Lolers

how intelligent do you need your friends to be? my fourth attempt at finishing "the unbearable lightness of being".

2008-10-11T02:09:00.010-04:00

i failed again.

conform to this

2008-01-15T02:20:00.000-05:00

Right now we support Nick Miller.

Ky libër duhet të jetë lexim i detyruar për të gjithë Shqiptarët që kanë dëshirë të kuptojnë marëdhëniet tona me fqinjët e veriut.

refund my membership

2007-07-21T01:47:00.002-04:00

Ossei Essed of the woes is a fantastical musician and one of the better people at 1000 North 5th Avenue.

"i am a beautiful butterfly!"

2007-05-14T18:26:00.000-04:00

The latest in the series of accidents commonly referred to as "my life" have been complicated and overwhelming. There has been very little time for writing, but the world has somehow managed to survive without my literary contributions. This does not surprise me, but it vexes me greatly.

As there has been very little Albanian around these parts, I have also lost my desire to share thoughts with the world blog-wise. Because, let's face it, without the Albanian there is really nothing worth sharing. Nevertheless, I have decided to contribute my mental masturbation to the internets regularly from now on, at least on a weekly basis.

these walls are paper thin

2007-04-30T23:22:00.000-04:00

Apparently, it is possible to become stupider just by listening to someone speak.

this is not an educational institution

2007-04-26T21:39:00.000-04:00

oh...Bulgaria.

my IQ test came out negative

2007-03-10T20:48:00.001-05:00

Unless New York is robbing you of your raison d'etre, it is in your best interest to not fight its force. The city has a plan for you and it wants you to follow it. In this I feel New York is a lot like God. The difference of course being that there is no actual scripture stating this and (unlike God) New York actually exists.

Since I am a woman sans raison d'etre, it has never occurred to me to fight against anything the city throws my way. Bending like the grass under the warm summer breeze, I have spent most of my time roaming around art galleries, love-hating the Japanese and writing brilliant works of fiction. I have also learned many things about the Albanians (myself included).

New York is infested with Albanians of all kinds; pseudo-intellectuals, hard working (often successful) immigrants, eurotrash men with too much to prove, gangsta wannabes and hipsters. After years of hardly any Albanian contact, I have found myself surrounded by my people and libraries containing reading materials in Albanian(!).

I take this to mean that New York's plan is for me to continue my focus in the ever-exciting and hip field of Balkan history. Therefore, since I will be spending the next couple of months writing academic papers and taking tests, postings here will be random. Basically, nothing will change.

In unrelated news, one of my favorite women has been hard at work producing some fabulous things to improve the quality of your life.

The Bane of My Existence

2007-03-03T01:22:00.000-05:00

*update

Many years ago I told my dear friend Zach stories of growing up in a small village in the mountains of Albania. Unfortunately - since I am not good with complicated English words - I could never eloquently convey the full extent of the suffering I had to endure growing up in such a place. Fortunately (inadvertently) Neal Pollack saved the day.

The Albania of My Existence
By Neal Pollack

I've been going to bed lately on a pile of jagged stones covered only by a thin cotton blanket half-eaten by moths. This is one of the worst possible sleeping arrangements I could imagine. Sometimes I wonder how things got this way, but I have to remember that I am a journalist, novelist, radio producer and poet, and I am here in Albania to find out what life is really like for a family in the poorest country in Europe. I have personally borne witness to much human suffering. People here are beset by unwanted refugees, obscure diseases, and limited opportunities to express themselves through fashion. I must tell you: Things are not good.

We had dirt for lunch today. All 23 of us. Jumanji, the patriarch of this family, is a short, bald, armless man who looks older than his 87 years. He tells me that dirt has been of short supply in Albania lately, and he worries about his family's diet. I have tried to make our food taste better using some of the skills that I learned at the Culinary Institute of America, but with no success. My considerable abilities seem useless here; I am a Rhodes Scholar, but no one in Albania has even heard of Cambridge, much less of England.

Although this family's house has no plumbing, consistent heat source or exterior walls, they do have satellite television. I was tired today from all my reporting, so I relaxed by watching CNN's Eastern European Entertainment Minute. I saw that a good friend of mine had won a jury prize at the Sundance Film Festival, which made me think about the awards and honors I've gained in my life, the trophies, the ribbons, and the cash. In the face of this Albanian poverty and hopelessness, they all seem somehow trivial now. Do you know what I mean?

***

I wake up early this morning and watch the village children play soccer with the bloated carcass of a cat. I've been here so long that this kind of thing doesn't bother me anymore, so I join in. I score three goals and make a game-winning save. The children gather around me and ask about my life in the more bohemian sections of Brooklyn. I show them a picture of my girlfriend.

"She is very beautiful," says one of them.

"Yes," I say, "and very wealthy. She is a human rights activist who has also written three prize-winning novels."

Later, a man is impaled on a stake in the town square, while a desperate, ravaging mob tears at his clothes to wear as their own. I want to ask: for what crime was this man sentenced to die? But I do not speak Albanian.

I am leaving tomorrow. The town has pooled its remaining money together, three dollars, to throw me a farewell party. I hug Grandma Ninotchka, my favorite family member, for a long time. She works 20 hours a day, six days a week as a plutonium miner to feed her family, and spends her precious free time, what little there is, as a volunteer grave digger.

"You have brought a beacon of hope into our dark and miserable world," she says. "And god bless you for not stealing my oatmeal like the man from The New York Times."

I am not prepared for the immense wave of emotion that I am experiencing. Nothing I went through in college, not even having dinner with two presidents, could have possibly prepared me for this. I cry silent tears, and pray for the people of this sorrow-ridden country, and for myself.

First published in McSweeney's.
Purchase this and other stories in The Neal Pollack Anthology of American Literature.

balkanize this!

2007-03-01T14:21:00.000-05:00

Because I live under constant parental pressure to move near my family, I often find myself thinking of all career prospects available to me in Tirana and Beyond. While my parents are convinced that an MA from a respectable institution of higher learning would assure me some kind of teaching post, I feel that if I ever move to Albania I can only chose from the following options:

1. Open a Summer Inn in Divjake and run it with disillusioned friends and unemployed cousins.
Every country needs more jobs (and of course more Americans).

2. Purchase IKEA furniture in Italy and drive it back to Tirana to sell it for ten times the price. Use profits to open establishment dedicated to sale of barbecued corn indoors.

3. Rent out Tirana apartment to businessperson and move to Dhermi to work on historical novel.

I am partial to the last option but, since the list is a work in progress, I expect that to change.

days of awesome

2007-02-22T01:28:00.000-05:00

Anri Sala is back in New York! An exhibition of His Albanian Hotness will be showing at the Marian Goodman Gallery through March 31st.

gerrmo Tare gerrmo

2007-02-09T21:50:00.000-05:00

Fjalori i perditshem shqiptar eshte i mbushur me kuota nga filmat e te madhit Kadri Roshi. Faleminderit.

you are losing your mind

2007-01-28T05:24:00.000-05:00

I have come to realize that Albanian men hold a huge stalking potential, which is apparently unleashed whenever a woman is somewhat responsive to their presence. Albanian men - and I make very few exceptions here- have also a seemingly inherent talent for retaliating in the crudest way possible when their godlike persistence and awe-inspiring endurance fail to convince a woman to sleep with them.

I did not live in Albania long enough to date. The one man I decided to go out with assaulted me on the second date, which cancels the "date" factor from that equation. I am sure his penis eventually fell off and the rest of him was eaten alive by an army of hungry Ebola infested monkeys, but I have forgiven him so let's move on.

Having had no experience with Albanian men, I considered the possibility that I might inadvertently give out the "wrong" message. This would explain the "stalking/harassment" without shaming the entire male population of my kind. After all, when I am in Albania my brother frequently warns me to "stop smiling" or "stop being so friendly, because it's weird". As my mother acknowledges whenever given the chance, I do have the tendency to smile too much, "like a fucking imbecile". Albanians are generally not a smiling people.

Unfortunately, after marinating on this thought for about a week, I realized that I am not the one to blame. I might be very polite, but I am also brutally honest and in a very Albanian fashion, my face frequently fails to filter irritation and boredom. Furthermore, having had no contact with any Albanians outside my family for many years, I treat Albanian men as I would my cousins, and I do not flirt with my cousins. We're from Albania, not Kentucky.

your culture is the honey to my bear

2007-01-01T21:56:00.000-05:00

by which I mean that i want to fatten up on it and feel it slowly disolve into oblivion.

the universe is shaped exactly like the earth

2006-12-28T04:05:00.001-05:00

Political photo ops with children are creepy. They are especially creepy when they involve an Albanian politician and child. They are even more unsettling when this unfortunate looking illiterate ass-whom I hold personally responsible for most of my fears about the future of my people-is involved.

taken from 24 ore

happy late chanukah

2006-12-26T02:34:00.000-05:00

While the evil atheist plan to commercialise Christmas - thus taking it away from Jesus and all the God fearing Wall-Mart employees of America - went beautifully for yet another godless year, I received the perfect gift, a sexy Ipod. It came wrapped in a large box, which led me to believe that I was about to receive a six pack of cotton underwear from K-mart. It was not underwear. It was a sexy Ipod. Even sexier than a dick in a box.

I might not actually believe in God, or have any respect for religious institutions and people who use the word "spiritual" to describe themselves but, if Jesus had anything to do with this, I would seriously consider putting an end to all the sex jokes about him.

start wearing pink

2006-12-24T03:19:00.000-05:00

Things one hears at The Metropolitan Museum of Art regularly:

- Can you tell me how to get to the Mona Lisa?

- I am interested in historical art. Where is that?

- Where is the art? I am only interested in the art.

- Which way to the dinosaurs?

-Where is Van Gogh?
-19th Century European paintings are on the second floor.
-No, I want to see Van Gogh.
-The impressionists are in that gallery. Some Van Gough paintings have been moved to the Vollard exhibit
-No, I want to see the regular Van Gogh.
-Oh, OK. Just take the elevator to the second floor.

-Do you have any Picasso here?

-Where is the Weenheart Republic German exhibit?

-Where is the important art?

shqiptar i merituar (title revised)

2006-11-30T17:42:00.000-05:00

ourmanintirana is the most awesomestest non-Albanian living in Albania.

even when you throw away your pride, you need pride to do it defiantly

2006-11-02T00:54:00.000-05:00

Aside from perennial favorites - Dorothy the Whore, Slutty Little Red Riding Hood and Tarty Lolita or Maid - the best costume roaming the Village streets on Halloween night was the team of Duke Uniersity lacrosse players. Those kids are going places.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere at home is still a bit tense due to the following:

Lola: You know I think he kind of...

Hiromi: No. Never compare 木村拓哉 (Kimura Takuya) to him. Never!

Lola: Seriously, if you think about it...

Hiromi: Don't say it!

Lola: I'm not saying that he's...

Hiromi: Loli, you are killing me!

Lola: But...

Hiromi: NEVER!

I realize that the fun of comparing Kimutaku to a mortal in front of a Japanese woman is not worth the pain of being stabbed in the lungs with a foaming toothbrush and I shut the fuck up. Later I make sure to mention how sexy I find Mr. Kimura (and I do). Let the healing begin.

お誕生日おめでとうございます!

as long as you don't do it in public-week in review

2006-10-30T18:40:00.000-05:00

"There are no answers in my world, but there is kindness." Haruki Murakami(村上春樹), accompanied by his wife and her august yet appropriately hip haircut, accepts a literary prize in Prague.

I might have mentioned this previously, but I absolutely love the Albanians.

spinsters, booze, cigarettes

2006-10-11T03:11:00.000-04:00

A few months ago I interviewed a man who turned out to be a family friend of Neruda.
This Pablo Neruda.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

that's right betch

2006-09-26T14:13:00.000-04:00

i love love love albania

2006-09-21T17:07:00.000-04:00

Albanian vacation is over. More pictures coming soon.

tirona

2006-09-14T08:33:00.000-04:00

I apologize for not having posted as promissed.

i have not been able to write anything, because i've been overwhelmed. I've also been very busy and drinking too much. I will probably not post anything else until I get home next week. Until then here are some pictures.

na polli belaja

2006-08-28T14:32:00.000-04:00

Top 5 best of Albania so far:

5. The smell of pine trees at the Ardenica Monastery and at the beach.
4. The little cookies that come with your coffee at Blloku.
3. The grocery store in our building.
2. Birra Tirana!!!!!!!
1. My dad's fake Chanel women's sunglasses.

albania borders on the adriatic

2006-08-26T14:11:00.000-04:00

It turns out Albania has changed a lot during the last ten years.
Tirana is very dusty. My eyes burn. I will write in detail and post some pictures, as soon as I finish visiting my five million cousins.

dorën përmbi zemër ma vendos ngadalë...

2006-08-18T20:20:00.000-04:00

remembering the good times

待っていました！

2006-08-16T10:59:00.000-04:00

Japanese people are so last year! 浅野忠信, 村上春樹,ひろたん and たかお not included of course. This year is all about the Albanians.

As I am slave to all trends, I will be attending the next big Albanian meeting this August. It is an annual event where Albanians work on new and improved practices of self-hate and of course criminal activity. I`ll be taking pictures.

the brides wore black

2006-08-15T11:49:00.001-04:00

*update*
The queen has posted wedding pictures.

nippon superiority

2006-08-11T02:30:00.000-04:00

My hair has caused embarrassment to confident, overpriced hairdressers the world over. It is apparently impossible to assess my true hair color or its reaction to coloring products. Therefore, whenever I decide to take the trip to the salon, I prepare myself for either the Morticia Addams look, or a head full of orange - the color of rotten mangos, rusty nails, and poo.

Hiromi, who finally moved to New York to ruin my life, dragged me to a Japanese hair salon, where I was coerced into allowing effete Japanese men with superhero hairdos to highlight my hair. The man taking charge of my head, and his assistant were both very pleasant and not quite the degree of gayness I had anticipated. there was no With heroic efficiency the two-man team sectioned, colored, shampooed and cut my hair. Never one to trust the Japanese, during the massage I tried to immagine the right shade of brown to cover the monstrosity that would inevitably be my hair.

Alas, my hair is neither orange nor vampirish and I seem to look significantly less like a "walking candy apple".

eat the popsicles everybody!

2006-08-04T01:24:00.000-04:00

During the renovations of the mess that was my apartment, my super said he loved me. Because, as you know, I am beautiful on the inside. His love did not give him the strength to replace my window, but his blank stare and reaching hands scared me straight to the landlord. My landlord has apparently no control over his employees, but he was kind enough to remind me of my biological need to get laid. Which brings us to today.

The otherwise highly tolerable Albanian blog Peshku pa Uje posted a piece on Mjaftfest 2006, under the title "A girl's impressions on Mjaftfest 2006". A girl "had imagined that there might be hashish at the party, but had high hopes when she saw the police cars". Sadly, her hopes were crushed, as in the face of orgies, girls giving up their punanis for marijuana, even public "oral", the police did nothing.

Which brings us to the reason why I do not smoke the marijuana. The thought of selling myself for that nickel-bag and looking a mess while having sex in public is just too gruesome.

seemed like a good idea at the time

2006-07-27T12:39:00.000-04:00

It is, by all indications, a good time to get married.
The Wylde called to say she is getting married next June, thus joining the likes of Edvin and Elizabeth and of course The Pantses. Naturally, my mother will not hear about any of this marrying. How could I tell her, right before my Albanian month-long vacation? One can only handle so many single Albanian doctors, no matter how "e ngritur" the family.

why i love albania

2006-07-25T15:06:00.000-04:00

with love

2006-07-17T23:39:00.001-04:00

The Japanese vocabulary is determined by throwing tiny pieces of sushi at a dart board with several random syllables attached to it...The Japanese have what could be called an “interesting” grammatical structure, but could also be called “confusing”, “random”, “bogus” or “evil”. To truly understand this, let’s examine the differences between Japanese and English grammar.

English Sentence:
Jane went to the school.

Same Sentence In Japanese:
School Jane To Went Monkey Apple Carburettor.

Japanese culture is also very “interesting”, by which we mean “confusing” and in several cases “dangerous”...The Japanese also like cock fighting monsters that live in your pants, taking baths with the elderly, and killing themselves.

more reasons why one should never attempt to study japanese here.

i want to stroke you like a little kitten

2006-07-13T22:36:00.000-04:00

I am not against spirituality. I understand how someone can have that impression about an agnatheist heathen, but I assure you that is not the case. I have no idea what spirituality is. In all honesty, I do not understand the word. It confuses me - the way the word "feminine" and the fact that Albanian banks are overdosing on money confuse me.

local world cup festivus

2006-07-09T20:24:00.000-04:00

popolo di pizzaioli

2006-07-07T13:40:00.000-04:00

The German press has frequently referred to the Italian players as "pizzas" or "spaghettis". There have also been several negative remarks about Italian work ethic, which - as a person who is in daily business contact with Italy - I find very offensive and not at all true.
So, in the spirit of sophisticated football rivalry, e few Italians were hard at work producing the following (probably during business hours over pizza and spaghetti). Enjoy!

there is no such thing as luck

2006-07-04T19:54:00.000-04:00

An article on the I-talians.

serious nationalist rant

2006-07-03T22:45:00.000-04:00

I've had enough of Albanian pessimism. I've had enough of the self-deprecating shit from self-righteous spectators. I cannot bear the perennial identity crisis and the half-assed nationalism anymore. I am tired of the cliches, the comparisons, and the self-serving tools masked as selfless acts of "patriotism". I have no delusions about the current state of affairs in Albania. I am aware of my privilege and I am not indifferent or ignorant of what so many have had to go through before and particularly since '91. You have a right to complain. Yes. You are also responsible. It has not all gone to shit. I am not that important (or without blame) and neither are you. Fucker(s)!

お誕生日おめでとうございます!

2006-07-02T16:40:00.000-04:00

It turns out Obama loves the Lord. I was happy to hear it. Maybe he can get my God a mention in the Pledge of Allegiance as well.

More birthday pictures here.

blue steel

2006-06-20T14:42:00.000-04:00

"so, ridiculously GOODlooking"

お誕生日おめでとうございます!

2006-06-19T01:05:00.000-04:00

World Cup Woes

2006-06-13T15:31:00.000-04:00

projected score:
Croatia 2 - Brasil 1
actual score:
Croatia 0- Brasil 1

I understand that not a single person here cares about the World Cup, but this is MY party. I love Croatia. It borders on the Adriatic, which is where I learned how to swim. I detest the Brazilian team. It is traditionally full of arrogant, unattractive little pricks. That is not to say I do not like Brazil. I love Carnival, itsy bitsy bikinis and I share the Brasilians' dislike for body hair. But, since the World Cup is nothing but a world-wide nationalist fuckfest, I generally go with the closest thing to my kind. Usually, the kind who has not historically tried to eradicate my kind (which is not easy to find by the way).
Anypickles, my teams are as follows:
*edited*
1. Italy—since always, because no matter what I do Italian follows me.
2. Japan-because it made Haruki Murakami and Asano Tadanobu.
3. Holland—because my father adores Johan Cruijff .
3. Croatia—for reasons explained above.

checking my voicemail

"Privileged, idiotic people have such potential, for so much more, and yet here you are…perpetually objected by stupidity. Tell me why? Just please, just tell me why…"

"she's just perpetually...my mother"

2006-06-08T09:49:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I called my mother for moral support and legal advice. I received both and it was a very pleasant conversation. On the same day, a man from the Albanian Embassy returned my call and provided all the information I needed, in both verbal and written form. He was pleasant and very articulate. The homeless man did not relieve himself in front of our office in the afternoon.

The world has gone mad.

誰に向かってもの言ってんだよ！

2006-06-03T18:33:00.000-04:00

i have been smoking again.
the gods are obviously against me and it appears i have not the strength to ignore them. for now. so i'm smoking about it.

beware of the "rapeseed oil"

2006-05-23T02:58:00.000-04:00

two of my absolute favorite things in the world - Ezra Pound (the short stuff) and Japanese crab chips.

Francesca
by: Ezra Pound

You came in out of the night
And there were flowers in your hand,
Now you will come out of a confusion of people,
Out of a turmoil of speech about you.

I who have seen you amid the primal things
Was angry when they spoke your name
IN ordinary places.
I would that the cool waves might flow over my mind,
And that the world should dry as a dead leaf,
Or as a dandelion see-pod and be swept away,
So that I might find you again,
Alone.

Crab chips:

all about the rotary

2006-05-14T22:34:00.000-04:00

the much anticipated trip to Boise did not happen.
the logical thing to do was to spend the weekend in Cape Cod etc. with the Pantses.

corey's flickr, and more albanian hilariousness

everyday life

2006-05-03T14:43:00.000-04:00

since the 8th grade, every time i think of Mayakovsky i think of this.

Hello!
Who's speaking?
Mamma?
Mamma!
Your son is gloriously ill!
Mamma!
His heart is on fire.
Tell his sisters, Lyuda and Olya,
he has no nook to hide in.

Each word,
each joke,
which his scorching mouth spews,
jumps like a naked prostitute
from a burning brothel.

not very special. i know. popular verse of a very famous poem.
but that image has always produced such a strong reaction in me. it always makes me want to feel more, live a little more and, you know, see more prostitutes.
strange that mayakovsky would have that effect on someone. stranger that i always picture actual prostitues, wearing fluffy white underpants...with crochet ruffles.

In other news:
This brought back memories.

...and me i feel also not so good

2006-04-24T19:36:00.000-04:00

this one is for Devlyn...

2006-04-22T20:40:00.000-04:00

my party people

2006-03-14T11:25:00.000-05:00

Today my people celebrate Summer's Day(Dita e Veres). A distinctly Albanian holiday. The magical stuff national identities are made of.

Faik Konica - DITA e VERES
C'eshte Dita e Veres? Eshte dita ne te ci1en stergjysherit tane, kur s'kish
lindur ende krishterimi, kremtonin bashke me romaket dhe me greket e vjeter,
perendite e luleve, te shelgjevet. Kur shkrin dimri, kur qaset vera
buzeqeshur, e holle dhe e gjate si ne pikture te Boticelit, zemra e njeriut
shkarkohet nga nje barre, shijon nje qetesi, nje lumtesi te embel. Ne kete
gezirn, stergjyerit tane ndienin nje detyre t'u falen perendivet qe sillinin
keto miresira. Dhe ashtu leu festa hiroshe qe e quajme Dite e Veres.
Ne pak dite ne Shqiperi, besniket e fundme te paganizmit; besnike pa dashur
dhe pa dijtur, do te rrethojne me verore deget e thanavet, te dellinjavet, te
dafinavet, te gjithe shelgjeve te nderuara. Do te keputin dege te gjelbra dhe
do t'i vene permbi kryet e shtepivet.
Te mos i leme te humbasin keto festa te vjetra te rraces sone. Nuk i bejne
dem njeriut. Sjellin nje gezirn te kulluar ne shtepi. Ne nje vend ku jeta e
te vegjelvet eshte aq e trishtuar, djelmuria dhe vajzat kane nje rase te
rralle per te defryer. Per te medhenjte, Dita e Veres ka nje shije poetike te
holle e te rralle.

1911

jesus hates south dakota

2006-03-13T16:55:00.000-05:00

My newly acquired token Serbian and I will be living together.
I am optimistic that things will go well, as long as the boy does not build himself a shrine in my bedroom and declares it “the heartland” of his identity.

So, while I can be really squeamish about violence in some action flicks, I am pretty sure I have kept my eyes on the screen during Ichi the Killer longer than most people. I am equally certain that I was the only person in the theatre to not look away during a certain scene in A History of Violence. Great film. 5 thumbs WAY up!

put some feeling into it

2006-03-08T23:43:00.000-05:00

Crash was contrived, preachy and the characters were obvious one-dimensional racial stereotypes. I found it too offensive to my intellect to be affected by its exaggerated bleakness, so I laughed through most of it. Bad movie. 0 out of 5 thumbs.

Po mire qe nuk dine anglisht por nuk flasin dot as shqip?

the little albanian that could

2006-03-04T23:50:00.000-05:00

Was Adbusters always this full of crap?
More on the crap coming soon.

Meanwhile, in the Lower East Side...
月山さんの馬と山羊と牛が山から谷の川まで行く。

for love or money

2006-03-01T16:54:00.000-05:00

Gore Vidal was on Da Ali G show. Very confusing.

24 little hours

2006-02-23T18:58:00.000-05:00

I have used shopping as medication and I do not feel fantastic about it. I blame Hiromi for shopping every day when she was in New York.
Shame on you.

I see you jockin' me Tryin' to play like You know me

2006-02-21T17:05:00.000-05:00

still dry

2006-02-12T05:12:00.000-05:00

Part one: i’m on my way honey.

-So, sometimes unattractive people can be beautiful on the inside?
-No,that never happens.

Part Two:business

For Zach:

1. Black Cadillacs by Modest Mouse—I listen to this whenever I am angry, which of course means I listen to it all the fucking time.
2. Dridhem—Albanians pretending to not be conflicted about their sexually repressed semi-Mediterranean culture, by working into their pop the most obvious sexual stereotypes Orientalism has to offer. Unbelievably tacky of course.
3. Ready Steady Go by L’Arc en Ciel—because it’s available at work and because it is good.
4. Arittake no ai de by Gackt—I can’t stop listening to this cheesiness.
5. Gold Digger
6. Champagne from a paper cup by Death Cab for Cutie.
7. Tirona—West Side Family. Albanian rap. Delicious!

magic

2006-02-03T11:05:00.000-05:00

more about the gods

2006-02-02T14:21:00.000-05:00

Denmark's Jyllands-Posten newspaper apologized to Muslims for publishing cartoons depicting Mohammed.

Remember this?

Do you think there is some kind of Catholic fatwa on these guys?

your beautiful enormous cranium

2006-02-01T19:54:00.000-05:00

It ain't easy being a woman on this side of the world, but at least I’m not a member of the Japanese imperial family. OH, the horror of marrying foreigner!!!!!

Në lajme të tjera andej nga anët tona:
Nuk e di a është për të qarë apo për të qeshur? Vetëm një fjalë më vjen në mend: brilliant!

drop her off in Brooklyn

2006-01-22T13:35:00.000-05:00

Last week on the 6 train, I noticed that the woman next to me was reading The Iliad. Hardback. Grown-up version.
I was reading the celebrity page of Metro. Brangelina is pregnant.

明けましておめでとうございます

2006-01-03T22:14:00.000-05:00

public service

2005-12-28T00:21:00.000-05:00

Instead of this random posting shit, I have decided to take a proper break. Will return after January 15th.

i have piety and forgiveness; all i need is some raki

2005-12-27T01:57:00.000-05:00

o të hëngsha flokët me lugë moj

2005-12-27T01:15:00.000-05:00

no sex whatsoever required

2005-12-13T23:19:00.000-05:00

It could be because I don’t bother with things like self-respect or dignity, but walking around the apartment in my underwear in exchange for free rent sounds like a deal to me.

whose party is this anyway

2005-12-06T02:33:00.000-05:00

Well children, it appears that I have finally given my career some direction. Henceforth, I shall put an end to debauchery and rejoin respectable society.

In other news, our neighbor’s girlfriend was mugged right around the corner from our apartment.
It is very strange to hear about this sort of thing happening in our neighborhood. I was mugged in East Williamsburg (Bushwick) many years ago, but that really does not surprise anyone. That little Brooklyn adventure ended with me running after the scared little man, to get my passport back (which it turned out I had left at home). This one had a slightly less humorous ending, as the poor woman is still in the hospital.
Well, Happy Holidays everyone!

何者何だ

2005-12-02T03:41:00.000-05:00

Not everyone can save the world , but it would be nice if you at least tried to not die a completely fucking illiterate asshole.

touched by his noodly appendage

2005-11-24T12:31:00.000-05:00

It is Albanian Flag Day weekend and we are celebrating the day the Indians (feather) shared their food with people, who killed them off shortly after dinner. Yet,today is not all fun and games. While you celebrate the Albanian almost independence, and the killing off of the Indians (feather), take a moment to ponder the sad news of the demise of Nick and Jessica, America’s most beloved couple. Don't fight back the tears. Look for comfort in the Lord and make sure you procure enough alcohol to drink the rest of the pain away.

my career: part infinity

2005-11-22T15:56:00.000-05:00

Thanks to the merciless pressure placed on me by my painfully-middle-class parents, I realized at an unnaturally young age that my professional life could only take one of two directions: I could either walk the honorable and safe road to the high/middle, or I could choose the impossible path through the sinister forest, where I would be surely eaten by mysterious, depraved, horny creatures. The bad guys are always horny.

The first path would inevitably lead to one of those professions (read; doctor, lawyer) which assure the children of the not-poor-yet-not-quite-rich, the financial security they were brought up with. It could also lead to a moderate amount of prestige; the raison d’etre of Albanians the world over.
Clearly, I was meant for the forest.

You can imagine my surprise when I found myself in an uptown office, surrounded by an army of highlighted women pacing around in the latest Banana Republic and last season's RTW. Needless to say, it did not go very well. Then, as I was waiting for the elevator, next to the very expensive looking man, I imagined myself in outdated shoes and conservatively-flashy designer clothes. Perhaps I should use my intellect for the pursuit of a superior monetary existence, I thought. Hmm... maybe not.

jesus is magic

2005-11-19T06:53:00.000-05:00

Lynn Neari does a great job for NPR. This, however, does not mean we have to ignore the fact that during an interview for Talk of the Nation, she called the Japanese PM, "Koizimo". Frankly, I wouldn't care if she mispronounced the name of the ape leading Albania to yet another hell, but she cannot be messing up the vowels of the prime minister of Japan. Aside from what this incident tells us about Lynn's understanding of Asian politics, I just do not think it is safe to fuck with the LDP. They are fierce. Super duper fierce.

As clearly demonstrated by their fierce logo

vaj vatani, mjerë mileti

2005-11-18T22:04:00.000-05:00

Të them të drejtën ka pothuajse dhjetë vjet që nuk e ndjek muzikën tonë. Arsyeja kryesore për injorancën dhe indiferencën time ështe fakti që niveli i krijimtarisë artistike ka qënë pothuajse zero. Megjithatë, tani u rritëm na ardhi koha të kthehemi në Shqipëri dhe të shpëtojme rracën nga ujku. Prandaj duhet të njohim të famshmit shqiptarë.
Le të shikojmë së bashku tre kategoritë kryesore te këngëtarëve tanë, të ndara nga "look-u" ose pamja e tyre.

1. Komplet Hamerikone.
Në këtë kategori hyjne ata që e kanë pamjen më "normale", por që sillen sikur na kanë cliruar Kosoven nga Greku.

dhe megjithese nuk e di mirë gramatikën e shqipes...

2. S'tundemi nga balta, s'kemi frikë nga shiu, jemi rracë e fortë rracë harixhiu
Pamja e këtyre këngetareve përmblidhet me pak fjale: një cik "turbofolk", një cik jevgjite edhe pak rruspiqe".

Duhet ta pranoj që Gjystja është simpatike, megjithëse duket sikur ka ngrënë gjithë bakllavatë e lagjes e i ka blerë rrobat ke "ari".

3. "Lavdi Partise se Punes se Shqiperise"

pa brirë ka dalë dhe moda

2005-11-17T13:19:00.000-05:00

I apologize for the irritation all these changes and lack of updating have apparently caused all (two) of you. I will return to this blogging business shortly.

everybody loves new england

2005-11-13T01:30:00.000-05:00

poor, cheap and going corporate

2005-10-13T03:40:00.000-04:00

I have a job interview for something called “analyst/writer of some kind”. More disturbing - I had to shop for apparel suitable for an "analyst/writer of some kind". Since I am both poor and cheap, I decided that H&M was my only option. I had decided to boycott them for dropping Kate Moss, but in the end I felt that my sustenance was more important to me.

On the train, a crabby German man asked me for train directions. I pointed at the train map next to him. Then he asked me if the wet New York Post under my seat was mine. I told him he could have it.

On the wrong way to the store on Fifth Avenue, another man asked me for directions. I did not give them to him. By the time I realized someone had spoken to me, I was almost across the street. He looked sad. Well, next time you need directions; do not whisper to someone a foot shorter than you, carrying an umbrella in the pouring rain and then try to make them feel shitty about it. Asshole!

I get asked for directions all the time. I would ask me for directions too. I look competent. Although I think the reason people ask me so frequently, is that I’m too skinny to hurt them, yet not nearly skinny enough to be on crack. Anyway, four blocks, a splash of cab water later, I was in the store.

Firstly, H&M is apparently not familiar with size 2-with boobs, or the fact that some people are under 5’4” tall with arms to match everything else. Secondly, what up H&M? Let's try to maximize the professional, and minimize the chubby and facing menopause!

albanian politics 101: bringing down the fugly

2005-10-12T04:13:00.000-04:00

"America is at that awkward stage.
Too late to work within the system,
but too early to shoot the bastards."

Apparently, Edi Rama still believes in working within the system -- he is since yesterday the new leader of the Albanian Socialist Party. Because of this development, I am feeling rather optimistic about the prospect of my crappy country, being crappy no longer. Unfortunately the Socialists had just lost the election to Sali Berisha, so we might have to wait a while. Berisha is a relic from the time, when I would have massacred my fellow kindergarteners, for a chance to seat on Enver Hoxha’s lap at the Party Congress. Fucker!

exclaiming my surprise at my stupidity

2005-10-10T02:22:00.000-04:00

As an adult you have to deal with things. I try to avoid dealing with the unpleasant, but somehow it always manages to come back and bite me in the arse. At this point, any well-adjusted human being would pull the Chupacabra’s teeth out of their fanny, and pound it into a squashy, smelly, bloody mess. I am one of these well-adjusted people. So, while I beat the living Jesus out of the foreign monster that's been feeding on my bliss, y’all should check this out. It’s a bit old, but a nice introduction to Anri Sala’s work.

fear the chupacabra

2005-10-09T08:28:00.000-04:00

Someone made a documentary about Nabuyoshi Araki and it apparently features Bjork and other such important people on a perennial quest to out-weird or out-artsyfart their friends, spouses, the rest of the world or whatever. I don’t know what the reigning opinion on Nabuyoshi Araki’s work is among you people, but to the disapproval of the pretentious snob in me, I must admit that most of his work makes me throw up a little in my mouth. This is neither good, nor bad. There are many reasons for my rare non-bulimic quasi-vomiting and not one of them carries a decent argument to condemn Araki as an artist...or do they?

you cannot put underwear on a dog

2005-10-03T19:35:00.000-04:00

"You cannot put underwear on a dog" is a genuine, commonly quoted, Albanian proverb, along with "the pear's tail is in the back" and "while the village burned, the old lady brushed her hair".

they love me, my god they love me

2005-09-29T04:23:00.000-04:00

Anyone who knows me, knows that I support arranged marriage; it saves your virginity, it helps keep the bloodline pure, and it gives your third cousins a say in your future happiness. True, we’re a bit late for the first one, it might be a lot better to spread the genes, and obviously my cousins are way too busy discussing this goat-milking season, sitting around a fire outside our tribal caves in Tirana to worry about my future.

But in the end, when your dear friend’s mother takes it upon herself to make you a member of the family, by marrying you off to her good looking nephew, you owe it to her to check it out. After all this is Japan we’re talking about, they might not even ask for my father's goats.

who had the whiskey

2005-07-20T12:57:00.000-04:00

Upon opening my window this morning I noticed an enormous pink sign on the pink church across the street. It was decorated with equally enormous, even pinker hearts and read “WE LOVE YOU”.

Initially I assumed that “we” stood for the church's clients, but soon I realized that it was a quote from “Thesalonikies”, or some other text from the old testament. Yes, I am aware I misspelled that, but it's not at all relevant to this rant and I’m not exactly trying to get it on with Jesus here. The point is, some very important people love me. Yes, almost all of them are dead, but they love ME!

But why the pink hearts, on the pink sign, on the pink church? Well, this was obviously a clever christian anti-gay message. First, they get the gays attention by flashing their national colors and then passive-agressively let them know that gay is wrong with the "I Love you".

2005-06-20T17:59:00.001-04:00

ジャンァと私

back for good

2005-06-16T21:54:00.000-04:00

Starting today I will once again (somewhat) regularly overshare vague details of my life, discuss highly inappropriate topics and furiously masturbate to the thought of people admiring my non-adventurous life.

sleep depravation, more nationalism and sex

2005-05-09T18:26:00.000-04:00

Fellow Albanian, Dorian's Greek joke.

An Albanian and a Greek man sitting under an olive tree:

The Greek – What do you mean our civilization is not superior? We invented theatre.
The Albanian – We have our own forms of high art.
G – We also invented philosophy.
A – You also killed Socrates.
G - We invented sex.
A – That maybe true, but we were the ones who introduced it to women.

Elizabeth and Edvin were in town this weekend.

2005-05-02T11:22:00.001-04:00

Elizabeth and Edvin were in town this weekend.

i forgot about gravity

2005-04-25T16:53:00.000-04:00

I have neither the intellectual capacity nor the time to update anything until the end of the semester. Until then, here are some pictures from Church
.

2005-04-25T16:24:00.000-04:00

2005-04-25T16:14:00.001-04:00

laura devlyn matt

本が安くて買った。

2005-04-22T19:05:00.000-04:00

2005-04-22T19:04:00.001-04:00

フダ　

2005-04-22T19:04:00.000-04:00

fernilicious

that is unacceptable

2005-04-19T01:32:00.000-04:00

I am a stinky fat rat sitting in a sewer waiting to infect the world with a highly contagious flesh eating disease that will make everyone explode into green slimy nastiness. Not only am I too lazy to actually process anything, but the intellectual stimulation of putting two sentences together is giving me a headache.

Clearly we must find out why my cerebral cortex is (as my mother used to tell me when I was a child) flat as asphalt. Why have my neurons ceased to form new, strong connections? And most importantly, what’s with the rat metaphor and why would my only contribution to humanity be the next plague?

Possible reasons for current depression:
1. I have gained five pounds.
I suppose this could not be helped as I live in America where there are fat particles floating in the air. Forget about the fat particles for one instant and your ass is the size of Texas. Must skip meals to allow body to eat its own ass.
2. The ethnic group I belong to suffers from severe cases of; self-deprecating yet dignified victim complex, vanity, and (even more strangely) excessive pride.

Typical Albanian thought process:

a. That is a lovely Marc Jacobs dress and she looks fantastic in it.
b. I have always wanted a 40s style dress.
c. Why do I not own a 40s style dress?
d. Surely every other woman has one.
e. Clearly, Marc Jacobs hates me.
f. The whole universe is against me.
g. I don’t care if Marc Jacobs hates me; I am better looking and more intelligent than most people.
h. I am very dignified.

Clearly this makes it very difficult to get through the day without contemplating suicide, in a very dignified way.

The important thing however is to overcome these obstacles and exit this depression with minimal injury to my academic future. Perhaps I should work with my fat ass and ethnically inherited psychological disorders, not against them.
I will persevere. I will stop eating, learn to enjoy what I have, and make more Greek friends to rid myself of my excessive pride.

In entirely unrelated news, here's some new Engrish:

- "Sure, knock yourself out."
- "You want me to punch myself?"

2005-04-18T16:49:00.000-04:00

introduction

2005-04-18T16:47:00.000-04:00

ひた

2005-04-13T16:28:00.000-04:00

neighborhood

2005-04-13T16:27:00.001-04:00

kitchen

2005-04-13T16:26:00.000-04:00

morning

2005-04-12T18:06:00.000-04:00

partizone

ying for yang

2005-03-27T21:12:00.000-05:00

Part one: Erection
I live in a historic building, of course there is a ghost in my apartment; probably a former madam. If I must have a ghost, I want her to be a real fun lady. But let’s leave Brunilda out of this.

Here I am, striking a very unattractive pose for said ghost. Curled up on a dinning chair in plain view of the church across the street, pant-less, Sputnik Sweetheart held up with my left hand, mouthful of spaghetti (basil-tomato sauce), I think about intercourse. It makes no difference that very unattractive Christians are walking in and out the large pink (no kidding) church.
I am after all reading about someone’s monumental erection.

The unfussy way in which Murakami describes intercourse is extremely sexy. Read Murakami Haruki for two days straight and you read about many people having terrific intercourse. “There is nothing wrong with reading about other people having intercourse.”

Obviously this is not one of those moments when I feel I should be having some intercourse. I am thinking about intercourse in very technical terms. What occurred to me as I was filling myself with spaghetti, fictional erection in my left hand, was that I am not excited about having sex with someone new. I am not into people I do not know. As far as I’m concerned the world is full of illiterate shits, which presents a problem in terms of intercourse. If you thought the world was full of worthless shits, you would not be excited about intercourse either.

Part Two: Self-service
Who cares about fictional erections and my non-adventures in Idaho? Well I certainly don't. My life here is a long unproductive vacation from my career as a secret Interpol agent. What are you doing here?

Part Three: Monumental Erection
When people google “monumental erection” this page will eventually come up. I guess there is nothing wrong with that.

Part Four: Rotten on the inside
I have a flu or a cold. I have not yet decided which one, though I am partial to the former. It feels like I’ve just been hit by a blue car, and have ended up stretched out on the sidewalk full of broken bones and everything I’ve ever eaten is swimming in my lungs in very unpleasant gooey form.
Nasty!

In other news: Is Banana Yoshimoto the literary counterpart of Barbara Streisand for Japanese gays?

i do it for the lord

2005-03-17T15:02:00.000-05:00

All this talk about Jesus throwing himself into a plump Christian orgy, got me to thinking about spiritual matters. People like me who grow up with no concept of religion are generally pretty adventurous when it comes to the Gods. For us there is a certain appeal to religious conviction which people like the Catholics will never understand. I have test driven many fucked up religious groups (mostly of the Jesus variety). Many heathens would probably stick with any such group, but for the guilt and the systematic application of the fear of death. The Eastern Gods are a different story, but who gives a shit about that part of the world.