<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588</id><updated>2012-02-11T17:34:51.218+02:00</updated><category term='serial'/><category term='Just Cata'/><category term='poze'/><category term='munca'/><category term='just targoviste'/><category term='videoclip'/><category term='funny'/><category term='movies'/><category term='ei'/><category term='blog'/><category term='carti'/><category term='pact... cu diavolul'/><category term='unifest'/><category term='stire'/><category term='brasov'/><category term='Story'/><category term='colegi'/><category term='studenti'/><category term='diverse'/><category term='saracie'/><category term='sentimente'/><category term='muzica'/><category term='educativ'/><category term='scoala'/><category term='teatru'/><category term='poezie'/><category term='rahat'/><category term='oras'/><category term='informatii'/><category term='love'/><category term='master'/><title type='text'>Just Cata</title><subtitle type='html'>Cand nu ai nimic de spus.. inseamna ca ai mult de cautat! (The simple thoughts of ... Cata)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>325</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-4705339809075720380</id><published>2012-02-10T21:38:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T21:38:42.850+02:00</updated><title type='text'>But alone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"The white ceiling stares at me, as much as I stare at it. I try to come up with some words that can express what I feel, but the letters seem to fade away with each attempt. I want to say so many things... my story, but the fear of failing strangles my thoughts."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The light entered the room and a strange breeze made her tremble. She put her head on the sofa and turned her green eyes towards the window. The grey clouds and the dark snow didn't help. When did she become this person. Where are the books she always bought? Where are the documentaries she always watched? Where is the bench near the green tree and the love story that gave her hope?She couldn't watch anymore. She faced the ceiling again and then she turned her eyes at her drawings. They reminded her about the first years of college. A tear was making its way on the cheek. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Ufff..."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She closed her eyes and she tried to remember her second day on the bicycle. It was awful, her ass hurt like hell, but she was proud of the moment when she hooped alone on the two wheeled monster. She knew after that moment that she can do everything. And when she was on top of the tree, walking on some not to steady pieces of wood... on one side she had the forest on the other the magnificent view. And she was on top of the world. She can do everything. And when she was on the small stone, between to two rocks. Definitely she can do it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But alone?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-4705339809075720380?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/4705339809075720380/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2012/02/but-alone.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/4705339809075720380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/4705339809075720380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2012/02/but-alone.html' title='But alone?'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-3157998620123382578</id><published>2012-01-14T00:31:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T00:31:47.420+02:00</updated><title type='text'>If I could turn back time...</title><content type='html'>If I would have a time machine ... and I would be able to change 10 things in my life I would :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Kiss my mom and dad, my brother and sister, and call them as often as I can to tell them I miss them; &lt;br /&gt;2.  Spend more time with my friends and tell them as often as I can how much they mean to me... be more honest with them;&lt;br /&gt;3. Slap the guys who made fun of me because I was too fat, even though I was just fluffy;&lt;br /&gt;4.Know when is time to say 'Good Bye' and move on with my life...;&lt;br /&gt;5. Try to leave my jealousy behind and enjoy life and him as he is;&lt;br /&gt;6. Kiss the guy who after I felt and injured my knee, bent down, cleaned it and kissed it gentle in order to pass;&lt;br /&gt;7. Take the hand of the guy who stayed by my bed an entire night, even if he knew that I liked somebody else;&lt;br /&gt;8.&amp;nbsp; Tell Vasile's group that it got separated and I'm not the only one that changed... I'm the only one who tried to keep in touch... &lt;br /&gt;9. Choose Math Faculty just to see how that works for me ...&lt;br /&gt;10. Love the image I see in the mirror at the right time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-3157998620123382578?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/3157998620123382578/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2012/01/if-i-would-turn-back-time.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3157998620123382578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3157998620123382578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2012/01/if-i-would-turn-back-time.html' title='If I could turn back time...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2114935557114960773</id><published>2012-01-12T05:14:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T05:14:53.679+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Fact : good girls over bad boys!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I bet a lot of you ask yourself why are good girls going after the bad guys (for example why doesn't a girl care about the line 'I did a lot of bad thing in my life'..), well this is why : &amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;1. The guy is really good looking and that usually erase a lot of bad things that one can do;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;2. Bad things... what is the actual definition of bad? Because in some cases things can't be as bad as they sound. Except murder and rape. Well, there is only one excuse that can rule out the murder exception : if the guy is a vampire. And if the guy is a awesome vampire he actually doesn't have the fault for all the blood sucking. Hunger is hunger! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;3. Why would a bad guy say that he did bad things? He must have a very good soul because he thinks that the girl should know that he isn't a saint. Who is a saint? Let the first one throw the rock!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;4. OK. He really is a bad person. He treats others like shit. But when he is with you, he is a little bit different. He doesn't yell so loud, he doesn't get into a fight as often. I bet you are the one to change him. You can make him a better person. Challenge accepted!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;5. I have the baddest boy around town.&amp;nbsp; I'm cool!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2114935557114960773?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2114935557114960773/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-fact-good-girls-over-bad-boys.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2114935557114960773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2114935557114960773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-fact-good-girls-over-bad-boys.html' title='Fun Fact : good girls over bad boys!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2267731039953246232</id><published>2012-01-07T21:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T21:35:11.013+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Fact : jumping and landing are two different things!</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;Today I learned a great lesson of life : having a perfect jump doesn't necessarily mean that you will have a big landing.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to make a big and great jump. I needed it, because not doing anything all day long (because you sleep all day long!!) messes with my head. So, I wanted to jump from a lower place to a higher place. Believe me, the jump was great! But the landing... The carpet ran from under my feet and I landed directly on my ass. This is one of the rare occasions where I'm actually grateful to have a big ass. Let's hope that the cameras that where pointed in my direction captured the moment and it will become a great gag someday. It should, because if you see my face when I go for the jump is like I want to win a championship of jumping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2267731039953246232?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2267731039953246232/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-fact-jumping-and-landing-are-two.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2267731039953246232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2267731039953246232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-fact-jumping-and-landing-are-two.html' title='Fun Fact : jumping and landing are two different things!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7345554528533421984</id><published>2011-12-31T06:26:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T06:45:32.991+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Why lie at all?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When the picture is to ugly, look for another angle. I am thinking over and over again at this sentence, and I am trying to see another angle, but it doesn't work. I swear that the man who invented these words was drunk. And yes, only a man could invent such words. The commercial with the drunk man that sees a beautiful women through the bottle of beer, instead of the monster that was there a few seconds ago, pops into my head.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Damn, that won't help me solve anything. I want to look at the sky, but instead I look at the grey cellar from over my head. The phone from my hand starts vibrating and it scares me a lot. I put it under the pillow and I hope that he won't hear it. F**k! I tell myself that I am a hypocrite, because I tell everybody who listens that I am against looking in someone's phone. But now, after reading the messages, I understand all the crazy girlfriends, and I agree that if something smells fishy this is the easy way to see where the smell is coming from. Fortunately, the phone stops making noise and he still is in the shower.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I bang my head on the wall and I raise the phone at the level of my eyes. I can't stop reading from it. It's like an addiction, even if you know you shouldn't, you keep doing it. How is this fair? How? Why should someone lie? Especially to someone that says out loud that he/she can take anything but lies.&lt;br /&gt;From BlaBla(him) to BlaBla(a she) 'Still on for the meeting tonight? I might crash at your place, cause I want to taste you a little bit..'. I can't read anymore and I let my hand fall near me. I hear him getting out from the shower and I put the phone gently under the pillow. He is singing a song, not suspecting anything.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;'Why are u staying so dull?' he asks me while he searches for a pair of underwear in my drawer.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;'Bored. Are you sure you have to stay at work tonight ?' I ask as naive as I could be in this moment.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;'Sorry love, work is work.' he approaches me naked as he is, and kisses me gently. 'I promise I will make it up to you' and before I have the chance to say anything he continues his search for underwear.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I am remembering our first serious conversation, in which we were agreeing that we will have an open relationship, in which we can meet other people if we want. Why lie now? Why lie at all? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7345554528533421984?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7345554528533421984/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/12/why-lie-at-all.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7345554528533421984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7345554528533421984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/12/why-lie-at-all.html' title='Why lie at all?'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5681601480911282527</id><published>2011-12-31T06:00:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T17:28:07.062+02:00</updated><title type='text'>2011 - new, joy, dance, music, longing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Another year will be gone with the wind.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As a kid time didn't meant to much in my life, I had time to play and that made me really happy, but as years went by I realized that the only thing you don't have to play with is time. You won't have time to do everything you want, so you must take your chance and enjoy all the opportunities as they come. Thinking twice might ruin too many chances, not thinking at all might keep your chances away. Take your time, but don't ever forget that time doesn't wait for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The year that is about to finish brought many happy moments. It began by filling the gaps in my life with new and great people. From the people of my school, to the people from my work, I was constantly surrounded by persons with whom I was able to have serious conversations, great laughs and a lot of dancing. Being a part of a group, helps a lot an individual. It helped me by improving my social skills and my bad jokes. The jokes are still pretty bad, but imagine they are better than the ones from last year! I want to thank them for accepting me as I am, for dancing with me, for singing next to me and especially for keeping in touch even when so many kilometers are in between.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Last year came with a very important change in my life. I am able to visit and live in another country. For the first time in my life I am in a place where Romanian isn't the native language and I don't meet the usual people every step of the way (actually, now I know a lot of people, so I can meet usual people each step of the way, but at first I was all alone :p). I had the chance to see a lot of beautiful landscapes, I had the chance to sit on a stone between two rocks at an altitude of 1000m above the ground, I had the chance to be in another world. Besides that, the best chance offered by this year was meeting different cultures. Living, eating and drinking in a environment where it doesn't count the color of the skin or the tallness, not even the language you speak back home. No! The only think that matters was that you are here. I want to thank my international friends for being as they are, for being from where they are and for all the great parties we had together. May many more come in the new year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Another think that the year 2011 brought, was and is homesickness. Missing my family and my friends as I never missed them before. Being apart from them didn't seem such a problem, when that apart meant the same country, now it's painful. Painful because time doesn't stop for them, and I got to miss a lot of important moments, birthdays, Christmas and New Years. I know that the new world is a blessing, but that won't ever replace my world from back home. I am thinking of you each day. Thanks for thinking of me too! I love you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2011&lt;/b&gt; in a few words : new, joy, dance, music, study, longing, friends, &lt;b&gt;GREAT&lt;/b&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5681601480911282527?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5681601480911282527/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/12/2011-new-joy-dance-music-longing.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5681601480911282527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5681601480911282527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/12/2011-new-joy-dance-music-longing.html' title='2011 - new, joy, dance, music, longing...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2598147643836891667</id><published>2011-12-22T14:47:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T05:21:27.299+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The smell of the fir tree, recently brought by my dad in the house and it's green color.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The small lights surrounding the branches and spreading colorful rays.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The glossy globes that seem to float. Pucky playing with the globe from the last branch.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My dad hugging my mom and telling her that he wants to taste the traditional food that is still on a small fire.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My mom slapping his hand because he tastes it and after that he takes another spoon, and another and another... Just to be sure he got the right taste.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My brother making surprises for everybody and buying for me a perfume I usually hate :)). He getting upset and telling me that the next year Santa won't bring me anything. The next year he still loves me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My sister screaming that somebody wake her up too early. Being cranky until I make a super joke. Even if it's about her, she laughs with all her heart.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;White snow, puffy and soft. A snow man that it's far from the ones u see in movies, but that it's perfect just because he has a special shape.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The carols we sing watching the Christmas tree that shines in the room. My dad loves carols. My mom sings with us. Our precious family time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Pretzels, nuts, apples. Candies, sweets, sponge cake. Family dinner, friends dinner. Loved ones. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The presents that wait for us under the tree. The waking up at 5am in the morning in order to see if you were as good as you thought. Childhood. Waiting for the bike and receiving the doll. Being as excited as before. Breaking the doll to soon.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The city that shines. The lights you see everywhere. Angels, sleighs, reindeer, Santa Claus.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The girl. The guys. My brother. My sister. Mom and dad. The people that matters. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2598147643836891667?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2598147643836891667/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-is.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2598147643836891667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2598147643836891667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-is.html' title='Christmas is...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1863674927383274210</id><published>2011-11-29T21:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T21:29:12.054+02:00</updated><title type='text'>With the roots in my hand... i'm looking for fertile soil! UiS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's needless to tell you the road from Oslo to Stavanger, because even if my eyes didn't close, my mind slept all the way!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I think that the main difference between me and the new civilization I encounter is I can't sleep thinking that someone would steal my big, big luggage that is in the open luggage area. The Romanian thinking is still fresh in my head and I can't imagine how people can be so relaxed knowing that their stuff is in the other part of the train. At last I see on the screen Stavanger and with my heart beating like crazy I take my luggage and wait for the door to open.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I step on steady ground I take a deep breath and I look around. I think I have the stare that&amp;nbsp; usually all the tourists have when they come in a new environment. Well, for me everything is glowing. The train I am leaving behind, the small train station, the lake from the center, the seagulls, the people. Everything is moving in slow motion and with a smile on my face I try to gather as much landscape as I can. Now that I think a bit, the slow motion might be from the weight of my luggage. Anyway, the smile is a real thing. This moment is the ending of the epilogue of my adventure and the starting of it's introduction. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's Saturday already (I began my journey Thursday) and even if it's a beautiful evening outside the street is kind of empty. I see a little girl in a bus station and I go to her. I doubt she knows English, but I have the International Guide and she has to know where the University is. No?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Excuse me, University of Stavanger, where?" Of course, i'm using my hands in order to mime what i'm asking, and I know I act like I am talking with a monkey or a dog, but I want to be sure that she understands what I want to ask her. She looks at me strange and answers me in a perfect English "If you want to go to the University you have to wait here for the bus no. 6. You can ask the driver to show you where to stop." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Like in cartoons I stare blankly for a few seconds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The bus leaves me in the street. Literally in the street. I carry my burden next to a board which says that I'm at the UiS buildings and I try to enter the door. It's closed. Hmmm. I crawl myself and the luggage until the next door. Closed. F**k! @#%$# I try to kick the luggage, but all I end up doing is hoping in one leg. It hurt me more than I hurt it. I made up my mind and leaving all my stuff behind I started looking for a door. I am really tired and for me this place was suppose to be the Heaven. Instead, I can't find the main building and I'm lost in an area where every building had UiS on it. I tell myself loudly (as usual) that I should calm down and try to act intelligent.&amp;nbsp; After a check up of the map I finally realize where I am and where I have to go.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I enter the building and when I see the smiley faces that are waiting for me I fell much lighter. I literally could fly just about now. Seriously. Good thing that I have my luggage to keep me on the ground. They ask me for the passport and they go for the papers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Andreea, for a person with such a big luggage you have a very small amount of luck" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;How bad can it be, i'm thinking. I have a big smile on my face and I answer as if I just heard a joke "Actually, the luggage carries me!" and then i add taking my serious tone "I have all my life inside, so wherever I go, the big fella' follows". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After they tell the address and how exactly I should reach it, I am seriously thinking to leave the luggage behind. I have to walk 10 min until the bus station, and after that exchange 2 buses, and after that I have to search the address.SHIT! SHIT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1863674927383274210?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1863674927383274210/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/11/with-roots-in-my-hand-im-looking-for.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1863674927383274210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1863674927383274210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/11/with-roots-in-my-hand-im-looking-for.html' title='With the roots in my hand... i&apos;m looking for fertile soil! UiS'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1758648150688566548</id><published>2011-11-27T14:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T14:57:58.225+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Closure ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She looked for him in the crowd and when she finally spotted him, he was staring at her. After so many months of ignoring her, it was almost unreal that he stared at her. She turned around, as for reassuring herself that it's not a mistake, and after that she started walking towards him. She didn't know if her heart was bouncing because of the emotions or just because she danced a lot that night. As he was closing up, her memories of their last talk were starting to appear in her head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"It doesn't matter anymore". She still had a good image of her last sentence written on the messenger window and now, into her mind, it appeared like a glow on the laptop's screen. It should have been the last sentence she was ever supposed to address him. But now, after seeing him,something inside her wanted to clarify everything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Hi" she said with a broken smile. Checking his features she was wondering what exactly was the trigger of her feelings for him.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He raised his eyebrow and without even noticing her desperate figure he took her hand and whispered in a sensual tone "Finally, realized you are missing me?" He wanted to kiss her ear, but she slowly pushed him away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Do you have 5 minutes for me?"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Baby, I have more than 5 min. If everything goes a'right, I can give you a morning too" with an embrace he was trying to push her gentle into the wall.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She looked at him with sorrow in her eyes. If she would have had more drinks, she probably would be in his bed by now. Unfortunately she didn't. Unfortunately.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She released herself from the embrace and taking his hand into her own she led him outside. She went to the hidden bench and sat him slowly on it. He didn't want to let go of her arm and he was trying to find her mouth with his lips. Growling like a small bear he was thinking that she was in mood for jokes so he grabbed her in a forced embraced and kissed her firmly. She was taking by surprise and after he released her from the embrace she slapped him as strong as she could.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The sound of the slap was still in the air. All the alcohol vanished at the touch of her hand with his cheek. He was looking at her. With her hand shaking she was wondering why did she react like that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"We were supposed to be perfect for each other" she turned her face towards him. "We were supposed to be perfect for each other. Why did you screw this up?" she asked while she sat next to him.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He turned his eye to the tree next to the bench and his leaps, so eager to open a few seconds ago, now were shut in a deep silence.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"I always wonder why did I fancy you. You are one of the worst guys I ever had something to do with." she began her speech without knowing how exactly would this help her feel better. "And still my guts tell me that you are a good person deep down inside. But I am tired. You know why we are so perfect one for the other? Do you?" She was looking for his eyes. She touched his face and their eyes meet.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"We are perfect because both of us are looking for persons that leave us. I am looking for guys that aren't reliable and that don't see in me more than a tool, and you are looking for girls that leave you for another life, man or country. In a weird sense, we are actually more alike than I'd want to. You are a mess inside and you stopped believing. I am ... " she smiled.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She raise from the bench and she left without saying anything.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As she was heading for the bus station she realized that she isn't crying. It was so simple. Everything. Life. Him. She should have stopped chasing shadows. At least she didn't came for nothing. She now knew that this chapter of her life is over. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1758648150688566548?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1758648150688566548/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/11/closure.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1758648150688566548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1758648150688566548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/11/closure.html' title='Closure ...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-662378755159014593</id><published>2011-11-10T18:43:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T18:43:29.919+02:00</updated><title type='text'>some study, some stare, some asshhhhh!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I never thought that studying could need so many hours spent in the library, so many books opened and so many brain cells. I mean, in Romania it doesn't seem so hard. Or maybe the fact that I love what I study there is making things easier? Anyway, I don't want to say anything about studies, but about the study place from the University.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I arrived here since 10am. Went to a course, but didn't quite paid attention to what the teacher had to say. Blame me or blame him for that. I would blame him if I were you (not because i don't want to blame me), because he sucks all the fun from the subject. I actually would have put my money on this course, but as time passed I realized that I would actually put my money on the lyric part of the subject. At last, the course finished and me and some colleagues went to our department's study room. Imagine leather couch, big projector that can be connected to any laptop, fridges, tables, black board, coffee machine... Any student's dream! Actually not any learning student's dream, more of any student's break time dream. 'Cause for study I need people around me that studies, otherwise I may as well stay at home and find something to waste time with! So, after doing some of the work, everybody wanted to go home. I didn't. So I choose to move my study to the library. Nothing wrong there. Except the only table that is available is actually near a...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Let me help u imagine near what! I was very concentrated to find an answer to a problem. I raised my eyes from the book to find a good place to stare at. The first thing i saw : an ass! Not just any ass. A man's ass! A naked man's ass! It belongs to a bronze statue that represents a naked man that kisses his naked girlfriend. Just stared a bit longer and I realized that u can see a little bit of her tit. At least I'm not at her side and I can stare at his ass :))). At the moment I forgot any solution I might have had. Guess I'll change this place. I don't want others to think I'm a stalker or something like that. Think it would be totally wrong to touch his ass on my way out? I already saw all the cracks =))).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-662378755159014593?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/662378755159014593/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/11/some-study-some-stare-some-asshhhhh.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/662378755159014593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/662378755159014593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/11/some-study-some-stare-some-asshhhhh.html' title='some study, some stare, some asshhhhh!!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7449903592665899207</id><published>2011-11-05T06:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-11-05T06:10:19.858+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Not now...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Don't know how to play the game. I try. But i end up in a sad corner of the darkest room with the head on my knees and painful tears coming out of my eyes. Who makes the bloody rules and who decides who's winning? I search for signs and words that can help me, but no one knows how to spell them right. Or maybe I don't understand enough. First is the rage. After that is the sadness. The last one is the sound of another piece felling into the abyss. It's nobody's fault that I'm outside the box.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Think positive" I hear a voice inside. I'm tired of that. Or maybe I'm just tired. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm being melodramatic. But ain't that part of everyday life? I'm loosing some. Instead of screaming, crawling and breaking, i'm just writing, crying and wondering. Wondering again and again where was the flaw. Facing the fact that the guilty one lies within me and only me.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tomorrow I'll get up and face another day with a big smile on my face and another pot of trust. But... today... let me moan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7449903592665899207?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7449903592665899207/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/11/not-now.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7449903592665899207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7449903592665899207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/11/not-now.html' title='Not now...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7503093503925024558</id><published>2011-10-14T18:05:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T18:05:46.486+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Like.. me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Adele - Someone Like You&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/patrisica/dc03298c57b6a7.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=patrisica&amp;hash=dc03298c57b6a7&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/patrisica/dc03298c57b6a7.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=patrisica&amp;hash=dc03298c57b6a7&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The first time i liked someone, i was a teenager girl who loved more the place than the person. I didn't like him as a guy, i liked him as the guy who always was in the same place. It was my comfortable place. I thought he liked me. I was wrong. He liked my friend. And i end up just with the place. I realized that maybe the guy and the place were stuck one to another, because after he left I could see only some dirty walls and a pair of grey stairs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The next time I liked someone, I was a teenager girl who loved more the body than the brain. I didn't listen words that came out of the beautiful lips, or sentence that made their way through the enchanting face. But i liked his hands, his chest, his legs. I never got to touch any of those, because I knew that he didn't liked me. At all. I tried to worship the body, but I didn't payed any attention to the soul and the mind. He told me that he would have wanted someone different. Someone that listened to what he had to say. I lost. I realized that the body can vanish, but the mind can reach immortality.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The next time I liked someone, I was a girl who just found true love. I loved the way he talked, I love the way he walked, I loved the way he ate. But I forgot loving the most important thing. Me. I didn't get a chance to love him as I wanted, because I was to afraid to be loved. And to be hurt. I realized that you can love someone with all your heart, if you don't love yourself it's all for nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The next time I liked someone, I was a strong girl who wanted a guy at her arm. I wasn't expecting anything from him and from my time with him. I trust him, but I didn't trust him with anything. I didn't had any feelings. I was a body outside and a statue inside. I promised myself that I wouldn't care about him. And I didn't. But I lost again. I realized that feelings make u human, not having feeling makes u... lonely. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The next time I liked someone, I was a different girl. Mix of feelings from my heart and my mind. I hated the games which one plays in order to be happy. I hated the whispers in ones ears. I hated the lies and the acts. I was wrong. It seems that shadows of our actions hunts us every time we walk. I realized that if there's a game and it needs players, if you aren't up for it step aside.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The next time I will like someone... I hope...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7503093503925024558?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7503093503925024558/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/10/like-me.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7503093503925024558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7503093503925024558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/10/like-me.html' title='Like.. me!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-8648971798298157822</id><published>2011-09-23T11:47:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T11:56:12.600+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>With the roots in my hand... i'm looking for fertile soil! Stavanger, here I come!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Michael Buble - Feeling Good&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/papermoonfilm/1af1b6d7ddf7bd.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=papermoonfilm&amp;hash=1af1b6d7ddf7bd&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/papermoonfilm/1af1b6d7ddf7bd.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=papermoonfilm&amp;hash=1af1b6d7ddf7bd&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In the pitch black surrounding me an image of a big TV appeared. On that TV I am seeing a lot of numbers and a lot of words in a language I don't know. It's all black again. After a few more seconds another image appears. This time it's a door through which a lot of shadows are passing. After blinking for a few times, I realize that I'm not in a dream, I just have a hard time waking up.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm feeling my eyes very heavy and my back hurts like hell. I will try to sleep in another place the next time I end up in a station at midnight. But until then I have to get up and start my day. After hearing all the stories about guys that left their luggage unsupervised that either they end up at the police or without them, I thought (What the F**k) I can't leave my "monster truck" here. So fully packed with the luggage, I started looking for a bathroom. Of course, in order to go to the bathroom I had to pay 10 crowns! Ain't that cute? But it's WRONG! Ok, so let's recap what's happening here : I have a wallet with 200 pounds, my mouth screams for water in, my bladder screams for water out and my belly doesn't scream anymore and that's strange cause it means that I will soon die! Not really. No. I won't die. But I might, because my belly is to quiet. Anyway, my point is that I have money in my wallet, but not the right kind of money. In the middle of the hallway I start laughing of my situation. What else can I do? Go from here to the train station. That is definitely a good idea. After asking the security guy of it's location I went for it. Cause there I have to find an Exchange Point. No? Well, the faith reserved me a bank on my way to the train station. And not just a bank, but a bank that has in it's vicinity a wall with plug. Iei. I am saved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Of course the bank will open in a couple of hours, after my first train to Stavanger, but it still is a good think that i found it. I put my phone in the plug, I put my laptop in the plug and I am much happier than at the beginning of the day. When I saw people arrive at the bank I immediately started floating to the exchange point and after changing the money I ran (even if I had my luggage I was able to run!! I think thirst and hunger can give u supernatural powers) to a shop and I bought a large bottle of water. I drank like it was my last day on Earth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Of course, my next trip was to the bathroom (after buying the ticket to Stavanger, cause I didn't want to miss it) and there I had to put coins into a machine. It was the same system as in the metro station. But for the bathrooms. So i took a coin, put it in the machine and ... nothing cause the coin slipped outside. I picked up the coin, looked at the machine again and put it again. Nothing. Maybe i just have to put it through. I pushed the things that were standing between me and the bathroom door without any luck. NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I heard an inside voice. My bladder was going crazy! Shhh. Like in cartoons i picked the coin and put it again. And picked it again and put it again. Until a door opened. Angels started singing and the light coming from that door was heavenly! A guy from the security... Security for the bathroom ?!?!?! That's a new one. So, a guy from the security of the bathroom came outside, took my coin, put it in the machine and opened the door. Of course the place where I should have put the coin was elsewhere then where I was trying to put it. Anyway I had a victory a few seconds later. And another one before I went in the train. Happy me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-8648971798298157822?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/8648971798298157822/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/with-roots-in-my-hand-im-looking-for_23.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8648971798298157822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8648971798298157822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/with-roots-in-my-hand-im-looking-for_23.html' title='With the roots in my hand... i&apos;m looking for fertile soil! Stavanger, here I come!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-8130079982341408170</id><published>2011-09-17T04:08:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-09-17T04:13:17.140+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Unspoken words...</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0put0_a--Ng" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"&lt;i&gt;I wanted to write something about you. I won't. I'll write about the green, green trees, blue, blue sky and red, red lips. Here's a new place without you and me. Nothings screams your name, nothing has your face and nothing makes me think about who I was. The room has a new, fresh smell and my eyes see every morning a new light. The tears I dropped once won't hunt me, because here, the floor didn't felt the weight of my tears, the walls didn't saw the shadows of my despair. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I try to remember why I laughed so much when we were as one. Instead I remember your hands and your touch, your skin. I see my face in the mirror. My smile isn't the same. You took my naive smile and you left me this ironic half of smile. I see the last moment we had. I was looking at you. You were staring at your shoes. I don't remember who was the first the leave.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You know what's the funny thing? I never wanted something bad for you. Even when you ripped my heart out. I always hoped that you will be happy. I still hope that you will find what you are searching for.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Damn. I said I will talk about the trees, sky and lips. Well, the trees are green, the sky is blue and the lips... The lips are as red as you know them...&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He read the letter again and again. When he finally stopped reading the words, he knew that he will never forgive himself. Now it was too late. He picked up the other letter he threw on the floor and with tears in his eyes he read the last sentence "I don't know is she would have wanted you to read it. Maybe if that car wouldn't have taken her life, the letter would still have been in a drawer....". He saw a drop on the paper, and then another one, and then another one. He raised his head and closed his eyes. Now the drops of rain were melting with his tears. He heard a voice screaming, but realized that it was his own. Now he was whispering like a mad man. One whisper that won't bring her back. "You left me staring at my shoes..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-8130079982341408170?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/8130079982341408170/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/words-unspoken.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8130079982341408170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8130079982341408170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/words-unspoken.html' title='Unspoken words...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/0put0_a--Ng/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-4250361281905550117</id><published>2011-09-13T02:04:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T02:04:37.897+03:00</updated><title type='text'>With the roots in my hand... i'm looking for fertile soil! The trip 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The first thing i notice about Oslo (i mean about the train station from Oslo) is that, on Friday night, here are a lot of young drunk people. And when i say drunk, i don't mean sweet drunk, laugh drunk or sad drunk, i mean drunk like shit, that aren't able to sit on a bench. Or to keep their legs one next to the other. How do I know that? In one corner of the station where i was the security guys tried to "resuscitate" the guy who felt on the floor and in the other corner there were two drunk girls, with short dresses. And long legs. And black panties (i don't know that by choice!). To tell you the truth it didn't really bother me that much. As long as they mind their own business, they can do whatever they want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was a little scared about this night, because on our way to Oslo (from Sweden) everybody asked me what am I doing in Oslo and if there isn't someone waiting for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was very confident when i answered "Of course not! I will try to find a hotel. I searched one that is near town and I'll start looking for it when I arrive there".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What was the reaction? "Are you sure you want to do that? Oslo is a dangerous city! A lot of drug addicts run around the train station" (that was a lady standing next to me)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"I shouldn't keep that little purse there, cause it will be the first thing that they will steal!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"I don't mean to scare you, but you should be really careful, cause it's a very dangerous place to be, especially during the night."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I think my face started to change radically because i heard someone saying "Hey, it's not that bad. You look like them and they don't usually steal or harm someone of their own nationality"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Great. My only protection was the fact that I looked like a Norwegian! That, and knowing that no one could run with my monster luggage. Well, if i ever thought to leave the train station at the beginning of my trip, now i'm sure that as soon as the bus stops in the station, I will tie myself and my luggage to a chair and won't untie anything until the sun will be way up in the sky!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"No, seriously.. You will be fine! You don't only look like a norwegian, you talk like one too" i heard the same guy. (Was he telling me in a nice way that i talked all the time and i laughed and made fun of everything?) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Come on guys" the lady from the front seat told everybody "is enough that she has to spend one night alone in Oslo! Now she has to spend one night alone and scared in Oslo? Girl, listen to me! Nothing will happen to you if you stay in the light (nice way to cheer me up!) and when the day comes you will see that the city is actually really nice!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As I started telling myself earlier, the first thing i noticed was that there's a lot of drunk guys, the second was that nobody really cared. The third one was that everybody thought that I was from there!! They came and asked something (of course i didn't understood any word!), and after my surprised look and nice english answer they went to find the correct answer in some other part of the station.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now, being here, it doesn't look so bad. I mean i'm not afraid to stay here. Back home i would have pissed a few times just at the thought that i have to spend more that one hour in the train station. And don't let me start with the fear i would have felt anytime a shadow would have appeared somewhere near me! Definitely this is far from being a frightening place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The security men took the drunk guy outside. The girls left. The train station is almost empty. I search for a quiet corner and after i arrange all my bags I take out my "Lost Symbol" and start reading. And soon... i fall into a dreamless sleep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-4250361281905550117?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/4250361281905550117/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/with-roots-in-my-hand-im-looking-for_13.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/4250361281905550117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/4250361281905550117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/with-roots-in-my-hand-im-looking-for_13.html' title='With the roots in my hand... i&apos;m looking for fertile soil! The trip 6'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1156957335406003151</id><published>2011-09-11T21:17:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-09-11T21:17:42.734+03:00</updated><title type='text'>With the roots in my hand... i'm looking for fertile soil! The trip 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I opened my eyes and i realized that I'm not in Kansas anymore. The guys left to find their loved ones and for the first time since my trip, I am all alone surrounded by foreign strangers.&amp;nbsp; I looked at my luggage and i remembered my mom saying "Cata, are you sure you will manage with carrying this monster?". My stubbornness answered very cocky "Of course, mom! How hard can it be? I'll smile until someone helps me".&lt;br /&gt;Now, looking around in the Oslo train station's waiting room, I am thinking that the only person i could smile to is to drunk to carry himself, nevermind my luggage! It's 3am and even if there is a lot of rumor, it feels like i'm in a empty room, cause all the people enter through one door just to get out on the other.&lt;br /&gt;My stomach sings like an opera lead singer (I had to throw my food this morning, so Today i ate only one sandwich and some waffles), but since i don't have any crowns i can't buy anything. Who would have guessed that i have so many useless money in my wallet? Ok, useless for the moment. And I'm so thirsty. &lt;br /&gt;I feel my eyes very heavy and i guess that the two bus days that passed are starting to count. I put the baggage close to various parts of my body (leave the dirty thinking! I mean close to my back, or my foot or even my hand!). I think that this behavior shows how much of a romanian I still am! Filip knows very well what I am talking about, cause he slept into a train and when he waked up he discovered that he lost even the jacket that covered his body! I don't want to lose my monster pack after fighting with it for so many countries (to tell the you the truth, i just carried it for 5 min from the bus until this bench, but it was a true fight!). Anyway the point is that I was very tired. I put my hand on the "monster" and my head on my hand. I tried to lie to my body that the hard wood underneath my ass is actually a very comfortable mattress, the hand underneath my head is a big pillow (if only it would have been so big) and the hunched back position is actually the best that I could find. I almost fooled myself when a big noise pulled me from my mirage and brought me back in the train station. The drunk guy felt from the bench on the floor.Great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1156957335406003151?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1156957335406003151/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/with-roots-in-my-hand-im-looking-for.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1156957335406003151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1156957335406003151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/with-roots-in-my-hand-im-looking-for.html' title='With the roots in my hand... i&apos;m looking for fertile soil! The trip 5'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7539155658502481219</id><published>2011-09-06T12:35:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T12:35:56.659+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><title type='text'>Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... Calatoria 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma uit la feribotul ce a acostat la mal si nu stiu ce simt. Imi este frica intr-un fel, pentru ca nu am mers niciodata cu ceva atat de mare pe apa. Barca, pluta, colac, merge, dar ditamai Titanicul, nu!! Sunt entuziasmata in orice caz. Baietii imi spun ca ar trebui sa stau linistita deoarece nici nu o sa imi dau seama ca sunt pe apa. Nu ii cred decat pe jumatate. Cand autobuzul incepe sa inainteze catre feribot inima imi tresalta de bucurie si incep sa topai ca un copil "Dumnezeuleeee!! Ce taaareee!!! Vedeti ce mare e? Vedeti?" le spun celorlalti, de parca eu as fi vocea ratiunii, iar ei ar fi orbi.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ciudat, cand se opreste motorul si cand in sfarsit coboram din autobuz, ma simt ca intr-o parcare subterana, nicicum pe apa. Ma asteptam sa simt miscare barcii pe apa si eventual sa caut prima toaleta pentru a putea voma linistita in ea. Chiar imi imaginam cum imi voi blestema zilele cu capul pe un "veceu", albastra la fata si cu o greata intensa la fiecare miscare a apei. Cand colo, nu simt nimic. A stai, nu am plecat inca. Urcam spre partea superioara si constientizez ca feribotul nu este decat un mare mall pe apa. Incepem sa umblam dintr-o parte in alta a feribotului pentru a cauta o priza (recunosc, ne si holbam la produsele de prin magazine si ne minunam de preturi). Eu si Marius avem foarte mare nevoie de o priza deoarece telefoanele ne-au lasat la greu. Cel putin al meu e "mort" de ceva ore. Am intrat prin magazine, am verificat marfa si cand am privit spre geam, surpriza : mergeam pe apa!! Am alergat in graba pe punte si am inceput sa fac poze. Am deja zambetul tamp pe buze si multe cuvinte in cap. Cred ca arat ca un copil ce vede pentru prima oara o maimuta sau ceva de genu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oYRx2FM25wo/TmUnZQalBEI/AAAAAAAAAw8/1zWnMjgorh8/s1600/066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oYRx2FM25wo/TmUnZQalBEI/AAAAAAAAAw8/1zWnMjgorh8/s320/066.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g7Gxq7EFrek/TmUnaBB0f6I/AAAAAAAAAxA/siEJ1OW1JIs/s1600/068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g7Gxq7EFrek/TmUnaBB0f6I/AAAAAAAAAxA/siEJ1OW1JIs/s320/068.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yXbvJOcH5hg/TmUnbTx4aTI/AAAAAAAAAxE/Td-RXTQNjZc/s1600/078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yXbvJOcH5hg/TmUnbTx4aTI/AAAAAAAAAxE/Td-RXTQNjZc/s320/078.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ce este foarte surprinzator, oamenii nu au nici cea mai mica grija cand vine vorba de a-si gasi un loc. Unii si-au pus rucsacul pe jos, capul pe rucsac si au incercat sa doarma. Desigur si noi le-am urmat exemplul (nu, nu am dormit unii pe altii!) si ne-am asezat undeva langa scari. Care a fost primul lucru pe care l-am facut pe apa? Ei bine, dragii mei prieteni, am baut o bere!! Baietii au cumparat un 24 pack de bere si l-au impartit cu noi (oare suna mai bine daca spun mine? avand in vedere ca tot spun baietii si ca eu sunt singura fata cred ca ar fi fost la fel de corect sa spun ca am impartit berile intre noi. Hmmm). Ce sa mai, ca la scoala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vv_6dBue5HM/TmUnxJ9eMAI/AAAAAAAAAxI/9TUfMQXYvKE/s1600/059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vv_6dBue5HM/TmUnxJ9eMAI/AAAAAAAAAxI/9TUfMQXYvKE/s320/059.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FxbJmKXVvVE/TmUnyJszBgI/AAAAAAAAAxM/jF515t1mP5o/s1600/082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FxbJmKXVvVE/TmUnyJszBgI/AAAAAAAAAxM/jF515t1mP5o/s320/082.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Din cand in cand ma mai uit spre geam si inca nu-mi vine sa cred ca beau un Tuborg pe drumul meu spre Norvegia, pe un feribot ce ma duce din Germania spre Danemarca, inconjurata de niste oameni pe care pana ieri nu ii cunosteam. Si ce bine e!&lt;br /&gt;Nici nu imi dau seama cand suna "clopotelul" ce ne indeamna sa ne indreptam catre mijloacele noastre de transport. Urmatoarea tara : Danemarca! Ma asez pe scaunul meu si gandurile negre incep sa imi dea tarcoale. Nu am simtit ca am parasit tara. Parca m-as afla pe drumul care duce spre Brasov de 2 zile. Si totusi nu ma duc spre Brasov, ma duc in Norvegia.. Ce o sa ma fac odata ajunsa in Oslo? La 1 jumate noap... nu apuc sa imi duc la bun sfarsit gandul ca observ vamesii cum fac semne autobuzului sa mearga catre garajul loc. Ca si la punctul de control din Germania ma simt de parca as avea ceva de ascuns! De fapt nu este decat o mare teama la gandul ca poate va trebui sa imi deschid bagajul monstru si atunci chiar ca am incurcat-o! Nu pentru ca as avea cine stie ce ilegalitati, ci pentru ca a fost nevoie de mine si de mama sa stam pe bagaj si de tata sa traga de fermoar pentru a-l putea inchide! Se aude in microfon vocea soferului care ne anunta ca va trebui sa ne dam jos din autobuz. Inima incepe sa imi bata cu putere si incep sa imi imaginez situatii in care raman in Danemarca avand doar 20 de euro in portofel. In afara autobuzului un vames inchide usa garajului, iar alti 2 au langa ei caini lupi. Parca as fi adormit si m-as fi trezit intr-un film de groaza. Se aude doar sunetul usii care se inchide. Asta e momentul in care ne impusca pe toti!&lt;br /&gt;Dar nu, nu ne-au impuscat. Au verificat cu ajutorul cainilor autobuzul si apoi ne-au lasat sa plecam. Si uite asa m-am regasit in Danemarca...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7539155658502481219?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7539155658502481219/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7539155658502481219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7539155658502481219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/09/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant.html' title='Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... Calatoria 4'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oYRx2FM25wo/TmUnZQalBEI/AAAAAAAAAw8/1zWnMjgorh8/s72-c/066.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1651043568623109402</id><published>2011-08-14T11:03:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T11:03:56.881+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><title type='text'>Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... Calatoria 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;05.08.2011 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma misc usor si realizez ca nu sunt in patul meu. Incerc sa imi intind picioarele, insa nemilosul scaun din fata este mult prea apropiat si reusesc decat sa imi lovesc genunchii. As vrea sa ma intorc, insa mi-e frica sa imi parasesc pozitia care m-a purtat pe meleagurile viselor. Nu am avut nici un vis, dar suna atat de poetic fraza de mai sus. Imi fac curaj si ma intorc. Mare greseala. Sunt toata transpirata, de parca in loc sa dorm as fi alergat toata noaptea. E foarte cald. Mai ales aici in spate unde zici ca autobuzul are reactoare, nu motor.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Din fericire ma trezesc la timp pentru popas. A trecut o zi de cand nu m-am spalat pe dinti sau pe corp si ma simt groaznic. Nu este cea mai buna dimineata. Cobor din autobuz si ma indrept spre baie. Ca intotdeauna este plin, asa ca trebuie sa astept putin afara. Oare unde suntem? Baietii sunt afara si fumeaza o tigara. Nu sunt la fel de veseli ca ieri, insa cu siguranta e de vina dimineata. Mai incerc o data la baie si descopar o tanti cu pasta de dinti. Fara sa stau pe ganduri ma indrept spre ea si o intreb cat pot de politicos (cum ar zice Elena "cu ochi de caprioara") daca nu imi poate da niste pasta de dinti. Alerg dupa periuta (am avut noroc sa-mi pun periuta in ghiozdan, CELE 2 PASTE DE DINTI PE CARE LE AM sunt in bagajul mare pe care nu il pot deschide!!) si ma comport ca dupa rascoala, spal dintii de vreo 10 ori!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ies afara si observ soferii care ne ofera foarte amiabili cate o cafea. Ma uit la Marius amuzata si il intreb daca acum e fericit. "Nu chiar" imi raspunde si apoi incepem sa radem. In pliant ni se ofera cafea pe toata durata calatoriei, in realitate se ofera cafea in dimineata asta si doar 1 cafea. Nu conteaza.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Incepem iar calatoria. Se vede ca suntem obositi, deoarece nu cred ca exista cineva care a avut parte de un somn odihnitor (desi ca timp, eu am bifat 8 ore in cap). Tragem un pic de conversatii, radem mai fortat, dar inca nu am scapat de sentimentul ca suntem intr-o excursie prin Europa. Uneori ma mai opresc din vorbit si ma uit pe geam. Incerc sa scap de gandurile negre pe care le am. Nu vreau sa constientizez ca am parasit tara, ca ma asteapta un drum lung cu un bagaj mare, ca o sa ajung intr-o tara in care nu o sa stiu limba si in care nu o sa mai pot suna pe cineva pentru a cere o mana de ajutor. Imaginile ce se perinda prin geam nu aduc a alta tara, aduc a Romania mai verde.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Marius ma bate pe umar si incepe sa imi povesteasca alta patanie de'a lui. Daca ar stii ce bine imi face dezinvoltura cu care trateaza calatoria. Panica din microbuzul de Targoviste-Sebes s-a evaporat instant dupa ce l-am cunoscut.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Memorez tarile prin care am trecut : Ucraina, Slovacia, Cehia.. si acum Germania. Eu, care nu am iesit niciodata din tara am deja in palmares 4 tari. OK, nu am vizitat nici o tara, dar am trecut prin ele! Ar trebui sa conteze si asta :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si uite ca am ajuns si in Germania. Oprim in port si asteptam feribotul. Prima calatorie cu feribotul!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1651043568623109402?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1651043568623109402/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/08/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant_14.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1651043568623109402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1651043568623109402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/08/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant_14.html' title='Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... Calatoria 3'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-693723536669973005</id><published>2011-08-08T22:49:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T22:49:06.132+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... Calatoria 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1EBw_da7BZk" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04.08.2011&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mergi cumva spre Oslo?" il intreb plina de speranta pe tipul din spatele meu.&lt;br /&gt;"Stokholm" imi raspunde el.&lt;br /&gt;Ma intorc la locul meu destul de dezamagita. Dar din spate aud o intrebare. Marius se uita la mine si parea ca vrea sa inceapa o conversatie. Ii raspund. Si apoi imi pune alta intrebare, si apoi incepe sa imi povesteasca aventurile pe care le-a avut in autobuz, fiind prima calatorie in afara fara familia lui. Fara sa imi dau seama, ajungem in Timisoara. Nu am simtit cum a mers masina, nu am mai vazut scaunele urate, nu am mai simtit caldura la fel de tare. L-am auzit pe Marius cum a povestit despre copii lui, despre sotia lui, despre patanii din copilarie. I-am mai povestit si eu cate ceva. Ne-am ras.&lt;br /&gt;La un popas, inainte de a ajunge in Sebes, Marius s-a dat jos din autocar pentru a fuma o tigara. Cum statea el de vorba linistit, a vrut sa isi verifice telefonul, insa nu l-a gasit. Linistit, a urcat in autobuz si s-a indreptat spre locurile din spate, unde era sigur ca i-a scapat din buzunar. Insa surpriza, cand a ajuns acolo, telefonul era de negasit. Panicat, s-a dus la soferul care dormise in spatele lui, pe scaunele din spate, si l-a intrebat de telefon. Acesta a ridicat din umeri si i-a dat telefonul personal "Incearca sa vezi daca iti raspunde cineva. Eu ma duc pana la toaleta ca nu mai pot!". Marius, stiind ca e telefonul soferului, l-a urmat indeaproape formand in acelasi timp numarul lui de telefon. Soferul mergea grabit si Marius dupa el. Se uita la telefon pentru a vedea daca s-a format si deodata, de langa el se aude soneria telefonului pierdut. Soferul se opreste in loc. Marius se uita la sofer. Soferul se uita spre buzunarul pantalonilor lui, Marius la fel. Soferul scoate telefonul din buzunar si ii spune lui Marius ca l-a luat din greseala de pe jos, dupa ce l-a confundat cu telefonul lui. Marius, stupefiat ia telefonul si nu stie ce sa faca. Macar si-a recuperat telefonul, nu? &lt;br /&gt;Vlad, saracutul, nu a fost asa de norocos. In Sebes (exact la popasul la care m-am urcat eu in autobuz), un nene l-a rugat sa ii arate 50 de euro ("ca nu stiu cum arata"), iar Vlad, baiat bun, a scos banii sa ii arate. Tipul a bagat mana in portofel si i-a sparlit banii. Ca sa vedeti de ce sunt in stare romanii!!&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi, in Timisoara, a trebuit sa ne restrangem pe cateva locuri. Din fericire, am reusit sa ma asez in spatele autocarului, pe ultimele scaune. A fost genial!!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Trebuia sa primim din partea casei cafea, iar Marius tot drumul a apasat pe butonul rosu zicand destul de tare "Cafeaaaa!". Apoi mai statea putin, iar apasa pe butonul rosu "Cafeaaaa!". Apoi ne mai uitam la Vlad si il mai intrebam daca are sa ne arate vreo hartie de 50 de euro, ca nu stim cum arata. Pe mine nu ma auzea. Din fericire!!! Apoi mai venea soferul cu pricina si Marius incepa sa il strige usor, ca intr-un cantec "Hotuleee". Nu stiu daca soferul rosea de la caldura sau de rusine. Nici nu cred ca o sa aflu vreodata.&lt;br /&gt;Fara sa ne dam seama, s-a facut indeajuns de tarziu. Am adormit rapid, dupa ce Marius mi-a cedat locul de la geam. Multumesc!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ClFH7032oN4/TkA4eQ7vIuI/AAAAAAAAAws/yYDktG-BKI8/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ClFH7032oN4/TkA4eQ7vIuI/AAAAAAAAAws/yYDktG-BKI8/s320/012.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Din pacate sau din fericire, nu am trecut prin oras, si tot ce am putut sa vad au fost copacii ( Dragi mei colegi, imi puteti spune ce specimene sunt? :D :)) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_gb-vdXVdgg/TkA4fXmmbxI/AAAAAAAAAww/go8l6XqPddg/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_gb-vdXVdgg/TkA4fXmmbxI/AAAAAAAAAww/go8l6XqPddg/s320/013.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4PdZ0K8xmO8/TkA4gUFywJI/AAAAAAAAAw0/HLiVRChCEm0/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4PdZ0K8xmO8/TkA4gUFywJI/AAAAAAAAAw0/HLiVRChCEm0/s320/018.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8zyB3xIPhaM/TkA4hVEW2MI/AAAAAAAAAw4/utVnpdjeNK8/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8zyB3xIPhaM/TkA4hVEW2MI/AAAAAAAAAw4/utVnpdjeNK8/s320/020.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-693723536669973005?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/693723536669973005/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/08/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant_1450.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/693723536669973005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/693723536669973005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/08/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant_1450.html' title='Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... Calatoria 2'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/1EBw_da7BZk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-3201172938210343034</id><published>2011-08-08T02:19:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T02:19:39.580+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... 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mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0cm; mso-para-margin-right:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0cm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: RO;"&gt;Am stat aseara cu fetele pana tarziu. Nu ar fi trebuit, dar m-am gandit ca 2 zile o sa tot dorm pe autobuz. Cine si-ar fi inchipui ca o sa ajung cu autobuzul in Norvegia? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: RO;"&gt;Nu am prea reusit sa ma odihnesc aseara. M-am tot trezit sa imi verific telefonul. Ba cat e ceasul, ba daca m-a cautat cineva. Poate reusesc sa gasesc un motiv pentru care sa termin calatoria inainte de a o incepe. Stiu ca am zis la toata lumea, dar nu prea cred ca intelege nimeni. MI-E FRICA! Daca ar veni cineva sa imi spuna ceva care m-ar face sa nu mai plec, as urla la el o ora, doar de vazul lumii, ca apoi sa-l pup si sa-l imbratisez cat pot de strans. Dar acum e prea tarziu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: RO;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;M-a trezit tata de dimineata si am inceput sa imi arunc chestii prin geamantan. E imens. Daca ma strofoc un pic, pot calatori direct in el. Reusim sa il inchidem cu greu, dupa ce si eu si mama ne asezam pe el, iar tata trage cu toata puterea de fermoar. Il ridic cu greu si refuz sa ma gandesc la ce voi face cand voi fi singura. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: RO;"&gt;Suntem in taxi, iar eu ma uit la toate cladirile pe langa care trecem. O dau in dramatisme, dar chiar zici ca ma duc la taiere. Daca mi se intampla ceva si nu imi mai aduc aminte cum arata casa mea? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: RO;"&gt;Tocmai s-au inchis usile dubitei. Ma uit la tata care imi face semne cu mana si fara sa imi dau seama lacrimile incep sa imi curga pe obraji. Scancesc ca un caine ranit, ii zambesc si imi intorc privirea. Nu as vrea sa isi aduca aminte de mine plangand toata. Drumul va fi lung si ma intreb ce o sa fac atatea zile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: RO;"&gt;Imi spusese tata ca o sa ma sui in autobuz la Sibiu si ma bucur ca scap de inghesuiala din masina. Cand ma urc in autobuz aflu ca trebuie sa il schimb in Sebes. Nu conteaza. Macar m-au ajutat cu bagajul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: RO;"&gt;Ma urc in ceea ce pare a fi autobuzul meu pana in Oslo. De la aerul conditionat din primul autocar, de la mirosul de parfum, de la curatenia de pe scaune, intru intr-un autocar ce seamana extrem de mult cu cel de Targoviste. Soferul imi spune ca locul meu este in spatele autobuzului si ma indrept tematoare acolo. 2 baieti se afla pe ultimele locuri, iar locul meu este langa o doamna. Avand in vedere ca autobuzul nu este ocupat in intregime, ma decid sa ma asez pe locurile libere. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: RO; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"&gt;Dupa drumul lung pe care l-am avut pana in Sibiu, neputand comunica cu nimeni timp de 6 ore, mi se urca un pitic in cap si ma intorc la persoana din spatele meu. „Mergi cumva spre Oslo?” il intreb pe tip plina de speranta.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Va continua... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-3201172938210343034?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/3201172938210343034/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/08/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant_08.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3201172938210343034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3201172938210343034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/08/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant_08.html' title='Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... Calatoria'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-3570282456377037866</id><published>2011-08-02T22:55:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T22:55:23.346+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... 1. Plecare!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Queen - I want to break free!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/balocea/4261297b5e3a3f.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=balocea&amp;hash=4261297b5e3a3f&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/balocea/4261297b5e3a3f.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=balocea&amp;hash=4261297b5e3a3f&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma uit la verdele crud al copacilor pe langa care trece autobuzul. Iar mi se umplu ochii de lacrimi si razand plang. Cat de idioata trebuie sa fiu pentru cei din jurul meu. "Fato, nu esti nici prima, nici ultima care pleaca din tara!" &amp;nbsp;Da, nu sunt, dar e prima oara cand plec eu din tara! La naiba, daca mi-as fi luat servetele. Dar cine se astepta sa bocesc? Astea nu sunt lacrimi de tristete. Sunt lacrimi de fericire, amestecate cu lacrimi de teama si lacrimi &amp;nbsp;de dor, lacrimi de ce o sa imi lipseasca (chiar si pentru 4 luni de zile, pentru cei ce cobesc!) si lacrimi pentru toti cei cu care o sa mai vb pe mess si atat!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sunt aceleasi lacrimi pe care le-am avut in anul 1, cand ma uitam spre Andreea prin geamul autobuzului. Totul a fost un ras si promisiuni de revederi din 2 in 2 saptamani, vizite in Brasov; totul a fost ok, pana am ajuns in cadrul geamului. Cand a ridicat mana sa imi ureze ramas bun, a oprit-o in aer si a inceput sa planga in hohote. S-a rupt ceva in mine, am dus mana la geam si mangaind geamul am inceput sa plang la randul meu. Vazandu-mi fata si realizand ca probabil exageram, Andreea a inceput sa rada printre lacrimi. Si eu. Plangeam razand. Sau radeam plangand.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Aceleasi emotii le traiesc si acum, numai ca mult mai intens. Nu o sa ma mai duc la Monica, intr-un loc in care toata lumea vorbeste romana, nu o sa mai stiu din amintiri locuri in care am fost cu ai mei. Nu o sa il mai sun pe unchiu' sa il intreb unde este strada pe care locuiesc, in timp ce eu sunt la 10 m de locul in care ar fi trebuit sa cotesc. Nu o sa ma mai ia sor'mea de mana pentru a ma duce in sala de clasa si a urla "Hei, ea e Cata!!!", lasandu-ma sa luminez sala cu roseata mea. Nu o sa mai vorbesc cu orele la telefon, sunandu-mi Bibiancele, Anele, Oanele si toti prietenii pana ce ajung acasa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Iar mi se umplu ochii de lacrimi. Idioata ce sunt! O vad pe Oana in statie si ma inmoi toata! Am un gol mare in stomac. Mai mare ca niciodata! Iti multumesc! Va multumesc!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Probabil urmatoarea postare (daca nu cumva ma hotaresc sa va scriu si maine) va fi scrisa din alta locatie si va avea ca subiect Stavanger. Sa speram ca vor fi si poze. Urati-mi noroc si un drum bun pentru ca Joi incepe aventura! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-3570282456377037866?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/3570282456377037866/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/08/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3570282456377037866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3570282456377037866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/08/cu-radacinile-mi-in-mana-caut-pamant.html' title='Cu radacinile-mi in mana, caut pamant fertil... 1. Plecare!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5618363111237943419</id><published>2011-07-29T02:08:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T09:43:43.394+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Va fi dor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Dealul cu dor - Pasărea Colibri&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/vgeoi/90022dc755cb65.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=vgeoi&amp;hash=90022dc755cb65&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/vgeoi/90022dc755cb65.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=vgeoi&amp;hash=90022dc755cb65&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu v-am spus ... dar in curand voi avea parte de o aventura! Se numeste Norvegia si va incepe joi!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu despre asta vreau sa va vorbesc, inca... ci despre ce simt. Nu, nu va voi umple de replici siropoase. Ci ganduri ... Atat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Am venit la laptop sa vad daca mi-a scris cineva. Din obisnuinta am deschis si Hotmail-ul. 16 mailuri. Pff. Se vede ca m-am inscris pe inca un grup de pe Facebook, deoarece iar mi se umple mailul cu cine stie ce porcarii. Le selectez pe toate si inainte sa dau Delete observ un mail de la UiS. Ma uit la subiect si cu litere mari scrie "Letter of Admission at University of Stavanger". Mana incepe sa imi tremure pe buton si inima imi bate de parca ar vrea sa iasa la soare. Inchid ochii si incerc sa ma linistesc. Imi spun in gand "1,2,3,4,5" si tot asa pana la 10, fara a avea succes. Deschid ochii si ma mai uit o data la mail. Imi este frica sa il deschid, deoarece nu inteleg cum as putea avea un asemenea noroc. Daca este o greseala? Revad lunga saptamana ce a trecut, in care am asteptat acest mail. Cate ore am stat in fata monitorului si am intrat intr-una pe mail. Imi pierdusem speranta, iar acum...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Trebuie sa primesc contractul. Am spus la ceva lume ca o sa plec, iar acum imi pare rau. Daca o sa fie probleme? Eu am dat cu gura in stanga si in dreapta, si parca vad ca o sa fiu nevoita sa ma plimb cu o cutie de pamant langa mine. Sa am unde sa imi ascund capul. Ca strutii!! Stiu ca nu ar fi trebuit sa spun, insa luna trecuta cand am citit scrisoarea de admitere, am sunat toti prietenii sa le spun ca plec. Apoi am si postat pe Facebook. Damn! Cred ca probleme am sigur!!! La cap! Nu stiu sa mai fi fost atat de entuziasmata de ceva. Iar entuziasmul, la care am adaugat sperantele si emotiile, mi-au provocat nebunie temporara ce s-a soldat cu titlul de ziar local "PLEC IN NORVEGIA!!".&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Domnisoara Vasile, e gata" o aud pe d-na secretara si in mana ei se afla contractul. Imi pare ca se misca foarte incet, de parca ar vrea sa fie capturata intr-o secventa slow motion, iar contractul pare inconjurat de o lumina divina. Totul depinde de el!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tata ma suna sa imi spuna ca merge spre agentie sa cumpere biletul. Acum este sigur ca plec. Emotiile ce au stat ascunse pana acum incep sa se strecoare printre ganduri si prin corp. Ca mici impulsuri electrice, isi fac loc in fiecare muschi. Mai devreme, cand am vorbit cu Honey, nu am lasat-o sa termine ce avea de spus deoarece ma propulsam cu doua saptamani in timp si ma vedeam in Norvegia asteptand trenul si neputand sa o sun pe ea. Sau in statie. Sau in drum spre vreun loc. Nu o sa o mai sun pe ea. Si nici ea pe mine. Ca o sa coste al dracu de scump. Nu am lasat-o sa termine si am intrebat-o ce o sa ma fac fara ea. De dimineata o auzeam pe Iris cum se pregatea de munca si pe Vali cum ii spunea ca e ok. Nu am stat cu ei. Nu i-am auzit niciodata asa. Dar o sa stau si maine dimineata sa ii ascult. Chit ca apoi o sa adorm. Oana... mica Oana. Si Ana. Si mama. Si tata... Ufff! Suna iar telefonul si imi intrerupe sirul de oameni pe care vreau sa ii vad cu ochii mintii. E tata ce imi cere numarul de pasaport. I-l dau si imi inchide rapid, deoarece mai are de vorbit cu agentul. Trag o gura de aer si ma imbarbatez. Hei! Nu ma duc la taiere, ci in Norvegia!!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum. E seara si e liniste. Plec pentru cateva luni, sper ca poate mai mult, insa sunt sigura ca o sa ma gandesc la voi toti! Nu sunt nici prima care pleaca, nu o sa fiu nici ultima, insa e prima oara cand ies din tara, si fie-mi cu iertare, dar am niste emotii imense! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5618363111237943419?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5618363111237943419/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/07/va-fi-dor.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5618363111237943419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5618363111237943419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/07/va-fi-dor.html' title='Va fi dor...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7813870007488451212</id><published>2011-07-28T02:57:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T02:57:11.171+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Miraj ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Stau chircita si ma uit cu frica la umbra ce se apropie de patul meu. Simt lacrimi ce mi se preling pe obraz si incerc din rasputeri sa nu respir, pentru a nu-i atrage atentia. O mana imi lipeste cu putere ceafa de perete si o alta imi imobilizeaza mainile. Daca as fi fost intr-un film, probabil as fi putut ridica un picior, i-as fi bagat mainile in ochi, as fi putut face ceva sa scap din stransoarea lui, insa realitatea este cruda, iar singura miscare pe care o pot face este de fapt un tremur continuu ce nu pare sa il afecteze cu nimic. Incerc sa ii vad trasaturile fetei, insa intunericul il ascunde foarte bine. Parca ar fi un portret obscur de'al lui Picasso. Chip distorsionat ce pare a fi un barbat. Poate panica se dovedeste a fi dusmanul meu desavarsit, avand in vedere ca daca mi-ar da drumul as ramane in aceasi pozitie in care m-a lasat. As vrea sa stau cu ochii inchisi, insa inca mai sper ca o lumina il va trada si voi fi in stare sa il recunosc.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Pe neasteptate, se intoarce in directia opusa si o ia la fuga. Imi este frica sa ma misc, dar un mugure de speranta rasare in mintea mea. Rasuflu usurata si imi duc mainile la stomac pentru a incerca sa iau durerea de stomac. Asa patesc mereu cand traiesc vreo emotie puternica. Ceva cald incepe sa curga printre degetele lipite de burta si ma uit in sus pentru a vedea daca s-a spart vreo teava. Trec cateva secunde in care caut cu ardoare ceva care sa picure din tavan si apoi ma inmoi ca o carpa si cad usor pe mocheta. Iau mana ce este imbibata in acest lichid caldut si o pun in dreptul fetei. De parca ar fi fost un semn divin, de afara se iveste o lumina, cat pentru a putea vedea clar roseata in care imi este imbracata mana. Apoi iar intuneric.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Deschid ochii speriata. Sunt plina de sudoare. Primul gest pe care il fac este acela de a-mi pipai burta. Nu e nimic taiat. Realizez ca pe fata am lacrimi uscate, semn ca iar am plans in realitate din cauza unui vis. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7813870007488451212?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7813870007488451212/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/07/miraj.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7813870007488451212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7813870007488451212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/07/miraj.html' title='Miraj ...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5487854345185739209</id><published>2011-07-24T14:01:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T03:05:18.697+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>We are the people ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Empire Of The Sun - We Are The People&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/fhad/7cfedb3c982082.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=fhad&amp;hash=7cfedb3c982082&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/fhad/7cfedb3c982082.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=fhad&amp;hash=7cfedb3c982082&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Merg pe strada, tinand strans in maini cartea ce mi-a acaparat atentia de ceva vreme. Nu stiu cum as reactiona daca as afla ca am o boala incurabila. Sau ma rog, cu slabe sanse de supravietuire. Dupa fiecare pagina pe care o citesc, ma gandesc la miile de copii care trec prin asa ceva. Ajung sa traiasca o viata de spital, sa invete termeni de care multa lume nu a auzit si sa stie cum se administreaza medicamentele pe care le primesc. Dar nu, nu vreau sa mai am imaginea unui copil fara de par, cu trupul micut prins de cine stie ce aparat monstru.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Imi indrept privirile spre mediul in care ma aflu. Strada este plina de oameni care isi vad de drum mai repede sau mai incet. Oare ei la ce se gandesc? Fiecare are cate o problema de dimensiuni colosale... in viziunea lui. Si cine sunt ceilalti sa spuna ca nu este asa. Probabil tipul cel incruntat care merge apasat s-a despartit de iubita lui. La cat de adanca este cuta de pe frunte sunt sigura ca a fost inselat. Iar femeia ce isi duce cumparaturile ca pe o povara isi doreste sa ajunga la casa ei, pentru a se aseza pe un scaun si a sta linistita o secunda. M-am lecuit in a ajuta oameni ce cara pungi de cumparaturi. Ultima oara era sa fiu fugarita, deoarece o babuta a crezut ca vreau sa ii fur cumparaturile si mai ca incepuse sa urle "hoata" in mijlocul centrului. Ce frumos pare cuplul din fata. Probabil a fost dragoste la prima vedere in cazul lor! S-au vazut si au stiut ca isi apartin unul altuia. Se tin de mana si se uita cu drag unul la celalalt. Am vazut si cupluri care nu se potrivesc. Incerc sa ma gandesc de ce sunt impreuna. Poate pentru ca se cunosc de mici si sunt atat de obisnuiti unul cu celalalt, incat cel mai firesc pas este sa isi cladeasca viata impreuna. Sau poate destinul a hotarat ca trebuie sa incerce sa il puna pe el langa ea, pentru ca apoi sa ii dea ceva mai bun. Sau pe ea langa el, pentru ca apoi sa aiba o viata linistita in care nu o sa se gandeasca cu regret la ce a fost odata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Un baietel mic, se opreste in dreptul meu, fortand-o pe bunica de a carei mana se tine sa se opreasca la randu-i,&amp;nbsp; si se uita atent la mine. Ii zambesc, stiind ca desi nu ma descurc pe langa copii, acestia intotdeauna vor zambi cand imi vor vedea chipl destins. Asta se si intampla. Baietelul intinde o mana spre mine si rade. Imi scapa un chicotit si ma aplec pentru a-i prinde manuta, insa bunica il ia in brate si ii spune pe un ton ce se vrea a fi cat mai placut "hai sa nu o deranjam pe tanti".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Strang la piept cartea ce mi-a acaparat atentia de ceva vreme si ma uit la copilasul ce a si uitat ca m-a vazut vreodata, deoarece calutul rosu din vitrina este mult mai interesant. Oare va apuca sa isi traisca viata la maxim? Sa traiasca o poveste de iubire, chiar daca nu o va finaliza cu un altar, sa faca la randul lui o mica creatura, sa care de plase pline de cumparaturi, sa ajunga la batranete si sa se rasteasca la galagiosii din fata blocului? Ii doresc sa da! Dumnezeule ai grija sa da... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5487854345185739209?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5487854345185739209/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/07/we-are-people.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5487854345185739209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5487854345185739209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/07/we-are-people.html' title='We are the people ...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2629847991688894713</id><published>2011-07-14T00:02:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T00:02:09.682+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><title type='text'>Nostalgic... poate!</title><content type='html'>Ma uit cu nostalgie la pozele din copilarie si ma gandesc cu drag la momentele in care le-am facut.&lt;br /&gt;Dintr-un cadru alb-negru imi zambeste cu gura pana la urechi Catalina ce am fost. Este mica si cu parul buclat, si toata un zambet. In urmatoarea poza, aceasi Catalina, imi arata fundul, in timp ce sta culcata pe o canapea si incearca sa isi atinga varfurile picioarelor, cu mainile, fara a le indoi. Chestie complicata dom'le, ce ii pare foarte interesanta fotografului. Sunt curioasa daca ar mai avea acelasi farmec sa repet figura la varsta asta. Sau daca m-ar poza cineva. Ba m-ar poza, dar nu ca sa puna poza in album, ci ca sa ma poata identifica personalul de la spitalul de nebuni. Hai mai bine sa trec de poza asta, ca iar imi aduc aminte de nunta la care cameramanul a facut un intreg moment din fundul meu! Chit ca eram mica si simpatica, 30 de min in care ii arat fundul cameramanului si apoi ma stramb la el sunt departe de a fi o amintire placuta peste ani si ani!&lt;br /&gt;Acum, ma priveste din poza o Catalina mai maricica (si la propriu si la figurat). Sta langa o Catrinel mica si se uita cu pofta la sandwichurile intinse pe masa din bucatarie. Traditia noastra. La zilele de nastere, mama facea sandwichuri cu de toate si apoi le insira pe toate pe masa. Fiecare venea si se servea. Dar cata pofta vad in ochii mei. Zici ca mi-a incuiat mama frigiderul vreo cateva zile.&lt;br /&gt;O shit! Am uitat de pozele astea. Pozele pe care nu le voi uita niciodata (daca sunteti extrem de cuminti, in cateva sute de ani o sa le postez pe aici).&lt;br /&gt;Poza nr. 1 : Aniversarea de 14 ani. Abia ne cumparasem aparatul foto si tata incerca sa prinda toate momentele. Ma uit fericita la tortul mare, cu 14 lumanari aprinse. Arata apetisant si se vede din poza ca imi doresc din suflet sa imi pun o dorinta. Dorinta mea mare de atunci era sa se taie mai repede tortul. Acum ar fi sa il mananc singura! :)))&lt;br /&gt;Poza nr. 2 : Aceasi aniversare. Numai ca acum, se vede o Catalina care sufla cu putere spre un tort ce pare ca isi ia zborul imediat. Nu stiu cum a reusit taica-miu sa prinda cadrul asta, dar imaginea iti sugereaza ca sunt pe cale sa provoc un taifun, nicicum sa sting lumanarile unui tort. Si asta pentru ca "efectele speciale" prinse in poze dau senzatia ca tortul va fi luat de vant! Vantul meu :))). A doua zi de la aparitia acestor poze, o prietena (Bianca, nici acum nu te-am uitat!!! :))) ) a avut bunavointa sa arate poza intregii parcari. Nu va pot spune de cate ori am trecut pe langa grupuri din parcare ce mimau "suflatul" meu spre tort.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Va continua ... cel mai probabil! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2629847991688894713?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2629847991688894713/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/07/nostalgic-poate.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2629847991688894713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2629847991688894713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/07/nostalgic-poate.html' title='Nostalgic... poate!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-722532266345229846</id><published>2011-06-17T19:45:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T01:16:17.693+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Inima rosie...</title><content type='html'>"Si... mai spune-ne o data ce s-a intamplat!"&lt;br /&gt;"Imi cautam micul dejun intr-un tomberon. De obicei nu sunt treaz la ora asta, insa aseara nu am reusit sa gasesc indeajuns de multa bautura. Sau stati, nu era tomberon. Chestia aia verde pe care o lasa oamenii la poarta... Cum se numeste oare?" isi duse mana la tampla si se uita incruntat inspre oglinda. "Nu mai stiu cum se numeste. In orice caz, e pe strada aceea, la casa de langa alimentara". Se opri din povestit pentru a se asigura ca a inteles toata lumea&lt;br /&gt;"Asa, continua..."&lt;br /&gt;"Dupa cum va spuneam. Imi cautam ceva de mancare, cand a aparut ea de dupa colt, imbracata cu fusta alba cu picatele rosii si cu o bluza mai deschisa la culoare, ce avea o inima rosie stralucitoare in dreptul sanilor. Avea un mers lin si un zambet cald pe buze. Nu stiu daca frumusetea poate fi descrisa intr-un anume fel, dar zambetul si increderea pe care o emana pareau sa o puna intr-o lumina aparte si sa ii dea o frumusete cum nu am mai vazut" Iar se opri din vorbit si golul spre care se uita parca se umpluse de o fusta alba cu picatele rosii si o inima rosie stralucitoare.&lt;br /&gt;"Continua..."&lt;br /&gt;"Da." ii scapa un oftat scurt "Asa. Desigur ca m-am uitat gura casca la ea. Ea m-a vazut, mi-a zambit si apoi si-a intors privirea spre telefonul la care tasta de zor. Cand a trecut pe langa mine, am simtit un parfum dulceag, dar nu din acela care te ineaca. Pentru ca sa va spun, sunt multe cucoane care se dau cu parfumuri d'alea de ma fac sa ma bucur ca locuiesc intr-o cutie la groapa de gunoi. Dar nu. Ea avea un parfum dulceag, ce te lua de barbie si te facea sa te plimbi dupa el, ca in desenele animate. Da. Ca in desenele animate." iar se opri.&lt;br /&gt;"Deci iti placea de ea?"&lt;br /&gt;"O! Da! Foarte mult! Nu numai faptul ca era atat de draguta la chip si la port, ci pentru ca nu s-a uitat la mine cu scarba."&lt;br /&gt;"Si apoi, ce s-a intamplat?"&lt;br /&gt;"Va spuneam ca avea un parfum foarte bun. A trecut pe langa mine. Eu, tineam in mana un cutit fara maner pe care il gasisem in tomberon. Stati. Nu in tomberon. In lucrul acela verde in care isi arunca oamenii gunoaiele si apoi le pun la poarta. Nu stiu cum se numeste. Dar ... Da, tineam un cutit fara maner in mana. Si ea era atat de frumoasa. Avea un zambet atat de cald. Si de la spate, i se misca fundul atat de frumos. Nu era nimic vulgar. Era frumos." se opri si isi balansa o mana de parca ar fi vrut sa transforme unduirea fundului intr-o melodie.&lt;br /&gt;"Si apoi?"&lt;br /&gt;"M-am grabit sa o ajung din urma. Am prins-o de brat si am intors-o cu fata de mine. Voiam sa ii spun ca este cea mai frumoasa femeie pe care am vazut-o. Dar ea, s-a smucit din mana mea si m-a intrebat nervoasa care este problema mea." se opri putin si incepu mai cu patos "Ba nu, nu era doar suparare sau nervi, era si frica! Ii era frica de mine!! Atunci i-am infipt cutitul in burta" si se opri. Putea vedea si acum momentul in care a scos cutitul din rana si cum pe bluza ei se forma o pata rosie aprinsa. Si inima de pe bluza atat de stralucitoare.&lt;br /&gt;"Si apoi?"&lt;br /&gt;"Si-a pus mainile in dreptul ranii si a ridicat ochii spre mine. Nu mai vedeam in ei linistea si increderea de mai devreme. Era doar frica. Si am mai infipt o data cutitul in burta. Si inca o data. Si inca o data. Nu voiam sa ii mai vad frica din ochi" in privirea lui aparu o stralucire pe care nu o vazusera pana atunci. Puteau vedea adrenalina ce iesea la suprafata cand vorbea de fapta pe care o savarsise.&lt;br /&gt;"Si apoi?"&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;"Inca mai vedeam frica in ochii ei. Si vedeam cum straluceste inima aceea nenorocita! Si i-am bagat cutitul in inima." Tacu. Inca mai simtea sangele cald cu care isi udase obrazul si inca mai simtea cum se prelinge sangele de pe cutit. In sfarsit, nu mai putea vedea inima stralucitoare. Zambea .&lt;br /&gt;"Si, in cele din urma, de ce ai omorat-o? Spuneai ca iti placea de ea. Spuneai ca ... era frumoasa"&lt;br /&gt;"Eu ce sa ii fac? Daca ii era frica de mine? Trebuia sa ma lase sa ii spun ca e frumoasa. Trebuia sa imi zambeasca! Trebuia sa fie increzatoare! Cum am vazut-o!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-722532266345229846?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/722532266345229846/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/06/inima-rosie.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/722532266345229846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/722532266345229846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/06/inima-rosie.html' title='Inima rosie...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2124409564514060648</id><published>2011-06-13T11:45:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T11:45:10.005+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunt ca o pereche de pantofi ... cu toc inalt!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Pink - Don't Let Me Get Me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/stelu32/8a2018dc1f5351.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=stelu32&amp;hash=8a2018dc1f5351&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/stelu32/8a2018dc1f5351.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=stelu32&amp;hash=8a2018dc1f5351&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sunt ca o pereche de pantofi cu toc inalt... Iti place sa ii ai si sa stie lumea ca ii ai, dar cand vine vorba sa ii porti, iti fac niste bataturi in talpa de toata frumusetea!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;De ce am inceput asa postarea? Pentru ca datorita unor evenimente recente am ajuns la o intrebare existentiala cam penibila : Oare sunt cine vreau sa fiu? Si cand ma intreb asta, ma refer strict la personalitatea mea vulcanica si la relatiile pe care le-am cladit cu cei din jur. Adica, pana nu de mult aveam impresia ca toata lumea te place asa cum esti, sau cel putin daca nu te mai place, s-a obisnuit cu tine si stie ce ai sub straturile de suprafata. Fiecare ne schimbam in functie de situatiile prin care trecem. Corect? Si teoretic, si ceilalti evolueaza in continuu! D'aia suntem oameni, sa invatam din greselile noastre. Chit ca ne invatam prost si o dam in bara mai rau decat fara "invatatura".&amp;nbsp; Ei bine, daca va distrug acest mit urban (cum ar zice prietenii nostrii de pe Discovery) imi ridicati o statuie? Sau poate mai multe statui, in toate resedintele de judet (de preferinta, si daca vreti sa va limitati doar la Ro)!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;* In cazul in care nu intelegeti despre ce mit urban este vorba, vi-l subliniez, pentru a nu lasa loc de subintelesuri : "Lumea te place asa cum esti!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Total gresit! Lumea nu te place deloc asa cum esti! Lumea te place atunci cand esti cum vor ei sa fii!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;1. Cand esti sincer, poti fii sincer pana la momentul in care trebuie sa imbraci sinceritatea astfel incat sa nu raneasca pe cineva de langa tine. De la ton, la mimica, la gesturi, sinceritatea trebuie calculata si gandita mult inainte de a fi infatisata! Cica s-ar numi diplomatie! Daca nu ai diplomatie (si eu, ca tot vb de sinceritate, trebuie sa va spun ca atunci cand vine vb de prietenii mei, imi lipseste cu desavarsire aceasta calitate) o sa ai mult de munca pentru a lamuri persoanele cu care esti sincer ca nu le vrei raul! In concluzie, daca esti o om sincer incearca sa fii sincer si placut in acelasi timp. Adica in loc sa spui "Parca arati ca o mangusta fara par in rochia asta" trebuie sa spui "Nu te avantajeaza la solduri". Intelegeti voi ideea!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;2. Cand esti ironic, ai grija care este subiectul ironiilor tale! Din experienta mea umila, va pot spune ca ironiile nu atrag decat priviri extrem de urate (sunt amunzante, dar foarte rele! foarte foarte rele!!). Mai ales atunci cand le folosesti pe post de arma. Mai ales cand indrepti arma spre prietenii tai! Asa ca.. in loc de ironiile care iti usuca limba, mai bine arunci cu flori. Eventual fara ghivece, ca alea lasa urme adanci. Sau prea colorate(urme prea colorate, gen vanatai!). Cand ti se pare ca esti incoltit, incearca sa raspunzi cum ar fi facut-o Iisus : intorcand si celalalt obraz! De ce? Pentru ca ti se pare! Niciodata, un prieten, nu va face misto de tine si nu te va incolti! NICIODATA!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;3. Cand te deranjeaza ceva foarte tare si o spui o data, de doua ori, de 10 ori, si observi ca nu te asculta nimeni... Las-o balta! Nu te mai repeta! Intelege ca nu te asculta nimeni. Nu din rautate, ci pentru ca nu le pasa. Hmmm. Ba le pasa, dar nu conteaza acel ceva care te deranjeaza! In schimb daca pe ei ii deranjeaza ceva, asculta si baga la cap, caci popa nu tine slujba de doua ori pentru o baba surda!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;4. Cand te schimbi... Ce se intampla cand numai tu esti cel care se schimba? Aici as vrea sa fac o paranteza la satira in devenire si sa va intreb cat se poate de serios : Cum poti evita schimbarea?? As vrea sa ma amuz pe acest subiect, dar nu o pot face, insa sunt cat se poate de deschisa la sugestii!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;5. Cand renunti la teatru si esti tu cel adevarat. Hai sa nu ne mai invartim atat dupa deget! Toti jucam teatru si ne place la nebunie sa purtam masti. Este una dintre cele mai vechi meserii pe care am mostenit-o de la stramosi! Sa ne prefacem si sa evitam sa ne descoperim cu totul. Dar ce te faci cand obosesti? Cand pur si simplu nu mai ai chef sa iti pui masca? Ce faci cand realizezi ca tu, cel de sub masca esti mai sensibil si te simti singur? Ei bine, iti tragi masca inapoi si zambesti ca si pana atunci. Deoarece daca ai zambetul pe fata totul trece mai usor! Sau cel putin asa am citit in Cosmo acu' vreun an. Sper ca a fost dat cineva afara dupa ce a aparut articolul ala, ca eu sincer zambesc al naibii de mult si pe cuvantul meu ca exceptand inducerea in eroare pe care o cauzez celorlalti nu trec mai usor de nimic!&lt;br /&gt;6. Cand esti criticat din toate partile. Ei bine prietene, cand ai ajuns la situatia asta inseamna ca ai dat-o in bara rau de tot! Ai clar o problema (sau o multitudine de probleme) si trebuie sa o rezolvi rapid, ca de la critici la dos (dosul unui prieten care se indeparteaza usor, dar definitiv de tine) nu mai ramane decat un pas!!&lt;br /&gt;Toate punctele de mai sus ar trebui sa sublinieze motivele pentru care lumea nu te place asa cum esti. Sau tu nu placi lumea asa cum este (hellooo, orice sabie are 2 taisuri!!).&lt;br /&gt;As vrea sa nu cititi printre randuri, deoarece nu este nimic acolo! Tot ce scrie aici este un pamflet la adresa mea, deoarece eu indeplinesc toate cele 6 puncte de mai sus sau cataloghez dupa aceste 6 puncte. Daca mai gasiti motive pentru care nu va place lumea asa cum sunteti, motive la care nu m-am gandit, sunteti liberi sa completati postarea!&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi nu uitati : Sunt ca o pereche de pantofi cu toc inalt... Iti place sa ii ai si sa  stie lumea ca ii ai, dar cand vine vorba sa ii porti, iti fac niste  bataturi in talpa de toata frumusetea!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2124409564514060648?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2124409564514060648/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/06/sunt-ca-o-pereche-de-pantofi-cu-toc.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2124409564514060648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2124409564514060648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/06/sunt-ca-o-pereche-de-pantofi-cu-toc.html' title='Sunt ca o pereche de pantofi ... cu toc inalt!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5435733290967414589</id><published>2011-06-07T20:44:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T20:44:24.261+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunt erou ... dar nu acum!</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/m0bt_9Qiznc" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Astazi, ca si ieri, ca si alaltaieri, a fost o zi mai lunga. Nu am avut o singura ocupatie, insa nici nu am fost plina pana peste cap de lucruri ce nu suporta amanare. Intamplator, a trebuit sa merg si pana la banca sa scot o suma mai marisoara de bani.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si ma indreptam eu copacel, copacel spre banca cand langa un 4X4 negru, se afla un baiat negricios ce se uita in jurul lui si baga mana prin geamul intredeschis. Primul meu gand a fost ca tipul este un hot. Avea o fata dubioasa si se comporta ca un individ ce se teme ca ar putea fi prins asupra faptului. Si-a ridicat capul spre mine si pentru o fractiune de secunda m-am uitat in ochii lui. Acum stiam sigur ca este un hot. Cel putin, asa imi spunea instinctul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Daca va asteptati la o poveste care se termina cu mine tinandu-l pe respectivul baiat in fata proprietarului masinii si eventual chemand politia, va inselati si puteti inchide linistiti pagina pentru ca nu as vrea sa ma judecati si nici sa imi pierd urma de respect pe care cred ca o am din partea casei. Mi-am uitat hainele de erou acasa si am facut ceea ce face o Romanie intreaga cand vede un infractor... intoarce capul si isi vede de drum!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Am inceput sa imi caut scuze cum ca mai bine ma fac ca nu vad, deoarece nu as vrea sa ma urmareasca si sa imi fure urma de bani pe care vreau sa o scot. Sau poate nici macar nu este un ciorditor de speta joasa (eee daca s-a bagat asa la un Touareg cu siguranta nu e un ciorditor infim) si poate este nepotul proprietarului care vrea sa asculte muzica, dar nu deschide usa. Daca o dau in penibil si creez o mare flacara acolo unde nu e decat o scanteie? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Vinovatia a inceput sa ma plesneasca peste ceafa si m-am uitat in jurul meu pentru a vedea daca totusi nu pot scoate tricoul cu &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt; (Super Cata, in cazul in care nu v-ati prins!). Mda, 2 doamne care merg pe langa mine, si mai multi "neni" pe langa o masina, fix langa 4X4. Vinovatia s-a oprit din palmuit si ne-am pus amandoua pe gandit. Nu cumva imi fac mustrari de constiinta degeaba? Adica eu care sunt la distanta pot vedea culpabilitatea din ochii baiatului si oamenii in toata firea de la 5 pasi de el nu vad nici o problema in atitudinea lui? Am rasuflat greu si m-am postat in fata bancomatului. Am scos banii si cu ochii in 4 m-am indepartat de locul faptei.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu sunt mandra de atitudinea mea. Imi caut scuze cum ca sunt fata, cum ca ma putea urmari la camin si aici nu stiu pe nimeni care mi-ar putea sari in ajutor in cazul in care apare vreo gasca pusa pe scandal.. Si cate si mai cate alte scuze. Intotdeauna sper ca atunci cand va fi cu adevarat ceva important sa nu clachez si sa nu se intample vreo nenorocire pe care as putea-o intampina, insa daca ma raportez la amanunte micute, precum acesta, realizez ca intr-o situtatie mai dificila ... Dar hai sa nu o spun cu voce tare si sa raman cu speranta ca daca imi va sta in putinta voi preveni ...&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5435733290967414589?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5435733290967414589/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/06/sunt-erou-dar-nu-acum.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5435733290967414589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5435733290967414589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/06/sunt-erou-dar-nu-acum.html' title='Sunt erou ... dar nu acum!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/m0bt_9Qiznc/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-3455507580412546340</id><published>2011-06-03T18:54:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T11:55:34.997+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>When the beer gets out of hand, the words do the same!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;no doubt - i'm just a girl&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/hybrid4u/449809198e5b50.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=hybrid4u&amp;hash=449809198e5b50&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/hybrid4u/449809198e5b50.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=hybrid4u&amp;hash=449809198e5b50&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;If you don't understand any of the things written here, well, feel free to ask anything :)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;When things get complicated, clap your hands, take a deep breath and punch the sun of a ... who complicates them!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm a simple girl and I live a simple life. I hate pink, but I love Pink, I hate getting up in the morning, but I love smelling the morning air, I like cutting my hair, but I love waving it as soon as I hear the sound of Within Temptation's "Ice Queen". Sometimes I don't know what I want in life, but there's always someone that helps me find myself. Why am I telling you all this? Cause this is one of the few moments when i want to be honest. And this is one of those moments when I don't know where I am and I don't know where to ask for instructions. I lost my "What to do when there's no way out" handbook.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Maybe is the beer talking, maybe it's my time of the month, maybe is just who I am, maybe this is a coincidence and you are reading the wrong page, the truth is&amp;nbsp; that I need you in my life. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;This is all for you! I need you to tell me that I'm great and that even if I say some stupid nonsense you understand me completely. You, the one that makes me see myself as the best there is. Some say that behind a great man is a smart woman, I say that behind a smart woman is a great fuck. :)) Joke. Let's get back to where I was.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hey you! Missed me? I'm back! Back on the blog, back at my life, back at myself. I missed you too. Well... not just you, I missed your sugar free coffee, even if I love it with extra sugar, I missed your fake smile at my lousy joke, I missed your hand on my back and the ...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Will you marry me? Yes, I'm talking with you! I want to merry you. OK, not you, but your smile, your eyes, your mouth, your hands, your walk, your words, your everything. I want to live with them for the rest of my life! I want to get up in the morning and drink that lousy coffee that you are so proud of, I want to argue with you on how to make the bed or on where should my books stay, next to your video games or on top of them. I want to yell at you cause you never let me take my shower in the morning, and I want you to always come at me with your silly explication "it's your fault, cause I get naked when you take your bath". I want to look at my phone all day long and wait for that text where you tell me that you have a sexy client, just to make me angry. Cause you know how angry I get when you start with your female stories. I want to walk with you in the park, hand in hand, even if I hate it! Actually, I stopped hating it since I've known you. But I won't give you the satisfaction of telling you that, i know you'll get cocky. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;That's not all, but I want to eat a cookie before I finish! Ah, it's not the greatest cookie&amp;nbsp; ever, but hey, you still can't remember that I hate vanilla!!! I hate you not remembering, but hey, you can't be perfect, no? If you like vanilla, but agree to see the movies I like, I won't get so cranky! Honest!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-3455507580412546340?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/3455507580412546340/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-beer-gets-out-of-hand-words-do.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3455507580412546340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3455507580412546340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-beer-gets-out-of-hand-words-do.html' title='When the beer gets out of hand, the words do the same!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-729717470024795938</id><published>2011-05-02T08:00:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T08:00:03.450+03:00</updated><title type='text'>El la mine ... dar Ei la noi?</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;The Script  -  For The First Time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/bloggeron/c2c57b0927cc0e.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=bloggeron&amp;hash=c2c57b0927cc0e&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/bloggeron/c2c57b0927cc0e.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=bloggeron&amp;hash=c2c57b0927cc0e&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Via Adrian - &lt;a href="http://t1t4ny4.wordpress.com/" style="color: red;"&gt;Titanya&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Inainte de a da drumul povestii pe care, sincer sa fiu, inca nu am ales-o, trebuie sa va spun ca ceea voi face alaturi de „Just Cata”&amp;nbsp; va reprezenta o premiera pentru mine. Nu stiu daca ea a mai facut-o pana acum, insa pentru mine e „for the first time”. Suna romantic, nu-i asa? Si eu m-as gandi la fel si fel de lucruri, insa va rog frumos sa nu va ganditi la chestii interzise minorilor pentru ca nu este acel „for the first time” din piesa celor de la &lt;b&gt;The Script&lt;/b&gt;, ci este ceva cu totul si cu totul diferit. Ei bine, pentru a nu va mai tine pe jar, eu si Cata vom face un schimb. Nu va fi un schimb de parteneri pentru ca nu avem (sau, ai Cata ?) si nici de altceva (desi cainele ala de mai sus e dragut, am si eu unul, asa ca...) viu, ci va fi un schimb de bloguri. Cu alte cuvinte, va fi un schimb de postari. Adica eu pe ea si ea pe mine, sau ea va posta pe Titanya (link) si eu voi posta, de fapt postez chiar acum, pe „Just Cata”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Sincer sa fiu, nu prea am ideea ce va posta ea pe blogul nostru (eu si daninho), insa sunt absolut convins ca va fi ceva super tare si super atractiv pentru toti cititorii. Sa fiu si mai sincer, daca pot sa ma exprim asa, nici eu nu prea stiu ce o sa postez pe blogul pe care „ma plimb” in prezent, fapt pentru care voi face un apel. As apela la cititori, insa asta este imposibil, fapt pentru care voi apela la propria memorie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Hm...despre ce sa scriu eu oare? Gata, stiu. Voi scrie ceva despre Australia, tara-continent in care am locuit in perioada 2008-2011. Dar ce pot scrie despre Australia pentru a nu adormi cititorii ? Canguri ? Nu. Nu suntem la Animal Planet aici. Kylie Minogue? Neh. Cred ca e satula lumea de ea. Mancarea australienilor ? No. Nici nu vreau sa-mi amintesc de obezii aia! Caldura, plaja, Great Barrier Reef, insule exotice etc ? Nicidecum. Inca e rece in Romania, asa ca nu vreau sa-mi amintesc de faptul ca am renuntat la locul ala ciumeg. Daca nici una, nici alta, despre ce naiba as putea vorbi ? Aaa, gata, stiu, voi vorbi despre „contactele” mele cu civilizatia de acolo, cu oamenii locului, cu strainii veniti in Australia din toate colturile lumii, cu fetele pe care le-am intalnit, cu parerile lor (nu doar a fetelor) despre Romania. Daca toata lumea este pregatita: actiune-motor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Daca nu stiati, Australia este un fel de magnet pentru absolut toate nationalitatile existente pe Glob. De la americani, sarbi, croati, canadieni, japonezi, chinezi, indieni, columbieni, arabi, argentinieni, coreeni, si lista poate continua la nesfarsit, orice etnie o poti intalni acolo. Ca de obicei, in momentul in care intalnesti un strain, formalitatile se rezuma la un dialog de genul: Where are&amp;nbsp; you from?…I’m from…iar apoi, in functie de caz, conversatia se dezvolta sau..daca nu,&amp;nbsp; se sfarseste &amp;nbsp;printr-un mediocru “Ok! See you next time! (un fel de “pleaca ba de aci ca ma plictisesti”). Spre surprinderea mea, majoritatea persoanele pe care le-am intalnit nu erau total pe dinafara la subiectul “Romania” &amp;nbsp;( R ), in sensul ca mai stiau cate ceva. Primul strain pe care l-am intalnit a fost… ia sa vedem cine ghiceste…un Australian?-gresit!…un Chinez ? -surprinzator, dar de asemenea gresit. Hai sa nu mai prelungesc tensiunea si sa va spun ca primul pe care l-am intalnit a fost un turc. Da, un turc pe nume Kerem (el isi spunea Kevin). Conform asteptarilor era as la subiectul “R”, nici n-avea cum sa fie altfel avand in vedere ca era microbist. Am intalnit si multi asiatici, foarte multi, impresionant de multi, enorm de multi, incomensurabil de multi…mai dati-mi voi niste epitete ca sunt in pana de idei. Luand-o intr-o ordine aleatorie, imi amintesc ca eram la scoala ( studiind engleza) si tot asa, am dialogat cu o fata din China (numele imi scapa, aspectul nu…cel intelectual) care, la subiectul “R” n-a fost prea la curent dar, avand in vedere “aspectul”, i-am dat nota de trecere pentru ca cel putin stia ca exista aceasta tara. La situarea geografica m-a&amp;nbsp; intrebat daca nu cumva Romania este o tara din Africa ?! si…mi-a fost greu sa neg din prima, dar pana la urma i-am zis: “Nu, nu suntem din Africa…” cel putin nu ca plasare geografica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Intalnirile mele inter-etnice nu s-au oprit aici si au continuat cu un indian (lu’ asta i-a placut relieful Romaniei), un arab ( stia ca suntem latini), un german ( asta auzise de Shtoia Bucharest), un australian ( asta era prea cult pentru mine…ma luase cu George Enescu), un alt australian ( tipul era intrigat daca a existat sau&amp;nbsp;nu Dracula in Transilvania; nu mi-a parut simpatic si i-am zis DA..a fost, si inca cum) si, cum era de asteptat multi chinezi ( printre cunostiintele lor&amp;nbsp;despre “R” s-au numarat “Haghi”, adica Hagi, Nadia Comaneci sau pretinu’ Dracula).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Ultimul pe lista noilor cunostinte a fost un coreean cam la 35-40 de ani pe nume &amp;nbsp;Lee Sun Park. Asa la prima vedere puteam sa pariez ca habar nu are ca exista Romania pe harta, dar ulterior aveam sa ma insel amarnic. Imi amintesc ca la auzul numelui de “Romania” fata lui pur si simplu s-a luminat. Pe moment crezusem ca “Romania” o fi insemnand ceva in limba lui, de genul “te iubesc” sau stiu si si eu, un alint…Ma gandeam sa fug naibii de langa el ca cine stie ce intentii “prietenesti” are in gand. Pana la urma am riscat si am zis sa continui discutia sa vad incotro…Si nu, nu era de cealalta parte a “baricadei”, ci pur si simplu stia foarte multe despre Romania, mai ales despre nea Nicu despre care avea numai cuvinte de lauda (oare de ce nu ma mir?). Dupa un timp chiar m-am plictisit si, mai mult sau mai putin direct, i-am zis ca nu “gustam” comunismul la acea vreme ( gustam altceva, la sanul mamei)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Asadar, asta este Romania in ochii strainilor. &lt;b&gt;Buna sau rea ea e tara noastra si ne mandrim cu ea&lt;/b&gt;. ( injuraturile voastre la aceasta afirmatie sunt bine-venite pe blog de fata sau pe adresa personala, oferita bineinteles la cerere). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Acestea fiind spuse, va las cu proprietarul de drept al acestui superb blog „Just Cata”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Cata, ai legatura!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-729717470024795938?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/729717470024795938/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/05/el-la-mine-dar-ei-la-noi.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/729717470024795938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/729717470024795938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/05/el-la-mine-dar-ei-la-noi.html' title='El la mine ... dar Ei la noi?'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5747389050442019055</id><published>2011-04-29T00:49:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T00:55:47.160+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Iubeste-ma, iubito!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;DUKE ELLINGTON / JOHN COLTRANE - In A Sentimental Mood&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/viomor/c04d7be5a3a1f8.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=viomor&amp;hash=c04d7be5a3a1f8&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/viomor/c04d7be5a3a1f8.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=viomor&amp;hash=c04d7be5a3a1f8&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incerc sa-ti scriu ceva iubito, dar frazele-mi sunt goale cand mana atinge foaia. Ma uit la pielea ta catifelata si ma intreb cui i-ai gresit de te-ai ales cu mine. Atat de fina si firava, un pui pierdut de cuib si mama, te-ai strans la pieptul meu fara de teama si m-ai lasat sa te iubesc. Căci te iubesc! Sperante am o mie-n viata asta, dar a mai mare dintre toate esti tu. Oh, de-ai stii cat de usor imi e sa te visez cu ani cernuti pe umerii tai goi, cu aceeasi privire jucausa, la sanu-ti plin tinand al nostr' copil. Iubito, esti frumoasa! Si asa ai sa fii si atunci.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-aduc aminte ziua cand te-am zarit in departari. De-atunci stiam ca esti a mea. Si tot de-atunci radeai din toata inima. Si sa te-auda lumea. Nu te-ai schimbat deloc! Si cati mai pot spune asta despre iubirile ce sunt? Mi-ai spus ca eu eram cel mai de ras, dar nu-mi pasa. Daca asta insemna sa stralucesti ca un soare, atunci as fi stat si-n cap sa iti fur albul dintilor si sunetul cristalin atat de clar.&lt;br /&gt;Iar ma privesti zambind. Stiu, nu-ti place seriozitatea intiparita-mi pe chip. Cearta-ma, doar pentru a ma impaca; trage-ma spre pat si invata-ma sa te rasfat asa cum vrei tu. Iubeste-ma, iubito, căci eu te iubesc oricum!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5747389050442019055?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5747389050442019055/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/iubeste-ma-iubito.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5747389050442019055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5747389050442019055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/iubeste-ma-iubito.html' title='Iubeste-ma, iubito!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7931136731533230858</id><published>2011-04-21T09:00:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T09:01:08.979+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Epilog...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Jazz - windmills of your mind&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/badboyrap/bcecf7878a8891.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=badboyrap&amp;hash=bcecf7878a8891&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/badboyrap/bcecf7878a8891.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=badboyrap&amp;hash=bcecf7878a8891&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu. Nu este o alta zi in care m-am trezit brutal la o ora mult prea matinala. Daca la un moment dat am dat vina pe altii, de vreo cateva zile e numai vina mea. Probabil ca ceasul biologic incearca sa imi spuna ceva si eu fac pe proasta. Astazi nici macar nu&amp;nbsp; mai pot spune ca m-am trezit la 8, ci la 7:45 cu un "Nu iaaar!" intiparit pe buze.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si mi-am adus aminte de povestea pe care voiam sa o scriu in urma cu ceva timp. E cam asa :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Barbatii imaginari din viata mea imi ocupa tot timpul" se auzi spunand cu voce tare in timp ce se opri in mijlocul trotuarului. Era atat de bulversata de faptul ca abia acum are curajul sa scoata acea fraza ce o bantuia de cateva saptamani, incat nu mai baga de seama putinele persoane ce treceau pe langa ea si se uitau ciudat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Ma intrebam de ce nu reusesc sa ma implic intr-o relatie? Pai daca sunt prea ocupata sa visez la ceea ce ar fi putut fi cu cei ț-șpe tipi cu care am fost. Si macar de as fi fost cu toti. Rahat! Daca imi place vreun pic de laptar, nu ma uit lasciv la el, ci imi ocup toata ziua imaginandu-mi cum ar fi viata mea cu el. Si daca nu e laptarul, ma gandesc la Razvan. Si daca nu e Razvan, ma gandesc la vecinul de la 2 cu care nu am vorbit niciodata si care trece pe langa mine de parca as fi mobila scarii, nu o persoana." Isi puse mainile in cap si ofta greu. Voia ca prin acest oftat sa isi scoata toate gandurile infecte din cap. Stia ca este greu, dar necesar.A pus in balanta toate reusitele ei si din pacate, balanta s-a inclinat catre viata personala pe care o pusese in stand-by. Era mult mai usor sa viseze, dar sa isi vada in continuare de cariera. Asa nu suferea, iar competentele ei nu aveau de suferit. Nu perioada de indragosteala, nu ras tamp, nu nimic.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Si ce dor imi e de rasul tamp! Si de durerile de stomac atat de placute. Si de strangerile de mana. Am nevoie de o banca! URGENT!" isi spuse hotarat. Isi indrepta spatele arcuit de greutatea gandurilor si porni apasat spre parc.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Cum schimbi o gandire de o viata, dar proasta, cu alta sanatoasa, dar noua?" isi spuse in timp ce se aseza pe banca. Alesese partea cu lacul, deoarece asa nu se mai intreba nimeni de ce se uita in gol, sperand ca totodata nu se va apropia nimeni ca sa o auda cum scapa 2-3 vorbe. "Alt defect! Cine naibii mai vorbeste cu sine? Stai ca nu m-am exprimat corect! Cine naibii mai vorbeste cu sine, cu voce tare, in public??? si o mai si recunoaste?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Si totusi? Cum sa schimbi o gandire de o viata? Inca de mica imi imaginam cum ar fi fost viata daca as fi fost bogata. Niciodata nu m-am plans ca nu am dulciuri, niciodata nu m-am plans ca nu am papusi indeajuns de frumoase. Si asta de ce? Pentru ca in mintea mea mancam intotdeauna cele mai de seama bunatati, iar papusile mele erau Barbie, eventual aveam si un Ken si un palat pentru ele. Copilaria mea a fost atat de frumoasa, incat la liceu, in loc sa imi vad de relatii cu baieti reali, m-am sarutat de o mie de ori cu dragostea mea ascunsa, baiatul cel mai curtat din clasa. Si cand am realizat ca nu va fi niciodata al meu, abia atunci m-am hotarat sa ma sarut cu un necunoscut. Doar sa ii fac in ciuda mintii mele atat de inselate. Si ce urat a fost. Mai tarziu, cand toate fetele sufereau dupa primele lor iubiri, eu inca traiam fericita cu gandurile mele, ce ma aparau de toate neplacerile. Nu pot spune ca nu am trait viata. Ca am trait-o. Insa nu am trait dragostea."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Se uita la cat de linistit e lacul. "Daca as fi putut sa ma nasc lac, ar fi fost totul atat de usor. M-as fi indragostit in fiecare primavara de copacii de langa drum si de florile atat de frumoase. As fi iubit pasarile ce se aseaza atat de lin pe apa si se joaca intotdeauna nevinovat. Dar nu sunt lac. Nici peste, nici pasare. Sunt un eu. Si cat de greu e sa fii eu. Cum schimbi o gandire de o viata?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7931136731533230858?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7931136731533230858/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/epilog.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7931136731533230858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7931136731533230858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/epilog.html' title='Epilog...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-9163148512739359359</id><published>2011-04-17T23:25:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T23:25:36.039+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ei'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>What is your favorite memory?</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;within temptation--memories&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/aadriana/a30bdf8a12d244.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=aadriana&amp;hash=a30bdf8a12d244&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/aadriana/a30bdf8a12d244.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=aadriana&amp;hash=a30bdf8a12d244&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dear readers,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I want to start writing in English so .. everybody could read what i write. Even some foreign friends or relatives. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In the first place, I would like for you to excuse my mistakes (because I'm sure there will be a lot of them) and if it's not too much to ask : please help me correct them (the mistakes I mean). I sure hope that with the help of some of my friends and readers I can improve my English to the point where it will be understood by all of you.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Well, a couple of days Iris (it's her birthday today so I will use this post to wish her all the good in the world! My brother too!) gave me a task to accomplish and that task was : what is your favorite memory?, and I intend to solve that task through my blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Here it is :&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My favorite memory shouldn't be that hard to pick. Or at least that was the first thought that came through my mind when I heard about the task. But as time passed I realized that it's not the easiest thing to choose. I have a lot of memories, some are nice, some aren't so nice, but all of them made me who I am. So, I won't tell you my favorite memory. I'll tell you one of the many favorite I gathered.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was my second year at the University from Brasov and the first year in the other student's campus. Colina. It was much closer to the University's teaching buildings but it was very far from the places where the friends I've made as a freshman lived. I thought that it had to be a way to move back to my former room. But it wasn't. So one morning i realized that I was stuck there. So I took my book and my cigars (i was smoking back then) and went on the hallway to read. I would have preferred my bed, but it was a non-smoking room so.. that was my only choice. I sat on the cold floor, lighted my cigar and started reading, when all over the sudden the door in front of me cracked open. From there, a girl with red hair and the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen stepped out. She looked at me for a slight moment, put a cushion on the floor and next to it a big cup (It was rather a very deep soup plate, but she calls it cup!!). She went back into the room, only to return with a book in her hands. I couldn't believe my eyes. I wasn't the only nut that at 8:30 a.m. read a book instead of sleeping like the rest of the students!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Inside I was all sunshine and happiness but i surely could not let the emotions get out, because i would only make her think that I am a freak! So i continued reading, even if with one eye I was still contemplating her. Until I realized I knew her from somewhere. DAMN!! She was one of those mean evil girls that usually spent all day long on the hallway!!! Yes! She was one of them for sure! A couple of days ago i came from school and there they were! Like this block's furniture! The furniture that you can't get rid off because it belongs to the owner. Well, as they sat there, with their legs all over the floor, not only they spooked&amp;nbsp; very loud, as though each and every one of them had a hearing's aid, they smoked like their home country is Turkey!! Like they had to produce enough smoke as to hide the walls from their behinds. And that's not all!! When i got near them, not even one of them had the courtesy to lift their feet. I had to jump like a rabbit. And even so one of them looked as me as I was the bad guy in that story!! RUDE!! I hate them!!! I HATE..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Excuse me... Can i bother you with a question?" i heard her say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I raise my head from the book and look at her. I can't see the evil i thought i saw a couple of days ago.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"What?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"I was curious about the book you are reading... What is it's name?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Aaaa... the book I'm reading? It's called Ivanhoe and i just started reading it. It's about a knight that helps people with his bravery. I love the action and this book has plenty!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Really? I like most the books that have an interesting plot. Something with ..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And that was our first conversation. We talked about the books we read and we loved, the books that we wanted to read, the movies that we liked... and the hours just passed by us. We meet again the next morning. And the morning after that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now... after more than 5 years, even if I don't see her every morning, I still like to talk with her about books and movies. Life and weather. Love and friendship. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;That's it Iris. U can correct this whenever you want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dear readers, once again EXCUSE MY AWFUL WRITING!! IT WILL GET BETTER WITH EXERCISE! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-9163148512739359359?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/9163148512739359359/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-is-your-favorite-memory.html#comment-form' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/9163148512739359359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/9163148512739359359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-is-your-favorite-memory.html' title='What is your favorite memory?'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7790488035143562471</id><published>2011-04-10T22:39:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T22:39:30.089+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teatru'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>La teatru...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tocmai ce m-am intors de la teatru. Teatru "Sica Alexandrescu" din Brasov! Si sunt foarte entuziasmata de piesa pe care tocmai am vizionat-o si de publicul foarte incantator in care am avut onoarea sa ma aflu.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Prima surpriza pe care am avut-o, in autobuzul cu care ma indreptam spre teatru am aflat ca este foarte multa lume care cumpara bilete si exista posibilitatea sa nu mai gasim locuri. Nu stiam ca teatrul este atat de apreciat in acest oras. Am mai fost la opere de teatru si ce-i drept nu s-a intamplat sa fie sala goala, insa erau premiere si era normal sa fie lumea interesata. Insa asa? La o piesa ce a mai rulat? Bravo brasoveni!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O alta surpriza a fost sa ma strecor printre persoanele ce se aflau in holul teatrului si asteptau cuminti deschidere portilor. Nu tu oameni care sa vorbeasca tare, nu tu pitzi care sa isi verifice tinuta in geamul tablourilor, nu tu mutre morocanoase. O multime foarte linistita, care isi discuta asteptarile vizavi de piesa sau poate locurile bune pe care le-au primit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cea mai mare surpriza am avut-o in timp ce asteptam sa inceapa piesa "Un cuplu ciudat". Ma uitam la decorul amenajat pe scena si ma intrebam oare cum va fi piesa, cand m-a rugat cineva sa imi dau picioarele pentru a putea trece. M-am ridicat de pe scaun si am inceput sa ma uit in jur. Numai tineri. In grupuri, cupluri sau singuri. Tineri! De varsta mea, mai mici, la facultate, la liceu. Exista tineri care aleg teatrul in locul unui bar sau ale unei convorbiri in fata blocului. Pentru prima data, m-am uitat zambind la tinerii de langa mine. Este o imagine frumoasa, credeti-ma, ca in "Liceeni" cand asteapta elevii cuminti venirea profesorului sau a formatiei care va face spectacol. Ca intr-un film de calitate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Acum sa vorbesc un pic si despre piesa. "Un cuplu ciudat" este o piesa foarte activa, in care publicul simte prezenta realitatii. Glumele sunt bune si nu de putine ori ne-am simtit cu totii obligati sa aplaudam prestatia buna a actorilor ce au fost foarte carismatici si inca de la inceput au trait intens rolul.&amp;nbsp; Personajele principale sunt doua femei care ajung sa locuiasca impreuna din cauza barbatilor, una fiind divortata de 2 ani, cealalta fiind recent parasita, iar pe langa ele sunt prietenele lor care pipereaza putin situatia.Va sfatuiesc cu cea mai mare caldura sa va duceti la piesa, deoarece veti rade din suflet (garantat) si nu va veti mai satura de personaje.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Replica pe care am retinut-o si care mi-a placut cel mai mult a fost&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Adica imi lasi impresia ca vrei sa plec" spune Flo in timp ce Olive ii face bagajul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Olive isi pune mainile in cap si ii raspunde scrasnind din dinti "Nu Florence, nu iti las impresia! Iti spun clar : VREAU SA PLECI" (am ras ca apucata!!!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7790488035143562471?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7790488035143562471/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/la-teatru.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7790488035143562471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7790488035143562471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/la-teatru.html' title='La teatru...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5872945760478255804</id><published>2011-04-07T15:51:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T15:51:31.629+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><title type='text'>Bloggerii au talent!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-86P4yeq4EO8/TZ2yVqePCKI/AAAAAAAAAwo/UKniV8juG4I/s1600/Romanii+bloggerii+au+talent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-86P4yeq4EO8/TZ2yVqePCKI/AAAAAAAAAwo/UKniV8juG4I/s1600/Romanii+bloggerii+au+talent.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;Britain`s  got talent, America`s got talent, India`s got talent, Romanii au  talent, asa ca de ce nu ar avea si bloggerii? Talent!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Imi verific eu linistita mailul si incantata observ ca cineva a comentat pe blog. Sperand ca voi putea incepe o conversatie online (ce dor imi e sa discut!!!) apas rapid pe link si ma aduce la comentariul lui &lt;a href="http://gigelitatea.blogspot.com/" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Gigi&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(nu e chiar Gigi, dar daca click-uiti numele va duce la blogul lui :P) ce ma indeamna sa vorbesc despre talentele mele. Saracul, nu stie ca a deschis cutia Pandorei! :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Asta gandeam cand am inceput sa scriu postarea. Si de atunci e aproape o saptamana.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Habar n-am ce talente am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; Tot ce imi vine in minte este faptul ca stiu sa vorbesc. Si sa scriu. Ma rog, cel mai corect spus este : stiu sa povestesc. Nu sunt cea mai stralucita de pe planeta (desi simt ca nu o sa plec de pe aceasta lumea fara sa fac ceva memorabil), insa incerc sa ma indrept spre piedestalul naratorilor trecuti de mediocritate. Cu pasi extrem de mici, ce-i drept. Intotdeauna cand patesc ceva, incep sa mi se aseze in cap cuvintele potrivite pentru a obtine o poveste interesanta. De multe ori, cand merg pe strada patesc sa vad imagini pe care mi-ar placea sa le povestesc. Poate chiar imagini pe care le-am vazut in filme. De exemplu, mergeam la Tg Jiu, si pe drum am avut un flash cu un accident. Si apoi am inceput sa gasesc cuvintele potrivite pentru a face o postare. Insa m-am gandit ca e prea trist.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Deci asta e talentul meu. Sa vorbesc. Si sa scriu. Sa povestesc. Desi daca as intreba baietii cu care am avut date-uri s-ar uita ciudat la mine si mi-ar spune ca talentul meu este acela de a nu tacea din gura. Ce-i drept, cand incep sa trancan (in special cand am emotii) nu ma mai opreste decat un dezastru natural! Dar hai sa fiu serioasa, ca de multe ori, nimeni nu ma opreste. Si asta pentru ca de multe ori, chiar spun lucruri interesante. :))) Modesta de mine!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;AAA.. si sa mai zicem ca stiu sa desenez si sa cant. Dar astea se activeaza doar cand sunt in preajma unor persoane pe care vreau sa le impresionez. Adica, atunci cand sunt indragostita, cant si desenez super fain. Si cand ma refer la indragosteala, nu inseamna ca este implicat in mod special un baiat. Pentru ca ma indragostesc de vreme, de o rochie, de un local. Etc. Intelegi voi ideea :P &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Alte talente? Hmmm.. Nu cred ca ma desconsider chiar asa mult. Si nu e chiar desconsiderat, ci doar ca nu stiu care e talent si care e stiinta :)))!! Si cu asta cred ca m-am scos!!! Daca m-ai gasiti voi ceva... Eu sunt dispusa sa mai adaug talente in caiet!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5872945760478255804?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5872945760478255804/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/bloggerii-au-talent.html#comment-form' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5872945760478255804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5872945760478255804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/bloggerii-au-talent.html' title='Bloggerii au talent!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-86P4yeq4EO8/TZ2yVqePCKI/AAAAAAAAAwo/UKniV8juG4I/s72-c/Romanii+bloggerii+au+talent.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7428673577262550631</id><published>2011-04-02T10:41:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-02T10:41:40.836+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='studenti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='master'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oras'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brasov'/><title type='text'>De'ale lumii ... in care traiesc</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Vama Veche - Brasov "Is My Country"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/myzzumyhaytzu/7d58dbd42fd99e.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=myzzumyhaytzu&amp;hash=7d58dbd42fd99e&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/myzzumyhaytzu/7d58dbd42fd99e.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=myzzumyhaytzu&amp;hash=7d58dbd42fd99e&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma urc in autobuz si ma asez pe la mijlocul lui, scaunul de la geam. Intotdeauna incerc sa stau acolo. E locul din care poti vedea si ce se intampla afara si ce oameni se mai urca.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;De la geam observ un grup de muncitori ce stau si se uita la un altul care manuieste o masinarie si sparge asfaltul. Vorbesc destul de tare si rad cu pofta. Nu e prima oara cand vad aceasta imagine. Cand mergeam spre facultate, niste muncitori erau langa un drum ce trebuia peticit (pentru ca nu pot spune reparat, restaurat sau cine stie ce alt sinonim cu a duce la bun sfarsit o treaba!!), si cand spun ca erau acolo, inseamna ca unul muncea si restul stateau pe trotuar si vorbeau. Cum sa nu iti placa munca asta? Sau poate sunt eu absurda si ei de fapt muncesc cu totii, dar pe rand! Asta care munceste a tras betisorul scurt, azi!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Masina porneste in tromba si o babuta mai ca sare de pe scaun. Probabil soferul este prea prins de ritmurile manelelor ce se aud dinspre radio si uita ca se afla intr-un mijloc de transport in comun, poate se vede in autovehiculul de acasa si incearca sa impresioneze vreo piti de pe marginea soselei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nimic nou pe portiunea asta a orasului. Priveliste dezolanta a marginii orasului, unde nu prea vezi lume mergand pe jos pentru ca probabil s-ar deprima sa paseasca pe langa fabrica parasita si blocurile mult prea gri. Desigur, va arata mai ok cand se vor inverzi putinii pomi de pe marginea drumului, dar mai e ceva pana atunci.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;La capat de linie (mda, iau autobuzul inainte de un capat de linie pentru a nu parcurge o distanta rezonabila pentru a-l lua de la statia care ma duce direct acasa !?!?!?!) se suie oamenii grabiti, desi soferul s-a dat jos din autobuz si e evident faptul ca mai dureaza ceva pana plecam. Dar poate e prea soare afara. Sau poate vor sa prinda un loc. 10 oameni in autobuz de tz-spe locuri. Clar d'asta se grabesc. Ca o paranteza, vocea mea interioara ar vrea sa spuna ca de multe ori si eu ma urc la fel de grabita, doar pentru a ma sti in autobuz. Dar hai sa ne prefacem ca nu o auzim!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Plecam din statie si trecem prin portiunea mea preferata a orasului. Imi place cum au amenajat aici, si imi place foarte mult Calea Bucuresti. Ma simt ca intr-un oras.din afara. In special acum cand incep sa puna pamant proaspat, flori, pomisori etc. Separatorul ros-alb este atat de curat si trotuarele sunt luminate (am cautat alt cuvant care sa exprime faptul ca sunt atat de deschise la culoare si albe si curate si imi plac!, dar nu am gasit, asa ca ramanem cu luminate!) si pline de lume. Magazinele sunt la toate palierele blocurilor si reclame mari sunt agatate de blocurile turn. O incantare pentru ochi. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In autobuz incepe sa se ingramadeasca atmosfera, insa din fericire, nu sunt deranjata deloc de acest fapt. Am locul meu. Ce diferiti suntem cu totii. Aici este cel mai bun loc de observatie si de analiza a acestui fapt. Niste copii au ocupat locurile de langa mine si au dat drumul la muzica. Ii aud cum isi spun unul altuia "Nu melodia asta ma, ca injura aia!" "Si ce p**a mea?" "Da'te dr**u ca suntem in autobuz, esti prost?" "Bine ba, o schimb!" si ma intreb daca asta inseamna cei 7 ani de acasa. Sa nu lasi o melodie cu injuraturi intr-un loc public. Sau sa te asezi nonsalant cand in fata o mamaie abia se mai poate tine de bara aia. Noroc ca sunt multi oameni in jurul ei, si se poate rezema de ei de fiecare data cand soferul ia vreo curba mai lunga. Am vrut sa ma ridic sa ii ofer locul, insa cineva din spate m-a batut pe umar si mi-a spus sa stau linistita ca va sta pe locul lui.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ajungem in centrul orasului. Se vede ca pe aici sunt corpurile facultatii, deoarece acum sunt multi tineri care urca scarile. Se vede si ca sunt studenti, dupa privirile iscoditoare menite sa gaseasca eventualii controlori. Nu spun ca toti merg fara bilet, spun doar ca marea majoritate, cand vine vorba de mers 2-3 statii, nu mai cumpara un bilet. Plus ca sunt in grup si vorbesc de cine stie ce materii sau profi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ajung si in campus. Cobor linistita si imi pregatec nasul pentru Shitty Way. Daca ati sti de cand imi doresc sa va povestesc despre Shitty Way!!! Dar nu am stiut cum sa o introduc in postari. Nu ar fi avut farmec in nici una. Si parca nici nu imi venea sa scriu o postare doar despre asta! In orice caz, acum este momentul!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Shitty Way este straduta ce face legatura intre strada principala si campus. Majoritatea oamenilor care au caini, ii plimba inevitabil si pe aici. Ideea este ca, acesti caini (desi eu tind sa cred ca sunt si multi oameni&amp;nbsp; ca prea mari sunt... dar sa nu sar) se rahatesc pe spatiul verde de langa trotuar. Si cand vii spre sau pleci de la camin, treci pe aceasta straduta unde pute a rahat si mai si vezi carnaciori MARI maronii ce acopera locurile unde ar trebui sa fie iarba. Ok, este ingrasamant natural, sa vezi ce iarba verde si consistenta o sa creasca acolo, dar pana atunci ... Shitty Way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si in sfarsit ajung la destinatie. Caminul studentesc in care locuiesc, ce fata de celelalte camine vopsite si&amp;nbsp; restaurate, pare un camin parasit de ceva ani. Ba nu, mint, se vede ca e locuit, pentru ca desi arata odios din exterior, si zici ca iti cade in cap, are termopane. Ha? Ce ziceti de asta!!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Interiorul este frumos, dar cred ca o sa va povestesc de asta cu alta ocazie ca iar scriu romane si imi sar in cap oamenii ca postarile trebuie sa fie scurte si la obiect, iar eu le lungeeeeesc... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7428673577262550631?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7428673577262550631/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/deale-lumii-in-care-traiesc.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7428673577262550631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7428673577262550631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/deale-lumii-in-care-traiesc.html' title='De&apos;ale lumii ... in care traiesc'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1736483340588579446</id><published>2011-04-01T20:43:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T20:43:04.225+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scoala'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='master'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><title type='text'>Gandurile unui student pierdut...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;robbie williams - Let ME ENTERTAIN YOU&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/morsa2003/6c913e1a8848a5.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=morsa2003&amp;hash=6c913e1a8848a5&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/morsa2003/6c913e1a8848a5.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=morsa2003&amp;hash=6c913e1a8848a5&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Am o mana in barbie si ma uit plictisita la raza de soare ce pare ca desparte sala in doua. Obscuritatea in care se afla studentii si raza de lumina (aka cunoasterea) in care se scalda proful. Dumnezeule, ce ganduri filozofice am la ora asta. Vad buzele profului cum se misca, insa urechile mele parca au un scut de protectie si nu lasa sa patrunda nici macar un sunet. Ciudat, aud cum bazaie musca in celalalt colt al incaperii, aud cum rad afara niste baieti, insa cand vine vorba de a auzi ceea ce spune efectiv proful... Parca as suferi de imunitate auditiva. Mai bine ma intorc la raza de soare. Imi aduc aminte de raza de soare ce m-a umplut de inspiratie la examenul de psihologie. Ma intorc in timp cu vreo 6 ani si ma vad intrand cu un coleg in C-uri.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Era 12 noaptea si ne rugam de portar sa ne lase sa intram pana la avizier deoarece aveam examen la psihologie si nu stiam exact unde si la ce ora este. Desi in prima faza nu am vrut sa ma prezint la examen, in ultima clipa m-am hotarat ca nu merita sa fi irosit multe ore de laborator. Am aflat ca examenul era a doua zi la ora 8 dimineata. Nici o problema. E abia 12 noaptea.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Mai Cata, la baza colinei este o sala de internet. Nu vrei&amp;nbsp; sa intram acolo si sa stam pana dimineata?" imi spune el poftind probabil sa se bage la un CS cu baietii de pe acolo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Avand in vedere ca aveam prea multa energie pentru a reusi sa adorm m-am hotarat ca nu pierd nimic daca stau si eu putin pe net.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;La 4 dimineata ne-a cam  pierit cheful de stat prin fata calculatoarelor si am hotarat ca mergem  sa dormim. Zis si facut. Dorm 3 ore, ma trezesc, ma duc la examen, ma intorc si dorm iar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Dar ma trezesti dimineata! Da?" ii spun in  dreptul caminului lui Marius, stiind ca singura nu ma voi trezi in veci.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Cum sa nu!! Clar te trezesc! La 7 zici? OK! Bazeaza-te pe mine" imi spune el sigur pe el.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne  pupam si ma duc linistita sa dorm. Dimineata, simt pe cineva care ma  zgaltaie si aud ca prin vis "Catal... exam... 8 ... nu?" Deschid un ochi  si o vad pe Ana care se uita fix la mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Ce vrei?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Nu ai examen azi?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Ba da, dar ma trezeste Marius la 7!" ii raspund nervoasa si ii intorc fundul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Cata... e 8 fara un sfert! Nu a venit nici un Marius!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Imi   ia cateva secunde sa inteleg si sa procesez informatia, iar dupa ce  leg  faptul ca e 8 fara un sfert cu faptul ca la 8 am examen sar din pat  si  de parca as fi un desen animat incep sa ma pieptan pe dinti si sa  ma  perii pe par in timp ce incerc sa imi trag blugii pe mine. Ana imi  pune  rapid o felie de paine cu unt si aproape ca mi-o arunca in timp ce  ies  pe usa. Cu o mana incerc sa tin felia de paine, pe umar am  ghiozdanul,  iar pe brat incerc sa imi pun geaca.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cu   chiu cu vai, dupa ce imi pierd felia de paine cu unt   pe bancheta din spate (adica mi-a cazut si sincer, chiar daca mi se   lipea burta de spate m-am hotarat ca mai bine nu ma risc!), alerg de la taxi pana la corpul C,ajung si la  examen. Desigur ca sunt ultima care intra in sala si toti studentii se  uita  spre mine in timp ce usa scartaie ca intr-un film de groaza. Profa   asteapta cu spranceana ridicata sa ma asez intr-un loc si apoi ni se   adreseaza pe un ton sobru, uitandu-se fix la mine&amp;nbsp; "Acum ca s-au hotarat   toti studentii sa faca liniste, sa incepem examinarea. Presupun ca   toti v-ati primit cursurile si cartea din care trebuia sa invatati,   deoarece subiectele sunt de acolo."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Supeer.   Nici macar nu stiam ca exista vreo carte din care trebuia sa invatam,   apai sa o mai si vad. Astept subiectele cumintica, incercand sa nu   respir prea tare pentru a evita o mai mare atentie din parte celorlalti.   Mi se pune in fata o foaie cu 9 subiecte, unul si unul mai interesant.   Ce este inteligenta? Care este diferenta dintre temperament si  caracter?  Care sunt intrebarile pe care ar trebui sa fie puse unui elev  care  incepe sa aiba note mici la scoala? Si alte asemenea subiecte.  Incerc  din rasputeri sa imi pastrez mimica de student nepasator, dar  presupun  ca profa deja este constienta de cat de departe sunt de  raspunsurile  necesare.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cu  foaia in fata si cu  pixul in mana, tot ce imi vine in minte este un  pat mare si imaginea mea  tolanindu-ma in asternuturile curate ce miros a  levantica. Groaznic!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Trece   jumatate de ora si eu inca ma uit tamp la foaia de examen. Stiu. Nu  sunt intrebari grele, insa nu imi vine nici un raspuns demn de un   student cu mintea intreaga. Si deodata... Se lumineaza sala. O raza de   soare apare in fata mea si este atat de stralucitoare incat nu ma mai   pot concentra pe spatiul si timpul in care ma aflu. Ma uit zambind si mi   se pare incredibil de spectaculoasa imaginea pe care o creeaza. O raza   de soare si in rest obiecte simple, oameni simpli. Cat de murdar este   aerul si cat de clar se vad particulele de praf ce danseaza linistite.  Raman fixata pe raza de soare si ma pierd in ea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In   spate simt o miscare si ma trezesc la realitate. Realizez ca sunt in   sala si imi intorc iar privirea spre foaia de examen. Si in locul   spatiilor goale incep sa se umple randuri. "Inteligenta este capacitatea   omului de a intelege si a asimila informatiile pe care le primeste din   si prin mediul exterior" si alte asemenea definitii&amp;nbsp; isi fac loc&amp;nbsp; in   mintea mea si incep sa vizualizez toate articolele pe care le-am  citit  vizavi de acest subiect.&amp;nbsp; Poate nu erau corecte, poate nu erau  exacte,  insa cu siguranta erau scrise intr-o maniera demna de a fi  citite. Si  totul datorita unei raze de soare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Am luat 9.50. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Va plictisesc cumva?" aud ca dintr-un alt univers si realizez ca proful se uita fix la mine.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Shit, Shit, Shit!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Aaaaa.... nu" raspund incercand fara reusita sa zambesc si facand loc unei schimonoseli hidoase.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Adica ati inteles ce v-am explicat pana acum... nu?" ma intreaba el zambind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Aaaaaa... Daaaaaaaa" si ma inrosesc pana in varful urechilor. "Am inteles tot!"&lt;/div&gt;"Atunci sa continuam..." si se intoarce cu spatele la mine...&lt;br /&gt;Rasuflu  usurata ca am scapat, imi pun mana in barbie si ma uit la raza de soare  ce desparte sala in doua. Obscuritatea in care se afla studentii si  raza de lumina (aka cunoasterea) in care se scalda proful ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1736483340588579446?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1736483340588579446/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/gandurile-unui-student-pierdut.html#comment-form' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1736483340588579446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1736483340588579446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/04/gandurile-unui-student-pierdut.html' title='Gandurile unui student pierdut...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-978897781432579926</id><published>2011-03-29T10:00:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T10:00:04.435+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='master'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rahat'/><title type='text'>Bine ati venit la master! (4)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ziua mea nu se putea sa fie mai buna. Dimineata "Pretiosul" mi-a aratat fundul. Nu, nu gaura neagra, iertati-ma! Vedeam wallpaperu' si cam atat. Practic Pretiosul se limita in a-mi arata degetul mijlociu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; La secretariat nu am reusit sa rezolv nimic si acum, ieseam din sala de calculatoare a Universitatii cand am realizat ca nu mai am esarfa. Esarfa de la Honey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Poate am lasat-o la secretariat, imi spun incercand sa imi pastrez barbia ridicata si sa nu dau drumul potopului de lacrimi ce promitea sa imi navaleasca pe fata. Deschid usa plina de speranta, ma apropii de birouri si cand ma vede secretara imi spune in acelasi timp in care o intreb eu de esarfa "D-l Decan e in birou daca vrei sa... Ce spui?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Mi-ati vazut cumva esarfa? Maro? Poate am lasat-o pe scaun? Decanul e in birou?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Nu. Nu am vazut nici o esarfa" si ca raspuns la intrebarea despre decan imi face semn catre usa biroului.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Trag aer in piept, de parca m-as arunca in gura unui lup si bat in usa deschisa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Pot sa intru?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Da." imi raspunde pe un ton ce se vrea a fi binevoitor insa ii iese mai degraba foarte intepat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ultima oara cand am dat cu ochii de decan am avut o certa destul de urata, deoarece nu imi daduse nici un loc in camin. Dupa zambetul fortat de pe fata ma gandesc ca nu a uitat acel "mic" conflict.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Presupun ca stiti de ce..." incep sa ii spun afisand la randu-mi un zambet fals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Da! Am citit cererea pe care ai lasat-o si nu te pot ajuta cu nimic! Stiu situatia ta, nu esti singura din grupa cu media asta." imi raspunde el pe un ton superior.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Pai da... dar intelegeti d-vostra ca..." incerc sa continui, fara nici un rezultat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Eu inteleg, insa chiar daca s-ar da o bursa, si nu se va da deoarece nu sunt fonduri, dar totusi chiar daca s-ar da o bursa, probabil nu o sa o luati d-voastra, pentru ca urmatoarea departajare intre d-voastra si colega d-voastra se va face dupa media de intrare la master si daca mai tin bine minte..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu termina fraza, insa eu am terminat toata pledoaria. Am un nod in gat. Acest domn pare artagos si intr-un fel este de inteles, avand in vedere ca nu sunt singura studenta care i-a calcat pragul pentru aceasi problema. Ridic ochii catre el si ii spun foarte incet :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Dar intelegeti ca nu e drept? Nu?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Parca isi mai relaxeaza un pic muschii si pe fata lui apare o parere de rau.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Continui : "Stiu ca nu d-voastra dati banii, si nici doamna decan, si nici secretarele. Dar ma intelegeti si pe mine? Eu asteptam bursa asta si la un moment dat ma vad pe lista, doar pentru ca la cateva zile sa imi dispara numele. Intelegeti?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Da."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Si acum vin la d-voastra si imi spuneti ca nu pot face absolut nimic. Nici macar o plangere, un referat? Nimic prin care sa pot sa..." nu pot sa mai termin. Oftez si ii multumesc pentru timpul acordat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ies afara si ma grabesc spre iesire. Ajung la scarile care duc spre Memo si abia aici dau frau liber lacrimilor. O singura propozitie ma face sa plang mai abitir si creierul meu pare ca o spune din pura placere de a ma auzi bocind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Ai pierdut si esarfa!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;P.S : cateva ore mai tarziu, in ghiozdan am gasit esarfa. In acelasi timp am gasit si un pic de speranta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-978897781432579926?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/978897781432579926/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/bine-ati-venit-la-master-4.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/978897781432579926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/978897781432579926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/bine-ati-venit-la-master-4.html' title='Bine ati venit la master! (4)'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5652572135188868289</id><published>2011-03-27T08:00:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T08:00:06.009+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='master'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rahat'/><title type='text'>Bine ati venit la master! (3)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Imi puteti explica si mie ce s-a intamplat?" intreaba o fata care se afla la biroul secretarei.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"In  legatura cu ce domnisoara?" intreaba secretara pe un ton placut(mare  schimbare intre aceste secretare si cele de la IT unde de multe ori iti  era frica sa intri ca sa intrebi ceva, sa nu mai spun de cele de la  DREPT, unde iti vine sa mananci hartie decat sa le intrebi pe ele ceva).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Cu bursa! Cum se poate ca intr-o zi sa ma aflu pe listele cu burse si in alta zi sa nu mai apar nicaieri?"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"D-soara,  conform [...] s-au schimbat metodele de atribuire ale bursei deoarece  se pare ca existau si studenti cu restante ce luau bursa."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Fata si-a plecat capul si cu o mana la tampla probabil se intreba ce ar mai putea fi de facut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Cu ce va pot ajuta, domnisoara?" ma intreaba cea mai draguta secretara din toata Universitatea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Pai  si eu am aceasi problema..." ii spun aratand spre colega mai sus  mentionata. "Nu inteleg cum de se pot schimba listele atat de repede si  atat de radical."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Conform regulamentului [&lt;a href="http://www.unitbv.ro/LinkClick.aspx?fileticket=3mc9wdsltWk%3d&amp;amp;tabid=85" style="color: red;"&gt;anexa nr1 pg 6 pct1.6&lt;/a&gt;]  in loc de pct (a) s-a tinut cont de pct (b), deoarece au fost situatii in  care studentii restantieri erau apti de bursa. Si desigur, nu se putea  permite asa ceva"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Bine, bine. Dar  daca ne uitam mai jos, scrie foarte clar ca facultatea in cazul in care  nu poate face departajarea, este obligata sa dea concurs." ii spun eu  descurajata in timp ce ii arat pe regulamentul din fata punctul la care  ma refer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Nu se mai aplica punctul asta de ohooo. S-a votat prin senat ca departajarile se fac in functie de medii."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Si  d-voastra imi spuneti ca nu pot face absolut nimic?" o intreb simtind  ca toata frustrarea de care reusisem sa scap in weekend ma copleseste in  cele cateva minute de cand am ajuns aici.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dupa privire iti puteai da seama ca doamna secretara nu este la prima transa de studenti care au fost nedreptatiti.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Mai fetelor, tot ce va pot spune este ca puteti face o cerere pentru reevaluare"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Si credeti ca ajuta la ceva" intreaba deodata fata de langa mine plina de speranta.&lt;/div&gt;"Nu,  dar cine stie..." raspunde secretara cu capul in jos. "Scrieti asta si  reveniti mai tarziu sa vedeti daca se poate face ceva. Poate chiar sa  vorbiti cu d-l decan."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Va continua...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5652572135188868289?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5652572135188868289/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/bine-ati-venit-la-master-3.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5652572135188868289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5652572135188868289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/bine-ati-venit-la-master-3.html' title='Bine ati venit la master! (3)'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-317012080788750410</id><published>2011-03-25T12:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T12:26:20.807+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='master'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rahat'/><title type='text'>Bine ati venit la master! (2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Inca din hol puteam vedea avizierul si ma rugam in gand sa fie o eroare. Sa nu se fi uitat colegii mei atent sau sa imi fi gresit secretara numele. Orice, doar sa fie o eroare. M-am apropiat de avizier si dupa o singura privire am realizat ca nu este nici o greseala. Listele erau mai mici. Nu am mai vrut sa stau acolo si m-am grabit spre iesire.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dezamagita, dezgustata si extrem de deprimata, astea erau sentimentele care ma invaluiau in drumul spre casa. Toate planurile mele erau facute, ba nu, erau bazate pe bursa aceasta. Ca si cum ar fi fost o telenovela proasta, intr-o zi am avut-o, in alte trei mi-au luat-o. Si in astea 3 zile am avut placerea sa anunt pe toata lumea ca primul punct al planului meu major a fost indeplinit. Acum in schimb, am ramas cu un gust amar in gura si cu mana pe telefon, intrebandu-ma cum sa anunt pe toata lumea ca m-am inselat. Mergeam foarte incet si tarziu am realizat ca lacrimile mi se amestecau cu picaturile usoare de ploaie. M-am oprit la un moment dat si m-am rezemat de un stalp. Ce era de facut acum? Sa lupt? Sa ma duc sa ma cert? Pentru ce? Singurul lucru care imi venea in minte era ca trebuia sa invat mai mult. Puteam sa invat mai mult. Si atunci, de ce nu am facut-o?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A doua zi, m-am trezit cu o lipsa totala de viata. Nu imi venea sa ma mai ridic din pat. As fi vrut sa nu mai dau ochii cu nimeni. Ce usor ar fi fost. Dar cum nu suntem personaje din carti, nimic nu sta in loc. M-am ridicat, mi-am vazut de zi si m-am hotarat ca la inceputul saptamanii sa ma duc la secretariat sa vad unde a fost problema.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Va continua...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-317012080788750410?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/317012080788750410/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/bine-ati-venit-la-master-2.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/317012080788750410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/317012080788750410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/bine-ati-venit-la-master-2.html' title='Bine ati venit la master! (2)'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5304663430140341966</id><published>2011-03-21T14:44:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T12:29:47.175+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='master'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rahat'/><title type='text'>Bine ati venit la master!</title><content type='html'>Dragii mei dragi, astazi vreau sa va povestesc o cu totul noua fata a mea, si anume aceea de student silitor, si desigur, de rezultatele "satisfacatoare" ale muncii mele. Din pacate, in timpul facultatii, am facut parte din acea categorie de studenti ce au fost nevoiti sa imparta orele unei zile intre ore de scoala, ore de munca si ore de somn. De multe ori, timpul pe care ar fi trebuit sa il aloc invataturii l-am folosit intr-un mod "salbatic", incercand sa ma odihnesc si sa imi pastrez capul limpede pentru a efectua calcule sau pentru a nu adormi cu capul pe birou (sunt ipocrita daca nu aduc aminte si de orele din cluburi si de prin baruri, ca nu am fost toata o sfanta ocupandu-ma doar de munca si de scoala). In orice caz, dupa 6 ani de zile am reusit sa trec in randul absolventilor, destul de multumita ca am primit o strangere de mana dupa prezentarea licentei. Din pacate, media de pe diploma nu a fost la fel de imbucuratoare, dar hei, nu le poti avea pe toate.&lt;br /&gt;Dupa un an de stat acasa, am stiut ca vreau sa fac si un master, iar dupa lungi discutii in familie, am ajuns de comun acord la concluzia ca cel mai bine ar fi ca in aceasta perioada sa ma dedic invataturii si sa incerc sa recuperez notele pierdute din cauza slujbei. Zis si facut. Timp de un semestru, am fost prezenta la majoritatea orelor (in proportie de 90%, fapt ce este clar o imbunatatire fata de anii de facultate unde ajungeam la maxim 30%) am fost atenta la explicatiile profesorilor, m-am implicat total in realizarea proiectelor si m-am luptat pentru a obtine note maxime. Practic la sfarsitul sesiunii ma puteam lauda cu un singur 9, si un cumul total de 294 de puncte din 300 (colegii de la Transilvania stiu cat de mare este acest punctaj si cat de semnificativ ar trebui sa fie). Dupa regulamentul facultatii (pe care il gasiti &lt;a href="http://www.unitbv.ro/dpm/INFORMATIIUTILE.aspx"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;aici&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;) ar fi trebuit sa obtin cel putin bursa de merit, insa... Bine ati venit in Romania!&lt;br /&gt;Lunea trecuta se afiseaza listele de burse si surpriza, numele meu aparea in cadrul burselor de studiu. Un pic dezamagita (dar nu extrem de mult) m-am bucurat totusi de faptul ca voi obtine o incununare a eforturilor depuse in timpul anului, a lipsei de la intalnirile cu fetele pe care le-am refuzat deoarece a trebuit sa ma duc la scoala, a lipsei resurselor deoarece am stat sa invat in loc sa ma angajez ... ce sa mai, o rasplata a faptului ca m-am implicat. Mare greseala din partea mea sa ma entuziasmez.&lt;br /&gt;Joi, in cadrul aceleasi saptamani, vorbesc cu colegul meu pe mess. Nu eram in cea mai buna dispozitie, deoarece am esuat lamentabil in cadrul unui interviu, motiv pentru care ii raspundeam destul de artagos, cand mi-a scris foarte senin "aaa nu mai iei bursa!". Am simtit cum pica cerul pe mine. Daca nu as fi fost in cadrul unui curs, cred ca m-as fi napustit ca un animal spre iesire pentru a verifica listele, insa a trebuit sa astept pana la finalul orelor....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Va continua...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5304663430140341966?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5304663430140341966/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/bine-ati-venit-la-master.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5304663430140341966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5304663430140341966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/bine-ati-venit-la-master.html' title='Bine ati venit la master!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-174876094327454814</id><published>2011-03-19T19:51:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T19:51:09.955+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Lumea mea!</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="330" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/EuOuBtcG0Bw" title="YouTube video player" width="380"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lumea mea se formeaza in fiecare dimineata si se autodistruge de fiecare data cand inchid ochii seara. Lumea mea incepe cu o raza de soare, chiar daca afara abia mijesc zorii zilei, daca sunt nori peste tot sau daca geamul este acoperit de draperii mate si grele. Nimic nu este roz in ea, insa totul este asa cum este. Drumul spre toaleta este mult prea lung, patul este mult prea mare si gol, telefonul mult prea prieten. Cand imi fac curaj si ma dau jos din pat, ma bucur ca nu am oglinda, deoarece de fiecare data sunt altfel in ea. Astazi cred ca as umple-o ca o forma care se regaseste in alta forma.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In lumea mea inca mai exista persoane care isi zambesc si fac acest lucru pentru ca le pasa. In lumea voastra nu mai exista acest context. Pentru ca sunteti prea ocupati sa calcati pe faramitele unui nou inceput si sa distrugeti sperantele unor lumini. Flori uscate cu frunze lasate in apa mucegaita. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In lumea mea nu exista minciuni, ci doar oameni care uita ca intotdeauna le vine si lor randul; nu exista nedreptate ci doar oameni care uita sa mai fie oameni; nu exista ura ci doar oameni care nu stiu sa priveasca. Si voi, cei in a caror ochi ma uit atunci cand vorbesc, ar trebui sa invatati ca lumea mea nu este aceasi in fiecare zi, insa a mea lume va ramane pentru totdeauna a mea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cuvinte de neinteles pentru cei ce nu stiu sa citeasca cu adevarat si vorbe goale pentru cei ce si-au propus sa nu auda. In lumea mea pot disparea momente la fel de repede pe cat au aparut, insa cand un moment ramane inramat intr-un perete, atunci e pentru totdeauna. Din pacate, multe momente sunt roase de trecerea timpului, iar altele noi nu se mai lipesc la fel de repede. Sa inchinam paharul pentru lumea mea si pentru eternitate, pentru efemer si vise desarte, pentru voi si pentru sperantele voastre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-174876094327454814?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/174876094327454814/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/lumea-mea.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/174876094327454814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/174876094327454814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/lumea-mea.html' title='Lumea mea!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/EuOuBtcG0Bw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2998955545838905883</id><published>2011-03-12T20:58:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T00:26:16.286+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='saracie'/><title type='text'>Rugaciune 2...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Doamna de la cantina ma intreaba zambind "Cartofi cu rozmarin si mai ce?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Un gratar de pui, va rog frumos" ii raspund zambind la randu-mi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Oooo pai nu tineati post? Sau va confund?"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Aaaa saptamana asta am lasat-o mai moale cu carnea. Ma mai detoxific si eu din cand in cand" si incepem sa radem amandoua de parca as fi spus cine stie ce gluma buna.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ca intotdeauna, pun cartea sub tava si ma indrept spre masa de la geam. Ma bucur ca stau in acelasi loc de fiecare data cand mananc. E familiar. Ca acasa. Imi este greu sa citesc si sa mananc in acelasi timp, dar cand las cartea din mana si ma concentrez doar pe a taia si a mesteca realizez exact cat de mare este masa ... si cat de goala. Asa ca mai bine ma strofoc un pic. Nu am mai luat desert azi. Si chiar daca am terminat, mai stau pret de cateva pagini, deoarece nu vreau sa ma duc in camera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si totusi, nu pot ramane la nesfarsit in cantina. Ma indrept foarte incet spre camin, cand in cale imi iese un pustiulica murdar. Are o caciula la fel de murdara pe cap si o geaca de piele, peticita care il acopera aproape in intregime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Tanti! Da si mie un leu! Hai milogeste-te de mine! Da si mieee"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ridic spranceana gandindu-ma la &lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/rugaciune.html" style="color: red;"&gt;copii din gara&lt;/a&gt;. Nu serios, chiar asta e suma minima la cersit? 1 leu? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Nu am!" ii spun neavand absolut nici un chef de a fi marinimoasa.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Copilul se ia dupa mine si isi continua replica "Hai tanti te roog. Da si mie un leu. Nu fi rea!"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma intreb daca as avea vreun rezultat daca as sta si eu asa la cladirea fiecarei firme la care vreau sa ma angajez. Haideti va roog. Si sa stau sa ma iau de patroni. Da si mie o slujba. Teee rooog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Gandurile imi sunt intrerupte de tipatul unui copil. O chestie mai micuta decat pustiul de langa mine alearga cat poate de tare pentru a ne ajunge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FFGLVlffLBg/TX1Dxwg7xyI/AAAAAAAAAwM/RHR0EXad-TU/s1600/244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FFGLVlffLBg/TX1Dxwg7xyI/AAAAAAAAAwM/RHR0EXad-TU/s320/244.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Baaa. Nu cred ca putem lua bani de la tanti asa ca nu mai alerga!" urla copilul de langa mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Deodata vad chipul baietelului care alerga. O fata rotunda si murdara, inconjurata de carlionti blonzi, niste ochi albastri mari, care acum se uita la mine trist. Ofteaza, de parca ar fi fost un batran cu greutatea lumii pe umerii lui mici si se opreste din alergat, insa nu de tot. Acum poate sa admire cladirile si sa vada ce este in jurul lui.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Tanti. Daca nu ai bani, ne dai si noua de mancare?" Aud ca prin vis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma uit la pustiulica apoi la baietelul micut, le intorc spatele si intru in camin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma grabesc spre camera si ma uit pe pervaz (frigiderul improvizat). Mai am fix doua snitele de pui. Shit! Nu am decat doua feliute de paine. Uff.. Tot e mai bine decat nimic. Pun pe fiecare felie de paine un snitel, apoi ies afara. Copii acum sunt la caminul de vizavi si se tin dupa niste baieti care rad de ei. "Ce stii sa faci ma pentru 1 leu?".&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Hei" strig dupa ei si&amp;nbsp; baietelul micut vine spre mine. Pustiulica in schimb  se opreste in loc si cantareste rapid dupa cine merita sa se ia. Cand vede ca ii intind celui mic sandwich-ul, vine rapid spre mine, imi ia sandwichul din mana si apoi fuge spre baieti urlandu-mi "Multumesc taaantii!". Acum le cere 1 leu cu gura plina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Baietelul cel mic vazandu-l pe pustiulica, imi multumeste din ochi si tinand de sandwich de parca ar fi fost o comoara se grabeste cat poate de tare pentru a-l ajunge pe prietenul lui. Pustiulica, tot cu gura plina "Nu te mai graabi maaa. Ca nu cred ca ne dau baietii astia bani!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Zambind ma indrept iar spre camin, mai calma si mai impacata cu mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Chiar daca nu am putut sa le dau o masa completa, ma simt mai bine ca am reusit sa le mai potolesc un pic foamea. Poate data viitoare o sa imi permit sa le cumpar si lor o masa copioasa de la cantina. Data viitoare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;P.S : pentru a va folosi de imaginea utilizata in cadrul acestei postari aveti nevoie de autorizatia mea! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2998955545838905883?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2998955545838905883/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/rugaciune-2.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2998955545838905883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2998955545838905883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/rugaciune-2.html' title='Rugaciune 2...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FFGLVlffLBg/TX1Dxwg7xyI/AAAAAAAAAwM/RHR0EXad-TU/s72-c/244.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7138746874603375507</id><published>2011-03-10T14:05:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T14:05:49.668+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Angajament! 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/angajament.html" style="color: red;"&gt;Continuarea povestii Corinei&lt;/a&gt; : &lt;br /&gt;Fiind in Romania, contractul pe care l-a semnat pe perioada de proba a  fost unul de suprafata, ce probabil nu a fost atins de alte maini decat  cele ale secretarei. Desi ar fi trebuit sa existe 3 exemplare ale  acestuia, dintre care unul sa ii fie inmanat ei, Corina nu a primit nici  macar un servetel cu logo-ul barului.&lt;br /&gt;Cand s-a intors de acasa, Corina l-a sunat pe patron. Acesta a inceput sa se balbaie la telefon&lt;br /&gt;"Eu.. eu .. ti-am spus de la inceput ca am doua.. doua reguli. Sa nu fiu furat..."&lt;br /&gt;"Domnule, ma acuzati de furt? Ca nu inteleg! Ce legatura are asta cu banii pe care ar trebui sa ii iau pe zilele furate??"&lt;br /&gt;"Lasa-ma  sa termin! Am spus ca eu am doua reguli : Sa nu fiu furat si sa nu  plece nimeni fara sa imi dea un preaviz de o... de o... saptamana!"&lt;br /&gt;"Pai domnule..."&lt;br /&gt;"La..la..lasa-ma sa termin.. Eu am doua reguli : Sa nu fiu furat si... si ... fara preaviz nu! Hai sa vorbim fata in fata..."&lt;br /&gt;Nu  intelegea ce se intampla si care este problema patronului. Totul era  atat de simplu. Calculul fusese facut, trebuia sa primeasca atatia bani.  Ce mai era de vorbit?&lt;br /&gt;S-a dus cu inima indoita, insa voia sa  clarifice tot ce era de clarificat cu patronul respectiv. Sa ii dam si  un nume. Gabi. Gabi i-a explicat Corinei ca el este nemultumit de felul  cum a plecat ea, ca trebuia sa ii dea un preaviz, ca trebuia sa fie mai  exacta, ca nu trebuia sa se implice daca nu era hotarata. Si apoi i-a  spus sa vina a doua zi dupa bani.&lt;br /&gt;Zis zi facut. A doua zi, s-a  prezentat la local. Gabi era de negasit. Le-a explicat fetelor de acolo  ce vorbise cu o seara inainte cu Gabi si le-a spus decizia acestuia de a  veni la bar si de a lua banii. Ospataritele, stiind ca este fata  serioasa si vazand ca patronul nu raspunde la telefon, s-au hotarat sa ii  dea banii.&lt;br /&gt;Corina s-a dus acasa, multumita de faptul ca si-a  primit banii si jurandu-si ca data viitoare va fi mai atenta. Insa  seara, a inceput nebunia. A primit telefon de la barmanita care i-a dat  banii ce ii spunea sa aduca banii inapoi, deoarece nu trebuia sa ii dea.  La inceput nu a inteles care este problema, insa pana la sfarsitul  conversatiei, a realizat ca problema era decizia eronata a barmanitei de  a-i da banii fara acordul lui Gabi si ca aceasta era amenintata cu  concedierea si cu retragerea banilor din salariu.&lt;br /&gt;Cel mai bun lucru de facut era sa o calmeze pe gagica si sa vorbeasca cu Gabi.&lt;br /&gt;Il suna si dupa multe incecari acesta raspunde. Avea vocea ridicata cu cateva octave si vorbea destul de balbait. &lt;br /&gt;"Nu trebuia sa iti dea nimic... nimic..."&lt;br /&gt;"Poftim?"&lt;br /&gt;"Nu a avut acordul meu.. sa iti dea... ai auzit?? Nu a avut! Nimic!"&lt;br /&gt;"Domnule, nu inteleg care este problema mea!"&lt;br /&gt;"Nu a avut acordul meu sa iti dea BANII!"&lt;br /&gt;"Sa inteleg ca d-voastra m-ati chemat astazi in bar pentru ..."&lt;br /&gt;CLICK.&lt;br /&gt;"Alo.... ..."&lt;br /&gt;Corina se uita la telefon si se intreaba oare ce s-a intamplat. Il suna iar. Dar de data aceasta, Gabi nu mai raspunse.&lt;br /&gt;Dupa 5 minute suna iar barmanita sa ii spuna sa aduca banii. "Dar nu am terminat de vb cu Gabi"&lt;br /&gt;"Aaa m-a sunat pe mine si mi-a spus ca este prea nervos ca sa mai vorbeasca cu tine"&lt;br /&gt;"...."&lt;br /&gt;"Deci te astept cu banii, deoarece nu mi se pare corect ca pentru bunavointa pe care am aratat-o sa iti platesc eu salariul. Da? Merci din suflet"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aceasta este povestea reala a unei cunostinte. Este foarte pacat ca ne lovim de astfel de situatii la inceput de drum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7138746874603375507?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7138746874603375507/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/angajament-2.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7138746874603375507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7138746874603375507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/angajament-2.html' title='Angajament! 2'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-3547725719073694378</id><published>2011-03-07T14:00:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T14:03:45.332+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='munca'/><title type='text'>Angajament!</title><content type='html'>Corina a fost foarte incantata sa afle ca este chemata la interviu. Era primul interviu si avea emotii foarte mari. Chiar daca era pentru un amarat post de picol, faptul ca in sfarsit isi va castiga existenta singura o facea sa se simta foarte bine. Nu ii era afectata nici scoala, postul fiind part-time, ce sa mai, daduse norocul peste ea. Multi i-au spus ca este prea tanara si ca in anul 1 ar trebui sa stea sa isi vada de scoala, insa ea stia foarte bine cat poate, iar jobul asta cu siguranta nu era un impediment. &lt;br /&gt;Cand s-a dus acolo a sustinut interviul cu patronul, tanar de altfel, la vreo 30 de ani, ce parea foarte de treaba. Nici nu a stat pe ganduri ca a vazut-o si a inceput sa ii prezinte viitorul stralucit pe care l-ar putea avea in barul cu pricina. Corina stia ca nu asta isi dorea, o viata de ospatar intr-un bar din Brasov, oricat de stralucit ar fi acesta, insa simtea cum entuziasmul ii creste pe masura ce patronul colora atat de frumos imaginea. In aceasi seara i s-a spus ca poate sta in proba, iar daca totul merge bine, in maxim o luna va fi angajata. Plata se va face zilnic, impartind salariul de 800 de lei, pe care l-ar lua daca ar fi angajata, la 30 de zile la zilele de lucru.&lt;br /&gt;"Am doua lucruri care nu-mi plac : 1. nu imi place sa fiu furat si 2. sa ma anunti cu o saptamana inainte de a pleca!" i-a spus patronul inainte de a da mana cu ea.&lt;br /&gt;Si uite asa, a intrat Corina pe piata muncii.&lt;br /&gt;Prima seara a fost cea mai frumoasa. Multa lume noua, multi tineri in barul acela, multa muzica, ceva banuti. Dar a doua zi, cand s-a aglomerat, nu a mai fost asa frumos. Deja nu isi mai simtea picioarele si oboseala isi facea loc usor, usor. Programul trebuia sa fie de la 5 la 10, insa cum localul i s-a spus sa mai stea. A treia zi aceasi poveste. Nu s-a mai dus la examen deoarece era prea obosita. Nu este de bine!&lt;br /&gt;A patra zi stia deja ca nu isi mai dorea sa lucreze acolo. A incercat sa il sune pe patron. Acesta nu a raspuns. A incercat toata ziua, nimic. Iar s-a dus la munca, desi ii venea sa ia tava si sa o sparga de podeaua barului. A cinci-a zi deja nu mai putea. Dupa ce a incercat toata ziua sa il sune, in cele de din urma i-a trimis mesaj patronului spunandu-i ce nu mai poate sta. Nu contau motivele, pur si simplu nu mai putea sta. Stia ca nu este pregatita pentru a munci. Voia acasa, voia sa se duca ea in bar si sa fie servita, voia sa stea la cafea nu sa o stranga dupa masa! Nu i-a spus toate astea, ci doar ca nu mai poate.&lt;br /&gt;Patronul a fost nemultumit, insa i-a dat acordul sa se retraga si i-a spus ca imediat ce se va intoarce de acasa sa stabileasca cand se vor intalni pentru a-i putea da bani.&lt;br /&gt;De aici incepe adevarata poveste a Corinei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Va continua...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intrebari :&lt;br /&gt;Cat ati sta angajati intr-un loc in care nu credeti ca va potriviti? &lt;br /&gt;Credeti ca isi va primi Corina banii pe zilele lucrate?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-3547725719073694378?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/3547725719073694378/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/angajament.html#comment-form' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3547725719073694378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3547725719073694378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/angajament.html' title='Angajament!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-126475822310287144</id><published>2011-03-07T00:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T00:48:07.602+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Concurs!</title><content type='html'>Concurs : Cine face cei mai buni macinici din lume (fie ca sunt ca in Sud "ciorba" sau ca in nord "optari la cuptor") castiga toata recunostinta mea!! &lt;br /&gt;Reguli : &lt;br /&gt;- gatesti macinicii asa cum ai invatat;&lt;br /&gt;- ma chemi sa ii degust;&lt;br /&gt;- astepti rezultatul!&lt;br /&gt;P.S : daca sunt cu adevarat cei mai buni, poate ne intindem si la 40j de pahare de vin ;) :)) &lt;br /&gt;P.S.S : inscrierile se fac aici, prin comentarii :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bafta tuturor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-126475822310287144?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/126475822310287144/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/concurs.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/126475822310287144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/126475822310287144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/03/concurs.html' title='Concurs!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2761766721062061350</id><published>2011-02-27T09:23:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T09:26:57.674+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stire'/><title type='text'>Stire : Flinstone... here we come!</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="350" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-7aapY_yMnQ" title="YouTube video player" width="600"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu ca ar fi un lucru rau! Aceasta masina&amp;nbsp; este o inventie extrem de interesanta, creata de Charles Greenwood, masina ce ar avea raspunsul la 2 din cele mai mari probleme ale omenirii! Petrolul si ... obezitatea! Hei! Nu radeti!. Practic miscarea facuta de om (asemeni celei de la canotaj) este transformata in energie de rotatie. Alternativ, este integrat un motor ce ajuta la deplasarea masinii cand aceasta este operata de o singura persoana! Voila! Ne putem duce la magazin dand din maini si nu din picioare, si dupa cum puteti vedea din videoclipul de mai sus, mergand destul de repede! Ce sala fetelor, ce greutati baietilor, haideti sa fim eco si sa ne cumparam masina viitorului ;)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2761766721062061350?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2761766721062061350/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/stire-flinstone-here-we-come.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2761766721062061350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2761766721062061350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/stire-flinstone-here-we-come.html' title='Stire : Flinstone... here we come!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/-7aapY_yMnQ/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7914029103539054694</id><published>2011-02-25T08:00:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T10:11:36.755+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>There I go... on the market again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Amy Winehouse - Moody`s mood for love&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/eatableBrain/afe5e51d717829.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=eatableBrain&amp;hash=afe5e51d717829&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/eatableBrain/afe5e51d717829.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=eatableBrain&amp;hash=afe5e51d717829&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Bat usor ritmul in masa si misc capul zambind la melodia ce canta in casti. Nu este chiar asa greu sa stai singura la o masa si sa te bucuri de o cafea. Am si cartea la mine, dar m-am indragostit de melodia asta si nu ma pot opri din a o asculta. Cum sa citesc despre razboi, barbari si atrocitatile pe care le faceau pe vremuri, cand in urechi imi suna o voce frumoasa si ma indeamna sa iubesc. Cum??? Mi-am ales si locul de langa geam, pentru a ma putea uita la oamenii ce trec lenes sau dimpotriva mult prea grabiti si a-mi imagina cu ce se ocupa si ce ii aduce pe strada la ora asta. Multi s-au asezat pe banci pentru a fura razele slabe pe care le arunca soarele. Trebuie sa vina primavara! Nu mai e mult! O simt deja in aer si simt cum si buna dispozitie imi creste pe masura ce se lumineaza afara.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Aud o voce langa mine care spune ceva, insa ma gandesc ca poate este cineva care s-a asezat la masa de langa si intorc capul doar de curiozitate. In fata mea, un el, se uita fix la mine si amuzat imi face semn sa scot o casca. Uitandu-ma in jurul meu, apoi in spate, ridic un deget spre chipu-mi gingas pentru a fi sigura ca despre mine vorbeste. Tipul incepe sa rada de'a binelea si imi face un semn din cap ca da.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Da?" il intreb inca o data dupa ce scot castile din urechi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Da" imi spune el linisitit si aratandu-mi un scaun ma intreaba daca "Pot sa ....?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Aaaaa!! D'aia ma punea sa imi scot castile din urechi! Ca sa imi ceara un scaun! "Mda... poti!" ii spun zambitoare si totusi un pic cam dezamagita.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tipul trage de scaun si apoi se aseaza pe el "Este cel mai bun loc pentru a privi la ce se intampla afara! Nu pari genul care ar citi "Semnul lui Attila", poate mai degraba ceva mai romantic".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Surprinsa de faptul ca s-a asezat la masa, imi ia ceva secunde sa reactionez. Si desigur, cand reactia vine nu este cea care trebuie "De ce? Am fata de Sandra Brown?" ii spun ridicand o spranceana.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Nuu.. Scuza-ma, nu am vrut sa zic romantic in sensul ala. Si Sandra Brown e departe de a fi romantica! Este siropoasa cu tente porno!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Incep sa rad, deoarece exact aceasi parere o am si eu despre respectiva scriitoare. "Mda. Mai bine de atat nici ca ai putea-o spune! Nu sunt nici o cititoare romantica. Imi plac mai mult povestile de capa si spada. Sau poate cartile de buzunar haioase. Sau poate thrillerele. Ooo si cele politiste..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Observ" imi spune aratand spre cartea mea. "Asta in care dintre departamentele mai sus mentionate ar intra?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Hmmm... Nu prea intra niciunde" ii raspund prompt. "Este o carte pe care am cumparat-o la reduceri si mi-a trezit interesul titlul. In prima faza cand am vazut ca are tente istorice am aruncat-o intr-un colt al incaperii si sincer, daca nu mi se terminau cartile din biblioteca, acolo putrezea. Insa dupa ce am inceput sa o citesc ca lumea, realizez ca este o carte extrem de interesanta. Plus ca mai invat si istorie din ea. O batalie foarte" ... si ma opresc. Clar am emotii, pentru ca altfel nu as vorbi in continuu&amp;nbsp; ca o moara stricata. De cate ori se intampla sa mi se aseze un tip fain la masa? Noroc cu vocea din interior ce mi-a soptit ca daca vreau sa mai ramana la masa omul asta, as face bine sa pun pauza.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Continua" imi spune el, apropiindu-se de mine si privindu-ma interesat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Mai bine spune-mi ce carti iti plac tie" incerc sa fac in asa fel incat sa predau stafeta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Termina si dupa aceea iti povestesc si eu..." imi spune el dand ceasca de cafea la o parte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Deci elimina singurul obstacol care l-ar putea proteja imaginar si sta cu palmele deschise, nu stranse in pumn&amp;nbsp; si mainile nu sunt incrucisate. Ieeei!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Bine, bine" si gadilata in orgoliu stiind ca este interesat de ceea ce spun imi continui ideea despre carte. Dupa 20 minute o si termin. "E randul tau acum"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Pai imi place..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dupa vreo 2 ore, tipul ma intreaba ce fac a doua zi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Pai...  depinde cand anume" ii raspund gandindu-ma ca trebuie sa ma epilez pe  picioare, sa imi aplic masca de par, sa imi cumpar o crema de corp ca mi  s-a terminat, sa imi iau si alt parfum ca asta parca e prea puternic.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Pai tot pe la ora asta!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Hmmm... nimic in mod special!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Ce ai zice ca maine sa avem o prima intalnire!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu  stiu ce sa ii raspund, asa ca dau din cap. Shit! Oare trebuie sa ma  trezesc cu noaptea in cap sa ajung la timp? Shit, shit, shit! Si oare  maine sa vin cu blugii sau in fusta? Tocuri fato! Si clar epilatul!!  SHIT!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Si mai am o idee!  Maine, sa facem schimb de carti! Sa-mi aduci o carte ce crezi ca mi s-ar  potrivi si sa iti aduc o carte ce cred ca ti s-ar potrivi"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu-mi vine sa cred!! JUR! Cine este tipul care sta in fata mea? De unde a aparut? Unde a fost pana acum?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Ce zici? E ok?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Doamne  Dumnezeule, cu siguranta are vreo problema! E pe moarte! Sau are o  familie! Il asteapta copii acasa! Sau de fapt e schiop... Nu ca ar fi o  problema cu asta, dar de ce s-ar uita un tip asa de dragut la mine. Si  un tip care are si gandirea asta!! De ce?? Ce am facut sa merit asa  ceva?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Iar dau din cap a da, dar cuvintele refuza sa isi faca loc printre buze.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Pai atunci este un date! Da? Maine la ora asta exact aici! Te astept cu cartea!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Se ridica si imi ia mana intr-a lui.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Te  rog nu o pupa! Te rog nu o pupa!!" imi spun intr-una in minte, deoarece  prefer o strangere calduroasa de mana unui sarutat de mana! Insa  departe gandul asta de tip, deoarece buzele lui nu se indreapta spre  mana mea, ci chiar spre fata mea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Inima  imi bate cu putere si totul devine "slow motion" in jur. Hello!! Abia  ne-am cunoscut de cateva ore, abia stiu cum te cheama si crezi ca o sa  ne sarut.. Ce buze frumoase are!! Si uite ce nas drept si perfect. Si  ... Revino-ti!! Nu il cunosti! Ai tampit? Cum sa te pupi asa cu toata  lumea care ti se aseaza la masa!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Intoarce obrazul!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Saruta-l!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Intoarce obrazul!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;Saruta-l!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Intoarce obrazul!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;Saruta-l!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Intoarce obrazul!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;Saruta-l!&lt;br /&gt;Dupa  cateva milisecunde de lupta interioara, cand totul revine la normal si  buzele lui mai au putin pana imi ating fata, eu intorc capul si in locul  unui sarut patimas (dream on, baby!) primesc un pupic pe obraz (norocul  tau ca nu a scos limba!).&lt;br /&gt;Sa vedem ce o fi si maine!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7914029103539054694?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7914029103539054694/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/there-i-go-on-market-again.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7914029103539054694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7914029103539054694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/there-i-go-on-market-again.html' title='There I go... on the market again!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1872940781686098297</id><published>2011-02-24T11:25:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T11:29:33.401+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Alb-Negru</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Goran Bregovic - Black Cat White Cat&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/hrista19aida/0623c65cd12013.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=hrista19aida&amp;hash=0623c65cd12013&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/hrista19aida/0623c65cd12013.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=hrista19aida&amp;hash=0623c65cd12013&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Stau tolanita in pat cand aud vecinii de la camera de langa care ies distrati pe hol. Ma uit cu jind la castile care se afla pe masa, dar sila este prea mare si incerc sa ma uit la film, desi ii aud vorbind de parca s-ar afla langa mine si nu ne-ar desparti o usa. Rad zgomotos si bat din palme. Ciudat, ma duce cu gandul la maimutelele pe care le-am vazut intr-un film, in care acestea erau comparate cu femeile. Da, un misogin extrem s-a gandit la asta, deoarece un om normal daca ar sta alaturi de mine acum, ar ajunge la concluzia ca e gresit sexul pe care l-a asemuit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Cioaro, iesi afara" se aude vocea ragusita a unuia si rasul infundat al celorlalti. Incruntata, pun pauza filmului si&amp;nbsp; ma asez normal in pat, ciulind urechile. Poate o fi porecla stupida a unuia dintre ei. Din pacate nu! Ii aud batand cu putere in usa colegilor de la cealalta camera, in care locuiesc 2 baieti negri din Nigeria, batand dupa cum spuneam si urland "Cioara, nu auzi? Nu intelegi romana? Prostule! Cioara, ce cauti in Romania daca nu stii romana?". Simt cum un val de furie creste in mine si incep sa tremur adunandu-mi totusi curaj pentru a iesi afara. Pana la urma, oricat de multi or fi si oricat de beti, s-o gasi unu sanatos care sa nu ii lase pe ceilalti sa ma bata, nu?. Cand sa pun mana pe clanta, se aude usa nigerienilor deschizandu-se si vocea calma a unuia dintre ei "What's up man?".&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Da'te dracu de prost, ce cauti cioroiule in Romania?" isi continua mai sus mentionatul idiot ideea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"I can't understand what you say!" se aude dinspre vecin si dupa glas nu pare nicidecum intimidat de baietii stransi gloata la usa lui.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Da'l dracu ma, nu vezi ca e prost" intervine unul dintre romanasii perfecti, vazand probabil ca idiotul se incinge si probabil sare la bataie.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Ai dreptate! Cioara ordinara, mars la tine'n tara!" incepe sa cante idiotul si alaturi de ceilalti intra in camera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma uit la clanta pe care o tin in mana si ma intreb de ce trebuie sa fac parte dintr-o asemenea natie? Imi vine sa plang cand ma gandesc ca se presupune ca am evoluat atatia ani si multi dintre noi sunt de fapt inca la acelasi stadiu mental ca al unui taran rasist care nu facea deosebirea intre un om si o lopata, ba mai mult credea ca lopata ii este mai de folos decat omul.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;De ce se presupune ca am ajuns la democratie daca inca sunt atat de blamati negrii sau alte natii mai colorate decat noi? In caminul in care stau, negrii sunt vazuti ca niste oameni galagiosi a caror mancare pute. Eu ii am langa camera mea si va spun sincer ca de multe ori, vecinii mai sus mentionati sunt mai galagiosi intr-o seara decat au fost nigerienii de cand m-am mutat! Si mancarea lor pute? Dar cand se prajeste ceapa noastra cea de toate zilele sau carnatii sau ficateii? Astea nu put, pentru ca sunt romanesti? Sau cum?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sper ca intr-un viitor apropiat sa nu mai judecam atat de mult oamenii dupa culoarea pielii, dupa faptele lor! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1872940781686098297?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1872940781686098297/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/alb-negru.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1872940781686098297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1872940781686098297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/alb-negru.html' title='Alb-Negru'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-8833728736400327922</id><published>2011-02-20T03:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T03:09:06.618+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Two is better than one?</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Boys Like Girls - Two Is Better Than One (Feat. Taylor Swift)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/RoxyMimi/ff3de3195b4f17.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=RoxyMimi&amp;hash=ff3de3195b4f17&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/RoxyMimi/ff3de3195b4f17.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=RoxyMimi&amp;hash=ff3de3195b4f17&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sunt fericita. In sfarsit! Ma intorc de la scoala, in care ma regasesc cu totul, si ma indrept spre ceea ce cu siguranta este jumatatea mea. Ok, stiu ca spun vorbe mari, pentru ca ne intalnim exclusiv de prea putin timp, dar&amp;nbsp; cine zice ca trebuie sa astepti o perioada mare pentru a-ti declara tie personal ca in sfarsit ai gasit ce cautai? Si pana la urma, cand pe legatura de chei pe care o porti cu tine se gaseste si o cheie catre apartamentul lui, spuneti-mi naiva, dar pentru mine este motiv indeajuns de puternic sa ma gandesc la el ca la jumatatea mea! In orice caz, plimbarea mea spre casa este o placere desavarsita. Parca plutesc! Imi vine sa imbratisez pe toata lumea si sa ii iau pe toti la dans. Ca in filme. De obicei nu sunt asa entuziasmata, dar de data asta am zis sa nu ma mai gandesc atat de mult la consecinte si sa ma arunc cu capul inainte. Se pare ca asta trebuia sa fac de la inceput! Daca ma obisnuisem sa suflu in iaurt, nu mai mancasem o ciorbita calduta de mult, si acum ma imbat cu savoarea ei atat de delicioasa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Avand in vedere ca am avut o zi mai scurta la scoala, m-am hotarat sa ii pregatesc o surpriza. In punguta am frisca, ciocolata topita si perechea de tanga pe care am pastrat-o expres pentru o ocazie speciala. Bag mana in geanta si ca de fiecare data, ma holbez putin la chei. Este totusi prima oara cand cineva imi acorda aceasta onoare. Permisiunea de a strabate locasul personal, de fiecare data cand ai chef, este cel mai important pas al unei relatii. Si in sfarsit, am primit-o si eu. Cu zambetul pe buze, deschid usa si desi stiu ca el nu este acasa intru pe varfuri. Poate din cauza paranoiei pe care o am vizavi de locurile care nu sunt ale mele. Inchid usa usor si ciulesc urechile spre dormitor de unde se aud niste sunete. Din 2 una : ori a uitat televizorul deschis cand a plecat, ori lenesul nu s-a dat jos din pat. Desi ma astept sa fie prima supozitie, in sine mea sper sa fie a doua.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Imping usa de la camera si o claie de par brunet este primul lucru pe care il vad. Apoi spatele unei femei ce se misca pe ceva ce pare a fi prietenul meu. Primul meu instinct este sa ma intorc cu spatele si sa pun mana la ochi. Sunetul facut de punga la miscarea brusca ii face pe cei doi sa constientizeze ca e cineva in camera. Se intorc spre mine speriati si pesemne sar din pat, deoarece cand ma intorc ea este cu cearceaful in coltul opus al camerei si el, in toata splendoarea lui, da speriat din maini si imi spune "Nu e ceea ce pare! Iubito, ea e nimeni". O scena comuna intr-un film de mana a doua.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Simt cum creste furia in mine si ma aud urland "Prostule!". Arunc punga spre el si reusesc sa il lovesc in oua. Cand se lasa pe vine cu lacrimi in ochi, privirea imi cade asupra ei, care speriata imi spune stins "Nu am stiut...". "Curvo!" si ma indrept hotarata spre ea, cu gandul de a o parui pana o las cheala. Deodata imi sare el in fata, ma prinde de maini si incepem o mica lupta, in care sansele sunt de partea mea, avand in vedere ca am unghiile lungi si el este dezbracat. Imi aduc aminte de copilarie si recurg la cea mai veche metoda de a bate un baiat. Ridic genunchiul si ii aplic inca o lovitura la oua, fapt ce il doboara tinandu-si strans in maini pretioasele. "Sper sa ti se umfle si sa cada" ii urlu in timp ce revin la targetul initial, si anume acela de a lasa un semn si pe pisicuta din colt. Insa, il aud scrasnind printre dinti "Nu e vina ei".&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma opresc. Cuvintele astea ma obosesc intr-o clipa. In locul urii de mai inainte, simt frig si pustietate. Nu plang, pentru ca nu vreau sa ii dau satisfactia de a ma vedea doborata, in schimb imi indrept spatele si cu o voce ce nu pare a mea ii spun cu un zambet amar pe fata "Ai dreptate. Nu e vina ei." Ma uit in jurul meu si ma intreb ce e de facut. Nu stiu de ce, ma aplec si iau punga pe care am aruncat-o mai devreme. Apoi ma indrept spre usa. In prag, ma opresc, caut in geanta cheia si o scot. Alaturi de ea, se agata si 1 leu. Destinul asta. Le arunc pe ambele pe jos si cu ironie in ochi si zambetul in continuare pe buze le spun : "Nu mai am nevoie de cheie si .. leul ti-l las pentru prestatia din ultima perioada! Bucura-te de el fato, ca e tot o splendoare".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cu capul ridicat si orgoliul putin sifonat, ma gandesc ca sometimes one is far more better than two!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-8833728736400327922?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/8833728736400327922/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/two-is-better-than-one.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8833728736400327922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8833728736400327922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/two-is-better-than-one.html' title='Two is better than one?'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-988155350085716540</id><published>2011-02-19T19:43:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T19:43:17.361+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='videoclip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Goodnight!</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uNSBq6hvU1s" title="YouTube video player" width="450"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma apropii de caminul in care stau si deja mi-am format un instinct prin care numar geamurile de la parter, ajung la geamul camerei mele si observ daca e lumina aprinsa sau nu. Nu e. Oftez si incetinesc pasul, de parca asta ar insemna ca in cele cateva secunde pe care le mai am pana la usa poate se intampla ceva si nu va trebui sa intru. Nu se intampla nimic. Descui usa si intru in micuta incapere. Patul nefacut si gol, laptopul lenes pe scaun, vasele uitate pe masa si hainele imprastiate peste tot. Dezolant! Ceva trebuie sa se schimbe! Oricat de mult as sta plecata, tot aici ma intorc si cred ca asta este problema. Ma arunc in pat si reusesc sa ma lovesc de cartea lasata langa perna. O julitura in frunte imi mai trebuia. Ma intorc pe spate, deschid laptopul care nu se grabeste sa ma intampine cu imaginea-i vesela si intr-un tarziu dau drumul la muzica. Acum nu-mi mai ramane decat sa fixez peretele pana imi voi face planul pe seara asta.&lt;br /&gt;Ar trebui sa am un el pe care sa il chem sa alunge monotonia. Sa il sun inainte sa ma intorc acasa si sa imi faca o surpriza. Sa ma astepte cu un pachet KFC pe masa si o sticla de bere in mana, spunandu-mi ca daca mai stateam mult apela la berea mea. Sa ma sarute pe frunte si sa imi dea o palma peste fund. Sa nu ma lase sa ma schimb, spunandu-mi ca blugii vin prea bine pe mine, si sa ma enerveze ciupindu-ma de solduri.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor sa impart cu cineva patul asta prea mic... Ceva trebuie sa se schimbe!&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi, un film prost si o ciocolata pot schimba orice! De fapt, cu o ciocolata sunt sigura ca poti salva lumea! Pana data viitoare ;), goodnight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-988155350085716540?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/988155350085716540/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/goodnight.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/988155350085716540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/988155350085716540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/goodnight.html' title='Goodnight!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/uNSBq6hvU1s/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5930891209855461639</id><published>2011-02-18T23:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T03:34:19.555+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='videoclip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Romanii au muzica in vene!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width: 400px;"&gt;&lt;object height="300" width="420"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://romaniiautalent.protv.ro/video/ge/vid/MTI4MjE="&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://romaniiautalent.protv.ro/video/ge/vid/MTI4MjE=" allowscriptaccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;Vezi mai multe pe &lt;a href="http://www.protv.ro/video/romanii-au-talent_dance-fiction-club_12821.html"&gt;Romanii au talent&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu as fi facut o postare despre Romanii au talent, insa cand am dat de video-ul urmator nu m-am putut abtine! E prima oara cand vad in Romania asa ceva si sunt super incantata ca vad un crew prin ale carui vene curge sange romanesc. Or mai fii si altii, nu contesc, dar spre deosebire de "baletul" pe care au inceput sa il practice baietii ce la un moment dat se dadeau mari "breakdance-ri", vad si eu ceva nou pe piata! Bafta baieti si asteptam si alte asemenea prestatii!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S : si ritmul de la piesa lui Don B imi place, pacat ca foloseste numai cuvinte malitioase, ca altfel m-as fi declarat incantata ;).&lt;br /&gt;P.S.S : am adaugat si video, dar repet : CUVINTE MALITIOASE! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/vUsuXkTcgbE" title="YouTube video player" width="610"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5930891209855461639?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5930891209855461639/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/romanii-au-muzica-in-vene.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5930891209855461639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5930891209855461639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/romanii-au-muzica-in-vene.html' title='Romanii au muzica in vene!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/vUsuXkTcgbE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-6014751015698799455</id><published>2011-02-17T15:19:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T21:27:31.556+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Ruj rosu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Janis Joplin - ''Little girl blue''&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Seherezada/19e81bc4de2a2c.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=Seherezada&amp;hash=19e81bc4de2a2c&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Seherezada/19e81bc4de2a2c.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=Seherezada&amp;hash=19e81bc4de2a2c&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Imi analizez (?!?!?!) trasaturile in oglinda si ma intreb ce imi lispeste. Parul lung pana dupa umeri, de culoarea toamnei tarzii, imi incadreaza ochii mici verzi a caror nuanta o pot cuceri oricand pe cea a marii furtunoase, nasul&amp;nbsp; este mult prea mic din fata si mult prea mare din profil, buza de jos putin mai groasa ca cea de sus, fata patratoasa dar nu intr-atat incat sa deranjeze, urechile nici prea mari, nici prea mici. Riduri foarte fine incep sa se formeze in jurul gurii, si cred ca acest lucru nu se datoreaza varstei, ci multelor zile petrecute razand din suflet. Nu sunt deranjante, ba chiar cred ca imi adauga o aliura mai elevata. Sprancenele nu sunt groase, ca ale unui bibliotecar trecut de vreme si uitat cu nasul in carti, dar nici linii perfect conturate ca ale unei domnisoare abia iesite de la coafor. Se incadreaza perfect in fata mea.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Imi trag buzele inspre obrazul stang si la unison spranceana stanga se ridica, formand un V intors, dezvaluindu-mi o noua fata. Imi stramb gura si in partea cealalta, spranceana insa nu se mai modifica dupa buze, si cand observ ce iese incep sa rad singura in fata oglinzii. Imi tugui buzele si ridic sprancenele, imi largesc zambetul si imi pun mainile pe obraji. Ce lipseste oare? Ma intorc catre calculator si ma gandesc ca daca m-as aseza la el, ar insemna sa incep iar sa invat, si desi mai e atat de putin, nu mai vreau. Ma asez pe pat si imi ridic picioarele sprijinindu-le de placa de deasupra patului, cand realizez ce mi-ar trebui.&lt;br /&gt;Rujul rosu. Rujul rosu care te face sa te simti sexi indiferent de locul in care te afli si indiferent de ce porti pe tine. Rujul rosu care iti intoarce zambete, si acelasi ruj rosu pe care l-am sters cu ura cand ceva nu a mers bine, lasand urme pe toata fata. Uff... Trebuie sa imi cumpar un ruj rosu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later edit : poate primesc cadou un ruj rosu :))) ca si asa vine luna aia ... in care cica ar trebui sa primim multe flori... Sa speram ca nu mai omoara nimeni flori pentru mine! :P &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-6014751015698799455?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/6014751015698799455/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/ruj-rosu.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/6014751015698799455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/6014751015698799455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/ruj-rosu.html' title='Ruj rosu...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-9047562059638489225</id><published>2011-02-16T10:46:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T10:46:14.927+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='videoclip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Dreams can come true!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si totusi, lasand ipocrizia la o parte, cati dintre noi nu isi doresc un partener? Ok, nu credem in dragoste, dar credem in a avea langa noi pe cineva. Fie ca este vorba de cineva pe care sa sunam in miez de noapte, cineva la care sa ne plangem, cineva pe care sa luam in brate si cineva caruia sa ii zambim, cineva care sa ne faca sa radem si cineva in care sa avem incredere. Parca as descrie un prieten foarte bun, insa stim cu totii ca este o mare diferenta intre un prieten si un iubit. Pe al doilea esti mai gelos :))).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Un iubit/o iubita este omul cu care te vezi peste cativa ani. Sau poate altii vad acest iubit ca omul cu care isi pot cumpara o casa si investi in viitor, poate chiar pot face cativa copii, omul cu care sa cunune si alaturi de care sa se duca la chefuri ale firmei, in orice caz, iubitul/iubita asta it's a must.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Intrebarea este : cum stii care este persoana potrivita? Sunt sigura ca nu sunt singura care s-a ars in incercarea de a-si gasi partenerul, si inca eu m-am ars usor, sunt atatea persoane inselate pe lumea asta, batute, sau asupra carora s-au infaptuit cine stie ce alte atrocitati, cauzate de o persoana in care au avut incredere. Cum poti gasi aroma buna, daca esti prea preocupat sa sufli si in iaurt? Pe vremuri, femeile erau multumite de barbatii care, desi le tratau ca pe niste animale de companie cu care si-o mai trageau din cand in cand, le mai dadeau ceva de mancare si nu le lasau semne dupa batai. Daca mai primeau si un culcus intr-o incapere incalzita insemna clar ca erau iubite. Dupa multi ani de evolutie, am ramas doar cu frica de a fi ranite. Iar la barbati, daca inainte nu isi aratau sentimentele, acum dupa atatia ani de evolutie cand relatiile nu se mai bazeaza pe contacte "primare" (masa, sex, bataie) si cand trebuie sa munceasca pentru o femeie (nu mai sunt indeajuns cativa cai) ba mai mult sa o respecte, mai au parte si de riscul de a ramane cu buza umflata. Ca atare, ne intoarcem la aceasi frica pe care au mostenit-o si barbatii. Practic, dupa acest mic rationament, suntem o mare de frica.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dar asta nu inseamna ca atunci cand ni se pare ca suntem atrasi de cineva sa ne lasam prada fricii si sa o luam la fuga ca niste caini batuti de soarta. Nuuuu. Noi ne aruncam cu capul inainte! Intotdeauna.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si asta pentru ca, desi suntem o mare de frica, niciodata nu ne pierdem speranta. Oricat de mica si iluzorie ar fi aceasta, o speranta este echivalenta cu insasi esenta de a trai. Totul va fi bine, este motto-ul general si ce-i drept, fara un astfel de motto, Pamantul ar fi locuit doar de maimute, pentru ca noi restul ne-am sinucide!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cred ca, ce vreau sa spun din postarea asta, este ca indiferent de cat de stupida pare dragostea asta,&amp;nbsp; important este sa o incercam. Sa nu renuntam la primul semn negativ si sa nu ne ascundem in indiferenta. Daca am primit o palma de la viata, sa nu ramanem etern blocati si sa nu analizam totul pornind de la acea palma. Sa nu il invinovatim viitorul de faptele trecutului.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Peace, love and lots of money :))) and never forget : Dreams can come true! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/X_I4wtNPv5w" title="YouTube video player" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Am atasat aceasta melodie, deoarece am ascultat-o la filmul "500 days of Summer", iar melodia apare intr-o secventa in care ma regasesc intru totul :D . Dupa un eveniment mai important pentru mine, merg pe strada cu un ranjet mare pe buze,&amp;nbsp; in ritm de dans si aproape salutand pe toata lumea :D ..&lt;br /&gt;I am a dreamer, but i'm not the only one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-9047562059638489225?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/9047562059638489225/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/dreams-can-come-true.html#comment-form' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/9047562059638489225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/9047562059638489225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/dreams-can-come-true.html' title='Dreams can come true!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/X_I4wtNPv5w/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5484127668814887461</id><published>2011-02-13T21:16:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T21:16:39.519+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Love?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Mumm-Ra  -   She's Got You High&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Crystynika/9ec8dea9d1b7c7.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=Crystynika&amp;hash=9ec8dea9d1b7c7&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Crystynika/9ec8dea9d1b7c7.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=Crystynika&amp;hash=9ec8dea9d1b7c7&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Totul are un inceput, iar acela este prima intalnire. Si cand zic asta ma refer la prima privire pe care o indrepti spre el si realizezi ca acolo este ceva mai mult decat un oarecare. Fie ca este vorba de un necunoscut intr-o cafenea, de un tip cu care abia ai facut cunostinta, de un vechi prieten, inceputul este dat de clipa in care ochii comunica cu omuletul din interior si acesta incepe uneori sa pompeze inima mai tare si sa se joace cu intestinele, iar alteori ataca genunchii si simti ca nu mai ai forta sa te clintesti din loc.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Daca ti s-a intamplat acest lucru, inseamna ca ai luat caruselul si ai pornit cu rapiditate inspre necunoscut. Inseamna ca te-ai aruncat singura in prapastia nelinistilor, incertitudinilor si sentimentelor contradictorii. Desigur, aceasta calatorie poate avea doua directii primordiale, de care este legat direct acest el "provocator" de situatii : &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Situatia 1 : Nu te place! Inseamna ca drumul tau este pavat cu sperante, vise si multe iluzii. Orice privire, orice vorba, orice gest are o multitudine de semnificatii si tu trebuie sa incerci sa o gasesti pe cea reala. Nu o gasesti&amp;nbsp; si incerci sa te tii cu dintii strans de sentimentele tale, spunandu-ti ca meriti mai mult si cu siguranta o sa vada si el asta, si daca il astepti indeajuns de mult te va vedea si iti va multumi pentru tot sprijinul tau, iar apoi te va lua in brate, te va duce in dormitor si iti va arata ca "happiness comes for those who know how to wait". Hello, este o fantezie! Iti pierzi ani din viata doar pentru a-l privi cum isi gaseste femeia viselor lui, cu care eventual se casatoreste si face o droaie de copii, iar tu... Tu cea care ai fost atat de rabdatoare, o sa ramai cu buza umflata si o sa te intrebi daca trebuie sa te apuci sa strangi de pe acum bani pentru a te insemina artificial si a avea macar un copil care sa te iubeasca asa cum esti. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ce implica aceasta situatie : ras, plans, iluzii, deziluzii, sperante, dezamagiri, vise, nehotarare, plans, plans, un pupic sau poate doua, plans, neincredere, ras, ras, plans, privit cum gaseste pe altcineva, plans, plans, plans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Situatia 2 : Te place! Ieeei, soarele a rasarit pe strada ta! Totul e roz, chiar daca urasti culoarea asta de mic copil; pasarile iti canta pe la cap, chiar daca iti este frica de ele; oamenii danseaza in jurul tau, chiar daca le urli din strafundul sufletului "I hate this sooong!". Totul e roz, iar in circul asta, el este numarul principal al serii (al noptii, al diminetii, fiecare cum pofteste!). Iesiri in oras, priviri languroase, zambete din suflet, facut mancare impreuna si murdarit bucataria, facut baie dezbracati la lac si prinsi de gardieni + luat amenda babana, mutat impreuna si uimit cat de mic este apartamentul si ca nu este adevarat ca barbatii au mai putine haine/creme/probleme ca femeile. Si in final, rutina. Patul neschimbat, fata de masa a carei culoare incepe sa se stinga, peretii prea albastrii, cada prea mica, patul prea mare si acelasi loc putin. Si apoi, intr-o zi cu soare sau poate o zi ploioasa, sau poate cand ninge afara, iti intorci privirea de la pereti catre el si stii. Stii ca nu mai este acolo. Intrebarea este : Asta vrei de la viata? Sau poate ar trebui sa strangi bani de pe acum pentru a te insemina artificial si a avea macar un copil care sa te iubeasca asa cum esti.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ce implica aceasta situatie : fluturi in stomac, iluzii, sperante, vise ras, pupat, sarutat, sex, sex, sex, ras, sex, certat, plans, sex, ras, plans, impartit bani, impartit sarcini, rutina, deziluzii, certat, neincredere, certat, plecat de acasa, plans, plans, plans, sex, ras, inselat, plans, sex, plans, intrebare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu asa sunt toate povestile, nu asa sunt toate ideile, nu asa sunt toti oamenii. Dar inceputul este mereu acelasi. In cazul in care nu vrei sa ai parte de asa ceva, am gasit solutia perfecta : DATA VIITOARE, INCHIDE OCHII!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5484127668814887461?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5484127668814887461/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/love.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5484127668814887461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5484127668814887461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/love.html' title='Love?!?!?!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-8668835128100073395</id><published>2011-02-11T10:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T20:13:56.679+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><title type='text'>Today!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Desi in acest moment ar trebui sa raman ingropata in muntele de foi ce incearca sa imi explice cu ardoare ce inseamna virtualizarea, eu o sa folosesc momentul de repaos pe care mi l-am permis pentru a mai scrie ceva pe blogul atat de drag si totusi atat de evitat in ultima perioada.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Am vrut sa scriu si in alte zile, aveam si cateva fraze in cap ce, pe masura ce ma apropiam de laptop, intrau intr-un con de umbra, iar cand ajungeam la momentul "postare noua", erau total de negasit. Ba voiam sa mai adaug ceva la Valentine's Don't, ba voiam sa scriu o chestie despre bunele maniere pe care ar trebui sa le aiba un tip pentru a fi demn de atentie (:))) desi eu as cam fi atenta la tot ce misca), ba voiam sa ma mai fac putin de bascalie povestindu-va cine stie ce moment penibil din viata mea... Dar din pacate, in aceasta sesiune nu am avut decat ochi pentru coli. Goale, scrise, virtuale, reale. Fraze ce descriu cine stie ce echipamente input/output, multe imagini cu ce o sa trebuiasca sa facem, multe carti despre ceea ce ar trebui sa stim. Nervi, unghii roase, buze muscate, topait pe hol si alte asemenea gesturi prevestitoare de examen. Cred ca orice student interesat de scoala trece prin ceea ce spun eu aici. Si eu inca imi doresc multeeee!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Care este diferenta dintre facultate si master? Acum imi place la nebunie sa vorbesc despre ceea ce fac! Cand vad ce pot sa realizez, inima incepe sa imi bata cu putere si un sentiment de reusita imi invadeaza fiecare por; parca imi vine sa fac ture si dansuri de victorie cand observ ca am facut o animatie reusita!! Mai ceva ca un copilas care a gasit comoara ascunsa sub pat sau care a primit cadoul de Craciun!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si mai nou, am inceput sa citesc si o carte istorica "Semnul lui Attila" scrisa de Guido Cervo. Cand am cumparat-o, ma asteptam ca numele de Attila sa apara in carte doar ca o trimitere catre celebrul conducator hun, si sa fie o poveste despre un politist trecut de prima tinerete care incearca sa isi cucereasca personalitatea pierduta din cauza dependentei de droguri sau a mitei mult prea mari. M-am inselat! Si ce bine am facut! Este povestita chiar razvratirea hunilor impotriva romanilor si implicarea burgunzilor in aceasta lupta doar pentru a scapa de salbaticia mercenarilor. Sunt extrem de prinsa de aceasta carte si zabovesc ceva timp la masa pentru a reusi sa citesc cat mai mult din ea (este momentul cel mai prielnic pentru a o citi, avand in vedere ca astept cu ceva timp). Astazi m-a uimit descrierea odioasa facuta hunilor. Oameni hidosi care isi purtau pe fete si pe corp semnele bataliilor la care au luat parte. Poate dupa ei i-au realizat pe trolii care s-au luptat in "Stapanul Inelelor", pentru ca numai ei imi veneau in minte la descrierea autorului despre huni :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In orice caz, va recomand sa cititi cartea! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-8668835128100073395?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/8668835128100073395/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/today.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8668835128100073395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8668835128100073395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/today.html' title='Today!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-496248730194126421</id><published>2011-02-10T20:12:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T20:31:19.502+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><title type='text'>Rugaciune...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cobor din autobuz si fara prea mult chef ma indrept spre spatele acestuia pentru a-mi lua bagajele. Nu ma ia nimeni din statie (mda.. sunt fata mare si trebuie sa ma descurc, nu?) si asta nu inseamna decat ca trebuie sa ma organizez astfel incat sa ma pot cara cu ele pana la 4 si de acolo la 5 si de acolo... La naiba! Mereu zic ca o sa sun pe cineva, dar cand vine momentul sa o fac, ma uit in agenda si nu imi sare nici un nume in cap. Si daca totusi ma gandesc la cineva, nu reusesc sa formez numarul pentru ca imi este prea rusine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cu mainile incarcate ma tarasc pana la ghiseul de bilete. Acolo toti stau imbulziti de parca s-ar vinde paine calda si nici macar un om nu se clinteste vreun centimetru pentru a-mi face loc. Ma ridic pe varfuri si observ ca automatul de bilete sta singur si parasit asteptand pe cineva sa il bage in seama. "E defect automatul?" intreb destul de tare si singura reactie pe care o primesc este aceea a unei doamne care se uita la mine furioasa. Probabil din cauza ca mi-am lasat geamantanul mare pe piciorul ei. "Ma scuzati" si cu un ranjet de copil mic pe buze incerc sa ma strecor prin multime. Reusind sa lovesc toti oamenii cu cel putin o bucatica din bagajul meu, ajung intr-un final la automat.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Imi golesc umerii de genti si imi misc putin gatul cand ... "Da si mie 1 leu!! " Intorc capul pentru a vedea cine a vorbit asa ragusit si langa mine se afla un ghemotoc de praf, par incalcit si haine mult prea mari, cu ochii caprui mici si mainile impreunate. Primul gest la vederea ei a fost sa pun mana pe bagaje si sa inchid geanta. Ea si-a continuat poezia mult prea rostita si s-a asezat in fata mea, observand probabil ca ma deranjeaza sa o stiu in spatele meu. "Hai da si mie un leeeu" imi spune ragusit si rugator. Las capul in jos si cand sunt pe punctul de a-i spune sa plece mai aud pe cineva langa ea. De data asta o voce mult mai subtire. Cand ma uit in directia lor, alaturi de fata se afla un baietel&amp;nbsp; de juma de metru, ale carui mansete de la geaca ii atarna ca unui nebun scapat de la sanatoriu, si al carui fes ii acopera ochii, motiv pentru care copilul tot impinge fara succes fesul in sus. "HAI TEEE ROOOG!" incep sa ingane amandoi uitandu-se cu speranta la mine. Rusinata de gestul meu, continui sa imi apar bagajele si incerc sa bag cat mai repede biletul scuipat de aparat in geanta. Imi aranjez gentile pe umeri si pornesc spre autobuz. Copii ma urmaresc ca niste caini vagabonzi ce au simtit un om, rugandu-ma sa le dau 1 leu... Ciudat. Nu mai cer 10 bani. Probabil si pe ei i-a ajuns criza.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma uit iar spre cel mic, ce incearca sa tina pasul cu noi si abia ca isi mentine echilibrul incercand sa mearga fara a se uita la drum. Ma opresc si bag mana in buzunar. Nu&amp;nbsp; am decat 10 bani marunti si ii intind catre cel mic. Deja privirea lui este cu totul acaparata de mica moneda argintie si un zambet larg ii apare pe buze. Fetita il prinde pe dupa umeri si asteapta cu sufletul la gura sa ii pun banutii in palma. Cu pumnul strans si zambetul pe buze, imi arunca amandoi un multumesc din varful buzelor si incep sa alerge spre urmatorul calator.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu raman in statie asteptand autobuzul si gandindu-ma daca oare copii astia meritau moneda aia. Adica, daca o vor folosi pentru ei sau acel banut micut isi va gasi loc in buzunarul vreunui parinte alcoolizat sau al vreunui sef de gasca care ii va batea apoi pentru prestatia slaba din timpul zilei. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-496248730194126421?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/496248730194126421/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/rugaciune.html#comment-form' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/496248730194126421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/496248730194126421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/rugaciune.html' title='Rugaciune...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7555862803776005506</id><published>2011-02-01T20:08:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T02:25:00.474+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Valentine's DOn'T!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Maroon 5 - Makes Me Wonder&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/wolfy_4you/44fdd39e45a98f.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=wolfy_4you&amp;hash=44fdd39e45a98f&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/wolfy_4you/44fdd39e45a98f.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=wolfy_4you&amp;hash=44fdd39e45a98f&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/valentines-dont.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Si uite asa ma tot gandesc la motive pentru care am atitudinea asta defensiva cand vine vorba de Valentine's Day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Poate are legatura si cu faptul ca de cativa ani incoace pana la sfarsitul lui februarie sunt in sesiunea de examene si atentia nu-mi poate fi focalizata pe o chestie atat de superficiala. Hai sa nu fiu ipocrita, ca la inceputul facultatii nici asupra examenelor nu imi era extrem de focalizata aceasta atentie.. sau imi era. Nu mai stiu sau nu mai vreau sa stiu, dar hai sa nu ma indepartez foarte mult de subiectul principal.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Intr-un comentariu la postarea precedenta, scria cineva despre cumparaturile absurde care se fac cu ocazia acestei zile. Si are dreptate. Valentine's Day este inca o zi in care romanii invadeaza magazinele pentru a cumpara porcarii si pentru a umple buzunarele comerciantilor de mana a doua care produc animalute odioase de plus, inimoare cu inscriptii stupide (care ar fi amuzante cu alta ocazie) sau cine stie ce alte asemenea confectii care atrag privirea dar care nu sunt cu absolut nimic folositoare. Desigur, in acest moment, intra in actiune patura bogata, care declara cu pieptul aruncat in fata si nasul cat mai sus ridicat, ca in cadrul ei nu se arunca banii pe prostii, ci se cumpara lucruri extrem de folositoare. Dragii mei, da, este foarte folositor un Rolex nou, cand prietenul are o marca poate nu chiar atat de cunoscuta, dar la fel de scumpa, sau da, dragii mei, este foarte folositoare o masina de teren data unei blonde care are deja o decapotabila. Drumurile sunt grele, stiu! Si da! Clar, este o investitie sa te duci la magazine de marca pentru a-ti achizitiona lenjerii intime sexoase, la medic pentru a-ti umfla buzele si la coafor pentru a-ti face freaza si unghiile (de preferinta cu inimioare), pentru ca astea nu le faci pentru Sf. Valentin, ci pentru tine personal.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dar hai sa trecem peste toate chestiile astea, ca pana la urma nu am nici masina in fata caminului, nici unghiile gelate si nu am mai vazut interiorul unui coafor de ceva timp! Asa ca vb in necunostinta de cauza. Poate chiar sunt niste investitii pe termen lung, si cu siguranta iti intaresc increderea in sine si imaginea in fata celorlalti! Si poate faptul ca sunt facute in fiecare an de Sf. Valentin aduce noroc.. sau ceva de genu'! Stiti cum sareau aborigenii inainte (cum am auzit in povesti) pentru a veni ploaia? Poate asa e si cu toate pregatelile astea de Valentini! Nu aduc ploaia, stati linistiti, dar poate aduc alte beneficii, if u know what i mean ;)!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ce mai faceti voi de Sfantul asta al vostru?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu in urma cu ceva ani, am sarbatorit cel mai tare Sf. Valentin ever! Cu gagicile!! Pana la un moment dat, ca apoi ni s-au alaturat baietii! Si uite asa, o gasca de oameni single am sarbatorit si ne-am distrat cat pentru toti cuplatii din lume. Bine, recunosc ca dupa ce au venit baietii am sarbatorit si un Valentin.. Dar de la cap la coada, a iesit totul genial... Daca primesc aprobarea fetelor, o sa va povestesc cum a stat treaba si acolo ;)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cred ca o sa o continui si pe asta... mai vedem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TUn1dH0deOI/AAAAAAAAAvo/b57zi2ycRZM/s1600/fake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="275" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TUn1dH0deOI/AAAAAAAAAvo/b57zi2ycRZM/s320/fake.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Later edit : Uite ca Adela a gasit si imagine potrivita pentru acesta postare! Din pacate nu suntem sigure de unde este imaginea. Motiv pentru care scriu cat se poate de clar : &lt;b&gt;ACEASTA IMAGINE NU ESTE JUST CATA!! &lt;/b&gt;Dar cu siguranta descrie in foarte putine cuvinte ce am scris eu in multe fraze :))) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7555862803776005506?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7555862803776005506/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/valentines-dont.html#comment-form' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7555862803776005506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7555862803776005506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/02/valentines-dont.html' title='Valentine&apos;s DOn&apos;T!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TUn1dH0deOI/AAAAAAAAAvo/b57zi2ycRZM/s72-c/fake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1074865060586457201</id><published>2011-01-31T09:21:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T09:22:10.256+02:00</updated><title type='text'>La cantina...</title><content type='html'>Candva in jurul pranzului, cand asteptam la coada la cantina :&lt;br /&gt;Bruneta : "Fata, si mie imi este frica de intuneric uneori"&lt;br /&gt;Satena : "Sa mori tu! Credeam ca numai eu mai inchid ochii noaptea de frica!!!" adauga tinandu-si mainile strans.&lt;br /&gt;Roscata : ":|"&lt;br /&gt;Bruneta : "Si cu toate astea, am mers de o gramada de ori pe intuneric acasa..."&lt;br /&gt;Satena : "Fata, cum ai reusit?? Cred ca as fi ramas acolo de frica!" tinandu-si mainile si mai strans in dreptul pieptului!&lt;br /&gt;Roscata casca.&lt;br /&gt;Bruneta : "E, ca nu veneam singura! Bodyguarzii de la club ma duceau pana acasa!" spune toate astea ridicand barbia cat mai sus.&lt;br /&gt;Satena : "Fata, asa te inteleg!" rasufland usurata.&lt;br /&gt;Roscata uitandu-se cu o spranceana ridicata : "Fata, eu cand munceam la bar veneam de o gramada de ori pe intuneric. Faceam casa, bacsisul, furam ce era de furat, iar apoi luam taxiul pana acasa!"&lt;br /&gt;Bruneta si Satena in acelasi timp : ":|"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1074865060586457201?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1074865060586457201/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/la-cantina.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1074865060586457201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1074865060586457201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/la-cantina.html' title='La cantina...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-3841726398373690067</id><published>2011-01-30T12:31:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T12:31:44.688+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's DOn'T!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Se apropie cu pasi repezi Valentine's Day.. Si ca intotdeauna, mi-ar placea sa organizez o petrecere ANTI VALENTINE's DAY!! Acum o sa sara toti "cuplatii" si toate "gagicile" lor sa imi spuna ca asa spune orice invidios care o "arde" singur de ziua asta. Ei bine, sa zicem ca 5% e invidie. Dar restul de 95% nu are nici cea mai mica legatura cu invidia!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;De ce aveti nevoie de o zi in care sa va declarati iubirea? De ce trebuie sa primiti inimioare de sf Valentin cand acestea ar avea o valoare mult mai mare daca le-ati gasi pe perna cand ajungeti acasa dupa o zi obositoare de munca? Adica, atunci cand te iubesti, te iubesti in fiecare zi, nu?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Oricum, observ ca in ziua de azi, sunt extrem de schimbate lucrurile. Inainte (ca sa nu ii spun, pe vremea mea!), cand aveai un prieten, il tineai ascuns cateva luni, pentru a vedea daca functioneaza cum trebuie. Ii verificai&amp;nbsp; vitezometru, acceleratia, schimbatorul de viteze, uleiul si toate cele, apoi vedeai daca detine echipament durabil sau se limiteaza la un singur circuit, apoi verificai daca nu a lasat vreun surub prin alte garaje si asa mai departe. Dupa si numai dupa ce erai sigura de faptul ca nu este uzat si ca poate fi folosit pe termen lung, incepeai sa te afisezi cu noua achizitie prin oras. Acum, functioneaza totul cu viteza luminii. Are carcacasa valabila? Nu mai conteaza scurgerile de lichid de frana, e bun pentru cel putin o tura in vazul lumii. How can that be right???&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Pentru cine nu intelege ce am spus mai sus, sa va explic! Inainte, cand aveai un prieten, stiau doar prietenii cei mai apropiati de el. Si asta nu pentru ca l-ar fi cunoscut personal, ci pentru ca le povesteai ce faceti, pe unde faceti. Dupa o perioada in care te acomodai cu acesta, urma marea intalnire cu prietenii, unde acestia il analizau ca pe un soarece de laborator. "Imi place ca e inalt" "Putea sa stea langa tine la faza aia" "Daca il ating musca?" "A vorbit/nu a vorbit" etc. Desigur, mai erau situatiile din camin, in care individul cunoastea oamenii cu care umblai, pentru ca se aflau mereu la tine camera. Dar si atunci, dura pana aveai curaj sa te pupi/saruti/pipai cu el de fata cu ceilalti! Si ultimele situatii, cand prietenul era prieten de'al tau, abia atunci puteai sa te afisezi peste tot cu el... cam stie pe toata lumea! In orice caz, cel mai apreciat moment din toate situatiile de mai sus, era momentul in care auzeai primul te iubesc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In ziua de azi, toata lumea se "iubeste". Oare e bine? Eu inteleg ca trebuie sa iubim lumea, dar sunt sigura ca referirea asta nu este decat teoretica!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cred ca o sa mai continui cu asta...&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-3841726398373690067?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/3841726398373690067/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/valentines-dont.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3841726398373690067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3841726398373690067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/valentines-dont.html' title='Valentine&apos;s DOn&apos;T!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1695859526573917573</id><published>2011-01-29T21:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T21:00:34.053+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='videoclip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Orice s-ar intampla... o sa fiu in regula!</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" class="youtube-player" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WQ2NdiE59bI" title="YouTube video player" type="text/html" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1695859526573917573?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1695859526573917573/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/orice-s-ar-intampla-o-sa-fiu-in-regula.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1695859526573917573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1695859526573917573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/orice-s-ar-intampla-o-sa-fiu-in-regula.html' title='Orice s-ar intampla... o sa fiu in regula!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/WQ2NdiE59bI/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-8533835979905812117</id><published>2011-01-28T11:07:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T11:09:53.225+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dupa un anumit timp...</title><content type='html'>Am primit un mail foarte frumos zilele trecute, mail pe care as vrea sa il cititi si voi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span lang="FR" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1296205194_0" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; cursor: pointer;"&gt;Jorge Luis Borges&lt;/span&gt; - DUPA UN ANUMIT TIMP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;Dupa  un anumit timp, omul invata sa perceapa diferenta subtila intre a  sustine o mana si a inlantui un suflet, si invata ca amorul nu inseamna a  te culca cu cineva si a avea pe cineva alaturi nu e sinonim cu starea  de siguranta, si asa, omul incepe sa invete…ca sarutarile nu sunt  contracte si cadourile nu sunt promisiuni, si asa omul incepe sa-si  accepte caderile cu capul sus si ochii larg deschisi, si invata sa-si  construiasca toate drumurile bazate in astazi si acum, pentru ca terenul  lui “maine” este prea nesigur pentru a face planuri … si viitorul are  mai mereu o multime de variante care se opresc insa la jumatatea  drumului.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Si  dupa un timp, omul invata ca daca e prea mult, pana si caldura cea  datatoare de viata a soarelui, arde si calcineaza. Asa ca incepe sa-si  planteze propria gradina si-si impodobeste propriul suflet, in loc sa  mai astepte ca altcineva sa-i aduca flori, si invata ca intr-adevar  poate suporta, ca intr-adevar are forta, ca intr-adevar e valoros, si  omul invata si invata … si cu fiece zi invata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Cu  timpul inveti ca a sta alaturi de cineva pentru ca iti ofera un viitor  bun, inseamna ca mai devreme sau mai tarziu vei vrea sa te intorci la  trecut. Cu timpul intelegi ca doar cel care e capabil sa te iubeasca cu  defectele tale, fara a pretinde sa te schimbe, iti poate aduce toata  fericirea pe care ti-o doresti. Iti dai seama cu timpul ca daca esti  alaturi de aceasta persoana doar pentru a-ti intovarasi singuratatea, in  mod inexorabil vei ajunge sa nu mai vrei sa o vezi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Ajungi  cu timpul sa intelegi ca adevaratii prieteni sunt numarati, si ca cel  care nu lupta pentru ei, mai devreme sau mai tarziu se va vedea  inconjurat doar de false prietenii. Cu timpul inveti ca vorbele spuse  intr-un moment de manie, pot continua tot restul vietii sa faca rau  celui ranit. Cu timpul inveti ca a scuza e ceva ce poate face oricine,  dar ca a ierta, asta doar sufletele cu adevarat mari o pot face. Cu  timpul intelegi ca daca ai ranit grav un prieten, e foarte probabil ca  niciodata prietenia nu va mai fi la aceeasi intensitate. Cu timpul iti  dai seama ca desi poti fi fericit cu prietenii tai, intr-o buna zi vei  plange dupa cei pe care i-ai lasat sa plece. Cu timpul iti dai seama ca  fiecare experienta traita alaturi de fiecare fiinta, nu se va mai repeta  niciodata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Cu  timpul iti dai seama ca cel care umileste sau dispretuieste o fiinta  umana, mai devreme sau mai tarziu va suferi aceleasi umilinte si  dispret. Cu timpul inveti ca grabind sau fortand lucrurile sa se  petreaca, asta va determina ca in final, ele nu vor mai fi asa cum  sperai. Cu timpul iti dai seama ca in realitate, cel mai bine nu era  viitorul, ci momentul pe care-l traiai exact in acel moment. Cu timpul  vei vedea ca desi te simti fericit cu cei care-ti sunt imprejur,iti vor  lipsi teribil cei care mai ieri erau cu tine si acum s-au dus si nu mai  sunt… Cu timpul vei invata ca incercand sa ierti sau sa ceri iertare, sa  spui ca iubesti, sa spui ca ti-e dor, sa spui ca ai nevoie, sa spui ca  vrei sa fii prieten, dinaintea unui mormant, nu mai are nici un sens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Dar din pacate, se invata doar cu timpul…”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-8533835979905812117?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/8533835979905812117/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/dupa-un-anumit-timp.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8533835979905812117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8533835979905812117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/dupa-un-anumit-timp.html' title='Dupa un anumit timp...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-4369479766644997021</id><published>2011-01-27T19:30:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T19:30:18.978+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Liniste ... si fulgi de zapada...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Pink - Fuckin Perfect&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/MondenInfo/88a76856f5283b.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=MondenInfo&amp;hash=88a76856f5283b&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/MondenInfo/88a76856f5283b.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=MondenInfo&amp;hash=88a76856f5283b&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lumina stalpului de care ma rezem este singura ce mai imprastie lumina pe strada asta obscura. Ridic capul catre cer si fulgii de zapada se aseaza pe obrajii mei. Se topesc, iar in locul lor raman doar mici stropi de apa ce se preling usor catre barbie. Ciudat, pare ca plang. Oftez greu si ma urnesc din loc. Ascult. Nu vreau sa ma mai gandesc si imi focalizez toata atentia pe mediul inconjurator. In stanga, langa o masina, se aude mormaitul unui barbat care trage nervos de usa si isi jura ca data viitoare va lua cu el si spirt. Un catel trece nepasator pe langa mine, miscandu-si alene coada, de parca s-ar plimba pe bulevard, si labutele lui fac zgomot la atingerea zapezii ce abia s-a depus. Niste copii se alearga in fata mea. Iau zapada in palmele lor micute si o arunca in sus razand si spunandu-si unul altuia "Ningeee". Din dreptul barului se aud rasete zgomotoase si voci ragusite care isi povestesc pataniile, iar aburul subtire care iese prin gaura din perete are un miros intepator de tigara. Incerc sa zambesc, cand trec pe langa biserica, si uitandu-ma la crucea mare din varful turnului, Ii spun ca "o sa-mi treaca". O gasca mare de studenti este pe partea cealalta si un baiat gesticuleaza entuziasmat ceva, spre amuzamentul celorlalti.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mai oftez o data si ma opresc intr-o intersectie. Daca as avea o banca, as ramane aici si m-as uita la masini pana m-as simti in stare sa ... Pana m-as simti in stare. O masina claxoneaza si o domnisoara blonda imi face semne nervoasa ca pot sa trec. Nu am de ce, insa pentru a nu fi facut efortul in zadar, traversez rapid strada. De aici pot vedea parcul. Inghit in gol si ma intreb daca linistea pe care o emana parcul m-ar ajuta la ceva. Cu inima indoita, merg pe o alee si ma asez pe o bancuta. Oare ar fi trebuit sa dau zapada la o parte? Ce liniste este aici. Nimeni nu trece prin parc la ora asta. Ridic iar capul catre cer si fulgii de zapada se aseaza pe obrajii mei. De data asta, picaturile formate de ei se unesc cu lacrimile care au inceput sa imi umple ochii. Linistea asta. &lt;br /&gt;Linistea asta este cea mai urata. Este ca si cum te-ai afla inchis intr-un cosciug de sticla. Ii poti vedea pe toti cum isi duc viata, greutatile, si cand vrei sa intinzi mana pentru a-i atinge ... nu o poti face. Uf. Fara sa imi dau seama, de la un plans linistit, am inceput sa sughit si sa ma inec cu propriile-mi lacrimi. Strang zapada in palme si plang. Plang pentru toate cate m-au durut si nu le-am aratat. Plang pentru toate cate am vrut sa le spun si am tacut. Plang pentru toate cate am vrut sa simt si nu m-am lasat. Si plang...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Fulgii de zapada cad nestingheriti pe obrajul meu inrosit de frig si sunt martori ai dramei puse in scena intr-un parc oarecare. Imi sterg mainile ude de blugi, si apoi cu manseta gecii imi sterg lacrimile de pe obraji. Ma ridic de pe banca si trag adanc aer in piept. Ma indrept spre intersectie si cu zambetul pe buze ma uit la soferul care incetineste si imi raspunde tot cu un zambet. Traversez rapid intersectia, si niste copii arunca din greseala cu zapada in geaca mea. Ma uit strengareste la ei, iau zapada de jos pe care o presar apoi pe deasupra lor. Ei alearga in jurul meu si rad cristalin, cum numai copii o pot face. Cainele se pare ca si-a gresit directia si cand ne intalnim pentru a doua oara il intreb razand "Ce faci Patrocle? Te-ai incurcat? Nu mai e buna harta?". In fata bisericii, ma opresc pentru a ma uita la crucea mare si Ii spun calma "Ti-am zis eu... ". Pe langa barul fara nume, acelasi miros apasator de tutun se simte in dreptul usii si aceleasi voci ragusite se contopesc cu sunetele muzicii pe care a pus-o probabil cineva, pentru a mai anima atmosfera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Strada obscura este acum luminata si se pot vedea curtile caselor albite de vreme. Stalpul de la care am plecat nu mai este singur si pare ca lumineaza majestuos spectacolul oferit de iarna. Ridic capul spre cer si astept linistita sa simt senzatia racoroasa pe care mi-o ofera fulgii de zapada ce imi ating obrajii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TUGqqspdkjI/AAAAAAAAAvk/EuRKztcgM0g/s1600/097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="275" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TUGqqspdkjI/AAAAAAAAAvk/EuRKztcgM0g/s320/097.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Pozele sunt realizate de mine si sunt proprietate exclusiva Just Cata, pentru a le putea folosi aveti nevoie de acordul meu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-4369479766644997021?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/4369479766644997021/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/liniste-si-fulgi-de-zapada.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/4369479766644997021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/4369479766644997021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/liniste-si-fulgi-de-zapada.html' title='Liniste ... si fulgi de zapada...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TUGqqspdkjI/AAAAAAAAAvk/EuRKztcgM0g/s72-c/097.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-530051749689636033</id><published>2011-01-26T11:38:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T11:55:28.942+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Poveste de toamna ... spusa iarna!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Guns N' Roses - November Rain&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Idameliana/68702c75e4ec60.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=Idameliana&amp;hash=68702c75e4ec60&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Idameliana/68702c75e4ec60.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=Idameliana&amp;hash=68702c75e4ec60&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Intr-o noapte linistita de noiembrie, pe 18 mai exact, o mamica din Targoviste a dat nastere unui ingeras... Acest ingeras a luat forma unei fetite cu ochii mari si nasucul mic. Ea este Nicole!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;De ce va spun povestea ei? Pentru ca in momentul in care i-am vazut ochisorii si a inceput sa rada, am simtit cum mi se topeste inima. Si daca mergem pe principiul ca "Ce e frumos, si lui Dumnezeu ii place", nu vreau sa ma bucur singura inocenta acestei creaturi minunate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Ioana si Catalin, sa va traisca fetita si sa fie sanatoasa, fericita si sa aiba o viata plina de impliniri!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_nroNoQwI/AAAAAAAAAus/Li0VQm2kJSM/s320/223.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_nvicTe_I/AAAAAAAAAuw/PGFmusiAOEI/s1600/251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_nvicTe_I/AAAAAAAAAuw/PGFmusiAOEI/s320/251.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_nyAiNHwI/AAAAAAAAAu0/joUHOBT-kko/s1600/261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_nyAiNHwI/AAAAAAAAAu0/joUHOBT-kko/s320/261.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n0kQ5uzI/AAAAAAAAAu4/GGlYmPPnfwA/s1600/262.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n0kQ5uzI/AAAAAAAAAu4/GGlYmPPnfwA/s320/262.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n2z3EY6I/AAAAAAAAAu8/zDnc_gK0iis/s1600/265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n2z3EY6I/AAAAAAAAAu8/zDnc_gK0iis/s320/265.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n5L3qYNI/AAAAAAAAAvA/Fg5usqG-198/s1600/288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n5L3qYNI/AAAAAAAAAvA/Fg5usqG-198/s320/288.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n7332v_I/AAAAAAAAAvE/xzkJVw3ChQY/s1600/292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n7332v_I/AAAAAAAAAvE/xzkJVw3ChQY/s320/292.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n-TfeYiI/AAAAAAAAAvI/Mcg7rrvT1fw/s1600/296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_n-TfeYiI/AAAAAAAAAvI/Mcg7rrvT1fw/s320/296.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_oBO5CinI/AAAAAAAAAvM/cCvDHw0hXaQ/s1600/314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_oBO5CinI/AAAAAAAAAvM/cCvDHw0hXaQ/s320/314.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" 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class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Pozele sunt realizate de mine si sunt proprietate exclusiva Just Cata, pentru a le putea folosi aveti nevoie de acordul meu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-530051749689636033?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/530051749689636033/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/poveste-de-toamna-spusa-iarna.html#comment-form' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/530051749689636033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/530051749689636033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/poveste-de-toamna-spusa-iarna.html' title='Poveste de toamna ... spusa iarna!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TT_nroNoQwI/AAAAAAAAAus/Li0VQm2kJSM/s72-c/223.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-3504793144768947796</id><published>2011-01-23T04:18:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T04:46:47.951+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='videoclip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Copilaria noastra vs copilaria voastra...</title><content type='html'>Ce parere aveti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" class="youtube-player" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1O-KA4YKBis" title="YouTube video player" type="text/html" width="480"&gt;&amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;P.S &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;P.S : Aceasta melodie contine cuvinte obscene!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-3504793144768947796?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/3504793144768947796/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/copilaria-noastra-vs-copilaria-voastra.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3504793144768947796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3504793144768947796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/copilaria-noastra-vs-copilaria-voastra.html' title='Copilaria noastra vs copilaria voastra...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/1O-KA4YKBis/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-891655662339552106</id><published>2011-01-22T08:00:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T08:00:03.640+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pact... cu diavolul'/><title type='text'>Pact cu diavolul...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ziua in care mi-am pierdut sufletul este o zi extrem de trista pentru  toata omenirea, este o zi in care fiecare se simte trist fara a avea un  motiv bine definit, fiecare crede ca lipseste ceva in viata lui. Dar hai  sa nu sar asa peste povestea palpitanta a momentului si a motivului  pentru care am ramas fara suflet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;[...]&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul_20.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Apare Z... langa banca mea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Buna! Ce faci?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ma intorc la el si fac ochii mari, de parca as fi vazut un monstru si nu baiatul de care imi place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Cata?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Realizand  ca as putea cadea intr-un penibil mai mare de atat incerc sa ii spun pe  un ton cat mai nonsalant "AAaa... M-ai speriat"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Scuze... Uite..  am auzit ca ai facut tema pe care ne-a dat-o profa. Stii, avem si noi  ore cu ea... Se poate sa imi imprumuti si mie caietul pana maine? Ca nu  am inteles bine derivatele astea.. Derivate! Auzi! Ce nume mai e si  asta! Si ma gandesc ca tu te pricepi mai bine.. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Doamne ce frumusel e... Cum de nu l-am vazut pana acum asa?" ma gandesc in timp ce vorbeste el. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Adica mi-au spus baietii ca te descurci.. Intelegi? Si cum avem  aceeasi tema ma inspir de la tine... Sau poate doar o copiez... Ha Ha  Ha" si incepe sa rada stanjenit intrebandu-se probabil de ce nu zic  nimic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Poftim?" ii spun scuturand din cap si imbujorandu-ma la gandul ca nu am auzit nimic din tot ce a spus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Poti sa imi imprumuti si mie caietul de mate?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Desigur"  ii spun fara sa stau pe ganduri. Umblu in ghiozdan si ii scot rapid  caietul cu pricina. "Poftim! Sper sa te ajute la ceva" si ii zambesc cat  pot de dragut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Din momentul in care a iesit din clasa, am inceput  sa plutesc. Ma simteam ca o salvatoare. Imi imaginam cum ma va cere in  casatorie pentru ca sunt asa de desteapta si pentru ca inteleg  matematica. Am plutit pana acasa. Am plutit cand am iesit in fata  scarii. Am plutit cand m-am plimbat prin oras. Am plutit cand am facut  temele. Am plutit si cand am ajuns a doua zi la scoala. Am plutit... Am  plutit pana cand mi-a dat caietul. Am plutit si cand a iesit din clasa.  Am plutit pana am deschis caietul pentru a vedea daca nu cumva a scris  ceva pe acolo, vreun mesaj secret, vreo poezie, vreo fraza dintr-o  carte. Am rasfoit tot caietul si am ajuns la sfarsitul lui. "Nuu...."  Deodata chipul mi s-a intunecat si am inceput sa tremur. Lacrimi mi s-au  format in coltul ochilor si gura mi s-a intredeschis usor. Inima a  inceput sa imi bata cu putere si singurul lucru pe care mi-l mai doream  era sa se formeze un crater in dreptul meu si sa ma inghita pamantul. De  la sfarsitul caietului, pe coperta mai exact, imi zambeau nepasatoare  toate literele pe care le scrisesem cu o zi in urma.... Nu imi zambeau,  ba chiar radeau malefic si ma aratau cu degetul, zicandu-si una alteia  ca nu exista o mai mare idioata ca mine. Mi-am simtit capul greu, si  fara a ma mai impotrivi creierului, am inceput sa il izbesc de caiet,  implicit de banca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-891655662339552106?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/891655662339552106/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul_22.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/891655662339552106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/891655662339552106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul_22.html' title='Pact cu diavolul...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5612880938274075265</id><published>2011-01-20T08:00:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T10:50:42.095+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pact... cu diavolul'/><title type='text'>Pact cu diavolul...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ziua in care mi-am pierdut sufletul este o zi extrem de trista pentru toata omenirea, este o zi in care fiecare se simte trist fara a avea un motiv bine definit, fiecare crede ca lipseste ceva in viata lui. Dar hai sa nu sar asa peste povestea palpitanta a momentului si a motivului pentru care am ramas fara suflet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;La ora de matematica, profa vorbeste despre derivate. Mai exact ii explica unui coleg care este regula derivarii, pentru a mia oara. Avand in vedere ca am terminat exercitiul, intorc caietul si incep sa desenez pe coperta acestuia. Desenez o cheie si apoi un breloc care este legat de aceasta cheie. Apoi fara sa realizez incep sa schitez ceva. Se contureaza un mare "Z...." pe care il ingros, ii fac onduleuri si apoi il leg nonsalant de cheie. Ca si cand as realiza ce am facut, acopar brusc caietul, gest destul de brutal si zgomotos.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Catalina, s-a intamplat ceva?" o aud pe profa si realizez ca toti colegii de uita la mine. Ma inrosesc instant si caut rapid in minte un raspuns prin care sa ma scot.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Hmmm.. tocmai am avut o revelatie cu privire la ceea ce ati spus d-voastra si am reusit sa termin exercitiul!" ii raspund dintr-o gura de aer.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Bine, bine.. atunci pastreaza linistea sa ii apuce pe toti revelatia asta!" imi spune ea zambind si se intoarce iar la colegul de la tabla. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Rasuflu usurata, si imi intorc caietul la exercitiul rezolvat. Mintea din pacate imi zboara iar la &lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul_18.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;seara minunata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Mai trec 2 exercitii pe care le rezolv la fel de repede ca pe primul, si cand realizez ca o sa mai dureze ceva pana se dumiresc toti cum sta treaba cu matematica asta, imi intorc iar caietul pentru a-mi admira capodopera. Pana la urma "Z..." ar putea fi numele oricui, nu? Si fara a avea nici o rusine, incep sa ii scriu numele de familie alaturi de prenumele meu "X... Catalina". Incerc sa fac o semnatura care sa aiba la baza numele lui. Chicotesc in sinea mea la gandul ca ma antrenez de pe acum, insa asta nu ma opreste sa continui sa ma semnez. Nu las nici un coltisor nesemnat. Si ca un facut aud si soneria. Profesoara ne spune rapid temele pentru a doua zi&amp;nbsp; si apoi ne lasa sa ne vedem fiecare de pauza lui.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ca intotdeauna, iau baietii fumatori si mergem in toaleta pentru a trage o tigara. Avem pana si jocul nostru "Nu scrumam, la cine pica scrumul nu mai fumeaza", pentru a ne lupta pentru putinele tigari pe care le avem. Ma pun in dreptul usii de la baie, care are vedere spre clasa de matematica. Acolo vad colegii zburdand din banca in banca, si cu putin noroc poate o sa il vad si pe el. Nu am noroc.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Trece ziua fara sa ne dam seama. Desigur, a doua zi suntem foarte putini cu temele rezolvate. Profa se enerveaza si ne obliga sa devenim mai activi la ore, fapt pentru care nu imi mai lasa timp de a ma gandi la activitati extracurriculare. Ora se termina mai rapid ca niciodata&amp;nbsp; si nu incepe bine pauza ca apare Z in fata mea!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5612880938274075265?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5612880938274075265/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul_20.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5612880938274075265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5612880938274075265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul_20.html' title='Pact cu diavolul...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-3188810146668174814</id><published>2011-01-19T09:06:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T09:15:51.066+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='informatii'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='videoclip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rahat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diverse'/><title type='text'>Romanian bargain!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Inainte de a citi aceasta postare, va rog sa va uitati la urmatoarea &lt;a href="http://guzgan.ro/14657-dacia-duster-reclama-interzisa.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;RECLAMA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ia sa imi spuneti voi mie, cine credeti ca a avut ideea sa faca aceasta reclama? Probabil vreun idiot care a urmarit emisiunea in care frantuzii "ne imita" sau probabil vreun alt idiot care a fost talharit de unu' care sustinea sus si tare ca e roman. Sau probabil o fi vazut &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXod6hn2TA0"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;documentarul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; nepotrivit la stiri. Sau filmul cu Rona Hartner, despre Romania si cum se vorbeste aici (ar trebui sa pun in ghilimele vorbeste, pentru ca desi sunt in Romania, orice idiot care a vazut &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74RdfFfN24Q"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;filmul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; a prins ideea ca se afla intr-o satra de tigani... tigani care injura al naibii de mult). Sau poate a vazut&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WH2CABcffAo"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Borat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (si stie ca Kasakhstan este de fapt undeva in Romania).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu cred ca e asa de importanta ideea cu cine a avut ideea. Ci mai degraba cine a aprobat-o si cine a filmat-o.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cati dintre parintii vostrii s-au dus sa cumpere o masina? Cati dintre voi ati cumparat o masina? Sau hai sa incercam si cu ceva mai mic, ceva de care aveti nevoie sau poate doar ceva care va place.&amp;nbsp; Cati ati fost la piata/magazin/prezentare si ati inceput sa va injurati cu vanzatorul? Sau poate acasa sunteti cuminti si prin alte tari va faceti de cap! Cati dintre voi v-ati dus prin afara si ati inceput sa injurati "the sales man"?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Probabil cativa vor da din cap rusinati, insa majoritatea vor spune ca nu au avut nici cel mai mic interes in a se lua la harta cu altcineva in mijlocul pietei. Cu siguranta, aceasta majoritate defineste "romanian bargain" si cu siguranta aceasta majoritate va fi dezgustata la porcaria de reclama facuta pentru Dacia Duster. Nici macar nu pot sa o iau ca pe un misto. Nu pot sa vad decat un alt afront la ceea ce inseamna cu adevarat Romania si la ce le sunt prezentate celorlalte tari despre noi. Cu asemenea reclama, nu ma mai mira cand merg in afara si se uita ciudat la mine italienii sau spaniolii, pentru ca probabil se asteapta sa erup cu un "m****f**er-ule s**k my d**k" sau un mai usor "f**k you"! Pacat ca masina este chiar frumoasa, insa la o astfel de reclama eu nu sunt atrasa de a o cumpara, pentru ca un om care se "bargain" ca aia nu stiu cum ar putea produce o masina buna. Pacat!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-3188810146668174814?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/3188810146668174814/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/romanian-bargain.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3188810146668174814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3188810146668174814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/romanian-bargain.html' title='Romanian bargain!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1181549760929884809</id><published>2011-01-18T22:23:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T22:36:01.417+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pact... cu diavolul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Pact cu diavolul...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ryan Adams and The Cardinals - Wonderwall&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Teonna/32f98f5ccc5e2e.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=Teonna&amp;hash=32f98f5ccc5e2e&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Teonna/32f98f5ccc5e2e.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=Teonna&amp;hash=32f98f5ccc5e2e&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Ziua  in care mi-am pierdut sufletul este o zi extrem de trista pentru toata  omenirea, este o zi in care fiecare se simte trist fara a avea un motiv  bine definit, fiecare crede ca lipseste ceva in viata lui. Dar hai sa nu  sar asa peste povestea palpitanta a momentului si a motivului pentru  care am ramas fara suflet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ca in orice poveste, eroul principal trece si prin momente urate pe care si-ar dori sa le stearga din memorie, dar care il caracterizeaza si il formeaza. In cazul de fata, avand in vedere ca pactul cu diavolul nu a venit din prea mult bine, eroina principala, adica eu, am fost pusa in ipostaze mai putin placute, din care nu am iesit tocmai cu zambetul pe buze. Una dintre acestea isi are inceputul intr-o seara cetoasa de februarie, intr-un restaurant dintr-un oras micut, unde intamplator sarbatoream onomastica unui coleg. Eram foarte multi invitati, colegi de clasa, colegi de scoala si persoane apropiate ale respectivului coleg. Avand in vedere ca personalitatea nu imi permitea sa stau ascunsa intr-un colt obscur, ma aflam in centrul atentiei, ba chiar in centrul meselor, dansand frenetica. Deoarece melodia imi intrase sub piele, simteam un plus de energie pe care l-am folosit pentru a ma batai prin toata incaperea, sarind de la o persoana la alta, ridicand-o de pe scaun si imbiind-o in a dansa la randu-i. La un moment dat, ajung la un coleg de la clasa de matematica. Nu stiam cum il cheama, dar il mai vazusem pe holuri sau cu baietii, si ma amuza faptul ca la inceputul anului l-am auzit vorbind cu o voce foarte ridicata pentru un baiat.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Hai, nu mai sta jos, ritmul iti ordona sa dansezi" ii spun zambind si atentionandu-l cu degetul aratator.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Bine, bine... Dar nu stiu sa dansez foarte bine" imi raspunde pe un ton foarte masculin si se ridica in toata splendoarea.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ca intr-un vis, totul in jur se incetineste si ca pe un fluture care iese din gaoace, incep sa il vad cu adevarat pe tip. Era mult mai inalt ca mine, avea un ten masliniu si un corp atletic. Tunsoarea era in stil "Nick Carter" (ehe, cine stie de BackstreetBoys anii 2002, stie despre ce vorbesc, ceilalti sa se gandeasca la un castron :P), fapt ce ii incadra ochii caprui, mari si patrunzatori. Buzele erau carnoase si cu ajutorul lor chipul era perfect per total.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Daca pana atunci sarisem ca un cangur, cand m-a prins de maini am inceput sa ma fastacesc, si numai datorita beculetelor multicolore din local nu s-a oprit lumea in loc din cauza rosetii ce mi se instalase pe fata. Ca un facut, s-a schimbat melodia si a inceput un blues foarte linistit. Tipul de langa mine s-a uitat zambind, intrebandu-ma cu ochii si un zambet daca dansam. Avand in vedere ca inca imi tinea o mana intr-a lui, am bagat ochii in pamant, am ridicat din umeri si m-am apropiat de el.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Cand mi-a cuprins talia, am simtit un fior prin tot corpul si pentru prima oara incepusem sa ma intreb daca asta inseamna dragostea despre care auzisem atatea.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;"La ce te gandesti atat de intens?" ma intreaba el usor.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Realizez ca nu sunt singura si zambind ii raspund fara sa ridic capul catre el "Nu stiu cum te cheama.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Incepe sa rada usor si imi raspunde "Z..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;To be continued...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1181549760929884809?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1181549760929884809/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul_18.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1181549760929884809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1181549760929884809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul_18.html' title='Pact cu diavolul...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-37908671776705373</id><published>2011-01-15T08:00:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T08:00:01.078+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diverse'/><title type='text'>Geam!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Deschid ochii si incerc sa ii pastrez fixati asupra unui punct de'al patului, insa nu reusesc. Ma dor atat de tare pleoapele incat inchid ochii si fara sa imi dau seama ma regasesc in intunericul de dinaintea incercarii mele esuate de a ma trezi. Oare cat o fi ceasul? E asa de liniste pe hol! Sper sa nu ma fi trezit la 1 noaptea, ca o sa fie tare greu sa ma adorm. Ultimul lucru pe care mi-l amintesc este laptopul de pe al carui ecran imi zambesc actorii cu care ma intretin de cateva zile incoace. Nu imi aduc aminte sa il fi oprit, insa nici nu am puterea sa verific daca mai este aprins. Imi imaginez ca daca ar fi fost, as fi auzit macar zumzetul de albina lucratoare pe care il face de obicei. Insa nimic nu perturba linistea. Sau intunericul.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ca intr-un diapozitiv, imi apar niste imagini din visul pe care l-am avut. Eu intr-o incapere intunecata. In fata mea un perete mare de sticla, in care se afla o usa deschisa, tot de sticla. Misc din cap si realizez ca ma aflu in camera de camin. Usa din sticla este deschisa si plictisita ma dau jos din pat pentru a o inchide. Trag de ea, si inainte sa o incui ma uit la luna atat de alba si mare care este pe cer.&amp;nbsp; Ma bucur ca am primit camera cu peretele din sticla, pentru ca am parte de imagini spectaculoase in fiecare noapte. Zambesc si&amp;nbsp; intorc cheia in usa. Un nor mare si negru acopera luna si coborandu-mi privirea de la ea, realizez ca in fata mea se misca o silueta. In franturile de lumina pe care le mai scapa luna, reusesc sa vad chipul ce se apropie de peretele de sticla si ma sperie fata lui atat de nervoasa. Ma indepartez de usa, fara a-mi muta privirea si inima incepe sa imi bata cu putere cand silueta se apleaca pentru a lua o piatra din alee. Incep sa tremur fara a ma mai putea controla si lacrimi isi fac loc in ochi. Omul isi ridica mana si ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Deschid ochii si incerc sa ii pastrez fixati asupra unui punct de'al patului, insa nu reusesc. Ma dor atat de tare pleoapele incat inchid ochii si  fara sa imi dau seama ma regasesc in intunericul de dinaintea incercarii  mele esuate de a ma trezi. Inima inca imi bate cu putere si simt o lacrima care se prelinge pe obraz. Inca mai am intiparit in minte chipul nervos si ma sperie gandul ca as putea adormi si m-as trezi in aceasi camera lipsita de aparare. Vad peretele din sticla si caut rapid in memorie un geam antiglont ce m-ar putea salva. Il inlocuiesc rapid. Incep sa imi imaginez cum silueta din vis arunca piatra... ba nu, are un pistol in mana. Ma uit la chipul nervos si la lumina lunii observ ceva stralucitor in mana lui. Un pistol. Ridica mana si indreapta pistolul spre mine. Inima imi bate cu putere si tremurand il fixez cu privirea. Trage. Din reflex am inchis ochii. Imi este frica sa ii deschid si ma intreb cum as putea sa imi dau seama daca am fost impuscata. Mai aud o impuscatura si deschid un ochi pentru a vedea ce se intampla. Impuscaturile vin una dupa alta, insa eu nu patesc nimic.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lumina isi face loc printre jaluzele, si in spatele lor, intr-un pat de camin, o fata zambeste stiind ca este protejata de un geam anti-glont&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-37908671776705373?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/37908671776705373/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/geam.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/37908671776705373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/37908671776705373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/geam.html' title='Geam!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5761230500390057904</id><published>2011-01-13T10:00:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T14:37:57.442+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><title type='text'>Cuget...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Sa traiesti 100 de ani, fara sa incalci vreo regula sau sa mori tanar, stiind ca ai incercat sa faci tot ce ai putut pentru a schimba ceva in viata ta? Ma intreb ce ar putea inlocui un an din viata… Un sarut patimas, o privire induiosatoare, o atingere de mana? Pentru ce as fi de acord sa imi dau ani de viata? La ce folos sa traiesti o iubire ca-n povesti, daca asta presupune o moarte prematura? Auzim intr-una sa nu ne lasam doborati de niste cuvinte dure, de niste raspunsuri negative, de niste priviri pline de repros, insa de ce nu se gandeste nimeni la daunele pe care le provoaca? Si acum imi suna in urechi primul ras ironic si prima gluma taioasa. Eram doar un copil, insa acele vorbe au fost precum o palma aspra si dureroasa. Cum sa ai parte de o poveste de dragoste, daca nu poti trece de frica inselaciunii? Cum poti sa crezi niste simple cuvinte, cand stii ca acele cuvinte se pot preschimba in cateva secunde in niste cutite ce ating cel mai de pret lucru pe care il ai. Se spune ca gesturile conteaza, insa cuvintele sunt primele lucruri pe care nu le poti retrage si pot rani mai tare decat orice lovitura. Si totusi, as da cativa ani din viata pentru a simti fluturi in stomac si pentru a ma trezi dimineata stiind ca cineva se uita la mine cum dorm. As da ani din viata pentru o mangaiere plina de caldura si cele doua cuvinte simple...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Cand stii ca esti cu adevarat fericit? Sau de ce nu pot fi fericita doar asa? De ce caut povesti de dragoste si astept printi frumosi care sa ma salveze? De ce imi este prea frica sa sufar si totusi ma uit in departari sperand ca va veni ceva mai bun? Cand stii ca esti cu adevarat fericit? Sau linistea este tot ce a mai ramas? Ranim fara sa ne dam seama, suferim la gandul ca am facut rau, insa ne trezim si trecem mai departe. De cate ori ne-am cerut scuze? De cate ori am fost iertati? Viata este atat de scurta si totusi ne tinem atat de strans de ea. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO" style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Viata este scurta cand o traiesti... Cand stii ca ai facut ceva cu ea? Cand afli ca nu ai trait degeaba? Lasi o mana de oameni care isi vor aduce aminte de tine, insa apoi incepi sa te estompezi cu trecerea timpului. Aristotel si Platon sunt facuti pentru o eternitate, dar noi ceilalti? Cu coatele roase de timp ne uitam in oglinda si ne intrebam ce ramane din noi? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5761230500390057904?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5761230500390057904/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/cuget.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5761230500390057904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5761230500390057904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/cuget.html' title='Cuget...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-6188452331944148360</id><published>2011-01-12T11:31:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T11:27:47.148+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><title type='text'>Logo de inceput...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TS10yMDWrcI/AAAAAAAAAuU/70dzIhqGu7I/s1600/new-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TS10yMDWrcI/AAAAAAAAAuU/70dzIhqGu7I/s1600/new-5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Ce parere aveti de imaginea de mai sus? Dar de imaginile de mai jos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TS11R0qvy7I/AAAAAAAAAuc/d62YerSpjEo/s1600/new-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TS11R0qvy7I/AAAAAAAAAuc/d62YerSpjEo/s1600/new-7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TS11NekkUzI/AAAAAAAAAuY/6-7qcGtlUb0/s1600/new-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TS11NekkUzI/AAAAAAAAAuY/6-7qcGtlUb0/s1600/new-8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TS2DvCzxQII/AAAAAAAAAug/61r6O-TLn7o/s1600/new-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TS2DvCzxQII/AAAAAAAAAug/61r6O-TLn7o/s1600/new-9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TTFojHzFfXI/AAAAAAAAAuo/zW40LPt6ET8/s1600/new-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TTFojHzFfXI/AAAAAAAAAuo/zW40LPt6ET8/s1600/new-10.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vreau un logo extrem de simplu pentru inceput... lucrez la ceva mai complicat, dar pana atunci parca mi-ar placea sa vad ceva Just Cata :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S : am adaugat ceva asemanator cu ce a propus "Anonim"... trebuie sa recunosc ca arata mai bine :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-6188452331944148360?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/6188452331944148360/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/logo-de-inceput.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/6188452331944148360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/6188452331944148360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/logo-de-inceput.html' title='Logo de inceput...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TS10yMDWrcI/AAAAAAAAAuU/70dzIhqGu7I/s72-c/new-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-4078912933385862693</id><published>2011-01-11T09:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T09:09:42.228+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Bianca ... Biancu ?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;  Hello - The Cat Empire   &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/darklucifer/a15923b079efb1.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=darklucifer&amp;hash=a15923b079efb1&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/darklucifer/a15923b079efb1.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=darklucifer&amp;hash=a15923b079efb1&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;m:smallfrac m:val="off"&gt;    &lt;m:dispdef&gt;    &lt;m:lmargin m:val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:rmargin m:val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"&gt;    &lt;m:wrapindent m:val="1440"&gt;    &lt;m:intlim m:val="subSup"&gt;    &lt;m:narylim m:val="undOvr"&gt;   &lt;/m:narylim&gt;&lt;/m:intlim&gt; &lt;/m:wrapindent&gt;  &lt;/m:defjc&gt;&lt;/m:rmargin&gt;&lt;/m:lmargin&gt;&lt;/m:dispdef&gt;&lt;/m:smallfrac&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;&lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/bianca-biancu.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Toate bune si frumoase&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, a doua zi de dimineata te intorci acasa si raspunzi foarte natural la intrebarile despre „Bianca” : „Da, am dormit acolo”, „Da, parintii ei sunt bine”, „Da, am luat micul dejun”, apoi iti incepi ziua multumit de cat de bine a fost inghitita galusca. Dar ce te faci cand escapada se repeta? Gandindu-te ca ulciorul e abia la a doua spalare, pui mana pe telefon si trimiti un forward al mesajului anterior catre „dusmani” . Numai ca, soarta asteapta de mult sa te muste de, scuzati expresia, fund si de partea cealalta a baricadei, citeste mesajul un anume frate. Si acest frate anume, fara sa se gandeasca macar o secunda la binele tau individual, spune „Asa se scuza si fetele care vin la mine. Intotdeauna isi gasesc cate o prietena la care se duc! Si ea s-a dus cu siguranta la "Biancu"!!!”. Ochii „dusmanului” se micsoreaza de incantare si in minte incolteste un context genial prin care sa captureze galusca pe care o sa i-o vinzi atat de nevinovat dimineata. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;Vine dimineata, cu zambetul pe buze pasesti in incapere si in necunostinta de cauza incepi sa iti turui povestea. Zambindu-ti la randul lor, fratele si „dusmanul”, te lasa sa termini. Te miri cum de sunt asa cuminti si in sinea ta iti suna o voce „Si ziceai ca nu te pricepi sa vinzi ciori vopsite! Uita-te la tine! Somebody stop u!”. Nu termina vocea sa te complimenteze, ca auzi din fata ta „Si, Biancu ce face?”. Ca un anime pierdut, ti se micsoreaza ochiul stang si se zbate necontrolat, si din spate auzi un suierat de vant si se vede o frunza ridicandu-se in aer... „Bi...Bi...ancu?”. „Da fai, tu crezi ca numai tu folosesti scuza asta?” Si rasetele demonice te inconjoara. Te uiti in stanga, in dreapta si cauti liana salvatoare, dar ca intotdeauna nu gasesti asa ceva „Pai...”. Desi acesta ar trebui sa fie momentul in care mintea ta munceste cu febrilitate la o scuza potrivita, ei bine, creierul tau este in concediu medical si cavitatea craniana este ca o mare pestera in care ecoul vocii tale zburda dintr-un colt in celalalt "Ajutor, ajutor".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt; "Draga, raspunde la intrebare! Ce face Biancu?" ... Stiti ca este vorba aia din mosi stramosi "Cuiul cui scoate"? In astfel de situatii, fara scapare, cel mai bine este sa luptati cu adevar. Deci raspunsul cel mai evident este : "Biancu face bine!", facand astfel liniste in sala si iesind cu capul la liman. Bine, exista si un efect secundar, si anume ca escapada ta nu va mai scapa in veci de numele Biancu... Insa, daca nu se afla, inseamna ca ai scapat basma curata, nu? :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;P.S : La multi ani, Bi-bianca!!! Scriindu-ti aici, ma asigur ca chiar daca uit sa te sun, scap basma curata (sper)!!&amp;nbsp; :D&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;LA MUUULTI AAAANI!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-4078912933385862693?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/4078912933385862693/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/bianca-biancu_11.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/4078912933385862693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/4078912933385862693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/bianca-biancu_11.html' title='Bianca ... Biancu ?!?!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-7316525457700435853</id><published>2011-01-10T09:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T09:26:07.367+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Note to self!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Aerosmith - Crazy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Macei/4b7dd81cd43fa2.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=Macei&amp;hash=4b7dd81cd43fa2&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Macei/4b7dd81cd43fa2.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=Macei&amp;hash=4b7dd81cd43fa2&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cand te duci sa te plimbi, sa iti cumperi ceva de mancare, la scoala sau cine stie pe unde te mai duci, incearca sa te bucuri de priveliste in liniste!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ca sa nu va las in necunonstinta de cauza, ieri mergeam spre magazin si mergand pe strada, in fata mea era un batranel. "Uite ca nu sunt singura pe drum" imi aud glasul si apoi simt cum fata imi pune un inceput de zambet., aducandu-si aminte de ultima oara cand m-am trezit singura pe drum si am inceput sa cant tare "Nu e nimeni pe drum... nu e nimeni ACUUUM...[...]" Imi sterg zambetul de pe fata cand realizez ca tocmai am vorbit singura si imi vad in continuare de drum. "Daca nu ar fi asa de multi nori, ar fi o zi chiar placuta" ma aud iar spunand in timp ce ma uit la cerul intunecat. "Hmmmm ... hmmmm" fredonez incet o melodie si apoi, de parca vocea ar incerca sa imi explice de ce a prins viata adauga,&amp;nbsp; "Daca as avea cu cine sa vorbesc la telefon...". Scutur usor din cap, ca sa imi aranjez gandurile si poate sa scap de personalitatea care imi controleaza glasul si gura, insa gura mi se deschide si spune usor "Eee, crezi ca scapi asa usor" scotand si un chitait scurt. "Supeer, acum vorbesc singura!" incerc sa preiau controlul, insa nu reusesc deoarece vocea ma calmeaza "Totusi e mai bine asa, decat cand te apuca dansatul pe strada" si de data asta si eu si ea incepem sa radem. Pun mana pe telefon, si incerc sa gasesc pe cineva cu care sa ma conversez, insa nu am noroc, toata lumea e ocupata! "Sa nu mai spuna cineva ca e vina ta! Personalitatile multipe se creaza din cauza prietenilor care nu vorbesc la telefon" si iar incep sa rad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Din fericire, la un moment dat si vocea s-a plictisit de mine si a inchis buzele, lasandu-ma sa imi vad de cumparaturi, ca sa nu se uite ciudat oamenii la mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-7316525457700435853?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/7316525457700435853/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/note-to-self.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7316525457700435853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/7316525457700435853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/note-to-self.html' title='Note to self!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-3559301439261871960</id><published>2011-01-09T00:38:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T00:38:20.391+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='informatii'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diverse'/><title type='text'>Vreau as devin actor!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Citeam 9am, ca aproape in fiecare dimineata, si mi-au cazut ochii pe articolul : "&lt;a href="http://www.9am.ro/stiri-revista-presei/LifeStar/205827/Vrei-sa-te-cunosti-pe-tine-Devino-actor.html" style="color: red;"&gt;Vrei sa te cunosti pe tine? Devino actor&lt;/a&gt;". Pare foarte&amp;nbsp; interesant cursul despre care se vorbeste aici! Un curs in care sa mai scapi de inhibitiile sociale si personale, un curs care sa te scoata pe tine la suprafata sau sa te invete cum sa iti ascunzi emotiile puternice sau chiar sa le folosesti intr-un scop maret.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Despre asta vreau sa va vorbesc, ce anume ar trebui sa faca cineva pentru a face cursuri de actor amator?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cand am venit in Brasov,&amp;nbsp; verisoara mea urma un astfel de curs (Mirela, datorita tie am ajuns sa vad prima piesa la teatru, multumesc!) si sincer, era uimitor si extrem de interesant ce imi povestea ea. Ce exercitii de dictie aveau, cat stateau la povesti si ce faceau de'a lungul cursului. Desigur, la vremea respectiva eram prea ocupata sa fiu studenta caminista, si nu m-a atras nici cat negru sub unghie. Insa..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Daca va mai aduceti aminte, in cursul anului 2010, m-am mutat in Targoviste pentru o perioada de timp. Planul maret era sa vorbesc la Teatrul Tony Bulandra pentru a ma inscrie la niste cursuri asemanatoare cu cele pe care le-a facut vara;mea. Nu mica mi-a fost mirarea cand mi s-a spus ca nu exista un asemenea program acolo. Am strans din dinti si mi-am spus pentru a 100 oara "E Targovistea, la ce sa ma astept".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hello, actori si actrite, profesori de actorie si directori de teatru, v-ati gandit ca pe langa mine mai sunt oameni care si-ar dori sa isi incerce norocul in acest domeniu? Mi-ar placea sa stiu ca ma duc de 3 ori la teatru, pentru a face exercitii de dictie, pentru a recita poezii si pentru a invata&amp;nbsp; sa ma transpus in pielea unui alt personaj. As alege cursurile de actorie in locul cursurilor de dans, pentru ca sunt sigura ca mi-ar da mai multa incredere in mine, plus ca as fi obligata sa citesc niste piese pe care poate nu le-am citit, sau as avea sansa sa interpretez personaje care mi-au placut.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Deci, sper ca si in Brasov, si in Targoviste sa vina 3 actori care sa aiba curajul sa transmita din cunostintele lor unor oameni care nu si-au ales actoria ca stil de viata, dar care ar fi niste duble (voiam sa spun multime necunoscuta :)) ) minunate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-3559301439261871960?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/3559301439261871960/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/vreau-as-devin-actor.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3559301439261871960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/3559301439261871960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/vreau-as-devin-actor.html' title='Vreau as devin actor!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-713904331274318586</id><published>2011-01-07T08:00:00.008+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T09:35:03.503+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scoala'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pact... cu diavolul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ei'/><title type='text'>Pact cu diavolul...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: small; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Ziua  in care mi-am pierdut sufletul este o zi extrem de trista pentru toata  omenirea, este o zi in care fiecare se simte trist fara a avea un motiv  bine definit, fiecare crede ca lipseste ceva in viata lui. Dar hai sa nu  sar asa peste povestea palpitanta a momentului si a motivului pentru  care am ramas fara suflet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: small; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Si uite &lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/07/pact-cu-diavolul.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;asa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; am aflat ca sunt boboc intr-o clasa cu multi baieti. Si totusi, perioada de "liceana" nu este doar perioada in care am avut cel mai mult de'a face cu baietii, ci si perioada in care mi-am incercat conditia bahica si plamanii. Alaturi de prietena cea mai buna, am cautat si gasit locuri publice si mai putin publice in care sa putem fuma si bea in liniste. Cred ca la vederea incapatanarii de care dadeam dovada cand aveam o sticla in mana, si anume nu ma lasam pana nu o terminam, Doamne Doamne l-a cautat pe Belzebut si pentru prima oara in istorie au stat de vorba. Eu, inocenta de mine, radeam cu sticla de Tanita (hai nu mai judecati, ca peste jumate dintre voi ati avut asa ceva in mana, ba' poate v-ati pupat cu sticle de Unirea sau cine stie ce licori romanesti cu nume mult prea ciudate) intr-o mana si o tigara in cealalta, in gara, sarbatorind ziua unei prietene. Trebuie sa specific ca chiuleam de la religie si ca era mult prea zi pentru a fi facut ceva legal, lasand la o parte varsta frageda.In orice caz, dupa ce am calculat ca este timpul sa ma duc la urmatoarea ora, putin ametita si foarte vesela, m-am indreptat cu repeziciune spre liceu (gara era la 5 minute de liceu).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: small; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;In curtea liceului, un "smecheras" dintr-o clasa mai mare, dupa care salivam in secret, pleca de la scoala tinandu-si de mana piesa de colectie. Ca orice "smecheras" care se respecta, in special cand e cu gagica, tipul a inceput sa faca misto de lipsa de suplete din vremea aceea. Avand in vedere ca pe langa suplete, imi lipseau si instinctul de conservare si miserupia, m-am intors catre ei si am inceput sa il injur pe respectiv ca un birjar far' de munca. Mare greseala! Desi in astfel de situatii, "smecherii" se intorc catre jigodii, eu in cazul de fata, le injura si pleaca, tipul s-a tras din stransoarea gagicii lui si s-a indreptat cu pasi repezi spre mine. Trebuie sa rescunosc ca mi-am vazut putina viata prin fata ochilor in timp ce se apropia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: small; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;S-a oprit in fata mea. As fi zis ca am stat frunte in frunte, dar trebuia sa se aplece cam mult pentru a putea fi posibilia aceasta ipoteza. Sa revin, s-a oprit in fata mea, s-a uitat cu ura la mine, m-a prins de frunte si mi-a impins capul. "Sa nu mai indraznesti sa injuri de mama, graso!". De sus, Doamne Doamne si Necuratul stateau la brat si se uitau cu atentie la mutra mea speriata, spunandu-si "asta ar trebui sa o calmeze!". Eu, am rasuflat usurata, am asteptat ca tipul sa se indeparteze bine, si luand o gura sanatoasa de aer, am urlat dupa el "BA, @#$@$%#% !!!!" si am luat-o la fuga!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: small; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Desigur, faptul ca eram cu multi baieti in clasa, s-a dovedit a fi o usurare pentru mine, deoarece desi tipul a venit sa ma caute la clasa, cred ca si-a pierdut curajul cand a vazut ca sunt inconjurata de baieti. In orice caz, atunci a fost ultima oara cand am mai amestecat alcoolul cu scoala.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: small; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: small; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;To be continued&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-713904331274318586?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/713904331274318586/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/713904331274318586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/713904331274318586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/pact-cu-diavolul.html' title='Pact cu diavolul...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2434692932082251392</id><published>2011-01-06T10:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T10:20:45.617+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Bianca ... Biancu ?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Cocorosie - Lemonade&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/aliut/e8bbaea2da8d05.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=aliut&amp;hash=e8bbaea2da8d05&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/aliut/e8bbaea2da8d05.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=aliut&amp;hash=e8bbaea2da8d05&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;m:smallfrac m:val="off"&gt;    &lt;m:dispdef&gt;    &lt;m:lmargin m:val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:rmargin m:val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"&gt;    &lt;m:wrapindent m:val="1440"&gt;    &lt;m:intlim m:val="subSup"&gt;    &lt;m:narylim m:val="undOvr"&gt;   &lt;/m:narylim&gt;&lt;/m:intlim&gt; &lt;/m:wrapindent&gt;  &lt;/m:defjc&gt;&lt;/m:rmargin&gt;&lt;/m:lmargin&gt;&lt;/m:dispdef&gt;&lt;/m:smallfrac&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;Fiecare dintre noi, si cand zic asta ma refer deoptriva la fete si la baieti, a avut o noapte cu o escapada amoroasa, pe care au vrut sa o tina deoparte de parinti, prieteni (cam dificil in cazul lor pentru ca majoritatea prietenilor sunt ca niste pradatori, care miros de departe „frica”) &amp;nbsp;si eventualii curiosi. Si cum poti face acest lucru mai bine decat invocand un prieten/o prietena pe care il/o stie toata lumea. „Hey, vezi ca diseara nu vin acasa, ma duc sa frec buha cu Ion/Vasilica”, moment in care orice curios o sa fie „Uff, nu faci si tu nimic mai interesant?”, si o sa iti intoarca fundul in semn de protest la activitatea ta evident mult prea plictisitoare pentru respectiv. Dar ce te faci cand esti prins tocmai de „dusmanii” cei mai vehementi? Si totul pentru ca un spion se afla printre ei, si nu un spion de tipul, „key hole” ci de cel mai rau tip posibil „i’ve been trough this situation, and i’ve acted like this!”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;Si dupa acest minunat preambul, in care am incercat sa va fac sa intelegeti cu ce ma lupt eu aici, sa incepem povestea. Imaginati-va o noapte frumoasa de august, calduroasa si intensa. Mai puneti si niste bancute intr-un parc si un partener de conversatie foarte agreabil. Toate ingredientele pentru o „escapada amoroasa”incep de aici. Si cand ai parte de asa ceva, cum sa te mai duci acasa, la patul tau gol, la televizorul al carui tub isi face de cap si te baga in ceata de cate ori are chef, la laptopul rece care s-a saturat de tine, la parintii care dorm, la cainele care oricum s-a asezat in locul tau si iti umple de par asternuturile tale preferate (nu ca as ura-o pt asta, asternuturile se spala)? Nu, nu te duci acasa, pui mana pe telefon si trimiti un mesaj scurt in care specifici ca esti cu „Bianca” si dormi la ea in noaptea asta!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;Va continua ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="RO"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;P.S : melodia a fost sugerata de &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;UTZU&lt;/span&gt;!! In case u don't remember her :&amp;nbsp; cititi &lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/04/pact-cu-diavolul.html" style="color: red;"&gt;aici&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2434692932082251392?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2434692932082251392/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/bianca-biancu.html#comment-form' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2434692932082251392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2434692932082251392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/bianca-biancu.html' title='Bianca ... Biancu ?!?!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-8437279997419629232</id><published>2011-01-03T12:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T12:27:23.198+02:00</updated><title type='text'>La Multi Ani, 2011! (partea a 2-a )</title><content type='html'>Citeam &lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2009/12/10987654321-la-multi-ani.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;aici&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; si incercam sa bifez cate ceva din "the list". Este trist sa vad cat de naiva este lista mea de reusite. Adica sa finalizez treburile cu facultatea prin reusita la examenul de licenta? Asta intra la capitolul "a must" nu la "things to do for the next year". Bine, sa nu fiu ipocrita si sa imi laud totusi rezultatele.&lt;br /&gt;Dupa un an de zile :&lt;br /&gt;- ma aflu iar in orasul minunat, Brasov;&lt;br /&gt;- nu am micsorat distanta, insa acum apreciem mult mai mult timpul pe care il petrecem impreuna; &lt;br /&gt;- am calatorit prin jumatate de Romania, jumatatea de sud, ca a fost mai aproape :));&lt;br /&gt;- m-am inscris la master si imi place foarte mult ce invat aici (aka, aici bifez ca mi-am luat licenta);&lt;br /&gt;- am cunoscut oameni noi;&lt;br /&gt;- am facut poze multe si am intiparit prin ele momente frumoase alaturi de cei dragi;&lt;br /&gt;- am scris multe pe blog.&lt;br /&gt;Pare o lista de intamplari atat de mica, insa in mintea mea este foarte mare. Pentru ca in mintea mea sunt conturati munti si cabanute, chipuri si trupuri, zambete si muzica, cursuri si foi goale, carti si randuri nescrise.&lt;br /&gt;Ar trebui sa fac o lista si pentru anul 2011, ca sa am ce sa bifez la anu' :&lt;br /&gt;- sa fiu integralista si sa ma inscriu pentru o bursa Erasmus/Socrates;&lt;br /&gt;- sa schimb pe o perioada rezonabila minunatul oras Brasov cu un alt minunat oras european;&lt;br /&gt;- sa nu stau o secunda locului si sa profit de timp pentru a vizita cat mai multe locatii; &lt;br /&gt;- sa ajung la mare, indiferent ca este Marea Neagra sau Adriatica.. pana si aia Moarta o accept :P; &lt;br /&gt;- cand vine ziua lui Honey, sa o sarbatorim in Cluj, Timisoara si pe Transfagarasan, asa cum a spus!;&lt;br /&gt;- sa ma bucur de paharul de bere de la Aneli, ca si pana acum, si sa nu ma mai cert cu batrani din parcari obscure;&lt;br /&gt;- sa reusesc sa dau cel putin atat de mult cat primesc;&lt;br /&gt;- sa ma bucur in loc sa fiu trista; &lt;br /&gt;- sa am ce sa scriu pe blog :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S : imi mai doresc si o casa, o masina si un cont baban in banca, insa cum nu am cumparat inca biletul la loto, las dorinta asta pentru momentul oportun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-8437279997419629232?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/8437279997419629232/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/la-multi-ani-2011-partea-2.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8437279997419629232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8437279997419629232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2011/01/la-multi-ani-2011-partea-2.html' title='La Multi Ani, 2011! (partea a 2-a )'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-1046307860254419548</id><published>2010-12-31T09:52:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T09:56:37.101+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>La Multi Ani, 2011!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Happy New Year - Nat King Cole&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Ianus22/9d4fb4a4c711ea.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=Ianus22&amp;hash=9d4fb4a4c711ea&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/Ianus22/9d4fb4a4c711ea.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=Ianus22&amp;hash=9d4fb4a4c711ea&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year, loved ones and not so loved ones ... Happy New Year known ones and not so known ones... Happy New Year stranger ones and not so stranger ones... Happy New Year to all of you! :*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="228" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TR2JuTxki1I/AAAAAAAAAtg/RgEurmaTHSA/s320/Happy-New-Year-Images1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cum nu prea am timp sa va urez toate cate mi-as dori sa va urez, pana la Anu' o sa va subliniez ca imi doresc sa fiti multumiti de anul ce tocmai a trecut si sa aveti parte de impliniri in anul ce va veni.&lt;br /&gt;Avand in vedere ca pot sa spun de cate ori vreau cuvantul "an" o sa va mai doresc si un an plin.. Un an plin de bucurii si sanatate, sentimente, muzica, poezie, cuvinte, strangeri de mana, imbratisari, sarutari... Si desigur ca doresc un an plin de "&lt;a href="http://www.just-catalina.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Just Cata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;" :D &lt;br /&gt;La Multi Ani!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TR2JxfjO6mI/AAAAAAAAAtk/2k-odHP-0Xk/s1600/Happy-New-Year-Images2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="162" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TR2JxfjO6mI/AAAAAAAAAtk/2k-odHP-0Xk/s320/Happy-New-Year-Images2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;P.S : O sa va scriu mai multe la anu' despre ce am facut anul asta, ce o sa fac la anul si alte asemenea lucruri!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;P.S.S : imaginile sunt luate de &lt;a href="http://www.11news.us/"&gt;aici&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-1046307860254419548?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/1046307860254419548/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/la-multi-ani-2011.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1046307860254419548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/1046307860254419548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/la-multi-ani-2011.html' title='La Multi Ani, 2011!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TR2JuTxki1I/AAAAAAAAAtg/RgEurmaTHSA/s72-c/Happy-New-Year-Images1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-759610449591718027</id><published>2010-12-22T08:00:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T08:00:03.636+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poezie'/><title type='text'>Cheia - Adrian Paunescu</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Mari poeti, de-a lungul vremii, au asemanat femeia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Cu o floare, cu un soare, c-o zeita, cu scanteie, cu o apa, c-o papusa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Eu, cum nu-s poet prea mare, zic ca seamana c-o usa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Usa catre fericire, usa catre mangaiere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Usa ce spre taine duce galopand... luna de miere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Usa catre inrobire, usa jugului etern&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Usa care-ti deschide perspectiva spre infern.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;De, dar ca s-ajungi sa intri, e-o problema delicata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Fiindca mai intai de toate, usa trebuie descuiata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Si treaba se face bine si devine fericita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Nu cu cheia la-ntimplare, ci cu cheia potrivita,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Cheia ei originala, orice usa-n lumea asta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Dupa nunta si traditie are cheia ei si... basta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Dar de iei un gen de usa, simpla, dubla sau de tei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Si-ai sa vezi ca merg la dinsa doua sau mai multe chei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Stai, n-o sparge cu toporul, nu tipa, nu fa scandal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ia-ti mai bine portofelul si te du la tribunal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ca sa-ti iei o alta usa, liber trebuie sa fii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Si-asta costa, dupa leafa, de la 3 la 7 mii!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Cand alegi o usa noua, trebuie s-o faci cu arta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Sa n-aiba, Doamne fereste, broasca defecta, sparta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ca broasca atat e buna pana n-a scapat la chei,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ca pe urma n-o mai fereci, nici cu doua nici cu trei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;E asemeni cu ulciorul, care dus prea des la apa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Te trezesti ca-i sare smaltul, ori se sparge, ori se crapa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Usa este ca gaina, ca abia cand e batrana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Mai matura si mai coapta, face supa cea mai buna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Da, dar care om in viata nu si-a spus in gandul lui:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;"Da-o dracului de supa, vreau un piciorus de pui"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Usa este ca un loto, zice pustiului un tata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Nu e nici o diferenta - dai un ban mai tragi odata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;insa,dragul tatii, afla, nu tine cat vesnicia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ca exagerand cu joaca, ti se strica jucaria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Am vazut o usa care a trait in viata toata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ca o sfanta cuvioasa, si-a murit nedescuiata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;A urlat la dansa cerul,cu o voce ca de crai:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Hei, stafie ingalbenita, poate vrei sa intri-n rai?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Mars la iad, acolo-i locul pentru-o scandura uscata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ai trait degeaba-n lume si-ai ramas tot incuiata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ce te temi mereu de usa! o sa-mi spuneti cu temei!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Habar n-am: Bun! Perfect!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Aveti dreptate, sa vorbim atunci de chei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Fiindca principalu-n lume, nu e gandul, nici ideea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Nu e focul si nici roata, principalul este cheia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Si exista chei... O groaza, cati barbati, atatea chei,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ca de cind e lumea lume, cheile le tin la ei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Unele sint lungi si groase, sau subtiri ca un siret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Altele mici, delicate, ce deschid si un fiset.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Principalul nu-i marimea, important - la orice usa -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;E sa se lovesca cheia si sa fie... jucausa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Sa nu se-ndoaie-n broasca si sa tina la-nvartit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Chei de lacate, valize, de casete, frigidere,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;De camari, de manastire, pivnite sau sifoniere,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Ar mai fi cheia franceza, cheia la casa de bani,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Cheia de la TURNUL LONDREI sau facuta de tigani,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Dara, ce te faci amice, ca din sute de modele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Tu te chinui toata viata cu o cheie de... sardele!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Merge ea cat merge bine, dar apoi prinde rugina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Si-atunci nici&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Gerovitalul n-o mai scoate la lumina!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Poti sa-i dai cu glaspapirul, smirghel, pile, ciocolata,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Tot ce-ncerci este zadarnic, ti-a iesit din uz si gata!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Geaba-ncerci, geaba te zbuciumi si degeaba-ti iesi din fire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Nu te mai vaita la lume, nu e vina nimanui,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Leaga-o cu-n siret sau funda, fa-i un nod si pune-o-n cui!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Sunt atitea chei pe lume, cheia "sol " si cheia " FA ",&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Dar asta nu te-ncalzeste daca n-ai tu cheia ta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Si... zicind cum zic batranii... la o tinerete noua,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Zici... privindu-ti... amintirea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;"AH, DE-AS FI AVUT EU DOUA! "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-759610449591718027?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/759610449591718027/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/cheia-adrian-paunescu.html#comment-form' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/759610449591718027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/759610449591718027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/cheia-adrian-paunescu.html' title='Cheia - Adrian Paunescu'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-6488931539229894155</id><published>2010-12-21T21:38:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T21:38:29.302+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diverse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='munca'/><title type='text'>Alt interviu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ce mai ninge.. Sau stai sa ma corectez : ce a mai nins! Iarna nu a stat prea mult pe ganduri si s-a hotarat sa ne umple pe toti de respect, cu multa zapada. Si frig!&amp;nbsp;Avand in vedere ca nu ma aflu tocmai in mediul meu (sa ne aducem aminte ca vara este anotimpul in care ma regasesc cu totul), cu venirea iernii am ramas in pana de drumuri si de idei. Si totusi, asta nu ma impiedica sa mai scriu din cand in cand pe aici :P.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ultima intamplare? Ce ar fi sa scriu despre cel mai recent interviu la care am fost. Ei bine, nu a fost chiar interviu, dar atat timp cat a implicat obtinerea unui loc de munca, pot incadra acea intalnire ca interviu. Joi dimineata, m-am trezit ca de obicei destul de devreme si ca niciodata , in loc sa imi fac dus si sa fac cine stie ce pentru scoala, m-am proptit mai bine in pat si am inceput sa ma uit la seriale. Cand deodata, imi bate cineva in "poarta". Sor'mea apare toata un zambet spunandu-mi ca mi-a facut rost de un interviu. Aproape ca mi-a picat laptopul din brate, dar pentru ca este "pretiosul" meu, am reusit sa ma abtin si sa ma limitez la o imbratisare calduroasa fata de sor'mea. Si uite asa, imbracata la tol festiv (mai exact, ce imi ramasese curat, deoarece se apropia venirea acasa si am lasat maldarul de toale murdare sa se mareasca), cu cateva cv-uri in mapa, m-am trezit in fata locatiei unde aveam "interviul".&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sediul unei reviste cu iz turistic cu o nota religioasa. Am fost invitata sa iau un loc si mi s-au explicat posibilele activitati pe care le-as avea de indeplinit in cadrul firmei :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Sa fac site-ul firmei. Pas, nu ma pricep la asa ceva.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Sa iau interviuri. Hmmm... Nu stiu daca ma pricep la asa ceva, dar suna interesant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Sa primesc carti si articole si sa fac rezumate... Eu zic ca ma pricep, dar nu stiu daca va si place :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Sa distribui revista. :| No thaaanks!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In orice caz. Am primit un numar al revistei, pentru a vedea cum arata. Revista jumatate turistica, jumatate religioasa. Ma intreaba domnu' daca sunt catolica sau pocaita. Apoi imi da niste cuvinte sa compun texte, lucru ce imi trezeste destul de mult interesul. Plus "imbracarea" unor poezii cu imagini. Toate bune si frumoase, pana cand vine si ultima intrebare :&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Ce faci seara inainte de somn?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu, dupa tema religioasa a intalnirii, ma uit la domnul respectiv cu o spranceana ridicata si il intreb "D-voastra ma intrebati daca imi fac rugaciunea de seara?" :|&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dansul, destul de surprins, ridica la randu-i o spranceana si ma intreaba "Faci rugaciunea de seara?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Nu!", desi uneori chiar o mai fac :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;La care domnul adauga "Bine domnisoara, dar totusi, inainte de somn, va uitati la un film, cititi o carte?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cand realizez ca de fapt il interesa ce fac in timpul liber, ii raspund ca mai citesc din cand in cand o carte. Si ies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Timp de 15 minute am ras intr-una, gandindu-ma la cat de idioata sunt. Imi veneau in minte doar cuvintele "D-voastra ma intrebati daca imi fac rugaciunea de seara" si incepeam sa rad iar. Si ma intreb de ce nu ma angajez? :)))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-6488931539229894155?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/6488931539229894155/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/alt-interviu.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/6488931539229894155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/6488931539229894155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/alt-interviu.html' title='Alt interviu...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2877128969253008112</id><published>2010-12-21T19:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T19:22:32.298+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='videoclip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Tablou de iarna ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lDoRwRLlc3s?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ro_RO"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lDoRwRLlc3s?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ro_RO" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pic... Pic... Pic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Picaturile de la gura robinetului cad pe metalul rece al chiuvetei si scot acest pic enervant, dar nu mai ai puterea sa te ridici pentru a inchide mai bine apa. Parca sunetele lor intregesc tabloul unei nopti de iarna, pe care il formeaza decorul in care te afli. Singura lumina vine de la felinarul din fata geamului si da un aspect sumbru intregii incaperi. Galeria atarna de un cui si perdeaua e pe jumatate cazuta pe fotoliul de langa geam. Scaunele de la masa sunt aruncate prin camera si masa este intoarsa si schioapa. Piciorul lipsa l-ai folosit pentru a sparge geamurile bibliotecii si farfuriile odata aranjate ordonat, iar acum se afla singur pe hol. Covorul este plin de cioburi si de foi rupte din cartile atat de pretioase. In urma cu cateva momente sfasiai cu sete cartea preferata si ceva s-a rupt in tine. Te-ai uitat la titlul din coltul paginii pe care o tineai strans in mana si ... lacrimile si-au facut loc in ochii tai. Strangand cartea la piept, ai inceput sa gemi ca un copil pierdut si uitandu-te in jurul tau te-ai simtit deoadata mult prea grea pentru a sta in picioare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu mai poti privi incaperea si ridici ochii catre geam. Prin bucata neacoperita de draperie se vede ninsoarea deasa. Ce fericita erai cand a inceput sa ninga... Si acum? Ca si cioburile ce te inconjoara, sufletul tau este spart si bucatile ramase iti zgarie intestinele si gatul si ochii si creierul. Inchizi ochii si te rogi ca intunericul sa se extinda si sa te infasoare usor, dar stii prea bine ca nu se va intampla nimic. La fel ca picaturile de apa, durerea este constanta si frigul te cuprinde din interior.&lt;br /&gt;Pic... Pic... Pic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2877128969253008112?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2877128969253008112/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/tablou-de-iarna.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2877128969253008112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2877128969253008112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/tablou-de-iarna.html' title='Tablou de iarna ...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-171640061519390656</id><published>2010-12-18T16:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-18T16:17:11.970+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='videoclip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>I look to you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Pze_mdbOK8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ro_RO"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Pze_mdbOK8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ro_RO" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Fiecare dintre noi are pe cineva ridicat pe un piedestal ce pare de neatins la care ne uitam cu admiratie, spunandu-ne in fiecare zi ca vom ajunge la acelasi nivel odata si'odata. Ascultam cu nesat fiecare vorba pe care o scoate si privim &amp;nbsp;atenti fiecare gest pe care il face. Plangem cand ei plang, radem cand sunt fericiti si incercam sa ne apropiem cat mai mult de ei. Nu sa ii copiem, doar sa ajungem la fel de buni ca ei, sau mai bine, sa reusim sa ii intrecem, sa fim apreciati de ei si sa primim vorbe pline de lauda din partea lor. Ca este vorba de mama sau tata, de un profesor, de un actor, ei ne ajuta sa devenim ceea ce suntem. Spunea cineva ca un om naste &amp;nbsp;o idee, eu cred ca mai multi oameni nasc o personalitate.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Oameni demni de urmat? O mama care isi priveste cu dragoste burtica in care creste o noua faptura; un tata care isi ridica baietelul de jos, il sterge de praf si razand incearca sa il invete din nou sa mearga; o bunica in ale carei brate se afla tanara adolescenta fugita de acasa; un bunic ce tine bicicleta nepotului si ii da drumul pentru a se obisnui sa mearga singur; un om de afaceri care se intoarce din calatorie si isi saruta pe frunte copilul si pe buze sotia si este fericit ca ii are alaturi; un doctor care iese zambind din operatie, isi scoate manusile si anunta familia de reusita operatiei; un profesor care da aprobator din cap vazand reusitele unui elev de-al sau; un om care se apropie de fata ce plange si o intreaba daca o poate ajuta cu ceva.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I look to you ... and hope you are the one to make me smile!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-171640061519390656?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/171640061519390656/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-look-to-you.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/171640061519390656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/171640061519390656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-look-to-you.html' title='I look to you...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5334982698583548593</id><published>2010-12-17T00:49:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T10:31:30.943+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Spirit de iarna ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;bobby ryddel - jingle bell rock&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/lucidespa/8fbdaa0b2f602c.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=lucidespa&amp;hash=8fbdaa0b2f602c&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/lucidespa/8fbdaa0b2f602c.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=lucidespa&amp;hash=8fbdaa0b2f602c&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQqXSCuj2bI/AAAAAAAAAtM/sQalXs6zzAE/s1600/iarna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQqXSCuj2bI/AAAAAAAAAtM/sQalXs6zzAE/s320/iarna.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;i&gt;Iarna si-a intrat in drepturi si ca atare totul in jur este alb. Merg pe strada si fulgi mari de zapada imi cad pe nas, iar pe langa mine trec oameni grabiti catre cine stie ce locuri ascunse si bine incalzite. Mai sunt si copii ce se alearga prin zapada si razand fac bulgari firavi pe care nu reusesc sa ii arunce indeajuns de departe. Zambind, admir privelistea de deasupra caselor, marele "Brasov" ce se uita nepasator la schimbarea decorului si norii pufosi care trec pe langa soarele slab de amiaza. As putea sta aici o vesnicie, daca frigul nu mi-ar imbujora obrajii si nu mi-ar sageta urechile. Imi vad in continuare de drum si imi promit sa cumpar o caciula. Curand! Ajung in Piata Sfatului si bradul falnic din centru asteapta nerabdator lasarea serii pentru a putea lumina toata piata. Scena de langa este ridicata, semn ca vor veni curand colindatorii, iar sunetele linistite ale colindelor vor incalzi cu siguranta urechile inghetate ale ascultatorilor.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu imi place iarna. De ce? Pentru ca este frig si trebuie sa ne imbracam cu o gramada de haine. Pentru ca zapada atat de alba si frumoasa se murdareste, iar de cele mai multe ori ajunge o masa apoasa neagra. Pentru ca zapada "floscaita", din cauza frigului, se transforma in gheata si ingreuneaza astfel mersul pe jos sau cu masina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Insa... imi place iarna. Pentru fulgii mari de zapada ai primei ninsori si sentimentul de fericire pe care il ai in momentul in care iesi afara si scoti limba pentru a ti se topi cativa pe ea. Pentru invelisul alb ce acopera pamantul innegrit de vreme, si puritatea pe care ti-o inspira privelistea. Pentru bradul de Craciun, luminat cu mii de culori si cadourile Mosului. Pentru cumpana dintre anii si mesajele de la prieteni.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Si totusi... imi place iarna!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5334982698583548593?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5334982698583548593/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/spirit-de-iarna.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5334982698583548593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5334982698583548593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/spirit-de-iarna.html' title='Spirit de iarna ...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQqXSCuj2bI/AAAAAAAAAtM/sQalXs6zzAE/s72-c/iarna.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-8013544587007014909</id><published>2010-12-12T09:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T09:10:33.415+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Te-as canta!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Smiley si Moga-De-ai fi un cantec&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/clau1994/b09ecd56a92622.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=clau1994&amp;hash=b09ecd56a92622&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/clau1994/b09ecd56a92622.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=clau1994&amp;hash=b09ecd56a92622&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;De-ai  fi un cantec... probabil l-as inregistra de la radio, l-as downloada de  pe net, l-as cumpara din magazin... si l-as asculta intr-una! :D ... Si dupa ce as invata versurile si ritmul, te-as canta ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-8013544587007014909?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/8013544587007014909/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/te-as-canta.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8013544587007014909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/8013544587007014909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/te-as-canta.html' title='Te-as canta!'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-6770846468997089728</id><published>2010-12-11T13:37:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T13:45:11.601+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rahat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>rahat = noroc?</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ryan Star - Brand New Day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/silentbody/3e6c5879aa244e.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=silentbody&amp;hash=3e6c5879aa244e&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/silentbody/3e6c5879aa244e.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=silentbody&amp;hash=3e6c5879aa244e&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Situatia 1&lt;/b&gt; : Tocmai ce s-au terminat orele de curs si toata gasca de la scoala va indreptati entuziasmati catre parc. Vorbiti, radeti si va bucurati ca ati mai terminat o zi de scoala. Intrati in parc si deoadata iti pica ceva in cap. Toti se opresc si se uita la tine blocati. Tu, tematoare, ridici mana si atingi portiunea de par in care este&amp;nbsp; chestia aia si simti cum se lipeste de degete ceva moale si caldut. Iti retragi mana din par, o aduci in fata ochilor si nu mica iti este mirarea cand realizezi ca tocmai ti s-a gainatat o pasare in cap. In jurul tau, colegii incep sa rada isteric, tinandu-se de burta, ba chiar tavalindu-se pe jos. Tu dezgustata te uiti cand la mana, cand la ei. Cineva iti pune mana pe umar si iti spune cu un zambet ironic "Stai linistita, orice rahat aduce noroc!". Filmul se intrerupe, sunetul se stinge cu un scartait ca al unei masini care a derapat si tu urland iti duci mainile la cap "Deeee ceee eeeeuuuuuuu??".&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Situatia 2&lt;/b&gt; : Esti cu el de cateva luni, si esti fericita ca tocmai ce ai primit primul cadou. Cadou pe care nu ti l-a facut cu o ocazie speciala, ci doar asa "pentru ca meriti". O pereche de papuci de toata frumuestea. Il tii de mana si realizezi ca atunci cand esti cu el, parca plutesti. Il saruti si te pierzi in privirea lui. Atat de adanc te pierzi, ca nu te mai uiti pe unde calci si simti o chestie calduta pe un picior. So much for the floating part! Te uiti scarbita la rahatul de caine pe care l-ai acostat de pe drum si apoi la iubitul tau a carui mana nu o mai tii. El probabil ca nu stie cum sa reactioneze, dar sangele care ii curge din buze si lacrimile din ochi, dau o mica impresie ca se abtine din rasputeri de la un ras extrem de nesimtit. Te uiti dezgustata cand la picior, cand la el. Nu stii cum, el isi gaseste totusi curaj sa iti te bata pe umar si sa iti spuna "Stai linistita, orice rahat aduce noroc!". Filmul se intrerupe, sunetul se stinge cu un scartait ca al unei masini  care a derapat si tu urland iti duci mainile la cap "Deeee ceee  eeeeuuuuuuu??".&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Situatia 3&lt;/b&gt; : Mergi singura spre casa. Ai avut o zi groaznica si ofetzi greu la gandul ca mai e cale lunga pana la sfarsitul zilei. Nu te uiti pe unde merge si te impiedici de o piatra. Te ridici nervoasa si incepi sa sari ca o descreierata pe drum. Si pana la urma te calmezi. Iti ridici mainile pentru a-ti prinde parul si incepi sa simti un iz de balegar. Te uiti pe maini, pe bluza, pe pantaloni si mai ridici o data mainile. Pe cot, este o bucata mare de rahat de cal. Cu lacrimi in ochi te uiti la cot, te uiti la balegar si apoi iti ridici privirea spre cer. Ti se pare ca Il vezi pe Dumnezeu cum rade cu ingerasii lui. Si totusi un ingeras iti sopteste in ureche "Stai linistita, orice rahat aduce noroc!". Filmul se intrerupe, sunetul se stinge cu un scartait ca al unei masini  care a derapat si tu urland iti duci mainile la cap "Deeee ceee  eeeeuuuuuuu??".&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sunt sigura ca fiecare dintre voi a trecut prin cel putin o situatie penibila ca cele de mai sus. Nu intocmai, dar destul de aproape, ca nu a fost gainat in cap, ci pe bluza, ca nu a fost rahat de caine ci de om (hei, avand in vedere cat de rare sunt budele, trebuie sa ii intelegeti si pe ei), fiecare a trecut prin vreun rahat, si fiecare a primit vesnicul "pat on the shoulder" insotit de "Stai linistita, orice rahat aduce noroc!". Acum va intreb eu pe voi : De ce? De ce fiecare rahat aduce noroc? Ce este noroc in a trebui sa infrunti cu capul sus privirile pline de amuzament ale celor care au vazut nenorocirea, sau ce e noroc in a spala rahatul altuia de pe haine??&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Va doresc o zi in care sa nu aveti noroc d'asta si sa treci pe langa rahat si nu prin el!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-6770846468997089728?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/6770846468997089728/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/rahat-noroc.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/6770846468997089728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/6770846468997089728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/rahat-noroc.html' title='rahat = noroc?'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5594588204169993387</id><published>2010-12-10T11:38:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T11:55:15.263+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poze'/><title type='text'>A venit iarna...</title><content type='html'>Ufff... Nu stiu ce sa scriu.. Asa ca las pozele sa vorbeasca pentru mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Din pacate sunt cele mai ok poze din toate cate am facut, deoarece nu ma pricep la poze pe intuneric. O sa trebuiasca sa invat si asta, nu? Am fost cu colegii in Poiana Brasov si ne-am plimbat prin zapada. Frumos loc. Frumoasa priveliste. Frumoasa zapada. Si cred ca totul se datora acelui alb extrem care ne inconjura. Nu floscaiala care inghitise orasul, ci un alb pur.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ce sa mai, o zi frumoasa si sa speram ca imi vine inspiratia curand!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHwrOROPuI/AAAAAAAAAsk/SJU61EBM2iY/s320/DSCF1035.JPG" width="240" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHwvQ4NQHI/AAAAAAAAAso/2biywHzMnIE/s1600/DSCF1087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHwvQ4NQHI/AAAAAAAAAso/2biywHzMnIE/s320/DSCF1087.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHw0ouTWPI/AAAAAAAAAss/1dm82QB-984/s1600/DSCF1097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHw0ouTWPI/AAAAAAAAAss/1dm82QB-984/s320/DSCF1097.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHw5kEi7KI/AAAAAAAAAsw/EfV--5vTeBs/s1600/DSCF1127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHw5kEi7KI/AAAAAAAAAsw/EfV--5vTeBs/s320/DSCF1127.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHw-ty9KoI/AAAAAAAAAs0/AG0mzqo7dzs/s1600/DSCF1168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHw-ty9KoI/AAAAAAAAAs0/AG0mzqo7dzs/s320/DSCF1168.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHxER2FKtI/AAAAAAAAAs4/9cZ_ElQ_0T4/s1600/DSCF1203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHxER2FKtI/AAAAAAAAAs4/9cZ_ElQ_0T4/s320/DSCF1203.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHxJ6zIx2I/AAAAAAAAAs8/tXr0cyOE8ZY/s1600/DSCF1218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHxJ6zIx2I/AAAAAAAAAs8/tXr0cyOE8ZY/s320/DSCF1218.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHxPALDBsI/AAAAAAAAAtA/RJ72wIYq0Yg/s1600/DSCF1235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHxPALDBsI/AAAAAAAAAtA/RJ72wIYq0Yg/s320/DSCF1235.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5594588204169993387?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5594588204169993387/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/master-venit-iarna.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5594588204169993387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5594588204169993387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/master-venit-iarna.html' title='A venit iarna...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TQHwrOROPuI/AAAAAAAAAsk/SJU61EBM2iY/s72-c/DSCF1035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-2535085813779352467</id><published>2010-12-05T10:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T10:15:32.081+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Zambetul si vocea...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;13 Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm - Crash Test Dummies&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/morph3o/093d3e84ec13c5.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=morph3o&amp;hash=093d3e84ec13c5&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/morph3o/093d3e84ec13c5.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=morph3o&amp;hash=093d3e84ec13c5&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu mai suntem la fel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma uit in urma si imi aduc aminte de fetita care se uita incruntata in cadrul camerei de filmat, doar pentru a rade cateva secunde mai tarziu. Isi lua un scaun mult prea mare si il cucerea cu fiecare bucatica de care se prindea, inrosindu-se in timp ce incerca sa isi tina echilibrul; tot efortul pentru a-si merita locul in centrul adultilor, care ca niste spectatori de teatru, asteptau cuminti sa o vada la inaltimea lor, sa ii auda glasciorul. Ii admirau zambetul si vocea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Apoi, a trecut timpul, au cazut frunze, s-au asternut ninsori, doar pentru a fi topite de soare, si fetita a crescut si a inceput sa isi largeasca cercul spectatorilor. Povestile s-au schimbat, zambetul de asemenea. Uneori se mai incrunta, dar totul parea a fi un nor pe un cer de vara. Scaunul tocit de eforturile unui copil, era acum o scena uitata. Daca inainte era intampinata cu aplauze, acum mai apareau cuvinte grele pe langa zambete si pietre pe langa flori. Camera de filmat nu capta zgarieturile de pe maini sau lacrimile din ochi, doar zambetul si vocea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Timpul nu a stat pe loc, si fata a inceput sa oboseasca. Nu-si mai simtea zambetul si vocea abia i se mai auzea. Florile devenisera un lux si aplauzele se auzeau in departari la un alt spectacol. Ochii tristi asteptau o ultima piatra, insa s-au priponit pe el. A fost singurul care s-a ridicat din mijlocul multimii, a luat-o in brate si a furat-o. I-a luat mainile si le-a bandajat cu grija, a luat batista si i-a sters lacrimile si i-a promis ca filmul atat de pretios va rula in continuare, dar nu va fi obligata sa il arate lumii. Fruntea fetei, pe care se formasera mici adancituri de la incruntat, s-a netezit si sufletul ei s-a usurat, ca prin minune. Pentru prima oara, a simtit ca cineva o vrea pe ea, ca nu contau doar zambetul si vocea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Timpul a trecut, ranile i s-au vindecat si fericirea a schimbat-o pe biata fata. Vocea ii era mai limpede ca in copilarie si mai clara ca in adolescenta. Zambetul formase mici riduri in jurul buzelor, insa in loc sa o imbatraneasca ii luminau fata si ii acordau o mai mare profunzime. Camera de filmat isi facuse iar loc in viata ei, insa stiind ca este el acolo, nu a bagat-o foarte mult in seama. Incepusera sa se adune iar spectatori in jurul ei. Se uita tematoare in jur, insa nu a spus nimic stiind ca el e acolo. Mai intai incet, apoi din ce in ce mai clar, aplauzele se auzeau din toate partile. Speriata a inceput sa il caute cu privirea si sa ii strige numele, dar era atat de multa lume incat nu putea sa isi dea seama pe unde e. Camera se apropia din ce in ce mai mult si in jurul ei se facea un zid si ea nu intelegea ce se intamplase. Deodata, intr-un loc indepartat i-a vazut chipul. Intristat, tinea pumnul strans si se uita cu ochii in lacrimi la ea.&amp;nbsp; Abia cand a fost prea tarziu a realizat ca el nu a facut decat sa ii aduca zambetul si vocea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Acum, ma uit la tine din umbra pe care o face multimea. Am imbatranit amandoi. Vocea imi este calma, zambetul resemnat. Cicatricile de pe maini, imi aduc aminte de ce a fost, dar nu mai dor. Picioarele imi tremura, insa am luat scaunul din tinerete. Cocosat de vina si intristat de privirea grea pe care o simti de mult timp, stai intr-un colt, in genunchi asteptand alta viata. Te-am iertat de mult, desi stiu ca tu nu te vei ierta niciodata. Ma uit la tine din umbra pe care o face multimea, deoarece cu varsta nu mai conteaza de unde arat zambetul si vocea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-2535085813779352467?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/2535085813779352467/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/zambetul-si-vocea.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2535085813779352467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/2535085813779352467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/zambetul-si-vocea.html' title='Zambetul si vocea...'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-5588253011284835232</id><published>2010-12-04T20:47:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T20:47:35.041+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Cata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Diverse</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Hoobastank-The reason&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="33" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/ita2/bd0b5ad9af050c.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=ita2&amp;hash=bd0b5ad9af050c&amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/ita2/bd0b5ad9af050c.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=ita2&amp;hash=bd0b5ad9af050c&amp;miniMode=true" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Increderea se ofera, nu se castiga!" imi spunea cineva. Nici acum nu sunt de acord cu aceasta afirmatie. Increderea o ofereai cand erai mic si nu stiai ce inseamna sa fii mintit, dezamagit si tras in piept de oameni la care nu te asteptai. Acum nu oferi decat niste faramite de incredere, care incetul cu incetul creaza baza pe care vei posta apoi bucati din ce in ce mai mari de incredere.&lt;br /&gt;Pe masura ce te maturizezi si observi rautatea si minciunile ce cresc in jurul tau, doza de incredere acordata este din ce in ce mai mica. Scriam intr-o postare anterioara ca sunt foarte putine &lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;persoane, pe lumea asta, cu adevarat bune&lt;/span&gt;,  si ca incerc sa ajung ca ele, insa nu reusesc. Ei bine unul din  motivele pentru care nu reusesc, motiv de care sunt extrem de  constienta, este lipsa asta de incredere. Intotdeauna voi pune la  indoiala cuvintele oamenilor. Si faptul ca studiez metodele si ma uit la  seriale in care sunt expusi mincinosii, nu ma ajuta sa imi intaresc  increderea in oameni. Toti psihologii astia au dreptate, copilaria defineste omul. Fiecare a cunoscut persoane pe care le aratau cu degetul pentru ca minteau prea mult, &lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;fiecare a spus cateva&lt;a href="http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/03/minti-sau-nu.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; minciuni&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; nevinovate&lt;/span&gt;, insa exista si oameni care si-au pus increderea totala in niste persoane si s-au ars foarte urat. Nu o sa spun ca eu sunt una din acele persoane, insa nici nu o sa neg ca multe probleme de incredere se datoreaza unor intamplari mai putin uzuale si mult prea urate pentru a sta sa le povestesc aici. Nu vrea sa improsc cu noroi pe nimeni. Si nu pentru ca sunt o persoana buna la suflet, ci pentru ca nu m-ar ajuta cu nimic sa spun niste cuvinte goale pe care exista o posibilitate sa nu le citeasca persoanele carora le sunt adresate. Asa ca, la ce folos?&lt;br /&gt;Acum, la 25 de ani, consider ca pentru inceput acorzi acea incredere cordiala de inceput, in care nu contesti faptele expuse si povestioarele relatate, insa nici nu te grabesti cu destainuiri. Acorzi prezumtia de nevinovatie, dar nu te grabesti sa iti pui capul in gura leului...&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi, citesc randurile de mai sus si ma intreb daca asta e gandirea unui om fericit? Pare a se indrepta mai mult catre gandirea unui om paranoic, care nu se poate debarasa de trecut, un catelus care inca isi linge ranile si maraie la orice persoana care se apropie de el. Sau ar trebui sa scriu o catea? Imi place sa cred ca nu sunt la fel de paranoica, ca dupa cele cateva "bad memories" , insa asta nu inseamna ca nu am probleme...&lt;br /&gt;Ce chestie, pot vorbi foarte usor despre multe lucruri, insa cu siguranta nu pot vorbi de lucrurile care ma deranjeaza cu adevarat. De ce asta? Ca nu am incredere in ceilalti sau ca nu am incredere in mine? Trebuie sa invat sa... ce?&lt;br /&gt;Neah... Probabil este ninsoarea de vina, sau faptul ca e sambata seara si stau sa scriu pe blog in loc sa imi iau telefonul si sa sun lumea... Poate nu am indeajuns de mult chef, sau poate am mult prea mult... Good! Mai e mult pana vine vara!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3929455383321588-5588253011284835232?l=just-catalina.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/feeds/5588253011284835232/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/diverse.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5588253011284835232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3929455383321588/posts/default/5588253011284835232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://just-catalina.blogspot.com/2010/12/diverse.html' title='Diverse'/><author><name>CaTa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13872144292302417799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qe2t8IVeAkY/TKwkt-xUfFI/AAAAAAAAAmc/cDJUZD0QaiM/S220/166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3929455383321588.post-8418824388890443467</id><published>2010-12-02T00:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T00:27:08.022+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ei'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='educativ'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>O postare diferita...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In miez de noapte si fara chef de somn, am umblat din blog in blog pana cand am dat de cel al &lt;a href="http://www.bebelusaoana.ro/" style="color: red;"&gt;Bebelusei Oana&lt;/a&gt;. Si cotrobaind cu nesat pe acolo, am gasit o postare EXTREM DE LUNGA (!!!), dar pe care nu am putut-o lasa necitita! Pentru a nu va plimba dintr-un blog in altul, o sa copiez povestea integrala din postare. Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6600cc;"&gt;“Mădălin  a fost pentru mine  tipul clasic de cocalar de Bucureşti: un ins certat cu şcoala şi cu  bunul simţ, care trăgea la fiare în sălile de sport pentru a-şi umfla  muşchii, cu o ceafă groasă pe care straturile de grăsime se revărsau  unele peste altele, plin de ghiuluri pe degete şi lanţuri de aur la gât,  îndrăgostit nebuneşte de manele. Când făcea grătarele pe balcon scotea  casetofonul pe geam şi-i dădea pe Adi Minune şi Vali Vijelie la maximum,  înnebunnidu-i pe vecini cu muzica de mahala şi cu mirosul de mici. Când m-am mutat în cartierul Militari, apartamentul mi-a fost spart  de trei ori în jumătate de an, iar o vecină mi-a şoptit că banda lui  Mădălin a fost implicată în cele trei spargeri. Cei mai mulţi vecini se  temeau de el, căci pe unii i-a bătut şi i-a tăiat cu cuţitul. În ciuda  sesizărilor la poliţie el era de neatins, iar reclamanţii se trezeau  imediat cu maşinile sau apartamentele sparte, cu copiii maltrataţi ori  nevestele hărţuite. Am înţeles că poliţia era neputincioasă în faţa lui  abia la a treia sesizare, când poliţistul de proximitate m-a luat de-o  parte şi mi-a spus să o las mai moale cu nemulţumirile dacă vreau să nu o  păţesc mai rău. Mădălin era stăpânul zonei, peştele celor mai multe  prostituate din cartier şi organizatorul celor mai multe activităţi  comune: el repartiza locurile de parcare, el stabilea cine şi când are  dreptul să joace fotbal pe terenul şcolii de vis-a-vis, el stabilea care  este temperatura optimă în apartamente şi toate reparaţiile şi  acţiunile de modernizare a blocurilor din jur depindeau în totalitate de  voinţa lui.&lt;br /&gt;După ce mi-a spart a treia oară apartamentul a trebuit în mod firesc  să-mi cumpăr altă mobilă. Întâmplarea a făcut ca în momentul descărcării  camionului cu mobilă să dau de Mădălin şi de oamenii din banda lui  chiar în faţa blocului. Făcându-mă că nu ştiu că ei mi-au spart  apartamentul şi că ei ştiu de sesizările mele la poliţie împotriva lor,  i-am rugat să mă ajute să urc mobila pe scări pâna la etajul 6,  promiţându-le că-i cinstesc pe măsură. Pe cei din banda lui i-a pufnit  imediat râsul şi mă aşteptam să reverse asupra mea o serie de  înjurături, dacă nu şi o ploaie de pumni şi lovituri. Dar Mădălin le-a  spus serios, în mod neaşteptat:&lt;br /&gt;Haideţi băieţi să-l ajutăm pe dom’  profesor.&lt;br /&gt;Odată aranjată mobila în casă, am scos o damigeană de vin de la ţară  şi nu m-am lăsat până nu i-am îmbătat. După ce vinul şi-a făcut efectul  şi limbile s-au dezlegat, au recunoscut că mi-au spart apartamentul, dar  mi-au promis că nu vor mai face acest lucru cu mine şi chiar mi-au spus  că îmi vor da înapoi o serie din lucrurile mele pe care n-au putut să  le vândă la talcioc. Tot bând şi povestind vrute şi nevrute, râzând cu  ei şi arătându-mi simpatia faţă de stilul lor de viaţă, am ajuns după  câteva ore să devenim apropiaţi. Abia ţinându-se pe picioare, Mădălin  s-a ridicat solemn şi a decretat: Dom’ profesor e de-acum fratele meu şi  trebă să spuneţi tuturor băieţilor că cine nu-l tratează ca pe fratele  meu va avea de-a face cu pumnul lui Mădălin.&lt;br /&gt;Simpatia lor faţă de mine nu a dispărut nici după ce aburii  alcoolului s-au evaporat. Zilele următoare mi-au oferit cel mai bun loc  de parcare din spatele blocului, lucru care m-a îndatorat şi m-a făcut  să-i mai invit o dată la un pahar de vin. Promisiunea lor a rămas bătută  în cuie şi deşi multe apartamente au mai spart în zonă şi chiar în  blocul nostru, de apartamentul meu nu s-au mai atins niciodată şi chiar  mi-au adus înapoi un costum, câteva cărţi şi două lenjerii furate în  spargerile anterioare. Mă salutau zgomotos cum mă vedeau şi le  răspundeam la fel, deşi mi-era jenă de vecinii care se uitau la mine cu  severitate, bănuind că m-am băgat în banda lor.&lt;br /&gt;De mai multe ori veneau la uşa mea şi-mi cereau ba o bormaşină, ba  cricul de la autoturism, ba să vorbesc la câte-o şcoală cu directorul să  nu-l exmatriculeze pe câte-un golan minor din gaşca lor. Mădălin a  devenit celebru pe plan internaţional, apărându-i poza în cea mai  cunoscută revistă americană de turism, pentru că s-a nimerit să bată la  uşa mea tocmai când aveam invitat acasă pe directorul acelei reviste  americane; povestindu-i cum l-am cunoscut şi cum m-am împrietenit cu  hoţii, jurnalistul a fost impresionat de amestecul neobişnuit dintre  “cei buni” şi “cei răi”, dintre interlopi şi universitari, făcând din  relaţia noastră subiectul unui interesant articol.&lt;br /&gt;Cu vremea întâlnirile noastre s-au rărit, iar eu am început să lucrez  mai intens la teza de doctorat despre puşcării. Într-una din vizitele  mele de documentare la penitenciarul Rahova am dat nas în nas cu  Mădălin. Fusese arestat pentru că spărsese casa liderului Partidul
