Windows, Projects and Desperate Hope

I’d like to write of hope and future and all that is precious and all that is light. I’d like to write about these things accumulating, these things I need to do but never have time to do. These ongoing projects.
For example, the windows project. I’ve been taking pics of windows for around 4 years now. Windows are peculiar, they help us look outside, but they also allow the outside look at us…it’s like a passage from our safe refuge to the world out there. What can be more interesting than walking around, looking into somebody’s windows, sort of like a stalker, but really, all I want is to get a glimpse of others’ stories, that’s all.
When I was little, I was fascinated with the apartments I could see from the street, imagining what it would be like to live in them. For many nights, I stayed up, staring at windows in the opposite house, the ones that had lights on, until they would fade out, one by one.
Anyway, now I have this massive amount of the window pics, waiting to be sorted; some of them are on film, they need to be scanned and god knows where the rest of them are stored…windows in mountains, in Tbilisi, in NY and in Hague…and I solemnly swear that I will produce one wonderful album of these fucking windows and torture people into seeing them.
Let’s see, the other project is to finish building a bar in our house, so that my hubby can put all of his earthly possessions (different kinds of alcohol) in one place and marvel at them. That project has already started so congrats to us, we are actually working on something.
Another project is to watch all the films that I’ve underlined in this pretty comprehensive book on film history. I want to take my amateur film knowledge a little further and actually see obscure thing like Birth of a Nation. I am tempted to skip first 30 years of film, but damn it, I will go through the silent film era, no matter how much I want to just conquer the 70s.
The ever ongoing child project was paused due to the trip to Netherlands (I have to be sure that my future fetus has healthy environment, aka my blood is not poisoned), and of course I will spare you the details, but it’s constantly on my mind.
Finally, when we got married, hubby and I decided to print out two separate lists of countries we want to visit and put it on our fridge--when we’d have a fridge. We could then look at these countries as an inspiration. Hubby did acquire this weird-colored goldenish fridge, but for several years now, we have not pinned a freakin list to it. This week, I swear, this week, the fridge will have its due list.
So, from windows to countries, I have heady things to do, and I just don’t do them and then I lament about how boring my life is.
And you too, shake yourself up, go out, dance, sing, write something, do something!!!Right now, get up and do something, so there can be at least two of us pushing the boundaries of our mundane existence!
P.S. Mysterious window in Netherlands, at dusk.

Case of Mondays or Existential Thoughts Before Birthday

“I know it’s overwhelming, but what else can we do, get jobs in offices and wake-up for the morning commute?”, Ironically I usually listen to this song, MGMT’s Time to Pretend in marshurtka, on my way to work.
I asked my hubby yesterday, why was it that some people didn’t have to live this way? I had this song in mind. Being an awesome hubby he is, he guessed exactly what I meant and answered: “yes, but they die young”. Funny, the same song contains lyrics: “this is our decision to live fast and die young”, though hubby didn’t know it. Sometimes, the world communicates with us in a weird way.
This is an outline of my week: Monday –I am energetic and recharged after the weekend. The first half of the day I do more than I do in next two days combined. Tuesday—least favorite day of the week. Weekend energy wore off, I am stuck doing stupid things. Bored and tired, can’t wait to go to bed. Wednesday--it gets better, only two days left till the weekend. Stay up late watching shit on my comp. Thursday—I just have to live through today and tomorrow, today and tomorrow, today and tomorrow. Friday—if I work a lot, the day will end sooner. If I party on Friday evening, weekend gets longer. Saturday—I wake up at 1 P.M. stay in bed till 2. I can kill anyone who gets between me and my sleep. I feel like myself, doesn’t matter what I do, host guests, go out, spend all day in bed watching movies, clean the house, see my family, this is me, I identify with myself. Sunday—trying to do everything I’ve planned during the week but never got to do. Spend some time on FB, see what people are up to. After 6 I begin to feel depressed, I know that my freedom ends soon. I start little auto training… it’s going to be O.K., it’s going to be fine, I will live through it. I have case of Mondays on Sunday evening. Then I fight with sleep as long as I can, I go to sleep at 2, 3, maybe even 4, because if I fall asleep, the weekend is over.
This is how I live my life, day after day, I lose track of time, I feel like we had New Year just now, I can hardly believe that a whole month has passed and that it is my birthday already. I told hubby, ”do you understand that we spend 5 days out of 7 looking forward to the weekend?” He sighted. And he has a lot better job than I do.
The world does have funny way of communicating. I opened my friend’s blog today and he wrote about his existential crises too. My other friend commented on it, sharing her pain. Are we all drifting in this town, unhappy?
Often, I ask myself, did I gain more than I’ve lost at my job? Is it worth it?
It is; this extra income helps us be happy. We can afford New Year trips to Europe. We can change windows in our houses. We can install bar in our apartment. I swear, the one week I spent in Turkey last summer and in Europe this winter was worth all the frustration. For two weeks, we got to live fast without dying young.
So here I am, losing my college knowledge and enduring through mandatory bad years, in order to advance in my career. It is Thursday, just three hours left today and a whole day tomorrow, but when it’s over, god, when it’s over, I will have so much fun, cause this Saturday, I am having a spa day + posh nigh with my girlfriends and this Sunday, I am gathering my family. Cause it’s my birthday.
P.S. post written last Thursday. I had a wonderful weekend after this post. Here’s my Birthday Awards acceptance speech: thanx to my family for lovely chat over khinkali, thanx to my closest girls for being tolerant to each other’s cellulites-covered, not-yet-ready-for-the-summer bodies (we celebrated my aging in Turkish baths), and finally, the most important actor, the hubby, you made these two days beautiful, thanx 4 walking on thin ice with me (we literally walked on frozen Lisi Lake that weekend).
Oh, and there were 4 fb pages of b.d. wishes from digital friends. U guys are cool!
P.S.S. the pic: and yes, I am that old now.

USA2Georgia

I am in a happy place so I write about happy things. Last week it was Sherlock. This week, it is shipment.
Some things are impossible to get here: they are unavailable or too expensive. Online shopping should be a solution. However, since the Georgian post service is apparently our version of a Soviet Occupation Museum—it reminds us how it used to be in the soviet time (offices, employees, service, months of shipment, parcel delivery time), since mailing things via UPS and FedEx is very expensive, finally, since you are never sure that you will actually receive what you’ve ordered (“they” have lost my shipment twice), we refrain from shopping online.
When I travelled to U.S. often, I used to bring a lot of stuff from the states. Shoes, clothing, make-up, books, even pans and Ziplocs (we didn’t have them back then). But many of those things are getting old and have to be replaced. Plus, new items that we need, for example, electronic devices (camera, Nook, media player) are considerably more expensive here.
For a while now, I’ve been shopping online. Every time I come to pick up my order, I promise to write about the experience. I have stumbled upon one of the rare cases when Georgian business actually works: the whole process from shipment to pick up is perfect, web-site is easy to manage, payment—reasonable and staff--quick.
I am of course, talking about USA2Georgia. If you have never used it, then you are way behind the rest of civilized Tbilisians 
This is how it works: you register at USA2Georgia.com; the website is user-friendly; it has all the info, discussion forums and other useful things. After registration, you are assigned a room number. You then go online and shop for something fabulous. For the shipping address you write the USA address given to you by the USA2Georgia. Your item gets shipped there. Once it arrives, you get an E-mail and a message on your account. You are notified about the arrival and asked to declare it for the customs purposes. You choose the category of your item (like clothing, electronics, etc.), write how much it costs and choose to have it sent: 1. in original box (larger, heavier and costs more) 2. repackaged (if your item is not fragile, you should totally do that); after around a week, you get an E-mail and a message that your shipment is here. You take your ID with you, go to Kavatardze 27, pay the amount of shipment through an electronic paybox (you will need to know your room number to do that), stand in a queue like a normal person, sign a receipt, and receive your item. You then proceed into tearing the wrapping off and putting on new shoes right there…sorry, I got carried away.
It is a bit complicated the first time you do it, but after doing it several times, you get used to the system. It does not change and makes sense.
I wonder how long they will keep the excellent service. Too often businesses in Georgia start very well and then fail to maintain costumers. Let’s hope this is a lucky exception!
P.S. They should probably give me a gift card for advertising their business 
P.P.S. What hubby and I usually order online…

SherLOCKED--Please Join the Club

You know how sometimes you fall in love with the character of a film or a book and you get excited and then the mere fact that you are excited about it excites you even more? How you then research the character, research the actor, discover some hidden jewels along the way, even secretly try to imagine different plotlines, endings? That’s where I am now.
For some reason, last several years have been productive in terms of good-quality TV and some series tackled the challenge of being short, engaging, well…serial, but still retain the eminence of a film and pack a lot of character and story development in a short period of one episode.
Recently, I was pleasantly surprised by BBC’s “Sherlock”; last year, when my hubby offered to watch a modern British adaptation of Sir Conan Doyle’s work, I was reluctant; I could not imagine this project done tastefully. We started watching the first episode and though I instantly loved Dr. Watson, an image of young Sherlock was harder to stomach (though his age is exactly the same as in the books; we have been fed an old Sherlock in other adaptations). The plot was excellent, with so much nerdy references to the original that it got hubby and me squeaking with delight. Each episode is 90 minutes long, so we could not just watch it tired, after work, thus it took us a while to watch all three episodes of the season 1. By the end, I was completely hooked and could not imagine any other Sherlock. As a result, I started appreciating the story again--after all, I’ve read “Sherlock Holmes” sometime in 6th grade and seldom went back to it.
Very short review: I value this fresh duo of John and Sherlock, the fact that the former has some personality and is not just a dumb story-writer, and the depth given to the characters of Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Mycroft and, most importantly, Moriarty. Actually, Moriarty deserves a separate post...The creators of the film have stated, that they aim to show Sherlock as he was perceived in his age—innovative, using modern technologies, intelligent, but at the same time, very classical and Byron-esque—not hidden under the set of Victorian decorations, outdated, a creature of the past.
Along came the season two, and if season one succeeded in building this super-human, super-intelligent, I would say Aspergerish Sherlock, season two exposed a human, fallible side of his character and accomplished the impossible—proved to be better than the first season! Of course, the importance of human emotion on Sherlock’s usually grim face would never be appreciated without the first season, but watching the second season is twice, thrice as satisfying! All, absolutely all of the actors perform so well, watching them is a treat.
Back to my exited self: This whole week I have been reading “Sherlock” press reviews from all over the world; watching interviews with the actors and creators of the film; reading history of Sherlock Holmes and Conan Doyle; reading reviews of theatre work that Benedict Cumberbatch—the actor who plays Sherlock—performs well and consequently, collects awards; watching some of his films; and learning how to pronounce his name (sounds like BATCH of cuCUMBERs). I have gathered a ton of information about film, theatre, British actors in general and of course, all things Sherlock. I’ve written two posts on this theme (one will soon appear on my other blog), and spent some time looking through Cumberbatch’s pics (let’s hope my hubby won’t read this post). Hence, I can proudly declare that I have found something exiting to get excited about and I have been absolutely and irrevocably SherLOCKED. And maybe (just maybe) I am the first official Georgian Cumberbitch—a slightly disturbing twitter term describing quickly-spreading Cumberbatch fan hysteria.
Come on, watch it, get hooked!!! What else do you have to do this weekend?!
P.S. I have not taken this pic (I wish!!), I’ve copied it from : http://www.notzombies.com/tv/the-bbcs-sherlock-review/

winter survival

This week is going to be cold. Here are some tips on staying warm. Depending on how warm your house is, you can choose ones you like. Regardless, it is always a good idea to insulate your house and save energy.
1. If you have older, wooden windows, insulate them with special tape you can stick to the outside of the windows
2. Put blankets on chairs and couches—you’ll have them handy when you sit down and feel colder.
3. Invest into a down blanket, ‘’Dutch house’’ has nice ones. Down blankets are fluffy, light and retain warmth very well.
4. Wear socks to bed. Why torture yourself at night, sticking your feet into frozen sheets?
5. Pour hot water into a glass bottle (but put a spoon or knife in it first or it might crack. plastic bottles deform from hot water). Important--Make sure that the cap is screwed on tightly. Go to bed with warm bottle—will fall asleep comfortably.
6. Warm your bed with a hair drier—be careful, don’t overheat the device (don’t use it over half a minute if you cover it). My bedroom is pretty warm, but I still warm my bed with a hair drier, cause getting into a bed that is warmer than the room is very soothing. Alternatively, you can iron the sheets and pillowcase (not the down blanket!)
7. Get a living, warm-blooded creature into your bed: a cat, a husband, etc. you will have a symbiotic relationship, giving heat to each other.
8. Take a hot shower, before you get into a warmed-up bed.
9. Warm up PJ’s by ironing them or by hanging them by a heating device
10. Eat spicy food, stews
11. Drink hot tea in bed
12. Boost your immune system with tea with honey and lemon; eat mandarins and oranges—the citrus season is here!
13. Take vitamins
14. If your house is very cold, put on a bathing robe over clothes. It is like a coat, thick and insulating, but you avoid wearing a coat in the house—cause that’s depressing,
15. Wear leggings under pants
Most of this is common sense, but for some reason I keep forgetting to put socks on, and if I do put them on, I wake up with one sock lost somewhere in the debris of the bed. I will ruin my hair drier by the end of the winter, cause it is extremely relaxing to get into a warmed-up bed, I do it every night.
All in all, staying warm is easier then cooling down in the hot summer. Last summer, in Batumi, I could not sleep because of the heat plus humidity. I tossed and tossed and then I thought—if I can get bottle of hot water with me in the winter, I should do the same in the heat, with cold water. There was a 24 hour populi by my hotel, so I got up, bought cold water and hugged it. Unfortunately, it got warm in 30 minutes, and then I remembered how solids retain temperature longer than the liquids, so I got up again and bought two packs of frozen margarine in the middle of the night. I put one by my wrist and one by my temple—close to the blood circulation spot. I did wrap the packs in several plastic bags—I did not want to wake up covered in smashed margarine. Anyway, it did help, so next night I bought more frozen margarine.
Sorry for the random association. What I was trying to say is that at least when it’s cold, you can layer up. So find a cat, hug hot water in a tightly-screwed bottle and iron your nighties. Good luck
p.s.this is my cat getting warm in a blancket.

Another Journey to Alternate Reality

January 3d. Time flies in a weird fashion. It goes slow and then it speeds up. I haven’t slept most of the night (late flight) and here I am at my work desk. I am sitting quietly, thankful for the fact that I can skip working for several minutes. But I shrivel at the thought that I still have to do something today.
I need to sleep, I need to sleep now, I need to put my head on a pillow and sleep. I am drowsy, I walk into furniture, I am not fine. I feel like I have a fever or something. Maybe I am sick.
This work, this stuff to do has accumulated during my week of vacation. I can’t, I can’t.
My body is slowly morphing into a chair. I am becoming a chair. I am a blue rotating chair. My head is on my desk. I am a desk. I am a brown rectangular desk. My particles mingle with the desk particles and I become brown too.
I want to be in bed and damn it, damn it, I have to pretend to work for 5 more hours. Or even worse, I might even work for 5 hours. I need to take a break, but I can’t get up.
Oh, these meaningless days after the holidays, when no one really wants to work and no one is doing anything, but there is stuff to do, so we are drifting in the air, we are pretending to do something, but no one is in the mood and everyone is sleepy.
Help me, help me, somebody help me.
Help.
I spent last week in Netherlands. I was standing in Amsterdam on New Year’s Eve, in Museum district, watching incredible fireworks. The day before I was in Belgium: Brussels and Bruges. Oh Bruges, Bruges, a medieval town in Belgium, where one walks around re-stating the phrase: “I know I'm awake but it feels like I'm in a dream, I know I'm awake but it feels like I'm in a dream”, the famous phrase from that cool film about Bruges. I know I'm awake but it feels like I'm in a dream. 1000 year-old buildings, old churches, old streets.
And Brussels, this little cute Brussels, with little pissing boy sculpture, with little chocolate shops all over the centre, mousetraps for tourists, huge Christmas tree on a main square surrounded by gothic buildings. Oh, I know I'm awake but it feels like I'm in a dream. And waffles, the Belgian waffles for 1 Euro, kill me, kill me now.
Netherlands, Netherlands!!!The land of freedom, a hippie country in Europe. How many times today I have pictured your canals, your flower markets, your special shops with special brownies. The trains that are always on time, the buildings adapted for everyone, costumes at the airport actually friendly (the only place in the world where customs smiled at me), oh Netherlands, I miss you so much!
How the three of us, my hubby, his brother and I, wandered around the Holland, from one town to another, from one canal to other, catching the on-time trains, so comfortable, so clean, so civilized. The cities and towns we have visited, hey Rotterdam, Amsterdam, Hague, Delpht, Uhtrecht, hey! I miss you, I miss your little streets, your cobble stones, your van Gogh museums, your free air and your acceptance. I miss your laid back attitude and happy people and most of all, I miss having extra time and extra money, being in control, deciding what I want to do today.

Oh, Netherlands. I will take my lunch break now and try to fight this dizziness. Or maybe not. Cause even now, I know I'm awake but it feels like I'm in a dream.

The pic: Bruges, Belgium. My hubby took it.

Under Rugs Swept: Unseen World of Prostitution

Dear friends,
please check out my PIK blog this week!
here is the intro:
"Here I am, writing from the land of freedom, liberty and acceptance—and not in Tbilisi, of course. Just to be clear, it is not USA either. I am seating in the student dorm in Hague, Netherlands, attempting to finish this post while I’m still lucid. It’s December 25th, we have turned on the Christmas music, bought a miniature tree and hang mistletoe I ripped off a mistletoe bush somewhere by the peace palace in downtown Hague.
Being in Hague is interesting, as this country is implementing many practices that I preach in theory. Netherlands and Georgia are located on different planets in terms of how they approach many subjects, and I’ve been involved in one of them lately. December 17th was the day to end violence against sex workers and several events took place that day."
for more, see http://pik.tv/en/experts/story/26837-under-the-rugs-swept-unseen-world-of-prostitution/