Embassy French Embassy in Sofia ... sometimes I went there - during the Christmas holidays, birthda

On 20 December ... From "word newlook for word" Sylvie Vartan
Seven years it left his native Bulgaria, ten years later recorded his first song in Paris ... star Sylvie Vartan, who know all along "Cloudy le white," wrote his exquisite, filled with common sense and shiny just like her confession ! Poignant pages of our homeland, sprung from the pen of the stage Enchantress conquered France and the world still in the 60s of the last century newlook as "hierarchical yeh girl" will undoubtedly excite all Bulgarians, newlook but will show us how in a free society a girl from a modest family of immigrants can make a career, merging with the cultural environment of a great country. Here that Sylvie Vartan is already among us forever thanks to this book
Absence Absence is unbearably cruel for those who remain. In everyday life it is the worst. When a man loves some people feel they need to have it. Because my craft often traveling newlook and being away from my family. More than sixteen'm getting somewhere. Yes, I have chosen your work, I like to be on tour, to travel the world, but the moment of departure is always extremely painful for me. As a tear. Echoes of my first great departure towards France. After many ways, swivels and fears my parents had received all the necessary documents to leave. There was a big day. The whole genus is poured on the platform to send us - my grandparents, newlook aunt and uncle Andre Mia, which quietly slipped some food in the bag mom. I was so excited at the thought of boarding the train that never sees. Cabin empty, I adjusted the it my doll Franset, everything I liked my mom just shuttles between the window and our seats, adjustable wicker chest and our things. But suddenly the door clicked and I do not know you or my father and my mother newlook pulled me to the window, suffered me that way to say goodbye. In this tense moment of feverish fuss I made their absence, I was elsewhere, and here it is in a cloud of smoke and roar of departing newlook locomotive see grandfather, whom I have not farewell, whom I have not kissed you safe, looked while we waited. My grandfather, my dear childhood friend, who with the sound of his accordion me onto the music that I tore pears from the garden and gave me his Swiss crayons ... barely newlook breathing, running after the train, his face bathed in tears , the glass is between us, my eyes stare at his and I understand that you will never see it, I want to call him "I love you", but the words glahnat in my throat. The train accelerates move, here we do not see it. Did not tell him "goodbye".
Accordion My first musical memory is peculiar sound of accordion grandfather - that was the instrument newlook of the men in our family, my father and my brother also played. Whenever our friends newlook invited my father sang and played the accordion. So I get very sentimental when I hear the accordion.
Loving Of course, the thought of each first word is the verb "love", which relate to the country, with tenderness, with all the feelings. To love is fiery, strong newlook blood, but also refers to the longevity and depth of feeling. Really love to be maintained, but it should not be turned into a burden! If efforts are needed, nothing happens. Opposite temperaments can act to attract, but genuine love only if we feel from a dough.
Alfa Romeo My first car was very cute, zelenichka, Austin Cooper, one of the first, frightening her liked her, but the car that I'm sorry and that I preserved among all that I had was a Alfa Romeo Giulietta newlook with hood, beautiful bright red there were the spokes of the wheels - to faint!
Embassy French Embassy in Sofia ... sometimes I went there - during the Christmas holidays, birthdays of the daughter of the ambassador, Francine. According to my present she had everything, toys dream lived in a gorgeous house, I thought it was hers. I was invited to her birthday days - has magical holidays, was unfamiliar fruit lollipops, clowns, real performances in the gardens of the embassy. Christmas in the living room they put a huge tree there first reciting a poem in public. I boarded the impressive mahogany staircase against seated guests at a height almost newlook equal to the tree. I was six and recited "department pastirchitse came" ...
I remember I was sorry for not playing a real pieska some other children. I felt offended, reiterating that it is not so interesting, it does not matter, however - what a surprise! For the first time I clapped. The memory is indelible in my mind. Stairs, steps and rants - with