Filed under: get to know me better
yes-yes! the sweet post-bangladesh laura who can handle amazing quantities of espresso, hinted on a quiz i should fill in. so, if she can have cats under bed and drink poison she has stealed from VU, then i can as well as do some quizing, ay?
Maybe I should….: learn to cook and cut down on cakes.
I love…: sunshine, fairy-tales and feeding anonymous cats.
People would say that I’m…: spontaneous, cheerful and moody.
I don’t understand…: SPSS and estonian men.
When I wake up in the morning…: I jump on the bed and sing.
I lost…: my heart to a bear.
Life is full of…: small lollipops that take you to a candy buddha one day.
My past is…: colorful, yet decent.
I get annoyed when…: i am cold, it is raining all day, and of course – if there is no cake.
Parties are…: places where you have one vodka martini and then madly bounce around.
I wish…: I were a princess and had a personal wizard.
Dogs…: is the word i pronounce so bad that people thing i`m talking about ducks.
Cats…: let me hug them when i feed them worst beforehand.
Tomorrow…: i will jump over the fire, go to sauna naked and celebrate midsummer.
I have low tolerance…: for people who cant spell.
If I had a million dollars…: I would write a children book and go travelling.
I’m totally terrified…: of snakes and having to give birth one day.
Filed under: music
The last five minutes I`ve been bouncing on the bed. That is for two reasons. These reasons are dead delicious and I would trade them for all the cakes of the world for the whole April.
May 12th, Waagnatie (Antwerp) – Incognito
May 13th, Paradiso (Amsterdam) – Brand New Heavies
A year ago, I was rockin in my car while listening to “Back to Love” and going very mad. I drove around in January with open windows and smelled the summer and knopjes with delirium caused by Brand New Heavies. I waved to all the drivers next to me behind the traffic lights who looked at me with a worried face and never waved back. What I never thought was that I`d see my favourite Two in live.
Four years ago, I borrowed two Incognito records from my friend and never brought them back. One year ago, I gave the newest Incognito album to my brother for birthday and stole it within a week. I never gave it back.
I am not even sorry. And I am going to Antwerp. And Paradiso! HULL ÕUN! 
Filed under: wild life
There was a news in www.postimees.ee how a family kept a sheep in the flat.
I am very glad to hear I am not alone. Just that in my case, a sheep in the bathroom is accompanied by:
1) squirrel 2) goat 3) panda bear 4) two mice 5) rat 6) giraffe 7) three little elks and 7) a frog
It is very possible that there were more, though. It is not easy to recall the whole imaginary animal crew I am hosting in my bathroom.
Filed under: weer.nl
Today, summer dropped by. Suddenly, there was 26 degrees! Whole Amsterdam bikinicated and got drunk in parks.
To welcome Summer in a proper fashion, i lied in Vondelpark for 5 hours and burned my stomach. Then I went for another bottle of wine and lied 2 more hours on the edge of Museumplein fountain to seal the effect. There did I burn my cheeks, too.
Tomorrow I am planning to switch to Martini and lie on the real beach. As I will be accompanied by Mike who never burns but only gets unfairly tanned in a ridiculously short time, I will probably keep up the burnization as I can`t handle being significantly pale next to people I am fond of.
Besides being mocked for my beautiful “i” pronounciation (as in words like “big”, “pig” and “weed”), that unfortunate pre-summer skin trajedy might actually be the only disadvantage of being East European in here (yes, the same “i” as in “east”).
And yes, mom. I remember that my SPF is over 10 and I should do something about it but – NO! I already spent the sun lotion money on cake today. Furthermore, I will be 24 in five days and I`ve planned to start an unreasonable but intriguing and very very dangerous Adult Life!
A modern girl rather dies of skin cancer than goes unfashionable. (Coco Chanel)
Filed under: weer.nl
Today, THE season invaded Amsterdam. HULL ÕUN! Haha! It is all gorgeous and green! Ducks sink into canals (I saw one dive today and it never came back on surface)! Dogs do high fives! McDonalds staff smiles! Men stop shaving! Tourists get killed on tram roads! And you can have Martinis on the canals and not freeze to death (I`m talking drink here).
So, I went mad today because I always go mad with spring. I rolled around on the tram road. I chose for salad and not cake. I kissed and forgot myself completely.
And then I saw some adorable people from da`Veen biking home drunk. Must admit, life right now is very beautiful. I am not sure I would take a position of a cheesecake factory director if I got a chance. Though, I would take a cat, duck or rat.
(If you have any and they annoy you, please do send them here).
Filed under: travelling
I love the way my brain works. For me, thinking is orientating! I start off, do rounds, circles, turns, shortcuts and end up in the place I never planned to go but then found it absolutely awesome. It is almost like stumbling on a giant bowl of creme brulé where you can dig holes with a huge spoon (the bowl is located in ipanema beach in the middle of bossa rhythyms and next to the kingsize creme brule bowl is this awesome bottle of apple martini where you can scuba dive in but never drown).
But back to my mind. Today i had again a very adorable b(t)rain travel. It started off at Amsterdam, Holland and ended up in Belgrad, Serbia. All i wanted to go to was Utrecht, Centraal.
It all starts off very easy as usual. I am chilling in the train, place my neat little legs on the seat in front of me and eat the daily lollipop. Appears THE man to check the ticket. I look for my ticket and suddenly, it`s gone! The evil man doesn`t want to believe me and that makes me very sad. I try to convince him how my ticket is still in my bag, somewhere. The guy is continuosly uncooperative. (He is also unfortunately well-shaved and has very ugly shoes and golden wrist watch). I try everything. Blinking doesnt help, tragic tears dont help, even extra lolly does not help. The man IS one evil ticket nerd. I also have a theory of his relationshipness status based on the ill behaviour, compromiseless communication and very bad shoe style but that i do not dare to share with him. It is not my thing to tell him how he should grow a beard, get laid and start being nice to sweet people in trains.
And then, BOOM!, I see my way out! Quite non-literally, there is an EXIT sign on the door. That reminds me how 2005 was the glorious year of bad movies, break-up of two hideous boybands, and last but not least – the year of the kickass cool festival EXIT in Belgrad. That is because of Gilles Peterson who happened to do a wonderful set there and is officially the only handsome Brit in the world. (Jude Law used to be number two but now i don`t like him anymore). Anyways, there with my EXIT and mister G I start to miss Belgrad and all those groovy loop tunes. For the sake of a better picture, I close my eyes in delicious daydreaming.
What happens is the following. I dream of Belgrad, wake up in Eindhoven, take a train back to Utrecht, do some Paris-related catching-up, travel back to Amsterdam Amstel, take a tram to Amstelveen. There, i check mr Gilles` schedule and find out i might either go to Brussels in May or Rotterdam in June.
And no, i did not get a fine. Though, i got a little note. The note said how i must not fake falling asleep when i`m cheating on trains and also must I not place shoes on train seats; but – if i want to see a movie next week then there is the number.
Those conductors are all perverts! Then again, i have nothing against perverts if they save me ten euros.
Filed under: cooking
I have been a fanatic fruit freak lately. Most of my friends have been hearing quite some stories of the magic veggie called rabarber during the last week. It`s all my fault and of that, I am proud. What makes me very sad is that majority of them has never seen, hardly ever tried rabarber. Even worse, they see it rather as a weird weed than a wonderful, wonderful green thing you can make all the goodies in the world of. This is why I have now started a mission i called “All Dutch Will Love Rabarber By May”, shortly – aRRiba RabaRbeR (codename 5R).
Now, after some realistic calculations I find myself in very deep shit. I must say that in my passion of rabarber i have gone a little bit too far. Talking datewise, by 7th of April there is more than a couple of people who cannot wait to try out my magic Rabarbercake and almighty Rabarberkompott not to mention the fabulous Rabarbercookies and breathtaking Rabarbermuffins that i have boldly promised to bake. Quite miserably, that has created some wild expectations towards my cooking skills as well as Rabarber itself. What i am not afraid to loose is my chef reputation as there is none. What i AM afraid to loose is the reputation of the wonderful rabarber.
See, i have never actually tried facing rabarber in the kitchen. Moreover, i am not sure it will be happy to see me there. I see it very clear how rabarber will start rebelling right away I try transforming it by heat, oil or microline waves – just like do all the other grocieries of the world.
I have already considered sending a very, very sad letter to my mom explaining what i have got myself into. Then, according to my 1st scenario, kilos and kilos of glorious Rabarbercake will start arriving to town and everyone will love me forever. The 2nd scenario is that mother will not co-operate and i will have to get into negotiations with local bakeries. The 3rd scenario will be contacting a wizard. That will be expensive and cumbersome.
Please do not say I haven`t made an effort. All these scenarios have been developed after trying to tackle the problem personally. Yes, I have already browsed some cooking sites and realised how making that cake on my own will not be a good idea. I have also made a secret attempt and failed very miraculously. I have to face the truth. My virtues do not live in the kitchen. They live in Albert Hein take away sections and broodje cafes. I must have been in a brasserie choosing a croissant while God was handing out cooking skills.
Yet, i have an additional D-plan. In case i really fail organising rabarbercake, an extensive promotion of fresh rabarber as a very healthy and divine treat will be initiated. Oh yes – didn`t I just read some research how raw rabarber is a splendid source of countless healthy elements of Mendelejev table, helps to improve health and creative thinking, treats cold, pneumonia, hiv, cancer, conorrhea, arthrosis, low back pain, migrane and incontinence, enhances thesis writing and analytical reasoning, makes hair long and shiny, teeth sharp and ears clean even inside.
I will let you know about the mission. If nothing else, a merry raw rabarber picnic will be held in the near future. Vondelpark might see some very healthy people biting on the big R soon.
Filed under: language
Yes, yes, y e s ! You were all right, and i was wrong… mmm, slightly off the track of truth. But not far from it, oh no!
(And of course, i hope you do remember how i am never wrong. Neither do i lie or misbehave. I do twist reality sometimes, but this is an art which is long as they used to say in good old Rome. As they are all dead now, i like to believe they were right about the vita brevis part and perhaps same implies to art survival skills. Smart italians. (What has happened to them now, i`m asking, oh how did all those funky philosophers turn into cheesy short men with shiny sunglasses and tight Armani shirts, why, why, oh why?)
But what i wanted to say was that i knew how one day it would happen. Really, mom and dad, i tried to get these western folks here learn Estonian and teach them beautiful words like “häid jõule!” or “koduaiaõun” but they always tended to get lost when i started a very simple vocal grammar explanation. Others didn`t run but laughed very rude and hilarious. And then, oh, weren`t there actually some of those sweet ones who were absolutely lovely and could do ” HULL ÕUN!”. I am very proud of them and devote this blog to them. It`s not their fault that those ill-minded vikings built their leather tents into the rainiest and coldest fenno-ugric language area and freezed to death before realizing how they should actually move southwards and learn some proper language or integrate with cool celts or germans . It is also not their fault that i am one of the single million who still happens to speak the language suffering from a severe lack of grammar and consonants compensated by an overuse of vocals and cumbersome combinations of spotted letters.
Oh well, now u`ve won, my germanic, roman and celtic language group friends. My merry adventure log will translateform. English it is.
Only to make it very clear (and that i cannot change), top 10 cake descriptions might still be language scripted now and then. I must admit i`m just not just britishicated enough to write English when talking about appeltaartje, prinsessatårta, mansikkapiirakka or меренга.
Lets face it, cake gastronomy is simply not international.
