Patepisi - 1

... a e tva samo v BG moje da se sluchi  - shofiora na mejdugradski prevoz da mine v otsreshtnoto platno i da spre na otsreshtnia trotoar za da sleze da si kypi cigari ot butkata koiato e vsashtnost prozorche na maze. A patnicite chakame chinno.
....po ulicite varvia na prasti s nadejdata da zapazia ako moje tokchetata. Kak ne sme stanali vsichki balerini do sega?
....uspiah da otbia edin opit za "Izviniavaite, moga li da vi informiram za neshto?" s "Sajaliavam, az ne sam ot tuk i niama smisal, blagodaria". "Ne sam ot tuka"??!! Sreshty "nashia" blok na Doiran. Koeto technicheski a viarno shtoto az tam taka i niamah chesta da jiveia poradi mejdunarodna emi ili imi - gracia. A mojeha da me informirat ili za niakoia duhovna sbirka ili za niakoi metal koncert - az taka go predceniavam informatora. Nishto, drugia pat.
... Sadly, on day 1 of arrival I am continuously turning around startled by the fact that people around me speak a foreign language that I actually understand. Except that it is not a foreign language. It is my language. The one I keep searching out in a crowd, and the one in which sadly I don't feel I write anything as fluently or wittily as I do in the adopted one. Good thing is - by day 2 I have blended in. Adaptacia.
... A  v avtobusa "Chavdar" s komynisticheska tapiceria vchera se slushashe klasicheska myzika. I kid you not!!! Bratia Balgari! Doshal e kraia na Chalgaria!!!
... no standartnata uniforma prodaljava da bade danki i cherno kojeno iake. Dori v taia jega.

Of Mortgages and Men

I am beginning to supsect that the word Mortgage has a vicious definition completely omitted from any contract's small print.

Which I am not sure whether I should be angered about or what.

A derivative of "mortus" ("death) and "gag" ("a restraint device to stop the subject from calling for help") it is far more sinister than many suspect.

In other words - you get a mortgage, and you are dead meat, buddy!

From that point onwards you will no longer have the freedom to change jobs because you totally hate what you currently do and want to try this crazy idea you've been having for a loooong looong time but which is all a bit too risky. Becuase you have a mortgage.
From that point onwards you will no longer consider a round the world trip of discovery and amazement and doing nothing much but meeting new people and experiencing new cultures. Because you have a mortgage.
From this point onwards you will no longer splash out on totally random totally unnecessary things which give you pleasure just because. Because you have a mortgage.

And it's not that you REALLY can't. Of course you can! But you don't. Because what you perceive as the restraint is in actual fact stopping you from considering the possibilities, let alone their execution.

Because I have a mortgage.

I hear it all too often uttered as explanation by friends who I care about.
And I hear it all too often in my head when I can actually hear my own thoughts.
You've got to watch out fot that one.

It would have been a completely different ball game if they had called it Zoimike or something from "zoi" ("life) and "mike" (an amplifier device to help the subject project sounds of happiness).

Damn, why doesn't anyone put me in charge of words selection?? I'll do a better job.

Loss

Define loss.
Losing at 78 games of chess. Not too big a deal since I went into them knowing I will lose but still played because it's fun. Would be good to develop the mental capacity to win at least one though.
Losing virginity. Surely, got to be grateful for that one. I mean - a spinster at 52 really is a dark dark prospect that I wish on no one.
Losing weight. Now then. Pretty awesome, especially if you have spent the last few years playing "The whale". No even funny. But explains the disproportionate spend on red dresses.
Losing your keys. A real small fucker, especially if you need the toilet.
Losing track of time. Easily done. Usually through doing something nice so a loss-win situation. Happens a lot on Facebook I find.
Losing the boy to someone else. Purely due to the order of events. And despite of having all things going for it. That's a really hard one. It turns out - even years later.
Losing my mind. Metaphorically speaking.
Losing hair. Expensive. Whichever way you go about it or about concealing it.
Losing face. More acceptable at dark.

Losing my dog to a hit and run car and holding it while it dies. Heartbreakingly painful. The worst of the losses. Undescribably so.

Lost in translation - countless times.

The consolation - that when you lose, you also win. Am at a loss to define what and how.

And this is why I am not the perfect woman

I don't have the stamina to wake up at 5:30am EVERY morning to do my 1.5hrs aerobics routine before my child wakes up. He actually wakes up at 6am which means I can't fit in a reading exercise, a maths lesson and a cuddle before making breakfast and in between the aerobics session, a hot/cold skin revitalising shower and getting ready to leave the house by 8:30am.

Which is why I will never achieve the perfect body shape (at the same time as not achieving my motherhood nirvana).

I don't have money to go to a hairdresser for a cut once a month and a blow dry twice a week. Which is why I have no choice but adopting long, free flowing, air blown hair every day without even calling it "bad hair day" - I mean: it is the norm.

I forget applying my heels cream, and my nail cuticle cream, and my anti-wrinkle cream, and my body lotion, and my face toner, and my lips balm, and my tired eyes serum, and my before-bed moisturiser, and my early-morning emulsion. I simply can't remember the order which is why I may occasionally win the battle but never the skin war.

I could negate the effects of aging if only I could fit in afternoon naps regularly, but more often than not it is make up that tries to conceal the defects so I splash some of it on, without really knowing the rules (if there are any). YSL touche eclad anyone? Yes, please!

I often suffer from shoe-ache and the stickers applied to the back of my feet don't really very well hide the scars of years of shoe abuse. I still am in possession of some seriously high heels but they don't see much mileage these days for lack of high heel places to go to and for unwillingness on my part to compromise my comfort if I do go.

Stretch marks crème did not work. That one was a goner even before pregnancy happened to me to be honest. Which is probably why I am not too convinced the anti-wrinkle ones will do any better job to beat the inevitable.

Cup sizes go up and down with time, as a function of weight gain/loss (mainly gain) and maternal weeks count. But the direction of their gravity is sadly always and forever down, down, down in their quest to reach the belly button line (which they may even surpass, should they confuse a stretch mark further down for the real thing).

I started off with waxing and de-hairing lower legs, moved on to upper legs, eventually to Brazil (and oh, boy - do they know how to have fun in Rio! - scream out loud!!), and after all that it appears that not only "baby skin" is never achieved except in babies, but you can get in-growths, spots, red rash and all sorts to spoil the desired effect which even a fake Saint Tropez spay on cannot hide. Always disappointing. Which is a bit worrying given that I have noticed of recent a hint of a moustache and three lonely beard hairs whcih I repeatedly uproot for them to grow back again (not to mention that the fake Saint Tropez has the capacity to really damage your white "I deserve it" undergarments).

I get period spots (which is only marginally better than teenage ones - on the plus side: they only happen once a month; on the negative - everyone knows you have your period; or may be only those of us who have our glasses on).

I don't have the time for teeth whitening, and flossing, and mouth wash cleansing, and manicure touch up, and a face mask and two cucumber slices every night.

And as I write this I continue to slide in my chair to what would become one day a visible posture problem because it just dawned on me I even forgot to take my vitamins and WellWoman nutritious supplements this week.

Money, time, stamina, memory, will - basically, don't be mistaken - this is a set up for failure from the outset.

Which is why (collectively) I will never achieve my perfect body form. No amount of protein, then carb, then veg, then only water diets on top of M&S elasti-pants will ever make up for the shortfalls.

And yet, as Kvazimodo looks in the mirror some mornings (some mornings, not all) I can't help but wink at the reflection thinking "Way to go, girl!"

And the world out there (probably mainly meaning men, but who knows?) will have to learn to either take it leave it. I do (or at least I try to).

The brilliant thing about all this is that I leave the house in the safe knowledge that there is no perfect woman out there - they all get spots and periods and split ends. So there is to equality!!

Will I?

Burning desire to be the first in formulating something .
Could I rise to the challenge of being the ultimate innovator? A creator? The one which is then copied and followed?
Do I have it in me?
Is the Gennie on the wall on my side?
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html
Would it come down one day and help me write something that captures imagination and thoughts beyond my circle of friends?
I don't even have an idea about an idea which to write about.
So can I know that the idea will emerge over time, if I stick with the burning desire for it?
I've got no choice but to believe so.
Can you imagine though the sourness of the disappointment of the failure if I never do?
Will the weight of all the other short term on-the-go achievements of various descriptions be enought to outweight the one that's missing?
Am Destiny's child, ei?
It's all out of my hands, until one day it may be flows through them. I hope.
Or the whole world will laugh at me.

Shadows of dangers

There is nothing in the world that I can feel the rawness of emotion and grief of stronger, than the thought I might lose Martin. Nothing, NOTHING, comes close and honestly - I can feel my heart breaking just then..There is no rational triger for that thought and the quick image accompanying the question of what could possibly be worse.  In such fraction-of-a-second moments I hate cars, airplanes, tsunamis, and deseases tera-times more than ever and everything. More than when I see them in pictures. Pictures happen to other people, while my feeling for my image is sickening .

Noone should ever have to go through such a thing. Ever. Bloody hell!

And yet some people do.

#6) Detstvo moe realno i valshebno

Na 2ri (a po-kasno16ti) juni me zakarvaha na selo v zelen Moskvich s cherven "kojen salon" na koito ti zalepvashe dupeto or izpotiavane. Na 14ti septemvri me pribiraha, za da me okapat (s kese za edno seriozno svaliane na kir) i da me proveriat za vashki. Za moi losh kasmet tochno predi parvi klas i mi gi otkriha, namazaha me s nafta da gi ubiat, postrigaha me na panica (abe ne si spomniam, ama nai-veroiatno v domashni yslovia s metalnata nojica na baba ot chekmedjeto na shevna mashina Singer - i do den dneshen nai-cennata semeina relikva ako ne se laja), i v rezyltat: na vsichkite mi snimki kato chavdarche sam naravno s groznoto patence. I kalpaka s lqv otpred ne pomogna, no pak si znaeh vsichkite lozungi kato "Chavdarcheto e primerno deto, igrae, pee, uchi se, chete".

Plus sled manifestacia me vodeha v sladkarnica "Zaharno Petle" da iam pasta s jalti i rozovi rozi ot mnogo maslen krem proizvodstvo na "Sladkarska Kooperacia" ili mi kypyvaha gevrek ot diadoto deto prodavashe topli gevreci ot pletena kolichka na kolela.

Ne selo sabirah svetulki i gi slagah v burkan da mi svetiat noshtno vreme. Na sytrinta biaha ymreli no do vecherta si hvashtah novi. Te nikoga ne svarshvaha. Sashto imashe praznik narechen Orata-Kopata na koito mi praveha fakla ot stari parcali prikacheni kam edna prat sas rajdiasala tel i poliati s beznin, i rityala se sastoeshe v tova da razmahvam faklata nad glavata si predi da otidem s cialoto selo na goliamata klada or stari gumi do rekata. V rekata mai imashe ribki shtoto mai vednaj chicho mi hvana edna v naelonovo plikche.

Prez denia se kachvahme nad seloto na edno halmche narecheno Chuchulec do koeto se stigashe sled presichane na magistralata Sofia-Kulata. V tia podvizi vazrastni ne ychastvaha, ma da vi kaja - nai veroiatno marshruta ot tiah shte da sme go naychili.

V 5:30 hodehme da gledame y sasedcheto "Bendji, Zaks i Zvezdnia Princ", "Arabela" i "Choki" shtoto tam imashe televizor [malak format, no s antena]. Obache pak nashte chereshi biaha po hubavi i se sastezavahme sas svrakite koi prav shte stigne nai gornite kloni i nai vkusnite chereshi.

Mejduvremenno me prashtaha na pone dva lagera. Bosnek, Zemen, Ravda, abe - kade li ne. Chak i Savetskia Sajuz! S nashte si pishehme pisma. V plik. S marka i tn. Prashtash, pa chakash 2-3 dni che i poveche za otgovor. V sabota idvaha na svijdane i mi noseha pile s kartofi. Abe az si misleh che e malko jestoko ot tiahna strana, da si priznaia chestno, da me zatochavat taka za po dve sedmici dva pati v ramkite na tri meseca. Ama kvo da se pravi - obuvash sinite gumenki s vrazki i igraesh narodna topka po cial den - kakvo mnogo mnogo da go mislish. Za sledobedna zakyska - filia s ljutenica ili rusensko vareno.

Vkashti sutrin mi otvariaha vrata i po niakoe vreme vecher pochvaha da sviriat ot balkona da se pribiram. Prez promejdutata ot vreme mejdu tia dve sluchki - ne e iasno koi e bil naiasno kade sam i kakvo pravia. Kvo pak tolkova - igraia si pred bloka.

V nedelia sytrin v kinoto davaha detski film i hodehme redovno. Posle doide "Banda BMX" i s tova - i drugi mechti. Moita se sbadna pod formata na Balkanche. Or 88 leva. Ne tia ot 114 leva s oblegalka i skorosti. Spukah go ot karane s bandata i iadene na sledoled na prachka "Eskimo".

Podvarzvah si tetradkite za ychilishte i im lepiah krasivi etiketi s kancelarsko lepilo i mnogo se gordeeh s rezultata. Ychebnicite ni gi razdavaha v ychilishte, ako imame kamet - niakoi i chisto novi. No pak v zamiana triabvashe da izdavame 5 kilograma shipki, 10 kilograma hartia i 20 prazni bytilki. Sluhovete biaha che niakade izdavat i kesteni. Abe ot shipkite stava shipkov marmalad "Pektin", hartiata i bytilkite se prerabotvat i vtoroizpolzvat. Ama na kestenite kakva im e faidata? I do dnes se chudia.

Ot vreme na vreme v uchilishte minavaha razni agenti (sega razbiram che se narichali bili "bookeri") koito ni stroiavaha po visochina i otsiavaha zvezdite. Ot kraia na opashkata biaha hudojestveno gimnastichkite. Ot nachaloto (za sajalenie) ne tolkova shikoznoto - volei i basketobolistkite. Odelno biaha hor, hora i prilojno izkustvo, i vsichkite tam drugi krajoci na koito hodehme bez nashte da plashtat - iskashe se samo jelanie.

Ta malko me sriazva ei tuka kato si pomislia che samo za edno pokolenie taka sa se smenili neshtata s taia Health and Safety korektnost i che az vsashtnost sam glaven geroi v sistemata. Che oglejdam edno dete koeto izglejda da e shtastlivo, no nikoga ne e bilo gore na chereshata; na koeto absolutno niama da my dam da preticha magistralata, da ne govorim che sreshtu Chuchulec veche ima McDonalds-s.Studena i toi moje i hich da ne iska da goni peperydite po baira kato ima Happy Meal na oferta; haide za fakla moje i da se navia - ama nai-veroiatno ne, ot strah da ne me raportyvat za irresponsible parent; Otglejdam dete s ednomesechna liatna vakancia, no 24 chasova cartoon network. What happened??