Saturday, July 23, 2011
It has been a year since my 1st post.
So, I will re-post it, along with some statistics...
the very first post
Make no mistake about it, this blog is a mental masturbation. A place to complain and whine and satisfy oneself. A place to write and feel good about yourself. To feel fulfillment. Accomplishment. Like what you do (write) matters.
Maybe a few lost souls will wander in and leave their spiteful comments, along the way. Please do. No censorship of any kind allowed on my territory.
I apologize for all the negativity I might pour in here. In real life, I am quite a happy person. But again, mental masturbation is not a public matter. It’s what one does in private behind the lock doors and closed curtains.
How do I even do this thing? I am a person with no facebook account and obsession for correct spelling. Not a typical blogger.
How the hell do I get a tag cloud? Can I get Sex and the City banner instead of these books on the background? How long is a readable post? will my husband feel offended when I write about us? Hello…is anybody listening?
And most important, how do I make people read this? I need some voyeurs!
This are my most popular blog posts:
Homo: Phobia and Sexuality or How Do We React When...
Sep 29, 2010, 47 comments 655 Pageviews
Why Do We Stink?
Apr 16, 2011, 5 comments 241 Pageviews
a damsel in distress
Jul 28, 2010, 1 comment 241 Pageviews
About Japan and about Faith
Mar 17, 2011, 8 comments 206 Pageviews
May 21, 2011, 14 comments 186 Pageviews
Pageviews last month
Pageviews all time history
And this is my favorite: search keywords—the most frequent ones. Note the one about deda-shvili!
no sex and the city tbilisi 11
sex in tbilisi 5
why are georgians 5
deda shvilis sexi 4
tbilisi sex 4
asaval dasavali 3
sex and the city
all in all, i have 30 followers and around 50 readers a week. i am happy :-) that means I have readers who don't know me personally :-)
I am not overly ambitious, I just like to scribble some stuff and I am always exited about comments.
Thanx for reading!!!
Monday, July 18, 2011
Have you ever encountered vague situations, where you are supposed to figure it out, but you would much rather have a straight answer? Right now, my common sense does not tell me anything and I am lost.
For example, I have recommended a family hotel to my foreign friend. I called the owner, booked a room and asked how much they charge for tours (their son knows English and takes foreigners hiking). The owner answered: “I don’t know. They usually give him money as a gift”. I insisted, but still could not get a price. How much does “a gift” constitute? I thought maybe 10 Lari, but my hubby said 10 is not enough. Is it 20? Does it depend on a hike difficulty? Does it depend on a foreigner (wealthier—bigger tip)?
Or this situation: legally we can take 21 business days for vacation, we can’t leave for more than 2 weeks—“They” won’t let us. Also, we can’t have one official day off—thus, all of one-day vacations are favors from my boss and my supervisor. I have asked for plenty of those favors lately and I realize that the limit is up. However, I really want to split my two-week vacation (thus I get more days. 2 weekends on the 1st week and later 2 weekends on the 2nd week). Also, my first love, my first sexual fantasy, my first male attachment-- Enrique Iglesias—is going to perform in Batumi. I had dreamed, prayed for and imagined him perform live for significant portion of my teenage years. That is all over of course, but I owe it to my childhood to see him
Thus, I have to ask for another favor. I need to summon my courage and ask for a 3-day official vacation (which I know is a bureaucratic hassle and problem on its own) so that I can see my first love live. Obviously, I can’t just ask for another unofficial day off—so I am forced to take a longer holiday.
I have been up all morning, nervous about this decision. Is it fine if I ask to split my vacation? Will I seem like ungrateful pig?
It would be so much easier, if we had defined vacation days, if I could count how many days I have used, if no one would do me favors, but give what is due to me, if life was concise and defined…
I was so unwilling to ask for any more goodwill (I feel like there is only so much of it left and I am drying it up), that I had decided not to attend this concert. But, last night I dreamed of Enrique. I woke up at 7 and could not go back to sleep. Somehow, this stupid concert gained huge importance and I got melancholy sprinkled on me.
If only we could know, how much the tours cost…maybe we wouldn’t be worried about paying less.
My friend decided to hike alone. Should I skip the concert?
p.s. sad lika. took the pic with my feet
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Unexpectedly and surprisingly, I found myself on a Sting concert, wearing someone else's fancy summer dress and new-bought shoes…
Several days before, my friend called and told me that she knew people who could help us get in for free.
Next, I spent all Saturday cleaning my house for a guest that was supposed to arrive on Monday (and never did), woke up after 3 hours of sleep at 6 A.M. on Sunday and took the first marshrutka to Batumi.
Of course we ate and ate in the “Privet iz Batuma”…
And then I spent two hours swimming.
When I came back to out apartment, I found my friend dressed in an evening gown she bought in NY. I thought that since this was a Batumi concert and since we had to stand, and since it was Sting and not symphonic orchestra, I could get away with nice shirt and jeans. To my horror, my friend informed me that D & G index would be pretty high that evening.
She gave me her summer dress, but I had no shoes. I had flip flops and sandals that looked like they came straight from Ancient Rome. So, we raided local Bata and bought some nice-enough shoes.
We were picked up by one of those obnoxious security guard enormous jeeps that annoy the hell out of mere mortals by blocking their way, violating all the rules and acting like Lords of Road. I cannot reveal any more information...
Finally, we found ourselves among crème de la crème of Georgian society. And let me tell you that crème is very sour. They clapped politely and just sat there, afraid to ruin their posture. Not only that, but they looked at us with judgment, when we yelled and screamed and jumped and clapped and sang along "Desert Rose".
The second part of the concert, we were pressed against each other by the security, cause our president decided to walk down to the people and listen to Sting amongst them (us). Thus, the second part was not as pleasant, as I was squeezed by two mammoth bodyguards. I continued screaming and one poor bodyguard was forced to remove his earpiece and put it in the opposite ear, away from me. After all, these guys were working.
Several celebrities walked by in their ruffled dresses, perfect tan and un-smiley faces…
People kept staring at Misha instead of the stage…
All I wanted was free water that was included with 400 Lari tickets and lay all over the place and under the seats, on the other side of the fence, where the elite sat-- according to a Georgian saying--with quills up their asses. I guess drinking water was against make-up rules.
Finally, Sting sang “My Funny Valentine” and it was one of the best performances I have seen in my life!
After the concert, we took some pretty pictures, ate mandatory Acharuli Khachapuri and I went through another night with 3 hours of sleep. But it was so worth it!
P.S. who the hell designed that ticket? Botti has color of Zombie and there is what looks like Sting's passport photo...