Serbian folk singer was visiting and performing after lunch. Probably both. This lunch was average and its cost was $10 per person, without drinks or dessert. But the money goes to the church, which makes it sort of a donation. The lunch itself could've been richer. It was definitely Serbian in New York way-Serbian lunches in Serbia proper are much bigger with many, many more choices. And free;-)
But the church can use that money, so I'm glad we helped and not quite starved. Not quite.
The setting was like a small, traditional Serbian restaurant in a rural Serbia-crowded, mostly mid aged and older people, eating mostly meat, and talking loudly. The room itself is very modest and there are Serbian paintings and pictures of the famous Serbian people on the walls.
We didn't stay long. It was way too crowded and we are not big fans of Lepa Lukic(the singer).We did see her with the priest on our way out.But we already gave our contribution.

Moon York City

My mother came to New York for the first time last week. She's not a big traveler type. She's been "blaming" me for making her travel half way around the world.
She hasn't even step on New York ground, and yet she already had opinions.
"It's too big. It's not as nice as Washington," she said. On our way from JFK she said: "New York looks like the moon from the plane." The moon? That must be the first.
I guess the flatness of Manhattan and the water around it reminded her of the mental image of the moon she has. No, she has never actually seen the moon;-)In person, I mean.
It's kind of fun to observe New York through her eyes. She liked the shopping stretch from the Empire State building to The Penn station. The Time Square too.
But then, just hours later:"This city is so dirty."
I guess I can understand this love-hate relationship with this city. And with people. Especially with certain people.

Cold and mean Millionaire

My Mom loves Who wants to be a millionaire. Both American and Serbian. So she's been bugging M. to go on it, to compete. I look it up and find out that one can audition only if in the audience for two tapings. Sounded great! So I order tickets, they arrive, I confirm and look forward to it. I actually ordered four, for my Mom and sister as well.
So we jump into a cab yesterday and arrive in front of the ABC's studio at 2:50p.m. The ticket said 3p.m.
When we got there, there was already a huge line of people, waiting at the door. And it's mid 40s. What can we do, we get in line. Then a woman comes by asking if we have a "number?" We show her the tickets but she said we need to go to the other line, half way down the street and get the number. We're not happy at this point but it's not exactly across the street from where we live, if you know what I mean. And my Mom doesn't live on this continent.
So, when we get to this other line, we don't get a number, but we're told to wait, in order to see if they have room for us because "they are in capacity." Who cares about the tickets, the confirmation! Useless! The only thing that seemed to matter is when you got in line. So we end up waiting for about another hour, made a trip to the near by Starbucks to warm up, moved to another line where, after about an hour and a half of waiting, they tell us: "We're so sorry...."
O, wow, was I angry or what! But, I didn't do anything, cause there was nothing really to be done. Unless to get arrested.
So I'm thinking about writing them a letter of protest. But I still want M. to audition for the next season. I'm just so sorry that we were freezing for nothing, and that my Mom and sister didn't get to experience it. We should've left right when they told us we might not get in...
I know, it's all water under the bridge now. But so hard to let go.
Anyway, we did get the Millionaire t-shirts. I'm never going to wear mine though-it will always remind me of that horrible day. Unless, M. wins a million eventually.

Tribeca

M. has this thing about checking out a different New York neighborhood every week. Well, let's just say that we try to check out a new neighborhood each month. So we went to Tribeca last weekend.
I love how Tribeca sounds, don't you? It sounds to me so sophisticated, so artsy. And it was totally different than Midtown or West Village, or any other we've seen so far.
It was quiet on Sunday early afternoon. The restaurants were half empty, you wouldn't have to elbow anyone crossing the street. It was such a quiet neighborhood last weekend. Quite a different impression of Manhattan.
The architecture was lovely-small, old building with fire escapes are everywhere.
We had a nice lunch in a small, charming Italian restaurant-Petrarca. Then we walked around, and had coffee in the Love and smth cafe, which had fun and unique interior design. I really liked the swinging chair, the couches and arms chairs scattered around this midsized coffee shop, close to the river.
We checked out De Niro's Tribeca Grill just from outside, and it looked really interesting with big paintings all over. Definitely want to go back there.
The first thing that caught my attention when we arrived, was this place where you can paint or decorate pottery. It sounded silly at first, you know, paying so you can do some work, but on a second thought, it might be fun, and therapeutic. It had a fun logo underneath the title : " The art of having fun." I don't know if I would necessarily applied it to painting pottery, but the concept itself is quite clever.
So, there you go. I would recommend Tribeca not only for a visit, but for living as well. It is, undoubtedly, an up-and-coming oasis, just a stone's throw from a soothing view of the river.

More lucrative jobs...

I had a short but full bodied conversation with a Serbian-American woman I met yesterday at the church.
We briefly talked about what we do or did, how easy or difficult is to get a good job...
She mentioned her 28 year old son, who's working as computer guy for some investment company in New York.
"He didn't really wanna do that," she said, "But when he realized that's where the money is... you know, it's not the same if you earn a $1,000 a week or $500..."
Hmmm, I kept thinking, that's exactly why I pass all those business reporter's job openings. Should I rethink?
I don't know. The idea of doing something tedious every day for an extended period of time really scares me. Money or not. I mean, I would like to earn money, nice amount. I would like to be able to afford certain things I can't now. But, I still don't want to do something I hate.
Everything does have its price. The question is, what's the highest one we're willing to pay? I still don't know the answer to that.

Saint Sava Orthodox Church

I've met the Serbian Orthodox Cathedral's priest today. I met him in the church's office, just behind the church itself.
He was still busy even though I came exactly on time for our meeting. There were other four Serb-Americans there, speaking Serblish. I'd smiled, listening to them discussing some church business passionately. Kept thinking, Serbs have to be passionate about everything.
They spoke this hybrid of Serbian and English I heard before, from Serbs living in the States longer than in Serbia, and talking to other Serbs. I understand the challenge. You wanna speak Serbian to a Serb, but in the States,there's this compulsion to speak English. It's confusing. You know, you've being bombed with English every minute of every day. So you end up speaking both languages badly.And only the other fellow Serb-Americans can actually understand you. Literaly.
Anyway, after about 20 minutes of being a fly on the wall, the priest led me to another room, to have our conversation/interview.
He is a good interviewee, and seems to be a very honest and kind man. He was very open with all the answers. And gave me a thorough tour of the church's property.
I found out that the church finance itself only thorough donations.
He was proud of the fact that it's located in such a prominent place-across from Madison Square Park,and just around the corner of the Flatiron building. But, the location makes the maintenance expensive. And difficult and expensive parking makes it hard for some believers to come to the weekly service.
This church is, however, among the top ten to see in New York City.
It was renovated recently and it is quite beautiful. I was struck by the rose window, built from a very generous anonymous donation.
If you're ever in New York, and happen to be close to the Flatiron, see the church.
If it's closed, just go around it, and someone will open the door. That is very, very Serbian.

Sick in New York, yet again

I was so tired the other night, after acting, that only now I've noticed misspellings in my last post.I don't like that. I'm a perfectionist. Up to a point.
But I wasn't only tired, but sick too. Again!
It's exactly the same bug I've been having since August!Over and over again!It's pathetic that my body can't get rid of it, once and for all.
Anyway, I don't know if it's my sinuses, or my sick visiting girlfriend left it for me when she left, but I'm, really, sick of being sick.I can't sleep, I don't feel like doing anything, even writing my blog:( Sad, ha?
I'm supposed to write this "trial article" for a Serbian paper, but I can't make myself sit down and finish it!
Also, I've been postponing an interview with a Serbian priest, just because I feel so sluggish.
I am so not happy with myself. Not only that I'm not working,but I can't even do little fun stuff, like writing my book or articles.
So, I should really make myself write. I know,that when I start, I will like it, and do it for a while, but the hardest thing for me it is the beginning.
O.k.,I'm mad at myself, I'm grabbing my new little lap top, my cat and a glace of juice and finishing my article!Only then I can watch my Crossing Jordan for the day!

Acting-month 2

I started my second month of learning how to act in New York.
The same studio, teacher, time. Couple of new people and much smaller group-of six.
That's actually great for the six of us-more stage time, more personal attention.
These classes are just o.k.most of the time, but necessary to get to the next level-scene study. That is when the real work starts but we need to have tools for it.
So we're learning basic acting tools. And it's a craft, believe me.And more difficult than I ever thought.But at the same time, easier.
Let me explain, at least a bit.You can not be caught acting. You have to look natural,feel natural, sound natural to your audience. And in order to do that,you need to become the character by really getting to know yourself.A little bit scary, right?
It's also a good therapy.
So we were doing all these exercises today--Meisner technique(if that's how you spell his name-too tired to Google.)--picking clues up from your partner, reenacting, reconstruction some experience, motivating ourselves to build a house of cards. Literary.
At the end of the day, it was educational, somewhat silly, very funny and tiring.But again, necessary for the next level.

Is anything ever free?

I had quite a diverse, interesting and consequently a short day. I have no idea how it can be almost 6:30 p.m. now?!
My mom woke me up at 7.47 a.m. delirious because she got a free ticket to the States! "I'm so happy," she chirped on the phone. "This is the greatest gift anyone can give me."
She holds me responsible because I was the one who wrote and mailed two letters of complaint to an airline,that treated my Mom like a piece of luggage last year.
It took it a year to acknowledge their assesness, and offer her a free ticket.
"You earned this," she added. "What would you like me to buy you?"
Hmmm...in Serbia, you show love through food, first and foremost,and then through gifts.
I couldn't really think of anything else, besides what she's already bringing me-hazelnut chocolate spread and minced biscuits.
"Just come over," I said modestly. "I don't really want anything else. Or need."
It's true. I do have everything I need. Well, kind of. At least materially...Well...
I do want a house on the beach. And a place in Belgrade. And...I know there was something else? And I want to see almost the whole world.Oh, yeah, I really,really wanna fly first class!!!
But those are big things. She can't get me those. I have to get them for myself,if I can.
O, yes, and I would love to shop at Chanel and Dior,and Tiffany's!

Sister Cities

I saw a great play tonight-- Sister Cities. It's a small production of a screenplay written by a woman, directed by a woman, and it's about five women. A real shot of feminism. But it was interesting, funny and moving. Good acting too.
It could not have been more than 30 people in the audience. It was definitely the smallest theater I've seen. The set was really impressive-it looked like you walked into someone's house. The warmth of it, very genuine-- pictures on the walls and the fireplace, the furniture, the mess, the den with books and paper, computer, stairs that lead to upstairs we never see, the kitchen bar with every day home stuff on it, vodka in the liqueur cabinet, chips and Fig Newtons...
All four sisters were good at their characters-all completely different as sisters often are. But these four actually have different fathers. And a very selfish mother, who apparently used men as tissues. I said used because now she's in her 60s and gravely ill.
This totally disfunctional family has a lot to tell. And it does. This play is all talk, but in a good way. There's barely anything there, any type of action except for the conversations, very serious ones.
Men barely touch this moment in life-only one character has her husband placed on a pedestal, while some of the others don't have anyone, or think of men as Ken dolls-something to play with and leave behind when they grow out of it. One of them has a failed marriage behind her, but a successful career. They all are selfsufficient.
There was a talk with the actors afterwords. A nice bonus. They're hoping people will hear about the play, and maybe, maybe give it more attention. I think, it deserves it. It's contemporary, interesting, with all the necessary elements for success-makes you laugh, makes you think, makes you enjoy it. Having said that, it's not perfect. The acting in the beginning really looked like acting, and it shouldn't. Couple of times through the play as well. But in their defense, it seemed really hard to do it, with the rollercostar of emotions throughout.
If you can, see it. You won't regret it!

Lost in New York...

Have you ever felt lost? Not physically,in space, but just lost,you know, in life?
Well, I've been feeling like that today.
The rainy New York morning didn't exactly help. And I am one of those people who depend on the sun. Really depend on it. We all do, more-less. The lack of sun makes us depressive.
That's how I've been feeling today. I've been wandering the streets of New York, looking for the sun. I knew where I was, but I wasn't sure where I was going. I felt so alone. And the city has lost its charm.
I know that things go up and down, periodically. I know that you have to get lost once in a while, in order to find yourself, or be found. But neither happened to me today.
I guess it takes more time.
I couldn't think of a single thing, easily achievable and accessible at the time, to give me pleasure, to pick me up. I guess "things" don't really do that. We just fool ourselves.
Anyway, I do feel better now. It will be a new day tomorrow, after all. Maybe the one where I'll finally find myself. And whatever I'm looking for...

Fall, rainy book...

An awfully rainy New York day today. Not as cold as yesterday though. But still,less pleasant.
My g-friend and I decided-it's a perfect day for Moma. So, I entered Moma once again. It's makes it easier being a member and all. And being able to walk to it. And being so close to the great shopping...Actually that's the dangerous part.
But despite my guest's big shopping appetite, I've been very well behaved. I haven't bought almost anything for myself! I'm bought a gift at Bloomingdale's, and ordered couple more online. But,again, proudly, nothing for myself, while my g-friend was shopping the city off.
Actually, I just remembered,I did buy a set of espresso or Turkish coffee cups today. I couldn't resist, even though we don't drink either. But the guests will enjoy them! As well as I will... by possessing them.
I'm talking about these hand-painted coffee cups, with (of course) cats on them. But they're very artsy!
So except for Moma, and At Home, I spent the rest of the day at home, still looking for a job and resting with my Crossing Jordan.
We had pizza for dinner, Patsy's. And watched the Millioner.
Nothing too exciting! Weather permit!
But I did decide that I should start writing my book next week!
It's the perfect time. I'm still not working, I have an idea, and a small, new notebook.
And it's fall after all!

Dog with shoes

Well, the summer in New York is gone alright.Unfortunately. I love this planet but I hate the cold. So global warming or not, I liked the unseasonably warm weather.
I also love how crazy New Yorkers are.I wonder, is it the chicken or the egg?Are New Yorkers crazy because they live in New York, or crazy people come to live in the friendly, natural habitat?
Let me elaborate. I SAW A DOG WITH SHOES yesterday. In the middle of the Midtown. Lex or 3rd and 50s.I almost cried for not having the camera with me.
This little dog had blue shoes on, and he was crossing the street with a blond, young woman on the leash;-)I couldn't help but laugh. Not too loud though. I didn't want her to think I'm laughing at her, just at her dog, with shoes.
I've seen dogs with clothes before. That's kinda common here. But shoes? Well, that takes the cake.
Actually, it seemed to me like the little guy was having problems adjusting the the fashion. Or to his crazy owner. He was walking kind of clumsy. Maybe she didn't want him to get his paws wet and dirty? It was raining after all. Or maybe she was Serbian and worried about dog's ovaries?
It was one of those miniature dogs, brown, cute, with long ears. Not the hot-dog. Sorry I don't know more about dogs.
I wish I had a camera!!!You trust me, right?

Long way from Midtown to Chinatown

My g-friend really made me know New York yesterday.
The initial plan was to go to the Union Square, and then to the Village for one of Cafe Reggio's great cappuccinos.I thought the plan was good, you know, enough for one day.O h, no, not for this hungry lady. She wanted to see the world and she wanted it yesterday.
"Look, Soho is so close to us," she said pointing at the map. "Can we go there?It's such a beautiful day!" She got that right. It was plain gorgeous in the city yesterday. Sunny, 74, just beautiful. "O.k.," this pushover said, sadly looking at the few last drops of the cappuccino. "Let's go."
So we went to NoLiTa, Soho, Little Italy, even Chinatown during our attempt to see Tribeca. "Do you know what Tribeca means,?" she asked excitingly. "No", I said, exhausted. "Triangle below Canal!!!"
But we never got to the triangle. Instead we stumbled upon one the dirtiest,shadiest neighborhoods of New York, where Asian looking people were telling us something every which way we looked. If this is Tribeca, I thought, I don't wanna see it!But we were probably in some outskirts of Chinatown.
We did have a great pizza in Fanelli's and famous Tartuffo and Tiramisu in my beloved Cafe Roma. Tired or not,I wasn't going to deprive her of Cafe Roma's calories, once we were in Mulberry street...

From Central Park to Tiffany's

Double M.and I went to the Central Park yesterday. The other M. is my old friend from Belgrade. She finally came to visit. From London. Actually, she came to see New York.
One of M's friends came up from D.C. as well, and we met up in one of my favorite places in New York-Le Pain Quotidien.
We had great cappuccinos and laughs,then the three of us went for a stroll in the famous park. The weather was perfect for it-sunny,70s...Hence, the park was packed. Luckily,people were not sunbathing in their swimming suits. Finally. I guess even New Yorkers wouldn't wear a swimsuit in the middle of a city in October. But then again...
The weirdest thing was the some were already ice skating, while the ice was melting.
That's the N.Y.C. diversity, in a nutshell-while some are ice skating, others are sunbathing.In the middle of a 11 million-people-city!
Walkers, children, performers, bikers, runners...The park was as alive as it is probably every weekend without rain or show. My friend loved it! We love this park too. It's the New York oasis.
She was as excited as I've ever seen her. It was fun to watch.
The Fifth Avenue was barely walkable from all the tourons. We had to fight are way through the crowds. Especially in front of Tiffany's."Can we go in?" my friends asked. "Sure!" If we can elbow the worshipers in front it, I thought.
She walked in. We followed. She looked around, and 10 seconds later, said:"It's like any other store!"

My first martini

I made my first martini tonight.First martini ever!I know what you're thinking-I had to move to New York to learn how to make a martini? And I'm not even working as a bartender.I was just never motivated before. Nor had a great recipe. Nor had the right kind of fancy glasses and a shaker.
O,yes, I got it all. Actually, those were all wedding presents we never got to use before. So the idea of playing with the martini instruments amused me. Especially with the guests coming tomorrow. So I went out, got some Blueberry Smirnoff Vodka, Triple Sec and I already had some blueberry juice. Mixed it all together, added some raspberries(I couldn't find blueberries) and voila! Blueberry martini it is! Actually, it was. We drank it. I guess that proves it was good. Or that we would drink anything in a crystal martini glass.
I mentioned guests. One of my best friends is coming tomorrow night. Late, so we have to stay awake. One of Matt's friends is coming up as well. So, I thought that we could impress them with our blueberry martinis, and have a drink before four of us go out, exploring the New York nightlife.
I'm looking forward to it! M. has stayed a devoted friend through all our life changes-she moved to London, I moved to the States. It's rare, I found out. I lost a lot of friends in the last five years. Unfortunately. They've changed, a lot. So have I...

Feisty New Yorkers

Another summer day in New York City. In October. Everyone was out and about. Even more than usual, people were bumping into each other near and on the crosswalks. Cars planted themselves on the crosswalks so we, the inferior pedestrians would have to go around them, trying not to get killed on our own turf.
Today, for the first time I actually witnessed a verbal fight between a cab driver, parked on a crosswalk and a poor pedestrian trying to cross. The pedestrian was doing what we all wanted to-rip the heads of drivers who are so casually hanging out on what's rightfully ours! The feisty cab driver didn't apologize to the pedestrian, of course. Instead, he yelled back at the pedestrian and pulled a bit backwards. Then we heard honking from another cab, conveniently parked behind the main culprit.
So the pedestrian and the cab driver are "going at it," while the first is crossing the street around the cab that's pulling back, almost hitting the car behind him. Chaos! But that's every day traffic in the City. Get used to it, or get a heart attack.

The Acting Kingdom

My acting classes are becoming more and more interesting.
I almost gave up last week. I don't feel like engaging in any kind of intellectual activity in the evenings. I'm more of a morning person.Also, four hours seems to be too long. But I payed for a month, and I have until the last class to decide if I want to take them for another month.
So, tonight was really interesting. For those of you who think acting is a glamorous job, think again.Well, maybe when you become M. Streep or DeNiro.But by then, you, for example,pretend you are an animal.
O, yes, we had to pick an animal who resembles a character we are working on, and become that animal.I picked tiger since my character is beautiful but also deadly.I had to walk on all fours. I had to make up whatever sound tigers make.(What sound to they really make???)I had to attack a bird who came too close to me. The bird turned out to be a butterfly. I had to scare away the snakes attacking me...Glamorous? My knees still hurt. Have I mentioned we did this on a hardwood floor?
Of course, we have a teacher-director telling us what to do. Not specifically what move, since everyone is a different animal, but to walk or attack or defend, make noise...Oh, it's silly. But it has a point.
Then we had to tell our monologues from our animals. Some told it crawling, some flying...It was a lot of fun. And humiliating. Not easy, at all.
But I like it more and more.I feel I'm learning and growing more comfortable.
I'm still not sure if I'm going to continue in November.I will travel then and I really shouldn't miss any classes. Each is important for the growth of an actor.
I should really continue doing it.If not in November, definitely in December. I need to be and stay on the role.

Yummy West Village Botticelli

Oh yes, it's art all right.Eatable art.At Sant Umbroeus again.But this time in West Village.
M.has been wanting to check out a new neighborhood for a while.I made him drive, since last time we walked to SOHO,in SOHO and back from SOHO, we could barely move our limbs on the sofa.I regretted that decision fast, since the New York traffic ain't fun, even on Sunday.It's not the traffic, it's the drivers. Cab drivers, which compose 90 percent of all the driving force, are the worst offenders.They behave like they own the road.
We lucked out in parking-right on the Sant Umbroeus' street. By pure chance. I craved one of those real, creamy, foamy Italian cappuccinos before we set of to explore the area. Again, reconfirmed, it's all up to the barista. The Cs were good, better than Starbucks of course, but not as good as the Southampton ones. So, to make up for the experience, I ordered one of the devils lurking from the glace window.
"What is that flower-like thing over there," I asked the waiter, while drooling. "You mean Botticelli? Yes, that's Botticelli. Chocolate mousse." Well, you know how artistic I am!
B. was everything we hoped for-chocolate mousse cake with a cookie bottom. It was almost too beautiful to eat. Almost!
Sugar-rushed, we went on to explore the world of the West Village.It has a Georgetown feel to it, only dirtier and less rich. Younger crowds too.
We stumbled upon an inviting cheese shop, tasted some, bought some Manciego with olive oil and some Laboratorio del gelato gelato. The gelato made us leave sooner than we probably would have, but we still got a pretty good feel of the neighborhood. It's different than Midtown-different restaurants, shops, even people.
Oh, one more thing-the gelato has too many walnuts.

High school math friends all over America

I just had a skype conversation with two people from my native town.They both live and work in the United States-one in New York, one in Arizona.I went to high school with both of them.It's next to impossible for all of us to be geographically so close to each other 12 years later.We all took different paths which led us to this country.
One of them got a great,lucrative job offer from a firm in Pennsylvania.The other works for a successful hedge fund in New York.They're both done so well for themselves.They're both stayed, more-less,on math-path. But not me. I've ditched my math aspirations a long time ago, for art. I don't think I was cut out for it anyway. My head is more in the clouds.
Two of them, on the other hand, were perfect for it. Smart,talented,hard-working...I believe they went to competitions and got awards in math and/or computer science.
My math knowledge has long left my head.I would really need a shock therapy to remember all the equations I had to know to finish high school with these guys.And they had As in math.I didn't.

Blueberry martinis and undigestable Mexican food

I had the most delicious martini tonight!And I wish I could say it was in this hip, hard-to-get-in club in New York, just to spice things up, but this one was home made. By our friends. They got a recipe from a bartender in Cape Cod. It's a blueberry martini, so it's actually good for you;-)Sorry, a shot of sarcasm, of course. But one is not going to hurt you,really.It's hard to stop at one though.I stopped at one and a half...because we had dinner reservations.
We went to this Mexican place, Rio Grande, which was mediocre at best.I realize that I'm not a big fan of Mexican food anymore.It always, virtually, makes me sick afterwords.It's like I've been eating rocks. And it wasn't that tasty anyway. No, I'm leaning toward the greener pastiers lately...french cuisine, tasty d-lite...
The evening was pleasant though. We met this interesting middle-aged couple and enjoyed back-and-forth conversation. These people are smart,unpretentious and kind. All you want in a new friend.
And now I won't be able to sleep anytime soon, because of the heaviness in my belly. I regret every single bite of that shrimp salad-Mexican style.I wonder if Mexicans are all overweight or suffering from cholesterol? Refried beans?Oh, please, like frying them once isn't bad enough!

Kosovo-War and Revenge

Tim Judah cleverly begins his book Kosovo: War and Revenge with three attention-grabbing articles. They are also compelling, real-life stories from the Kosovo war in 1999. Judah is an experienced journalist, which is evident in his balanced approach to a highly contentious and sensitive topic. One story is about Kosovo Albanians’ ordeals with Serbian security forces during the conflict, another is about the sufferings of Kosovo Serbs, and another is about Albanians again but with a portrayal of brave acts of compassion by Serbian soldiers. These stories quickly earn the author the trust and interest of the impartial reader. You cannot wait to read what else this well-respected writer-reporter has to reveal. And Judah fulfills the early promise of the book, with a knowledgeable, captivating, and easy-to-read account of the war.
Judah’s journalistic reputation precedes him, even before he gains the reader’s confidence in the book’s opening pages. He covered the conflict he’s writing about for the New York Review of Books, the London Observer, the Sunday Telegraph and the Guardian weekend magazine. He had been living in Belgrade for five years before the conflict in 1999. Judah also covered the previous wars in Croatia and Bosnia. He therefore clearly knows the region and its people. His book can even teach Serbs and Kosovo Albanians about their own history and character. He also made a lot of important contacts who make this book a rich read. He has covered all the angles. And as much as it might be hard for a Serb to admit, given its occasionally unflattering portrayal of Serbs, his book seems to be trustworthy.
Judah not only scrutinizes the activities of Serbian security forces, the Milosevic government, and Kosovo-Albanian insurgents, but those of NATO as well. And he backs his writing with many sources and many quotes. He gets into the minds of key figures in this conflict, including Yugoslav President Slobodan Milosevic, Serbian soldiers, the Kosovo Liberation Army, NATO Commander General Wesley Clark, senior American diplomat Richard Holbrooke, and high-level Russian officials.
As good as it is, Judah’s Kosovo isn’t perfect. He fails to address two important issues. He writes abundantly about what happened to Kosovo Albanians during the NATO intervention and what happened to Kosovo Serbs after the UN Security Council adopted Resolution 1244 and Serbian forces and police left Kosovo. However, he does not even mention the gray area, such as mixed marriages and harmonious relations between the two sides. Serbs and Albanians have been living in Kosovo, side by side, for centuries, most of the time peacefully. How did the legions of Serb-Albanians or Albanian-Serbs experience the war? What happened to those people? Or can you attribute Judah’s lack of attention to this issue to a widely shared opinion that Serbs and Albanians are like “oil and water” and to the even more prevalent, and mistaken, Western bias that all of the Yugoslav Wars were the result of the reawakening of ancient tribal hatreds?
The other important event he fails to include in his book is the cluster bombing of Nis, the large industrial city in southeastern Serbia. Judah writes about the NATO targets, the gray area between the military and the civilian targets, such as electrical plants and television stations that were bombed, but he failed to even mention the cluster bombs
NATO dropped on Nis’s City Hospital, local park and a green market near the city’s landmark--the best preserved 17th-century Ottoman fortress in Europe. That attack killed more than 80 civilians and it breached the Geneva Convention, a international statute that Judah mentions in other contexts. Other valuable accounts of the war, such as the PBS Frontline documentary, focus on these bombings as perhaps the biggest outrage of the NATO campaign. The cluster bombings happened later in the intervention, when, as Judah writes, NATO felt it needed to intensify the bombings due to Milosevic’s defiance and the world’s pressure over the large number of refugees from Kosovo. Did Judah not know about the attack when he wrote the book in 2000? The attack was all over the local Serbian media at the time. Did Judah not trust his Serbian sources enough to verify that the attack occurred?
However, Judah’s Kosovo has many more strong points than weaknesses. He is original, creative and perceptive in using an analysis of a Serbian medieval, epic poem Serbs are very proud of to dramatize his story. This poem describes a simple Albanian man who defies the Serbian prince, saying he will not bow to the Serbian nobility by removing himself from the road peacefully, and that he would not let the nobles’ procession pass without a fight. Judah comments that this poem has more to teach us about the history of Serb-Albanian relations than all the historians in the world. And he has a point.
Judah ends Kosovo with an ominous, yet clear-minded, look to the future. His spin on the future of Serbian and Albanian relations, in and around Kosovo, is a grim one, but expressed in a poetic way. What happened in Kosovo before, but especially in 1999, will not be forgotten by either nation. And Serbs are known for holding a grudge for a long time and for having the memory of “an elephant.” They did not, after all, ever forget their defeat at the famous battle of Kosovo in 1389. They might never forgive Albanians for taking away what Serbs believe rightfully belongs to them—Kosovo. And so, as Judah warns at the end of his book, the cycle of revenge could go on and on.

The Hamptons' cappuccino

If you want a great cappuccino, you go to Rome, or Southampton! I am not exaggerating, we had the best cappuccino since Rome, this weekend in Sant Umbroeus in Southampton.We stumbled upon this Italian confetteria, where the baristas have accents, skills and Italian temper. As a matter a fact, M.and I have witnessed an Italian quarrel, waiting for the bill.
The village of Southampton does not only have great coffee, but a lot of charm, good food and fudge, and variety of shopping. And the great beach,of course.
We explored a bit further-East Hampton, Montauk, Bridgehampton.We saw the Montauk Lighthouse and tasted vine at Duck Walk Vineyards.
It was a delightful trip. Beautiful countryside, beaches... No wonder the traffic back to New York was a nightmare. No one ever called New Yorkers dumb.

City's hidden treasures and thoughts

While exploring New York City streets today, I've caught myself wanting to say different things to people--"You're anorexic," "You look great!" "Can't you see you're too fat?!" or "Where did you get that great dress..."
I know what you're thinking right now--I need therapy? I don't actually say any of these things, not even the compliments or questions.I just think them. Don't worry, they're not going to slip.
I think a lot of people have the same urge. They don't act on it,which keeps us out of the asylum.
Anyway, New Yorkers stole another summer day today. I have really been enjoying unemployment for the last two days.I've been walking a lot and discovering the city's hidden treasures .For example,yesterday, I found this charming nick-knack store in Gramercy. I practically fell in love with it on the spot. People inside were warm and welcoming, the artsy, non-conventional decorations of any kind and amazing gifts in any corner.This store and its people really put the smile on my face. Just like that. And for that I had to buy something. And come back for more.

Acting boredom

I've started my acting education again last night. I really want to at least try to do some acting in New York, since it's always been one of my dreams.And what better place than New York,except for maybe L.A.But I don't see us living in L.A.ever.We're just not plastic at all.And I love food.And actually eating it, not just smelling it.
This is supposed to be a renowned acting studio.I'm inclined to trust the owner's reputation,despite the fact that trust is not in my nature.And the disbelief is enhanced by the movies of New York City.
So, since I really enjoyed my acting course in D.C.,I expected nothing less from this one. Alas,it did not happened.The class was way too long--four hours with one break--and way to slow for me. The warming up took too long, as well as the relaxation exercise. Come on, I'm not paying them to warm up! I can do that in my gym. Nor to relax and recall my childhood.That's what meditation is for, and therapists.
But,I'll hold my guns, kind of, since I still have a lot to learn. Maybe all that has a point, and will teach me how to act. And I really need to learn.
What I've learned was more that a year ago, plus I've never applied it.I went to my grad school,and used my brain for more practical things. That's why I still can't find a job.

The line ain't worth the wait

Have you ever seen that episode of "Sex and the city" where Carrie's computer crashes and she's waiting for her number called at a computer repair shop? That's not fiction. That really happens in this city. Actually,something similar happened to M. and I last night.
We wanted a DVR cable box, so we can record our favorite shows. For M.-the soccer, for me-Law and Order, Damages, Grey's anatomy...
So, I decided to actually go to a cable company's location rather than waiting for them to come over.I thought it would be easy, it's close enough, plus I don't have to wait around for five hours and pay them extra money.
But some time and money are worth spending. When we got there, 25 minutes before the closing, there was a huge line in front of the entrance.
What a shock that was! I didn't expect any line .Of course, I've never done this kind of thing before, certainly not in N.Y.C.
Right there and then, I deeply regretted not waiting for a cable guy while watching TV or writing my blog. But, again, a little too late.
So we decide to wait. After all, we did bring the box with us.
The wait outside was just the beginning. When you get inside, you get a number, and the fun begins.
There was an even bigger line of sitting people, waiting for their number to be called. "Now serving number 680," an automatized voice said as we were trying to find a non-existent seat. Have I mentioned that both of us were starving?
We had 721. I was so frustrated, angry at myself for trying to do some things faster and more cost effectivly than they probably should be. Whenever I try to save some time or money, I always, always end up wasting more.
We watched as people were passing by, to be served by the representatives. I was criticising every one's speed or actions. We were trying to use water to hold us over. And to joke about it after a while. A lot of number holders weren't there.My guess was- they got the number, saw the line, did the math...
Finally, after a bit more than 20 minutes inside, on an empty stomach, we got our much bigger cable box, and happily went on our quest for a nearby food source.

From Bush to Barack

As much as I was happy about my picture with the President, I'm a much bigger fan of Barack Obama.I even wanted to volunteer, but his team wanted me to go to New Hampshire and back in one day?!In a car?!And pay myself for it?!I don't think so.So I ended up not going to the training, since it was also supposed to be a weekend marathon.That was probably a mistake, I realize now. I know,spilled milk...
But, I did go to his rally in Washington Square Park last week.I was very excited about showing my support in Clinton's backyard, plus about a possibility of getting another great picture for my blog!
So I walked for a long time, got myself a horrible cappuccino to go(I didn't know it's going to be that bad)from Le Pain Quotidien, and entered the park.The volunteers directed me toward an incredibly long line. A line, in a park, for the rally? O,yes, there were thousands of people waiting to go through a metal detector, in order to see and hear Obama.
The organization was ridiculous!Only one metal detector,I suspect, since I couldn't have seen it from the back of one of the lines, for thousands of people?!Many gave up after realizing that it would take them two hours just to get to the security point. I patiently stayed in the line, even though the bad cappuccino made me really thirsty and my legs started hurting, until M.called: "I'll find you," he said. "You can't find me, I'm in the middle of a line,!"I responded frustratingly. There was no way he could've come to me. A million people behind me wouldn't let him. Also, my legs were angry at me. So I left the line.I t was disappointing not to see Obama after being in a line for more than an hour, plus walking for another half, just to get to the Park. All I really wanted at that point was to sit down. And have a drink.
The N.Y.Times reported that there were about 25,000 people at the rally.That seems right. What I don't know is if they counted another 5,000 who left before it actually really started.Pitty I was one of them.

The man himself!

I met the Man today!It was such an adrenaline rush, you know, like a shot of power.
It was not easy to get close to him, as you can imagine, and have our picture taken. Even though I'm not a big fan of his politics, his speech today and his general demeanor impressed me. He is more impressive in person, as one of our co-waiters said, than on TV.
He was smiling, laughing at other people's jokes,and joking himself before being very natural with the crowd trying to shake his hand and have a picture to brag to their grandchildren about. Hey, he was even taking audience's digital cameras and giving them to the special service, who served as photographers, as if their job is not already hard enough.
He almost missed me, in a hungry, lustful crowd. We called him several times before he turned around, shook my hand and smiled for the flash.
I really enjoyed the moment. Maybe I should go into politics.This power rush really has its kick.

U.N.traffic

New Yorkers have stolen another summer day. It was awash for the frantic U.N.traffic. It took me a half an hour of my life, plus a nausea, to get to the 90s and see my doctor. The ride was long and bumpy.
It's like the whole world came down on New York this week.A little bit of close by shopping I did this morning, to scare of my virus,was less pleasurable because of the packed stores. So U.N. people also like to shop, not only save the world?
Or maybe it's the tourist, tourist season.
I feel a tad better, but better in general since I've seen a doctor.Hopefully it is an earthly virus, not an E.T. bacteria in my throat.What ever you are, beware.I have a firm intention on killing you.
Tomorrow is the day I was looking forward to for a while.
I'm going to a reception, and I love receptions, plus I have an interview with an acting coach.It's time to shake things a little bit.I just hope I feel well.Fingers crossed. The update-tomorrow!

New York virus

I woke up at 5:30 a.m. with a sharp pain in my throat. "Not again," I thought, "I was just sick." I wasn't interested in sleeping anymore.
I called my best friend. My Mom. "You have to see a doctor," she confirmed my suspicion.
I hate going to a doctor.I spent half of my stay in Serbia in doctors' offices. It's such a waste. But here, here you need to plan your illness in order to be able to see a doctor. I called several today, and I still don't have an appointment.
Where I come from, you KNOW doctors. You're nice to them. You bring them gifts. In exchange, you don't wait in line. Or you pay, but schedule within hours. Very convenient.
So,I'm sick again, with no prospects of seeing one soon. Unless a divine intervention lets me make an appointment tomorrow. How exciting!

Moma, and too modern take 3

We payed our beloved Moma another visit yesterday.
Of course, I wanted to see my darling impressionists again, but M. wanted to see something modern. "O.k.," I said, "let's see something new."
The fifth floor is modern American art. Or at least what some people call art. Like Warhol.I'm sorry, but that's not art.
Art is, by my own definition, something extraordinary beautyful.Extrodinary.And beautiful.Warhol and friends are not either.That's kitch.I know, I know, it's called "Pop-art."Aah...nope!
I knew I should've written the names of the "fifth floor friends." For example, one of them has "painted" a whole canvas orange, and then drew one line across?! That's art? A five-year-old can do that! I can do that, and I cannot paint! It's ridiculous what people would waste their money and time on. Oops,aha,...I'm one of those people. In my defense, I did try to rush through it as fast as I could.
Oh, yes, another example of this modern art-a whole white painted canvas! That's it, that's art, my friend! Go to Moma's fifth floor and see it for yourself.'Cause frankly, I wouldn't believe it myself.

Dreaming of Serbia, happily back in New York

I'm back in New York City. It's good to be back. Really.
As much as I enjoyed spending time with my family, I missed my life here...
The trip back was the longest one so far. Not objectively. It just seemed to me that way.Maybe because I'm older this year. Significantly.
I got anxious and stiff.Certain parts of my body were numb and numbing.Even the "Ocean's Thirteen" couldn't distract me from my ailment.And the time was passing so slowly.
When we finally arrived to JFK, there was a zoo waiting. I've never seen so many U.S.citizens and permanent residents in one line before.
But the fun didn't stop there. Exhausted and about to fall asleep standing up, I had to wait for my luggage for about half and hour before it never showed up!
And, as romantic as the exit could've been, with M.waiting with the smile and flowers, I had to think about the paper work I still needed to do, before I can finally, finally go home.
I did get an overnight kit. A XL white T-shirt to sleep in. No night cream. I didn't care.
The sight and warmth of my grown, beautiful, purry kitty an hour later made me deliriously happy. I drifted into dreams within a half an hour and--dreamt about Serbia all night long...

I saw an old, good friend today. We had a couple of drinks and caught up with our lives. But we are different people a since the last time we saw each other. Our worlds are different, our lives are different. We still managed to share couple of moments on this earth together again.
It's funny how you can be away from someone for years, and you can still talk, really talk to each other as if nothing has changed. There are these vibes we share with certain people, and not the others. And no matter how much you change, or how much you drift apart, you can still always talk, for hours. And you can always find something to talk about.
I'm one of those people who gets bored easily.But I mean easily. "Dosadno je(It's boring)"is the most common frase I use. It makes me feel lucky to know a handful of people who I can never find boring, and a bit sad not to be able to share more of my life with them. They are precious, even though they live in another world. And one needs a special kind of key to enter it.
Well, we unlocked it today again, after a while, and it's up to both of us if we'll ever use the same key again.Or will we just let the weight of our every day people and life bury what we rediscovered today.
At the end, it's all up to us and how much we value our friendship.

High school interview

I was interviewed today. Again.I say again, because when my books came out, I was an interviewee many times.I actually like it.I like talking about myself, as long as I have something significant to say.
My interviewer was a senior in my former high school. The school paper is interested in me since, according to them, "I made it."
Made it how? I think, a definition of success in my big, but Southern city, is to leave it. And not starve to death. In that case, yes, I made it.
Also,I think getting a Masters in the States is a big deal for them. I get that. It's big deal for me too.
Marta, a wanna-be-journalist, is a cute 18 year-old woman. I actually wrote a girl first, since she's definitely one, but I don't want to be politically incorrect. She seemed kind and interested in what I have to say.I was afraid that I'll bore her from time to time. She's volunteering anyway.
I tried to be brief but answer all the questions. She really didn't have many. I guess I said it all.
At a point I was struggling with what else to say. I know I did a lot in my 31 years of age, but somehow, not everything came in mind then.
Of course, I thought of things I could've and should've said, but only when we got up, since an hour or so had passed, our bottoms were sore from sitting on a wooden bench in the high school club and I had an appointment with my dentist in an hour.
I did promise to send a photo. They couldn't find a camera.It's better this way anyway, I get to choose my picture that will accompany the article.
It was fun, really, and flattering. I mean,I was Marta just 12 years ago. Twelve years ago?! Oh ,God, I'm so old. You are old when you get to say that you did something 10 or more years ago...Kidding, of course. Don't stop reading me just because I wrote this:-)

Villages and other worlds

My parents insisted on going to this small village just outside the city, and taking advantage of a beautiful day. You can't take those for granted. I'm all for that, but I wouldn't quite waste it on a visit to a village. Unless it's in Italy. Or France.
My mother doesn't take NO for an answer. So, out we go. The plan was to visit a monastery and then have lunch. This village is famous for good food.Good food in Serbia means good meat. And a lot of it. For me it means good kajmak,home-made bread and sopska salad.Yummy!
The monastery turned out to be probably the smallest one in history. One small church, and closed too. The priests were having lunch in a fixer-upper, up the hill. They pointed us to, what it seemed to be, an old brick construction, which has a small door on the side of the road. It is an old, old church. It's quite charming.Tiny, but very peacful and genuine. Old icons stairing back at us.
We lit the candles, for the living and the dead, and went on our way.
I haven't changed that much since I was a kid, in certain ways.I never liked villages, nor suburbs. I still don't.I find them boring.I can go, but I really need to be motivated,and not stay there for more than three hours. That's my wall. I hit it, regularly. Unless, again, they are in Spain.

We had a tiny party to kind of celebrate my Masters degree.It's a big deal for my family.I believe to be the first one in a large tribe to get such a prestigious education. No one seems to even note that I got it in my non-native language,and in my non-native but resident country.But that's o.k. I do dream in English anyway.
Serbian way of showing up to parties is usually with an hour of a buffer.The other thing is that a lot of people had "words" with other people,so some of them preferred to come tomorrow. Some of the invitees had other obligations and self invited themselves for tomorrow.So, a couple-of-hours party turned out into a two day thing. How Serbian!
I did enjoy catching up with my high school professors.It's a totally different relationship now, between us, and it's true what people say-you only remember the good things.At least about my high school days.But it also made me feel a little bit uncomfortable, going back to my past so deep and so far.I live in a different world than they do.I partly chose it that way, it partly happened by itself.While one of my professors was telling me what others do, it seemed to me that they are still friends.I, on the other hand, have lost touch with, literally, all of them.It made me wonder:"Am I so different? Is it all me? "
Two of them even got married a year or so ago!They spent four years as friends,survived long term relationship and broken marriage with other people,and felt in love with each other during a reunion?!Isn't that an amazing story!The strangest things happen to people.You just can't tell.
I can't even imagine what the party, part two, will reveal about my former mates.

Sleepless in Nis

I can't fall asleep. Again. I'm suffering from an eight day old jet leg. Or I just have so many things on my mind.Probably the latter.
This so-called vacation turned out to be much more and less than planned.
I got sick. I certainly didn't plan that. The weather is getting better but it's definitely not summer anymore in Serbia.
And being here without M. after so many years makes me feel weird and a bit out of place. I know, it's silly, since this is where I lived for 26 years, until I moved to the capital. But so many changes happened since then.I haven't been in Nis without M. since 2002.
Things are different when I'm here alone.I'm not used to that anymore.I don't know how to handle it.I feel artificially single.I can't explain it.But it is a small burden.Friends have changed, moved on, so have I, but with M. And now I'm reviving these old friendships just because he's not here. Otherwise, we have our own enjoyable routine, in this habitat. Now I'm all by myself in this city of my childhood and growing up. Admit it, it's a little bit scary.

Sunshine on the side, please...

Another depressive, rainy, cold Serbian day!I literally cannot believe my bad luck.All of those things I was longing for about this city are hard or almost unachievable with such bad weather.You know, hanging out in outdoor cafes and strolling along the walking street...
I was so unhappy today.I miss M. too much, plus the muddy,gray day doesn't exactly help. After I soaked the only fall pants I brought by accident, I decided to cancel other engagements and drown in my desperation. I was watching TV and napping.Hardly worth an almost 24 hour trip.
I'm not being fair, actually.I do enjoy spending more time with my family because of the weather. I just wish I'm in a better mood doing so, or at least with a little sunshine on the side.

Hooked

Another sunny day in Serbia.Not warm enough for me, but cozy.The cafes have opened, people have gone out,everything's back to life. But not for long, according to the forecast.Serbia in the fall is not the best place to be. Summer is!
I find myself much more creative in New York City.I wonder if I'm in "I'm on a vacation, I should be resting" mode, or just a writer's block.I usually know what to write about when I face the screen.
I met an old friend today. We had coffee, chatted, caught up...It was fun!I went shopping.Fun again! More shopping...
Spent a lot of time with my family.Talked to more friends, scheduled more coffees.I realized, in a course of this year, I became a coffee drinker!I've never been one before.I would occasionally had a Moka something, but more for the chocolate that for the coffee taste.But now, I need it to wake me up in the morning,I crave it in the afternoon...Am I hooked?I don't wanna be.I've always looked at people hooked on coffee, cigarettes, alcohol, whatever, as weak,and in a way, I pity them.Did I become one? No, of course not.I don't have to have coffee.I just want it.
I can live without it.It's not like with M. Now, there, there I'm really hooked...

High school memory

It was a beautiful day in South-East Serbia. Sunny, warm, fresh...
All of a sudden, everything looked brighter.
I took a stroll with my mother, I saw some relatives, I met a high school professor on a street-one of the things I love about being back in my home town.Last I've seen her was during my book promotion in October 2002.
She hasn't aged a bit!Have you ever met one of those people who don't grow older?At least they don't look like they do.She's also advanced professionally-she's the head of the school now.A very impressive woman.
She invited me over to the school and I gladly accepted.You see, they know me there, they all remember me.That really feels great!
I love the fact that I'm hard to forget.

Greetings from Serbia!

Welcome back!S
Sorry I was away.I had a long,exhausting trip to Serbia,which enhanced the notorious jet-leg.
This trip, so far, has not been what I hoped for.
For one, my mom was sick. She's better now, thank God. Now my sister is sick.Nothing serious, hopefully, but it's gets the G, out of good mood.
And three, the weather, for the lack of a better word, sucks!
It is cold, and cloudy, rainy, really depressing. So far, two days, and no long strolls on the walking street or hanging out in outdoor cafes with friends-the gems of any good Serbian holiday, or visit home.
I did have a fun dinner with my extended family.It was great to see them all together, again!
Also, not much is open on Sunday here.People here take the day of rest seriously.I'll see an old friend tomorrow and that's probably it.
I have too much energy, even when I'm jet-legged.Hanging out at home almost all day long is not my thing. Makes me feel nervous and depressed.Or is it something else?
Hopefully, the weather should improve Monday.Let the vacationing begin!