Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts

Saturday, April 21, 2007

I blame it on the revolutsia

I always new Friday was going to be a big day.

For starters, it was the first full day Mr Moi was home from Moscow! That's right, after being apart during my three week sojourn to Australia, I came home to an empty apartment for two weeks. But now he's returned, which is noteworthy if not for anything else but the subsequent increase in my laundry quota.

Secondly, I'd organised to meet my new bliend, sarahemily, sometime in the afternoon. What time, I wasn't sure; it mainly depended on who cracked first and demanded some Moldovan fizz and a 'thank God it's Friday' moment.

And I'd been invited to brunch. MmmMMmm, I just love brunch. I'd volunteered to make my signature* Chocolate and Banana Bread. Being my usual disorganised self, of course I left baking to the last minute - Friday morning, 7am (exactly 3 hours and 30 minutes before brunch started). You can't beat fresh fresh baking.

So the day was, needless to say, a little hectic.

At 7am, I was in the kitchen in my pyjamas, fending Mr Moi off the three bananas I'd purchased for the sole purpose of making Chocolate and Banana Bread. The bread was in the oven by 8am, at which time Mr Moi left the flat, and left me with a bag of clothes that needed to be 're-washed' (which means, they didn't dry properly the first time and thus, stunk).

From 8am, I was a good little blogger, doing my rounds with a cup of coffee. Ten minutes later it was 9:15am, the bread was burning, I hadn't had a shower, I had to hang out the washing,
and I had to email sarahemily to arrange a time to meet (with strict instructions that she was to send me a text message because my phone still does no outgoing calls or texts).

I dashed off the email, took the bread out of the oven, had a shower and was getting ready to leave when I realised it was 10am - which is the time I'd arranged to meet my friend, new-mum H, who lives a 15 minute walk away.

When I arrived at new-mum H's building, she was nowhere to be seen, so I got the lift upstairs, rang her bell, rang it again, waited 5 minutes and rang it again. Determining she must have left, I went back downstairs, where I met her at 10:30am, only 30 minutes late, which was coincidentally the time we were supposed to get to brunch.

Giving Igor the driver strict instructions to get us there quick smart (via the bakery) we set off. Igor must've listened to me, because he did a 20 minute drive in 10 minutes, and I got a five minute stopover at the bakery.

But the time we arrived at brunch, we were a little out of breath, only 15 minutes late, and really bloody hungry.

Cut to two hours and 45 minutes, two babies, one pie and lots of coffee, toast and muffins later...

Igor knocked at the door to let new-mum H know he was here to pick us up. We bustled off into the car, tried to drive down one street, only to find that it was shut - protesters. So we headed up another street and drove along for a while at about 5 kms per hour. My phone rang and I scrambled to pick it up, and that's when I saw the text message waiting for me. Don't have time to read it, must answer phone...

Of course it was sarahemily. She'd sent me a text, which I hadn't read. It had told me to meet her 1:30pm, which was 15 minutes ago, near the revolutsia action, which happens to be halfway between our two flats. I assured her I was on my way, I should only be 30 minutes late, so I'll see her in 15 minutes.

"Do hurry," said sarahemily. "It's just started to rain and looking at the protesters is losing their novelty factor."

Roll forward one hour, three cut-off streets, two protester camps and one more phone call from sarahemily. As Igor manoeuvred the car close to new-mum H's building, I flung the door open, took a rolling dive from the front seat, landed on my feet and started running to where sarahemily was waiting.**

I reached the rendezvous point in record time (14 minutes as opposed to 15), and saw someone waiting around the corner. As I walked around the corner, I was shocked to see sarahemily had a beard, wore cargo pants and had a penchant for Doc Martens.

Then a text message came through on the phone. Oh, she's gone into a shop, so cargo pants wasn't sarahemily at all. And I can't tell you how happy that mades me feel.

So, we met. One hour and 30 minutes late. After I caught my breath, we toddled off to MegaMarket, where security had shut the gates and were only letting people in one at a time - and only if they weren't carrying a flag.

We invested in some cheese and fizz and hightailed it back to my place, past the 10 smelly portaloos that were on the street to cope with 1000 protesters with normal bodily functions. We enjoyed our Moldovan fizz... but I can't help feeling awful for keeping my new friend waiting 1 hour and 30 minutes.

I blame it on the revolutsia.



* Well, Bill Granger's signature dish. Close enough
** Made up, of course. I don't even bend down to tie up shoelaces, let alone jump out of a moving car

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Lurkers...

They're everywhere. We all have them (or hope we do!)

Guess which of the following two lovely faces is a lurker?

The lurker is the one who won't comment! Or! maybe she will now... (after all, she promised).

Are you a lurker?

I'm a lurker. I lurk on Ree's blog. I don't even want to be a Pioneer Woman reader; being an Aussie and all, I root for the underdog. (Did you like my use of the semi colon there?) But she's just so damn engaging with her so-called 'good' photos and 'yummy' recipes. It's irritatingly entertaining...

Here's a funny lurker story for you.

I always look at my stat counter. I'm reassured when I see people from home visiting. Except, in the past week, there's been this person from Ukraine who logs on for like, 10 hours at a time. I was getting a bit paranoid - is someone stalking me? Does someone here hate what I write? Should I close my blog?!

It got to the point that I checked everytime I walked out the door to see there was no one waiting there to berate me for my blog. Then I realised... the IP address... it was mine.

Duh.

Here are some other random thoughts for the evening:

Before I left Australia, I read the book Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer. It's set in Ukraine. The movie (of the same name, directed by Liev Schreiber and starring Elijah Wood) is a little more straightforward and just as enjoyable (even though it was filmed in the Czech Republic, hrmph).

The music, story and acting (especially Eugene Hutz's acting and his Gogol Bordello music - he's my hero) are all fantastic. I recommend watching the movie, and reading the book if you have the time and inclination. Personally I watch it every now and then and it helps me with my Russian (there are parts in Russki with English subtitles. I'm understanding more and more).

Did you know the name Liev (as in Schreiber) is spelt the same in Russian as the name Leo (as in Tolstoy)? The true transliteration of his name into latin letters is 'Lyev'. And, with the streets and squares named after him (Tolstoy, not Schreiber), it then changes into 'Lva Tolstogo'. Yep, Russian is a confuzzling lingo.

Another random thought: if there is a sound that I identify with Kyiv, it's the car alarm. There is someone who parks their car near my apartment, and I can imitate the noise off by heart. When I visited Almaty in Kazakhstan, I heard the same noise and felt right at home.

One day, I hope to record it for you. But I fear I'm so used to it, I'll never get there in time.

Besides that, there's not much more to add tonight...

PS Welcome to my first visitor from Afghanistan! I don't think this blog will help you find Istanbul Salsa though...