I often feel nostalgic over the past which I never had.
Russian Preserves: Berries for Winter
I was growing up in a house with a garden, which belonged to my grandma and later in a new apartment block with birch trees all around it. I was never bullied, and I had friends, I even liked school, and I didn’t mind having a baby brother (for about two days, after that it was all downhill). Every New Year’s Eve we had a decorated Christmas tree with gifts under it. Everybody at the time seemed to live in a “nice suburb”, because there were no “bad suburbs”. Phones were scarce so people had to visit each other, host dinner parties and cook yummy things.
I never experienced food shortages, or hours of queuing for the essential; my parents were never sent to Siberia for work and my grandma had a fruit orchard. I guess I had it lucky. Not everybody else did, though.
This is what this new blog is about. The USSR, the largest and one of the most resourceful countries on the planet, was a fantastically inefficient place. Sending people to space was one thing, and it was easy. Providing kids with toys was totally different, and boy look at
those toys. They managed to build
cars of the finest caliber, yet
fashion was sooo behind, it makes me feel teary just to look at it.
In one word, very controversial. Yet it is very dear to me, maybe that’s why I so feel enthusiastic about it. See you there.
What did I want? All I wanted was a lottery ticket, and fair enough, today’s jackpot is 27m. And do I have a single lotto ticket? Of course not. Bye bye my millions, just like that.
However, last night, when I was feeling lower than my carpet and had to physically stop myself from blogging “lousy lousy lousy lousy lousy Eva“, I thought that if 50 different people wished me a happy birthday on the day, I’d take that back. Guess what? I just counted my chickens, and there, the 50th* text message said: wanna wish you heaps but leave it to say personally. Go girl!
______
*Yeah, lousy enough to actually count.
I just do not seem to understand everybody’s obsession with Susan Boyle. Yes, she can sing ok. Yes, she’s got a strong and clear voice. I mean, hello, nowadays, who hasn’t? Seriously, if you sing in a church choir for over 30 years with no silly distractions like family or career - you’d be there. Anyone could be a fairly good singer, or a businessman, or a Gordon Ramsey, given this long.
Moreover, get yourself a solfeggio teacher, and in six months you’d nail all the Korean karaoke joints. In a year you’d sing in a local pub, and then the suburban sky is really a limit there. I just suspect that the whole success of Ms S Boyle is based on the contrast of how ugly she looks and how pleasantly she sings. Like hey, this crap’s got talent. Oh well, shame shame shame.
February 25, 2009 – 7:01 pm
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals and say we’ve no money for butter.
And I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and a pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We will have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
February 22, 2009 – 11:51 pm
Dear Eva,
I am very pleased to inform you that in Summer School 2008 you attained one of the top results in Issues in Human Resources Management (467945/95) at the AUT. You are one of the Business School’s high achieving students.
Congratulations on your academic success. This reflects the effort ad commitment you have made in your studies.
I wish you every success in your future studies.
Yours sincerely
Prof Des Graydon
Dean, Business School
Pro Vice Chancellor International.
****
Well-well-well, it does not surprise me. When I just started in 2003, I had two jobs, a half dozen eligible bachelors to go out with every night of the week and a very busy schedule to stick to. Now, being a suburban housewife with no hobbies, I have nothing better to do than to excel academically. Sad I run out of steam too quickly, I could bear the next star of shining knowledge in the whole of Business School.
