text:
all roads lead to this
Sometimes a journey can last a lifetime. Our journey to Jerusalem did. And it also lasted a year. And also six weeks. And also ten days. And also 24 hours.
We had been talking for years about moving here. On and off, we kept wondering why most of our friends are here, and we aren't. Why we insist on inflicting the harsh Eastern European climate on ourselves. Why we live in a city where A. has nothing to entice and challenge him. Why we keep visiting here, but never stay.
A year ago exactly, at the end of January 2011, as we were riding the bus from Eilat to Jerusalem having just crossed the Egyptian border, with the intention of grabbing our things from a friend's house and running to the airport to go home, we suddenly made a pact we would put an end to this. A year from now, we vowed, we would move here for good. We started telling everyone we knew, to make it impossible to go back on the decision. We started our preparations… no, that we didn't do. This we put off. Instead, we traveled. Just talking about the move was enough, just prefacing most of our future tense sentences with "when we move," or "while we're still here". We had a chance to secure visas here in August, then in November, but neither worked out.
Six weeks ago A. had to go to Russia. Things had become critical there, and his presence was needed. There were also the visa troubles to attend to, and that, too, pushed him to the country he was trying, almost, to denounce. It transpired that he had to stay there for an entire month. I went out there for the latter half of it to share this time, and together amid the snow, we said our thorough goodbyes to our friends, which did not bring as much pain as it could have. Soon, thought we, we would never have to see snow again. And soon enough our loved ones would come visit.
Ten days ago we were finally in Vilnius again. There was a daunting task ahead of us: we hadn't begun our packing, and nothing was to be left in the apartment we were leasing out. Not to mention that we still had no visa. The anticipated frantic scramble led me to escalating hysteria before even the first carton was opened to pile books inside. The house I had accustomed myself to seeing as my refuge, my shelter, was now at a late stage of a decaying disease which was robbing it of its personality, its ourness. Our pictures were removed, and empty frames gaped at me from the walls with embarrassing woodenness. Every meeting with every friend or relative reeked of finality. I had my goodbye roda at capoeira class and did not tear up, though I had fully expected to. This was it. It was snowing non-stop, and I felt as if my heart's city was cleansing itself of me, covering itself up after our prolonged amorous encounter. We took a train to freezing Minsk and after a measured amount of humiliation returned the same day with passports bearing Israeli visas.
On Wednesday, our physical journey began. We loaded all of our possessions into a minivan. The cat was trembling in his plastic confinement, driven into shock by the tribulations he sensed were ahead. A good eight hours later, we were in a dingy room on the outskirts of Minsk. I dealt with the unreal reality by immersing myself in work. After four hours of sleep we continued on the next leg of the trip, which was the scariest flight I'd ever experienced because it was obviously the scariest thing the cat had ever experienced. On the plane, I read John Green's new novel, The Fault In Our Stars. By landing-time, the cat was screaming and foaming at the mouth, he had soiled himself and left a deep gash in my hand in his attempt to flee, and I was suddenly crying, either because of the book, his suffering, or the realization that only then began to dawn, that we had left home for good.
Ironically, Welcome Home was the motto of the afternoon. Having cleaned up the poor beast, we were carted to an old and homemade-looking absorption center, where we were cooed over, given coffee, and handed our first papers and some cash. Then followed a cab ride with fellow new Jerusalemites, one of them a slightly jaded-sounding American poet, another – a red-cheeked turtle. Finally, the journey was over. All of them were. It was suddenly clear that the journey, for me, was an end in itself. All of the emotional, physical, and financial investment had led to this point in time, and nothing else. It came as a surprise that after moving here, we also had to live here.
I am sipping hot water now, wrapped in someone's warm poncho, wearing untied shoes, in a red armchair in the corner of a friend's house. I spent the morning working on stylist interviews and Turkish Jewish music, while A. was out and people were playing vaguely French tunes on an accordion and the battered organ downstairs. There is work to do and our own apartment to find. There are places to go and people to meet. The cat is fine. Winter's bleak sunshine is filling the yard. It is exceptionally cold. It is shabbat.
honest plane notes about my racism and uzbekistan
I find a closed space full of Uzbek people difficult to tolerate, as was repeatedly proven on trains and planes this week. Another startling discovery is that I am similarly averse to closed spaces full of Indians. This is because (a) I am a notoriously xenophobic European, or (b) I can't stand it when people speak loudly and interminably to each other when they're too close to me and I am trying to sleep. The correct answer, for those who find it difficult to follow, is (b).
This point was established by a girl and older man at Tashkent's train station where we were spending the night on metal chairs and had unwisely left a gap between us, in which the girl unscrupulously plopped down and proceeded to chatter in what sounded like a succession of the same highly irritating syllables to her husband/father/unspecified male liaison until I raised my head groggily from my backpack-in-lap sleep arrangement, which caused her to say cheerfully "Oh sorry, miss, I must have woken you!" – then turn right back to her conversation.
The point was driven home further by the four Muslim Indians we shared a compartment with on the way to Samarkand, who kept speaking about Allah in patronizing, sermon-like voices, and one of whom was prone to talking loudly for 40 to 90-minute stretches at a time. ("Young man, are you Muslim? Christian? Tourist? There are Muslim historic sites where we're going, I thought you might like to know," was their only communiqué to us save for offering crisps and "Hello, miss" when we ran into them at said historic site later in the day.)
It was stamped and finalized by the man sitting behind us on the plane home, who for the entire time of boarding kept telling each and every passenger that the plane was not full, so everyone should sit anywhere free, which I took to be a technique to insure a neighbor-free flight, until someone did sit down next to him despite several hints to the effect of underbooking, which turned him round, ostensibly, and he spent the best part of the flight talking to his neighbor loudly in a grating voice while I was operating on very few hours of sleep and being kicked regularly in the small of the back by the neighbor and leaned on by the guy in front.
Not to mention the constant line-cutting and the train rides where we were subjected to televisions blaring Uzbek and Russian series at full volume. Maybe I only take these things so hard when I'm sleep-deprived and experiencing invasions of my physical and sensory personal space. However, there is no explaining away the fact that I did not find life in Uzbekistan comfortable in many ways. It became increasingly obvious that while I may not be a xenophobic European, I certainly am a pampered European who likes her streets paved and lit, and solves any and all problems via Visa cards and internet. Where neither option is available, I am flummoxed.
No amount of beautiful architecture interspersed with picturesque quarters can help me brave the old town of Bukhara at night after a day of rain, for my hipster-European sneakers are ill-suited to sliding in the mud and trying to avoid winding mid-street aryks (irrigation ditches). Food that induces cramps and constant awareness of my entire digestive tract, added to the fact that not a single man and only about a third of the local women look attractive*, plus hordes of small children who turn into beggars at the sight of foreigners, chirping "hilow" and "bonzhor", and once even following us for two blocks begging in a droning monotone and stroking our arms in a disturbing manner, and I'm sure you'll be asking how I managed to enjoy any of the trip.
The answer to that lies in the terrain of impressionistic prose, to which I lean when writing about the better things in life (hence, incidentally, the lack of report about Venice; perhaps when I'm there again and not so stunned by the universal beauty of it that I can find something to complain about in the beginning). Most of the things I liked, however, go back to the same: all of it being so very unusual and different.
The insular organization of the cities (slum –> expansive stone square, home to three towering madāris –> slum known as "the old mahala", i.e. "the old quarter" –> another religious complex –> etc.) is not what I'm used to in my more frequent destinations, where narrow, inbred character and architectural polish are distributed evenly throughout most streets. Not that the slums do not encroach on the immaculate palaces. They establish themselves in the shape of souvenir stalls, punctuating the yard of every mosque and madrasah, as well as their immediate environs. Small wonder, as tourists rarely venture into the slums themselves, prefering the ancient and monumental to the living and breathing.
The life experience is also as different as can be. Twice, a friend and I wandered to a chaikhana with the rather urgent purpose of working each on our respective assignment, and found ourselves instead chugging endless cups of tea, talking and leaning back on the bench, affected by the blissful slow atmosphere of the place, the view of the pond framed by magnificent buildings, and the twang of rubābs from the speakers in the trees overhead. Countless times we bought things or stayed and admired things, or listened to stories we otherwise wouldn't have, lured in by the Arabian Nights accents and inflections of the locals and turns of phrase like "do not go away, a present for you" after buying a dress, or "half-price for you now, the evening bazaar" (at 5 pm, because at 6 it's dark and everything closes). In our Soviet childhoods, everything to do with Aladdin and Harun al-Rashid was spoken with the same lilt and set against the same white, sandy, and blue backdrop. I find this very hard to resist, so I listen, gaze, and buy away.
In Uzbekistan, one is constantly amazed at how much can be built from very little. This goes for the food, which, while disagreeing with me and being largely meat-based, is nonetheless varied and interesting, comprised though it is of vegetables, rice, and the ubiquitous flatbread. This goes also for the local handicrafts, most woven or embroidered, mere fabrics and thread blossoming in delicate, intricate, colorful designs which made me stare. I saw an Afghan carpet resembling Native American ones, the pattern only a sparse set of chevron stripes and arrows, but I would have paid dearly for it, such was the aesthetic impact. Luckily, it was in a museum, not a shop, and I didn't see any knock-offs, though I did look.
The list of other things which impressed me is very long, comprising such things as the strikingly welcoming style of communication at all hours of the day and night, the matter-of-fact kindness, the homes and communal buildings and their surprising similarity, the divine fruit and nuts, the abundance of kittens, the Jewish community, which like everywhere else has merged entirely with its surroundings, adopting all the prominent traits of the local culture and becoming an interesting local blend of Uzbek-faced Jewish people called either variations of Rovshan and Alisher or something deeply archaic and Biblical, who typically consider a medieval poetry recital a wedding reception kind of entertainment on a par with singing and dancing, and night-time readings in Jewish texts led by one of the most charming, most charismatic geniuses I've met.
I do not, however, have enough pages left in this notebook, the plane is very shaky (I doubt I'll be able to read my handwriting after), and the gabber behind me has (temporarily?) shut up, so that's a sorely needed opportunity to catch up on the work I was in no mood to do in Bukhara.
P.S. When I got up to stretch my legs after writing this, I saw that the young man who'd been leaning on me the entire time was whiling away the time by drawing impeccably even patterns of arches and minarets in his notebook. The unfathomable aesthetic sense of these people! One's only left to wonder why they dress in pleather, velour, and rhinestone-studded jersey all the time.
*Credit where credit is due: the 1/3 of the women who are beautiful, are so in a stunning, uncompromising way.
being incoherent is okay at four a.m.
Yeah I'm here, who said I wasn't.
This has been a month of firsts for me. A. and I trekked to Cairo from Jerusalem. As we were shuddering through our five-hour ride in a speeding van in the dark desert, it suddenly struck us that it was not just a new city we were about to experience, and not merely a new country. In fact, it was an entire continent. The word "Africa" had always seemed so distant. Actually, it still does. And yet we were a train ride away from Chad or Niger, places hitherto synonymous with "unreachable", and therefore "unreal". As was the entire experience. We were sitting in the back of a van full of sleeping Egyptians, having a whispered argument about the Suez channel and whether we'd crossed it or not. Later, we found out we had.
We were there just before the current tumultuous events, by the way, and might have been among the last people to see Meseti's beautiful wooden boat intact. The toy world found on Meseti's sarcophagus, with the wooden models still wearing scraps of fabric for skirts as they went about their toy lives, was one of the things to leave the most profound impression on me. Funny how some things get at you. When they said there were people injured, even dead, I was, for want of a better word, concerned. But when this boat appeared in the news, broken, I cried. Suddenly, it became so very real to me that some kind of a world was crashing down.
Before that, for the first time in my life (that I can recall at least), I went to the Israel Museum. We didn't spend too much time there, due to my embarrassingly short attention span and the sheer visual overload that the place inflicts on an unsuspecting citizen. However, we did see some awfully old and/or beautiful things. Including some sandal nails from some time B.C. Let me reiterate: funny how some things get at you. Small things. These are the nails that held someone's shoes together, as he or she walked this land two millennia ago. These are the dried-up dates someone neglected to eat at dinner. 2,000 years ago. "Eat your dates," said his or her mother then in a language I can speak now, "They're healthy."
Having returned from two weeks of intensive travel, I felt overcome by sluggishness. The snow, the early darkness, the thick clothing and clunky shoes, the freezing office were all extremely conducive to going home at 7 pm feeling like the day was over and spending five hours with the computer. So at some point I begged my brother for help and he graciously agreed to walk me by the hand to his capoeira class. The first time was last Monday. Last Wednesday I did a headstand. On my head. Using my hands for support. To support the bits of my body that weren't supported by my head. This, obviously, was not something I'd anticipated doing. Not to worry, I've not been brilliant with the rest of it. Still. A month of firsts indeed.
For some reason, this post is begging for an ending that may seem a bit of a non-sequitur, but follows the rest perfectly in my head. Today I learned, or remembered, that Buddy Holly died at twenty-three. After which, I listened to "That'll be the day" several times, thinking, I'm twenty-four. Twenty-four and a half this past January. It's 2011. And there still are things in the world for me to do for the first time.
i always wrap my things in separate paper parcels, officer, it's neater
How come when you're preparing to travel so many people surface immediately with urgent requests? Why is it those people have so many things they need taken to precisely the same country you're going to at precisely the same moment you're going there? And what, pray tell, is wrong with mail? Why do we have all these options, Fedex, UPS, DHL, and whatnot, only to have people calling me up two days before a trip to say, hi, you don't know me, but I heard you were going somewhere, would you mind taking something for someone?
Now, there used to be a perfect loophole: luggage limits. Sorry, wish I could help, but I've only got 20 kilos, and my swimsuit alone weighs four. But now people have learned to say first thing, it's not too heavy! Just a package! But it's very important it gets to him. So I'm left with no socially acceptable way to decline. Sure, sure, I mumble, go ahead, what's in it? Oh, just five books. About half a kilo each. So two and a half, maybe three. Six, of course it turns out, delivered to my door with sincere thanks and apologies for the inconvenience. When did it become okay to burden someone with a package a third of their entire luggage in size as long as you say thanks and sorry?
Then, of course, someone else needs to send something, and a third person, and before long we're running our own little delivery service. If only we just had to stick it in our suitcase and get it there. But then we also need to make sure it's picked up, right? So we get to this country were we are only going to stay a week, and before you can say "exploited" we're on the phone with people, arranging meetings. Yeah, they say, tomorrow's not good for me, how about you come round Monday? Lady, but you're not the only one I'm carrying parcels for, I've got my rounds! I've got the books for Jack, and the money for Jill, and there's also that package for the relatives! Do you mind, this is supposed to be a vacation!
By the time we're done packing, our luggage has less contents that belong to us than those that don't. How fun, then, to talk to security officers at the airport! Yeah, I packed this on my own. Yes, it's all mine. No, nobody gave me anything for anyone, who do you take me for, of course not. Of course.
how i got vacation tickets
We've been planning to have a winter vacation this year, so when I got a nice fat envelope for a translation—really, I've never held such a thick wad of bills before, although don't be mistaken, it's because they paid me in twenties—we decided to get the plane tickets right away, to have the largest expense behind us.
Usually, this kind of thing is my responsibility, so I logged on to the online booking page and selected the flight we'd set our hearts on already, one with two very long connections in Vienna, so we'd have the additional treat of spending an afternoon and a night in a magnificent city we'd never seen before. Once the flight was booked, the website gave me a printable receipt, and I immediately wired the money over to the agency. Meanwhile, the e-ticket arrived to my inbox. It said: 9 Jan V. to T. via Kiev, connection 5 hrs; 21 Jan T. to V. via Kiev, connection 7 hrs.
Now, Kiev is a city we have most definitely been to before. In particular, we've enjoyed its fabulous airport, reminiscent of the train station in A.'s native provincial town in Russia. We've actually missed a flight home from Kiev once and had to take an overnight train because we'd made the mistake of thinking that a cab would get us from the city to the airport in an hour and a half. It is obvious now that a five-hour connection would be just about enough to get down town and back without stopping, and provided there's no traffic.
Well, there was nothing to do but pick up the phone and call the booking agency. Hello, I said, I have a problem with reservation #xxxxxxx. Yes, the one that says NO CANCELLATIONS NO EXCHANGES NO REFUNDS underneath the four-digit price. Yes, I booked it myself just now. Yes, I've already paid for it. Yes, I'd like to cancel that, please. Why yes, I'd love a discount code to the same amount on my next purchase with you! Thank you!—After this highly improbable act of mercy on the part of the clerk, I only had to wait for my code to come in and re-book.
The next day (yesterday), the code was sitting there in my inbox, and I rushed gleefully back to the booking page. This time, I double-checked where I was clicking on, and made sure to get Vienna and the long connection, not the option listed right below it, of a mere 40-minute transfer in Vienna's unfamiliar airport (we wouldn't want any discomfort the second time round, right?). The tickets were booked, the price difference paid, the confirmation mailed to me, and happy announcements made to our friends in Destination Country.
Today I decided to tell our friend in Vienna, who was a big part of the reason for this whole NO KIEV WE WANT VIENNA hullabaloo, the times of our arrivals. January 9th is the day we're flying there. The day we're flying back, deliberated over for over a week with regard to our lonely cats and our limited leave from work, is January 21st. Except that I'd marked this as the day we fly out, so most of the journey would be on the 22nd. A Saturday. When A. can't fly because he has severe Judaism. On an unrelated note, I hate religion.
To sum up, this, children, is why I shouldn't be permitted to do things. Especially things involving money, where a mistake would (and will) cost upwards of $200 to fix. Oh, and that lovely second night in Vienna? Will be all mine to enjoy. Alone.
in jerusalem
The airport smells of palm trees. A Filipino cleaning lady is sitting in the empty corridor, rocking back and forth with a note and a cellphone in her hand. Are you beseder, okay?, I ask in Hebrew. She looks up uncertainly. Hebrew no, sorry, she says. English? Russian?, I ask. Ruski, she lights up. Is everything horosho, okay? Do you need help? She sighs and gets up to point at something for me. No no, I protest, I help you, yes? You need? She rocks her head slowly, turns to her supplies cart, hangs about for a while then pushes it off down a passage.
Jerusalem smells of spicy meat, hot asphalt, something sweet. At night it smells of flowers fluttering in the light wind from the hills. It does not smell of figs, though when I come out into the courtyard they are sticky under my bare feet. Sadeh?, asks the postman. No, I reply. Water bill in their name, he says. I shrug – okay. Sign here, he says, giving me the bill in an envelope, smaller than the one already on the mirror, in someone else's name, placed there by somebody other than me.
I like the way time works here (night is just day with the lights switched off, it comes so early and everything takes so little notice of it), the smells and the tastes. Israel tastes to me like breakfast dairy, like freshly baked pita bread of which I eat entirely too much, like the salt of the sea in which I bathe entirely too little, like the curried meats I don't eat anymore, but their taste lingers, like bottled water, like fresh fruit of so many names and colours.
flying notes
The airport in our city is a tiny one, consisting of two halls: pre-check-in and post-check-in (with a duty free kiosk with alcohol and chocolate). The lavatories have a storey to themselves, glorious expanses with numerous stalls and mirrors on every wall, so that one can watch oneself from every angle and see in reality how one becomes a crowd in and outside oneself. There are echoes and soap in every dispenser.
There are no people downstairs. That is because there are not so many people generally in the airport. For instance, there is never a shortage of power outlets, despite their rather limited quantity. This might be a sign of outstanding human flow management; they do seem to be able to fill the planes, at least to a certain extent.
Miraculously, however, there are always familiar faces at the airport. Those faces usually have certain distinctive features, placing them in a certain, evidently almost nomadic, ethnic group. 'Hi,' says High Ranking Community Executive. 'Have you seen Notorious Religious Figure? I'm sort of hiding from him.' 'Hi,' you say. 'Yeah, I've seen him. Good thing he doesn't recognize me.'
'Hi,' says Notorious Religious Figure. 'What is your name? Where did you spend Important Traditional Holiday?' 'Hello,' you say. 'We went to Religious Organization #2.' 'Ohh,' a resounding groan. 'Why did you go there? Did you not know I had a beautiful celebration which was entirely free?' By this time Religious Figure is already towering imposingly over your seat on the plane. You feel somewhat responsible for calming him down so that he does not scare the other passengers. 'We found out too late,' you say. The plane takes off.
In the transit airport you try to keep an eye on the Figure, but the next plane is flying to the Holy Land, so he is lost in the throng of his likes, engaged in Vigorous Religious Activity against the darkening window looking out on the departure field, full of lights planes flickering cars workers luggage trucks things. You are halfway there, at least you've already caught up with the holylandish laid-back attitude towards time. Your flight is being delayed, there's time to read. The Religious Activity ought to have been performed several hours ago, but Providence must not disregard time zones. There's time to read.
some statistics
Number of days spent in Ukraine: 7
Number of cities visited: ~11
Number of hostile encounters with local police: 2.5
Number of trains missed: 2
Number of times addressed as a boy: 2 ('How old are you, lad?' – while boarding a train; 'You, boy, what do you think you're doing?' – for sitting on a windowsill)
Average temperature outside: 5C (41F)
Number of warm(ish) garments packed: 1.5
Cumulative weight of dirt removed from body and clothes upon return: ~725 pounds
Cumulative weight of bread eaten instead of food over the week: ~3 tons
Number of dubious compliments received from close ones: close to infinity
Number of laughs and amount of fun had on the trip: even closer to infinity
Number of photos brought back: ~320 (but, State of Flickr account: expired; Level of comfort with Picasa: zero)
Number of pages to study for one of three classes tomorrow: 30
Things missed most: privacy, sleep, local friends, bath products, razors, nail clippers, warm sweaters, clean jeans, the gym, real coffee, e-mail, J.S.Foer's Everything is Illuminated, Will & Grace, my language classes
Things missed least: the other classes, the orthodontist, distance from friends, deadlines
650 words about teeth
This post is supposed to be a reflection of my current condition, which is: overtired, under-healed from a cold, very cranky. Unfortunately, there are no adequate literary means for that in my possession, so if you usually need to read words to yourself quietly (no need to be embarrassed here), use a croaky voice and interject every second sentence with a mighty sniff. Otherwise, feel free to imagine me doing it for you. Now, on to the point.
Some relationships have what we may call a differentiation point. For example, that point in a conversation between two people who have so far been nothing but charmed by each other, when there comes the question of age and the reply is (a couple decades) short of the expected. Or when two people are conversing and one mentions casually that English is not his or her first language. From that point on, nothing is ever the same. The one is plagued by questions (God, did I just compliment her choice of entree? Does that make me a pedophile?? or, Was this a good joke or a bad mistake? How do I correct it and remain PC?) while the other is usually just thinking WHY DID I BLAB THAT! The past relationship is no more.
For me, this point is probably the braces and the reasons behind them. Despite my fairly evident tendency to overshare online, when it comes to real people I would rather their knowledge of the issue were directly proportionate to our closeness. That is, the vast majority of the people I encounter should remain completely ignorant. It is just that when you tell people that you are going through more or less what their grandparents went through just recently, it tends to cast a certain tinge on their further way of relating to you.
With that in mind, imagine my elation at the news that the route of our upcoming teaching trip to Ukraine will include every Jewish guesthouse from the capital onwards. A little insight into our millenia-old culture: a Jewish guesthouse means gender-based rooms of six or more, with shared bathrooms. What you are thinking if you are a healthy, octogenarian-health-issue-less person, is – how the Gehenna will this couple survive a week of separation without that taking a toll on their marriage and eventually leading to painful divorce?? Commendable care for our union which we appreciate, and why did I not think of that? Because all I heard was, shared bathrooms, ringing in my ears like 'Next!' at the executioner's office.
In my view, there are two ways this could go. One, being forced to brush in public, letting people observe my hour-long mutant procedure with the teeth. Okay, who am I kidding, this stage is long past. Still, the sight of braces being brushed, however briefly, is blood-chilling and will certainly reveal more than desirable about me. The other way is to em-brace (oh, hilarious) the situation and avoid brushing my teeth altogether, which would result by the end of the trip in me smelling like the indigenous people of Ukraine – that meant in the best possible way, but having in mind that there are very few possible good ways of meaning that. A bonus option has been generously offered by A.; that is to use him as a bouncer to drive everyone out of the public bathroom and then guard me through my dental hygiene. If ever you wondered what true chivalry was, this is it.
All that said, one might suggest this is blown wildly out of proportion. One might insinuate even that this post is about nothing at all. One might be right, but then one is cordially invited to a) find other things for me to blog about; b) find another way for me to express my worries about everything and nothing, currently aggravated beyond crayzeee with threee eee's; or c) kindly bugger off.
escape into blogland
For the past several days my mind has been an informational and emotional Alcatraz: plenty of treasure on the inside, nothing ever gets out. The trip was so overwhelming and so tiring that I felt as though my ability to share had been swept away. I was all left back there, exhausted.
Every time I'd close my eyes, I'd immediately fall asleep and see people laughing, frowning, waving at me. My favourite girls in dresses wet with seawater, my dear boys with stubble on their chins and hoarse voices from the singing and the endless arguing. I saw countless breathtaking Crimean views – mountains, plains, the sea – but none as beautiful as my friends. Then, again and again, I'd force myself awake and find myself alone, hundreds of miles away from the people I regard as my world.
I thought I needed a timeout to get back on track, but it seems like that timeout could go on forever. So I'm easing myself into normalcy, browsing Etsy, working out, editing photos (half-thinking of selling some prints), drinking Coffee of the Week at the Coffee Inn, following Olympic basketball (Lithuania lost to Spain in the semi-finals, bah), watching Wall-E (the cuteness!), reading all your blogs, trying on my own blogging hat once again. Welcome back, me.
Hello everyone, I'm sorry I'm away all the time with no posts and hardly any comments. Lots of things have been happening, among others: A's 22nd, my first sort-of-wedding gig, A teaching me to swim, lots of inner turmoil, and mad preparations for the camp we are now leaving to work in.
We're flying to Odessa in the morning, then taking an overnight bus to the actual place of the camp. It will hopefully be two wonderful Crimean weeks in the mountains by the sea, and when we come back I'll have stories to tell, pictures to post, and lots of time to catch up on all your blogs.
Make sure you enjoy the summer and eat lots of greens. You'll regret it if you don't – December will come and there will be no veggies, however hard you crave them! (Unless you go to the supermarket and buy some mummified imported stuff, but that's neither here nor there.) Okay, bye now.
hi-ho, hi-ho, it's back from work we go
Dear diary, it's been a while. In these past couple of weeks the following things happened:
1) our third wedding anniversary. Last poll showed we are both still pleased with the arrangement, so yeah, staying married for now. If this sounds cynical to you, rest assured we had lots of time for sappy professions of love as we boarded and rode an overnight train to Moscow. How creative is a second-class sleeping carriage for an anniversary venue?
2) we had a seminar in Moscow for work. You might have gathered as much already. After all, we only ever go to Russia, where most of our friends and all of A's family live, for work. It seems that all we did this week was ride various trains and buses, wait for people, and argue with them. Oh, and goof around, of course. After all, these are the people we love.
3) I turned 22. A gloomy day it was indeed, despite the numerous gifts and celebratory text messages I got. I'd never spent my birthday bickering with people about insignificant aspects of reading texts with children before, and I'd rather it didn't happen ever again. Oh, and we were hungry most of that day. And I didn't get a birthday cake, which is plain sinful.
4) I read 'A Midsummer-night's Dream' for the first time from beginning to end, and most of Neal Stephenson's 'Quicksilver', and there are two more books of his Baroque Cycle remaining to read, and Pratchett's latest, 'Making Money'. Nothing bad about that.
What did you do? This is not a rhetorical question.
a penny for my thoughts won't be enough
This trip turned out to be a learning trip. It was so rich with revelations there was practically no room left for much else.
I learned once again about real friendship, which doesn't always need to involve personal presence, but is all the more exciting when it does. A friendship I value is a lucky, tricky, strange, full, and happy convergence of two people who couldn't be more different or more alike. I am lucky to have several of these.
I learned about being the object of the emotions other people usually evoke in myself: concern, kindness, incomprehension, puzzlement, impatience, endless patience, affection, and a desire to share. I haven't thought much about the way I react to these, and it is probably time to give it more consideration.
I learned a very important lesson about coping with loneliness. I was by myself a lot on the trip, however this was not the self-sufficient solitude of choice, but rather the desolate loneliness of choicelessness. The hours I spent this way left me despairing, with nothing to apply myself to, scared. I want to avoid these.
Finally, I learned something about writing. Someone gave me 'Lost in Translation' by Eva Hoffman to read, and the slow, soft, reflective style of someone who went through assimilating a whole new language as their main means of self-expression is an epiphany for me. There is much food for thought in this.
tested and testy
Good thing nobody reads this blog, because otherwise I would have to apologize for being N/A all the time these days. Partly, time is to blame – I am finally starting to lose the momentum I gained by taking part in NaBloPoMo last year. But largely it's like this lyric (points if you can identify it without using Google):
So, take this down:
I just feel so beat
and I think it's time
to admit defeat
I thought I got mine
but that uphill climbing
is never through.
I think the song is about relationships and suchlike, but I am taking the liberty to apply it to matters more mundane, id est, the end of term. Ten exams, people. Ten freaking exams which, I'll have you know, I've been acing so far, and that made me exhausted enough to fail my driving test. You heard it here first.
I am devastated about the driving, and have been falling asleep and/or bursting in tears at random times for a while now, which behaviour is usually restricted to times of severe PMS, but evidently, exams have the same effect on me. (Soon they should be issuing a governmental ban on whining on blogs, have faith.)
There is only one exam left tomorrow, after which, no matter the result, I am packing up and taking a train to glorious St. Petersburg where some of the most fabulous people I know happen to reside. The shop called today to say that my lens has been fixed – just in time and free of charge. So photos shall abound forsooth.


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Transparent Color Disabled
jaymickgee last edited by
Hi, I have been using Manga Studio for years (love it!) but today I was working and noticed that my Transparent Color (next to Black and White in the Tool bar and Color Palette) is disabled when I have a Vector Layer active to draw on (this doesn't change if the layer is 2-bit or 32-bit). When I click on a Raster Layer, the Transparent Color becomes available again. I thought I might have accidentally hit a hotkey that changed the settings, but every new page or story I start has the same issue. It's making me think I never really could draw Transparent in the first place? I can't remember. Please help! Thanks in advance!
ps - I'm working in Manga Studio EX4
garlam last edited by
CSP has transparent vectors but it's a no in MS4EX.
jaymickgee last edited by
@garlam Thanks very much for the response! That makes sense, I must have just imagined that I could paint transparent vectors. Thanks again!

subset: commoncrawl


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The Batman & Catwoman Cash Slot is a retro 5 reels and 25 pay lines video slot powered by Playtech. The slot is themed around the dark knight and the ever scheming femme fatale, Catwoman. One of her biggest trademarks is her love for taking things that do not belong to her. This online slot is based on the DC Batman Classic TV Series from the 1960's and Playtech has managed to add some nostalgia to the slot by sticking to retro, old school design and sound that complement the original series.
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Bonus features and Gameplay
Cat Burglar Bonus:
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Batman vs Catwoman Free Spins:
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Progressive Jackpot:
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Where to Play this Batman Slot?
This online slot can be played at BGO casino!


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The way people work is changing dramatically. Everyone is bringing their personal devices into the office, which has led to the BYOD (Bring Your Own Device) trend.
A recent Infotech Indaba survey found that the use of personal and unmanaged devices and applications within businesses is at an all time high. "The consumerization of IT is happening within businesses despite those businesses not necessarily being ready for it," says the report. "Beyond simply accepting the presence of consumer devices, businesses should establish a base level, proactive and open approach to their use."
In the survey, 82% of IT decision makers ranked security as a barrier to accepting personal and unmanaged devices into the business, followed by managing those devices at 66%.
But doing nothing — or banning those devices — is impractical. Also, many employees are using their personal devices for productivity reasons, which ultimately benefits the business.
Mobile device usage in organizations is expected to quickly outpace traditional forms of computing, surpassing desktops and laptops by 2013, according to Infotech Indaba. Considering that 30% of mobile devices are lost or stolen, it is left with a management and security conundrum.
Are you going to support Apple's iOS in a Microsoft environment? Can you identify a jailbroken iPhone and prevent that from accessing the corporate network? Can you block employees from syncing their corporate data with iCloud?
IT has a lot of questions, but there aren't simple answers. From a technology standpoint, the industry is immature, and vendors are responding to these trends with a wide variety of solutions. From managing identities and network access (like Cisco ISE), to management platforms that are incorporating support for new devices like Microsoft's System Center Configuration Manager (SCCM), to "pure play" solutions from a host of new vendors like Airwatch and Good Technologies, to client virtualization as a strategy.
For example, Microsoft's SCCM is shifting toward a user centric management model, designed to put users first rather than systems. SCCM 2012 is attempting to provide "lite management" capabilities for the iPhone, Android and Windows 7 Phone through an Exchange ActiveSync connector; however, deep management is still a post release promise unless you look at management pack add ons (like the one offered by Quest).
Then there's the niche approach, which includes RIM, Good Technologies and AirWatch Technologies. RIM is tackling multi device management with BlackBerry mobile fusion (it recently acquired German MDM firm ubitexx), which manages the BlackBerry environment along with mobile devices running iOS and Android.
While platform offerings tend not to provide deep level management, niche offerings tend not to manage a whole lot but they manage the mobile space very well. For IT, there are a lot of choices —and a lot of confusion.
Aside from technology, there's also a human component, and that's where things get complicated.
What rules are employees subjected to if they use their personal devices for work? What happens if the device breaks and it's not under warranty? Is IT going to pay for or support any of this?
Businesses and their IT departments need to develop strategies that balance user demand for access to these devices and applications with the organization's own capabilities and requirements, recommends Infotech Indaba. Its survey found that 50 per cent of organizations that rolled out MDM had improved access for remote and mobile employees, as well as increased satisfaction for both IT and end users.
Turning to a trusted advisor can help organizations sort through the options and develop a roadmap for the future. "We've got the resources to help and an agnostic approach — we're not going to advocate either a platform or pure play approach," says Bryan Rusche, Manager of Solutions Marketing. " It's about understanding an organization's requirements, what they have today and what will help them support this client revolution."


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On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, the lights will go up on a world premiere musical at the Old Globe in Balboa Park.
Audiences will get their first look at "Some Lovers" written by Tony-Award winner Steven Sater and Academy and Grammy-Award winning composer Burt Bacharach.
Set in New York City on Christmas Eve, Ben and Molly read O. Henry's "The Gift of the Magi." In the classic story, a husband sells his watch to buy a comb for his wife's long hair. The wife cuts her hair to buy a chain for her husband's prized watch.
At the end of the reading, Ben and Molly discuss what may have happened to the fictional couple.
And there, Steven Sater and Burt Bacharach take the audience along on a "timeless love story that takes place over 20 years. "
Jason Danieley, who plays Ben, starred in "Next to Normal" on Broadway but may be most recognized for his performance as Lt. Joe Cable in the Emmy-nominated PBS Great Performance airing of "South Pacific" at Carnegie Hall.
Michelle Duffy,who plays Molly, may be familiar to "Desperate Housewives" fans as Orson's ex-girlfriend Judy. To Old Globe fans, she'll be familiar as Vet in the world premiere of "The Boswell Sisters" in 2001.
The young Molly is played by Jenni Barber who you may recognize from "The Electric Company" on PBS . The young Ben is played by Andrew Mueller making his Globe debut.
Thirteen years ago, The Old Globe produced the world premiere of the musical "What the World Needs Now" featuring Bacharach's music, but the new production represents his first original composition for the stage since the Grammy-award winning "Promises, Promises" in 1968.
Previews run Nov. 26-Dec. 6 at the Sheryl and Harvey White Theatre. Opening night is scheduled for December 7.
For show schedule and ticket information, go to the Old Globe. Tickets begin at $35.


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Open up your home through our great range of French patio doors. These French doors are crafted to give you maximum light and easy access in and out of your property, but also offer complete security for that extra peace of mind. Available in a range of styles and with the option of added sidelights, these French doors are fully finished in white, so there's no need to worry about decorating once installed.
French doors can be a great option if you are looking to brighten up your home. By using these doors you will enable the natural light to flow in and give you ease of access to your decking or patio. Whether you would like to bring the outdoors in or to just sit and admire your lovely garden, French doors are perfect for this. At doorsdirect2u we have a great range of French doors that will allow you to create a beautiful living space whilst offering a good range of designs and styles.
At Doorsdirect2u our French doors will make an ideal entrance point to the back of your home, allowing easy access to your garden whilst improving your house's appearance.
Our range of UPVC French doors offer fantastic heat retention, so as to ensure your energy bills will remain as low as can be. All our external French doors are built with safety in mind they use toughened safety glass so they do not shatter. This safety glass also means minimal heat loss.
Some people may be put off by French patio doors due to security fears. Every French patio door that we supply comes with toughened safety glass. They also have high security multi-locking systems with 3-D adjustable hinges and shoot bolts. All the glazing is internally beaded for even more security. Our French patio doors are anti-snap, anti-bump, anti-pick ,and anti-drill which are the four most popular methods of breaking locks.
Oak external French doors
All our timber doors come with Jeld Wen manufacturer's guarantee. They can come in either solid oak or real oak veneer. There are many sizes to choose from so that you can find the right one for your opening.
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We offer a comprehensive range of made to measure PVCu French doors, patio doors, external doors and windows all at very competitive prices. Please contact us at [email protected] for a quotation.


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Nationwide: Property market still buoyant across Britain
According to the Nationwide the property market across Britain remains buoyant and showed no signs of cooling down in February. Prices are 9.4% higher on average across Britain than a year ago with many analysts believing that prices have a way to go if the Help To Buy Scheme is left in place. Some commentators believe that the government should reduce the upper limit on house purchases under the scheme. Currently the scheme allows buyers to purchase a property up to £600k but many experts feel that this has caused priced to rise to unsustainable levels and that the maximum purchase price should be set and £300k – £400k. Of course there are many others that want it to remain at £600k because £400k will not buy you very much in London.
House prices across Britain have risen for the last 14 consecutive months according to Nationwide with the average price of a home now standing at £177,000. This is the highest level since April 2008 and is likely to roll through the pre-crisis levels soon. Price growth is being supported by many factors but mortgages at very affordable levels along with the growing economy and the Help To Buy Schemes have helped. Prices are also being driven up by the lack of available property to buy and this is likely to continue in the short term. Some have accused the government of stoking up the property market without providing new homes for people to buy
Average earners need to see their salaries doubled to keep up with rising house prices
If average earners are to get on the housing ladder they would need to have seen their wages more than double over the last decade. This is despite the crash in 2008 and the subsequent problems that this brought with it. The property market has seen a significant recovery in prices whereas wages have seen very little growth. This means that property values are now totally out of sync with wages and average earners in London would need to see wages increase by £100,000 per year in order to buy in some parts of London. These figures have been put forward by Shelter, the housing charity that have carried out research from 1997 to the present date.
Since 2003 house prices on average have gone up by £1000,000. This compares to the annual average salary that has risen by just £6,750. If you take London and the south-east out of the equation the average house price across the country has risen by £73,000. You can see why house prices look very inflated when wages growth has been so low. Average earnings have a long way to catch up and house prices look as though they will continue to rise further particularly if there are not enough new affordable homes being built to satisfy demand
Help To Buy Criticised By First Time Buyers Group
The government's flag ship policy Help To Buy Scheme has been slammed by PricedOut. The organisation which campaigns for more affordable housing said that the whilst the scheme had help just under 19,000 first time buyers get onto the housing ladder a further 245,000 were now unable to buy a home because prices had spiralled out of control. The group has calculated English Housing Survey's income profile of private renters along with figures from the Office Of national Statistics on the latest house price index to show that three-quarters of private renters could no longer afford to buy their own property.
This is on the basis that a borrower would not borrow more that four times their income. With house prices predicted to rise by a further 8% in 2014 and wages growth not likely to increase significantly there is more concern that more first time buyers are going to be locked out of the market.
Although there are other factors that are pushing up prices the shear volume of buyers that are out there along with the lack of new homes being built the Help To Buy Scheme may have the opposite effect of what is was rolled out for. Instead of helping buyers get on the ladder it is actually inhibiting borrowers from buying. Of course there are two sides to this and many commentators have said that the Help to Buy Scheme has been the main driver for the housing market and has pulled the country out of the recession but this still doesn't help those that still can't afford to buy.
First time buyers being drawn in by Help To Buy scheme
Help To Buy benefitting first time buyers
Estate agents are reporting a surge in first time buyer registrations as the number of people looking to buy their first home increases. Many of the buyers are borrowing money with the help of the taxpayer backed scheme. The boost in numbers has been welcomed by the government who say that they are giving families and individuals the opportunity to get a foot on the housing ladder.
The number of mortgages being approved has also risen along with completed sales. The picture is very different in the north of the country where the Help To Buy scheme has yet to take hold. Much of the activity in the south has been put down to the number of foreign buyers that have been buying in the south-east of Britain. This has pushed prices higher and has had an adverse affect on the number of homes that are available for first time buyers.
Londoners being forced to buy outside of London
New evidence suggests that Londoners are now being forced to move out to the suburbs so that they can buy a home. The high house prices in London and the south east is affecting the growth of many businesses in ~London because they are struggling to find staff that can afford the rents in and around london.
The government has said that it is doing everything it can to encourage new homes to be built. The Chancellor announced in the Autumn Statement that the government would be giving a further £1bn of new funding to help boost the supply of new homes in Manchester and Leeds
House price inflation continues upwards
Good News For The Economy
There is further good news today from official figures that show the economic recovery is continuing and with house prices heading upwards across the country as a whole. This is indeed good news for homeowners but of course many first time buyers are still struggling to get onto the housing ladder despite the Help To Buy scheme that has been brought forward. The scheme has been welcomed by many people as the shot in the arm that the property market needs but has been lambasted by others who are concerned that there simply isn't enough houses for purchasers to move into.
Cheap Money Is Fuelling Property Market
The recent increases have been attributed to the cheap money that is available which has had a dramatic effect on the number of buyers looking. What worries many market watchers is that the house market is pushed up to levels that are not sustainable and that interest rates start to go up and the market then takes a hit. This has happened before and it will happen again. The market would appear to be going from strength to strength at the moment but many would say that it is being fuelled by the various schemes that have been put out there by the government and the Bank Of England. Once these schemes are withdrawn and interest rates start to go up as they will inevitably have to let's hope the government ensure that there is not another collapse.
Bank Of England Keeps An Eye On Property Bubble
Bank Of England Continues To Watch Housing Market
he Bank Of England has said that there is not a property happening in Britain but that it would maintain it's vigilance and would take the necessary action to calm the market if it felt prices were rising at unsustainable levels. The bank has said that it had a number of tools at its disposal to cool price increases but it did not want to increase interest rates as this would choke off the recovery in the economy. House prices rose 3.3% across Britain in the 12 months to July as a whole with London steaming ahead with an increase of 10%.
Labour To Build 200,000 New Homes Every Year
Many commentators are concerned that there is still not enough houses being built to satisfy demand and that prices could rise by more than the preferred 5% per annum. They are worried that the schemes that have been introduced by the government and the bank have led to many buyers coming into the market and not enough housing stock to satisfy the demand. They are also worried that the second part of the Help To Buy Scheme which will be rolled out in January 2014 will further fuel house price inflation.
The Labour leader has said that his party would build 200,000 new homes every year by the year 2020. It is argued that this would alleviate the house price increases and would also help many families that are simply unable to find an affordable home.
Please tell us if you are looking to sell any type of unmodernised property in London
Related articles
- No housing bubble, but Bank of England says it is watching closely – Reuters UK (uk.reuters.com)
- How to spot a housing bubble (killerinvestorblog.wordpress.com)
Sitting Tenants Highest Prices Paid
Sitting Tenants Properties Wanted
If you are selling with a sitting tenant we can help you. We pay up to 90% of vacant values for properties with sitting tenants. We offer a one stop service for landlords. Fed up with your tenants? Many tenants are unwilling to allow viewings on their property which can sometimes make the property difficult to sell. Most of these tenants have been in residence for many years and quite rightly have the right to refuse entry to anybody. This is not a problem for us as we can buy your property without an internal viewing!
Therefore when a sale takes place on a protected tenancy the buyer will generally have to purchase the property without actually viewing the property internally. This can sometimes cause a problem if the house or flats is not a run of the mill property which means the buyer will have to take a view on the deal. Of course a discount will apply for these types of investments as the tenant has the right to stay in the property until they die or decide to move out. Very few tenants move out because they have a good tenancy and will never get another tenancy on such favourable terms.
Sitting Tenants – Protected Tenancies
You may be wondering why an investor would want to buy a protected tenancy and the answer is quite simple. Eventually the property is going to become vacant which is when it can be sold hopefully for a profit. Providing house prices increase the landlord will sell the house when it becomes vacant. From a landlord's point of view you need to have capital to invest in these investments because they are unmortgageable in the current climate. So if a protected tenancy is sold for £250,000, it must be bought with cash as no bank will lend against it. Therefore you have to leave the cash in the property until it becomes vacant which could be twenty years or more from now.
Of course you might get lucky and the house may become empty 12 months after you have purchased it but this is definitely the exception rather than the rule. These properties are acquired for the long-term and you should not expect the house to become vacant in the near future. The tenant has security of tenure which means that they can stay in their home until they die. You are not able to increase the rent of your own accord as this will be done by the rent office or the rent assessment panel that deals with most aspects of the tenancy. You will be entitled to a rent increase every two years. The increase will be linked to the retail prices index and normally takes a couple of weeks to be implemented.
These types of tenancies are not for everyone as they do require a little specialist knowledge and considerable cash reserves. We have been buying these houses and flats with sitting tenants across Britain and would welcome the opportunity to discuss your tenancy with you. Please call our offices for an informal chat.


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FruitCake: Moist
FruitCake is about to get very WET. This is FruitCake: Moist AKA the official afterparty for MOIST 2.0 + Level Nightclub.
We're holding the event on the 3rd floor of the club previously known as Level with Dj Roberto Styles.
Admission is $10 at the door (no pre-sales due to limited capacity). Please enter via the back alley. Unfortunately, the venue is not accessible as there are steep stairs to gain access.
Please note that there will not be a drag performance at this FruitCake but there will be some queens in attendance.
Venue Note:
The host venue abides by safety and security standards which include the use of proper footwear and having two pieces of identification available at all times. You will not be permitted inside the venue if you are wearing flip-flops or sandals and may be denied entry if unable to provide identification at request. Thank you! Let's party.


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For anyone who hasn't heard of them, the ESMA's are an international online awards ceremony to recognise those who 'enrich the online world for thousands of equestrians globally.'
I'm nominated in the uber competitive category for 'Best use of social media by an amateur horseperson.' As you can imagine I'm delighted to be a finalist, and would welcome support from anyone who has enjoyed my online offerings. You can cast your votes here, and if you'd like to send a vote my way, you'll find Headstrong Equestrian in category 5.
Anyone who wishes to find out more about Headstrong Equestrian and to see if you think I'm a worthy winner, you can do so here on my website, on my Facebook page, on Twitter, or on YouTube.
Thanks for all your support! Nicki x


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Vladimov's particular distinction was as a dissident of immense moral courage, and as the author of Faithful Ruslan, one of the defining literary texts of the post-Stalin period. His life was one of constant vicissitudes, but his authority and fortitude remained firm to the end.
Born Georgi Volosevich in Kharkov, Ukraine, of a Jewish mother and a father of mixed Polish and Belarusian origin, Vladimov studied at the Suvorov Military Academy and Leningrad University, graduating in law in 1953. His mother had already fallen foul of the official anti-semitic campaign, and Vladimov himself felt under threat.
His first novel, The Great Ore (1961), although on a typically Soviet industrial theme, attracted widespread praise for its unconventional treatment of the individualistic main character. The next novel, Three Minutes Of Silence (1969), also had a production theme, but the hero, a sailor in the White Sea fishing fleet, was a feckless youth, quite unlike a traditional hero. The book was heavily censored and Vladimov was accused of "perverting Soviet reality".
Following this debacle, Vladimov became a literary outcast and, after meeting Andrei Sakharov, began to play a major part in the dissident movement, boldly revoking his membership of the Writers' Union and becoming head of the Moscow branch of Amnesty International.
His most influential work, Faithful Ruslan, was written over a period of many years, and, in the 1970s, circulated widely in samizdat, where it was attributed to many different writers, including Solzhenitsyn. This brilliant allegory concerns an Alsatian guard dog after Nikita Khrushchev's closure of the prison camps; the dog's sudden release leads to disorientation and tragedy, and readers had no difficulty in seeing a parallel with the USSR's moral confusion after the Stalinist nightmare. Following its publication in Germany in 1982, the novella was translated into many European languages.
Vladimov's interest in the war and the army had begun heroically at the age of 12, when he ran away from home to defend the front against the Germans (too young to fight, he was promptly returned to his mother). The army entered his fiction in 1981 with a two-act comedy, The Sixth Soldier, which had to be published abroad. The play anticipated his later writing about the cruelty and absurdity of the Red army towards its own soldiers and others.
By this time Vladimov's life was being made intolerable by the KGB; some of his experience of harassment and its effect on family life is recorded in a satirical story, Pay No Attention, Maestro, published in 1983 in Germany, which highlighted many absurd aspects of Soviet life, including the rivalry between the KGB and the militia. Shortly before this, he and his second wife, the journalist Natalia Kuznetsova, decided to emigrate to Germany; within two months, they were stripped of their Soviet citizenship.
In 1984, Vladimov became editor of the Russian journal Facets, published in Frankfurt, though two years later he was dismissed for failing to toe the line of the journal's owners.
Financial and personal difficulties ensued, but in 1994 he produced his last major work, a novel about the retaking of Kiev during the second world war, The General And His Army. This bold, fictionalised account is notable for its portrait of the feared counter-intelligence organisation Smersh, and the true story of General Vlasov, whose army believed that taking the German side would help restore democracy in Russia. It won a prize for best Russian novel of 1994, and the Russian Booker the following year.
Vladimov's Russian citizenship was restored in 2000, and he was allocated a flat in Peredelkino, the writers' colony near Moscow. He continued, however, to live most of his final years in Germany. He is survived by his third wife, Evgenia, and Marina, the daughter of his first marriage.
· Georgi Nikolaevich Vladimov (Volosevich), writer, born February 19 1931; died October 19 2003


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Geography Yakoo's World Nations of the World
Year 7s watch the song and they are then linked to a country or location in the video clip and they investigate elements of human geography in that country, elements of physical geography and elements of environmental geography going on in that country/place. Great little min project / homework for students to do independent enquiries with:)
Then to extend link to http://bit.ly/dfG1Np 7 wonders campaign website. Students check to see is their a wonder nominee that is on the list? If not is there a neighbouring country that has one? If not can they nominate a physical wonder from their country and a heritage building? Or a industrial wonder from there?


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Paris Nights/ New York Mornings
I was thinking of something to post and this song came to mind. There have been many things on my mind-- and not in a bad way at all. I've been very, hmm, I guess inspired is the right word. I've been wanting to do so many things lately but I have to remember to maintain a healthy balance of everything. I don't wanna grow up too fast. After all, I have 2 years left of being a teenager. Might as well make the most of it, haha. So being the organized person I am, I wrote everything down so I don't forget all my ideas, haha. I hope that helps! I really want to do so many things! I want to read tons of books, make a bunch of stuff, draw all the clothes I envision in my mind ,but I can only do a little of each at a time. Here's to time management! I really want to start feeling more productive again. Somehow working on getting good grades isn't enough. What to do, what to do (besides pray, that is)? For now, I'll just sing along to this lovely song by the amazing Corinne Bailey Rae. Oh, and I love that blue dress she's wearing! She looks fabulous in it! That's all for now. Hope you had a great Saturday! :]
Smiling at the rain 'cause you hold me close
My best dress on underneath this old coat
Walking down Bleecker, no one is awake yet
-Paris Nights/New York Mornings, Corinne Bailey Rae
Posted by Guia at 3/20/2011 12:07:00 AM
Labels: Corinne Bailey Rae, music
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Discover Your Softer Side
21st May 2018
Brighten up your Mondays
Get your week off to a fabulous start by treating yourself to one of these beauties! Pure, soft, luxury cashmere is ideal for spring and with so many different styles in store, you're sure to find the perfect look for you. Team with your favourite jeans for effortless, easy style every day.
Our cashmere collection is the perfect addition to your spring wardrobe – whether you love summer brights, subtle shades or girly pinks. So why not discover your softer side this season and shop online or in store? We only wish you could feel the luxurious cashmere softness through your screen!
Colour Pop
Brighten up your wardrobe with a gorgeous pop of pure colour – just in time for summer. This luxurious cashmere top features three-quarter length sleeves and a stunning swallow design in green, pink, red and grey. Style with a great-fitting pair of jeans – from skinnies to cropped – for the perfect outfit, day or night.
Estheme cream multi bird print sweater
Laid-back Luxe
The ultimate in contemporary style, this soft camo cashmere is a great way to wear pink this season. Pair it up with your favourite denim for laid-back luxe with a feminine edge and fall in love with comfy glamour.
Estheme pink camo print sweater
Block Colour
Perfect for spring, this short-sleeved cashmere top is a great alternative to your usual tee – giving you a soft, subtle way to carry off block colour in muted white, grey and yellow. Style with your go-to jeans and you'll be ready for anything.
Sporty Luxe
Soft, comfy and luxurious, there's nothing like pure cashmere for relaxing. This long-sleeved illustrated top in summery lime green is a great way to do sporty luxe – in style. All you need to add is your favourite denim and you're good to go.
Estheme lime 'Please Relax' cat sweater
Make A Statement
With its striking V-neck, bold colours and stunning illustrated hearts, this gorgeous top is a great way to make a statement. Pair with distressed denim for effortless style, or dress up with skinnies and heels for an extra touch of glamour.
Estheme multi heart print sweater


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Journal Sentinel Raises Questions About Water Plant Tour
You don't usually see the word "infiltrated" in a story about water processing plants relating to anything other than leaky pipes.
Which makes it interesting that Journal Sentinel city hall reporter Larry Sandler could put it in a eyebrow-raising story about exactly what an employee working at a firm that partnered in a submission during the now-dead Milwaukee Water Works privatization study was doing during the process inside the Water Works' Linnwood Treatment Plant.
Especially when the terms of the process forbade contacts between bidders and city staff, including water works personnel.
Details, here.


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The chances of that happening are actually very low.
With the Nintendo NX, we already know that Nintendo plan on unveiling the console some time later this year- in fact, comments made by their executives seem to indicate that a full reveal is coming around Fall some time.
Fall is interesting, because it happens to coincide with Gamescom, the biggest games show in Europe- and an event that Nintendo happens to be attending, too. So putting two and two together, the question that arises naturally as a result is, could Nintendo be gearing up for a Gamescom reveal for their upcoming console?
It is tempting to think that that might happen, but there are actually a few fairly compelling reasons why that might just be wishful thinking- let's start with the fact that Gamescom is not held in Fall, but technically in the Summer, which means that it's outside of Nintendo's self prescribed window for Fall. Then, there is the fact that Nintendo are unlikely to unveil their next new console at a European show- while they have started taking the European market a bit more seriously in the last few years, the fact remains that Europe remains a bit of an afterthought for Nintendo in the larger scheme of things- this may not be something that European Nintendo fans want to hear, but it is true nonetheless.
Then there is the simple consideration, and the final nail in the coffin for this speculation, that Nintendo's booth for Gamescom is actually small- very small, in fact. It is small enough that there is no possibility for Nintendo to be debuting their shiny new system, and one that is paramount to their future in the console market, in that– if they had registered a bigger booth, there may have been some admissible possibility of their unveiling the NX at the event- but they don't, and that, perhaps more than anything else, should put all of this speculation to rest.
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Alex and I had the honor of attending a beautiful wedding this weekend and I wanted to share the fun!!! It's not often we are able to sit down as invited guests at a wedding, so Sunday night was an absolute TREAT! I met Kevin when working in Japan almost 15 years ago and to see him marry his best friend Jenn this weekend was such a pleasure. Jenn has become a wonderful friend over the years and seeing her walk down the aisle Sunday made my heart burst with love.
Jenn and Kevin were married October 1, 2017 at the beautiful McCormick Home Ranch in Camarilla, California. The couple exchanged personal (and funny) wedding vows in the stunning private garden at the Ranch. Guests watched their union under lush green trees surrounded by trickling fountains and flowers accented by strikingly huge pink rose blooms. Kevin and his men wore perfectly fitting gray tuxedos and Jenn's gals, floor-length fashionable sparkly champagne dresses with a stunningly draped open back.
After the ceremony, we were escorted to the rear of the house for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. The courtyard quickly filled with hugs, laughs, and old friends from all over the world brought together by Kevin and Jenn. An abundant cheese station, complimented by hearty passed appetizers filled our bellies, while Kona Longboard from Hawaii and Kirin Ichiban from Japan made it a true Sunday Funday!
For dinner and dancing we were escorted to the grand lawn filled with beautiful dark wood farmhouse tables. The sweetheart table set the style for the night. Beautiful mixed floral bouquets dotted the table tops lit by simple white votive candles. Rope table runners completed the long tables with the perfect amount of sophistication. The day turned to night as we enjoyed a spinach and goat cheese salad, stuffed chicken and baked salmon. A beautiful vintage donut station accented the end of dinner with a traditionally perfect white wedding cake!
We ate, drank, danced, laughed, and even cried. The Ranch was filled with hugs and high fives all night as friends and family celebrated Kevin and Jenn's marriage. The couple rounded out the evening with an incredible sparkler photo shoot with all of their guests!
I can't wait to share the link to all of their professional photos when available. For now, I apologize, you will have to simply enjoy these personal shots of the celebration! Kevin and Jenn did such an amazing job planning their wedding day! The venue staff, coordinators, caterer, and all other vendors pulled off an amazing party. I am so lucky to have attended such a beautiful and special day in their lives!
Cheers Kevin and Jenn! Sending all of our love and support as you venture through life together as one.
unblogged. Adam.


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- Costs more to park a car at some airports than a plane
- The plane parking fees can end up being half the price
- However there are other fees involved when landing a plane
SKYROCKETING parking costs at our airports mean it can now be twice as expensive to park a car than a plane.
Travellers leaving their cars at Adelaide Airport's short-term parking station have to fork out $30 for a day, but if they flew in on a private light plane it would cost them a fixed parking fee of just $15.34.
At Brisbane Airport it is even worse for drivers, with a spot in the domestic short-term car park setting them back $50 a day. Light planes at the airport are charged according to their maximum take-off weight (MTOW), starting at $33 for up to 5000kg.
As a bonus, the first two hours are also free for light planes at Adelaide and Brisbane airports – perfect for a quick visit or a lunchtime meeting.
Meanwhile, Perth Airport charges $38 for short-term car parking, slightly more than the $36.27 flat fee for a bay to house a light plane.
At Darwin Airport short term car parking fees cost $20 a day. A light plane parking fee there is calculated at just $2.85 per tonne MTOW. Using the example of a Piper PA-28 Cherokee jet with a MTOW of 975kg, this ends up costing just $2.75.
It is only when you add the other airport fees that it starts to make flying into these airports more expensive.
Brisbane Airport charges a minimum $60 landing fee plus a $1.13 security fee; Adelaide Airport has a minimum general aviation fee of $41.15 depending on the MTOW.
Darwin Airport charges a landing fee of $21.63 per tonne MTOW plus GST. Using the Cherokee jet example above means a fee of $21. Perth Airport charges $9.146 per tonne of MTOW so that equals $8.91 using the same example.
There are also fees for landing during peak periods at some airports, for example Brisbane Airport charges $150 between 7am and 10am and 4pm and 7pm.
Sydney, Melbourne and Hobart airports are the most expensive for light planes.
At Sydney Airport there is a flat fee of $110 per day for light plane parking, compared to $56 at the domestic car park. A runway charge of $4.88 per day also applies.
Car parking at Sydney's Bankstown Airport is free, while planes paying $15.12 per tonne MTOW per day.
At Melbourne Airport a plane parking charge of $40 per 15 minutes applies after the first 90 minutes, compared to the $55 a day it costs to park in the short term car park. There is also a landing fee of $250.
Travellers get 12 hours free parking for their light planes at Hobart Airport, and after that a fee of $20 for that same day applies, compared to the car park fee of $15. There is also a landing fee of a minimum $40, or $16 per tonne of MTOW.
The ACCC monitors the prices of certain services provided by Australia's major airports but this doesn't restrict them from increasing their fees.


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PointCast was launched in February of 1996 to much fanfare. The premise was simple: create a service that let people receive customized news and information pushed directly to their desktops. Sounds like a good idea. Too bad it failed and the PointCast network was shutdown in 2000.
There are lots of business reasons why PointCast might have failed. For the purposes of this post, I am interested in why PointCast, as a technology, was unsuccessful. I think the answer lies in Push versus Pull.
The primary problem with PointCast was that it was constantly pushing new information to users' machines. That information was consuming huge amounts of bandwidth (for the time) and actually resulted in PointCast being banned in many corporate environments. However, the bandwidth usage might have been accepted if PointCast created an indispensable service. The problem PointCast encountered was that people were rarely able to consume content when PointCast decided to make it available.
This highlights a simple design principle that is as true in writing code as it is in public life: when the amount of information that is available is larger than the ability to consume it, push begins to fail. This is why RSS feeds and pull based systems like Google Reader have become so popular. When I have a limited amount of time to consume content, I want to be in complete control over what I consume, when I consume it, and how much time I give to each item.
There is an analog to this situation in the work place.
One of the greatest challenges in a corporate environment is to make sure everyone has the correct information they need to make their decisions. We often create elaborate processes to make sure documentation is correct, that materials are published on our corporate Wikis, and that people are alerted when important information has changed. This is all about the "push". You think we'd have learned the lesson from PointCast by now. Teams need to put at least as much focus on Pull as they do on Push.
When was the last time your team put a focus on training people to consume documents instead of just creating them? When was the last time you heard someone admit that the information they needed was readily available but they just didn't read it? Too much focus is placed on the need to create content but not on the need to consume it.
How can you get your team working harder at the pull?


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Being situated squarely in the Bible Belt, RSC and the surrounding community is not often exposed to religious controversy. What would be considered controversial elsewhere often draws little more than a second mention in our neck of the woods.
Chick-fil-A, the fast food restaurant chain ubiquitous with cows whom have poor spelling, recently made a donation of food to the Pennsylvania Family Institute, one of the latest of several food donations to groups with anti-lesbian, gay, bisexual and transvestite (LGBT) stances and agendas. Other groups sponsored by Chick-fil-A include the Citizens for Community Values, the Family Research Council and Focus on the Family.
Pro-LGBT groups and universities have reacted negatively to this latest donation to a gay-bashing organization, with the University of Indiana – South Bend going so far as to suspend Chick-fil-A operations on their campus.
Chick-fil-A has never made any attempt to hide the part of Christian beliefs that plays in their business practice, so it should really come as no surprise that the company supports other Christian-centric groups through donations.
So, the question is, is it appropriate to punish a company financially because of their philanthropic decisions?
The University of Indiana's decision to suspend the company's operations is a bit of a black eye on Chick-fil-A's efforts to expand out of the South. With over 1,500 locations, Chick-fil-A has been spending the past decade moving the brand beyond its Deep South comfort locations.
RSC also regularly receives catering from Chick-fil-A for school events, and is usually a popular draw amongst students and faculty. Should the fact that Chick-fil-A actively supports groups built around intolerance, hatred and bigotry change the school's relationship with the company?
The college's already has a background with allowing different groups to practice what they preach on the campus. The newest club on campus, Spectrum Alliance, supports member who are, or know, people in an LGBT background, while the veteran club Baptist Collegiate Ministry brings their religion to others interested.
These two conflicting ideologies have not been questioned or turned against here at Rose.
In the end, as with any restaurant chain, the thing that matters most is what comes on that tray when someone orders food. So if supporting gay-bashers is your thing, then please, enjoy that chicken sandwich.


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D&I Summer Kickoff Juniors vball Tournament
* * * MORE INFO AT dandisummerkickoff.net * * *
Juniors Diversity and Inclusion tournament to complement PGVC's Portland Pride Grass Tournament (for adults) will be hosted at Parkrose High School, sponsored by Portland Gay Volleyball Club, and sanctioned by *CEVA. Celebrating Diversity and Inclusion with Pride!!
Open to all students attending 6th Grade and higher. Age groups/divisions offered: u14, u16, u18. Boys ranked J4 and lower are welcome to play. Roster is for up to 5 players with a maximum of 2 boys.
Fee per player is $10 and you must have a current CEVA membership. Receipt of payment will guarantee and confirm your spot in the tournament.
*CEVA/USAV membership help available through Alix Montoya in the CEVA office. email email@example.com for information on MEMBERSHIP REGISTRATION ONLY!! All other inquiries may be posted on this event page or email email@example.com
Hope to see some great teams and grow the volleyball community one athlete at a time. Please share with your contacts. Again, for detailed information and to register yourself or a team, please visit dandisummerkickoff.net
PARENTS: sign up for our adult tournament happening the same day and time. We have a "Recreational Division" available. It is a separate event with different payment tiers. Please visit facebook.com/events/2376999915854179
Hosted by Portland Gay Volleyball Club
Sat, June 15, 2019 from 08:30 am to 06:30 pm
OR 97220 Portland US


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|Daughter taxa: (blue => in age window 0-800Ma)
|Granddaughter taxa
Farinacci & Howe catalog pages: muroliths inc sedis [no catalog entry yet]Search data:
|Lith size: 0->0µm;
Geological Range:
Last occurrence (top): at top of Maastrichtian Stage (100% up, 66Ma, in Maastrichtian stage). Data source: Total of range of species in this database
First occurrence (base): at base of Albian Stage (0% up, 113Ma, in Albian stage). Data source: Total of range of species in this database
Plot of occurrence data:
muroliths inc sedis compiled by Jeremy R. Young, Paul R. Bown, Jacqueline A. Lees viewed: 14-8-2020
Short stable page link: http://mikrotax.org/Nannotax3/index.php?id=10709 Go to Archive.is to create a permanent copy of this page - citation notes


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Spoilers ahead for Deadpool 2.
The post-credits scene for Deadpool 2 is sort of the perfect encapsulation of the Deadpool franchise thus far. It takes everything serious, chucks it out the window, and proceeds to poke fun at anything and everything. And hey, if you introduce the concept of time travel into a Deadpool movie, what do you expect to happen in the Deadpool 2 after credits scene?
In the movie proper, we're told that Cable's time-travel device only allows him two trips, one to reach our present and one to return home. He decides to sacrifice his return trip home in order to save Deadpool, which in turn stops Russell from going bad and murdering Cable's family in the future. Cable decides it's better for him to stick around in our time anyway and see if he can make a better future for his family.
Cut to the post credits scene and Negasonic Teenage Warhead and Yukio have repaired the time travel device so that it gives the user infinite jumps through time. Deadpool takes it and proceeds to right past wrongs. He saves Vanessa; he goes back to X-Men Origins: Wolverine and kills Weapon XI by pumping him full of bullets; he saves Peter; and he shoots Ryan Reynolds in the head before he can agree to do the Green Lantern movie.
The Vanessa thing you kind of have to take as a joke otherwise the rest of the movie makes no sense. If Vanessa doesn't die, then Deadpool doesn't go on his journey that leads him to becoming a better person and caring for other people. Undoing Vanessa's death undoes the movie (I'm not saying fridge-ing Vanessa was a good idea, and I think it's kind of weak that the movie doesn't mock a tired trope, but nevertheless it's the inciting event), so I would expect her to remain dead.
Her death also falls in line with the other time travel events. X-Men Origins: Wolverine and Green Lantern still exist no matter how badly Deadpool/Ryan Reynolds would wish otherwise. Vanessa is still dead even though Wade Wilson would go back in time and save her if he could. Don't expect the post-credits scene to have an actual impact on the plot of X-Force and/or Deadpool 3. And as for Peter, well, I'm pretty sure audiences wouldn't mind if future films cheated a bit and brought back sugarbear.
For more on Deadpool 2, click on the links below.
- 'Deadpool 2' Writers Reveal the Too-Extreme Post-Credits Scene That Was Cut from the Movie
- Deadpool on 'Deadpool 2', Sequel Expectations and Cable's Origin
- 'Deadpool 2' Review: Everything Is a Joke Except for Deadpool's Very Serious Character Arc
- Exclusive: Ryan Reynolds Gives an 'X-Force' Update and Talks about the Film's Rating


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Forgive me and my delinquency, but I COMPLETELY forgot to post a link to an interview I did on the Hope's Bookshelf blog a few weeks ago.
Check it out right here.
(And thanks to Hope for the fun interview!)
Monday, July 14, 2008
Hope's Bookshelf
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One of the gifts I cherish the most is consciousness as it leads to awareness. On that note I choose to share a little more of myself on a deeper level. I grew up surrounded with religion and hypocrisy, getting glimpses of goodness being surrounded by good people that walked through life with the blinders on. Tunnel vision clouded by selfishness.
I asked the questions that they were afraid to answer or confront the truth of the answer. I asked why were Tarot Cards evil? Why are psychics considered evil? Why is divination the work of the devil? My youth was a gift in many ways. As I reflect on growing up in a place where religion ruled, even in the country where there is supposed to be separation of church and state. Utah is a religious state! The L.D.S Religion in fact controls all that happens within its borders and has since it was formed by the Pioneers that devotedly followed their leaders and settled down in the beauty of the land.
Being somewhat of a rebel and Pandora's Brother so to speak I had to open the box. The gifts in the box have been many and have added great depth expanding my nothingness to greater nothingness. For many my studies may seem evil yet the evils of my studies have given the gift of reality and love of all that exists.
The occult has fascinated me and I have reached the conclusion that the occult is in fact what we fear most.
|adj.1. Of, relating to, or dealing with supernatural influences, agencies, or phenomena.
2. Beyond the realm of human comprehension; inscrutable.
3. Available only to the initiate; secret: occult lore. See Synonyms at mysterious.
4. Hidden from view; concealed.
a. Medicine Detectable only by microscopic examination or chemical analysis, as a minute blood sample.
b. Not accompanied by readily detectable signs or symptoms: occult carcinoma.
Occult practices or techniques: a student of the occult.
v. (-klt) oc·cult·ed, oc·cult·ing, oc·cults
1. To conceal or cause to disappear from view.
2. Astronomy To conceal by occultation: The moon occulted Mars.
To become concealed or extinguished at regular intervals: a lighthouse beacon that occults every 45 seconds.
[Latin occultus, secret, past participle of occulere, to cover over; see kel-1 in Indo-European roots.]
oc·cultly adv.
oc·cultness n.
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.
The occult for me has been finding the hidden truth within thus allowing me to be me. I am a true unique as we all are and we hide our uniqueness with fear. Fear of what is hiding within ourselves that which we choose not to seek or acknowledge. Hidden within from our selfish views or perspectives is our inner truth.
I am grateful for the stories of others and the fear of the occult shared by my family and friends. The truth for me is that the occult is my questioning of myself to find my inner truth hidden within. If knowing my inner truth is evil then I am one evil individual. However I would ask those that would call me evil how well they know their inner self? I included the definition of occult that perhaps another perspective may lessen the fear of the occult in some aspects and reveal the true meaning for us as human beings. Are you hiding your inner truth behind the fear of the occult? Fear not your inner self and stop hiding it question and find your inner truth rather than fear what is hidden there.
I thank you for allowing me to share a thought or two and a little more of my inner truth. I recently posted a poem called "Within, and used the term "Chung Fu" it comes in the context used from the book of changes and means "Inner Truth". I hope we can as human beings reach for our inner truth and share the love that we find there. Thank you for allowing me to share and it is my hope that we all can share some love and a smile making our world a better place for all we share it with. Please share a smile share your love and help make our world a better place for all we share it with. Be the change positive know yourself and share your love.


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Today's selection of articles from Kotaku's reader-run community: Elihu's Four in February 2018: Just Bros Being Bros • Looking At The Halo Movies • Late TAY Retro: Venture [TV Commercial] • Koda's Winter 2018 Anime Progress Report
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