Precision Packing

I am sure you've all had those moments when stuff just wouldn't fit. Tonight I was on the verge of looking up that awesome packing video on youtube (but didn't, until after). But years of scouting (and for those of you who know me, years packing too much) have brought me to the new level: now I sometimes shave down what I'll bring.

I am still wondering if not taking running shoes was a right idea, but only time will tell, I guess. I did bring the rest. BRING IT ON, WIZZAIR!
Before:

After:

And just to be clear: things on the right on the after picture are going in my pockets. And the disc could've potentially fitted in as well.

And that's it. If you haven't, you really should check out "Packing Like a Pro" on youtube.

UN investigates Zwarte Piet for racism?

Well, with great cultural power comes great er... respon... err.. complications.

Below, excerpts. See more here.

A letter (published by NRC) from the Chair-Rapporteur from the Working Group on people of African descent stated that the UN has received information that the character and image Zwarte Piet perpetuate a stereotyped image of African people and people of African descent as second-class citizens, fostering an underlying sense of inferiority within Dutch society and stirring racial differences as well as racism.

He added that the government is aware the people’s opinions of the festival differ and that "the Dutch government is aware that 'Black Pete' is considered by some to be offensive." He also noted that complaints to anti-discrimination offices about Zwarte Piet have been increasing in recent years: from three or four a year in Amsterdam up to 2010, then 113 in 2011 and a record 204 in 201[2].

Henk Leegte, who organises the Amsterdam procession, said he is happy to discuss possible changes with protestors in January. He also says he understands their objections to the curly hair, black make-up, red lips and gold earrings. "I can personally propose beginning by giving one hundred out of the five hundred Piets a different appearance," he said. It is, however, it is too late to make changes this year, as the procession is due to take place on November 17.

From: United Nations investigates Zwarte Piet for racism (23 October 2013, by Alexandra Gowling): http://www.iamexpat.nl/read-and-discuss/expat-page/news/united-nations-investigates-zwarte-piet-racism-netherlands#sthash.BF98C35s.dpuf

Clowns in the morning hours (or A'dam - Ede - Arnhem - Ede)

I had a VERY interesting night. It finished at 06:40 AM. :)

So I go on the train, right, to Ede-W. I nod off between Driebergen and Veenendaal; whooh, that was close. "Should maybe stay awake for the next stop," I think to myself. Yeah, about that.

As it's only 5 minutes, I should've just ... got up, walk around a bit, stand by the door.

  Well, I didn't.

Instead, I wake up in Arnhem. On the last train of the night. Whoops. I get out, too sleepy to even remember to ask the conductors, when the next train is leaving or what the taxi number is or if, by chance, one of them lives in Ede.. So I go out and think a bit - with a slight drizzle, I go to stand below a nice tree. I put on some extra clothes (thank god for layers! (I had a nice shirt with me, and additional thin sweater, so good on me:)) and I see a naked man, walking down the street.

I mean, either he was naked or he had a see-through everything. I was pretty sure I could see some "bouncy-action" happening down THERE. Anyway, I can only see him for 10 seconds or so, as he goes into this alley and vanishes. This wakes me up completely and puts a huge smile on my face: life is crazy indeed! I will never say "I've seen it all," because life just keeps bringing up surprises for me:)

Anyways, I decided to check the train station again, for train schedule (why I went to a nearby park was .. well, I needed to get some of the tea we had, out), but it was closed. Euuh, OK. So I put on some music and as that didn't work for me, I put on a really nice podcast (Stuff to blow your mind) - just geeky and serious enough for me.

So I walk around, right, Arnhem - phuh, what's there to see at 2 AM? I check some store fronts, see three shops selling wedding dresses (apparently they are a huge thing in Arnhem - not the dresses, they're normal, the weddings, I mean), a games shop, etc. A guy on a motorcycle passes me twice. I mark him down as a potential threat to look out for. (Or just a local dude with nothing to do.)

So I walk down the street and a guy with two white bags in his hand looks like he's just closing up for the night. By the look of the bags, he's got Chinese or some food shop. We pass each-other, I say "hi!" and as he almost goes into his car, he turns around and asks: "hhfas fsahlkjfasldj". Mhm? I took my earphones out and ask him: "I'm sorry, what?"

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

I'm like: "Well, yes, a bit."

"Here, take this." He gives me a bag of fries! "It's not so warm anymore," he adds after a fashion.

"Wow, thanks! Thank you!" I reply and start eating it, as I continue my walk. I wave to him as he drives off and give him the (hopefully) international sign of 'dude, this is great!': OK sign. I hope he saw it, and didn't think I was giving him the thumb due to the fries indeed being warm and not hot.

As I walk further, I meet two cats, second one of which I hopefully fed 3 fries (or else, they're just there on the pavement still). I find a bench and sit, then lie down. It's 3:15 now. Jeez, "this is going to be a long night," I think to myself.

Lonely cars and trucks keep waking me up, but I manage to nod off in between. I'm nervous about the cops. Just in general, you know, nodding off in the street is frowned upon and I just want to get back home, no trouble and no questions asked.

"HEEEEE HEEEEEE HAAAAEEEEE HAAAEEEE!" two cars rolling down from the side street, just behind me. Just two retards, having fun and either trying to wake me or trying to wake people in the alley. Dicks. (I'm sorry, but they probably were.)

3:45. Ok, time to start back to the station. (I was kind of hoping the first trains would be there at 4:30, but a tiny voice kept saying: yeah, you wish. It's probably more like after 5 or so.)

So I start back, with another podcast and as I near the centre of Arnhem, I see this guy, in flippy-floppies, a shirt, two Amstel beers and a woolen sweater on his shoulder. He’s drunk, obviously. I sort of try to avoid him (not because I would be afraid, but because I too easily get into lengthy discussions with drunken people, preachers and elders), but he goes like: “Hey, you want a beer?”

  (Man, Arnhem at night is like, get-stuff-for-free heaven.)

I say that sure, the closed one. He goes: “What? Closed one! Are you Dutch!?”
After we establish, that no, but some of it might have rubbed off on me in the past year and a half, I say I’m from Slovenia.

He says his father, when separated from his mum, is now living for 10 years in Slovenia. OK, what does he do, I ask, as we are walking along the street.

He’s a circus man, the guy replies.

It turns out that the guy, Josma, is also a clown and a performer. And he goes: “Wow, the stars maan, they tell stuff, you know?”

I think: well, this is going to be interesting.

“Let’s go and make a fire!”
  I’m slightly dubious, as I don’t want to be the lead character of a front-cover matter in national newspapers, you know, just trying to find my way back home. But then he mentions “fire-pit”, which sounds more controlled, and “outside the town, in the fields”, which totally sounds more scary (than it actually was at the time).
 

As he said before that the first train leaves at 5:31, and it’s now about 4 AM, and as he looks harmless, I sort of go along. We end up walking next to the Arnhem’s park (Sonsbeek) and I ask him about the house on the hill. He says it’s now a restaurant, but that a young, 19 year-old lieutenant lived there and went to India and she hanged herself when he didn’t come back.
  Sorry, what? … After some explaining, I piece together a story of a lieutenant who apparently went missing and his young wife waiting for him, and hanging herself in her white dress (what’s with Arnhem and wedding dresses!?) from that top ledge – you see, just there?

And we go to the mill, and he explains about it and how he slept on the ridge in the roof, and we jump a fence and walk along; he tells me of animals that live in the ponds and how kids get assignments from the mill/centrum and go and find animals and plants and write down what they see. Aaw, that’s nice. Cool.
  Then we come to this larger pond, where some ducks are sitting, and some are standing in the water. I dismissed it, as they were probably standing on some ledge in the water.

Then he tells me: “There’s this path here, you can walk onto the island! You can walk on the water!! … I just have to find it!”

And I see the place where the ducks were: “I think it’s here, but …”

And before I can stop him, he’s already on it, ankle-deep.

Sigh. Ok, get ready, I say to myself, might be you’ll be rescuing the guy at some point. But hey, I still got 45 mins to kill and why notJ?

So he starts edging further into the water, now it’s slightly deeper, he’s all happy about it (who wouldn’t be, walking on water, like that, albeit slightly drunk) and he turns back to me and shouts:
“I can’t swim!”

Euh, what? “Sorry, did you say that you CAN or that you CAN NOT swim?”

The answer is even more doubtful:
“I can…(t), the DUCKS told me!”

Sigh. Ok, I’m getting mentally ready, might be some rescu-

and he’s gone. Flipped into the water. Of course.

I wait a second or two, before I start taking clothes off, but he’s back up, scrambling onto the treacherous pathway. He’s coming back towards me, all dripping and like a water-zombie. Huffing and puffing like one, as well.

It’s a comical sight, and I can’t suppress some laughter, but it’s all good natured.

On the way home now – I decide to accompany him, especially, after he mentions that he should not get hypothermia, and that he’s got minutes. (I’m thinking, well, it’s not that cold, and he should be fine, if we keep moving, but who knows, maybe he’s more experienced in this?)

And I find out about his wife (and that she won’t be too happy about this, oh, no) and daughter, and what he does and how he once put on a tall pair of stilts and went on a skateboard, downhill. I’m like, Jesus, really? “Yeah,” he says, “it was winter!”

Larks.

At the end, we part at his house and we shake hands again, and he starts telling me of his company (Verder Nog Iets) and half out of interest, half out of courtesy, and half out of already thinking I should have some proof of this night’s adventure (hey, back off about the halves, eh, it was late – now 5 AM) I want to write down his name.
“Nooo, wait, I’ll get you my card!”
“No, really, it’s fine, I’ll just write it here-“ And I realise I can’t, cause I don’t know how to spell it. And neither does he, so he – despite my insisting that nooo, you’ll wake up your wife, it’s fine – goes in to get his card.

So now I’ve got this 3 postcards (which are also business cards) of him and his girlfriend/wife at home. Want some? Write to me, I’ll send itJ.

I believe redonkulous is the word we are searching for, to describe this night in Arnhem.

PS – Got home safely, caught the first train and nearly fell asleep again. Had my bike at Ede station, and even though the first bus was 13 minutes away, I still cycled home, quite content with this night’s adventure … and the niceness of the evening before – but that’s another story.

Best university in the Land

And this is where I study. Meh, yeah, it's pretty cool. The education, not the lusciousness of the town, I mean:)

The best university in the Netherlands is based in Wageningen, say students. The National Student Survey 2013 shows that the students of Wageningen University are more satisfied with their education than students from other universities.

http://www.wageningenur.nl/en/show/Students-Wageningen-best-Dutch-university.htm

Google Translate says eat flavor corpse

Er...
this is why language is more than just the sum of its parts. (As are many things in life, true. (Or rather, life itself.))

About a month ago I tried to converse in Dutch way more than I do now (I was taking a course and now ... well, lets just say May and Queensday and many, too many holidays, feestdagen have taken their toll on me).
  And at one point, I wanted to wish someone a nice meal. I thought to check before I write it, since I wasn't sure about the -e. Well, you can see the result below. :)

Holland --> the Netherlands

Iz članka na Wikipediji:

The Netherlands in its entirety is often referred to as Holland, although North and South Holland are actually only two of its twelve provinces (a case of pars pro toto; see terminology of "the Netherlands").

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Netherlands

Re: Kako pa tebi kaže kej v nedhlandh?

Tle je kar kul, všeč mi je vreme (in to ni sarkazem). Kul je, ker se vsi furajo s kolesi, ne glede na to, kako je fizikalno stanje (oz. spreminjanje stanja) okolja - pri minus 5, plus 10, 20, dež, sneg, megla, drizzle, you name it.

Univerza je hecna - v dobrem smislu. Hecno upiljeno profesionalna. Imamm svojga (vsak izmed 8000 študentov ga ima) svetovalca za študij, ki mi pomaga oblikovat moj študij, reče naa-a, če ni dobro in predlaga alternative (glej priponko). Pol mi ga mora potrdit pa še odbor.

"Zgubim" pa precej časa na prevozih: 1,5 h v eno smer je, če grem z busom (ker je 6 eurov, probam to čim večkrat naredit), cca. 1h10min, če grem z vlakom in nato kolesom (vlak je 7,10 v eno smer, zato se temu izogibam) in 50 min, če grem z vlakom in busem (7,10 + 2 ...). Butast je, k na avtobusu ne morem brat (mi rata slabo, tle je pouhn turkov voznikov ... sej veš, orientalisti in nihova vožnja:), vlak traja pa 25 min, skor nima veze. Pa še draži je.

Včeri sem šel celo drugič tečt, odkar sem tukaj, kar je kar dobrodošlo momentarno povečanje stopnje metabolizma za moj telo in predihanje mišic. Sam moram večkrat, sem čist zaseden.

Sicer pa flet ni ravno poceni - 400 € na osebo, je pa vse vključeno. Khem, postelja je bla fuč in smo jo zamenjali, pa zdej ga pralni stroj nekaj serje, ampak je kul. Pravo malo roza-zeleno kraljestvo (don't ask).

Več pa naslednjič, eh?

Lp, in fajn bodi tam dol,
A

Antony And The Johnsons

After spending a fortnight in The Netherlands, I am finally having a nice, relaxing weekend. Coming back to Groningen is always nice. En effet, coming to any city you feel a "tingle for", is nice. And unless you've experienced some crazy sh***, you always feel something for the city/place you spent your Erasmus student exchange in.

So, when begining this blog in ole September 2010, I had this idea to change the name of it, whenever I travel extensively. Louis and The Primers was the first thing that flashed out at the begining of my Erasmus experience and well, just this weekend, I've had an unintended suggestion for a new name.

Thus, I give you: Antony and the Johnsons, which is, by the way, a really nice band.
See this: Fistful of love (jazz/rock) and this: Hope there's someone (niiice).

Thank you, R.!

Amsterdam flatsearch

V nobenem primeru vam ne privoščim iskanja stanovanja v Amsterdamu (ali Utrechtu, kamor morda greva).

Včeraj sva komaj dobila en ogled stanovanja; ful fajn, samo tista soba, ki bi jo midva imela (itak da je deljeno stanovanje, še s 2-mi ljudmi), nima pokrivala/vrat na stopnicah ... tako da bi ... se vse slišalo. + Če bi kdo kuhal, bi pomojem vohala vedno. Aja, cena: 700 eur / mesec za sobo + deljeno stanovanje. Pa še 700 eur je agency fee za posredovanje. Pa 700 eur plačaš za polog lastniku (ajde, štekam).

Dans sva bila pa na marketu - mmmm, super. Imava svež kruh, zelenjavo za cel teden (jap, jutri se še enkrat seliva, tak da bo še zabavno), ananas za 1 € (čist normalen, sam pač ni AlbertHeijn, ampak tržnica) in trije avokadi za 1 € (guacamole bo za večerjo + losos, tudi đabe).

Zdej kosilo in iskanje fleta po netu naprej, popoldne pa še en ogled. Bomo vidli.
Heel moi!

100 kmn/h

Pred odhodom je bilo še celo vesolje stvari za narest. Izselit sebe. Izselit naju. Dobit nekoga za stanovanje, spakirat, napakirat, pojest ene par zadnjih kosil in večerij. Za frizerja, recimo, ni bilo časa. Pa sej mam mašino s seboj. That oughta do.

Pot gor je bila zabavna - N. je dan pred odhodom spala med 8:30 in 9:30 uro, urco popoldne; jaz od 4h do 9:30. Zvečer ona med 23. in 4:30, jaz nič. Pol sva pa na dve uri vožnje menjala, vmes je pa drugi spal/jedel. Ekonomično.

Sva ga pa kar šopala - 120 - 140 km/h, oz. 100 kmn/h. Torej 100 kamionov na uro. Sem štel. Možn, da sem se zmotu in da sem štel samo pol ure. V tem primeru sva vozila vsaj 200 kmn/h! Vau, a?! :)

Moja Nizozemska v številkah

Številke so KUL. To vam lahko potrdi vsak, ki je vsaj malce zaljubljen v njih, skoraj vsak, ki študira matematiko ali fiziko in še nekaj biokemikov, kemikov in biologov. Pa geologov. Pa strojnikov, pa ... v končni fazi, žal, tudi ekonomistov. The list goes on.

No, če so vam všeč številke ali ne, je tole po mojem precej zanimivo:

Moj Erazmus v številkah:
Trajal je 162 dni. O urah in minutah, zaradi spoštovanja do relativnosti časa, ne bom.
Porabil sem:

2 šampona - oz. je v vsakem še mičkeno. (Sem imel enga na faksu in enga doma.)

5 zobnih ščetk

X denarja. O točni številki zaradi spoštovanja do očeta in sebe ter gospodarstev nekaterih malih držav sveta, ne bom.

1 pakungo soli

(n-1) pašte

(n+3) kebabov

pogledal m filmov

pogledal celih 5 sezon in unih 16 delov, kolikor jih je bilo 6. sezone HIMYM (How I met your mother)

2 kolesni zračnici, eno feltno in eno ključavnico ter 2 luči

kupil sem 2 x 12 rolc WC papirja

prebral 7? knjig in veliko (insert citation) več člankov

potoval 7x z vlakom in 6x (8x, če štejem še Prihod in Odhod) z avtom

Šel več kot 20x tečt; 12x od tega je štelo na iPodu: skupaj 85,86 km, 11 ur teka.

Ponosil ene čevlje. (Sam do konca. In ne od začetka.)

kupil dvoje čevlje, tri srajce, štiri puloverje, eno kravato (imeli smo nastop, pa sem rabu eno rdečo..) in ene rokavice.

Šel 3x v Ikeo, 2x v kino, 2x v "gozd" in 1x do morja.

Pot domov:

1454,6 km (212 od tega od Groningena do Utrechta; na roadtripu zgolj 1242 km očitno.

povprečna poraba 7,3 L/100 km*

povprečna hitrost: 110,2 (113,2!**) km/h

tankala sva 4x (tako da je sedaj še zmerom za 600 km v tanku - hvala, Jasna!

* Začela sva z 7,4; nato sva v Nemčiji zgroženo ugotovila, da imava 9,1 povprečno porabo ... in zmanjšala iz 160 km/h na ene 110 ... in potem do Ljubljane spravila na 7,3.***
**Če ne bi bilo Avstrije in nato Slovenije, ki pač obe, presenetljivo, nista Nemčija, bi bilo povprečje veliko višje.
*** Danes sem naredil še izletič v Cerklje in v Tržič, tako da je sedaj poraba 7,1! Whodaman!

Roadtrip 2

Po 1454,6 km, odkar sem zapustil Groningen ...
Od 7:40 v Utrechtu do 20:40 Ljubljana, pri porabi 7.4 -> 9.1 (whooops!) -> 8 ... -> 7.4 in -> 7.3 L/100 km,
pri povprečni hitrosti 110,2 km/h (to je bla ta k* Avstrija - po Nemčiji sva imela 113,2 km/h povprečno)
in s polnim tankom (za 675 km) - HVALA JASNA! -
lahko rečem, da moja soba diši fenomenalno.
Spaaaat!

Bravo Krištof! Lepi sta bili, Lucija in Maria! Bruno, svaka čast!

Roadtrip ... in fotoaparat, ki gre 110 km/h

Po skoraj prekrokani noči in bujenju 2x v tistih nekaj urah teme, kolikor jih je bilo pred novim dnem, (bujenju s strani najprej Aleja, za zvonenje katerega sem najprej mislil, da je le pijanec ali študenti (ali kombinacija) in mu zato nisem odprl prvič (pozabil je ključe oz. je bil tako pijan (očitno sem imel prav;), da je bodisi pozabil, da jih sploh ima, bodisi ni našel ključavnice) in nato še njegovih "homies", latino prijateljev iz Amsterdama, ki sem jih moral najprej potolažiti, da je pravo stanovanje, da sem le cimer),
smo spakirali in spravili iz stanovanja končno do pol druge ure, ko so se Tequila Gentlemen ravno odpravljali v popotovanje do WC-ja, Do Velike Mašine, ki Dela Močno Črno Toplo Pijačo in podobno (pillow fight), torej s samo enourno zamudo; pobrali Santosa (Lucijinega fanta), tankali predrago (1,67 € na liter - pač na Nizozemskem ne vozijo zamanj koles in pač, če ste si kdaj rekli: "Čuj, kaj če bi se usedli v avto in šli kr v eno državo, tankali in prišli nazaj?" Nizozemska res ni dežela za to) in jo pičili proti Utrechtu.
Pogovori o kravah in konjih, ki zgledajo kot krave, pevcih in marsičem so nas pripeljali tri četrt poti, ko je dogajanje prekinilo najprej bučanje vetra, nato šumenje vrečke, nato pa besede Lucie: "Heeyy! Aliać, nekaj je padlo ven! Zakaj si odprl okno (nisem)?" Ko zapeljemo na stran in ustavimo, se izkaže, da je šlo za modro tobrico ... požrem slino in sebično upam, da je bila njena (okno je nevede odprla ona) ... nope! Bila je torbica fotoaparatom. Laufam nazaj (ene minuto pa pol, ker ... pri 110 km/h prideš precej hitro precej daleč - kdo bi si mislil) in ta-daaaaa: aparat cel in DELA. Torbica mal obrajsana, ampak ... dela. (Vmes so mimo zdrveli eni trije šleparji pa ene 26 avtomobilov ... in na srečo zgrešili.)
TURISTIČKA SVAKA ČAST!
P.S.: Torbica je znamke UNOMAT.

References

Ko ti teče voda v grlo in moraš itak napisat še pol poročila, ker si komaj prejšnji teden nehal delat v laboratoriju, ko nimaš še do konca analiz narejenih in ko odhajaš iz države čez 3 dni, ti živčne ure polepša branje in iskanje literature (Cited References). A vseeno: živeli programi, kot so Mendeley!

Maybe I'll start with acknowledgements ...

Thesis writing on PhD comics.

A rabim še kaj dodat? ;)

Whose your Dadda? in BioEdit

Ha ha haha ha! X-mas came early this year!

Damien Rice in reminisciranje ob Random Collision -u

Pozdravljeni!

Življenje v Groningenu mi je, poleg miljon drugih reči in (spo)znanj, prineslo in razširilo tudi glasbena obzorja. Ha, ha - Severna obzorja. (A je to kdo gledal, ko je bil mlajši?)

  Prejšnjo soboto sem bil na predstavi plesalcev moderne scene, Random Collision-u in Club Guy&Roni-ju. Edan Gorlicki pa je plesal, ob videu, na katerem je neka punca plesala točno isti ples, na glasbo Damien-a Rice-a, I remeber. Komad, ki je v originalu daljši, z delom, ki mi ni tako všeč, so v svoji krajši obliki za-loop-ali in nastala je huda plesna točka s fenomenalno glasbo. Zgodba pa je govorila o partnerskem odnosu ... svetsko.

Drugo glasbeno razodetje je Rupert Blackman, o katerem bom še pisal, vsekakor pa priporočam (hvala, Jasna!) ogled oz. predvsem poslušanje tehle komadov:

Just Come Over Tonight, Win, Don't you Ever Change, Strong.

Pants #2

The Bycycle Butt
- part two -

"One lovely day in mid-winter, Aljaž was riding his bike (technically, it was the bike of his landlord/roommate), minding his own business (well, I was basically amiably humming to meself, down the street to the Centre for Lifesciences, when all of the sudden, Pants, for some reason known only to them and quite possibly also little wriggly men atop high mountains, wearing orange clothes and no underpants, completely lost their nerves and disgracefully let go of themselves in the general Butt area...
But luckily, as these things go, there was a Stranger in town (nevermind the fact there were probably approximately 1,347 strangers in the city at that exact moment), who knew the arts and crafts and was gifted in the old and sacred art of sewing. So Aljaž asked unto her: 'I've seen you have something similar - so I take it you're able & apt in doing these as well?'
Also, in want of not sounding too demanding, he added: 'Cheerio, thank you very much,
ALjaž'
And, since he was of the general forgetful sort, he post-scripted: 'Ooh, also, can you do something about the left pocket?? If not, I Can:)' "

- The end -

Lepilna pošta

  //Napisano kot odgovor na Jasnin:Veeeeery scientific!//

Mi smo pa danes v odmoru za kavo (coffee break... ne pijem kave, pa ne vem, kako se temu po naše reče - verjetno sem zadel;) preizkusili, če seže ta velik selotejp do pritličja iz 6. nadstropja. Laufal sem dol in preveril, če je - ne, prišel je samo do mojega popka! (Ampak to zato, ker so ga vmes že nekaj narolali v kepo... Neresneži.)
Ker je seveda potem treba to še uporabiti (uporabna znanost pa te stvari), in ker sem bil že ravno v avli v pritličju, so hoteli čips. Ker nihče ni hotel vreči kovanca ali denarnice dol, ne bodi si ga len, hopacupa, povlečt lepilni trak nazaj gor, pritrdit denarnico od ene kitajke in jo spustit nazaj dol. (Ko videl akcijo v začetku, sem šel lepo z liftom nazaj gor, mimo njih, ki so se matrali in vzel svoj čaj .. se srkajoč spustil nazaj v globine in ravno pravi čas prišel do točke L.)
Po lepilni pošti sem poslal vrečko čipsa (papriko, kakopak) in se vrnil nazaj gor.
Ta-daaa!
;) Jao.

Origami

No, ko gre teden proti koncu, ko že misliš, da bo še en dan šel po vodi ..., ko je ura že 18:30 v petek zvečer ... takrat ... takrat me pride iskat mentor in dene pred menoj na mizo iz papirja narejeno šatuljico (oz. nje spodnji del).

  Dan nazaj sem bil namreč med zadnjimi, ki so odhajali iz CvL-ja in sem opazil na mizi v "kavnem kotičku" (coffee corner, zdaj pa prevedite to, jaz ne vem) šatuljico. Hotel sem jo razdreti, pogledati in sestaviti nazaj, da bi se naučil - seveda ni šlo - in zato sem napisal sporočilce neznancu (lahko bi uganil!): "Živjo! Mi lahko prosim pokažeš, kako se to naredi? A 06.17." To zadnje je bila številka sobe.
  No, in tako sem prišel h Kimu v pisarno in sva naredila, ob glasbi Counting Crows (jo je dal gor posebi za origami delat:) škatlico, pokrovček za škatljico (malce večji), razdelke za notri, tako da dam lahko zdej npr. čigumije ali ... muhe .. ali karkoli, kocko (to sem si vedno želel znati!), piramido, nato pa mi je samo pokazal (ker je moral podreti mojo kocko oz. tedaj že piramido) nek čudno-kotni-eder. Pač ni bil dodeka, ampak je bil pa kr-neki...eder.
  Svašta. Zdej pa jest, pa body painting. I'll let you know how that goes! ;)