Today everyone was sleepy. After a year of second shift, now we have to be at school at 8, actually a bit earlier. All stretch, yawn, can't be bothered, fuck everything, to sleep, to sleep, perchance to dream.
Marko Bozon is blackmailing me, to cut my hair or none of picturetaking of the experiment will happen. Okay... I shaved, except below the chin, left that as second line of defence. He asked what's that, and Baki said "that's his fur strap, so his wig doesn't fly away".
In the afterrnoon scratched for the flash and went to Groš. She was already there, waiting for me. She's got new shoes, by one of the two famous local shoemakers. (... 24 words...) The rain wasn't falling, it was coming down a ladder.
The next day I did shoot the physics experiments, the daddy (i.e. Marko Bozon) didn't give me any crap, amazingly. In descriptive [geometry] we had a surprise test, okay we did it but didn't sign the papers.
Patty Hearst got kidnapped. She's the daughter or granddaughter of the character who, as the then king of yellow press [what we called pulp papers] invented american-spanish war over Cuba, which then became real.
Saturday, 9th. Still didn't shave that strap. In the evening, accidentally with cash at hand, took a kilo of black [wine] and treated ourselves. Oli Boj is getting on my balls, when she's scratching, and she frequently is, she doesn't remember, but when I once scratched 200 dinars from her, she wanted to deduce that from the 500 that the larger class picture cost. (... 35 words...)
On sunday at DC-99 finally developed the last roll of Kornians, this really dragged its time, and then took the camera to Dimče to fix it, the trigger sticks, and to take the booklet on antennae. Meanwhile she had a wad of talk with my folks. For once since october I go somewhere on a sunday afternoon, and she appears exactly then. What a miss.
Monday 11th. Our sociology class coincided with the exact time, so the professor brought a transistor [radio] and we listened to the ceremony of pronouncing the new constitution. So we had our own smaller version of the historical moment. She tried to explain the change to an extent, what's new compared to the old one, but nothing came across as clear. Nobody comprehended anything, it was so full with ultimate achievements in the theory of selfmanaged socialism, that nobody was able to imagine how will that look, how will it function and what will it mean. [wikipedia has this on 21st of february, which was perhaps the day when it was ratified by the Skupština, the process taking some time]
Went to pick her around 18, then waited until 18:30 for her to get ready. Went to the club, and there waited while we go over the raw tapes. Held the hard Jakobson (that's the name of the developer) between her legs, to warm it up. Went to my place, showed her the lamp. Then to Dom, there was a movie from FEST, then same talk shop. CD was acting the MC, micophones were crackling, she felt somewhat cold, smoking was forbidden out of the blue, let's go somewhere. (... 85 words...)
The reaction of the guy who teaches descriptive [geometry]: "some have forgotten to sign... here it is and share it however you know". Everyone got a three or a four. In the evening watched "Hamlet in basement" on second, excellent performance.
On wednesday (13th) ran all errands, got the movie tickets, bus ticket for dad (he's taking a bus somewhere?), went to buy gas (10kg bottle for the heater), messaged via Mariška that I'll pick her at 16:45 and then ran here and there, first she's at tanti, then she's at butcher's, finally find her downtown but now she can't stay, there's no time even for her to go home negotiate going out, so in the end nothing, I went to the movie and she went home. Was really pissed off. See her on saturday. Was really sad. Some damn wind blows. At least the movie was good, Zefirelli's "Romeo and Juliet", finally them looking like live people, and she the age as written. And it just sits on my general feeling that everything's plotting against us, and won't let us live.
I drove Milica to ruža, get home by 19:20, watch some match against Spain, just so that I'm current and know what they'll talk about the next day. After the match a bus finally passes by (we hear the sound eight times per hour, four lines going through our street). Shooting is heard, celebration, the bull was tipped over.
The next day, however, the torture is absent, barely anyone mentions the match, only IV4 rolled a flag down their window. Retyping the final version of my matricular paper in the afternoon.
On friday it's clear that Beštara is now on bad terms with his grandmother and there'll be no crate for saturday. I mess with the club magiš, trying to record "Jedna žena" in full length but there's none of it this time either, but I get two new things by Mlinarec, for the next album. Beautiful raw synthesizers, obviously recorded at home, too bad the recording is gone, it's all produced over on the album, not bad but doesn't have the šmek (um... hard to translate, means both the taste and the atmosphere and the I-know-how-it's-done attitude). I plan to use that in a tiny movie about good old times (today or never). To have children, young faces, flowers.
Saturday, 16th. At school it's just boring, nothing else. Waiting for the evening. It comes. I park by the disco and (get my right side wheel covers stolen during that half hour and) wait. She must be sewing something if she's so late. I stand with Dženk and a guy I know from Bralići. She finally comes. There's a crowd at the box office, but she, with her student's (see school levels) reflexes notices when Ivek opens the second window and starts selling more tickets there, so she jumps over immediately. I don't know who was playing then. The perverse drunkards drink fruit juices. Only when we get out I tell her I came by car. My hands feel somewhat dirty, so we stop by a well/pump, just two corners from Lesnina, to wash and splash a bit. (... 23 words...) The joke of the week is when a Bosnian on a train beats his kid, the passengers try to defend it, what did it do to deserve that, well he ate the tickets, so what we'll tell the conductor we saw you had it, ah fuck the conductor, on the ticket it said where I get off the train.
She said we could have met on friday. How could I have known, I just gave up, your mom is unsurfuckable. Had I asked for friday, and it came out as only until nine, I'd have gone nuts. It was until ten, she said.
Well, we stayed until half one this time. Miracle! True, she met her dad when she got in, and there was a bit of a fuss, but by the next time out that will settle.
The next day guests from Vršac, Aleksandar (whom I still considered a... nothing wise) with parents and grandfather. On top of that, the guy running the emisija on radio Novi forgets about "Jedna žena" and starts a series of Indeksi. Well do I fuck your mother. And dad became a nuisance, got nobody to drink with since new year, so now I should show the slides and that vacation movie and everything, at least I had a good reason to darken the room, she should come around 15. Mom gets the situation, and sends uncle with me to meet her halfway.
- and do you whittle it?
- just to find a place where...
- whittle as long as you can! Whitle so that it bursts all the way! I don't quite have the time for how many of them come by, just into the car and up the Breg, roll down the seat and whittle... And this one of mine says if she only knew that I got someone she'd hammer the car all over, and I say who me I'm too old for that...
We met her downtown but she didn't see it was me, thought who's this idiot honking at the pedestrian crossing, so I had to get out of the car and explain.
The old man said we must call him for the wedding. Uncle invited separately just the two of us, to come once to go up on the Breg. Who knows, perhaps first of may.
Uncle there told us how he procured stuff for holidays... Living just about tensome kilometers from the border, he'd just hop across to the next village or one behind, and make a deal with some peasant to get a lamb, at a nice price because he's not taking the skin and fleece, just clean meat. Then he goes back home, lunches, takes a nap, goes across again. Buys a bunch of cans of pekmez, jam, whatever he can find, and stuffs it into various spaces in the car, which had them a lot, being a škodilak 1000MB. He wraps the lamb into plastic foil and puts it in the bottom of a bag, then covers it with two layers of same jars with pekmez, leaves the bag on the back seat. The customs officers (hmm, customers?) look around... aha, there's a glitter under the seat... ah, pekmez. Behind the rear seats? The bag is in the way. Takes a look in the bag, ah, jam, takes the bag out and leaves it on the sidewalk, looks behind the seats, more jam... Why do you buy so much jam, he asks. Well, look at me (pats his big belly), I love the stuff... The bag goes back onto the seat, he drives home, can put the lamb on the spit the next day. Crossing the border four times was worth it.
When they were leaving, we said our farewells and snuck back into the room and just kissed a lot. Then just sat in the room, didn't even turn on the light, played the Tull (the live album that Dženk bought from Rudolf), then played the movie again (what, the kornians?) and at times were sad that we won't see each other for twelve days. Idea: to have, on our jeans back pockets, something in four words, to make sense when we walk together.
Then I returned the Jethros to Dženk and took ELP, the salad, with Giger's sleeve.
6-III-2021 - 15-V-2026