Friday, May 13, 2011

Tourist season...

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time of the year again.

It starts off small and unnoticeable, with a moose or two walking along the street. Their odd but oh-so-similar language just barely registering at the back of your brain.

It continues when you see the first bus rolling down the street merrily and get the nagging feeling of dozens of moose (meese) eyes watching you. You tone it down and carry on. At least it’s not ducks.

And then you see it, on your way to school or to the grocery store (since neither bambs nor I can drag our butts out of bed early enough to go to school together anymore) that same bus sitting in the bus parking space. It’s headlight eyes staring innocently into the abyss or something. What do buses like to look at when they are not carrying moose (meese)?

And the bus just is there. And in a few hours it will go away and everything will be just as it was.

Except not really because that goddamned bus just so happens to come back again. And it has a friend in tow. And that friend has a friend and that friend has a friend, too and so on until you are suddenly seeing meese everywhere and sometimes you catch a glimpse of a sixth toe or if you are really unlucky, you hear that godawful parseltongue.

Next thing you know that trip to grocery store turns into a fight for your life. And that pack of eggs your mother needed... You go into the store buying plenty of stuff you figure you need for the upcoming weekend and you come out of it with nothing but with the hair on your (back) head and a pack of cat food.

Which, in here, is quite the loot.

The whole season is much like herpes. It starts off slow, almost unnoticeable and you figure it’s not that bad as you thought it was going to be until it suddenly blooms into a major pain in the ass.

It’s that time of the year again.

Tourist season...



  1. Awwies, poor you. I wish you successful egg hunting for the next three (four?) months u_u

    I already left, taking not a single egg, just some gummibears and a juice. Alsooo, passed the end of your street, too. Metropolis, indeed...

  2. yeah and where do you suppose we'll have to go to to replace those gummybears and that juice?
    you owe saaremaa gummy bears and juice, youknow.

  3. Hey, if anything, Saaremaa owes ME. First, it owes me an apology letter for that nonstop rain all through Friday. Then, an apology for that insane cold and thick-beyond-thick fog Saturday night. And finally my health back. I dread the exam on Thursday because the headache with this fever hardly lets me study anything.

    Anyway - any thoughts on Eurovision? (Which I watched, wrapped in a sleeping bag with a friend, legs cramped, fog all around and freezing our butts off, btw.)

  4. XD I'm glad your trip was pleasurable.
    I, on that day, was in my home. Alone. Warm, wrapped in a blanket with a mountain of popcorn.
    Also, eurovision themed blog post coming right up after I have cleared the backlog of shit I was supposed to post like two months ago.
    Gonna be a loooooooooooooooooooong post.
    I think.

  5. Also, Saaremaa is so not sorry.