Surreal

Having spent the day in a cocooned state, predominantly in front of my laptop, devouring other expat women's blogs, it seemed very surprising when I ventured out today to find that I was still in Romania.
By ventured, I do in fact mean I nipped to the post office, where I was severly reprimanded for trying to use my photocard driving license as a form of ID. Not wanting to be picky here, but I'm fairly sure that if that box with my, quite unusual (and particularly in these parts), name on it, has ended up in that God-foresaken, Communist-throwback excuse for a Post Office, it was likely only to contain items of interest to the strange being in a black and white coat and limited grasp of the Romanian language. This was of course the case (thanks mum and dad for the hot water bottle, tights, gloves and teabags!).
Post Offices and I are not getting on at the moment. Since leaving Britain 3 years ago, I have a disproportional amount of post go missing, and this whether cross-channel, in either direction, or, more recently, a letter sent from GB out here. Yet I have always received all bills and bank statements and a large amount of junk. I can't even imagine where it ends up or who's responsable (although having once seen a "Dispatches" documentary on Channel four about Royal Mail I have a fair idea). If anyone does have any tips on how to stop losing post or how to, eventually, get it back (she enquires hopefully) please let me know.
After the Poșta I snuck into the bakers to get some (predictably) bread, where I was confused for a phramacist. This was a first for me but did lead to a lovely little chat with the two women there. It also got me thinking about my notoriety - the women at the pool now say "hello" when they see me (although I imagine I'm fairly easy to remember as I am one of the few people to use the pool) and the other day a man was calling down the street after me "Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle". Unfortunately the rest of what he said was completly lost due to my poor understanding of Romanian but also to his lack of teeth.
So I am becoming a bit of a local celebrity (that might be building it up too much) or at least a figure of curiosity around here.
But its a very surreal experience to know that everyone's talking about you but you can't tell what they're saying.