Froth on the Daydream

2007-05-10T21:21:00.000+03:00

www.thefroth.com

I've moved! Come see me.
xx
Chloe

Moving soon

2007-05-10T01:11:00.000+03:00

My new house

This is one of my last posts here on Blogger. I have been working hard on this place , decorating it and importing posts from Blogger. Not easy. But I managed to import all of your comments, which is the most important thing to me. Because everything else, I can do by myself. But comments, well, it would be pathetic to write my own comments.
It's not a big change. Everything is going to be as before, we'll just have a bigger place to ourselves. Think of it like moving to a bigger apartment, not moving to a different city.
I have moved all of you with me there in the Blogroll. If I have left someone out, please let me know. I did it all manually, so I might have skipped someone by mistake. Also, could you please change my url in your blogrolls too? No? Grrrr.
I'll let you know when everything is ready. Right now, if you dig deep into the archives you will see all my photos jumping around. Such is the cooperation between Wordpress and Blogger.

Infinitely interesting Podcast of the day: "Oxford Biographies: Charles Isham, inventor of the garden gnome"*

*I have at last found a cure for insomnia.

Off to the goats

2007-04-28T02:30:00.000+03:00

It is so late and I am practically dead but I needed to tell you a list of things. Actually, it is a list I made in the taxi on my way home from the playmobil fun park where I went with my godson and my son.
Here is:
1. I am going to that mountain village again for a few days. I will be back on Tuesday or Wednesday. I am going to celebrate the first day of May among the flowers. I hope I am not allergic to fresh air.
2. Remember the e-commerce site you all encouraged me about? It is online now. Although it is not totally ready yet, and even without our full range of products it is there and if there are things you notice and want to tell me to correct or add, or maybe you think I should just delete and start over, please let me know. Oh here it is.
3. I have my own domain now. I decided to do it the day before yesterday. I must be crazy because with all the work I have to do for the e-commerce site, I will never be able to transfer all my posts from Blogger to the new place. Still, one day that is going to be my new home. Once I have decorated it of course. Because it is pretty uninhabitable right now.
Erm, that's all. The other items on my list had mostly to do with the inevitability of mascara and moist tissues to clean my sunglasses with.
Bye bye, hugs, must go, the village goats beckon.

My Most Hated Phrases

2007-04-24T16:15:00.000+03:00

If I hear/read one of those again, I will stop talking and start barking.

-It’s all good

-When. this. is. done. for. emphasis.

-No brainer.

-How cool is that?

-And I’m like, yeah, right.

-I have issues.

-"Don’t go there" meaning "don't think like that".

-White/Lime Green/……is the new black.

-Think outside the box.

-Life coach

-Hit the gym

-My bad

-"So" at the end of the sentence when you can’t finish it.

-Life changing experience

-icon, iconic

-“To be honest”, when there is no revelation at all.

-Soul mate

-Real good or real bad

-“embrace diversity” (the actual words, not the meaning)

-Role Model

-“My thoughts and prayers are with you” especially when used by politicians on TV

-Put your hands together

-Keeping it real

-You can say that again

-Brangelina, Bennifer, Tomkat etc

-Quality time

-Comfort zone

-“and she goes…” meaning “and she said…”

What are yours? Awesome? Obviously? Clearly? At the end of the day?

More photos until you get sick of them

2007-04-19T12:21:00.000+03:00

Roosevelt, my son and Churchill sitting side by side on a bench in Bond Street, in Hampstead.

Science Museum

The slides in Tate Modern

This is from the Tower of London where my son went with M.

You are welcome to write the captions. Best captions win a postcard and a cd. Oh, and an origami flower from my new printer. I am so generous.

Supermarket drama

2007-04-17T14:12:00.000+03:00

She was lurking behind the shampoo aisle

Yesterday, in the supermarket, while daydreaming in front of the pantiliners shelf, a crazy looking, blonde woman around 50, approached me. They always do. “Do you know where they keep the incontinence pads?” she asked.

I showed her. They were hidden away along with the baby toiletries, for some reason. The crazy looking blonde thanked me a million times and hastened to add that she needed them for her mother, not for her.

Another woman, let’s call her auburn lady, not much older than the blonde one, was shopping nearby. As soon as the blonde lady noticed the auburn lady, she grabbed an incontinence pads pack and waving it from the other end of the shampoo section, started shouting at the top of her voice: “Hey lady, you should know. Is this the right one to buy? You are using these, right?”

Whereupon the auburn lady pursed her lips and proceeded to the check out.

Easter in London

2007-04-16T14:17:00.000+03:00

The most beautiful duck in the world

High and mighty in Richmond Park

Hampstead Heath on Easter Sunday

The view from Richmond Hill

I have many many photos to show you. I thought I'd start with these: flowers, trees and pretty things. To celebrate spring that this year won't pass us by.

Never beaten

2007-04-15T12:31:00.000+03:00

I thought I’d tell you an incoherent story. Back in November things started going seriously wrong for me. It was a combination of difficult situations topped with my sense of not belonging here. I cannot tell you how many times I thought I had lost it completely.

I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to eat. Or, I only wanted to sleep. I only wanted to eat.

I wanted to be alone. When I was alone, I was angry for feeling so lonely. When I was with people I had nothing to say to them. Every day was a mountain of chores and the despair was increasing. And gradually, I stopped writing here, which has always been an immense pleasure to me.
I think I also became unreasonable. Increasing helplessness makes you unreasonable.

When you feel desperate and helpless other people notice. And you see the reflection of your despair in their eyes. So you don’t want to meet them anymore.

Someone said I was depressed. I thought, I am not just depressed; I am absolutely submerged in this unhappiness. So, no, I was not depressed.

A day came when I seriously doubted my ability to live. Sometimes, in the night, everything seems easy. It’s easy to just stop, or so it seems. In the morning, there was always a new flicker of hope, but the nights were becoming more and more difficult.

I talked to my sister, I talked to M, I talked to Blondie. I told some of it to some of you. But for a while, nothing happened. Then, things started to change a bit, after my birthday in March (which I didn’t celebrate). And then I went to those trips. The first one was good, the second was better. Considering, of course.

When I was in Britain, I had lots of time for myself. I thought I had to create a new basis for my life. One that would include other people of course, but that wouldn’t depend on them being here, all the time, forever and ever.

I don’t know how many miles I walked, just thinking. It made me feel so powerful and in control. I know I don’t want to be here in Athens. There is no inspiration and even M who loves it here remarked one day as we were lying in the park in Richmond, that I looked like an animal in its habitat.

Also, I want to have more friends. I want to go out with friends and do things. And I don’t just want best friends. I have best friends. I want good people around me. At the same time I want to be more independent and push myself more.

Does it make any sense to you?

So that’s it. I wanted you to know why I made myself scarce. And to say thanks again, because you stayed right here during all the craziness.

Blackcrag has given me some homework, things he wants me to write. I have a week packed with posts to meet my deadline. Blackcrag is so strict.

Flight BA0631

2007-03-30T00:10:00.000+03:00

Greek Kitsch

It is getting boring, I mean, me, checking in to say "I am leaving tomorrow". It is true, I am leaving tomorrow, and I haven't updated you on all the times I went away this month. But I am going to have a laptop in London and I will try to update from there. And post fresh photos.
I've been very busy with the e-commerce business for which many of you were an inspiration. If it goes well, I promise you, free pasta forever.
My heart grows bigger and I feel love for the world again. I decided, my problem is me, so I am going to try and solve me. But other than that, things are fine.
I really want to start posting every day again. If I remember correctly it made me feel sane.
Off to London now. This time I am going with Blondie, M and my son.
Expect postcards. Don't forget me.
x

Life is crazy but the food is good

2007-03-16T20:09:00.000+02:00

I made some strawberry panacotta

And a spring onion pie

And this impromptu strawberry-Kellogs Special K-yogurt dessert

I am trying to find my way back into this thing I used to enjoy so much: blogging. Some food porn never hurt anyone, did it? See you soon, hopefully with words. Eric, thanks, you are such a bright light. Thank you all in fact, those of you who leave sweet messages here and in my inbox. Those of you who sent gifts to cheer me up, like Cathy and Connie and Scholiast. Those of you who sent cards, like Stephanie. Madelyn, Devil Mood, Gina, thank you for the beautiful letters and notes.
It sounds like I am getting an award for something, doesn't it? Hehe.

Fix me

2007-03-08T01:04:00.000+02:00

Got to be more like trees

I was not intentionally gone. I was here looking at the screen every day for the past 10 days.
I was searching for my thoughts and my words. I thought I had lost them all. A crystalline sadness had enclosed them, like those iced fruit we have for Christmas decorations.
I became awful, awful to be around. Nobody else’s fault but mine. An unexpected critical error in my system that affects stability, an inherent vulnerability.
I became physically sick, out of spite. I suffered from stomach cramps; I broke out in spots, had headaches that lasted for 24 hours and slept all day. And that was the easy part. I despise me for this.
I have to fix it. I mean me. Look at how many "I"s I typed. That must be the problem.

Song of the era: "Majesty" by Madrugada

P.S Those of you who sent invitations to your blogs, please send them again. Blogger tells me I am not who I say I am and Blogger might be right, but I want those invitations dammit!

P.S Spring is good, everything is green and all that. And no spots anymore.

I am leaving tomorrow

2007-02-16T23:36:00.000+02:00

My sister advised me to stop worrying about M's fear of flying and get a sleeping pill myself, to avoid his panic stricken face. I have to tell you, I seriously doubt he is going to go through with the flight. I think he is going to start running once we approach check-in.
So, with my bag full of Bach flower remedies, anti-anxiety pills and sedatives for M, I bid you all adieu. I will be back next Friday with more London photos and hopefully less pills.

P.S I am going to miss you. It is so tranquil here online, with no voices at all.

From Russia with love

2007-02-15T13:04:00.000+02:00

A bloody mary to salute Svetlana

I got this email from my new best friend. I don’t know her yet, but we’ll be like Paris Hilton and Britney Spears, THAT close.

“Lets start new relations!
I am svetlana. I am from Saint-Petersburg, Russia. I am young cheerful
creative lady who wants to make happy not only myself but all people
who are around me - my friends and my family. Will you join my circle?
I will be waiting for you reply to: svetlana@bestladies4u.com”

And do you see her domain name? “Best ladies for you”. For me!
Are you green with envy? She wants to make me happy she says, and she is creative. Which means, she will eventually find a way. If you are reading this Svetlana, warm lady in the chilly Russian vastness, Spasibo.

Love sucks

2007-02-14T21:59:00.000+02:00

No, wait. It actually stinks. Well, not love. Valentine's day, that's what I mean. I am so happy the day is over. I had forgotten until my son came back from school and announced: "Hey, it's Valentine's day. What are we going to do? Can I buy a new toy?"
And then when we went to the supermarket and M wanted to buy some unhealthy crisps, I mockingly yelled "VALENTINE!" and he blushed and left the bag where it was. So that was Valentine's day 2007.
But I don't want the day to go unsung. The following Eels lyrics are my tribute to this celebration of luv:

Life goes on
Nothing is new
Judge made it clear
I can't be near you

Eels "Restraining Order Blues"

My weekend: disgusting, I know

2007-02-13T15:00:00.000+02:00

Someone bit off her chocolate hands

Do not smile. I am going to eat you up.

I went to this food show on Sunday with my sister. You could actually try all these things. You could ask for a tartlet and they'd give it to you for free. Afterwards, they'd ask if you have a bakery or pastry shop, and you'd lie and say you work for a chef, so they'd give you some more.
Replace "you" with "I".

Dear Agony Aunt

2007-02-08T11:33:00.000+02:00

Why don't you try the soothing powers of the Pride and Prejudice DVD?

M, the father of my child, is afraid of flying even more than he is of actually dying while flying on a plane.
I have presented him with statistics that prove that flying is safe and if it wasn’t for 9/11 I am sure he would have been able to join the pilot in the cockpit for a few minutes, just to check that everything is running smoothly.
We are about to fly to London next week and I can tell he is getting very very nervous. So it doesn’t really help that these last couple of weeks the news has been filled with airplanes having problems landing due to bad weather conditions. Last week a big drama was made out of a greek plane and some ice (nothing horrible happened; it was just a slow news day). Today many British airports closed down and flights were cancelled due to the heavy snow.
The first time we went out and he never got around to watching TV that evening. Today I had to pretend I was terminally bored by the news and wanted the television turned off immediately, like a crazy woman. I simply cannot do this many more times. Eventually he is going to want to watch the news. He is one of those people who believe that the world depends on them watching the news. Otherwise, what’s the point of things happening eh?
Do I act crazy and throw the remote out of the window? Do I pretend to be a sensitive flower and start crying after the war in Iraq update? (weather news are usually sixth or seventh in line unless it’s about greek weather). Do I pretend to want to watch endless DVDs? Do I bribe my son to throw tantrums and ask for his playstation all the time? It’s only for one more week; there must be something I can do. Any suggestions?

Sensitive flower

I don’t hear voices yet

2007-02-05T09:28:00.000+02:00

This Monday morning, I woke my son up, gave him his breakfast, helped him dress and prepared his snacks for school. Then we went downstairs to wait for the school bus. A feeling of impending doom I had been trying to suppress overwhelmed me so five minutes before the bus arrived I told him to go upstairs and take his shoes off. Then I told the driver he was sick and could he bring the homework after school (they do this for everyone).

Am I nuts? Probably. I kept my son home because I had a bad dream and a bad premonition. On top of that, two of his photos had fallen off the shelf yesterday evening. I mean, who could argue with THAT?

Now he is cheerfully playing with his ships in his room and thinking of me both as his Monday saviour and his crazy gaoler.

The coy doctor

2007-02-03T17:50:00.000+02:00

Could you play "you can leave your hat on" please?

Last week I went to the doctor to have a second electromyogram. Somehow, the first doctor whom I had found on the internet didn’t look that credible to me. He had made a comment about husbands giving him more money to electrocute their wives. I laughed. A visit to the neurologist should be a somber affair.

By the way do you know these fake sweaters plus shirts some shops sell and lazy people like me buy? The ones where the parts of the shirt that show under the sweater are added on: cuffs and collar. I was wearing one of those.

I am mentioning this because when the good doctor asked me to take off my sweater so he could insert the electrodes into my hand, he didn’t expect to see me, well, in my bra. Brassiere. Upper body undergarment. Whatever.

“I thought you were wearing a shirt underneath!” he said averting his eyes. “No, I just have the collar on” I apologized, red as a beet. He gave me a puzzled look, maybe thinking that I actually cut off all my shirts’ cuffs and collars. You know, to save time.

He also told me to rest my hand.
I am obviously giving it a rest since I don’t need to iron whole shirts anymore, aren’t I?

He then asked me not to clean the windows anymore (he spoiled all the fun didn’t he?). Apparently the circular motion hurts the particular nerve. I assured the doctor that I almost never clean the windows (Stephanie can attest to that) and he needn’t worry about that either. So I put on my grey sweater, my cuffs and collar and off I went.
By the way, you could do it with shoes and socks you know. Why wear the whole sock?

Migration

2007-01-30T14:28:00.000+02:00

The menu is giving me a headache

For the next couple of days (only a couple, don't go away for months) I will be migrating to the New Blogger, because it finally heard my prayers. However, as in all intimate relationships, I like to have my options open, so I am checking Wordpress, Movable Type and even Drupal and Joomla. But whatever I do, I am going to let you know and everything is going to be as before and even better (there was room for improvement to start with).
This is always going to be Froth and I'll always be chloe.

If I could take sleep in a pill

2007-01-25T22:39:00.000+02:00

Spell SLEEP please

I don’t know any other person apart from newborn babies and jetlagged people who have so outrageous sleeping patterns (they are so chaotic they are not even patterns; there must be some method in their madness but I cannot fathom it).

It sounds ironic, but should I try hypnosis? Or something stronger? Like magic?

Tomorrow there are more tests for my hand as well as a check-up to establish that the damage is purely mechanical, not pathological. And then a business meeting. Thank God, I do business with my friend.

I think what I need is an enduring lullaby.

Song of the day: To Sheila – Smashing Pumpkins

A day in the life

2007-01-24T16:35:00.000+02:00

10 things I do well

2007-01-23T13:23:00.000+02:00

I cook well.
I write well (don't judge by this blog, it's not in my mother tongue, that's my excuse at least).
I am good at enertaining people at home (the hostess part, not the party clown part).
I am good at collages, painting and crafts.
I often take nice photos and I am good at photoshop (there is room for improvement).
I am good at staying awake for as long as you need me to.
I am good at noticing the beauty in things and ignoring the ugly bits.
I give good advice (I don't follow advice though, this is one of the things I do not do well).
I am good at decorating, cleaning and organizing the home.
I am good at living well both with no money and with lots of money.

Stolen from Devil Mood who also does at least 10 things well.

When the stork met the birds and bees

2007-01-22T08:58:00.000+02:00

The dreaded day I had to let my son know about the birds and bees came. I know he knows a few things, and he certainly knows the scientific part: the sperm fertilizes the egg. But how does the sperm reach the egg? That, he didn’t know –as far as I was concerned. So I got him this book and started reading a couple of pages every night, taking turns with his father.

Luckily for me, all the graphic details were on his dad’s turn. I could hear M trying to sound cool and composed as he told our son how he came about. But the little one didn’t bat an eyelid. The great mystery of life, the wonder of creation and so on so forth, didn’t impress him, not a bit. Vagina is not funny yet, not as much as poo and not even close to the hilarity of burping. When he was left alone, he asked again for the book and proceeded to read alone from another page, the one that explained how twins, triplets and quadruplets happen.

Our next milestone happens in a few pages when I have to read that some bad people might try to touch him inappropriately and he should refuse and let me know. I do not want to frighten him or make him suspicious of every person he meets, but I don’t want him to be ignorant of the danger either. Have you addressed this issue with your kids? And if you don’t have kids how would you go about it? Is there a subtle way to let him know there are perverts who sometimes work in schools, summer camps and playgrounds? And after I let him know, do you think he might need a stiff drink?

STOP THE PRESSES

I need to say Happy Birthday to my friend Joe and Happy Nameday to my friend Tasos! Two of the best men I've ever met (I've met lots).

Thoughts I had today

2007-01-17T00:27:00.000+02:00

If I kiss you will you wake up at last? Like Sleeping Beauty did.

Lemon cheesecake, last piece, last bite.

Stupid iPod, stupid iTunes, stupid Apple (won’t let me listen to audiobooks Joanna gave me because I haven’t bought them!)

Will my mum live for another 15 years? Please God, let her live at least 15 years more.

M has been building his family tree. So he found this: Near his grandfather’s village, there was a little town called “Black Hell”. As in “where do you come from?” “Black Hell”.

I am going to see you all at your place in a few hours. I am back, I hope you are still here.

love is a place

& through this place of

love move

(with brightness of peace)

all places

yes is a world

& in this world of

yes live

(skilfully curled)

all worlds

ee cummings

Perfect day (you made me forget myself)

2007-01-15T23:52:00.000+02:00

We went to the entertainment park. The colours were fantastic!

Inside the pirate ship everything is blue

Swan Lake

"Helo mama" said this nice looking gentleman as I took his picture

He is not hanging from anywhere. Instead, air pumped from a big balloon underneath him, keeps him flying!

There was also real snow (real but man-made) despite the 16 Celsius degrees

Demure

The one where Jarvis Cocker is reading a story to me

2007-01-12T15:12:00.000+02:00

I have been listening to Jarvis Cocker’s podcasts (If you have itunes, search for Jarvcasts) in which he reads folk tales and stories like “The Laughing Man” by JD Salinger. I am not sure Jarvis Cocker is as hugely famous in Canada and the US as he is in Europe where he is a hero. At least he is a personal hero of mine, not just because of his music (with Pulp and solo) but also because of his beliefs and attitude. And his sense of style.

So I have been lulling myself to sleep with his stories and it is no wonder I saw him in my dream last night. He was in a hotel room with his wife and son and somehow I was there too, amazed to meet him and asked him for his photo “for my blog”. He agreed and offered to read a story to me. We sat together and he started reading “The Laughing Man”. Many hours passed (in my dream) and he was still reading and reading and reading to me. Night came and everybody went to bed. He turned on a little light and he kept reading. When I asked him a question he just looked at me but kept on reading without stopping not even to drink some water. Morning came and Jarvis was still reading without any signs of fatigue. He was holding my hand (I can dream can’t I?) and reading the story. When the story was over, he closed the book, thanked me for listening and left.
He was like a modern Hans Christian Andersen.

Today I am going to the neurologist for my hand. I’ve been in pain for a couple of days and the numbness won’t go away. I am going to have this electromyogram where electricity is pumped into the muscle tissue. Needless to say, I am in it for the free perm.

Why oh why did I not wash my hair?

2007-01-05T22:21:00.000+02:00

Regrets for 2006

Going to work meetings at night for a job that never materialized.
Not washing my hair when I went to dinner with Steph and Okkervil River.
Not going to see Morrissey perform in Athens.

New year’s resolution

Minimize harmful chemicals in my life, like strong detergents and poisonous people. A little dirt is preferable.

A disturbing truth

I was ashamed to admit to myself that when young mums shove their little noisy, full of slobber, kids to my face to coo and admire them, I just can’t muster up will power enough to smile. So I just stare like a moron.
But I am a mum too. Only mums can be that cruel.

To live

2007-01-02T16:46:00.000+02:00

It’s the most wonderful day. Nothing extraordinary happened, but it just is (or am I on one of my highs? Hope not). It’s wonderful to live. I wanted to let you know.

"It is
Wonderful to live. My sword rusts
In the pleasant rain. "

Kenneth Patchen from "Gautama in the Deer Park of Benares"

Happy New Year! Gift lists work!

2007-01-01T21:50:00.000+02:00

Good M gave me an iPod nano and my sister gave one to Joe too. So here we are looking blissful.
(Joe was obviously happier than I was).

Blondie gave me this fantastic black wallet with white butterflies. I have to make some money for it now.

And my sister gave me this pasta machine. See? Lists work.

Random festive photos from Athens

Have a happy new year. I've never felt as hopeful for a new year as I do for 2007. I think it is going to be an exciting, adventurous year full of nice surprises. I think we are going to be happy. And I hope to meet more of you. Happy new year to you and you and you and you.

Ode to nature

2006-12-30T13:11:00.000+02:00

Nature, it’s over between us
Because:
a. You are extreme, you were made that way. Too cold, too hot, too wild, too many bugs, rude mice, pronged twigs, thorns, spiky bushes, an assortment of stones, mud, animal poo.
b. You are like a pill some people have to take every morning. It’s not your fault, it’s theirs, I admit that. But they make you look bad, nature. People who HAVE to be out at a certain time, every day and take certain steps and see certain things, because it is GOOD for them, no I can’t stand that.
c. Manmade things appeal to me most. They say you were made by someone cleverer, so it’ no wonder you are so beautiful. But we people are so little and limited and the fact that we were able to make bridges that look like they are hanging from the sky, amazes me more.
d. Okay, because I am lazy. I like what you have to give me (food, I like food) and I respect you and promise to always protect you from harm. I recycle plastic bottles, paper and cans and I sometimes make my own detergents out of vinegar and soap. But being lazy means I don’t like climbing your mountains and walking where there is no clear path and meeting your creepy crawlies, who totally belong with you (not with me though).
e. You are analog. I would love you more if your trees had USB ports.

It's cold out there!

2006-12-28T16:11:00.000+02:00

Snow!

herbal teas

Ye olde shoppe

My son and his friend singing Christmas Carols and getting paid accordingly (not a lot of money, that is)

It's been a lovely, cold -by Greek standards- Christmas. There were not many shopping opportunities in the village, apart from apples and herbal teas, so it was a restful Christmas too.
Tomorrow there will be the usual grumpy post about nature and how I don't really like it. Except in photos, where nature looks splendid, especially with filters on. But today, you don't know this yet, so come and say "welcome back".
It's good to be back. Warm too.
Did Santa bring you what you had asked for?

Have yourselves a merry little Christmas

2006-12-22T08:56:00.000+02:00

Bah, humbug! I didn't have internet access all day yesterday. This is a quick note to let you know I am going away to a mountain village for the holidays. I will be back on the 27th of December and I will be thinking of you up there among the goats and the wild boars. It will be like the first Noel, except there were no boars in the stable.
I wanted to post different e-cards to each one of you but as I am leaving in less than an hour, it is impossible. But hey, Christmas is about sharing, so, erm, you'll share a group card.
Merry Christmas to all of you, and to those who don't celebrate Christmas, Merry Everything.
I am going to miss you.

Christmas Greetings

2006-12-20T09:58:00.000+02:00

The only instance you can see me wearing fur

You know you are granted one wish on Christmas night and that it always comes true, don't you? What is your wish?
I wish Santa gives back Chloe's Internet access. Merry Christmas from Chloe (and me)! Chlorina
-Blondie, your wish came true this morning! (Chloe)

The Christmas Notebook

2006-12-14T12:09:00.000+02:00

I have a Christmas notebook. I am a pathetic Christmas-crazy list-maker, and it all goes in my notebook. I’ve had it for 8 years, and there are still some blank pages because I only use it during the holidays. I unearthed it this morning and was happy-sad to find that some people have been crossed off my gifts and cards list. At least 4.
Also I was touched by the simplicity of past Christmas dinners. I know, because I read the shopping lists of eight years back. Blue cheese soufflé with potatoes? Broccoli salad with asparagus? Come on! It spells N-O-V-I-C-E.
I must be on my way to Scroogedom because I was equally amazed at the sums of money I was willing to spend on some people’s presents (Yves Saint Laurent body lotion AND a book for a friend who always gave me CDs).
I was also ashamed to see the lists of clothes, accessories and cosmetics I had made in order to travel. We were about to go to a village up on a mountain with a couple of friends. It turned out that their house was the only inhabited one and we had to drive for 15 minutes to buy bread. It was so isolated that when one morning I opened the door and saw a stray cat begging for food, I jumped for joy. The mere presence of another being made me happy. So, in retrospect, it was really funny that the following products were included in my list:
Mascara
Compact powder
Eye liner

But my Christmas notebook is not full of Christmas cheer only. I found a letter I had written to the person who had stolen my purse one Christmas eve, while I was shopping. Okay I was younger, but to wish his death? Granted, I didn’t have money not even to make a phone call that day, because of that awful person, but today, I wouldn’t write “I wish you are going to die on Christmas day”. We all know that people who die on Christmas day go straight to Heaven, and I wouldn’t want that for him.

On the last page, there is a “don’t forget note” I had left to M, one busy day I was probably out shopping:

-Make the beds
-Load the washing machine (DARK COLOURS ONLY)
-Buy champagne

It really puts you in the mood for champagne, doesn’t it?

Things I've done these last few days

2006-12-13T00:04:00.000+02:00

Decorated the fireplace

Had numerous coffees inside and outside

went to this friend's exhibition

saw this phone and loved it (actually that was a couple of weeks ago)

fell in love with a nutcracker, haven't we all?

went to this place for drinks

and kept looking at this beautiful mural while I was having mojitos

was captivated by this -okay, not so minimalist- chandelier

saw this spooky thing on a wall

You know, I've contemplated ending this blog. Then I thought "are you crazy?" and changed my mind. I might come and go but I will never leave.

I knew I'd be the moon

2006-12-08T19:05:00.000+02:00

Why am I the moon? In the question about my favourite celestial body I chose "Sun". All the points about sleep problems and intuition are true. This fact is a bit scary right now. Anyway, it's been a long time since I've done one of these memes, and it's thanks to Kimananda's blog. Is anybody the Sun? Because I gravitate to you.

You are The Moon

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

In the taxi

2006-12-07T20:52:00.000+02:00

In the taxi with the racist taxi driver who keeps swearing at immigrants I never expected to experience this moment of peace, while listening to Fade Into you.
Somehow it is surreal that I am sharing this song with that awful man who obviously doesn’t notice it and just tolerates it. Still, I am grateful for that moment of clarity after a hard day full of chores and a hard night full of thoughts and weird dreams.
My Christmas list didn’t include my most precious gift of all, the sense of belonging somewhere. I want to wake up one day and not to be a stranger. To walk on the street and feel one with what I see around me. I want to be consumed by this earth I walk on; I don’t want to slip away.
Is love ever enough? Is a little less love and a little more understanding a better trade-off?
I am happy in myself and I want to share this feeling but it is expressed in a language I don’t speak and one which I’ve never heard being spoken. It is not a dead language, it is an unborn one.

What I want for Christmas

2006-12-06T11:08:00.000+02:00

The tree is ready. My friends did a great job I think. I haven’t changed a thing, contrary to what M says. I decided against being Martha Stewart this year.

My son can't stand still, obviously

What I want for Christmas

Material Things
Pair of flat boots
Silly things from IKEA and this IKEA desk
New warm coat
My own mp3 player (I use M’s and hate it, it’s only 1G)

Pasta machine (still!)
More cookbooks
The Goddess Guide (funny book)
Tartan bag, tartan purse, tartan scarf
The whole Toni and Guy range of hair products (great!)
Moleskins as always (got them)
Photo smart printer
New (bigger) sunglasses
New sewing machine
This USB turntable, to change vinyl collection to MP3s (for a mere 177 Euros)
Wallet (got it)
Pyjamas
Doll’s house

Non-material things
Peace of mind
Sleep
Fun

What would you like for Christmas? I tag you all.

Introducing new ornaments

2006-11-30T12:44:00.000+02:00

I made this Christmas couscous for the magazine, so it doesn't count, as it was made in early November, but it's Christmassy and everything. The presents in the background are actually empty jewellery boxes. Erm, I spoiled it for you, didn't I.

Christmas for me starts tomorrow. We are setting up the tree and I have invited some friends to help us, because this year we have a bigger tree, and as always there is my son’s tree too, which is a big enough tree in its own right.
I had decided not to buy many new ornaments this year, because I got the new tree exactly for that reason: The old one wasn’t big enough for all the ornaments and baubles. In fact it looked like an old lady with lots of make up on.
So it’s good that I was given some nice new ornaments, two in the mail and one that was brought to me by Stephanie. Drum roll please, to introduce you:

Frog Angel (Stephanie)

Dancing Star (Devil Mood)

Hello Christmas Kitty (Connie)

I am going to cook something Christmassy too, and I hope people are going to bring some port wine, just like last year. Won’t you people? Photos of the biggest tree on my street, tomorrow night. Don’t forget the port.

You lived inside my world so softly

2006-11-29T21:01:00.000+02:00

I have received some very sweet emails lately and some e-cards too. I need to tell you this: You are wonderful. You have been there for me on so many occasions, you are happy when I am happy and you lift me up when I am sad. This is something only my very close friends do and I think they are glad to be sharing the burden. Let me be melodramatic just this once and tomorrow I’ll go on with Christmassy things and more silliness:

There were days I kept going only because I needed to report back.
Other times, I found humour in things that would otherwise drive me crazy, just because I wrote about them here.
You provided solutions, ideas, you are an endless pool of inspiration, my think tank.
You sent me songs, you taught me things, you directed me to music, books, films I liked.
I found I wasn’t a bad writer nor was I an awful (amateur) photographer through you. I had no idea, I used to think I was worthless at such matters.
I explored my talents as a result to this faith I’ve found in you. Whatever other people tell you, if you ever doubt your worth, just know you’ve made a big difference in my life.

Song of the day: You are my sister – Antony and the Johnsons feat. Boy George
See it and listen to it here

List of things that keep me sane

2006-11-28T09:10:00.000+02:00

-Coffee in the morning. Actually, the thought of coffee in the morning makes me happy the night before.
-My son. Kids have needs and these needs are always a priority. You cannot break down when you have to cook for your kid and help him with his homework.
-Cleaning the house. Order, my order, the order I instill on things, is an empowering feeling. Also, throwing things away. It gives a sense of control.
-My friends: Blondie, Joe, my sister, Anna, you, your emails, gifts (Connie! and Devil Mood! a few weeks back, Scholiast too ) and messages.
-Planning for the near future. At this point, planning for Christmas.
-Technology. There is logic behind its magic and that makes me happy. Every useful gadget that enters the house and makes my life easier keeps me sane too.
-M sometimes drives me crazy but can also keep me sane. Especially when he does not pay attention to the craziness.
-My mum. She calls and I have to act normal. And she calls often, so I have to be normal often.
-Old jazz music. It is so comforting.
-Meeting deadlines. Somebody give me more deadlines please.

Thanks

2006-11-26T15:14:00.000+02:00

It felt as if an evil god was whispering in my ear "In all the forests, the lakes, mountains, cities, there is not a single soul." It was a sense of utter loneliness, a poisonous feeling I haven't had in years.
It was triggered by an argument, a silly one, or a series of silly arguments, but in my head, that evil deity was saying "You are all alone and the words that come out of your mouth will echo in the void, forever and ever and ever." You sink in that hole where it is warm and dark and you know that if you stay there one more day, you'll never get out the same person. So you have to scream. Somehow, screaming makes other people visible again. Other people really do exist. Not literally, I didn't really scream. I made a huge fuss, that's what I mean.
I know many of you have just celebrated Thanksgiving. If I wanted to give thanks, I'd say, thanks for making yourselves seen.

I want Christmas to start now

2006-11-24T08:17:00.000+02:00

On the road to somewhere

2006-11-23T08:17:00.000+02:00

Rocket Fish

2006-11-22T08:40:00.000+02:00

Here's the rocket-fish. Going down but smiling.

Good night now

2006-11-21T10:07:00.000+02:00

I am so sorry friends. I have been spiraling down to a dark place these last 8-9 days.
I have been very sad, I have been trying hard to function but I can’t. I need to sleep in peace for one night and I need to get back in control.
But right now, I feel desperation.
So I will be only posting pictures until I am better. So that you know I am okay and so that I can have some kind of communication with you.

Pet hates: Update

2006-11-18T18:48:00.000+02:00

People who sneeze when they cook.
People who like having sex with the music on.

Vote for a logo

2006-11-16T12:40:00.000+02:00

Logo A

Logo B Logo C

Erikku is responsible for our comany's name and we are grateful to him forever and ever. Could you please help with the logo? I know they look similar but if you knew the hours we have spent discussing the subtle differences, you'd take mercy on me and vote A, B, or C. Please do not quote the name in this blog. It is going to appear in Google and we don't want that just yet. These are samples, not the actual design which is more elegant, but that's the main idea.
We want the logo to signify we are an organic products company and that these products are Mediterranean too.
Go panel, go.

Not my home

2006-11-14T19:55:00.000+02:00

There are so many things I want to change but I don’t know where to start. This is not where I belong, it’s not my habitat, it’s not where I feel at ease and proud of who I am. Mostly, I feel like a big round zero. I am not modest, I know what I am worth. But this is the general atmosphere. This is not my country, this is not my home.

Mission accomplished

2006-11-13T09:05:00.000+02:00

It seems we have found a warehouse-office-workshop in London. In four days too. It’s in Putney, in case you are ever in the area.
The best things about this trip, apart from making good progress with the business, have been:
-The breakfast place in Richmond where we eat scrambled eggs and grilled mushrooms.
-The autumn leaves.
-The pub and the way people make you feel so welcome there. We went on our last night, as we had been exhausted all the previous evenings. It’s opposite my friend’s house so we just had to cross the road.
-The 2 minutes of silence, on 12 November, Remembrance Sunday, which happened while I was in the airport, waiting to have my hand luggage x-rayed and my boots and coat taken off. Suddenly all the thousands of people in the airport, from all over the world, stopped talking and moving, as if we were under a spell. The airport went quiet. It was an amazing moment.
-The film Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. So shockingly hilarious, I thought I’d die laughing.
-Going to BBC’s Good Food Show and seeing all the kiosks with delicious food. Eating some (food, not kiosks) too. We hope to take part next year.
-Buying tons of food magazines and newspapers.
-Being with my friend Anna, during all this and laughing at ourselves. As Borat says, Happy Times.

Hello, goodbye

2006-11-06T15:36:00.000+02:00

My friend, Stephanie

I've just returned from the airport where I saw Stephanie off. We had an amazing time together and she is just as sweet as I expected her to be. Everybody loves her here. I miss you Steph!
My only consolation is that tomorrow I am going to London -should I say “on business”, or is it too snotty? We need to find a warehouse or a small office.

I know it feels like I have abandoned everyone but I have not. If anything, Stephanie’s visit has proved to me that the language barrier and the distance barrier aren’t barriers enough.
I will be back on Sunday evening and from then on I will be posting everyday forever and ever and ever. Amen.

Dinner with Okkervil River and Stephanie

2006-11-03T11:36:00.000+02:00

From left to right: Patrick, Michael, Scott, Will

Will

Michael, Scott

Patrick and tsipouro

Will, Chloe

Stephanie

We had dinner with one of our favourite groups, Okkervil River. They were in Athens for a show that didn't happen, but at least we met and had a great time.

Sightseeing

2006-11-02T10:44:00.000+02:00

Stephanie arrived yesterday. We are sightseeing! More photos once we have scrubbed up.

How to live my wild, rock n’roll life

2006-10-31T00:13:00.000+02:00

In the same day you must:
Make orange marmalade.
Have the cistern/flusher, whatever, changed. Lose necessary piece of equipment and live precariously without a cistern/ flusher, whatever, for a few hours.
Listen to Michael Nyman play the piano all day.
Franticly move the laundry inside (twice) due to the heavy rain.
Study history with your son to prepare for next day’s exam.
Make carrot soup.
Buy your son 3 pairs of socks for 10.00 Euros at the supermarket. Check for elasticity and a tight knit.
Spread the fun at the bus stop where you are soaking wet, carrying shopping bags and shouting abuse to taxi drivers who don’t take you home.

Bewitched

2006-10-29T19:20:00.001+02:00

I have been tidying up the computer because Stephanie is coming and I don’t want it to be a mess. Especially the music folders. At some point I should do the same about the house but for some reason I thought the computer was more important.
Anyway, the reason I am bringing this up is because I found I have a folder named Nicole. That’s where I put all the Nicole Kidman photos I find. It’s about 1G (I have other DVDs from previous years named Nicole 1, Nicole 2, etc).
Why am I such a sad individual? I am not a teenager, I am not a stalker (although Okkervil River would disagree but that’s a story for another post), yet I have this incomprehensible urge to collect every single Nicole Kidman picture I find. Why do I do this? I don’t search for news about her and I only know what everybody knows about her. For example, that she is very tall and used to be married to Tom Cruise and now is married to a country music star.
What drives my hand to right click on her photos and save them?
And why have I been doing this for 5 years?
Most importantly, if Nicole Kidman goes on to play in more movies and collect more awards, will I need IBM's Deep Blue to store all these photos?

Oyster boys

2006-10-26T23:53:00.000+03:00

Blondie got me “The melancholy death of oyster boy and other stories” the other day and I have been reading it non-stop. Don’t buy it for your kid though. It’s twisted, macabre, strangely funny and best of all, written by Tim Burton. This is one of my favourite stories in the book.
You can see a movie of relevant aesthetic here

I got a new screen. Suddenly everything is bright and big and clear. Your blogs look different. My blog looks different. I thought it looked okay until I saw it for what it was: totally out of proportion. The old screen was not really a screen at all, more like a button hole.

I went to the dvd rental place to get my weekly load of silly movies and cartoons. Only this time I also wanted to get a PS2 game for my son. One of the customers was a 15-16 year old boy who freaked out when I asked for the “Monster House” dvd.
“Are YOU going to watch Monster House?” he asked me, disgusted.
“Yes, but it is mainly for my son”.
“How old is your son?”
“Eight”
“He is not allowed to watch that! It is very scary!”
“I am trying to interest him in the genre so we can watch Hellraiser together.”
The boy shaked his head and turned to go when he saw “Cars” for PS2, in my hand.
“Are YOU playing PS2?!”
Clearly he has forgotten everything about my son, he looks at me as if I was a pervert, the girl at the till is fuming and I am enjoying this rare moment in my life where I get to shock the unshockable: a 16 year old boy.

Guess who’s coming to dinner

2006-10-25T15:56:00.000+03:00

How to make magic mushrooms out of a simple button mushroom

This was the opposite of writer’s block. It was a cataclysm of thoughts that were impossible to write down. Or I was lazy, pick your answer.
Some people wrote to me asking why I was sad. I was not sad, I was autumnal.
I have a theory about civilizations, that maybe isn’t my theory but until I remember where I read it, it’s mine. My theory is that there is a different collective age for different civilizations. That means that no matter how old or young you are, you still carry some portion of the collective age of your community in you.
Europe is a middle aged civilization. It has been around for a while. So its people carry all sorts of vices and virtues of middle age. Existential issues and a sweet ennui are part of this. Along with the luxury to ponder on meaningless things instead of going to the gym.
Have you seen French films? It’s like that.
That’s what I have from time to time. It’s silly but necessary for my happiness. A warm mist that encloses me and sends me back into myself. And then it pops me out of course.
Which is a lucky thing, since I want to be here when my friend Stephanie visits me in a few days.
Did you hear that? Stephanie from Boston is coming to Athens to spend some time with me.
I can’t tell you how thrilled I am. Maybe we can see Okkervil River together, if the gig is not cancelled that is (rumour has it that it’s already been cancelled) which would make two of my dreams come true.
At first I thought I might be nervous, but I am not. My only concern is that Stephanie won’t be able to understand a thing I say, because I don’t speak as fluently as I write. But we can still communicate through our blogs. (Stephanie, my computer is your computer).

Notes written in the margin

2006-10-19T23:39:00.000+03:00

I made pumpkin pie. It’s not a common dessert in Greece but I made it for the magazine and I just ate its last piece.

I designed our company’s site. Now the programmers are going to work on this design and make it better and add the mechanics it needs to function. Like, the shopping cart.

My hair is falling. I am not stressed, I just got off the Pill. I had no idea the Pill gave me nice hair. When I am 60, what excuse am I going to have to buy the Pill so as to have lustrous hair?

I want to redesign this blog. I am bored. Therefore, your ideas are not just welcome, they are necessary.

The CD with the songs you selected is ready. If anyone wants it, please email me: smosh1@otenet.gr

I miss London.

I let everybody down these last couple of weeks. If you are one of the people I let down
a. you should have seen it coming and
b. I am truly sorry, I am trying to change my ways, mainly by sleeping more and thinking less.

Spam (stands for Sending Phenomenal Amounts of Money)

2006-10-17T21:54:00.000+03:00

Here's another spam I got today. I thought I'd share my good fortune with you:

Dear reader,
Can a dieing man trust you with a huge sum of money for his last wish? If yes reply me urgently on shadaksherif2@spray.se to get more details.
Regards,

Shadak

Dear Shadak,
I am sorry that you are gravely ill and dieing of terminal illiteracy.
You couldn’t have found a better person to trust a huge sum of money with. I always knew there was somebody watching over me and that I wouldn’t always have to work hard to put the cereal box and the organic milk on my table.
Regards,
Chloe

Still, it's okay

2006-10-16T23:00:00.000+03:00

You were so beautiful. You were my beautiful friend. I loved you so much. You made having coffee a transcendental experience. I adored you. All through high school. And college. And adulthood. And then I stopped adoring you. And that was it.
I miss this feeling of pure adoration. We are mortals and that’s such a shame. We should be gods. Could we be gods? We’d never have fought then. I would have never said those words and you would have never been such a twit. Still, it’s okay. I love you always.

This weekend

2006-10-16T00:47:00.000+03:00

Friday: one of the books Cathy gave me as a gift. I have started reading it. It tells me how to write recipes and articles on food.

I made some soup. I was cold.

Saturday: We went to see "The Devil Wears Prada" with Joanna. Then we had dinner together.
Erm, this is some kind of art we liked in Exarheia area, Athens.

Joanna treated M and me to gelato

The juke box

Sunday: Coffee and tea with my sister, Joe, M and my son on Sunday (after voting for mayor, since it was election day in Greece )

Back to the future

2006-10-14T02:18:00.000+03:00

I went to my mum’s, that familiar, comfortable and loved territory that is her house for me and I just realized: one day, my son is going to reminisce about me, his mother, and say “ah, my mum used to have the best photoshop wallpapers, bless her”.

Once I wanted to be the greatest

2006-10-12T13:51:00.000+03:00

I don’t want to be the greatest anymore. Not that I ever was. God, no. But I wanted to be. Now I don’t. It must mean I grew up at last.
So I don’t like people who expect this of me. Good is not always good. Some days I need to be the worst. The worst person ever. An awful human being. And I can be.

Song of the day: The Greatest / Cat Power (says it all)
Something nicer to read, here: Happiness: A User's Manual

Control: no

2006-10-10T19:50:00.000+03:00

All the parents whose kids are antisocial, abusive, violent and in desperate need of counseling, and who instead of offering that counseling, are forever holding the TV remote control, even to the extent where they use it to point to things in the room ("fetch my slippers, will you?"), should get the hell out of their house and do something. Because I am going over there and stuffing that remote control up their ears, nose, mouth and every other bodily hole, big or small. And then, they won’t be able to change channels, and we know that they don’t want that.

A change

2006-10-09T12:02:00.000+03:00

Sometimes I am afraid I will go back to that place where all I ever wanted to do was sleep. At night I am afraid that sleep is going to come to me and never go away. So I don’t sleep.
In the morning I feel free again and I can actually sleep. But not when it is dark. It’s difficult then.
Sometimes I think of people who have left forever. I don’t mean dead people. But they are never coming back. Not to me at least. That person I was is not there anymore. So who are they going to come back to?
And now I am on the verge of doing something which might be worth my effort but all I can think of is I don’t do enough. I forget the things I do and can’t defend myself when I am asked “what have you been doing?” I just shrug and say “oh nothing much”.
So much has changed in the last year. And you’ve been here, listening as I was becoming someone else. In the beginning I wanted to just write. Then I wanted to be read by many. How silly, but maybe a necessary stage. Now I don’t care about the people I don’t know reading me. When you read me, you know me, and that’s when I start to care. I hope you’ll be around to witness more of my incarnations. If someone witnesses them, it must mean they are real.

They say it's your birthday

2006-10-07T18:05:00.000+03:00

Happy Birthday M. Don't kill me when you see I made your photo pink.

Happy Birthday Stephanie. I hope this year rolls like a shining disco ball.
Happy birthday Thom Yorke. I've made so much food for M's birthday, would you like to come over?

MSN, now I love you. Now I don’t.

2006-10-05T18:27:00.000+03:00

When my computer was taken away in September I was given that cheap replacement which was very slow and couldn’t do many of the wonderful things my regular computer does. We are talking about basic things, I did not expect it to make coffee and stir it anti-clockwise. So I had no MSN or any other messenger service for more than a month. And now I feel as if the distance between MSN and I is widening. Actually it’s more like a canyon and less like a gap.

I used to love MSN. I used to think it was magical that I could talk to people I liked in the middle of the night and listen to music with them, or talk to Blondie and make silly jokes. And now it is bothering me. I didn’t see it coming, I swear.

Is it because I am getting more and more difficult? First it was the phone (in general, I don’t answer the phone, either mobile or landline), then it was texting (I hate texting people and when somebody sends me a text message to keep in touch I just want to fill their neighbourhood with posters with CHEAP written underneath their faces), and now it’s instant messenger? Where is this going to end?

How am I going to communicate? I can’t do all my living by email. Or can I?

To clarify: It’s not that I don’t like the people I talk to on MSN. I adore them. Most of them at least (yes, not YOU, you know who you are). It’s the medium of communication that I don’t like. There is my picture with me smiling and wearing lipstick. And I type in my pyjamas looking awful. There is no truth in that. It’s not me. MSN, maybe it’s over between us.

M’s birthday gift is the good ultrasound result

2006-10-03T20:25:00.000+03:00

M’s birthday is approaching -and Stephanie’s too, and apparently Thom Yorke’s. What should I give M as a gift? And don’t tell me to make anything, men don’t appreciate handmade gifts (unless you can make an ipod from scratch). Any ideas?

I took my son to the cardiologist today. He was complaining of chest pains last night and the night before that. And because one of his hobbies is reading about the human body and drawing skeletons, he could describe the pain in horrifying detail, so I took him for a triplex ultrasound examination.
He is all right. I was a bit scared. But I got to see his heart on the monitor (he has one after all).

Thank you for the sweet emails telling me nice things and for the cards you sent me. I was begging for compliments and you were generous, as always. Some days, I just need to be told the things I am supposed to know.

Give me five

2006-10-02T14:19:00.000+03:00

All the emails in my inbox are from work. And not about the nice, creative work I am supposed to be fixing my attention on. They are about translation work, and they keep hitting me like torpedoes.
I hit RECEIVE hoping that a nice email, is going to appear (out of nowhere, since I didn’t post in the weekend) one of those “you are so funny, hahaha, lol” emails, and instead I get 5 consecutive boring emails with 5 attachments each, every attachment being a 55 page document I have to translate. Five is the magic number here.

P.S Sorry to all the IE users. I am trying to fix the problem that makes the right column disappear. Erm, any chance of changing browsers?

Six single rooms, presto

2006-09-28T07:55:00.000+03:00

I had to post this.
It arrived today in my hotmail account. Yes, it was originally written in caps. By the way, I was thinking, people who use your computer and leave the caps lock key on, are similar to the people who leave the toilet seat up.

DEAR SIR/MADAM,

WE HAVE 6 GUESTS INTERESTED IN BOOKING ROOMS IN
YOUR PLACE FOR A TEN DAY HOLIDAY PERIOD.
PLEASE, KINDLY PROVIDE ACCOMMODATION FOR THE 6 GUESTS
FROM THE 10TH NOVEMBER 2006 TO THE 20TH NOVEMBER OF 2006.THEY
WOULD NEED THREE DOUBLE ROOMS OR SIX SINGLE ROOMS*
DEPENDING ON AVAILABILITY.
FORWARD A COMPREHENSIVE BILL FOR THE PERIOD SO THAT A
CREDIT CARD WILL BE ISSUED TO YOU FOR BILL SETTLEMENT.
GET BACK WITH YOUR TOTAL BILL IN EUROS OR US DOLLARS
FOR THE PERIOD.

BEST REGARDS.....,**

TERRY BROOKS.

* Sure, six single rooms, no problem Terry. I can cook breakfast too.
**I appreciate the use of ellipsis after "best regards" to show that the rest is silence. Or maybe it is an unfinished thought (best regards....suckers)

My job bothers me but I am lucky with gifts

2006-09-27T20:25:00.000+03:00

It's all in the title, to save you the trouble.
I am weary. No fun for many days in a row.
Just endless typing and phone calls for work. Some prolonged bus rides too. More smelly people. Bills and chores. Weird dreams (why would all my orange hair fall and grow back in seconds?)
Can someone amuse me please? I am easily amused.

One good thing: My computer is back and now we can proceed with the cds we were making, you and I.
Another good thing (great actually): Cathy gave me an Amazon gift certificate and here’s what I chose:
-The Jane Austen Cookbook, written by a food historian and an Austenian scholar.
-Jane Austen: A Life
-Will Write for Food, a guide to writing cookbooks
Isn't she lovely? Thank you Cathy. I am going to make such a fine mess in the kitchen cooking Jane Austen's foods.
And did I mention my friend from Texas, who sent me shortbread and chocolate and my cow Mooly? And sweet Barrett sent me a nice package with music, tea, butterflies, and wishes in a little red velvet envelope.
Now you are never going to believe I need to be enternained, are you?

I must meme too

2006-09-26T10:20:00.000+03:00

I decided I can't be a snob who doesn't do memes anymore.

ARE YOU:
1. A Cuddler? Not really. I cuddle my son a lot, but nobody else.
2. A morning person? I don’t do mornings.
3. Are you a perfectionist? For a few things only.
4. An only child? I have a younger sister, who really acts like an older sister to me. Since we were little.
5. Catholic: No.
6. In your pajamas? No, I am ready to go.
7. Currently suffering from a broken heart? Thank god, no. I wouldn’t be able to work.
8. Okay styling other people's hair? I have a hard time styling my own, never mind other people’s.
9. Left handed? Yes
10. Addicted to MySpace? I hate it.
11. Shy around the opposite gender? I am shy around all genders.
12. Loud? I am a quiet force.

DO YOU:
12. Bite your nails? Yes. They are very nutritious.
13. Get paranoid at times? Only when I notice things. I am not paranoid. They are after me.
14. Currently regret something that you have said/done? No regrets.
15. Curse frequently when you get mad? I only curse my computer. I call him names. We are volatile.
16. Enjoy country music? Not really.
17. Enjoy jazz music? A lot. Not free jazz though.
18. Enjoy smoothies? With a drop of alcohol.
19. Enjoy talking on the phone? I hate talking on the phone. That’s why I never answer it.
20. Have a lot to learn? I am a very knowledgeable person, but there must be a couple of things left.
21. Have a pet? My mum has them (2 cats). I grew up with them but wisely, they preferred to stay at my mum’s.
22. Have a tendency to fall for the "wrong" person? Yes. But it’s okay because I am wrong too.
23. Have all your grandparents died? Yes.
24. Have at least one sibling? Yes.
25. Have been told that you are smart? Yes. I am very overrated.
26. Have had a broken bone? Once at school, I broke my arm during PE. That’s why I don’t like to exercise. It is very dangerous.
27. Have Caller I.D. on your phone? What for? I never answer it.

HAVE YOU:
28. Changed a diaper? I have changed many diapers. Actually, I miss the diaper changing thing.
29. Changed a lot over the past year? A lot, yes. It was a nice surprise.
30. Had friends who have never seen your natural hair color? Close friends, no. Acquaintances, yes.
31. Had surgery? Just the caesarean.
32. Killed anyone? No and I hope I won’t have to.
33. Had your haircut within the last week? Last 2 weeks.

LAST PERSON WHO:
1. Slept in the bed beside you? M
2. Saw you cry?: M
3. Went to the movies with you? M
4. You went to the mall with?: my friend Anna, in England.
5. You went to dinner with? Can’t recall. I invited friends over to dinner on Saturday. Does it count?
6. You talked to on the phone? I called a taxi.
7. Said 'I love you' to you and meant it? I only say it when I mean it. I told my son and I wrote it to Cathy.
8. Broke your heart? It bends but it doesn’t break.
9. Made you laugh? Blondie and my sister.

WOULD YOU RATHER?
1. Pierce your nose or tongue? What a mess. Well, nose.
2. Be serious or be funny? Funny. It’s the best compliment.
3. Drink whole or skim milk? Whole.
4. Die in a fire or drown? Drown. You pass out at some point so it must be better.
5. Spend time with your parents or enemies? Parents of course.

ABOUT YOU!
1. What time is it? 10:06
2. Name? most of you know, it is in my email.
3. Nickname(s)? turtle sprout but I haven’t been called that for a long time (Steve is in Korea, that’s why).
4. Where were you born? Athens
5. What is your birthdate? March 19.
6. What do you want? Fun, success, love.
7. Where do you want to live? Ultimately, in Edinburgh.
8. How many kids do you want? I’d like one more. I am undecided.

Frau Blucher: love at first sight

2006-09-25T23:54:00.000+03:00

There was a meeting for parents and teachers at my son’s school yesterday.
We sat at the desks and waited to meet the teacher for the first time. I placed my pen neatly above my notebook, and there she came.
It’s a shame this woman is wasted on kids. She would have made an excellent Hitchcock heroine. Blonde, tall, thin, with a shining in her eyes. With a bright smile, cold and tough, determined and extremely clever, this woman has her colleagues stand in awe. The school director is afraid of her too.
I have an endearing name for this kind of woman (although the blonde, tall, thin part does not always apply): Frau Blucher.
As Frau Blucher started talking, explaining her teaching methods, giving handouts and making charts, I found myself sulking in my chair. Do not notice me Frau Blucher, do not ask me anything. All these feelings I had hid in my mind’s school drawer, surfaced “Love me teacher, but do not hurt me.”
So I pretended to be taking notes, when I noticed an identical painting to this on the wall behind her, made by a sloppy kid obviously, who I hope was reprimanded accordingly:

I love you too, Frau Blucher.

The Man in Grey

2006-09-22T00:04:00.000+03:00

Incidentally, I made pasta today: An irrelevant piece of information to attract readers

You know how I carry my silly magnet with me at all times, so as to never miss a silly person that might be in proximity?
I have a similar smelly person magnet, but I did not have it on my person today.
And do you know how in Greece, some people on the bus talk to strangers? For the whole duration of the ride?
So I was in the bus, with my potent magnet, reading a newspaper. The Man in Grey sat next to me of course and made himself very comfortable. But really, you don’t know how comfortable. Every time the bus made a turn, I feared I may end up in a compromising position with the Man in Grey.
To widen my personal space, I opened the newspaper. What a fool I was. He was clearly interested in the stories I had been reading (a political scandal involving a dairy company) because he started reading -with lips moving, like a first grader- behind my ear. So I moved to the horoscope page. Men don’t care about horoscopes, do they?
-I am Taurus. What does it say about Taurus?
-It’s not about you. It says “to those of you lucky enough not to be traveling by bus or metro…”
(That’s what it said, I swear)
-And may I ask what your sign is?
-Pisces.
-And what does it say about Pisces?
- I don’t know. I always read Aries.
-And may I ask why you read Aries?
-Because I always wanted to be Aries.

And that did the trick. He moved away. I did not have to touch his thigh anymore. Ruffling the pages of my newspaper, putting my bag between us, becoming one with the window, coughing, achieved nothing. Being crazy enough to think I could choose my sign instead of reading the one I was born under, did. See?

24 on a bad day

2006-09-20T22:38:00.000+03:00

Today the rain came. Torrential rain that washed the streets and the leaves and the skies. I went out with the pretense of going to the bakery, but in reality, to take pictures.
“Am I still young? Has my body changed? Am I able to do less than before?” I was wondering as I was taking pictures. Because M made a comment last night that left me speechless.
“We don’t look as fresh as we used to, look at the photos” he said. And I did. And I saw nothing. “Sorry, you are alone in this,” I replied.
But now there is doubt. I wanted to fight that doubt. To tell him that men age sooner than women, that I feel great, or at least, if he sees the change, to keep the truth from me.
Because I see parents my age at my son’s school and I always think of them as older than me. When I talk to them I use honorific plural. Like a child. Ridiculous, I know.
It’s not the clothes, or the hair. It’s that I never feel settled. In many ways, I will always be 24.

Rhythm is gonna get you

2006-09-19T23:19:00.000+03:00

Joe took this picture

My son and I pass outside a ballet school. We can see the little ballerinas practising their pliés. My son grimaces in disgust. I haven't seen this face since the day he accidentally ate sticky okras.
-Blech!!!!!! It’s lucky that boys can’t be ballet dancers.
-Who said that? Many boys are ballet dancers. Who do you think dances the male parts in Swan Lake?
-Come on mum. Everybody knows these people are NOT real dancers. They are just there to catch the ballerinas when they spin and leap.

And with that remark, he throws up his hands in exasperation, as if to ask why would god give him such an ignorant mother.

Gazillion-euro machine needed

2006-09-18T22:27:00.000+03:00

The reason I went to London was to set up a company that will import traditional greek and mediterranean, organic food to the UK. This is not a personal project, I am pursuing it with a very good friend of mine. It is going to be an online company, but also a wholesale business that is going to sell to delis, restaurants and shops (we hope).
Any ideas for names would be greatly appreciated. We spent hours on the internet, trying to find appropriate names that wouldn’t necessarily include the word “greek”.
Erm, “Olympic deli” is OUT of the question too.
This business has to succeed. Absolutely has to. Because I must make enough money to buy a house and move there. This is what I was thinking as I was strolling around in Richmond Park. “How long will it take my son to learn English?” was another very realistic thought.
My friend’s husband bought us two handcrafted angels from a gallery as a good luck present. Because the food is going to be organic, we thought it would be nice to somehow include the angels in the logo, or banner or whatever.
As I said, feedback will be greatly appreciated. I promise to revamp your blogs, send food over, accommodate you in Greece, whatever you want.
The next step is to find a warehouse in London to store the goods, and an employee, someone who is going to work part time and will basically prepare the packages (or baskets) for the delivery company.
Wish me luck. I make a mess of even the best thought out plans, but I hope this time is going to be an exception. As my friend says, if everything goes wrong, at least, we’ll be left with massive amounts of food.

Where I feel free

2006-09-17T21:42:00.000+03:00

That's London through my tourist eyes. I spent most of my time in Richmond, running around to set up this business. I only went to central London to see the Modigliani and Kandinsky exhibitions. Tomorrow, I am going to tell you everything, but for now, it's just pictures.
I am sorry I couldn't meet anybody. But next time, I will, and the way things are now, next time is going to be very soon.

Panic on the streets of London

2006-09-11T23:53:00.000+03:00

Lovely Day sent me my hello kitty fix. You thought I wouldn't eat a kitty?

I am going to London tomorrow (no cosmetics in my hand luggage. No pens either).
I will be back on Saturday. Look after the blogosphere for me.

Weddings, the sequel

2006-09-11T01:54:00.000+03:00

Let me collect my thoughts on weddings, after the one I went to last night.

-Weddings shouldn’t be frequented by jealous people who are going to look at you (the bride or groom) with envy. These people are the first to leave a reception because they can’t stand the fact that you look beautiful and happy and didn’t fall flat on your face during the first dance.

-A woman was wearing an identical dress to this. Only, hers was a bit more revealing around the décolleté area. That was a church wedding. She could have shouted “here I am, forget about the bride! Hey, look here, breasts!”

-The only moment I am tearful in weddings is when the bride steps out of the car. I get a “sacrificial lamb” feeling, although I don’t think of women as victims . It’s just that brides go through all this trouble and the groom just stands there in his suit, oblivious to all the plucking and waxing and exfoliating that is involved. I felt like that last night too. My friend looked like an amazon, strong and beautiful, like a star. A 600 megawatt beauty. My jaw dropped when I saw her. And the groom looked well, nice in his suit.

-Finally, weddings are occasions where you meet people from school. Now we don’t want that, do we? People from school are aliens. They were put in our class by Alien Intelligence. They were humanoids that studied human development. With all respect to extraterrestrial life, we passed the test. Why do we have to have updates?

Wedding day (not mine, thank God)

2006-09-09T17:49:00.000+03:00

Τοday one of my childhood friends is getting married. I am very very happy for her. Like most people, she has met her share of assholes. But unlike most people, her share was something like 95% of the pie.
I don’t hold wedding ceremonies in high esteem. I went through it to have a party and make my parents happy. Our 5 year old son was our pageboy.
Vows should be exchanged every day, even silently. On the way to work, at breakfast, or on Sunday mornings. If you are not willing to do that, don’t bother, really.
But I am happy for my friend because she met someone who appreciates her kindness and beauty and respects and loves her. And they should have a party for that. (And I get to wear heels too).

School sucks (still)

2006-09-09T01:35:00.000+03:00

what my son is leaving behind

My son waived the privilege of choosing his backpack this year for the greater pleasure of one more vacation day. He is coming back on Sunday afternoon and starts school on Monday. I thought I had better at least ask him about the backpack’s colour so as to avoid drama first thing on Monday morning.

-What colour do you want your schoolbag to be?
-NOT pink.
-Okay but give me a colour.
-Mauve.

Mauve. And that ended the subject.
The truth is I would buy him a leopard print backpack with tartan pockets and gold zippers if he had asked me to, because I am so sorry he is going back to school. Going to school is not a natural state of being. Learning at his age (8), shouldn’t be done in schools nor in any other institution.
I am sorry he has to wake up that early every day. I am sorry he has to learn useless things. I am sorry he is not going to have enough time to play.
And I am not sure that the mauve backpack makes it better.

Not hiding, just busy

2006-09-06T12:41:00.000+03:00

A quick note to let you know I am okay but:
-Running around to enroll my son to English classes, swimming classes, and erm, school.
-Going to that concert hall at nights for work and generally getting bored there and reading my book.
-Trying to renew my passport so I can go to London next week for a couple of days. I am going to be seeing people about this new business I am setting up with an old –and good- friend. It is going to be an interesting trip but also excruciating for my lazy and leisurely nature.
-Getting ready for another old friend’s wedding this Saturday.
-Preparing the recipes for the magazine’s next issue.
-Translating the silly book.
-Uploading all my Typepad blogs (Bread and Butter and One Click a Day) to Blogger Beta. That was hard work. They are linked above where the old sites used to be. I think they look pretty similar to the Typepad ones. Opinions? Because at some point I started thinking I would soon become rich if I saved those 8 dollars per month that subscription was costing me. All the possibilities unfolded before my very eyes.
Tonight I am going to visit all your blogs although I take sneak peeks via Bloglines every day. Missed you.

Invisible

2006-09-02T12:19:00.000+03:00

I've found this ghost boat in Pireaus

I am attending the most boring concert ever. I have to, for work. It’s some greek songwriter who has been practically playing the same song for 2 hours. I am praying for rain, for a flying saucer to land on the stage, or for a big giant to lift the artist off his chair and throw him behind the mountain. Anything to stop the concert. Alcohol, drugs, lobotomy, wouldn’t be enough.
The audience is clapping. Mercifully, there is an interval. A woman with a fuchsia shawl comes and sits at my table. Her friend tells her “there’s a girl sitting here” as if I were deaf, or as if only she could see me, possessing the sixth sense. “Oh, hi, can we?” the fuchsia lady says, already seated and smoking a cigarette. I nod yes. “See? Like I told you, she isn’t waiting for someone” the fuchsia lady concludes, and I rearrange my hair to show a perfectly functioning set of ears.

Going for gold

2006-09-01T16:11:00.000+03:00

Dear friends, as of now I am accepting congratulations for the Greek team’s victory over the US team in the semifinals of the world basketball championship, in Japan today.

A new photo series

2006-08-31T11:05:00.000+03:00

I uploaded photographs from Kithira on this Flickr page, as a celebration of life, blue doors and greek salad with feta and olives (there is a lot of food in the photos). So, no more of them here, we’ve had enough of the sea and the white houses, thank you.

I am grateful for your support yesterday. I work from home so I haven’t yet developed the thicker skin that is needed for being a journalist in Greece. Fortunately this particular collaboration with the psychopath is only until the end of September. She is going to be washed away by the first autumn showers. But you were sweet.

I haven’t forgotten about the cd we all made together. As soon as I returned from Kithira my computer became terminally ill and broke down again. This time I had already backed up everything but this temporary computer the technical support people gave me until mine is resurrected, does not have a cd recorder. So we are simply waiting for his majesty the computer to come home from the rehabilitation center.

I will be back later with a post as poetic, profound, revealing, complex, touching, meaningful, as you have come to expect, namely, 5 lines about sweaty men in taxis.

Whining, bemoaning, peevish

2006-08-30T11:55:00.000+03:00

I am surrounded by good people in my personal life. The friends I have, the friends I made through this blog, my family, are all good people. They are compassionate, loyal and fun.
I met up with Joanna yesterday and we had coffee together. It’s so effortless being with her. She got me a great book that I have started reading The History of Love by Nicole Krauss. She is encouraging me to do things I wouldn’t have the faith in me to do otherwise. As I said, I am very lucky.
But I haven’t been so lucky with people at work, and maybe you aren’t supposed to get too comfortable there.
This morning I made two telephone calls for work. I am clearly not cut out for this job. After the calls, I cried and cried and cried, not out of sadness. Nothing really bad had happened. I just felt sorry for myself for having to make those calls. To people who do not pick up the phone, to people who are not courteous and I am in a position to have to be kind.
I have banged doors in the past, a few of them. I have stormed out of offices, disagreed, raised my voice, even resigned. It is not that I don’t know how to do it. I do. But now, I have to be patient so as to get paid at the end of the month. And because I am rebellious by nature, this self-enforced submissiveness is killing me.

As I lay dying

2006-08-29T19:50:00.000+03:00

How air conditioning works in a stinky driver’s taxi:
Unless the air conditioning is set at a sub-zero freezing temperature where bacteria hibernate, what air conditioning effectively does is recycle and evenly distribute the air under the taxi driver’s stinky armpits in the front and back of the taxi.
Being human, you most probably rely on aerobic respiration for living, in which case, the stinky, poisoned oxygen that is transported throughout your body kills you. A dirty and painful death.

When you have to work with psychopaths

2006-08-28T13:31:00.000+03:00

Lifesaver tips for working with psychos (hands off my lifebuoy, I need it badly right now)

Psychopaths (in Cambridge Dictionary: persons who have no feeling for other people, do not think about the future and do not feel bad about anything they have done in the past) are people. Anyone could be a psychopath: the bus driver, the lady at the post office, your colleague. However, your colleague is most likely to be a psychopath. This is not a coincidence, as psychopaths are usually teamed up with sane people so that the corporation can test their endurance and flexibility.
If, like me, you are lucky enough to be going through this FREE test of emotional intelligence, here are a few tips:

-Your psychopath will expect you to read their minds in order to complete tasks. If you fail to read their minds, the psychopath is going to become angry at you and blame you for being irresponsible. Do read their minds by calling them 100 times a day.

-Once your psychopath is angry he/she is not going to answer the phone. Your psychopath may be crazy but he/she is not stupid. He/she can see your number on the telephone screen. Go out and call him/her from a public phone. This is going to catch him/her off guard and you might be able to establish basic communication so as to read their minds (see above).

Kindly remember that psychopaths will become extinct either by involving them in a caring and nurturing environment or by banging them on the head with a skillet.

Vacation candy, vacation pooh

2006-08-25T18:14:00.001+03:00

Vacation candy
-Cold Coronas
-The “where to lunch” problem
-That people wear whatever they can take out of their suitcases when they wake up at noon and aren’t wearing their contacts yet
-Daily consumption of ice cream and alcohol
-Having someone to send postcards to
-Buying mementos that look stylish in the village shop and hideous when placed among your regular city objects
-No worries about what to do since there is nothing to do
-Coming back to a clean house

Vacation pooh
-The smell of sunscreen
-The sand that gets everywhere and is found six months later by your gynecologist
-The constant sound of mobiles and their owners’ reassuring screams that they are indeed having fun
-Watered down coffee
-Creepy crawlies and flies
-No internet and yesterday’s papers

Deep into the ice cream cave

2006-08-25T12:15:00.000+03:00

The hardest part about holidays is not being alone for a minute of the day of the week. That irritates me and to avoid becoming a shrew I just stay away from an activity for a couple of hours each day. The others go to the beach and since I do not like the beach where the sun is frying me up like a strip of bacon, I go to a café with a nice view and listen to music on the mp3 and write and read.

Behold geologists, I did not use flash for these photos in the cave

This place must be doing something to me because I momentarily forgot my claustrophobia and went into the cave of Saint Sophia (no mean feat: the island is highly seismogenic), a magnificent place, with murals more than 900 years old. As I went deep into it, I felt peaceful and protected. The stalagmites and stalactites looked like huge melting ice creams.
I only had a minor panic moment when we had to crawl to enter a particularly narrow chamber of the cave. But the guide said I could stay where I was and didn’t need to follow the group.
Thankfully, the cave was dark and I was able to pretend I was one of the brave ones when we got out in the sunlight.

Throw away your encyclopedias, my son knows everything
-I hurt my foot on the beach today.
-I am so sorry my sweet. Did it make you cry?
-No. But I did lose 50 ml of blood.

Barbarossa may or may not have burnt our clothes

2006-08-24T13:39:00.000+03:00

Chora is the capital of the island. There is so much history here (I read that the island had been inhabited even earlier than 5000 BC) still, it doesn’t impose itself on you. If you want to ignore it, it lets you do so.
The island had been under the influence of Minoans, several Peloponnesian kingdoms, Phoenicians, Laconians, Arab pirates, Venetians, Byzantines, Turks, Algerians, the French, Russians, the English, before being reunited with Greece. Oh and it was once totally destroyed by the pirate Barbarossa who is my son’s superhero figure.

People are preoccupied with what they are going to have for lunch and where. That is a big ice breaker “where did you eat last night?”

Kythira is said to be the island of Celestial Aphrodite, the hiding place of Love in the south. Maybe that’s why people wear unimaginable things, especially tourists. Love is hiding their regular clothes. I saw a man wearing what must have been his wife’s skirt, wrapped around his head.
The waiters are trying to juggle trays full of frappes and water bottles. Not easy when you are passing by dressed like that.

My song of the day: Triumphant by Royksopp (I wrote this in the central Chora square)

Erm, I am back

2006-08-23T19:34:00.000+03:00

I like holidays in the second fortnight of August. Because there is this feeling that summer is ending and this finality makes the days brighter and nights are more fragrant with the smell of jasmin. People are mellower too, ripe and ready to fall.
Kythira is a very special place. There are lots of people and you feel their presence but you do not necessarily see them. It is a big island and they somehow disappear. The villages are tiny sometimes with no more than 20 houses and three churches. Lots of churches.
Everything is so quiet and if you sit still you can hear children playing on the top of a hill. There is a huge fig tree in our garden and it smells deliciously of figs and you touch it and it is sticky with fig milk.

My son liked it very much. "You did well to take me with you" he said, which for a boy his age, is the equivalent of a big kiss and a drawing with butterflies and hearts.

I have so much to tell you. There is so much I need to say, not just about the holidays. So please, bear with me and a couple of posts per day for the rest of the week. I really really missed you, I really really wish I could show you everything.

Thank you for the memory

2006-08-11T21:16:00.000+03:00

I love travel but I hate the laundry that goes with it. And the ironing, although that’s the step of personal grooming I usually skip. I only iron my son’s t-shirts so that the other kids won’t make fun of him at school.
I got an extra memory stick for my camera to ensure a pleasurable photographing experience in Kythera. In my mind, I exchanged a pair of new flip flops I wanted to buy for the memory stick (actually, 2 or 3 pairs, but it hurts to remind me this). I thought I could go without shoes to maximize storage space. Mercifully, M said he would buy the flip flops for me. So, yes, I won’t have to walk barefoot on donkey poop to bring you back photos.
Before I go, I need to confess something. I know blogs are supposed to be shrines of the ego, where you are glorified and even your mistakes are presented in a forgiving light.
However, I do not know what to do with this new fact in my life, for it is a fact: I am going to live without a computer and instead of feeling annoyed, I feel scared.
I do not like feeling like that. I am not addicted to the computer in the sense that I need to be at it all the time, but I am certainly addicted to its presence. I need to see its warm glow in the room.
See you all in a week and I am going to send you postcards, keep a light on for me, so long, ta-ta!

The unscholarly spammer

2006-08-09T17:32:00.000+03:00

Two changes in this blog: I have 45 songs to fit in that CD so I am going to start burning tonight. Therefore what is done is done.
Second, while I was sleeping, someone sent me 22 spam comments. Now you know I have issues with sleep being an overestimated bore and a waste of life. Still, I consider it a personal insult to be spammed while sleeping, because I sleep so few hours damnit.
Spammer, can’t you wait until I am awake? Do you have to backstab me like that?
So, friends, you are going to have to type that awful word verification thingy for a little while. Or until that spammer goes away (Spammer, “here are some links that I believe will be interested” is wrong. Try “interesting” instead).
The reason I am doing this is because I am going away on Sunday and I do not want to return a week later to 120 “here are some links that I believe will be interested” kind of comments.
This is where I am going to be. It's an island, Kythera, and we've been told it is very beautiful.
I’ll be glad to send you postcards, so if you want them email me please. Scroll a bit up, up, up, there, see? My email.

P.S I uploaded a picture of my new born nephew. If you like tiny babies, here he is

Hung up

2006-08-08T15:07:00.000+03:00

My son doesn't think it is weird that he uses this as a reading light at night

Have you ever held a telephone conversation while secretly trying to find a way to hang up the phone? Not a conversation, more like a monologue on the other end of the line, about someone else’s bottom? And how that someone has to apply ice on said body part?

And after Not finding an excuse quickly enough, and after being tortured emotionally, at the same time as being bored to the point where death sounds like pure entertainment, have you ever, you know, have you ever, just hung up the phone without a goodbye in the middle of a conversation?

(Okay I admit I am a coward because before hanging up I pressed 2 or 3 buttons to make it sound like there was something wrong with the line. She was screaming “Chloe, Chloe can you hear me?”).

P.S You can still submit best songs for the cd all day today. Hurry, Nero is waiting.

Let's make a cd

2006-08-06T22:32:00.000+03:00

I want to make a cd with people's best songs ever.
Just submit your best song. I know it is difficult. But imagine that cd! I promise to send it to each and every one of you who asks for it. There is going to be your name or blogname next to your song. Maybe a little "booklet" with your little comment for each one. Maybe your url if you will allow it.
Mine is: My Funny Valentine, by Chet Baker.
You take it from here.

My nephew is born

2006-08-05T19:24:00.000+03:00

This is not my nephew, but being a relatively new arrival, he doesn't like being photographed.

A new hope has come into the world: My beautiful nephew. He was born last night.
Likes: Eating his hand (as opposed to just sucking his thumb).
Dislikes: Everything else.

Pollyanna grows up

2006-08-04T17:59:00.000+03:00

There is a risk I might sound like Pollyanna, but so far I’ve only met nice blogfriends.
Yesterday evening I met with Vista at 8 and I returned home at 1:30. And we spent all this time in a café, just talking. We had so much to talk about and I don’t think we covered half of the most important subjects.
I know what the cynics –other people call them just reasonable- are going to say. That once you start actually spending time with people, things you don’t like are about to surface.
But I’ve had so much trouble finding people to just have a cup of coffee with that I really don’t mind if you prove to be less angelic than you appear to be in your blogs. We could always have a cup of coffee (and then go home and blog about it).

P.S Very nice article here: Love me, love my blog

Vader kitty strikes back

2006-08-03T16:32:00.000+03:00

I can't remember where or when I found this beautiful kitty.

Should I return with a random post as if nothing had happened or should I explain why I haven’t posted in ages.
This is what I have been thinking about.
I was in a bad mood, and when I am in a bad mood the only thing that relaxes me is playing with code. So there are some new pages on this blog, right above this post and the links to my other two blogs.
Not the only thing of course. Other things and people relax me as well, and I met up with Blondie who gave me gifts and bought me my favourite magazine, and somehow it seems okay now.
I have briefly told you about my very nice blogfriend Joanna who I met on Saturday. You may want to read her blog, she is a real journalist with a literary streak. She also bakes great cookies –crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside- the last of which I had for breakfast yesterday. She is funny and she is fun. She laughs a lot. She makes you feel comfortable. Thank you Blogger, thank you Internet, thank you Internet provider.
And today I am going to meet another blogfriend who is in fact one of the first people who started visiting this blog, back in the days when it was a humble standard Blogger template without all the trimmings, without any photographs and without any comments.
It is blown out of all proportion now, the trimmings, NOT the comments.
I am going to be good (or bad, depending on your view of things) and keep posting without the usual weekend break. I am going to start sleeping better. I am going to be calmer. I am going to be crunchier on the outside and softer on the inside, just like Joanna’s cookies.