When I say too much

I was thinking if I should share what happened to me yesterday, and today while driving to work I decided to do so. I know that I say too much quite often and I apologize to all of you who think that my comments on your blog were harsh. But I meant only good by writing whatever I had written.
I was very surprised to find out that Holly from decor8 deleted my comment on her Haus Maus blog. I am not that kind of person who would pretend that I like something that I don't and I also tell so. You won't see it written WOW! if I don't really mean it. My comment on her post was that she should simply look at some other smaller shops to find what she wanted to have. If I didn't have below average wage, I certainly wouldn't buy all my furniture in Ikea when there are so many wonderful shops in this world with more quality stuff. And Hannover in my opinion is not a small city, so I suppose the choice is huge. Never mind, nothing is wrong if someone decides to delete my comment but I only wonder - do people do this so that their blog would look prettier, nicer, friendlier? To make them look superior - you know - to look that they always choose the best of the best?

It is 10 September approaching that is also why I will share this story with you to show you who I really am. A Slovenian, obviously sometimes a bit too harsh to people of other nationalities, because we are a kind of a mixture of Italians (temperament and loud) and Austrians (cold, serious, tidy) but above all we are still Slavs (friendly, homey, hospitable).

So, on that September day in 2001 I was standing with B on Denver airport to check in for the flight back to Venice in Italy (via London) from where we traveled by train to Ljubljana. We were there very early, the only passengers to check in at that time. When we handed over the flight tickets and passports to a lady clerk, she looked strange at us and after checking something on the computer she wanted to have Italian visas from us. We couldn't believe our ears! In whole our lives we never needed a visa to travel to Italy. Never! And now some lady required it from us. At first we were friendly, explaining to her that we don't need one and that we had flown from Italy to get to the USA and nobody had required anything else than passports from us. She was firm in her decision to see our visas. It lasted an hour of arguing, I wanted her to call our embassy but she refused, to check if she didn't mix us with Slovaks but she refused. She was almost crying. Lucky for us, a man clerk came around then and the woman, on the edge of tears, telling him how rude and harsh we were talking to her, told him the story. I didn't think that I was rude, I was just talking and persuading her that we do not need any visas to travel either to Italy or the USA. I wasn't shouting at her or telling her bad words, I was just in a bad mood and very serious at that time. We both were, although B is the friendliest, calmest, nicest person I know. That man simply told her to let us go. I had Indian spears with me and nobody bothered about them at the Denver airport. I had to check them in at the Heathrow airport because they looked dangerous to the clerk. You know what happened then - exactly at the same time that we were flying from London to Venice, the events of 11 September happened in the USA.

So, this is a story about me, how I can look (or be?) rude and harsh to some people. I guess Holly thinks the same too, me being some impolite woman from some (whatisitcalled?!) Balkan state. Anyway, I am very proud to be a Slovenian and a European at the same time.

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On the photo: we call this bread žemlja (pl. žemlje) (my dictionary says that they are called rolls in English and die Semmel in German). I baked them yesterday and they came out quite delicious. They were made and baked in one hour which was really quickly.