wtf?... I need advice

I loaded my blogger "Reading list" and that was what I read:

I am following a lot of blogs! Is it some current error? Won't I be able to read blogger-friends' updates on my Blogger Dashboard any longer? Or am I just stupid and have to press some button somewhere to see your recent posts again?

bad day

The boss called yesterday morning from abroad, reprimanded me for not managing the job (Huh? Which job?) and promised to organise a meeting on Monday for a decision to be announced. I got the feeling that the decision would be my dismissal.

So I'm about to leave the so-much-hated job (or shall I say: to be fired). Whatever it is called I may be out in the streets on Monday, which is unpleasant, because the job search I started in November still hasn't yielded any positive result yet. To top it off I got in a traffic accident.

So I 'm off to try a supernew diet and wash sorrow and pity down with good ol' JD.

So much for a promising 2009.

Invitation to The Fourth Annual Brigid in the Blogosphere Poetry Slam

Feel free to copy the following to your blog and spread the word. Let poetry bless the blogosphere once again!
WHAT: A Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading

WHEN: Anytime February 2, 2009

WHERE: Your blog

WHY: To celebrate the Feast of Brigid, aka Groundhog Day

HOW: Select a poem you like - by a favorite poet or one of your own - to post February 2nd.

RSVP: If you plan to publish, feel free to leave a comment and link on this post. Last year when the call went out there was more poetry in cyberspace than I could keep track of. So, link to whoever you hear about this from and a mighty web of poetry will be spun.

Feel free to pass this invitation on to any and all bloggers.

Thank you, Reya, for beginning what is now an annual event. And
thanks to Moonroot for spreading the word. I'm in.

animal planet

"No day is so bad it can't be fixed with a nap". ~ Carrie Snow

coming home

Coming back from a holiday is never cool, because I start missing the place the moment I leave for home. The recent trip is no exception.

When the equipment was cased and the suitcase packed I went out into the sunlit courtyard to say farewell to the picturesque mountains that had served me a home for two weeks. I never had such wrench and had never been so reluctant to leave. I was watching the vault of blue skies, the might of the the tall snowy gorge, the elegance of centuries-old pinetrees and was eager to become a part of them. Unfortunately, it was not going to happen... yet.

Later that day I arrived home down and depressed, as in my mind I was still up there skiing. I could still see snow-white slopes instead of brownish city slush and smell crystal air instead of exhaust gas. I craved so much for flying back!

Monday was a blur. So was Tuesday. I feel much better now and learn to love the dirty and smelly city again. Have to be back to normal by the end of the week.

the pleasure of reading

I've recently read two wonderful novels written by New York Times bestselling authours. They are "Playing For Pizza" and "Darkfever". Both books impressed me a lot, as one of them is lovely and romantic, while another one is dark and shocking.

“Playing For Pizza” is a lovely light-hearted novel by John Grisham tells a story of a third-string quarterback Rick Dockery who screwed up at an important match and was dismissed from the National Football League. However Rick was not going to give up and made his agent to find him any team that might want him. Against enormous odds the agent eventually found such a team and Rick set off to a lovely city of Parma (Italy) to play for the Parma Panthers. There Rick fell in love with all things Italian and made a journey from an egotistical past, to a true desire and passion towards the sport he loves.

The novel is a wonderful read about building up a character, football, food and love.

I’m a fan of Italy myself. I’ve travelled there a lot and grew to love open-hearted Italians, fancy architecture, cosy villages, delicious meals and wine.

"Darkfever" in a shadowy novel that verges on the paranormal world of myths and legends and the real world, which most people are used to. It tells a tale of a perfectly ordinary twenty-first-century woman MacKayla Lane. Or so she thought…until something extraordinary happened. When her sister was murdered, leaving a single clue to her death–a cryptic message on Mac’s cell phone–Mac journeyed to Ireland in search of answers. As Mac delved deeper into the mystery of her sister’s death, her every move was shadowed by the dark, mysterious Jericho, a man with no past and only mockery for a future.

The series was called “A seductive mix of Celtic mythology and dark, sexy danger” by Chicago Tribune and that's what it is. If you like dark fantasies, you won't be dissapointed.

To me the main disadvantage of the novel is an absence of an end. The novel is over at some crusial point, and right after it comes the first chapter of the second book called "Bloodfever". "Bloodfever" ends with the first chapter of the third book "Faefever" , and a little voice in my head is saying that there'll be more 'fever" of some sort.

Anyway, the two novels are perfectly written and you'll enjoy them to the full.

down the mountain

The past two weeks were filled with extreme adventures and passion. It never occured to me that I may develop a crash on mountain skiing so fast.

The moment I slided down the mount for the first time I was hooked. It took two days to gain some paramount skills, and on the third day the cable-way lifted me to the height of 4700 metres and the adventures began.

I was so agitated and scared that had to pluck up courage for several minutes to ski down the narrow route in the teeth of the wind. There was a cliff to the left of me and a steep to the right, which left me with a metre-wide skitrack. Scary. Reckless. Wild.

I was sking down the Elbrus for almost four hours, while the descending normally takes maximum 30 minutes. The stress was immence and the next day was spent on lying around and walking.

The walk brought me to a lovely cafe at the foot of the Mount Cheget, where I met a man of my dreams. Together we stayed till the day I left. We went skiing all day and danced all night. We shared our life stories and believed we'd live forever.

It was a lovely winter romance with a man of my dreams and mountain skiing. I'm still not sure which I love most. Time will show.