Fondant din marshmallows, aka cum mi-am petrecut sambata seara si parte din duminica

Gasiti aici reteta pentru chestia aia colorata, ingrozitor de dulce, atat de dulce ca-ti zangane tamplele de la zahar, cu care se orneaza prajiturile si alte alea facut in casa si pe langa casa.

In al patrulea rand, trebuie sa aveti urmatoarele:

-300g bomboane marshmallow (daca vreti sa le colorati ulterior, luati albe sau ceva in zona #ffffff)
- 4 linguri de apa (chiar si apa de la chiuveta e potabila, in ciuda campaniei lui Nicusor Dan)
- 70g margarina Rama, ca, deh, nu se poate altfel (cica de gatit, da' mere cu de care aveti, se pune doar intrebarea ce faci cu restul de 180g)
-750g zahar pudra (stiu. wtf?!? De ce asa mult zahar? Aparent, asta face the sticky bastard sa nu mai fie sticky)
- 100g amidon (il gasiti camuflat sub numele de scena "Gustini" sau asa o balarie)

Atenţung!!! Din astea va iese o tona de fondant. Cam cat pentru tortul miresei si al botezului copilului. Exagerez, dar pt o tava de briose sau ce-or fi, puteti, linistit, injumatati cantitatile.

Bomboanele se pun intr-un vas inalt si lat in umeri, impreuna cu cele 4 linguri de apa, in cuptorul cu microunde timp de 1 min. Totusi, sa nu faceti asta inainte de a pregati restul prafurilor.

Intr-un alt vas se pune margarina facuta bucati-bucati, amidonul, zaharul pudra (dat prin sita si asta o sa dureze mai mult decat ar dura sa plantezi sfecla, sa o cultivi, sa o procesezi, sa faci zahar, sa-l macini). Dupa acest amestec fabulos, punem si le marshmeleaux in cuptor si apoi topite deasupra. Compozitia o amestecati pana la ne-eterogenizare, incepe sa se lege si sa se intareasca.

Pasul urmator, se presara 2-3 linguri de zahar pudra dans le masa si şmaf cu fondantul pe masa, pe care il framantam pana cand, de lipsa grijilor, nu se mai lipeste de mana.

In cele din urma, formam o bila. Hehe. Pe care o invelim in folie alimentara (noi taranii ii spunem ţiplă) si lasam materialul la racorica pana a doua zi. Preferabil si la intuneric, evtl in dulap in compania cestilor de cafea, care stiu o multime de barfe.

A doua zi, inainte de o noua sedinta de masaj, aluatul este incalzit 20sec la cuptorul cu microunde. Apoi, din nou, şmaf, cu el de masa cernuta avec le sucre pudra.

Daca vreti sa-l colorati, incalziti-l pe bucati cu colorantul dorit. Aici cam trebuie experimentat cu proportiile. Cum nu sunt un geniu culinar nu va pot sfatui prea riguros.

Pentru ornare am cumparat si bilute d-alea colorate, de zici ca-s de plastic, creioane colorate cu sirop, coloranti (aia din Kaufland sunt NAAAAAAAAAAŞPA) si scobitori. Scobitorile le-am folosit sa fac un copac, dar pe ala nu l-am pozat pentru ca a iesit ca lucrul manual de la gradinita nr.23 cu program prelungit.

Teoretic pentru coloranti iti trebuie si manusi, sa nu te patezi pe maini.

No, atata.

I hate my brain

Today there will be no procrastinating, my brain said, and I agreed. I started working and I was browsing for a solution (yes, stupid typo3 thingie) when I saw an add with 'the silence of the lambs' and my scumbag brain said 'make the joke. come on, do it. it will be funny. it won't take long'. Alas, I can not contradict my brain.

Guma nu mai e ce'a fost

De cateva zile merg pe bicicleta la munca. Si inapoi. Si inapoi tot pe bicicleta. Asta pentru ca de curand Mihai a fost foarte dragut si mi-a reparat bicicleta (nu are inca nume, dar curand o sa aibe). In consecinta cred ca voi avea noi peripetii de povestit.
Nu voi descrie cu aceasta ocazie cum era sa ma spanzur langa garla, dar ma voi da mare cu noua mea casca, care seamana cu Darth Vader

si voi povesti despre cum se repara aparatoarea. Roata din fata are o aparatoare prinsa cu o piulita de niste chestii. Piulita este mare dansatoare si nu sta locului langa aparatoare, ci danseaza aiurea pe langa. Am tot strans-o de cateva ori, fara succes, cand mi-a venit ideea geniala sa o lipesc cu guma. Am mestecat rapid un Orbit fara zahar pe care l-am lipit apoi in jurul piulitei. Rezultatul a fost multumitor insa guma nu s-a lipit cum imi aminteam eu ca se lipea cand ne-o punea profa de desen in par. Faptul asta m-a intristat putin.

Like a first kiss

Every other morning I buy a fried-egg sandwich from a food joint at the subway. Two very nice ladies makes it in front of you, ask you whether you want salt, pepper and dill on it and what sauce you choose from sweet ketchup, spicy ketchup and mayo. I take sweet ketchup, mayo and no dill, to go. I've been ordering the same thing for over three months now and have been wondering when they'll start recognizing me and anticipate my order for two months now. This morning, like a first kiss, they pleasantly surprised me when they asked me 'the fried-egg, right?'. I smiled semi-circular and said 'yes, please'. And like any other first kiss it was a bit awkward, like when your faces don't align right or your hands collide on their way to a hair stroke. The one who was frying the egg said 'no pepper, huh?' and I smile and reply 'no dill', to which she reacts fumbly and mumbling 'oh, yeah, right, of course'. At the same time, the lady who was preparing the bread asks 'just mayo?', again, I smile sweetly and say 'also, sweet ketchup' and get the same reaction 'oh, sorry, yes, I knew that'.
I swear, it was like that no-music-dance preceding a first kiss when you are shy and perky at the same time, when the awkwardness of the new approach mixed with your rushing blood and pounding heart makes you stumble and make silly mistakes. However, maybe that's part of what makes it unforgettable.
Maybe.
There are smooth first kisses which become haunting, kisses that arise from undreamed dreams, happen by happenstance and shatter you to your core.
You just lie next to each other because there is no where else you could be, eyes closed, your little finger invisibly touching his elbow. Then his arm moves tiny inches towards your hand and this fact in itself tumbles all of your insides. After your breath takes a quasi normal rhythm again you dare to stroke his arm and the seconds to his reply feel like a half-forever, but then, then his fingers caressing your arm, assuring you, giving you unfearfulness. And as you wonder, yearning, if it would be too much to hold his hand, he covers yours with warmth that just goes through your whole body who acts on its own and slides next to him.
Through the dizziness you don't even realize when he put his arms around you, only feel  his soft strokes on your arms and back, his feathery touch on your cheek and that wonderful feeling, overwhelming you, that nothing else exists in the world.
Though you can't and don't wish for more and although there are no actual thoughts in your head you know that something grand is going to happen. And right before you can start to worry he grabs your head, covering your ears with his hands, making you deaf to yourself and anything else. Another half-forever passes and then you feel it. That sweet, soft, tender kiss. First kiss.
I'm just sayin'. It could totally happen.

Story other will tell

My best friend is leaving for Canada and he asked me to drop the papers for him. I took a cab when I went there cause I was in a hurry but I decided to take the bus back. Now, anybody who knows me has also knowledge of the fact that I easily get lost. Actually I am so disoriented that I could effortless arrive on the twelfth plane of torment on my way to the kitchen. So, I take a bus thinking it's the right one, do a mental research about the number of the bus, decide it's the right one, consider to ask the lady next to me for reassurance. She gives me this merciful look and says 'oh, honey, it's the right one but it's the wrong direction.' To which I answer 'oh, should've thought so. This happens fairly often.' She raised a suspicioso eyebrow and considered that she has to explain to me how to get on the other side, in the right direction. Meaning she showed me the zebra crossing and that I should cross it and then wait for the same bus on THAT side of the street. I just smiled dumbly and said nothing. Which made her wonder if I really understood. I bet she followed me with her glance as I got off the bus, crossed the street and I also bet she went home and said to her husband/children/grandchildren 'There was this girl I met on the bus..'

As the evening sets in

I should be very busy these days, deploying a site I promised I would make, deploying my own site, finishing a poster and reading for my thesis. But what do I do? I play aimlessly with a dog from a Kinder Surprise, chat with a former student of a guy I used to date, avoid going to the bathroom, listen to the same song again and again, plan my route from Izvor to Obor, daydream about a new phone and procrastinate with aplomb. What's wrong with me. I can't even ask myself.

Once again, Typo3

After not using Typo3 for almost 2 years it seems I've got some catching up to do.
So I installed tt_news 2.3.1 on Typo3 4.7. I create a singleview page, I create a record folder, populate it, make a content element with a list view, go to the frontend aaaaaaand the more link is not working. Let me rephrase that for the search engines: more link isn't active, more link is not linked, it's a dead link, go to Archive doesn't work either, it is a broken link, it is KAPUTT. I make a little research (2 days in a row), reinstall the extension, clear all the caches. Nothing.
Turns out the solution is one of the most idiot things you've heard of. It's almost like counting to 13 and then clicking refresh. The singleview page can't be hidden. If it is, the links will not work. And since the 'not in menu' option isn't an option anymore, you will have to put the singleview page on a not displayed level of the menu.
Mnyes.