rain is a pain, sunset a gain Tweet

last sunset, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Fan of silly rhymes or not, know that the one above may be the quickest, most thorough definition of London weather, and I put all its seven words together by myself. I feel a publishing deal is just around the corner now.

Should I spend a single second in the coming weeks thinking of London, I want to remember the sunset, with its split fan of fat rays, and chimneys oozing clouds in yummy shades. This might have been was my first impression of the city, too.

In my absence, I hope you will enjoy the all star team taking over the blog: family, friends, and bloggers I read have agreed to write a little bit for us. Excited, not? I know I am, grinning like mad, and for two weeks—entirely OUT.

street finds: what is it with the blue pins? Tweet

credit crunch, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Not sure there's a meaning to blue pins, but I'm sure there's a come back. The last harvest on the streets of London hasn't been spectacular, but I thought I'd get it out of the way regardless, and start afresh after the holiday. I guess what you are seeing, beyond random beads and earrings is that I haven't been out and about that much lately, which makes a lot of sense—both jobs got more serious, and we've taken three trips in less than two months. Let's hope the summer will provide :)

1001 Tweet

1001, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

A place to rest. London, UK

the unexpected smile Tweet

selfridges, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Seeing that Selfridges loved my themed Flickr photo amuses me a bit. It was used to illustrate a post AGAINST the bloody yellow bag, though approving the marketing.

would I love a gp now! Tweet

There are countless ways in which Britain is the land of opportunities. Today I will address an amazing and accidental discovery of the past months: delaying one's period in order to have an pleasant holiday. Doesn't it strike you as genius? I wonder where I have lived so far. I guess on the wrong planet. Do women do this in Romania, too? Do they perhaps do this in most countries with a decent healthcare system?

Because I would've thought that playing with one's body in this manner is harmful. But I'm told I know nothing. And then I ask: Why stop at the summer holiday? Why not delay it for summer bank holidays, too, so that one enjoys best the barbecues? And how about Christmas, doesn't that benefit from a little less trouble? Surely you can think of more events and you should, because your GP is all up for it.

I'm a very odd woman, sometimes. Uninterested in lipstick chats. Unaware of medical miracles.

1000 Tweet

1000, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Black swans. London, UK

and here it is: catty the batty! Tweet

catty the batty, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

With my knack for collecting, it's amazing that I don't have a house full of cute little monsters, dolls, and other toys. I do have a collection of cats, however, much helped by efforts of others, and had to add this one. I must say I have no idea why Paperchase sells it as some sort of bat when it's a flying cat, obviously. A smiling one, too, which I simply had to had secured before flying away. Phew, I can sleep better now!

a gift not humble: my very own tumblr Tweet

my tumblr, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

I've recently started publishing my various sidebar feeds into a Tumblelog: blog posts I read, songs, videos and photos I like. To these I added my Delicious links, and there you are, they all now mix into a single, simple page, with a single feed, to be enjoyed next to what I publish here. I have reasons to believe that a lot of my frequent readers do not open the website these days and go for the feed instead, so they miss quite a lot of what I curate and collect. Not anymore, alright?

Ever since the first stamps, I've been up for collecting shininess. Internet oozes it.

where delayed tasks go Tweet

I've finally figured out today where procrastination takes certain tasks: to those days before the holiday. Now that I read the thought again, it seems to me that I must have figured this before, what with at least a holiday a year, and that second thought, my friends, with its implication that I forget something so important and obvious, is one I won't dwell upon.

In the more normal days of the year I think that delayed tasks retreat in certain evenings and weekends but no, I'm clearly not taking all into account. Beauty activities for which I'm too lazy or too cheap an arse, endless paperwork caramelised in my in-tray, e-mails lurking at the bottom of my inbox and to do lists on a host of random papers, undated.

And then, I must go and buy that new lipstick. And the awesome cat that Paperchase finally launched next to its usual, improbable monsters. I must take that photo that will illustrate that post, and must tell my family how to reach me in the coming weeks. I must get through checking bills and card statements online, then think what jewels to take in the holiday.

This is on top of work, and just the tip of the iceberg. But above all, I must remember to breathe.

Later edit: Oooh, wait, I've got A PARTNER! A sweet one, willing to run errands for me at times. Oooh!

999 Tweet

999, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Lost in landscape. London, UK

the day when everything changed Tweet

Brushing my hair in front of the mirror, big locks start coming off like charmed, leaving the skin bare and perfect underneath. I watch as my big forehead becomes even bigger and begin to feel unhappy about the remaining locks; my head looks messy. Mom and dad come in, seem unmoved, and then she says with a confident smile: I know exactly where you need to go, this shop has great wigs, you get a couple and then we style them. Dad ads: It will look great! I think: What about the meeting I'm supposed to have in a couple of hours?! But I say, with a grin, fascinated by my scalp's windows into baby skin: I'd rather be bald.

it never feels like holiday before holiday Tweet

monday mood, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

London has had glorious weather so far this year and it amuses me that it all went wrong this morning only. While most are probably hating the chill and wind and pissing heavens, I welcome it. Four days away from holiday, there is so much left to do that I'm rather grateful the sun isn't calling me outside.

A first in our holiday preparations so far, today I packed the first suitcase out of two, among many other bits and bobs. How amazing is that? And the evening before flying, we'll be having dinner out. Followed by sleeping. Unusual, but we had to try it while we're still young and may be able to change habits.

One thing I'm not is chilled. Working at my desk or pottering around the house, I feel like sitting on the windowsill and having a smoke. Lighting a cigarette on the windowsill, I feel like going back to my work, putting even more tasks on the list, crossing something else off, just keeping at it with lightning speed.

Is this how normal people behave before holiday? Have I ever been normal? Damn, must work!

998 Tweet

998, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

The crocus trail. London, UK

I create: outstairs Tweet

That's the newest linguistic invention, outstairs. Outside + downstairs. Obviously. The thing is, I needn't apply my brain to making new words. It comes up with them by itself, when I'm chilled, or in a hurry to speak (funny extremes). It's a common occurrence with me, in both English and Romanian. I also swap the first letters of two adjoining words at times. Instead of finding my voice, I seem to find my language.

a bit of romania, a bit of england Tweet

chilled sunday, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Although the Sunday is full of work related tasks and odd administrative bits, we managed to take a couple of hours for us, on the balcony. The weather was too good to let it pass by ignored. It all started with a proper Romanian bite: fresh radishes from Farmer's Market, cabanos sausages (God bless the Poles!), and a generous serving of the finest tuica (brandy, if you like).

The street was quiet, the sun perfect, and it all blended beautifully together: the following lunch, the last gardening session before holiday, and the angel on the pavement.

I couldn't help notice that the mushroom spotted the other day grew bigger, and had a sister in place already. Chris says I should remove them, but they're, I don't know, cute? And look so much like the edible kind I know...

997 Tweet

997, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Japanese garden. London, UK

the other side of the day Tweet

triple mood, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

We spent most of today at Social Media Camp London, in the lovely Wallace Space, listening, speaking, and debating. A quick walk around the block after our session, however, provided some lovely green views in the melting sun, and I'm keen to remember that there was more than professional chatter going on on a weekend day.

With so many things to do before leaving, it feels like enjoying the amazingly good weather this year is a luxury. But we're getting better and better at having things our way, with the caveat that we're so bust right now, when others are going out, that we only dream of pizza, The Sopranos, and a sleep as long as gods will allow.

996 Tweet

996, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Land of dwarfs. London, UK

snooop Tweet

snoop dogg, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Talk about having having a brand that translates to different media channels :)

995 Tweet

995, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

The Warrington. London, UK

quiet afternoon Tweet

afternoon, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Working at home I love best that I can take a look at the world around easily, soak it in over a cigarette, and go back to my laptop with renewed energy and, often, ideas better than what staring at the screen can produce. Part of it, as well, is the privilege to see my babies evolve, smell the jasmine and, hmm, spot a mushroom in the pot of the grapevine?!

994 Tweet

994, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

First signs of spring. London, UK

outdoor office Tweet

outdoor office, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

It's not an everyday event, and that's why when it happens, it still feels like a blessing: being able to take Zoey to the balcony, with a coffee and my smokes. I'm lucky to have very good eyesight, so I can still tell what's happening on that screen when the sun's as bright as today. I'm lucky to have received a second laptop battery that last more than than the original one (magical, no?). I'm also lucky to investigate my babies in a pondering break, though discovering today that the leaves of the maple are covered in aphids underneath was a tad of a cloud on the whole experience, bringing about half of an hour of pottering around it. Fingers crossed that all's well when it ends well.

one less mystery in the world Tweet

Washing dishes earlier, my hands twitching under the undecided water from the tap, I revolted silently against boilers. What I was experiencing is no rare event: perfectly hot water alternating with perfectly cold water, quickly, but not quick enough to go unnoticed. This is why showers are brief and baths—preferred. And this is why, I realised, even modern English houses still have the two taps separated: the English masochism is a more refined one. When one wants to freeze one's hands, or to boil them, one goes straight to the associated tap. Faster results and even a win for the environment.

I must say I was horrified to discover we had a boiler for heating, upon moving into the new, central, Victorian/ Edwardian flat in London. My spoiled lifetime in Bucharest taught me that only old houses and people who couldn't afford central heating had boilers. Also, boilers are dangerous, and mean motherfuckers. I remember one nearly exploding when I was 13 years old or so. My adoptive country is odd, if not backwards, when least expected. For example, the location of the boiler? In the room. The only room that could reasonably be a BEDroom. Above our heads as we sleep, in a hideous wooden cabinet of sorts, partly open. Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree?

People tell me I couldn't live somewhere less civilised—last time, on Friday, when I mentioned missing Viet Nam to a posh Chinese restaurant waiter with a husky Sinatra-like voice, who was probably born in Hong Kong and thought London was a huge and worthy upgrade. Are there no boilers in Hong Kong or Viet Nam? No separate taps? Perhaps the art of fine dining and drinking could be improved in remote places, and cultural events—doubled, but I'm at a loss imagining what I'd miss about London that isn't made with my own hands, and with my own perception.

on the verge of holiday Tweet

in a nutshell, originally uploaded by gorgeouxness.

What better to do on the verge of holiday than (ahem, procrastinate and) recall the previous one? I was fascinated in Ninh Van Bay (Viet Nam) with these tiny, tiny boats used by tiny, tiny boys as shuttles between the beach and larger boats at large in the bay, likely occupied by resort guests.

I did my best to get fascinated with anything BUT the resort: its weather (ah, the beauty of microclimats, when it rains anywhere else but where you are) and surroundings, its birds and butterflies, etc. My first encounter with what is deemed luxurious by the Western middle classes had been a shock.

Being able to serve guests pizza and Mediterranean buffets on the South China Sea coast is not what travel or civilisation should be about. Having the best potato wedges in my life in a resort in Viet Nam should not come at the expense of overlooking the amazing Vietnamese cuisine entirely. And so on.

I carried my camera everywhere, focusing a lot upon everything else, and thank God, there was plenty to see, snap, and remember. I dream of little else about our holiday in the next weeks but good local food, awesome surroundings, and escape from tourists whose height of sophistication = barbecue on the beach.

Fingers tightly crossed that The Philippines island, our home for a fortnight, will deliver manifold.

993 Tweet

993, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

The Warrington. London, UK

not so sunny now. the startup strikes back Tweet

In between the previous post and this, I've turned in a draft piece of work that will have to be reshaped into something so different next that it it counts as a new piece of work entirely. To come to this realisation we spent one hour debating, and only other tasks prevented us from making it a whole evening event. Such are the joys of the startup. Part of what makes it so heated, beyond its importance, is me not knowing how to do either job, the former, or the future.

Thinking about it afterwards, while throwing together a quick and dirty dinner (roast duck legs, roast paprika potatoes, and homemade spicy pickles) my thoughts wondered into neverland: what makes or breaks a startup? It seems to me it's not any of the usual suspects: technology, design, marketing, passion, investment, favourable market conditions, etc. It has a lot more to do with arrogance: knowing better, knowing it all.

And since I've always perceived myself as arrogant, and never as an entrepreneur, I've got to wonder whether I've got enough arrogance to press on. More often than not, not.

little things Tweet

my joys, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

The last rays of the sun heat my back as I write. Some hover flies go round and round my babies, and I can't believe I'll have all the sun of the world in less than two weeks, when our oddly scheduled holiday arrives.

I'm proud of what I leave behind because I have so much to come back to. A product design turned product implementation (in progress), a balcony fully regained in its awesomeness, yoga classes and a promising summer.

But what gets me most excited today are those tiny leaves in the photo: my first morning glory popped out, and with roses growing their first buds and a cleaner to water my wonders, I'm going away, for the first time yet, at peace.

Bonus? The smell of my skin caressed by the sun, slightly salty. The smell of weekends and holidays.

992 Tweet

992, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

The sunny side of the street. London, UK

life can be odd Tweet

I've been spending quite a few days lately washing, drying, and packing away my wardrobe from when I was size 8 to when I was size 12, recently retrieved from a closet in Bucharest. Seeing how small some of those clothes are made me remember times, long ago, when Adriana was kindly throwing them in her machine for me, and making endless jokes about their doll size. But most striking has been the thought that building that wardrobe years ago, with hard earned money and much excitement didn't seem like a job for such a distant future. From the width of my current size 14, which isn't intimidated by healthy eating and yoga practicing, I invest these cloths of the past with a prospect for happiness higher than that of my most desired designer collection. I'm not abnormal today, yet I know I won't feel exactly normal again until my tiny outfits descend off dust bags and boxes back into daily life.

holiday shopping: feet and brain supports Tweet

walking & reading, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Having decided to only travel with hand luggage has proved a challenge to prepare and will hopefully prove delightful to experience once more. We've done this before two years ago in Italy, but a lot more things are needed for 14 rather than 10 days, for South Asia rather than South Italy, for a secluded island rather than a tourist village.

Ways to deal with insects and their bites, snorkeling gear, spirits not available at destination and the likes will be trying our packing skills severely. I'm allowed two pairs of shoes, one of which is, hmm, flip-flops, and two books. Am still pondering on the size of the notebook to take, and counting the potential liquid tubes again and again.

These two were the last delivery I expected, though waking me up at 7:15 a.m. is not my best idea of starting the week. Why is it that there are only three ways with delivery here? Way to early, during work hours (neighbours may be able to help at times), and entirely missing the delivery? I will think hard about ordering big items online again, I tell you.