July 25, 2009

Throwback mood brings us to a translation of an old lj post from 9 years ago.

The setting: back then I was spending most of my time with two of my friends (male), A and S, both slightly older than me, and both equally crazy, though in different ways.

The post:


So, S seems to be having the PMS
He’s had it for few weeks already. But I’d say yesterday was the climax.
Everything annoys us, things fall from our hands all the time, cards (money variety) get lost, corners (especially those sharp ones) rush to meet us, ramen jumps out right onto the fresh white shirt. It’s the whole carnival, let me tell you.
He also calls me, and forgets that he did. And doesn’t say anything. Or even better – at the same time that he calls me something gets dropped on the floor again, and I have to sit and listen to the clatter, boom, clang-clang, thunk, and the cascades of swearing that follow, quietly wondering how bad is the damage this time.
On this note I also banned them both from touching any knives in my kitchen. I mean it’s bad enough when I’m the one swinging them around, and with how things are, there will soon be knives flying around as well.
Besides, after the ‘A and the Melon’ incident, everyone gets the uncontrollable giggles when A even approaches the kitchen anyway.

Oh. There’s also this new strange “game” we seem to be playing. It goes a little like this: “yeah, so I’ll try to control the amount I’m smoking, but in order for me to control it you’ll be the one keeping my cigarettes” and “nooo, I won’t let you wake up before we do this time! I’ll wake up first and prove it to you!” (and he did, all complete with the ‘BOOOO!’ from behind the corner first thing in the morning)
…the problem is that it’s me who is putting this all into words. He just does it. With silent determination.

My mother:  What’s the ‘A and the Melon’ incident? Did you people eat melon from the floor? ))

Me: no, it was nothing as bad as that, but me and S still almost quietly died. The three of us were watching the tv. When suddenly A jumps up and announces “Lets eat the melon!” and stomps towards the kitchen. Me and S say “Ok, lets” and, thinking that he went to cut it, sit and wait. A did. Cut it. He cut it exactly in half, humbly picked one of the halves, a table spoon… and came back with it to his own chair. And begun eating, innocently blinking at our climbing up eyebrows and dropping jaws. In the end, because I dropped under the table in a fit of silent hysterical laughter, S had to be the one to go to the kitchen to cut the remaining half in slices. Anyway, when A walks towards the kitchen we either sit and hold our breaths to see what he’ll do or rush after him and take everything away and out of his hands… because it generally goes like this: “Slam, kwonk, thump-thump, boom-boom, shmack…(thoughtful silence for few seconds) HOW DOES THIS WORK??? …bonk.… Sh*t!! …ooohhh… Aaaa! smack.”