I dreamed about Eliot last night. He told me he only gets to work by bike but he does not bike back home, he takes the train. And all I could comment was "did you buy a pass?"

I just got to know that our neighbor, who owns the dog in our common yard, asked my Dad to shoot the dog. Because it would take him 6000 Fts to have it put to sleep at the vet's. My Dad refused. My Mom said the dog healed in the meantime (but maybe he wasn't sick at all!)

Uncle Zoli refused to let my Grandma go to the kitchen and cook. He is now the sole ruler of the kitchen, gradually conquering the rooms of that house. My Grandma cried on the phone, because she wants to bake cakes for the children (us), because we will go there on the second day of Christmas, as always, and she wants to bake the usual cakes. (Which we can never eat, being overstuffed by then, but still, poor Grandma.)

Oh and I went to the hairdresser's yesterday. Let's just say I did not leave the place happy. Anyway, it was a strange place. You have to go through two doors without any sings whatsoever, which means you have to know somebody who tells you where this hairdresser's is. The hairdresser is treated with reverence: he only cuts, doesn't wash, dye or blow-dry. He doesn't have to wear a uniform and makes fun of his subordinates. Example joke: "oh the light flickers when you go there because you are...haha...ugly!" And! one of the hairdresser's called Giovanni Falcone!