rosaluxembourgeoise

I could see Jaffa cookies crumbled over maline granite, doused in vodka.

rosaluxembourgeoise

The "easier to travel" one really baffles me. But people say it all the time.

You've made me want to dip Jaffa cookies in vodka, just to try.

As for rakija, grandpa Franc makes his own and it will probably be at least instrumental in whatever ends up causing my death. I smuggle it over here in water bottles whenever I return.

I'm very sad that I've lost touch with what it would be time for eating right now. Is it too early for tresnje (or as some of my folks would say, cesnje)? I remember picking them off the tree next to our house, or taking a whole branch inside to bake into something.

I so wish that the vikendica was ours, but it belongs to a family who we (big "we" there, I've only met the parties key to this arrangement a handful of times) only know because one of their daughters dates one of our sons. That's one thing that I really miss, being caught up in family like a web. That's also one of the things I ran away from.

Zorica

rosaluxembourgeoise

But since we're being earnest, I'll tell you; I can't help it, I love seeing kids with SFRJ t-shirts, and eating maline when it's time for maline, or jagode when it's time for jagode, and especially tresnje when it's that wonderful time, so fleeting and crazy, and there are so many and they leave sweet stains on everything and you have to make slatko to save some of that excess for later when they no longer weigh down the branches of the trees.

I've heard those conversations, too, but other variants, like it was easier to travel before, or easier to eat, or get a PhD.

Oranges most people can't afford anymore don't really make up for losing as much as most people lost. And the ubiquitous Jaffa cookies made up for the oranges a bit, even though you couldn't squeeze them into vodka, but what's wrong with rakija, anyway?

PS: Let us continue this debate at what I hope is your family's roomy vikendica in Zrce. I'll bring stuff.

rosaluxembourgeoise

Everyone on here is so literate and quick. It's a bit pressureful for this sad little Zorica.

Zorica

But when they were all finished, Mama Minka, who is 80 but claims to be 90, said very quietly, "Yes muci, it's true, we had more holidays back then. But perhaps you will recall we didn't have oranges."

Seeing as we were fresh-squeezing our own OJ to mix with the vodka, that made a profound impact. Regrettable, but communism simply had to go.

Zorica

rosaluxembourgeoise

rosaluxembourgeoise

Why you delightfully candid class-conscious little scamp!

rosaluxembourgeoise

ian spiegelman

minou

+ Watch video

I'm not sure where I stand on this.

Priam

ian spiegelman

And since I neither rich nor young nor unemployed, I'll just have a seat right over there.

MisterHippity

ian spiegelman

That is all there is to it. If you are rich and young and fancy yourself a writer, please comment elsewhere. Why? Because nothing you say will ever mean anything to anyone who isn't rich and fancies themselves a writer. Now go away. You don't matter.

Thank you.

ian spiegelman

Priam

@MisterHippity: My parents were boomers, and by the time I was old enough to apply for editorial jobs, I wasn't up against just a huge mob of applicants, but a huge mob of applicants whose boomer-ass parents were rich and had trust funds so they could work for free. And I suspect that problem is pretty much an epidemic among Millenials now, since they're kids born to boomers at their very richest. I mean, imagine what a boomer couple was worth in '74 as compared to '84. Which means we have a lot of even more awful novels and trend stories heading our way from kids who never had to bother working.

All three generations should weep. This isn't about age, it's about money, and the moneyed fucks who've been ruining the written word for three generations.

ian spiegelman

The actual baby boom - as defined by on birth rates - lasted until 1962. Then the Pill come on the scene, and the boom went bust.

In 1961, my birth year, there were more children born in this country than any other year in U.S. history. Applying to college was murder - I got rejected or wait-listed for schools I would have got into easily in a less crowded year. Every job I sought for out of college (low level editing positions) had a mob of applicants seeking it with me. When I asked recruiters how many people had applied to each one, the answer was usually somewhere around 40 or 50.

That's what life was like for us 1961-born kids. Part of big crowd, elbowing each other. We all had to develop sharp elbows.

Jut talkin' bout my g-g-g-generation.

MisterHippity

Priam

This ain't no holiday
But it always turns out this way

richardmarxhatesmyhair

ian spiegelman

Priam

Priam

Still with all the hate, Red Rose? The game is over. Your team picked up their ball and scurried off the field. Come on over for the big win already! We could use someone like you!

ian spiegelman

Certain geopolitical turns of events, occuring perhaps not coincidentally before the arrival of Pearl Jam, have steeled my resolve, though celebratory occasions have been less frequent.

rosaluxembourgeoise

ian spiegelman

rosaluxembourgeoise

ian spiegelman

They tell me I'm a boomer. And I believe them because I don't like Pearl Jam. And because I used to stay up late to see Rickles on Carson.

chazerium

valarmorghulis

ian spiegelman

Too old to admit to watching American Idol and Hentai, being on Facebook, bookmarking naked pix of Vanessa Hudgens.

Too young to look good for our age, have any of the pharma ads apply to us, say inappropriate things to be taken as sage wisdom. We can, however, look forward to the inevitability of impotence, gum disease, and the old person odor.

Boo hoo hoo. But at least I have a house.

chazerium

Gayyker

Buzz Killington

MisterHippity

Mediahohoho

MisterHippity

dado