I'm restless.. I want changes and more changes while I don't even own my time.. This isn't my tempo, I can't wait to live my life and that's just what I'm doing. I KNOW the "live-in-the-moment" drill, it works for about a day, and it works a whole lot better when money's no object. I anticipate too much, I need to anticipate, to aspire to something..something other than cleaning up puke and punching the clock day after day after day..I love the baby. I like work enough. But I feel imprisoned in this mind-numbing routine. I have NOTHING ELSE at the moment. Blogging is an easy escape, a sublimated cartoonish life, it thrives on voyeurism, vanity, vulnerability.. A blog is not a diary. Diaries aren't for display, much less debate..
To be continued.

Freaky Friday

fallen angels

posted by Maja

On death and sprinkles

There's something called "courtesy cart" at the hospital I work in. Whenever someone's determined to be dying and not to be resuscitated (terminally ill, hospice patients that opted for hopefully more peaceful, dignified end), a cart appears outside their room, draped in white linen and stocked with coffee, muffins and cookies..for the family and visitors of that patient. As sweet as this gesture is, its eery to see this "messenger" pop up in a hallway. Something rather cynical about it. Hey, we know your mom's dying, have a muffin, on us. I don't know..We're sitting at the station charting, cracking jokes, and its right there, this death tray, with its almost celebratory birthday buffet feel, Mylar balloons missing. That's just crazy.

yammm...

ANATOLE UPART

My husband's art..

http://www.uturn.org/Upart/

http://www.artsmuggler.com/gallery1/pages/

OLEG LEDNEV
http://finerworks.com/gallery.asp?U_ID=lednev1
My dad's amazing works..

My city of angels

I need a good book and some quiet contemplation..I need something..a break from mindless blogging, for sure :)..more money, more time, more space..ok, good book it is..though I can't help but feel that one day I will strike gold and live in comfort and luxury I so desperately crave. I'm hopeless :)

Speaking of oddly touching..

Cheers ! I miss these folks..they're all over now, lost touch..

stolen from NWO.

its mesmerizing..isn't it ?..:)

I'm coming home..sometime this summer

10 things most people don't know about me, in no paricular order of lunacy..

1. I can't be beat at ping pong
2. I'm happy (really, I am )
3. I'm a huge Sheryl Craw fan
4. I have no tail bone
5. I was in a threesome
6. I love everything Martha
7. I worship my skin
8. I had a bizzare crush on my nursing school teacher, a large, middle-aged angry woman
9. I once ate 2 pounds of beluga caviar in one sitting
10. I am deadly allergic to mustard

A fortune cookie promised me an unexpected encounter today. It turned out to be this horrid looking racoon-eyed alcoholic patient with lice and infectious diarrhea. Confused and unsteady, he kept getting out of bed and each time the bed alarm would go off with a "take me out to the ball game". Fuckin cookie.

THIS is the one thing I look forward to on a day like this. So simple, yet completely unattainable for god know how much longer..

posted by Sabsilma.
too cute..
btw I got tulips on my table shade of pale dusty blue..never saw those before. I usually like'em pure white..

A sure way to suck the life out of life is to analyze every fart to death. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. To hold on to pent up anger, too. Reflect without regressing, love without possessing, give without second-guessing :) )) ..and you shell be blessed. Today I'm blessed :)

Географический кретинизм, образное мышление, или ох уж эти сказочки.

Мои пробелы в географии и неспособность ориентироваться в пространстве непостижимы уму. И нет, нельзя всю жизнь винить в этом пневмонию в 3-ем классе и сучку географиню невзлюбившую меня с первого дня. Это болезнь. Ментальный блок. Обладая общим кругозором городского европейца, я понимаю в целом, но не врубаюсь в частности. На карты смотрю как на картины -- красиво, рельефно, живописно и хорошая цветовая гамма. Могу повесить на стенку как декор и изучать перед сном какой-нибудь Буркина Фасо. Та же карта в машине вызывает временный столбняк. Компас люблю как ворона блестящую пуговицу -- завораживает, блестит стрелочками. Пошлите меня куда-нибудь на юго-восток и я никогда не вернусь. С северо-запада. Посылы к озеру понятные каждому жителю Чикаго приравниваю к посылам нах и очень обижаюсь. Как я так дожила до своих 39 лет и не исчезла бесследно в том месте где кончился бензин -- загадка..Это с детства. С того самого момента когда в мою неокрепшую психику проникли загадочные сообщения и мифические ориентиры оставленные повсюду Великими Совковыми Богами. Где-то там, между "Пока мы едины-- мы непобедимы" и "Руки прочь от Анголы !", география перестала быть таковой и плавно перешла в эпос всех времен и народов, реальных и фольклорно-сказочных. Монотонное бурчание диктора про конфликт с Мальвинскими и Фолклендскими островами транслировался в моей голове в поруганных мальвин и злых артемонов, республика Чад в дымящуюся коммунальную кухню, сектор Газа -- во что-то из Беляевских ужасов про жидкий воздух..Больше всего будоражила "гонка ядерных вооружений" (ядра -чистый изумруд..это еще как сюда попало..). В этом чувствовался порыв и олимпийский дух, как в метании ядер на олимпе голыми греками. Добавить к этому мою любовь к чтению всех подряд вывесок по ходу автобуса/троллеибуса/трамвая.."пиво-воды-бакалея-галантерея-детский мир"..ГОЛЫХ но вооруженных буденовцев на подступах к Октябрьскому Залу.. страшных, косматых каменных баб с серпами/венками/мертвыми младенцами..идолища языческие, языческим же огнем освященые..Культ Войны. Культ Смерти. Мой зародившийся где-то там фетишизм -- белые гольфики, синие юбочки, прямые коленки, вынос флага под барабан, равнение на знамя..Физрук кончал в пол, я точно знаю. Kакая география/топография с такими ориентирами. Транспаранты. Неизвестные солдаты. Мемориальные доски, пентограммы. Номера домов от балды придуманы, С ДРОБЯМИ. Налево пойдешь -- не дойдешь, направо пойдешь - пропадешь, позади -- Москва, впереди -- трава, на траве дрова..Дворы темные, все по кругу, кольцами, над головой смыкаются..тупик. Тут и послышится из грязных подъездов, шепотом: "Вы и убили-с..". Тут и не такое послышится. География -- это банально, нужен элемент неожиданности, адреналин знакомых знаков в незнакомых местах. Заблудишься -- тыщу раз, соскучишься -- никогда. Я вот скоро домой пойду, надеюсь доеду :)

THANK GOD FOR BARNEY

unbelievable. googled my old address in Russia and voila..

a long lost friend. lost to petty passive-aggressive assaults that only women do to each other..too bad

just found a pic of myself at a party in Boston while googling a long lost friend

Hate to be cornered :)

recollection

More crap from the bogus captain.
Found this, a diary entry from 3 years ago..

"Funny how things are..I'm loosing sleep over a phone call. A casual message left on my mashine and, just like that, you're back..uninvited, unsurpassed, and larger than life. It isn't new, and I accept this intrusion like I accept a scar on my wrist, I take it in knowing this will soon pass and, like a virus, lay dormant in me..untill you call again.
You know I'll never say this to you. As long as we don't name it, I am one of your worlds and you're one of mine. What are we, anyway ? Friends ? Friends don't give me chills..
Your calls don't leave me guessing anymore, I expect nothing. It's your voice that still gets me, bringing back restlessness and daydreams. It cuts deep into my mind with images of us, of the past we never saw quite the same way..the one that haunts me and makes you feel uneasy. I won't say it..I will live out my wildest dreams without you. Without you. I really miss you now..At times I wonder if I haven't dreamt it all, but then you call me. ."

Time

On my trip to St. Petersburg, Russia in 2003











TIME
"It's been ten years. They say one can't enter the same river twice, yet tonight I find myself going back in time, to the world where time had no meaning, where voices carried long over hot tin roof tops and sweet brier filled the air on a sheer summer night. The sites and sounds of city that eludes me to this day.
I open the gates and walk into an old school yard. Graffiti-covered walls, rubbish, hopscotch chalked into asphalt..no one here but stray cats. I sit on cold steps and light a cigarette. Whatever possessed me to come here so late..An old song runs through my feverish mind, over and over, I say the words out loud and the door slams in the wind. Time's got nothing on me..I'm home.
My old house -- ghostly and surreal in the night, back windows broken, stairwell lit up by a lonely light bulb. Going upstairs, my footsteps echo and I pause, overcome by visions and tears. Time. I feel it now. It's in these very shapes, shadows, scents. Time is a dusty oak tree peeking in, a name carved in the banister. Ten years gone by. Time is staring at me through a shattered window..
My door at last but I won't ring the bell. I won't disturb this great slumber, for I am sure now that one can't enter the same river twice. I run out and don't look back. These crumbling walls will no longer keep me safe. I leave behind a lost world, a time capsule never meant to be opened. No pain, no scars, but a mark left..and then I'm back, knowing life will never be the same again."

Here's another blast from the past..A few years ago I was really into belly dancing, or you might say really bored and looking for some cheap thrills..and thrills I got :) Again, no escapism here, all true, all me, all the time :))) The picture is of another dancer though -- mine were all destroyed in a fury by my ex..
"...A long-haired woman in her 40s shows me dance moves in the basement of her house. Just the two of us, the floor's cold..I pay her by the hour. She's gypsy-like, feminine. She danced in Cairo. I watch her hips thrust in rhythmic circles, her face lit up , gold bangles flying up her arms..A Goddess, powerful and elusive, a glimpse into divine Womanhood that shatters my fragile androgynous ego..What sweet pain this is..She puts her hands on me and I melt..Our bodies move in sync, music gives way to steady drumbeat, steady, then slow, then up again..Possessed by an unknown pleasure, I submit to her voice, her knowledge, the sheer ecstasy of our dance..
I go home past ten, trembling, elated, and aching all over. Tomorrow I'll go to my Chinese masseur and he'll put me back together with his chanting, candles, and warm oils..I'll lay there face down...exhausted, exasperated, thinking what might all this passion bring me next..."

Krakow. Foto by D. Abezgauz

Why is that I look at any random pic of old Europe and think "home" ?..after I've lived in Chicago for over a decade. "Home" is where I'm most comfortable, after all..and that's Chicago. But who wants to wander Michigan Avenue unless they're on a shopping spree with soon to be ex-husbands credit card ?..:)

I can find comfort in convinience, glitzy industrial charms of American megapolis, its chain book stores and starbucks and SUVs..Its a living :) But its hardly home. Home needs ROOTS. Roots take time, history, layers of life and death to sustain new growth..Home is a Family Mansion, century-old oaks, gorgoiles and ghosts and all :))), not a shiny new penthouse..but that is highly debatable..:)

There's this huge chunk of life I store in my "saved" file..one hell of an affair to remember. Its just there along with all kinds of odds and ends -- I was writing "posts" before I knew there where blogs :)..I guess I will start putting them out here, where they really belong.
This was lived and written on this very day 3 years ago..

"I am spellbound. An unexpected glimpse into the world of beautiful visions and profound thoughts.. you exploded in my mind in a myriad of gilded shards and I am bleeding now, humble and quiet before you. I am taken over by our fleeting moments together and sheer poetry of our letters. I am free-falling.. "

and then 6 months later..
"the sketches...wish I could rewind back to a quiet afternoon when I first set in front of you.. and there was music and light and peace.. with your eyes on me, darkest and deepest I ever saw, I never wanted it to end...For the first time ever I felt complete.. then I took a big chunk of my life and blew it up to pieces. Watched it die.. and something in me died with it, and something else came back to life.. but through all this I remain spellbound ... "

I now know why I blog. Last night I was desperate to confide in a friend and realized there's no one I know disent enough to keep a secret and not make my life into a gossip fest for the next party..Ironically, I'm better off venting in cyberspace.
I'm just so fucking lonely

Happy International Woman's Day !

Started by feminists last century, this is still a big deal in most Eastern-European Block :)...On March 8th, you get flowers, gifts, compliments and a break from chores..for the rest of the year -- you're screwed..

So far I got roses, chocolates (from a Polish patient..), a few calls and text-messages, and lots of red apples shaped into a big heart on my kitchen table..:)

Here's to Woman's Day every day of the year !

My superstitions actually do work. I have this silly notion that whenever I hear Sade on the radio -- its my good luck charm and a sign that whatever I'm about to embark on will go well. Sure enough, as I neared the hospital today anticipating my performance review and a likely reprimand for my tardiness and blowing off meetings, there she was .."this is no ordinary love..." I smiled my best smile, marched into that office and came out with an outstanding review and a raise. I'm getting me an amulette with her pic on it, the woman's my guardian angel :)))

Andy Goldsworthy

Andy Goldsworthy.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andy_Goldsworthy
Since I first saw "Rivers and tides" I am forever hooked on his work, himself, his increadible nowadays gift of looking and SEEING. Pure, magestic, raw. LIFE. IS. BEAUTIFUL.

Chocolate will always love you back. Just discovered dark-chocolate covered almonds. Its a good thing :)

its snowing and windy out, baby just fell asleep..I got tonns of housework and my mind wanders..endless daydreaming and chores -- why, I'm a regular Cinderella these days :)..If only I'd make up my mind as to what it is I want out of life ..I seem to have it all but not at once :) Thus, between all the men I've dated I could have made a perfect one -- smart, funny, tall, rich, easy going, sexy, crazy about me. I had time and money but no real family, I have family now but no more time or money, and with the grass always greener on the other side I'm never really satisfied.. Is it so unreasonable to want it ALL ??..

Husband's in Verona now with his son (his vacation, I went to Mexico in February..) I've been there 5 years ago and absolutely loved it, its medieval charms and flocks of nuns and pigeons and the best gelato I've ever had..