Dr. Filomena

K pisanju tega posta se spravljam že nekaj tednov. Arbitražni sporazum je kompleksna tema, o kateri so svoje mnenje prek kamerami, mikrofoni, na papirju ali na internetu izrekli že malodane vsi Slovenci. Nekateri bolj argumentirano kot drugi. Nekateri popolnoma brez argumentov in samo na podlagi svojih čustev ali političnih ambicij. Prav neverjetno je, kako lahko isto, ne predolgo besedilo, ljudje berejo na tako različne načine. Še težje razumljivo se zdi, da nekaterim utemeljenim argumentom ne uspe prodreti do zavesti sicer razumnih, bistrih in razgledanih ljudi nasprotnega mnenja. Blokada v glavi?

Nekaj je gotovo. Nihče ne ve natančno, kakšna bo rešitev, ki jo bo ponudilo arbitražno razsodišče. Vsi, ki smo prebrali arbitražni sporazum, pa vemo, v kakšnih okvirih jo bo moralo določiti. In menim, da je dani okvir za Slovenijo ugoden. Nihče od nasprotnikov sporazuma mi še ni uspel razložiti, kakšen je po njihovem mnenju neteritorialen stik Slovenije z odprtim morjem. Naj še tako tuhtam, mi ne pride na misel nobena druga možnost, da se Slovenija stika z odprtim morjem, kot da to stori s svojim morjem. Triglav se ne zdi pripravljen prepogniti katerega od svojih vrhov tako daleč proti jugu.

Staroste našega naroda, kot sta Bučar in Pahor, spoštujem. Spoštujem jih zaradi tega, kar so storili v preteklosti in ker so, kakršni so. Ampak to ne pomeni, da slepo sledim njihovim razmišljanjem. Tudi oni niso slepo sledili razmišljanju kogar koli. Prebrala in poslušala sem argumente obeh strani in glasovala po lastni presoji. Za.

Irena me je na facebooku skibicala, da sem spisala sproti izumljeni ‘recept’ za ovsene piškote, ki sem jih packala med gledanjem prve sezone nadaljevanke The Thick of It. DVDja je že pred časom podaril Adriaan, ki me je danes opozoril na bigotgate.

Če sem že natipkala, objavljam še tu:

Zmešala sem ca 100g masla in 150g rjavega sladkorja. Potem sem dodala vaniljin sladkor, pol vrečke pecilnega praška in žličko sode bikarbone, ca 250g moke in približno toliko ovsenih kosmičev (mogoče več… hotel sam, da bi se jih videlo). Vmešala dve jajci, šluk mleka. Dodala ca 100g mletih orehov in pol male vrečke rozin, ki sem jih prej namočila v rumu. V trenutku navdiha sem v maso zlila še en štamperle orehovega likerja.

Vse skupaj sem dobro pregnetla in dala počivat v hladilnik. Po pol ure sem segrela pečico in oblikovala kroglice, ki sem jih potem speštala na papir za peko. Piškoti so se pekli ca 15 minut na 180°C.

Preverjeno užitni.

There’s no place like home.

Photo by dr fil (in NYC)

Had a wonderful time at the legendary Blue Note jazz club on Saturday night. The placed was packed full and everyone could hardly wait for the band to come on the stage.

For the singer, it was a slow start. I kept thinking to myself (ok, may have commented on it out loud as well) how her voice was beautiful, the notes were all right, but there was no heart and soul in it. The piano melted my heart and the drummer made many of us tap our fingers and feet while shaking our heads rhythmically in an almost bird-like fashion. Cool.

The singer was Italian and I felt she wasn’t being sincere for the lack of a better description. I did not believe the stories she was telling and felt that these were not the words she would have used on her own. All correct, all beautiful, but empty. Until she sang in Italian. O dio mio, l’estate. She sang of summer love, its end, of snowflakes coming to soothe the pain, and I believed her. She touched my heart and gave me goose bumps. Yeah!

Even the best imitator can only hope to achieve the level of the artist they are trying to copy. But greatness comes from originality.

Just be yourself.

I’ve been here a week now and am finally getting a hang of Manhattan’s layout. Have walked around the better part of it, jogged in Central Park, discovered eggs florentine as breakfast that’ll keep you going till dinner, did some shopping, went to a live taping of a Comedy Central TV show production, attended the Bloomberg Media Summit in wonderful company where I learned quite a bit, I visited a few museums, but not enough, was surprised at how much smaller Wall Street is than I’d imagined, I admired the city from the Top of the Rock and the Brooklyn Bridge in glorious sunshine and walked in rain and wind that soaked my feet and legs. And the Broadway shows. Oh wow. Only managed to see three, each very different yet each pure joy.

The people have been wonderful. The Canadian who sat next to me in theater, the Bangladeshi lady serving breakfast, the elderly mechanical-engineer from Odessa who takes up any menial job that pays, the French retired banker who volunteers as a guide in the Carnegie Hall, the Romanian girl who sold me a handbag I probably couldn’t have lived without and absolutely had to come with a matching wallet, the Chinese in Chinatown who quoted facts on Yugoslavia for me. And yes, all the US-born Americans as well. Like the super-nice teacher working her second job at a store that’s closing down.

I feel good here. I really do.

I’m a happy camper now. In a diner next to the Late Show’s venue.

Getting closer, though 🙂

My airport is snowed in, flight delayed and all I wanted was a capuccino. Better luck next time, eh? (Hudson Hawk meets Die Hard).

OK let’s go see if they fix a better capuccino closer to the Hudson 🙂