play

there must be a little and beautiful tune

for the end of a love that started in June

there should be a short and vibrant melody

for a boy whose birthday was in February

there was I know the sweetest little song

that both of us used to hum along

in March, and April and also in May

until it turned into air and it blew away

Cheater Smiter Girl II

He comes into the room and snaps me off my reverie. He can’t see me yet, and I prefer to watch for a bit. Like cat and mouse we play, this mouse being about 6 ft tall, lanky, messy bed hair and bald spot, no butt. I guess it was his starving poet looks that attracted my friend in the first place, even though this guy’s idea of poetry is thug rap lyrics. She got it in her mind that all he needed was feeding and love to grow into his loving husband potential. He got it in his mind that all he needed was to waive the potential husband carrot in order to corner the market on slightly desperate, but very very hot women.

Anyway, he finally notices me, or better say he notices my dangerous boots and trailing whip. His yell is cut off by the appearance of my torpedoes/breasts and familiar face. Shoot, I should have added a mask. Oh well, time to play:

“ Tremble cheater! For I am CheaterSmiterGirl; here to show you the evil of your ways!” I speak, actually feeling slightly stupid. I should definitely work on my lines.

“Huh? I know you, what’cha talking about? And what are you doing here?” he grumbles, finally finding his language somewhere, despite his raging boner and distinctive fear.

“Never mind what you think you know. I am here to avenge your poor long suffering girlfriend whose heart you have trampled upon like worthless dirt. You have betrayed her trust, her love and have made a mess of her mind and reason. Therefore, I will smite you where it will hurt the most: your manhood.”

He is listening openmouthed and confused. And he has not called the police yet, which shows how stupid men can become in front of half-naked women, even ones dressed like deranged avengers/doms gone wild. Especially in front of deranged avengers/doms gone wild. How we fall to pieces over such dumb jerks will always be beyond me.

“But what did I do?” he manages to say, as I make my bolt ready.

“You refuse to commit, you do not allow her to get closer, you are inconsiderate of her feelings, you are indifferent and careless with her, you hit on her friends and you don’t even celebrate Valentine with her. And you never ever take her out to meet your friends, even though she takes you every time she meets hers. I certainly suffered enough of your lecherous blathering.”

“Huh?” he says. Male eloquence at its best. I do not bother to answer, I get ready, I point the smiting bolt…

“Wait, wait’ he says. “There has been some gross misunderstanding here. Please hear me out.”

I do not want to. But his slightly bulbous nose gives his round face such a pleading look that I cannot smite. Dratt! I hold at the ready and indicate he can continue.

“I never hit on you.” he says. Oh brother, now he is truly getting the bolt. His ass is grass. I smite him with all the satisfaction of a well deserved deed, and I imensely enjoy his yowls of pain.

And then…

“Honey, what happened? Are you ok?” I hear from the bedroom, surprise engulfing me as my broken hearted friend springs to his aid.

“Oh what did you do?” she cries at me, clutching his football sized head. “What did you do?”

Dear Friend

Hey friend,
Thank you for your message. I normally never discuss politics and war, but with all that has been going on, it feels necessary to explain.
Yes I am Albanian, but from Albania, not from Kosova. However, we are all Albanian. We are all grateful to the US for intervening and saving our people.

Our history is very long and a bit confusing and it all starts a very long time ago. However, the short version is that after the Ottoman empire disintegration, ethnic Albania was the last country to declare independence including Kosova lands in Nov 1912. The grand powers of the world at the time decided to give Kosova to Yugoslavia then, because Albania was too weak. And they gave southern lands to Greece. Since then, there has been continuous war. Our southern lands were brutally, methodically and permanently cleansed, causing people to flee and almost forever close that chapter of history
Albanian Kosovars are more resilient.  Even though they have been persecuted, killed, and hurt in any possible way only because they would not assimilate. Just google and you will find the horror stories.
Nobody heard Kosovars plight through 50 years, not even Albania the nation. I guess we were too involved in our own dictatorship to do anything to help.
When Yugoslavia started disintegrating, Serbia stood to lose the most economically and power wise. So they fought with everybody, and everything and lost.
Losing Kosova smarted the most, because Albanian Kosovars were always considered 2nd hand citizens, usurping Kosova through their high birth rate and their Muslim ways. Even with all the cleansing strategies, Kosova is still 85% ethnic Albanian (conservative estimate). Unfortunately, Kosova is also very rich in minerals and other natural goodies that Serbia uses, with only minimal investing. The irony is that the war could have been avoided, if Kosova had not been systematically persecuted through the last 50 yrs. Everybody wanted peace and prosperity except the greedy governments. Unfortunately,  time has shown the ending of what Kosovars would go through, if they let Serbia rule them one more time. See even though very patient and peacefully protecting their rights, Albanian Kosovars gained nothing.
In 1997 thru 1999, things came to a boil. A lot of Kosovar Albanians fleed from their homes and took refuge in Albania, Former Macedonia and the US, while many men went to war over their land and people. You can read their testimonies all over the internet. If not for US and NATO Forces, a lot more people would have died, because this time Albanians were not backing down.
There were independence plans since then, but Serbia refused to come to an agreement. They have been stalling for 10 years, while not relenting an inch in their treatment of Albanian Kosovars. Before fighting Croatia, Slovenia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, they had the support of a lot of European countries which truly consider all Albanians 4th class Citizens. America did not care until 1997. Can’t tell you why they took an interest, maybe to balance off Russia’s influence on Serbia, but for us it was very fortunate. They truly helped finish a war that would have been really horrible.
And by supporting Kosova’s independence now, they’ve made sure that it stays that way.
I do not think that this sets a precedent for Basque and Chechnya separatists. I do not think that Serbs are as bloodthirsty and as full of hate towards Albanians and the US, as they are pictured on the news. I blame most of what you see on TV on the dirty politics of war criminals who do not want to let go of their bloodied power.
I do not like people who give judgement without getting all their facts straight and I do think that this incident will help American people not to fall asleep again, and to understand that every little happening in the world impacts their lives too. See this is not happening in Darfur, Iraq or China, but in Europe, a lot closer to home than we imagined. Therefore I appreciate your inquiry a lot more than you think.
love as well
B.

p.s. This originated as an answer to a friend’s email on what is happening now in Kosova and Serbia. Any historical misrepresentation and mistakes in dates and places are entirely my own, as well as the opinion expressed here.
 

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Cheater Smiter Girl I (rated GP for Guilty Pleasure)

It is time to smite the boyfriend. He has made his last snide comment and thrown his last lecherous glance. My friend has shed the last tears on his cheating, unworthy, flat butt, and has made her last frantic, tearful call to me. I have had enough.

I feel my calling. I can’t stand to see my girlfriends breaking into little pieces and waste their money over looser boyfriends that capitalize on the desperation and expiration date of fantastic girls that they otherwise wouldn’t even see through binoculars, let alone share beds with. All of a sudden these sniveling Casanovas discover they are hot marriage commodity and start using that to make up for those high school years they spent recovering from wedgies and rejection.

I can’t overlook it anymore. The righteousness of my cause, coupled with the frustration from disruptive phone calls, tearful meetings in Starbucks and revenge bar sprees, fill me up with smiting power and transform me inside. I can feel the current running inside me, I can feel the clothes transforming into black leather gear and costume jewelry appropriate for superheros. For I have decided to become CheaterSmiterGirl! and come to the aid of slighted ladies anywhere in the world. Wherever there is one more tear shed, one more heart crack over cheaters, there I’ll be.

another side of the medal

and just to show i can be cheesy with the best of them, (and because i just lost my bus) here is a list of all most fond love memories, mine and of mine. (no object does not mean no affection)

1. one month long fight on whether Mariah or Whitney is the best singer.
2. a frenetic 200 mile bike ride from Tirana to Saranda and triumphant return with lover in tow.
3. a one hour long play of hands when lost on a highway.
4. not letting go of the hand of your lover, even when you had to hi5 your friends.
5. putting a piece of gum in your crush’ schoolbag every morning.
6. having your back firmly wedged in your lover’s torso while tipsy, secure in the knowledge that he won’t let your glass spill, and you fall.
7. throughly kissed on valentine’s midnight.
8. getting a swiss army alarm clock for valentine.
9. sharing a sandwich and seeing the satisfied look on his lean student face.
10. hidden love marks that stills sting in the morning, on the bus ride to work

morning buzz without the coffee.

i never really had a good relationship with valentine, not the saint of love, but the flashy antics and the sheep eyes people make at each other. i actually have a friend who has what i call “the in love” posturing. he has to circle with both hands the woman he is sitting with, and have the dreamy peaceful relaxed face in his eyes. nothing wrong with it, except i have a picture of him 20 years ago with the same posture, different woman. and of 5 years ago…and of last month. 

nothing wrong with it, i am just the kind of person who always catches these details. and possibly belive in valentine less.

(cue in the death metal melody of your choice. i have thoughtfully provided the lyrics)

well, i am becoming quite rude lately. i notice this as a stranger tries to talk to me over the internet, one of those misguided souls that thinks badgering strange women with questions will get him the answers he/she wants, or whose idea of a joke is to “test” the waters and give me a hard time with personal questions.

see, there are several things going against you buddy:

1. i have been stalked a lot as a young girl, and my tendency is to run in the other direction when contacted by strangers that i have never met before.

2. simple etiquette. if you want answers, please start by introducing yourself and the reason you are contacting me, instead of asking about my marital status, bra size and size of nose. i am just not that into telling a total stranger the story of my life. and i almost never lie about myself, which is why i have to be careful about the questions i answer and to who. and oh yes, i will not strip for you on camera either.

3. don’t think you know me because of what you have read or heard about me. if there is something you like in my writings and wish to contact me, please email me or leave a comment here, but do not automatically add my address and then expect full entertainment. it is just not going to happen.

4. i do not like practical jokes. because i am overworked and absent-minded, i certainly do not find provocative questions, bad language, and generally what my dad calls “jokes without grease” particularly funny or interesting. annoyance will show in my voice or in my messaging until i know who you are and how did you get my information.

5. the “getting chicks with internet”schtick is getting old. see, i do not expect to find my prince charming amongst 22yr olds from Albania who are looking for a good way to spend their internet cafe time. that does not mean that i am a rude person or that i do not help strangers in need. but i am mostly able to assess a person in the first 5 minutes of conversation, and usually i do not like where it goes.

6. i have good internet friends, virtual kindred souls that i have almost never met in my life, but who i have long conversations with. you are not one of them. just as it takes a long time to cultivate a friendship in person, it also takes a long time to cultivate a virtual friendship. and there is no reason why that effort should be made for you. unless you look like Antonio Banderas (pre Hollywood era) and write like Terry Pratchett. and dance the flamenco. and hug like a polar bear. and buy me books every tuesday, and chocolates every friday. and do not mind my singing.

7. i have been bred with albo-lab toughness, baked with NY rudeness and polished off with Jersey madness. my indian name is “approach – with -care”. while i like attention (sometimes even crave it), i do not like some types of attention and will become very grouchy with certain people.

so this is it. as i fear rudeness set in again, i try to be more polite to the stranger on the other side of the modem but i truly cannot. there is no redeeming quality.

another piece of NY

the time has come that i have to jiggle my big behind in different subway cars and metro buses. i might as well quit paying rent and start washing up in the public bathrooms and changing in pub stalls. i am also running out of books to read, and i am singlehandendly raising Barnes & Noble stock. but that is enough of a rant.

actually i wanted to describe several snippets of subway life that have such a distinctive NY flavor (and odor), and that really stand out even in my own jaded eyes. and possibly get off my chest this i-have-to-blog guilty feeling.

1. got on #6 train. found a whole empty seat next to a little guy in the corner. dunno why i did not take it. then the other seat became free and i took that. there was no smell or anything, but the little guy sitting in the corner was crouched and looked like he had peed on himself. as i watched closer, it appeared that he had indeed, peed on himself. ugrrh. as he got out to leave, i saw the puddle he left behind and i was very glad i did not sit next to him. then a beefy guy sat on there so fast, i did not have time to do nothing else but watch his face switch from the joy of an empty seat to the wet embarrassment and fervent prayer “please let it be water, please let it be water, please let it be water”.

dim sum in flushing

since it was Chinese (or Lunar New Year as my Korean co-worker insists on calling it) and i was in Flushing, I decided to do Chinese/Lunar things.

1. i went to a Chinese restaurant in which the pricing was the ony thing i could understand. I fell in love with a dim sum “a la carte” display.

2. i learned that Chinese people hand each-other red envelopes with most likely cash in them as gifts.

3. i bought a lot of candy i did not understand anything about. afterwards, biting through a sample of each, i found that half of them were totally disgusging, a quarter was gummy bears, and one was the long lsot twin of “Karamele Zana”

4. i looked up my chinese horoscope. because i am the sign of the Rabbit, i always check it again, to make sure that it is still the same. yep, it is. shoot, i never felt like a bunny.

5. i bought some chinese dieter’s tea. since most are made with senna leaves, i decided not to take them at the moment, in order to avoid 8 o’clock news with “inner plumbing gone awry” story line.

another attack.

there is a strange atmosphere tonight as i come home. an almost cheery mood is spread along the rooms, and a strange half-smile plays on my mother’s lips. actually it is not that strange. it is one of those smiles that tells me that “there is something to be said”, “there are some interesting developments” “there are words” kind of thing.

i cringe a bit inside. whenever my parents have these type of smiles playing on their lips, something is going on. and it is usually something that they need my help with. and something i will not like to help with. but that i have to do. for the sake of my parents. for the sake of family.

it usually involves a “new” piece of furniture, or a new telephone conversation my father has had with those nice girls at telemarketing. or an “El Gordo” lottery letter which invites me to claim 896,563 EURO in Spain, right after i submit my bank account and routing number. and don’t forget the social security number.