so many things!

oh, so many things have happened since November!

- moved to another(!) (smaller) city (как у Пушкина: "... царь женился на другой" - переехала в другой, совсем другой город.)
- been to Nigeria three times
- learnt my darling had (i hope had, not has) an "interactive porn-mate". ahh-hha.
- travelled forth class on an train from Madurai to Chennai once.
- quit my job and became an independent consultant. la-la-la.

detailed stories on each to come.

on tiredness

how absolutly exhausting being contantly nervous is! it is exhausting physically, it is exhausting mentally. one is in constant unpleasant tremble, with only moments of relaxation when mind just refuses to stay alert any longer and falls into blissful ignorance. it is only the start, the very beginning and i am already ready to turn back to run away from this all - quit, hide, dissolve into nothingness... oh, almighty, give me strength to carry on!

(note to self: must really be bloody struggling, if remembered the almighty)

я так молила - позови!

we spoke. i think i came across concern, but collected. reasonable. independent and strong. but my heart was begging yours to show more affection, to say you loved me a million times and more, to caress my soul with unreasonable and annoying sweet nothings.

you were not 'present'. your heart sounded concerned, but collected...

on bebés and boobies

i imagine a letter in the style of "дорогая редакция"*: my long-term boyfriend said he was indifferent to whether we have babies or not and two days later i caught him reading "no knickers at work" porn story online. should i be concerned or am i overacting?

and the warm soft voice says: neah, totalmente overacting chiquita. he didn't say he does not want babies - he just never thought of them. he can be trained and made to want them. believe you me, he will be running after you full of energetic sperm wanting desperately to make a baby with you if you play it right. and you have that power, bonita, you can make it happen! what guy can possibly not want to leave his genealogical mark on humanity? he is just being a guy, being scared. remember he quoted from “Juno”: “women love their babies from the date they get pregnant, men love start to love them from the day they are born” or similar… ahh, how cute!

and a voice another voice that leaves an unpleasant metallic taste in the mouth says: being a mother, having a child is one of the top three things you want in life. can you really trust someone who does not wish, does not dream of having a child with you? can you trust someone who does is indifferent to something you value so much?

and the warm voice whispers sounding like an old traditional woman who knows the truth about men: so he looks at naked tits and reads xxx-stories, big deal, what man does not?! it is normalidad, really. you are very open with each other and enjoy occasionally telling each other dirty sexual fantasies. you know he reads porn sometimes, he does not hide it - and come on, like you've never read any yourself!

and the metallic tasting voice replies - no no no no, uno momento! telling each other about fantasies - that's all good. sitting near you on sunday afternoon and reading porn stories is quite different. why is he looking for this excitement online? are you satisfying him completely and fully in the bedroom? are you sure? yes, not as young as before, are you? don't put as much effort in looking yummy and chocolaty and velvety, do we? and yes, you have read erotica stories, no denying - but who sent you those in the first place? have you ever actively searched for them yourself? no? see what i mean... i don’t want to be the one to tell you a few months down the line “i told you so…”
____________
PS: "дорогая редакция"* = "dear editor"

blogosphere: there is so much out there

spent a whole of 30 minutes browsing through some random blogs via magical “next blog” button...

there seem to be a shedloads of all sorts of people (creative, crazy, inventive, dull) with their own blogs – some helpful (especially those with do-it-youself stuff and step-by-step recipes), some useless, with bad photos from piss-up weekends, some amusing arty projects, and some plain dull (usually involve cars and motors and that kind of crap).

and here i am, talking (writing) to myself, so totally sane, normal, rational. woohoo.

everything you can do, i can do better...

the feeling of concealed satisfaction of “i do it better…” is very so utterly pleasurable. makes one sit up straighter, tilt a head slightly to the right and put on that barely noticeable ‘mona lisa’ smile.

let them worry for a while, while i make myself a cup of tea (english way, strong with a drop of milk) and reason about dichotomy between coming to rescue and watching them fuck up.

what is more important at the end of the day - a collective win (where your contribution blends in and does not get deserved recognition) or a solo pleasure of knowing your skills are superior?

añoranza de la felicidad: intro

just had a sudden, sharp (want, urge) need to stain some pages with waves of emotions bubbling inside. thus spent a whole of six minutes looking into what blog to use and voila! as a friend used to say "mana senga resultat" (here is a result for you).

the need has calmed down a little and an awareness of writing for (my own) somebody else's eyes kicked in. thus attempted consecution and order in writing.

this will be a journal of someone who is:

- longing for happiness
- confused
- in love
- full of unrealized potential
- a good cook
- speaks (to varied degrees) english, russian, uzbek, and un poquito spanish.

the blog/journal/space will not be updated regularly, or have amuzing stories, or arty photograps (all of which i will try to do, really). it will, for sure, contain some grammatical mistakes, and will be distinguished by a random spinkling of articles (a, the, un, uno, le, la, etc) whenever i remember to use them.

it will be a place (for me) to get out of my chest what i can't say to those around me for one or the other or the other or the other reason.

so welcome. and good luck.