tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41610127323018570992024-02-02T07:27:52.278+01:00The Middle of Nowhere, Montenegro, #?!?What can happen in 3 months? A strange Inter-A student can rediscover her newly re-broken homeland... Aha, so there's a former in front of it now?Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-2968410031622207072008-08-24T22:10:00.004+02:002008-09-06T00:33:24.956+02:00Let The Games Begin.No, not the Olympic games. Or Yugioh. Just usual plain card games, journal. Armed with a deck of cards from the market, me and my brother decided to beat the midsummer blues by playing every card game known to man.<br /><br />Er, well, every card game known to my brother, is more like it. He's an attentive learner only when he wants to be, so his knowledge of card games is limited to when he's actually paying attention to my teaching rants.<br /><br />Crazy 8's, Go Fish, War, Cheat, Slapjack, and multiple games of Solitaire graced my coffee table, and cups upon cups of drinks stacked up to the point where we had to pause in the middle of a Solitaire endurance tournment to clear off the surface and make space.<br /><br />Besides, not like we had anything better to do, like clean the house, play with the cats, do some pre-schoolyear review, read some books, listen to music. Of course not... Note: We did actually do useful things later, I swear!<br /><br />The fun went pretty smoothly, if I can say so myself, being the winner of nearly everything. I say nearly because I caved in to the kiddy charm and rigged the cards for him to win in War, and let him slap first by miles. He seemed pretty smug about his ' victories ' in the end. Typical little siblings.<br /><br />The day continued on in an ordinary fashion, the usual here and there visits from neighbours and friendly faces. As we were dragged off to the beach, the cards sat forgotten until we'd come back. Or so we thought.<br /><br />Once we sauntered back, still plastered wet and salted to the core from a nice long swim, me and my brother were shocked to find the entire table, full of cards, gone. Cleared, not a trace. Whodoneit? I advised my brother to put on his detective hat, and we snooped around for the cards.<br /><br />It later turned out that the cards had been 'borrowed' by my grandparents, and the little cats had gotten their paws on them. Asleep, safe and sound on the pile. We sighed in defeat, and twiddled our thumbs in boredom.<br /><br />Only half an hour later did it strike us that we had a computer, and so we turned it on, opened up Solitaire, Spider Solitaire, and Freecell, and clicked our worries away. Fun times, my friends, that technology brings up. Fun times.Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-49802694296053705242008-08-21T21:04:00.002+02:002008-09-06T00:37:53.319+02:00Back To My Home, I Dare Not Go.After being completely disgusted with an electrolyte mixture called Orosal 65 (hasn't this country ever heard of Gatorade?) I was presented with news of my father and mother going to visit their cities of parental origin for legal document reasons.<br /><br />My father travelled to Murovac (Moo-row-vuhts), in the northern area of Montenegro to visit his mother's grave and renovate it with a new headstone and concrete walls, as well as to get documents and visit other families. It's basically still a farm village, primitive but effective.<br /><br />My mother then later went to Prokuplje (Proh-koop-lyeh) in Serbia, to visit some of her father's relatives, check on property, and also deal with legal documentation. I'm pretty sure it's a rural area as well, a farm village with minimal outside world contact besides groceries and basic technology (maybe two people have television).<br /><br />Meanwhile, I slowly recovered over three days, and mourned my loss of beach time. Nothing would be able to make them up to me, and in my sulking I realized I would just have to give more effort into my later days, and in some way try to recreate the waves I never saw.<br /><br />Oh well, at least I wasn't sick anymore. Any more Orosal or little tablets that I had to pop three a day of, and I would have gone off my rocker. As fun as that would be for artistical masterpieces, it wouldn't be very practical in day to day life. Such a bother.<br /><br />I haven't travelled very far past Sutomore and Bar in Montenegro, not even to my birth city of Cetinje and it's amazing chapels and mountains. I can wait until I'm older, but my curiousity gets the better of me to what lies nearby in other cities, and my will to travel just keeps growing bigger.<br /><br />Not to mention, going back home to Canada is approaching even closer, and the differences will soon start to take effect...Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-37393938526430303252008-08-18T20:14:00.005+02:002008-09-06T00:37:21.863+02:00Sunshine, Lollipops, Rainbows, Stomach Flu.So, this can only happen to someone like me. I'm pretty much sick. Again. Two viruses in a row! Can you believe my luck? If only they were lotteries, my dear journal, if only...<br /><br />It turns out, I'm not the only one ill this time. In Podgorica, the main city of Montenegro, a huge outbreak turned into an easy epidemic of stomach cramps, pains, vomiting, nausea, temperatures variating quickly and burning and freezing in ridiculous mismatched timing.<br /><br />I winced through hours of sleepless tossing and turning, pains and running to the bathroom, cluthing my stomach and being hunched over. Let's just say my toilet bowl and me became very good friends, while I glared at my stomach and held my breath not to allow anything else to visit.<br /><br />So, the second day that my condition worsened, I hopped off to the doctor's office, dazed and terribly orientated. She shook her head and could tell within seconds what I had. What every other person in the whole waiting room had, minus a few oddities.<br /><br />It made me think, was this ailing so many people that the pharmacies were nearly sold out of hundreds of boxes of pills and syrups and mixtures to ' fix ' it? So I opened up google, and typed in ' stomach flu epidemic ', trying to see if fair old Internet had any unbiased information on the disease that the local media had to hide for tourist reasons.<br /><br />(That's right, I've figured it out, government. As has every other citizen.) I read a nice article about what was going on. To partially quote:<br /><br />" Mysterious, dangerous and very infectious disease called by many a "stomach flu" has affected not only Podgorica, the capital of Montenegro, but that country's sea coast as well. This outbreak has all the characteristics of an epidemic of norovirus-associated gastroenteritis. The authorities deny any epidemic in spite of almost a thousand of registered cases in Podgorica with the symptoms of this mysterious disease. "<br /><br />Not only that, but there's been two deaths so far. Somehow, I feel luckier. A lot luckier.Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-19592024478724410552008-08-15T16:59:00.003+02:002008-08-28T14:20:06.865+02:00Pictorial Entry - Domestic HappeningsAgain, the cellphone camera comes in handy around the house and nearby on walks. More pictures by yours truly and her wonderful auntie.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-IlgcQgQo5dCcQlufxZAsDjGCAaDLtaDDoCyQ04MW29LD_hJUQGxq9hNJ4qp1tkMav-o7baUehMKKgcEhWbcMlaKWm2Y5iL6ZdgABQJ4G7xCZ-tE5W0D3cm4y-K4WpnoQsTOOlzql6Fn/s1600-h/Photo-0116.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239536846487347570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-IlgcQgQo5dCcQlufxZAsDjGCAaDLtaDDoCyQ04MW29LD_hJUQGxq9hNJ4qp1tkMav-o7baUehMKKgcEhWbcMlaKWm2Y5iL6ZdgABQJ4G7xCZ-tE5W0D3cm4y-K4WpnoQsTOOlzql6Fn/s400/Photo-0116.jpg" border="0" /></a> The more playful of the kittens decide to take a nap, only to be distracted by a strange bug.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5bXihvPvVb1qXal9FWDKlDbtfJYGYuGHATC5h2NhTvV6gZcH6XpCHIePLdiPo1w424IjyUvK4QZeMPeGm6Em3NYEvutDJoE9Jyq_02-9kP6taNJWhd59uNLYWobnMmFLSgUqiQi4Bwr7/s1600-h/Photo-0115.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239536671229268226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5bXihvPvVb1qXal9FWDKlDbtfJYGYuGHATC5h2NhTvV6gZcH6XpCHIePLdiPo1w424IjyUvK4QZeMPeGm6Em3NYEvutDJoE9Jyq_02-9kP6taNJWhd59uNLYWobnMmFLSgUqiQi4Bwr7/s400/Photo-0115.jpg" border="0" /></a> And yet, it doesn't take long for them to get back to their usual monkey business.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVV2oytIUduLOWBzXGHjOdAkcZz-EX3ypfdPI5dR0qq1yXZL1E9SxpI1gZGVKNvH17OgiL7Dbbvq3TeifF8a7Jjgx_ijqkwgqEvN2meGhpT8ygArgLtb6KPPDfwbLEAOZIxKocH9NOBAX8/s1600-h/Photo-0050.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239535941084930130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVV2oytIUduLOWBzXGHjOdAkcZz-EX3ypfdPI5dR0qq1yXZL1E9SxpI1gZGVKNvH17OgiL7Dbbvq3TeifF8a7Jjgx_ijqkwgqEvN2meGhpT8ygArgLtb6KPPDfwbLEAOZIxKocH9NOBAX8/s400/Photo-0050.jpg" border="0" /></a> Sivko (Seev-koh) poses for the camera, after being chased by various little siblings.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZAYug6rqXr0ir6cjzHkQezCYj_C_qVkr599GUwqMDxRZYgD_w2vKu9pPxQX5-kGzN3zNjQ2ZcbAZFNuff5FgdJZw6wyoJZv0geXtsepg3um43nZFXgM6OKbP-NhDY07RgeDrSkS7zq0Z/s1600-h/Photo-0035.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239535729487485218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZAYug6rqXr0ir6cjzHkQezCYj_C_qVkr599GUwqMDxRZYgD_w2vKu9pPxQX5-kGzN3zNjQ2ZcbAZFNuff5FgdJZw6wyoJZv0geXtsepg3um43nZFXgM6OKbP-NhDY07RgeDrSkS7zq0Z/s400/Photo-0035.jpg" border="0" /></a> Monkey see, monkey do. Little Mica (Mee-tsa) copies her older brother Mico (Mee-cho, the c is supposed to have an accent, but I'm limited in this format).<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEA3L2D4YLKDfx2v3ec3l7lYACPIl8ZUeeI9rRbwhkth4CQLmECA7_iODj056nNHp-BFazwAmtbJAWcoVOhaP-B2zpvGz9K1eRKUHgpH212Eo1qO2VZAz3NBSdjEZrmIEj0_9Vh7Hs2o1D/s1600-h/Photo-0027.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239526696991271458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEA3L2D4YLKDfx2v3ec3l7lYACPIl8ZUeeI9rRbwhkth4CQLmECA7_iODj056nNHp-BFazwAmtbJAWcoVOhaP-B2zpvGz9K1eRKUHgpH212Eo1qO2VZAz3NBSdjEZrmIEj0_9Vh7Hs2o1D/s400/Photo-0027.jpg" border="0" /></a> The whole family gathered together, the two mothers and their four children. They never knew their fathers, poor little guys. The little black kitten, Crnko (Tsrn-ko) is hidden against a bigger cat. Can you spot him?<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33fzStrFizBy2ZoojwQTlJUGkHwi-xC4IG07B-p9SGUzr-Ervypx9EYExuqdedqAQ1jhHNZEwcZ0jpWP9V_KMqGc3mSW2QNypYZRQJBerJYPd2btnYDBBPGZATeMOgQwE98Gb7eS_aMpG/s1600-h/Photo-0130.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239526225260808146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33fzStrFizBy2ZoojwQTlJUGkHwi-xC4IG07B-p9SGUzr-Ervypx9EYExuqdedqAQ1jhHNZEwcZ0jpWP9V_KMqGc3mSW2QNypYZRQJBerJYPd2btnYDBBPGZATeMOgQwE98Gb7eS_aMpG/s400/Photo-0130.jpg" border="0" /></a>The view from one of our houses in Bar, from the top balcony over looking an olive grove and a mountain town. </div><div><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViScnjzFGSHWNf48hdpTeBqrl6tm2xl_3zZvaXGuTVAd92Tp9KYMxv5iY5dpC3U7kCnCmWCyXomlSjNOcPBURGY6gFiP3s6dyVTSWDAHePzwkf66ZnANCBWDZ71S3J4IVc_HMQFIHokj1/s1600-h/Photo-0118.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239522822738589810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViScnjzFGSHWNf48hdpTeBqrl6tm2xl_3zZvaXGuTVAd92Tp9KYMxv5iY5dpC3U7kCnCmWCyXomlSjNOcPBURGY6gFiP3s6dyVTSWDAHePzwkf66ZnANCBWDZ71S3J4IVc_HMQFIHokj1/s400/Photo-0118.jpg" border="0" /></a>The aforementioned house, my parents built it from scratch and a good team of workers and a well thought out architectural plan made it the quaint thing it is. A pretty orange sherbert paint job is brand new, and the house deserves it.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNk4iuvzf45-sAXXs7b_RhjOU2VzwFmkjKiyD4Q5DNjYNP493wPnwtm3voCQv_IXhHyhQCGbLQSd0zBMtW9MIbH_RJu6clik66kLiiVnqki7ioliufVhbbi1dA2HcKoxAEO1MsRGDQpOV/s1600-h/Photo-0015.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239509407943849282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNk4iuvzf45-sAXXs7b_RhjOU2VzwFmkjKiyD4Q5DNjYNP493wPnwtm3voCQv_IXhHyhQCGbLQSd0zBMtW9MIbH_RJu6clik66kLiiVnqki7ioliufVhbbi1dA2HcKoxAEO1MsRGDQpOV/s400/Photo-0015.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div><br /></div><p align="left">Our house in Sutomore, it's big, roomy, and quite modernized compared to the house in Bar. The top floor is where me and my close family vacation, and the bottom floor is my grand parent and auntie's. The blue pill shaped object on the left side is a water resevoir, and underneath it is a stone built outdoor shower. Quite nifty and useful on water-shortage days, or just hot summer afternoons!</p>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-86345615639369280492008-08-12T10:28:00.014+02:002008-08-28T13:48:36.611+02:00Another Pictorial Entry - The Sea.<div align="left">Me, my aunt, and a cellphone with a camera are a strange and wonderful combination. The pictures following are from what we took in July and early August, and are themed by the ocean. Another set of pictures after this one! </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEMqxeP6v7lFfN24Oy6uqHIDtuRG4ZZ3Ga6nRKEH8jLTA9cFen81I8JcBQZUq2sbsKOZtyAuxFkcWXlZ_zu9tj_62T5zomOsF946zXy2faRBshEqduM3xb48UMLr_Vsinpu0OSVI3fRuq/s1600-h/Photo-0007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239504529653412050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEMqxeP6v7lFfN24Oy6uqHIDtuRG4ZZ3Ga6nRKEH8jLTA9cFen81I8JcBQZUq2sbsKOZtyAuxFkcWXlZ_zu9tj_62T5zomOsF946zXy2faRBshEqduM3xb48UMLr_Vsinpu0OSVI3fRuq/s400/Photo-0007.jpg" border="0" /></a> Rocky starts leads to smoother endings, nature knows how to compromise better than people.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWNsULZ3hEb34t87TZ22C_MVPfRvSQvETk7z1sn7ghaUaDc-K5rb6HkTmpJj3MhGRPVttlh_dJIU7TWnXJYWlRVOiDeakoH5yIvEbGSZ8HP5yi_yAXz4w3HiT4p3GniAVWgCB0ZJaDAH0U/s1600-h/Photo-0009.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239503545822149602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWNsULZ3hEb34t87TZ22C_MVPfRvSQvETk7z1sn7ghaUaDc-K5rb6HkTmpJj3MhGRPVttlh_dJIU7TWnXJYWlRVOiDeakoH5yIvEbGSZ8HP5yi_yAXz4w3HiT4p3GniAVWgCB0ZJaDAH0U/s400/Photo-0009.jpg" border="0" /></a> Another hotel nearby, with a gorgeous shoreline as well.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWfTKKKaRsU6pA_LhVXtRhrFwdaNEw2tdcE2AueM75p7j0kH8dJ8cQYQXUXAKxnjbXeEsOYDY-1SrqcR2HHRiogleq7-HHWxeS9gabgp3wGvYW7AKfsoNJrikH6c8T_4pFGtVzXHEVkdc/s1600-h/Photo-0042.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239497339379303730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWfTKKKaRsU6pA_LhVXtRhrFwdaNEw2tdcE2AueM75p7j0kH8dJ8cQYQXUXAKxnjbXeEsOYDY-1SrqcR2HHRiogleq7-HHWxeS9gabgp3wGvYW7AKfsoNJrikH6c8T_4pFGtVzXHEVkdc/s400/Photo-0042.jpg" border="0" /></a> A view almost reminiscent of back home in British Columbia...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdG03niAi-JpOmVl4HnfcQF7UnDeZpwzk8qNPv0Nv8yds5sMN0js3OJ9kO_URoJvjXxNkDWm4tmY74jGSehh7Uoo1lm-ZiovuB43nw4SBrw5ejQGJSacjGlz_IvBNtnZIfoDIxrlK_63No/s1600-h/Photo-0028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239493983635364914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdG03niAi-JpOmVl4HnfcQF7UnDeZpwzk8qNPv0Nv8yds5sMN0js3OJ9kO_URoJvjXxNkDWm4tmY74jGSehh7Uoo1lm-ZiovuB43nw4SBrw5ejQGJSacjGlz_IvBNtnZIfoDIxrlK_63No/s400/Photo-0028.jpg" border="0" /></a> A rare cloudy day, and the power of the waves is mesmerizing.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9mxhvBFxY0ZIcdj5SowRsrfvrVY2C91h5uajkdeXIup8bpTbcCzTikMOc-hvXVnToGf3rdXmWekD8NlNt-QHMHqPQSezecSKwC1ddMGc9o_VKlAuhGwZQXWerjXba4_3v2ko3dBMjkPJA/s1600-h/Photo-0034.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239492941979359154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9mxhvBFxY0ZIcdj5SowRsrfvrVY2C91h5uajkdeXIup8bpTbcCzTikMOc-hvXVnToGf3rdXmWekD8NlNt-QHMHqPQSezecSKwC1ddMGc9o_VKlAuhGwZQXWerjXba4_3v2ko3dBMjkPJA/s400/Photo-0034.jpg" border="0" /></a> Even as night falls, the scenes are picture perfect.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBuxi5hGTWnuJ0pobjN1ZdrBkGYXc1CJ8zoqlQ6lxhWNTWI3b4GIZ-bh3Wq_Rp2ix4t1uo7HEgAvkKqNG2T5Q18opExlSWwSD2VgyCVXuM1kPk5AQODFPaoQhyBWFeQ8LNeIR5A4A2pHU/s1600-h/Photo-0030.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239492087457383954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBuxi5hGTWnuJ0pobjN1ZdrBkGYXc1CJ8zoqlQ6lxhWNTWI3b4GIZ-bh3Wq_Rp2ix4t1uo7HEgAvkKqNG2T5Q18opExlSWwSD2VgyCVXuM1kPk5AQODFPaoQhyBWFeQ8LNeIR5A4A2pHU/s400/Photo-0030.jpg" border="0" /></a> The top balcony of the hotel also has an extremely rewarding view.<br /></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif6OWVSEPpxWBIVSiTSraVAak0LtFPLnL552wWNtVx5xbzbM_txVF0DEKSFgD976MNGbAqyR63TrDsXXcaoUkD7rBFokKHK606UquOllpLXfnR65LWGEfzkgp2lB_z7r7ErMTLpGVU4HL-/s1600-h/Photo-0063.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239490817690321522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif6OWVSEPpxWBIVSiTSraVAak0LtFPLnL552wWNtVx5xbzbM_txVF0DEKSFgD976MNGbAqyR63TrDsXXcaoUkD7rBFokKHK606UquOllpLXfnR65LWGEfzkgp2lB_z7r7ErMTLpGVU4HL-/s400/Photo-0063.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><div>A bird's eye view of the descent from forest to ocean to mountain.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqnzauJAnuc-ikOOf0o4ot-zeglic4gxMsWP7-wI8Y3ZAVweFP_-VO7Ux6skb1Qj01rogfnogmOCa0C4fYIM8HEtHBAg9gUiVMog0nJ6lYuK-0867TYTywcubAtemtwrjvBVKTG82uibH/s1600-h/Photo-0065.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239489609926383890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqnzauJAnuc-ikOOf0o4ot-zeglic4gxMsWP7-wI8Y3ZAVweFP_-VO7Ux6skb1Qj01rogfnogmOCa0C4fYIM8HEtHBAg9gUiVMog0nJ6lYuK-0867TYTywcubAtemtwrjvBVKTG82uibH/s400/Photo-0065.jpg" border="0" /></a> The hotel where my aunt works is beach front, and it's called INEX - Golden Coastline.</div></div></div></div><br /></div>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-27472078582420991882008-08-09T16:03:00.003+02:002008-08-23T16:18:50.494+02:00Back To The Fashion Future.Another style magazine, another wonderful token of the material world affecting our daily life. What, it's not in fashion to breathe? Then you can expect 94% of our lovely population to be asphyxiated or blacked out, possibly even further.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong. Fashion is an art, faux trends however are the disease that plague the population and stop the true art from progressing. Europe tends to be ahead in the trend world, whether those are good or bad trends.<br /><br />For example, this summer you were either bold or you were nobody. Bright yellow, lime green, electric blue, fuschia, and orange accented with black or zebra prints and huge statement jewellery were what everybody was lusting after. Strappy clothing, belts, gladiator sandals, huge tote bags, the looks were in your face and popping with self expression.<br /><br />Wait, self expression? WRONG. If you're dressing like every single person that walks down the street, you're not expressing yourself. You're showing that you can follow a collective's ideas and illustrate how mindlessly desperate you are to fit in.<br /><br />Now, I'm not saying that wearing your favourite yellow top has made you a zombie of the fashionista world, no far from it. Basically, you take tips and pointers from the idea of what's in, not deck yourself out in rainbow sunshine vomit to blend in with the crowd.<br /><br />I respect how people dress, because it's their own personality they're supporting and showing off to the world. No matter how much we deny it, we humans are superficial and shallow to a point, we are attracted to, well, attractive things. A shirt that resembles a burlap sack will get three times less attention than a sleek and chic black v neck t top.<br /><br />Speaking of trends, the wonderful and amazing minds of designers have given us great ideas for what's in store for the autumn/fall season. Let's just say put away the ruffles and flowers, menswear is taking a huge jump into the world of ladies' fashion.<br /><br />Plaid. Need I say more? Designs and textures are a huge deal, as well as the material you dress in. Wool, tweed, houndstooth, plaid, cotton, cashmere, and the like. As for colour schemes, contrast is still in. Jewel tones (dark emerald green, wine red, navy) paired with lighter neutrals are a great choice, purple and gray paired together are a signature look, and as always, earth tones and black for those days when you just need some warmth.<br /><br />Riding boots, vests, cardigans, caps, sweaters, statement coats, layers, thick heels, pointed heels, coppery metals, wooden jewellery, pearls, pops of colour here and there, a natural look for makeup, leggings, dark denim, fitted clothing, baggy sleeves, pretty scarves, slouchy bags, and innocent portayals of character. And that's just a start! Wow, I sound like a what's-hip magazine type reporter. Time to go cool off and try and ignore the realm of... fashion.Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-20004272678761442582008-08-06T20:46:00.002+02:002008-08-23T16:03:08.414+02:00A Tale of Tourism.I've been getting better, and to celebrate, I decided to earlier today climb a huge rocky hill overlooking the Sutomore ocean coastline. I call it a hill because it seems like a dwarf mountain, and is covered in trees and red clay-like earth and thousands of plants and grasses sprouting from the most amazing places.<br /><br />Armed with comfortable shoes, I treked up paths and rocks, noting everything around me like a five year old child. Not only were the rocks so different, the wildlife, the view, but the feel of the air and the atmosphere around me were also curious. The sea breeze was the most refreshing incentive by far.<br /><br />I just regret not having a camera to take picture of the wonderful view. Maybe next time I visit the same area I'll photograph everything in sight. I did take a few rocks as a sample (Mrs. Veto will be overjoyed!), and they're residing in a huge tray of rocks like the ones I found on the coastline, feeling home safe and sound.<br /><br />The strangest thing was probably seeing goats running around on the mountain, not bothered by people at all. In fact, some of them approached people with food and kindly blinked until offered some bread. While amusing, I set my sights back on the top of the hill, which was closer than ever!<br /><br />Once I got to the top, I sat on a cut out of a cliff, calcium carbonate deposits older than I could ever imagine, and just stared out at the ocean for a while. The sea was the most rich azure blue, with different zones of colours, regions of gems each rarer than the other, that melded in perfect harmony and washed along the sand in a playful temperament. I have seen those waves act angry, lazy, calm, and optimistic, and I know that with every change of face from our friend the Moon, they like to change as well.<br /><br />Whether it was the illness or the sheer natural beauty of the moment, I couldn't stop thinking in pictures, colours, childlike terms and poetry. I thought the forests in British Columbia were something to see, but the forests lining the area and ascending up the true mountains were lush and gorgeous, full of shade and seemingly unaffected by the heat of the day and the commotion of the crowds, a spectacle of so many environments in the same area.<br /><br />A feeling of peace, of utter contentness with the world around me is the only way I could describe what I was seeing emotionally. Rows of houses stacked neatly atop each other, marine docks, sunbrellas dotting the coastline, stores and cars snaking through the trees and hills were what brought me back to the realization that no matter how wild something seemed, there was always some touch of civilization to claim it in the name of humanity, alter it, and corrupt it to call it our own. I left the mountain and went back home feeling somber and melancholic. I don't regret my visit one bit.Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-8705245701865376692008-08-03T07:33:00.000+02:002008-08-23T15:45:44.774+02:00*CoughHACKSplutter*And so, dear journal, I have contracted an illness. How can you catch a cold when it's 40 degrees plus outside??? A silly question I always asked myself as a kid, and still use with the twisted logic of knowing a ridiculous name. There's nothing cold about a cold at all. Puzzled by my conundrum, I asked my mother, and she gave me a quick look over and sighed.<br /><br />I hadn't caught a cold. I had snagged some weird virus that was affecting nearly everyone, as the newspapers so nicely pointed out. Groaning, I slapped a cold cloth onto my head and flopped onto the couch, my lungs feeling crushed with every breath I took.<br /><br />Salmon oil, thyme tea, Bisolvon and propolis tablets are still fueling me as I write this. Madness brought on by an elevator disease, which in the evening and early morning makes it impossible to breathe or relax, and leaves you tired and worn out during the afternoon and day when it releases it's grip on you. But only slightly, ever so enough to make you angry.<br /><br />I didn't give up, forced vitamin C rich food down, tried my best to sleep, wasted a hefty amount of tissues and sulked over days of lost swim time at the beach. But the illness is weakening, I'm finally winning! I still sniffle and cough and can't breathe, but now I feel a lot better.<br /><br />Strange how something like being sick even feels different in a foreign country. Maybe factors like the climate and diet have a lot to do with how you recuperate from disease, or how you contract one. You're a lot more likely to get food poisoning due to high temperatures and food possibly going bad than get something like pnuemonia or frostbite in Montenegro.<br /><br />Waking up and sleeping at odd times is also a part of this cycle, but as a few moments ago I was wide awake, I feel sleepy once more and will drag myself back to bed and try to get some shut eye. The next few days will be hectic, but I know, there are many in the world who have it worse than I do, and so I am thankful for what I do have.Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-18743464710271557532008-07-31T15:12:00.004+02:002008-08-23T15:32:50.268+02:00Fields of Green.<span style="font-family:verdana;">I've recently been writing mostly about differences. Differences because we see similarity every single day in our lives when we are situated in a country such as Canada. Writing about the similarities would show no cultural diversity, and seem useless of one to do.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">And so, while Canada is a green country, Montenegro in many ways is much more green. Not just economically, but also in the fact that nearly everyone in a non-concrete jungle city has a huge garden or fields and tends to grow a lot of their own food and crops. Even those in apartment buildings have flowers and small potted plants creeping along their windowsills and balconies.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">So, with a large house and an even bigger two level yard, we have crops, trees, plants, bushes, and roots galore. The entirety of the land is covered inch by inch of used soil and fertilizer. Olive trees, pomegranate trees, fig trees, palm trees, apricot trees, tangerine trees, orange trees, mandarin trees, peach trees, lemon trees, and cherry trees can be found in the vicinity of my two houses here. Grape vines, watermelons, tomatoes, onions, squash, peppers, string beans, radishes, potatoes, carrots, parsley, and various sorts of green leafy vegetables and cabbages.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">The rule here is, if you want to eat it and you can grow it, you should. In fact, most people grow as much as possible of something and then sell large quantiteies of their fresh goods and produce at an outdoor or indoor market called a pijaca (a plaza of sorts, pronounced PEA-YAH-TSUH). Whatever doesn't grow in your garden, you buy from there and continue on with your life. Most grocery stores don't stock produce for this reason, unless they're a green produce store and specify in this field of work.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">In fact, you can find anything home made/grown/cultivated at the pijaca. Anything from cheese, milk, milk products, breads and pastries, eggs, fish, ducklings, little chickens, and other meat. While there still is butcher's stores and bakeries, the majority of people's earnings here are from something material to sell that they have aided in the process of creating. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">The people are also extremely friendly, and you can easily barter prices, get deals and bargains, buy bulk, sample, and make a lot of new aquaintances and connections. In a way, the experience is a lot more fulfilling than walking to your local Superstore or Save On Foods (or driving, even worse) and picking up a carton of eggs and a pack of carrots with little to no inter-action and no social time whatsoever. I wonder if there's anything like a pijaca in Canada...?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-28070638807247981502008-07-28T19:36:00.000+02:002008-08-02T22:38:14.538+02:00Snip Snip Snip.<span style="font-family:Verdana;">Hopefully I haven't scared you off with my perfume ramblings, have I? Nonsense, you're a journal, you don't get scared. I still am delving deeper into the world of perfume, and enjoying every minute of it. It makes me glad to fit in with a world of wonderful choices and superb availability here in Europe. It's perfume paradise.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Anyways, times change. And while some of my tastes remain similar, some sadly like to be sly little foxes and deviate my idea of acceptable. In other words, I got tired of my haircut. So, me and my dear auntie went to the nearby city of Bar after arranging an appointment at a well known salon. Two buses later, we hopped into a quaint looking kitschy place that radiated and oozed warmth and friendy manners.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I wasn't let down in the least. I sat, listing through magazines, wondering what I would decide to chop off, smooth out, and spike. But, as far as I will experiment in the world of scent, my hairstyles are never extreme. So I explained nicely, take two or three inches off the bottom, trim the long bangs in the front just a little bit shorter, but keep the volume. With a concise nod, the hairdresser set to work.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">With lavishly washed hair that smelled like peaches and apricots (I adore peaches and apricots), she trimmed with the steadiest and quickest hand I've ever known a person to able to do. She sculpted my wavy, poofy, and yarn like hair into sleek silky shine. It was amazing, watching her work, and I wanted to grovel at her feet and beg to learn her magic touch and techniques. Well, almost.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I left the salon 8 euros and what seemed like a kilogram lighter. I was also feeling radiant and extremely happy, having spritzed on Gucci Envy Me earlier on in the day. And that was true, I envied myself, and I'm sure some of the girls who looked over at my satin locks envied me too. The towns and cities here are much lighter in a way, less polluted from the outside world and yet pristinely informed of what they are in the middle of in.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I wandered around town, looking through boutiques and remembering the times with the satin dress and ridiculous prices of fashionable clothes. Was I ever glad my splurging days were over. I bought a cup of yoghurt and a portion of burek (amazing food that it is, phillo pastry or thinly rolled dough wrapped or layered around fillings, which can be anything from feta cheese, ground meat, mushrooms, spinach, grated potatoes, etc) and rejoiced in the moment.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">After half an hour, the heat wave started to progress, and the temperature went from the usual 36 to higher, and my poor temples were starting to feel it. I ducked in the shade as me and my auntie got a ride home from my grandfather, and vowed to explore more of the town the next opportunity I got, to fully be able to write about everything that can be found in it.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">So, maybe five back massages later and ten pretty pleases will I be able to saunter off with my aunt and continue my journey through the concrete forests of Bar.</span>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-4479107720335016032008-07-25T22:31:00.001+02:002008-08-02T22:35:41.829+02:00Eau de... Toilet? Wait, that says Toilette. Phew.<span style="font-family:Verdana;">Browsing the streets along the beach for bargains and deals is one of the most fun things a girl (or guy, not judging) can do to occupy themselves. Now while there are tons of designer ' inspired ' articles, handmade works of art, paintings, clothes and accessories, there is one market that drives everybody insane.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">No, not the questionable films and music market. The fragrance market. In every corner of a reputable shop, you will find a nice and wide selection of fragrances for you to purchase. Perfume in ranges from famous designer label creations to sickly home concotions of lesser known chemists. There's a scent for everyone. Or two. Or three...<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I was never a stranger to the world of smell. It has always been one of the deciding factors in whether or not I like or despise something. As a kid I always preferred the option that smelled better, and held my noise when I walked by trash cans. And even though I had terrible allergies, I sniffed every flower and blade of grass marginally possible, explaining my red cheeks and puffy eyes each day.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Back to the shops after a day of beach visits, you take in labels and pictures and shiny embellishments that catch your eye with the promise of appealing. ' Buy mee, you won't regret it, come on one whiff and you're gonna be hooked, I swear! ' And so, package by package called my name as I listed and breezed through boxes and glass vials.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Guerlain, Givenchy, Dior, Chanel, Escada, Gucci, Dolce and Gabbana, the list continued through ages of well known creators. I nodded back and forth, sampling Kenzo and Thierry Mugler and wrinkling my nose at Vera Wang and Nina Ricci. Sweet, sweet, too overpoweringly sticky and sugary. Oh no, don't get me wrong. I like my dose of girly... But not powderpuff cavities, thank you much. I prefer spicy and ambery orientals, bitter or cleaner gourmands, lighter and breezier florals, the odd chypre or subtle musk.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Perfume is a huge hit in trends and fashion, but it also has a huge psychological effect on people and animals. If someone smells bad, you're not going to hang around them for long, are you? Smell is the most primal attraction we have in association with places, people, things, everything around us. So a good fragrance can sometimes be all you need for a trip down memory lane, or a cause for later visits.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">And that, dearest journal, is how I became a perfumista. There's people who like perfume, and there's people who absolutely love and adore it. I just so happen to fall into the latter category, and have recently started hunting for information about how fragrances are made and their effects (psychology is a wonderful obsession of mine). How the top, heart, and base notes will play off each other wonderfully in a symphonious depiction almost like music, or will clash like banging metal pans with wooden spoons means the world to people like me. The fun has just started.</span>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-64300765179255921362008-07-22T21:07:00.003+02:002008-08-04T10:42:06.484+02:00Double Trouble.<span style="font-family:Verdana;">Hello world! I woke up this morning with a new perspective on my life, probably influenced from last night's binge of herbal teas and late morning novels. As we all know, I'm a bibliophile who lives to flip through the pages of anything paperbound. I seem to have this in common with my grandmother and mother, who both adore literature to the ends of the Earth. And so, I went raiding, raiding the bookshelves.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I found a copy of Ann Frank's diary and a book called Us Kids From The Station Zoo by Christiane F in Serbian, and read them both. It was slightly strange not reading in English as usual, but the books were amazing none the less. While the first is known worldwide and read by everyone, the second is quite non marketed, and that makes me sad. The two girls are both around the same age, though Christiane's struggles are through a longer time period as well as her less fatal outcome, and they both have the same painfully honest and moody temperamental point of view.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">In fact, the books themselves have so many similarities between themselves, and are written in such a way that I can agree with the feelings shown and sympathize with the girls, even though I am nowhere near the events happening and will thankfully never see them. Ann Frank's diary was a shocking look into the world of the reign of Hitler, even if she was in Holland. Her Jewish title gets her into a complicated mess, and a life that no one her age should ever deserve.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I was so glad that the hypocrisy of that war was over, and I lived enough of it in Ann's pages of grief, turmoil, and small joys in the cruel captive state she was in. I recommend it to anyone ages 7 to 107, who hasn't read it. Now, Christiane was in a different sort of battle. She was a young girl in Berlin around the time of 1978 who became a drug addict, and fell into the clutches of heroin. Christiane was dragged into it by her social groups, and stayed in it because of her want to be equal with a boy she adored.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Love sucks sometimes, huh Christiane? The book was a emotional rollercoaster through her self discovery and the disgusting truth behind drugs, what people do to get them, and what withdrawal from not just drugs, but everything you have ever known feels like. The two tales had the same underlying themes and made me wonder why some of us were so fortunate and abused our privileges while others had no choice but to suffer and to go through worse times than we will ever know.</span>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-24057505065981935192008-07-19T15:28:00.002+02:002008-07-19T17:24:38.606+02:00The Tide Is High.Where there is an ocean, there is always somebody swimming in it, even in the Arctic. So in a place with such a hot climate and wonderful shoreline views, obviously the beaches here are crowded and full, at every twist and turn. Even around 6 am and 8 pm, there's always a multitude of people everywhere.<br /><br />Armed with a beach bag full of towels, water bottles, sunblock, sunglasses and clothing, you start your venture down to the sandy waters. Depending on the wind, or lack of it, the ocean will either be full of waves and warm and probably full of seaweed or cold and still. The best swims are unbelievably in medium temperature and temperament waters, so you don't freeze or die of boredom.<br /><br />Once down the stairs from the beachside road and stores, you can literally taste the ocean (probably some lady's obnoxious perfume too) and the sand will feel amazing on your skin, barefoot or not. Smart people wear functional easy to undo and put back on clothes and utilize this to their advantage. And then there's some people who decide not to take their clothes off and jump in fully dressed.<br /><br />If you're anything like me, you don't care so much about what other people will see you as, and focus your time on having as much fun as possible. From running after siblings to swimming to the ferry boat dividend line, there is no time to stop and sunbathe until I'm out of the water for good and drying off. I mean, I tan in the shade with SPF 75, I don't need to concentrate time and effort on something that will happen naturally and shouldn't be forced.<br /><br />Tired and washed out (no pun intended) I pack up the towels and slip on my clothes, only to trek up a flight of stairs, and either up a steep hill to the ancient car, or walk the 15 minutes back home depending on my disposition. The car, maybe I've informed you of, is a legendary work that my grandfather has had probably since before I was born. It's been through countries and moves and illegal illicit treks of all sorts (which I'm not supposed to know about, but do anyways).<br /><br />I wish the beaches in Canada, or Vancouver rather, were as fulfilling as the ones here. I suppose I'll have to settle for what we have, but still enjoy fond memories of coastlines and painted skies back in my homeland on the side. After all, everyone is biased in thinking that where they are from is obviously better than somewhere else in the world, a little bit of nationalism and patriotic spirit in everybody. Especially if you're from a place with a gorgeous view and environment, like me. See, there's that silly little bias already. Speaking of beaches, I'm off to one right now. Toodles!Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-78644589079831665262008-07-16T15:00:00.002+02:002008-07-16T23:35:55.094+02:00The Sweet Life.As most people would know, bed time for people my age and around there is 10 pm. While our life stops there, the life on the streets is just getting started. Going out for even a walk by the beach after those hours involves a buddy or a few buddies, top notch clothing, and a clear attitude. Whether you're headed to a nightclub or just a shore line cafe, the rules are the same.<br /><br />Even individuals far past their teenage years will avoid going out alone, because company, while easily found, is as easily lost. So to ensure safety, comfort, and popularity, groups and flocks are a must. Fashionable clothing in Europe is high quality and high price, so what you wear is essential in your presentation.<br /><br />After all, in a world where you are judged by one look (possibly more once found intriguing) your appearance is what will allow you to be remembered in a positive way, or leave an impression of disregard and such on other's minds. That leads into attitude, with what kind of air you carry yourself.<br /><br />Confidence is a must-have accessory everywhere you go, especially during summer. Whether you act cutesy, sultry, charming, aloof, or even crazy, you have to be sure of yourself. My friend Marija, who I ventured outside with, lives in Britain (she comes here to visit her homeland and go on vacation, like I do) and has a lot of experience with how to act and persuade in the night scene.<br /><br />So, my knack for psychology (it was not flirting, it was psycho-analysis and careful study of human character) and her knowledge of this disco light and cocktail filled universe got us through the hours and minutes where we felt like people weren't staring but instead boring holes into us with their eyes or the moments where we didnt't know what to talk about so instead sipped at our soda water with lemon and quietly nodded in silent agreement.<br /><br />Maybe, dear journal, I'm writing myself a guide on how to lead and relive my life someday, not just a day to day and thought by thought write up and I don't even know it. Careful memories packed in scraps of paper and flitting thoughts, snatches of music that seem familiar but aren't recalled until something triggers them once again. While life progresses, the lights turn off outside and the ideas start to flow along with the drinks and shining lights.Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-27093128667746139742008-07-13T20:09:00.001+02:002008-07-14T20:43:21.115+02:00Money Doesn't Grow On - Waiiit.Montenegro happens to be a strange country in the terms of merchandise. On one hand, you have the cheap designer knock-off versions that line the streets and beaches, and on the other you have expensive actual designer fare imported from Italy, France, Britain, and other countries. You can often find the same thing, or similar, from 310 euros to 30, depending on where you look and how you look for it. So.. why pay so much for something so interchangeable?<br /><br />For starters, fashion is huge almost anywhere in the world, especially in Europe. In this area, people are usually model skinny, so they have to keep up the rest of the model image by dressing and acting like models. After all, the more you're exposed to such a factor, the more you will start picking up from it. Soon it'll invade your thoughts and drive you to such madness about it that it's all you have on your mind and start living the lifestyle that is being pushed towards you.<br /><br />The material world opened more of it's cruel petals to me earlier today, when I went shopping with a recent friend of mine my age from Britain. (Why yes, I did adopt her accent for the occasion!) With only so much allotted money and such high prices, we were wary where to drop our hard earned money and break down and buy things. Versace and Dolce tempted us, but we kept straight faces until it happened.<br /><br />In seconds, my 50 euros were gone. Hello new shiny satin and silk dress with a white background, black flowers and trim and yellow decoration that fit like a charm, wore like a breeze, and was worth every penny of the hundred or so dollars it cost. Now, people stopped and agreed that wow, that dress was gorgeous, especially on me, and it made me feel like a million dollars, until I got the spending money critique from mother dearest (ouch). This would all be fine if it weren't for one thing.<br /><br />Wait... dress? I wear dresses? Since when??? I confused myself with my new pick much more than the rest of my shorts, pants, capris wardrobe. It was almost an alien choice, like the eager look of the saleswoman and my friend's urges weren't the only thing telling my mind to say those fateful words and take the dress home. Oh no, I watched it in slow motion in my mind, handing the bills over and receiving a neat little card and bag and walking out the door feeling a changed woman. Strangely enough, I felt no regret or remorse, and accepted the criticism, slipping the dress on and exclaiming that I might as well wear it if it cost so much, after all it is summer and you wear such dresses during summer, right?<br /><br />And now, as I pat down the outer layer and fix my wedges to get ready to go out with my friend again. Ah, seaside snack bars and such await us to pretty ourselves up, put on some feel good clothes, and step out into the swarm of other people enjoying themselves when you can. You only live once, and one splurge item won't break the bank. As I have no better choice, I will stay the careful consumer I am, and carefully tread on the path of indulgence. Sounds good, now about those sunglasses by the beach...Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-79202245496555423042008-07-10T11:14:00.001+02:002008-07-13T12:02:46.224+02:00Its Hot-Hot-Hot.Well, it's gotten to the point of how an average summer day here differs from an average summer day back home in Canada. For starters, the temperatures are miles apart. In BC, we think that 30 degrees is enough for us to immerse ourselves in ice and not come out. Here, the ocean temperature is easily 30 degrees and higher, and the regular temperature is around 40 to 50 degrees, higher in some cities like Podgorica, and regulated by the ocean in places like Sutomore where I live.<br /><br />People have ingenius ways of avoiding the heat; and some methods which can be found questionable. Staying inside and finishing house work during the climax of the sun's rays, or sitting in the shade and enjoying a small breeze are the easiest. Some people go to work, or hop down to the beach and take a quick swim (too long and the UV rays will get you, even with glops of sunscreen). Fans, spray bottles, cotton cloths around shoulders, anything and everything.<br /><br />You get used to the scorching hot heat after a while, and the tan that comes even with all avoidance of sunlight and warmth. In fact, many people embrace the warmth and use it to their advatage. No, I'm not talking about ice cream vendors or water slide operators, which are pretty well off in these kind of places.<br /><br />Solar power.<br /><br />As much as we'd like to consider ourselves environmentally sound, this is only the beginning of the restorative measures we need to take. Here, electricity is expensive, so is water and internet and cable, so people do what they can to avoid these costs. Positively using the resources given to them. Solar panels installed on roofs and solar powered lights, it's a new wave in power.<br /><br />People pay less, use less, harness more, gain more, so why wouldn't they? It's an amazingly smart approach to bettering the world, and saving more money. Then, there's public transport. Your average person, any age or vitality, will walk almost anywhere. Tightly knit communities and safe streets, no drug addicts or homeless people littering the grounds. Also, buses and trains and bicycles are a cheaper and easier alternative to driving by yourself, and there's also carpooling.<br /><br />With the cost of essentials here, especially petrol and electricity, you can't afford to waste anything you have, or spend money aimlessly. Sometimes I feel awkward knowing how little the people here have, and yet appreciate it so much more, and then what we have and take for granted in comparison. This nation is happy, amidst all the troubles and wars it has gone through.<br /><br />It almost, dear journal, makes me jealous...Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-35041928303600106902008-07-07T21:22:00.000+02:002008-07-12T00:14:16.993+02:00Confluence of Sound.No matter how big the feud or dispute between two countries in Europe, they are brought together by a wonderful yearly event called Eurovision. In other words, it's a song competition where each registered nation in the continent sends in a person to sing a song and dance around and represent what their country thinks is music, and may or may not be just that. (No doubt that politics and money have a say in this, but shhh, I like to pretend all is well and fair in that which I can't change).<br /><br />And so, it starts; the mad scramble to top the music charts is off, from years of experience, plaguerism and one point differences, the battle is on. Whether a country's song is in their native language, in English, or a mix, is completely up to what they think will earn them a place in the finals. Voting takes place first by SMS or text messages in each country to select a song, and then a panel of judges from each country will give a certain amount of points to the selected songs in the official Eurovision contest.<br /><br />Last year, Serbia won, and I was extremely glad because Marija Serifovic, the singer, was one of my favourites. Since Eurovision was hosted in Serbia this year, Serbia couldn't win again, even though multiple countries and thousands of people worldwide adored Jelena Tomasevic's voice and song. Oh well, you win some and then you lose some.<br /><br />A little friendly competition tends to bring people together, and in the midst of heated rivalry, voters and onlookers share wonderfully diverse views and strange opinions that cause debate or new aquaintances. As the contest progresses, rankings shift in the blink of an eye and leads are soon lost with a new turn of events.<br /><br />And as soon as it's over, next year's contest is being prepared for and plotted for. It's a vicious circle, ladies and gentlemen, and all of Europe is hooked and tumbling along for the ride willingly. The best part is always searching up the winning songs, the songs that nearly made it, and gossiping about singers and their silly little ideas. Such is the spirit of Eurovision.<br /><br /><a href="http://cache.kotaku.com/assets/resources/2007/10/eurovision.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://cache.kotaku.com/assets/resources/2007/10/eurovision.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-1810504518759110482008-07-04T14:14:00.003+02:002008-07-12T00:13:52.425+02:00When Cleavage Comes To Mind......I think of quartz crystals. As a child, I was an avid rock collector. All shapes, sizes, textures, constitutions, origins, everything that appealed to me was scooped up and given a home in an ever growing box of my little treasures.<br /><br />Even now, I still am influenced by my childhood games, and I constantly notice certain rocks that appeal to me. Luckily, in Yugoslavia, there isn't only oceans, there's rocks everywhere. On the mountains, nearby cities, and by the seashore. And not just your usual grey, round, found by the pound stones.<br /><br />Instead, the most amazing colours and designs on structures of all sorts. It's a treasure mine sitting next to a azure landscape, and after a good swim it's back to sitting and searching. The tides wash away sand and bring them up to the surface, glimmering like jewels and lost conquests of the ages.<br /><br />The results of my labor were worth the strolls along the shoreline, squinting and tossing back rock after rock of dejected fare. So, along with fragmented sea shells, I packaged them up in a towel and brought them home, only to face a dilemma.<br /><br />After the water had dried, which in this heat is seconds, they looked bland and uninteresting. The richness of colour and texture had vanished with the moisture. Forlornly, I dumped the pile in a pan of water and sat there, staring at it. What was a girl to do?<br /><br />I wanted them to stay in their pristine state of perfection for everyone to be able to see how wonderful they were. Oh well, nothing stays beautiful forever, as so says the most basic law of nature. But then again, there was always a way to cheat.<br /><br />And so with a bright idea and free time on my hands, I grabbed a bottle of clear nail polish and set to work. The results were wonderful, and I congratulated myself on completing the task at hand. Oh bother, if only now there wasn't so many rocks I liked, and so little nail polish...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SpD3be_C-CAuMz5736jkirvsc9bOThi0xIyAr4yzkD744l-g1qlAkZcO3t3rPJqLwiUGI2s1XQqc8ah8Dp8i24mHeDcG4tovdi7OkDt1-kxKP8H3tN0qeqt8H2Wf8l0jMxmD1TZbdkVJ/s1600-h/IMAG0014.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220993722098429106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SpD3be_C-CAuMz5736jkirvsc9bOThi0xIyAr4yzkD744l-g1qlAkZcO3t3rPJqLwiUGI2s1XQqc8ah8Dp8i24mHeDcG4tovdi7OkDt1-kxKP8H3tN0qeqt8H2Wf8l0jMxmD1TZbdkVJ/s400/IMAG0014.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-4420071322926259692008-07-01T21:02:00.001+02:002008-07-05T21:38:22.837+02:00Make Up Your Face, Make Up Your Mind.My recent days of theory and mature thinking brought me to browsing through a environmentally friendly blog, and then to something that made me completely change my views in something that most live for, about the ugly side of being beautiful.<br /><br />With any normal standard of living, we're all consumers. Since most women like to shop, and shop we do, we have to have something that no matter who we are we agree on. Not all women like dresses, tanktops, or jewellery. But almost every female being with money in her hands will go out and purchase cosmetics. Face washes, scrubs, moisturizers, lipstick, mascara, magical creams and treatments that enhance and cover up our flaws and assets. While we're smearing on our daily sun protection or spritzing citrus perfume into the air, what we don't realize is everything that we're adding to ourselves is slowly breaking us down and toxifying what we are and will be. There's probably more chemicals, harmful ones or not, in your average makeup bag in a North American's stash than in our school science lab! We wear gloves and masks and aprons to work with those, using metal tongs and glass beakers, and here we are dipping our fingers and covering our faces with the very vile essences. I was taught formaldehyde was used to preserve dead bodies, not to cover clothing for a soft and clean finish!!!<br /><br />Now, where do I come into the picture? I'm a teenage girl with interest in dressing up sometimes, so naturally I'll go to a store, pick up a tube of mascara that looks appealing or promising and purchase it. And then use it. Over and over until it's gone. Seems simplistic. But, one day I started to wonder, what do they put in those products that I so eagerly befriend and rely on? I did some research, and I left the webpage disgusted, and contemplating to TRASH every single piece of cosmetic toiletry I owned. The only exceptions were the organic, cruelty free, and natural items my mother had bought. Picked out from rows of over-commercialized tubes and plastic cancer containers that lured with promises of volume, sex appeal, and fullness. They have us on a tight leash, the cosmetics industry, and we don't even know it.<br /><br />And then, there's Europe. While in North America we're powdering ourselves to our demise, our friends and my relatives can buy the same product and have no worries about side effects or poisons in their system. It seems ridiculous and all I could utter was... why? It turns out that Europe has strict regulations for all cosmetics and products meant for human use. Anything considered a carcinogen or harmful is banned on the spot, and taken out of use immediately. A database of chemicals commonly found in cosmetics also had a very interesting fact in the point that it said in America, there is a grand total of 10 chemicals banned from use in personal care products. In Europe there is over 1,100! A real eye opener and shocker. Isn't the point of testing and making products to have them be SAFE and effective? Because no matter how ignorant they take us for being, someone will find out and make a change.<br /><br />So I joined a few of these websites and campaigns and signed up for newsletters informing me of how things were going along. For now, their focus is personal care products, but the stretch of disgusting chemicals and toxins spreads to toys, accessories, clothing, even the air we breathe is contaminated. Mercury, nano particles, phtalates (guaranteed to turn your baby boys into baby girls), petrochemicals, lead acetate (completely safe, of couurse), hydroquinine, and wait... does that say... placenta? Ew. I'd rather have never found out and kept myself in the area of mindless brainwashing I was in earlier. I know where I'm doing my make up shopping from now on, good old heavy metal toxic waste free Europe. Because I can buy the same name brand make up for half the price, and less than 95% of the chemicals. A bargain in the consideration of your life.<br /><br />Use daily shouldn't be dangerous advice. So next time, before you push the trigger on that bottle, think. It won't be a gunshot, but a slow and painful death of mutation and sickness. Still want to wear any given lipstick? I salute you, and hope one day, maybe, you'll learn, like I did.Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-39405876481782440802008-06-28T19:09:00.002+02:002008-06-30T19:18:42.855+02:00In Theory.<span style="font-family:lucida grande;">At times, life feels like the stage it is misconceptually shown as. It seems as though even not narrating daily life in my head in a British accent in third person (etcetera) changes the fact that we write and speak as if for an audience somewhere. Maybe we're not aware, or not even being watched, but we still strive to do what we should do to be viewed as the character we would like to be. What brings upon our decision to become who we are? Our environment, whether mental, physical, or something in between is the greatest factor in how we develop in both senses as well. This is how being back in Yugoslavia (fine, former Yugoslavia) is changing me for the better, or so the refined judges of character my conscience and mother are saying.<br /><br />A factor of change to any individual is the ocean. As vast as it is, and as many of them as we have, none are the same. Salt levels, location, marine life, the list goes on. As humans, we are earth creatures, legs walk on land and not on water. Yet there is still hope for us in the form of swimming and div‌ing with limited underwater breathing and venture. Physically, it promotes good excercise, breathing, and muscle toning and weight loss. Mentally it relaxes, harmonizes, and is the main reason people come to view the living wonder of the shoreline. Fascination of the unknown and curiosity are gut feelings, traits of instinct that many of us lose after childhood or after being exposed to something so often that we take it for granted.<br /><br />What compels us to search for this is just who we are, and we are born and made to be. The ocean has other health effects thanks to the mineral and salt content the water contains. It restores the moisture balance and shine of your hair, skin, and nails. Medical conditions are cured or greatly aided by contact with the water. Amazing what nature has and gives us, and we ignore for special creams and chemicals and pollute later on one day. We will never realize what we have until we lose it. Maybe now I sound convincing enough of a salesman, but the point of my pondering is more along the lines of telling myself to wake up and listen to what so many people are missing, and I could be missing as well.</span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br />And so, dearest journal, I have betrayed you. It's not like it seems, you were enough for me, but then I realized how much I was missing. Words are wonderful, and so are photos, but the creative part of me couldn't stand watching the same format being typed into and altered. There's another journal. A sunshine yellow hardcover lined notebook that will be filled eventually with love. But it won't ever replace you, of course not. You are for written expression, and it will be filled with quotes randomly and cutouts from magaziness, newspapers, and anything 2D and gluable or attachable. It'll work out in the end, I promise; there's enough for two of you, or maybe you will both merge in the end to create something even more wholesome and beautiful.</span>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-84413498461813634422008-06-25T22:14:00.000+02:002008-06-26T22:16:51.615+02:00Seashide Shop Stalls & Such.If you're going to the beach, in any imaginable country, you have to be prepared. Since Montenegro is one of the hottest places in Europe, there are certain times to avoid the seashore and any broad direct sunlight, unless you want a life destined for sun caused cancer and a cracked paint palette for your skin. After all, I've been to the beach seven times, and I have a noticeable tan after short visits. The best times to go are early in the morning from 6 am to 9 am, or later on in the day from 5 pm to 8pm. Or both, if you have enough time and energy.<br /><br />Like the standards for living are different, so are the standards for shopping. What ever's trendy and high in demand is sold along the shoreline in shops, boutiques, stalls, on people's car hoods, over ledges, and even on top of boxes when a table seems to be missing. Tourism is the main factor in Montenegro's economy, and with scenery and cultural history naturally abundant everywhere, who could blame foreigners for their interest? I walked by rows of Dolce and Gabbana, Chanel, and Rinno Rossi sunglasses and wondered if counterfeit items would make their way to the stands in a year, or maybe two.<br /><br />People do what they can to make a living, whether it's jewellery, painting, knitting, or carving stone. Pearls, hematite, shells, coral, wood, metal, hemp and twine, various stones, the list goes on of what is fashioned into accessories and sold for what seems cheap for us. If a pearl necklace (naturally cultivated, but oddly shaped) is 25 dollars, we'd think it was a bargain with the prices we're used to in Canada. But for someone here, it would be a large sum of their monthly earnings, enough to be thought of as a luxury.<br /><br />As with any shopping trip, however, you have to be constantly on the lookout for good deals and sales. For example, I saw the same bag in two different boutiques; one was 4 euro and the other was 16! That's four times the price in one spot and just goes to show inflation. The shopkeepers on the beachside and market expect you to haggle, in moderation, of course. You can easily get a discount or alter a price with the right attitude and approach.<br /><br />There is a subtle art to it, and you need to know exactly how to read a shop keeper. I'd say there are only a few simplistic types, and then the complicated mixes that vary and you're better off just paying quietly before you get bitten by something and start a bitter grudge. Whether your vendor can be swayed by the following, you'll only benefit and prosper.<br /><br />' Two euro? Hmm, I saw it up at so-and-so's flat for 1.5 '<br />' Oh, there's a rip. Goodness. '<br />' Tsk, I'm 20 cents short. '<br />' Since I'm buying a few, is there a discount? '<br />' How much is this? 7 euro? '<br /><br />So, dear friends, this summer I'll be furthering my psychological practices for later on in life. Now that's an essential life skill.<br /><br />- Mirela is still pondering what to buy, where to buy it, and when...Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-14769725131919552062008-06-22T19:54:00.009+02:002008-06-22T20:34:40.143+02:00A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words.So, when you have a cute little digital camera and millions of opportunities, you're bound to snap a few photos. Today's picks are the small things in life, or things that look small depending on how you look at them. Perspectives that we see in photos and perhaps elsewhere if we try hard enough. Now then, here's four of my little escapades.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2DRuDVc_SNRu54OhEhgKhIPKIECK8Qb9EUwiJzKQClgPoQnleSUPzsHgTDIfYVgzb5MzxpweQUqOGCAK_dUgdnMfXnpZokV6JHqc5AChGuTLKVilU3Nwfd4RHK1o6PJaLrPv6DtUaYmgL/s1600-h/vintage.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2DRuDVc_SNRu54OhEhgKhIPKIECK8Qb9EUwiJzKQClgPoQnleSUPzsHgTDIfYVgzb5MzxpweQUqOGCAK_dUgdnMfXnpZokV6JHqc5AChGuTLKVilU3Nwfd4RHK1o6PJaLrPv6DtUaYmgL/s320/vintage.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214773710882048226" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This house is so old, it's protected as part of our history by UNESCO.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlBigSt5bBglB2F28iY6FTAac9wFZwQGKOpTuXmooyvezSarXqtsZor8YEbSkEYhedAmk1o75FrXw-sWxuVDFFbRSyzTzCQfYjtM9eyYoVPoULiPMvY8qsOYgsGdUP83WDjgEMQV5RbC2/s1600-h/cactusflower.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlBigSt5bBglB2F28iY6FTAac9wFZwQGKOpTuXmooyvezSarXqtsZor8YEbSkEYhedAmk1o75FrXw-sWxuVDFFbRSyzTzCQfYjtM9eyYoVPoULiPMvY8qsOYgsGdUP83WDjgEMQV5RbC2/s320/cactusflower.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214774346972729730" border="0" /></a><br />A cactus flower in bloom. They only last one sunrise and sunset.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAEMaZ5OEDD9yugIuBc85jquedqXw8EpQq33nsnX3Z9kDqWpnT6CpYOGCX7ZNVApFNBc19ntWOVwO5gBKcJSjW_Uuo0bgVpWF4CYkX3fGN1UzA6neb5bf-bQhDTvS-Dq_VgNnrNE4xNOI/s1600-h/peekaboo.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAEMaZ5OEDD9yugIuBc85jquedqXw8EpQq33nsnX3Z9kDqWpnT6CpYOGCX7ZNVApFNBc19ntWOVwO5gBKcJSjW_Uuo0bgVpWF4CYkX3fGN1UzA6neb5bf-bQhDTvS-Dq_VgNnrNE4xNOI/s320/peekaboo.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214774662819432866" border="0" /></a><br />Somebody's playing hide and go seek, but not very well.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxitVtWoKqpNrTD5f_hiLKmRse7G8OwcuAzd-AYqQ7S-NQ2NHCZcpOjoJlFYkW38O_npywDZlEXNwYMefgWCR0G2gIQT_ADZqnO2Q6kLBjm100xyAL4pXTDaFqFhb1t6SF6g8SHYg06z1/s1600-h/kittystare.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxitVtWoKqpNrTD5f_hiLKmRse7G8OwcuAzd-AYqQ7S-NQ2NHCZcpOjoJlFYkW38O_npywDZlEXNwYMefgWCR0G2gIQT_ADZqnO2Q6kLBjm100xyAL4pXTDaFqFhb1t6SF6g8SHYg06z1/s320/kittystare.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214774959966539218" border="0" /></a></div><br />Life through those eyes would be quite an adventure.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The beaches and scenery everywhere are so beautiful, and yet unvalued because of their everyday occurrences in people's lives here. So, I'll be getting up early soon when the sun is at it's best to capture the exotic snapshots that exist no where else but Montenegro.<br /><br />- Shutterbug Mirela.<br /></div></div>Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-16028576236937600262008-06-19T20:34:00.000+02:002008-06-21T20:51:41.293+02:00You Meet Different People in Different Places.I've been preoccupied these last few days, being a babysitter and maid at the same time. Laundry and squirming siblings nearly choking me, there has been virtually no extra time to get on the computer. It's sunny as ever, but recently it was extremely windy and there was even some thunder, so the electronics were powered down and forgotten until the almost-storm passed.<br /><br />Luckily, deprivation of internet has led me to have more time to do work. Fun, fun, fun. I met some neighbours of ours the other day. An elderly lady that lets me and my sister and such pass through her huge yard as a shortcut to the beach, a man who has a beautiful garden, and a woman with two kids, both younger than me. I've recently become friends with Barbara, her daughter, through written messages and hand signs. Wait. Hand signs?<br /><br />You guessed right, Barbara is deaf. She is really clever for her age, about 10, and she can be quite serious and motherly around my little brother, who she plays with but saves from trouble constantly. She can read and write Serbian, and can read lips if you speak slowly. Her mother and her communicate mostly over text messages on their cellphones when not in the vicinity and facing each other to sign, it's quite interesting.<br /><br />Barbara does have a lot of challenges in her every day life. She goes to school, but there is no special equipment or support for her at all. She struggles with anything besides written or drawn lessons, because of her disability. Just as the technology is behind here, she also lacks any funding from the government, or any chance to receive funding due to ever shifting boundaries and unwilling members of rule.<br /><br />I can't help but feel sorry for her, she's such a smart kid that could really be something amazing one day if offered the right help. Even so, she braves it with a smile, and is grateful for what she has. Now, off to put the siblings to bed, and tomorrow off to the beach for some recreation!<br /><br />- Mirela's tired from visiting family all day and yesterday.Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-182995942452600402008-06-16T20:09:00.004+02:002008-06-16T21:03:10.593+02:00It's a Rich Man's World.The days have whizzed by in flurries of drawings, chores, and work. I guess the ethics around here have rubbed off on me, or maybe they were in my blood, lurking the whole time. And the lifestyle is hardening on your comfort, but makes you really treasure what good you have in the world.<br /><br />We take things like iPods and computers for granted, when a lot of people don't have bread to eat or even a simple blanket to keep out the cold. Even those with houses and income still work to keep up with taxes, bills, and a thousand expenses every which way.<br /><br />In Canada, we tend to whine about gas prices, don't we? Everywhere in the world, everything is rising in prices and money is dropping, as economy is bound to turn. I found out something today when walking back from the store that made me shocked.<br /><br /> A euro is about two dollars, give or take a few cents. And gas is measured in litres, here and there.<br /><br />1.25 EURO for a litre of gas.<br /><br />That's double the Canadian amount (1.25 dollars or so for a litre), and we're complaining?<br /><br />Plus, the average working person's salary here is 300 euro per month. Pensions go from 50-100 or so, nothing over. Looking at the lifestyle and prices, it's scary how much people have to pay, and will because they have no other choice. Willful slavery, as my grandmother calls it. Amazing.<br /><br />- A Mirela getting up early to pick radishes and lettuce from the garden before sunrise tomorrow morning.Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4161012732301857099.post-11938325565430859582008-06-13T19:25:00.006+02:002008-06-21T20:34:22.311+02:00Ah, the Airport. How Relaxing.So here I am, facing the dread of every writer. A diary, or e-blog, as I have unearthed in our little tech-savvy world. Amazing how nearly all great things start with something you wanted to avoid in the first place.<br /><br />Once I left school, managed to pry myself from the people who clung and cried ((and made me a wonderful surprise party, I love them all to pieces and WILL miss them dearly)), it was back to packing away. In the midst of folding the last bit of randomness for my airplane bag, it struck me just how much everything would be different.<br /><br />Vancouver has what we call liquid sunshine. In Montenegro, you're lucky to find a liquid in the grocery store, maybe even the public market ((piaza)). Nevertheless, I'd miss my friends far more than I would the weather conditions.<br /><br />Back to my dilemma of planning; the flight we originally had in mind finished the half circumnavigation of the world in about... a day. Due to new regulations and customs and airplane times, our travel time was now doubled. Two days. Vancouver to Amsterdam to Belgrade (Beograd) to Podgorica.<br /><br />Well, do you know just how many people in the world are ready for a 48 hour long rendezvous with airports and planes and customs?... I'll get back to you on that. Their birth date isn't for the next hundred years or so, and I'd hate to assume.<br /><br />Excitement kept me fueled like the sleep I needed so desperately. Coffee just didn't look that appetizing, even with half shut eyelids and slurred speech. The running and jumping after siblings and stray luggage was completely worth it, in the end, as I would soon find out.<br /><br />Vancouver to Amsterdam ((the Schiphol airport. Pronounced Ship-hell.)) was the longest flight, 9 and a half hours of fun and games on a cramped plane. Once we arrived, dead tired and completely stressed, we had 6 or 7 hours to wait for our next flight. And our plan decided to be late. Sighing and grumbling, the last two planes of an hour or two each, were nothing compared to it.<br /><br />History wise, this was completely normal and usual for the Skrijelj clan. Every two years, my family goes on a summer visit to Yugosla- former... Yugoslavia to visit relatives and to remind ourselves of our heritage and it's crumbling foundations, and this second year was to be no different. Even with a 9 hour time difference between Vancouver, and myself.<br /><br />Food and siblings await me, and people who can properly pronounce my last name.<br /><br />- A moody, sleep-deprived Mirela who dearly misses you all. :)Mirela Skrijeljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567832706318549192noreply@blogger.com0