2008-06-08 drinking
by Vasil Kolev(this is a translation from the hand-written stuff last night in The Apartment)
I’m starting to drink again:
Vodka x3, 2x elder juice, one strawberry juice.
Съпротива.net (Resistance.net) – a book of a Bulgarian author – Hristo Karastoyanov, nice, a bit torn (this seems to be the modern style), about a madhouse. There are also a lot of fun moments of the type “DOS”, Shtirlitz thought, “You’re DOS”, Muller thought.
I’m drinking in the Apartment. One date failed and I’m quietly getting drunk. I’ve bought some books from Orange (where Svetla is working now), about the first I already wrote, the other one is some stuff by Solzhenitsyn, the third one is The Fifth Elephant by Pratchett (in original).
I looked in the bookcase here, they have all kinds of things, even some treasures (like “The name of the rose”). Turns out that it won’t be a problem to leave them a box of books.
(the vodka is a nice thing)
While I was at Orange, Svetla gave me the coordinates of their central office, according to her it shouldn’t be a problem to distribute books like the ones by Bukarski or Tisho. Now, how much would Komitata or Tisho like that I have no idea, but I’ll give them the address anyway.
Or we’ll make IBB a market for such books – informal, just to be able to feed the authors we like.
(And Tisho’s book is pretty nice. With this kind of development in a few more books they can start translating him :) ).
I need to play a bit with the wireless that’s here, or to finally get GPRS. Not that I don’t like hand-writing, but it’s horrible ((extremely horrible, I feel like translating from Chinese)) – I have no idea how I’ll read it (but I’ll definitely scan it).
I thought for a while who do I feel like drinking with (and after yesterday’s post I think it’s clear how important is for me to drink) and found out that except with E., with whom was the date tonight and who is sick (probably because she doesn’t drink enough) and maybe chervarium, there’s nobody else. Seems like I’ve started hating the people again, even with the girls here I can’t get into a conversation.
(at least here I can read, especially when I don’t carry the laptop)
I should send E. some stuff by Bukarski, I have the feeling that she’ll like them.
At some moments I feel like asking the local boss “Are there any technical problems to be soled around here?” – they use macs, but that will just make the exercise more interesting. Is this a sickness?
Looks like I really like fixing problems, the hard situations when in 20 minutes you need to save the day, at some times I wonder if I’m attracting them in some way. I had some such moments in which I wondered if I’m not causing them, so I digged in a few problems and it looks like it’s not so (although I don’t trust myself, I check a few times and I still don’t trust me).
(to be noted – the nice red-haired girl from the personnel)
Tomorrow will be the test if my normal alcoholism (e.g. getting drunk up to twice a week) is a problem for the neuralgia. If it is – there will be some nerve-killing (on both sides, as it’s moving). Otherwise the reason is known – sinusitis, goes around my nose and moves the whole thing (and the nasal drops are a temporary solution). And there’s a limit of the spicy stuff I can eat without dying…
(I wonder how much more can I write on 1/3 glass of elder juice + vodka?)
Knowing how hard it’s for me to write otherwise and how easy it’s when I’m drinking, I’m starting to understand how “War and peace” was written. It’s good that I’m remembering that I’ll have to translate this. (And this especially – to decode, too, as there’s no OCR that can decode it) ((even I have a hard time reading it)).
So there’s the question – fourth vodka, or to go home? There’s a unhappy half a bottle at home which I haven’t touched in three months, I feel a bit guilty.
(I’ll be sorry that I didn’t take the laptop, I hope I’m able to read this) ((yes, I’m really sorry))
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Fourth vodka. I’ll read Solzhenitsyn.
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I refuse to translate the rest :) As a finish, just to mention – I got home in some way, my mother heard me singing between the buildings “Gorda stara planina” (the national anthem), the flatmate heard me vomiting (the sound has been like the one of drowning cat) and that’s that. I haven’t gotten drunk since the 16th of March, it was about time :)