Heraldic SPB

Ste-Geneviève-des-Bois

Amazing photo tour of the famous Parisian cemetery, a final resting place for many Russian royalty and "boheme" in exile..I never made it there while in France, so this is the next best thing..

random

A few little disappointments, a few high hopes, a day gone by. The most futile search is that for truth, especially to those who can't handle much of it. I'm glad it isn't me this time. Just selfishly gleefully slap happy not to be burdened by such crap. Life is inexplicably good when you realize you can keep both feet firmly on the ground while your head's way up in the sky. Discoveries of the day:
1. I can bullshit my way through anything.
2. I have a lot of bullshitting to do..

Tavrichesky English Garden

Every corner there I know by heart..almost drowned in that pond too. Magical place, my mistery garden.

St Mark's Square, Venice

Never ever wave bread crumbs in front of an army of street smart pigeons if you're not wearing long sleeves and a hat. It only looks like fun, I had scars for a week :)

To own beloved self

Mayakovsky, 1926. Larger than life, still.

Six.
Ponderous. The chimes of a clock.
“Render unto Caesar ... render unto God...”
But where’s
someone like me to dock?
Where’11 I find a lair?

Were I
like the ocean of oceans little,
on the tiptoes of waves I’d rise,
I’d strain, a tide, to caress the moon.
Where to find someone to love
of my size,
the sky too small for her to fit in?

Were I poor
as a multimillionaire,
it’d still be tough.
What’s money for the soul? –
thief insatiable.
The gold
of all the Californias isn’t enough
for my desires’ riotous horde.

I wish I were tongue-tied,
like Dante or Petrarch,
able to fire a woman’s heart,
reduce it to ashes with verse-filled pages!
My words
and my love
form a triumphal arch:
through it, in all their splendour,
leaving no trace, will pass
the inamoratas of all the ages!

Were I
as quiet as thunder,
how I’d wail and whine!
One groan of mine
would start the world’s crumbling cloister shivering.
And if
I’d end up by roaring
with all of its power of lungs and more –
the comets, distressed, would wring their hands
and from the sky’s roof
leap in a fever.

If I were dim as the sun,
night I’d drill
with the rays of my eyes,
and also
all by my lonesome,
radiant self
build up the earth’s shriveled bosom.

On I’ll pass,
dragging my huge love behind me.
On what
feverish night, deliria-ridden,
by what Goliaths was I begot –
I, so big
and by no one needed?

Window, SPB

posted by storcys

SPB, bits and pieces

Vegas

Roaming gnome part 2, Curacao

Boo

Rivers and Tides

The Fortress Aquamarine..sweet !

$14.500 cheesecake, anyone ?..the bling comes with, 80 carat aquamarine..

The Roaming Gnome

While in Russia, found a stack of prints from my however brief travels around the world..made my day as I thought them long lost to ex'es hacking my e-mail and subsequent loss of all my photo files..So, if you aren't sick of seeing me yet, you soon will be, as I scan and put them here, hoping it will prompt me to plan a trip somewhere soon..

channeling my inner Rachel Brice :)))

Yours truly, some time ago, shaking it up , practicing, in the most rediculous get up, but hey, it jiggled and jingled and thats all you really need :)

A fortune cookie said to listen to friends for a great advice -- and for once I will :) I guess I am going back to school in about six months when Boo's old enough for day care..As a lazy ass procrastinator I hate it, but I hate to miss another chance even more..PS Thanks for your support, guys ! There's this new nurse I work with who's been a great resource and keeps pushing me to go for it -- she wants a degree so she can open a nursing home for the poor in India..I just want more money :)

Contemplative

If you build it, they will come...

god, what a blah day, blah week, boo's sick, i'm getting sick, bunch of lunatics around me, i need a change of luck, soon

Bye, Yukotan

In Dean's wake..Me, in Cancun, 4 weeks pregnant..I miss that time

Absence

I speak to you over cities
I speak to you over plains
My mouth is against your ear
The two sides of the walls face
my voice which acknowledges you.
I speak to you of eternity.
O cities memories of cities
cities draped with our desires
cities early and late
cities strong cities intimate
stripped of all their makers
their thinkers their phantoms
Landscape ruled by emerald
live living ever-living
the wheat of the sky on our earth
nourishes my voice I dream and cry
I laugh and dream between the flames
between the clusters of sunlight
And over my body your body extends
the layer of its clear mirror.

memento more

City Morgue

Snake Charmer

So much for stereotypes. The best belly dancer I've ever seen is stick skinny, short haired, american, and goth :))) None of the fat ass arabic disco shit. This is the real snake charmer, or rather, the real snake :)
I miss my classes if only for a chance of a lesson with her :)..

Rachel Brice. Amazing

Well, well, well..When you build something up till the world is not enough -- consciously or not, it's likely to come crashing down and smack you on the head..good riddance, I can think clearly now..for now.

Brain Droppings

Nina, love the new look and the Carlin quote --I'm a HUGE fan, own all his stand up routine ever taped and his books :) I'll post my pic with new shades shortly, since you asked :) Its D&G aviators..

Haunting me, still..

Retail therapy

Nothing like brand new Dolche & Gabbana shades to make my day. No, I can't afford them, yes, I had to have them. Somebody, stop me !!! :)))

posted by sir_mmu

Kaka

As part of potty training showing Boo that kaka goes down the toilet..Looks down for a sec, mezmerized. Then goes "bye-bye, kaka !"..and blows a kiss :)))))...I'm on the floor, laughing...

Frank

There's no particular reason for this recollection, other than the conversation I recently had with someone who's into Latin social dance, and this memory came up, a moment shared with a man I lost touch with now. His name was Francisco, one of the residents I worked with, a man on a mission, to charm the pants off of me. Full of himself and seemingly desperate for attention..my kinda guy, usually :), but with my marriage on the rocks, he just wasn't worth the trouble. No one was, yet. I remained miserable but allowed myself no affairs, it was just too much to contemplate a double life when I could barely deal with what I had..So, escapism as my motto, I'd try anything money could buy to forget that I married a bonified asshole. Extreme fitness, exotic spa treatments, A-list restaurants, clubs, drugs, booze, countless men around me..I didn't sleep with any and bought nothing I could keep, which I sorely regret now.. but my conscience was clear and my imagination wild, so I allowed myself little adventures..like going on a date with a gorgeous Colombian medic 10 years my junior who had a huge crush on me..He went through my locker at work and found my scribbles on belly dancing..lost sleep for a while and sent me mushy love letters. Me and my girlfriend laughed till hiccups.. And then there was Frank who'd beg me to go salsa dancing with him..Dancing was his thing, aside from practice, he spent all his time in clubs, which I thought sad and pathetic for a grown man..Until one night after an ugly fight with my one and only I stormed out and on a whim decided to actually go. He was there alright, with a bunch of other docs I knew. He saw me and jumped off the bar stool, smiling like a maniac. I though of leaving right away but it was too late, everyone else was greeting me..So I stayed and had a few drinks, I thought his stare will burn a hole through my top..And then came the dance. I don't know what it was, salsa, mambo, reggeton..I couldn't do any of it before OR after. The music grew louder, the rhythm, soft and relentless, gathered strength..Honestly, I had no idea how GOOD this was going to be. He was amazing, and he made me move in ways I didn't know I could..I tried to talk away the awkwardness.."Easy, Frank, I'm vulnerable..".."Don't worry, you're safe with me !".."Too bad..".."Do you wanna be safe with me ?..".."I..I don't know.."...but the awkwardness was long gone, we danced with such ease and passion, smiling, steady, looking into each others eyes..one would think we've been a couple forever. The closeness, the heat, the absolute perfection of our bodies yielding to each other ever so gently..In those five long minutes I fell for him, lived a lifetime as his woman, bore his children and died happy, holding his hand :) And then it was over. We actually got applause, and just stood there for a while, swaying slightly, as if drunk. And then the bastard spoke. I don't remember what he said but it was all wrong. Something about going home with him. The thrill was gone and I wanted him gone as well. Wasn't his fault, there was just absolutely nothing left for us after that dance, except, maybe, a cigarette :) But he didn't smoke. And I had to go home to make amends with my husband. And so we went on, feeling strange about each other for a while, but never shared a moment like that again.

Things I've given up on, so far.

1. Learning to ride a bike
2. Winning Mega Millions
3. Parental control
4. Living in exile in Curacao
5. Good night sleep
6. Mastering basic geography
7. Owning a share on a Magellan Cruise ship
8. Having Johnny Depp's baby
9. Blogging for living
10. Getting an engagement ring.

Do you have a song you cried, laughed, made love to ?..here's mine, oddly enough..:)

At the end of the day..

I'd be nice to check all these off..here's my crude inventory of must haves..
1. Healthy boo.
2. Healthy me.
3. A man to love and a few to like.
4. A day off. Way off.
5. Money, enough to burn.
6. Home by the sea, but LM will do.
7. A good book.
8. A good drink.
9. Live music, often.
10. Live friends, more often.

Freaky Friday !

Lena's Day !!!
I'm listening to too much Johnny Cash, getting all wise and sappy.
No, just sappy :) I'm off to do NADA all day, it'll be beautiful !

Spellbound, still. Love you, baby.

http://www.gallery213.com/artist_pages/painting/A_UPART/a_upart_frameset.html

bad hair day solutions

NWO, I thought of you often while in Russia -- you would've gone camera crazy there :) The women are out of this world, tall, slim, hot pants and micro-minis are everyday casual wear, full make up and 4 inch stilettos just to go grocery shopping, these girls are unreal :)
And they're lonely :) Gotta be. Modern Russian men are hideous..

I am restless and I can't, can't talk, can't freely write it all out. If at 35 I can't bring myself to say -- fuck it all, this is my only life, I will live it as I wish, when will I do that ?..
Yes, everything is fine. Everything is terribly fine.

Ingmar Bergman

R.I.P.

uncomfortably numb

Nina, no dragons slayed..I think I've become one, though :)

in between

"only if I could feel the warmth
and not the pain"
Carson, my pockets are torn..:) I have officially lost my head, my heart, my sense of self. Or rather found it and had to leave it at the gate at the last minute. Anyways, I'm back, and I'm lost here, it'll be a while..it'll be ok when the pain's gone, I didn't know I have such deep roots..I didn't know I can feel so empty and still go on.. live and learn, when will I learn ?..

pic by GISS 1585

SPB

"One day people of St. Petersburg will wake up and see it's gone. Disintegrated into thin air, like a dream, a vision. And only the Horseman remains on the Finnish swamps, on his feverish, tired, beat horse."
Dostoyevsky

I'm leaving in two days. Of course I'm not ready. I'm never ready to go anywhere and that's just how I go. Never dressed for the weather, accident prone and always getting lost -- its a miracle I'm still around.. I go back with much trepidation, my ties with that place are not reliable, and every time I return some major life change knocks me off my feet. Still I keep coming back or rather fate keeps kicking me back there..Its as magnificent as ever and corrupt, nothing to be taken at face value -- you must decipher this city to survive. I've seen friends turn into depressed alcoholics and infantile derelicts..some are dead already. SPB's beauty is intoxicating, disarming.. Let your guard down and it'll lull you right into its timelessness. Time means little there. Like any great necropolis, its tuned only to its own phantasmagorical rhythm..As for mortals -- tough luck figuring out directions, street numbers, schedules -- no rhyme or reason whatsoever. A fortress, it still has that military feel, almost prismatic in perfect geometry of its palaces and canals,  replicating in perspective, their cold grandeur only enhanced by decay..Paranormal and grotesque, its a sharp contrast with the rest of orthodox Russia, and for all its beauty its as cozy as a crypt for some. All for good reasons. People tend to disappear, it never gets dark at summer, while the rest of the year is cold, damp and gloomy gray, driving up vodka sales and suicide rates. There are black holes at every corner, endless court labyrinths leading nowhere, all kinds of bottom dwellers lurking in the dark..This is indeed a twilight zone. Built on a whim of a mad czar in a stretch of wetland deemed most unlivable -- it has seen it all, the royals, the lumpen, the nouveau riche, inspired great minds and great turmoil. Russia's IT place for two centuries, its glory days now well behind it. It has taken on a life of its own, oblivious to les miserables that inhabit it. Poverty is striking, never mind the tourist traps -- dive into a labyrinth off the main street and you'd think you stumbled at a demolition site. People still live there, in completely walled off courtyards that never see the sun, live there like moles..They get by, with lots of booze and trademark black humor. They're tough. This cradle of chaos will only seize to exist if flooded by gulf, as it often has been, but I'm starting to think it undestructible. It only changes names, detached and invincible, floating well above here and now, shrouded in fog, an old Flying Dutchman, destined for eternity. And it's taunting me with memories.. I look back and my heart sinks, and I want desperately to embrace it, breathe in its salty air, touch my hand to granite pavements, run it through wroth iron gates, wander into its sleepy gardens once more....nod to statues and angels and pigeons..
peak through an open window, stairs winding down..
step lightly..
its likely
I'm caught in the middle..
a spell,
a riddle.
read it
or
beat it.
I'm
coming
home.

happiness is a warm gun

Was told the other night that I am inherently an unhappy, negative person not capable of enjoying myself. Ouch. Coming from someone who once claimed I brought happiness back into his life -- puzzling, at least..And you think you know someone..I didn't protest, it'd be silly, to yell back with fury about your happiness :) It did leave a bad taste and it still lingers a bit, it sucks to be reduced to a label..but I'm ok. I know happiness all too well, I count my blessings every day no matter how tough it gets, I have moments of bliss each and every day and I LOVE life, can't get enough of it, I always did. I've been happier, and I've been unhappier..I'm not selfless enough, I guess that was implied..Too bad. I'm tired of being demonized every time I dare say I'm sick or exhausted, I'll just keep it to myself and my blog :) Sorry for bad chi :))..

Once a Wonder Woman, always a Wonder Woman. 55 is looking good.

angel on a bottle

I'd like a swig out of that thing, looks promising :)) DT is so much fun

good morning

of no importance, just needed to be said, skip ahead :)

I've been thinking about my ex lately, not that I ever want him back, but I'm starting to see some things differently now that there's enough time and distance between us. I'd divorce him all over again but that does not change a fact that the man is a fighter (even though most of his punches aimed below the belt..) and a survivor, and I do owe him if not respect then sympathy, afterall. I did fall for him, head over heels from the first sight --and for the first and last time in my life..other men kinda grew on me over time..It took running into him on 3 different (and bad) dates before we actually spoke. For the record, my "dates" usually meant a dinner and a movie..I was getting over this huge affair and couldn't quite let go..and didn't, for some time --my new love turned out to be friends with the very man I was trying to get over, even resembled him..I sure know how to hold on to my problems :) Later he said he'd never had the guts to approach me if we didn't literally bump heads at a rock concert. All wrong for me, he was just all wrong, period, and I knew it right then but it was too late. Too long, too.. I just spent a year waiting for someone who was never coming back, I couldn't stand being alone and he was the first guy I didn't have to talk myself into. He was awkward, and dorky, and trying way too hard, but somehow it all worked..The guy I briefly dated right before him adored me, had tons of money he couldn't spend on me fast enough, smart, funny, with great friends..sent me buckets of roses every day for a week (one had a paid ticket to Vegas in it..) when I stopped returning his calls --never got past 1st base. THIS joke of a man, flat broke math student with no green card, no manners, no sense of humor, no common sense, either..he shows up and boom, I'm in love. That's one of the things that brought us together -- no common sense. I had none in relationships, he just had none. He was very book smart, very type A, and at war with what seemed like the whole world -- his college professor, his family, his roommates, his ex, even the clerk at Blockbuster :)..that should have been a red flag right then ! Nope. Didn't see it, didn't want to. I got me my tragically misunderstood mad scientist and he became my latest and greatest project before realizing that I myself had become his trophy... And in five short years I've created quite a monster. The rest of our live together resembles "Sleeping with Enemy" except he didn't beat me unconscious and in many ways owed me his new found "fame and fortune". There was absolutely no way to get through to him now, he was full of himself and impossible. He was loyal, even loving, in his own suffocating way, but I couldn't stand the fighting and the anger and the sheer deviance of his ways anymore. Tried to leave him once -- he turned to mush and promised to change if I stay..and I did, tried to leave him again as it only got worse -- he got seriously sick and I stayed to take care of him, tried to leave when he got well -- and he made it hell but this time I left for good. I've done my share of wrongs, but this isn't about that, his or mine..His amazing ability to work beyond hard and adapt and thrive where everyone else would just shrivel up and die -- this is what still blows my mind. I still don't know anyone as determined and hardworking as him yet so confused and vulnerable, poisoned for life with envy and greed..except maybe myself ..I still miss him too, though I don't love him anymore, he took a lot of me with him. Here's to perspective, to "time heals all" and to letting go. I hope his millions will buy him some happiness and peace, and I hope for my sake that happiness and peace are possible without the millions :)

On missing and reminiscing

My favorite walking route along Nevsky..SPB circa 1900, note the tram :)..

Klava

Long lost college friend who just popped up in LA. And apparently in Paris right before that :) I missed her here but will track her down back in SPB..I'm all about lost and found, looks like..Life is good.

The trams are gone from SPB. Trams to Petersburg were like gondolas to Venice. What a loss..This will change the city even more. I used to live by tram depot and every day at 4am they'd start, when one turned the corner the bells would go off and the house shook and the lights flickered all over the walls..And I still loved the trams :)

Well, its official. I'm off to St.Petersberg July 7th for 2.5 weeks. Hoping for the best but ready for anything..On completely unrelated matter -- I'd readily switch with Paris and do a month in a poky in return for her fortune..easily :)

Blackberry Boo. Be afraid. Be VERY afraid :)))

Flashback from 4th grade, courtesy of some SPB photo blog.. This yard's adjacent to my old school and on my way home, a 30 min walk used to take 2 hours as my best friend lived right there and we'd chat in front of those gaits forever..and then I'd go on to my bus stop which I'm sure will pop up somewhere soon :))) All these signs..I'm being stalked by memories. I fear I'll go back and this third space will just close in on me, forever..brrr.

MAN..WHY CAN'T THIS BE MY LIFE ?!..:))) OK, I'm allergic to cats, lets just say that's why..right.
About the Author: Carolyn McFann is a scientific and nature illustrator, who owns Two Purring Cats Design Studio, which can be seen at: http://www.cafepress.com/twopurringcats. Educated at the Rochester Institute of Technology in New York, Carolyn is a seasoned, well-traveled artist, writer and photographer. She has lived and worked in Cancun, Mexico, among other interesting professional assignments in other countries. Clients include nature parks, museums, scientists, corporations and private owners. She has been the subject of tv interviews, articles for newspapers and other popular media venues.

Boo's on hunger strike all day. 2 bottles of milk and a cracker and that's ALL. WTF. She had her shots yesterday, maybe that's why..otherwise being her usual playful self. I lost it at breakfast and let out this blood curdling scream, scared the hell out of myself and her..All those years holding a grudge for mom making me eat and here I am, a mash monster yelling at a toddler. Nice. Wanted to take it back but alas..Felt awful, thank god her attention span is still short..took her for a walk and she was kissing me all the way there..

This is what I know..its actually 3am, summer white nights, only in SPB, only in summer..

Russia I've never seen. SPB is absolutely and utterly unrussian, no wonder it's been resented by the rest of the country ever since it was built.

Spent two hellish days going from ER to the orthopedist after boo took a tumble off the bed and hurt her arm -- the wizards in ER tortured us for 4 hours and said there's a fracture and to keep the arm immobilized till we see the doc in am..HA. Tell this to an 18month old who won't stay still even in her sleep. Next day we have to wait till after 5pm to be seen and ply her with codeine but when we finally get there turns out there is NO fracture, just a slightly dislocated elbow which this godsend Patch Adams pops back in right there and then and in 5 minutes we're all back to normal..Oh, boy..what's next ?..Whatever it is, as long as its not with boo, I can take it, I know that much.

http://vaga-land.livejournal.com/123294.html

hairy scary wonderland complete with rabbit holes and dressed up frogs and mad hatters..time for tea :)

Ms.Mamma -- for you, and may life take us everywhere we want to go, while we still want to go :)

Nina, are you messing with my google ads ?..:)))

"Henry and June". I saw the movie before I read the book, both courtesy of my then lover, the only man I was truly obsessed with, though it was never about love... Anais Ninn's affair with Henry Miller is as intense as it sounds and Uma Thurman is absolutely brilliant. Nothing glorifies sin quite like this combo. My life has not been the same since :)

Things I will never understand, in no particular order..

1. Not wanting to travel and experience new things. I once heard a woman say she'd stock up on canned foods before going to a foreign country just so she can continue to eat "American" (or her sorry version of it..)

2. Michael Bolton.

3. Child abuse. Mortifies me.

4. Anyone so desperate for approval they compromise their integrity and boil over with resentment when people don't fall for their phony "generosity"..the really screwy manipulative ones with their Cosmo-borrowed ethics that readily and prudishly judge anyone not primp and proper enough in their book and label anything they fear or can't comprehend vulgar or dysfunctional. I understand vain, I certainly understand insecure, even bitter and confused, but I don't understand deliberate annoying arrogance. Although I bet there's plenty of people that will say I fit that very description :)

5. White Chocolate (its not even chocolate, and its vile)

6. Fake flowers. Even in cemeteries.

7. That motorized scooter thing that slowly drags itself while you just stand on it. How dumb.

8. Hairless cats.

9. Russia now. Or ever.

10. Baseball.

Found ! Real life Cinderella !!! It is, after all, possible to have it all..(although she might be dumb as a door nob but who cares ?! ..) The one, the only, ever so beautiful Natalia Vodyanova..from rags to riches and on top of the world by tender age of 25..Born in Russian equivalent of a Detroit ghetto into Russian equivalent of trailer trash (wife beater drunk step dad, retarded siblings, shared flat in projects, the whole nine yards..), this delicate flower blossomed right through the turds and into covers of Vogue. Married her prince, too, a British baronet and a real estate mogul who worships the ground she catwalks on. She is now expecting her 3rd child. Now THATS a Happily Ever After !

In rare (and soon to be gone for good) moments of peace and quite I try to process all that's happening, not even trying to keep up with it, just dodging the bullets and bracing myself for whats to come soon..A complete uncertainty. Everyone in my family got ill to various degrees over the last few weeks, I can't but secretly dream of some drug-induced sleep myself..Its hard to come to terms with, but I guess my luck indeed has run out as far as "having it all". I still have my baby, my health and my looks (for a few years maybe..),but I'm sure as hell not meant to either be rich or free -- I had my run with it, it came at a price I couldn't live with, time to let go, cut losses, and assume the position. I'm being totalled by the worst case of "American dream" -- I'm now looking forward to getting a house I can barely afford even deeper into the cornfields of Midwest suburbia, some shit hole with a dreadful name like Waukonda where I'll spend my long bleak days driving from home to work to Wallmart (what else IS there ?..) trying to make ends meet, debt piling up, I'll be alone all the time, get fat, and old, and bitter and will go into shock accidentally stumbling over my old travel pics..Why is life dealing me blow after blow ???...Haven't I been through enough already ?..I always worked hard for everything but I would always get what I want, eventually..not anymore, my luck has run out for good. I am so tired, tired of life, at 35, and I imagined I'd just be starting now..god, I need a break..

Piter

City of Thousand Statues, part II..
I imagine they all come to life in full moon and hold elaborate tea parties in Hermitage :)..

Every once in a while my husband just mixes up whatever's on our walls, for an ongoing exhibit or just because..Right now his most magnificent large paintings decorate a tiny hallway of his parents flat..it makes no sense and I miss them..I miss him too..wishing he was back home and well and we'd be watching Frasier reruns at 1am like a couple of geeks that we are. This quote caught my eye today.."We exorcise the demons of others to placate our own"..how very true. I should let the stranger demons be, luckily I'm pretty comfortable with my own, they're house trained by now and don't make me into a sociopath.. I miss my friend.. we used to poke fun at drama queens of both genders till we couldn't stand it, we were terrible, especially to men :)..f I guess friendship, like poetry, can't be too calculated and polished, you really have to connect with someone, accept them, rough edges and all, love them for them and let it be known, not just because they make you feel great -- you can't "dose" your affection and praise and dispense it like a biscuit every time someone jumps on your cue, its insincere and offensive, and people feel it, everyone knows when they're been used or patronized, no matter how you sugarcoat it..If its too conditional, no one needs it, it isn't love, its bargaining for control and affection and that's pathetic..Thank god it didn't get that way with us, we just parted ways unable to weather the drastic changes in both our lives, I do miss her though..

Here's my last week in a glance..
1. Family crisis in Russia
2. Family crisis here
3. Some issues resolved with both -- still flying out there in a month or so..this saga's far from over and it'll make or break me..
4. Husband had surgery today, he won't be able to pick the baby up for a month..he's staying at his parents now to recover so Veronika won't jump all over him, instead she jumps all over me.
5. On the way home from the hospital had a fender bender with my poor sick hubby hunched over in pain..
On the other hand..I'm alive and well and I do get things done and it feels good.

Few random thoughts..I've picked up this paperback novel (there's a "book club" at work, believe it or not..in addition to coffee club :)), hoping no one will catch me with it, for it looked to be a book equivalent of "Star" magazine..AND I CAN'T PUT IT DOWN ! It's "Running in heels" by Anna Maxted, I love it ! I find a lot of myself in it, my many selves rather that changed over the years..I can so relate it's pathetic. I don't feel all too original now, but the validation is worth it :). Though I'd probably think it cheap if not for its British flare and humor. It would be "Sex and the City" all over again, and I OD'd on that one till I couldn't stand it..Anyway, it's a riot.
Today heard someone say dead seriously they got gastric erosions from swallowing a loose tooth crown and it scratching the stomach. Had to keep a straight face on and even sympathize. How do I do it, I don't know :))..
I'm a voyeur, always was..I wrote here about it. I can't help but peek in the windows and see what's cooking and how they got the furniture :) I often have dreams where I'm invisible and go door to door wrecking havoc :)) And even one where I'm locked up at Whole Foods at night and go crazy in cheese isle :) Browsing blogs feels the same. I mean, I'm here for me, and I enjoy this space, yet its a thrill to open new blogs, some feel like exotic escapes, some like dorms, others like crime scenes, there are ones that are Pandora's boxes where suddenly a rotting corpse falls out of an adorably decoupaged closet..It takes all kinds. It blows my deviant mind :))) ...

I remember this too well, I was lovesick, ditching school, watching the water for hours..Spring fever :)..I am blessed..blessed to be at peace and not chasing some imaginary demons. How do people live with a notion that the world is out to get them ?..what a curse..what a waste.

existential

I'm at work, at break, chomping on a dead woman's muffin, again. I had received a dead patient today, the poor thing went right on the change of shift, bless her soul, and I got stuck with a heap of paperwork and post-mortem care..As huge as death is, the System will shrink it to fit its files and process it into a perfect little package, tags on toes, sealed, delivered. The bed's not cold yet but already assigned. Nina, you're very right to note that in the System, people are but specimens. Guess what, so are the caregivers forced to deliver, maintain volume, numbers. Exceptions are rare and not covered by HMO. I've been through it from both ends and can sympathize with both parties..the System won't work any other way, its too huge, the wing span's too wide, no one knows whats on the other side of the wall and the margin of error is humangous. Its all tasks, shifts, turnover. Its monster-high tech and it'll suck you in its centrifuge and spit you out with the same damn itch and a bill to boot. We're all nice, caring people here, we mean well, we're just trying to keep up and hold on to our jobs..all in the name of good buziness and allmighty dollar..sad. Happy Nurses Week ! Don't anyone else die on me tonite..LIFE. IS. There, think positive :)

SOMEBODY STOP ME !!!
This german coffee's laced with speed, I swear..There's a floor full of nurses running like mad..I just changed 3 IVs and looking for more..Gotta get some for home :)

As a shamelessly self-absorbed and shallow narcissist (that only poses as an angel of mercy by day), I often dream of great fortune :)..These thoughts lazily floated into my head today as I was getting a long overdue pedicure and contemplating world domination, as usual..
Here's what I'd do if I suddenly struck gold..
1. Quit work
2. Get pregnant again
3. Take care of my family and few close friends
4. Buy a lakefront Mansion with a beautiful garden and a wine cellar
5. My husband's own gallery and a print shop uptown
6. Go on a long European tour with husband
7. Hire help so I can spend time with kids and not worry about chores
8. Hire a personal trainer, a beautician, and a masseur
9. Buy that damn Armani already..
10. Buy a classy luxury car
11. Collect Russian art and antiques
12. Go out a lot -- theater, art galleries, museums, fine restaurants
13. Spend winters in Caribbean with kids
14. Catch up on my reading
15. Procrastinate
16. Donate to church and hope for the best :)
And, as I'm coming smack down to Earth, I will most likely splurge on that massage and quite possibly get pregnant, but I will never ever catch up on my reading :)

Ever notice how ridiculous the wires and banners look in old european cities ?..What fits right in in NY or Tokio is an eye sore here..

"Mary, take the child, the river's rising
Muddy water taking back my home
Won't be back to start all over
Cause what I felt before is gone.."
I usually have a pretty good sense of what I would like in a place, so when 2 years ago me and my husband decided to go to New Orleans (about a month before Kathrina), I was ecstatic. I so loved the idea of New Orleans from everything I've heard, I was sold on it already. Well, as far as expecting good times, my sixth sense was off on that one, WAY off. It might have had something to do with the fact that I was in my second trimester and my hubby doesn't drink, though there was more to it. I want to try and recreate what I felt there, as I have never ever felt this way about a place, and I've been to some strange cities before, not to mention growing up in the strangest of them all..This isn't "prose", its merely a recollection..
It was hot and humid, not in the nice Caribbean breezy way, but more in a sauna atop an open sewer way. The spring was in full feverish bloom, flaring up allergies we never knew we had so bad we could barely talk between sneezing. The air was thick with smoke, spilled beer, and some kinda sickly sweet concoction..basically, there was no air. We stayed at the prized French Quarter at a friends "summer house" which was a euphemism for a gaudy moldy love shack with its centerpiece of a high and DAMP bed drowned in red velvet pillows. Scented candles galore round the bed, bath and freaking beyond. The windows were painted shut..No air there either. We'd wonder the city in a midday haze hoping the festive mood of countless drunken others would rub off on us, to no avail. We were sober, sick, poor, and looking for fun in all the wrong places..The highlight of that day was an afternoon siesta in our repugnant retreat when after we finished making love (we had to pass the time somehow..) the street erupted in cheers and, as I stuck my head out, a full blown parade marched by -- horses, big band, beads, silly hats and.. dead serious faces. It looked like they're off to sacrifice the drag queen perched atop a cakey float. I scooped up the beads and wished I could down a hurricane or two..
Next day after a breakfast of buttered grits and fried eggs and bacon we decided to venture out of touristy Quarters and explore the famous old cemeteries. Must have been all the cholesterol plaguing our brains. We got there all right, gleefully chatting each other up, completely oblivious to a change of scenery as we went..My husband's quite a history buff, it's pure pleasure to explore museums and anything of historic interest with him, such as a cemetery full of nobles, so we took our time and the sun was out when we left, alone, on foot, an hour walk away from Quarters. And then it hit us. Broken glass everywhere, abandoned houses, cars, filth, creepy looks from the project windows..it was a war zone, a ghetto so blood chilling spooky we almost marched back into the cemetery. A police car cruised by. The window rolled down and a big black cop took a long look at us, idiots. "Tourists ?.." And as we frantically nodded, went "Good. Now get the fuck out of here, FAST". And at that point we ran. We ran as fast as two white people (one pregnant !) can run. Later found a note in a local tour book than one should never visit that part of town unless on a guided tour..
Day three was full of indigestible food and a few surprises. Thus, my husband bumped into a charming acquaintance of his -- a punk girl that studied art with him back in Chicago and now lived here in one of the abandoned buildings. Imagine a very dirty Barney in leather skirt, dreadlocks and Doc Martens, she was a joy, smart as a whip and certainly one of a kind..The local market with its alligator-on-a-stick, turtle jerky and souvenir voodoo shrunken heads proved too much for my pregnant metabolism, as did a sight of big fat flies circling a heaping plate of famous beignets at an equally famous and crowded local coffee joint.
Then there were the museums, with their provincial art, recreated parlors and trinkets and sad tallies of many many many deaths..too many for such tiny a city. There were blown up period photos of flooded grave yards, dead and dying children, quarantined hospital wards, typhoid, yellow fever --that, mixed with the occult, voodoo, slavery. And it dawned on me then just WHY New Orleans with all its garish glory just wasn't getting through to me. Its aura was still that of death and disease, it was everywhere -- stifling, suffocating, oppressive. All that jazz..and "I see dead people".. :) No wonder the "ghost tours" sold out like hot cakes, those were real ghosts, I bet, they're on payroll there :)) But seriously..I was mystified at how uneasy I felt in Big Easy. And then there was the River. The River I'll carry in me, always, grateful, and at a loss of words to do it justice. It is truly amazing for a foreigner to catch a glimpse of this Mark Twain's Great America. The city's long dead, but the River is still larger than life, in all its might and splendor. Can't put this in a museum. Can't contain it (obviously..). Slow and steady as its undying blues, it will be there long after the last Mardi Gras.
Interesting after-thought-- my beloved St. Petersburg is too built on swamps and mass graves and saw more blood shed than a small country, and it too used to make me anxious and physically sick, I had the worst asthma which resolved itself completely when I moved here. St. Petersburg, with its ghostly pallor, its dark labyrinths, and its Dostoevsky, and New Orleans, all flushed with fever, with a sacred River running through its decomposing flesh..

Farewell, Maestro..

ala_ina (ala_ina) wrote,@ 2007-04-24 20:55:00

Начало было здесь, а вот еще один отрывок, жалко концовку придумывать лень
On the day in question, as McMillan was busy searching through folders covered by a thirty year supply of dust, the mime was lazily promenading down the street in the general direction of a Sunday newspaper and a cup of coffee. It was one of those early-spring mornings, with, as the streets were filling up with people rushing off to get an early jump on the day’s tasks. Jack and Jill went up the hill. The waifish barista from the coffee-shop down the block was chatting with the flower-shop owner, swapping the latest of the day’s gossip -- the two of them trying to out-banter each other in that underhanded reference-infused trivia-rich chitchat, accessible only to the town’s baristas, flower-shop owners, dog-walkers and waiters.
Walking slowly down a crowded street at this hour of the day, the mime was forced to eavesdrop on the conversations of passer-bys. He tried his best to block them out, but words were swarming in the air, attacking him from all directions. A couple to his right- A big black bug bit a big black bear; a family on his left - made the big black bear bleed blood; a group of kids up ahead - Betty Botter had some butter. These words, constantly chewed up and regurgitated by others, have been dumbfounding him for as quite a while by now and possibly were even somehow responsible for his choice of an occupation. As far back as he remembered he could never understand why for instance one was supposed to say “hello” before “good-bye”. “Could I thank you get some change?” and “Oh, no thank you, do not please me” made as much of a sense as the other way around. “Goodness” never felt all that pleasant, “darkness” brought to mind ducks, drinks, and various other trinkets. This absence of unity between the predicates and their objects has eventually forced him to take a stand against engaging conversations beyond when it was absolutely unavoidable. In his everyday life he easily got by on two-three non-essential phrases and at parties his verbal contribution rarely went beyond “It’s a nice day, isn’t it?” and “Nice to see you again”, -- most of his acquaintances so used to this that they had no problems carrying on the conversation on their own. And yet, despite his seeming disinterest in communicating he nevertheless felt an urge to speak, to feel the words in is mouth, to taste them on the tip of the tongue, to finally find the perfect one. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night, almost able to touch it, only to have it slip away at the very last moment.