When Olga met Vlad

The previous story was how Vlad described to me the meeting between him and Olga (they decided they were gods in their own little world, which, although beyond the 'conventional' world, is still subject to and dependent on the latter; so we might call them demi-gods).

I recently met Olga and she gave me her version of the event. I know I might be taking liberties by publishing it in this way, but in the grand scheme of things, I think she might forgive me, something she is very good at, although it occasionally takes a while.

Here goes her version, then:

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On Punctuality. Else, when Olga met Vlad. Part I

When Olga saw him walking around the one that turned out to be the second floor (a tag on the wall read ‘level 4’), according to him, she was furious. She had been wandering around the library for an hour with little success, involving people she barely knew in her search. He had said 9pm, she started searching at 9.15 -she thought ‘at least one of us has to be late’; little did she know that the Old Italian flaw had reached the green lands of Bavaria. Vlad was late, she was angry for no reason. She was surprised of her own reaction while he looked like a 5 year old boy that had been caught doing something he was not supposed to. ‘You are amazing, I can’t believe it’. He could not believe her reaction. She could not believe he could not believe it. He could not believe he was justifying himself to her. She could not believe that yet he had chosen to do so. A hot chocolate settled the dispute. Will either one of them learn the lesson? God knows... and it's written in the creamy yellow sand of a beautiful beach in Paradise, else, in the temporary absence on earth of such a place, East Sands will do.

Olga and Vlad met on the 5th of May. Despite a first very abusing show, they realized they could both benefit from being ‘sort of friends’, probably siblings in a previous life. Eight days have elapsed since they got introduced to each other, 12 to go till the end of something.


On punctuality, part II

Punctuality is not a matter of being there when the clock reaches the set time. Punctuality is a matter of luck, punctuality is a matter of being in the right place at the right moment, because a moment later could not give you as much as the one before. Punctuality is not only about crossing the street when cars will not run you over. It’s not even about getting to a meeting five minutes early. Punctuality is a risk; it’s a ‘what if?’; it’s a choice to be made step by step, knowing that at every step something unexpected and yet pleasant might happen, hoping that unwillingly someone will cross your way and walk along for a while. What if this will never happen? What if, despite living in the same tiny town, Olga and Vlad had never met? Life would have pursued its own goals as previously set, punctually, perhaps according to the schedule of those who live the ‘here and now’ as a daily appointment, but still punctually. Punctuality can simply be the fact that they were there, not even acknowledging the existence of the other, but open to the unbearable number of possibilities that the ‘what if’ carries along their paths. They were very punctual in that sense, lucky in another. Whether Olga will learn her lesson on punctuality or whether Vlad will learn to be more immediately affected by situations as this one only God knows. Time shall have the last word. The world is a small place, so what if…?

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When Vlad met Olga

They only met five days ago.
Immediately after being introduced, they started abusing each other. For about an hour without stopping. Partly as a way to entertain their mutual friend Jane and partly as a disguised, but obvious expression of immediate affection.

Today they had their first domestic.
They went for a coffee in the afternoon and then loosely (only 'loosely' in his interpretation, as it turned out) arranged to meet for a break at 9pm somewhere in the library, where they were studying. He went for a drink with a mate of his at 8pm, which took longer than expected. His phone was dead.

When she found him walking into the library at 10pm, she was furious.
Later on in the evening he found these eMails:

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From: Olga
To: Vlad
Date: Fri, 12 May 2006 21:24:45 +0100

right! i cant find u so u better find me,i m sitting on the same floor where u
were b4 in one of the big tables in the middle!!!!actually could u come
downstairs if u see this????
what is the 2nd floor??where's west????
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From: Olga
To: Vlad
Date: Fri, 12 May 2006 21:42:36 +0100

Right, that's it i just cant find u!!!!where da hell r u????i cant believe how
big of a hassle is to find u every time!!!!i ll just go bk to my seat, on the
floor where u were sitting at the beginning, right in the middle on one of the
big tables...come get me!!!!
x:-?
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From: Vlad
To: Olga
Date: Sat, 13 May 2006 00:52:39 +0100

My God! What a day!

I so enjoyed getting to know you a little more at our early afternoon coffee break and was glad and astonished about how well we got on, considering how little we know each other... I have thought of our sudden friendship as being like a little world in itself. It's different to the world we live in here, it's outside it, beyond it. We're both European and I haven't had a 'European' friend here for a long time. There's just certain things that you would understand about me and how I do things that British or American people wouldn't understand. And you have an immediate, a passionate and spontaneous outlook onto life, which I like a lot.


.... but now you're mad at me and you will never want to make an appointment with me again for fear of me making you feel stupid AGAIN, waiting for me!

I know we've been joking a lot, but from now on I shall take you quite a bit more serious, at the same time as you will try to take me less serious - that'll be an interesting contrast. I hope we can meet somewhere in the middle... and have a hot chocolate or maybe even a cup of Hedgerose tea. And guess what: this time I'll be there. AND on time, too.

Good night, my dear Olga.

-- Don't be mad at me, it's not worth it. --
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An alternative title for this silly story could be "On punctuality" or "Lessons to be learned from being late".
Whether Vlad will learn his lesson on punctuality or whether Olga will learn to be less immediately affected by situations as this one only God knows... and it's written in the creamy yellow sand of a beautiful beach in Paradise.

Report No. 037

Three days ago there was a whole horde of lovely french guys in this garden. They laughed at the hoovers standing around between the dandelions, while drinking tea and coffee. The living room is still exactly as it was when they were all having breakfast in there... the little bits of potato from the 'spud-gun' are still lying around on the beige carpet, the crumbs of bread are still on the table, the slippers Cassius borrowed are still under one of the many chairs, unorderly dispersed around the room.
There's still mushrooms in a dirty dish in the kitchen somewhere with some bread crusts. And the black pudding in the fridge - I simply forgot to make it - I'm sure they would have loved it, but now nobody's going to eat it and it'll probably just sit there until it goes green and white, at which point either Chris or I will hopefully chuck it.
On the more appetising side of things - my room is tidy and I've washed all my clothes.

at the end of a Wild Party...