There was a bus to Jablonec at 8:10AM on a Sunday. I should know, we used it to loose the money-bags. Where is it midweek?
Nowhere. And does the info-person tell you about that? Of course not, his only entertainment at this crappy job is to see flustered tourists flail around helplessly.
Anyway, the next bus was caught halfway across town, and a second trip to Jablonec, the glass beads source, commenced. Do I love taking road-trips by myself, or what? Have no idea what the boyfriend was doing, but I had fun staring out the window, just looking at rolling hills, apple-trees in bloom, and roadkill so unlike to what we have back in the Holy land. Mostly rabbits and birds, here.
This time all went smoothly - of course, local lost&found knows nothing about our wallet, and it was crazy hot, but shiny stuff was purchased in bulk, I snagged a free coffe with my order of cut glass, and there were even ducks in the local riverstream. Lucky day.
Note: If the bus on the way back to Prague leaves the station half an hour before it was supposed to, the driver looks like he normally works brick construction, two miles uphill from brick storage site, and all the passengers smell like they do, too - most probably, it is not the official bus to Prague. Oh, sure, it will get you there, eventually, but it will take three times as long. The road will be magnificent, true. Countryside cottages, rustic simplicity, all that heady stuff, with a generous helping of manure. If you are lucky, the bus will get stuck tail-gating a tractor dragging a whole stinking heap of it. I was lucky. Didn't I say everything went surprisingly well?
It's great that no matter where you are, or what you do, there is always one constant in your life. There will always be a hole-in-the-wall Chinese eatery, where there will be people who'd understand you. Provided you speak standard Mandarin, of course.
Seriously, I understand Czech well enough to get married in Mnichovice, which means, not at all, because the agency took care of everything. It's like the bastard child of Polish and Gobbledygook. The highest level of linguistical comfort yet was courtesy of your friendly neghborhood Chinese family.
Oh, and 0.5l of beer at ten thirty in the morning? Perfectly OK.
It's spring, and I get Sundays off. So I felt compelled to wear a longish skirt while runing errands - very atypical, since I'm a die-hard pants wearer. Of course, upon exiting the sanctuary of my appt I was promptly reminded exactly why it is so. Men. And not the nice selection, either. Filthy, stinking specimens, with sweaty shirts, oily eyes and muddy shoes. Last rainfall was three days ago. Even if you like my skirt, please refrain from rubbing all over it. It's 10AM, and you reek of beer, no, I won't give you my number.
Jesus, I was hoping I'm safely out of the prey age-range. Needless to say, my pointy elbows worked overtime today.
Experience tells me, that the most powerful way of ridding oneself of unwanted attention is attitude - Never leave the house happy or smiling. Bonus points for murderous rage seeping through every pore, but rare are women above teenage age who still retain it to sufficient degree.
Second rule - wear a potato sack, or its socially acceptable equivalent.
Third - get either very fat or very skinny. As in, morbidly obese, or emaciated. I've been both, and combined with proper gait and judicious choice of garment, it works beautifully.
Since nowadays I tend to be at my best behavior when I get the heck out of the appt, my job has dress-code, and I'm just fat enough to have the oh-so-grabable tits and ass, life is bound to get weird as the days lengthen.
Recent life events have demonstrated, that: 1.Degree of success in entry level laboratory tech position lies in direct proportion to ones' ability to stay focused like a Ritalin abuser, whilst spending hours sitting on your butt, watching paint dry. 1a. Inability to react in appropriate and timely manner gives you fancy-shmancy cancers. 1b. Your coworkers' inability to do so does too. 1c. Often, paint stays wet throughout the day. Then you have to freeze it, and come back next day to start over.
Addendum: I f**ken' love my job! It's like I have a pair of damn angel-wings! Woo-hoo!
2. Even one day a week gig as a friendly retail assistant warrants making a shirt that reads "Please no sneezing on hired help. Thanks, your friendly retail assistant" 2a. Failing to do so ensures you will spend your lab time watching paint dry through fever induced haze. 2b. Since this is a government institution, nobody but the new girl are crazy enough to come in while sick. Thus, you must be simulating. 2c. See 1a.
Addendum: people who sneeze on sales clerks in fancy food shops should go choke on hazardous chemicals somewhere. You would not have died for want of tom yum soup that week-end, sir, I assure you. Get well, and then go shopping for non-essential items. Simple.
P.S. CRS are pure love. That Wiki article needs a better picture.
Current Mood: sick&feverish Current Music:chirping birds.
Large tank got a DIY CO2 injector. I always hated the idea of having an aquarium, because I was sure it's like being violently forced to watch a lame TV show, with fish inbreeding and passing on in cycles. Not so, apparently. It's rather interactive, there is a lot of fiddling and tinkering with it, and if you choose hardy fish that don't breed unless all of their minuscule demands are met, there won't be too much of the "Miracle of Birth/Death" shenanigans. I still wish I could go fish-less, though.
Got the idea for the whole system from here: http://www.aqua.org.il/forums/showthread.php?t=143365
Basically, when you need a steady stream of CO2 and you don't want to spend couple of thousands on professional injection system, you'll have to rely on good old yeast to do the job for you. A bottle of Coke, a bottle of Sprite, (I remembered I hate Coke halfway in), 5 cups of sugar, teaspoon of east, a stop-valve, a T-valve, some tubing, silicone glue and a drill, and lo and behold, I've got ( pearling ) going on! The CO2 is fed directly into filter's nozzle (hello, power-drill!), mingles in it for a bit, and is ejected all mixed up with water. We'll see how it goes, hopefully it won't stay stuck in pockets there.
Since there won't be any fish in there for quite some time, I went all out and attached two bottles simultaneously. No fish - no fear of carbon dioxide poisoning. As it is, I'm doing the "fish-less cycle" with rotten stuff, hoping to achieve as low a body count as I possibly can. Will have to add fish sooner or later - their crap is beneficial to plants, apparently.
Of course, all that CO2 needs to be processed, and for that we (meaning, our aquarium plants) need light. This setup came with a measly 15W old fluorescent, that I ripped out. Cut up the lid, screwed some planks together - rigged the lights to a whopping 1W/L.
And to think that I used to find aquariums boring!
Current Mood:accomplished Current Music:marrrrrrrrr-mew - cats found the treats.
If I was still in school, I would so use this. There is at least a term paper, right here.
By popular opinion, this guy's voice is the reason Tamil cinema was so fervently religious for so long, and his unjust incarceration brought about an end of an era. After him it was all soppy love between lowly humans, basically. Personally, I like the secular productions more, but that's because they are easier for foreigners to relate to. After all, boobs are universal.
How is that every time I try and pose as a proper female serious, poised young lady, like, for example, here;
it always deteriorates into tomfoolery such as this;
Photos by andrii , thanks a lot. Poor dude ended up giving me a lift back home on his scooter. Those who know me are well aware of cheer recklessness in doing something like that. No, I didn't faint, haven't fallen off, and, as evident by this post, I'm alive and so is the photographer. I just ground my effin' molars to dust and stared ahead, very hard.
This was also my first time meeting one of those "I'll fiddle with your brain, let's both pretend that you don't notice" guys, in person. They don't bother me much, IRL, since I'm not really their type, but online they seem to all quote from the same manuals. Well, other than being confused and put off by my choice of footwear, this one behaved like a total gentleman. Seriously, no heels? Well, I'd never..!
And it was free! Professional lighting, crazy expensive camera lenses, all free, cuz' the guy had an evening to spare and was bored! Wee-hee, I love freebies!
Current Mood: chipper Current Music:כוורת - היא כל כך יפה
Our building has gas canisters as means of supplying cooking gas. Two canisters for every apartment, as soon as one is finished you switch, order up, gas company delivers, and you go on living, soup-guzzling merrily.
Friday all of these canisters were stolen. Entire building worth of them. We found out today, because we are still in Tel-Aviv mode, therefore blissfully unaware of things around us.
That fact makes for an interesting weekend, considering we are now in Ramat Gan, and the only thing they feed you here on Shabes is bad sushi. Seriously, the worst I ever had.
It would seem that I have a responsibility for a betta fish in a vodka bottle hoisted on me. I know nothing about fish, but I do know that they are not supposed to be in vodka bottles. :(
林语常- 唐人街 (Chinatown Family) I felt in urgent need for practice - my character typing is getting a bit rusty. Lin Yu Chang's book, Chinatown Family, that I'm currently reading, is proving to be an ample source of proverbs and behavioral stereotypes, so I figured it will do.
Встречаются два попугая. - Ты кто? - Я голубой волнистый попугайчик. - Почему голубой? - Я голубей люблю. - А почему волнистый? - Когда люблю, то волнуюсь...
turns into this -
There are two parrot. -Ty who? -I wavy Blue Parrot. -Why blue? -I love pigeons. -A wavy why? -When love, the waves ..
Feed it through once again, Simplified Chinese this time, tee-hee:
有两个鹦鹉。你是？ i波状蓝鹦鹉。为什么蓝？我爱鸽。波状，为什么呢？当爱情，波..
and back to Russian, loosing all punctuation and letterheads as we go along:
Есть два попугаи. Вы находитесь » - я волнистые попугайчики синий. - Почему Blue » - Я люблю голубей. - Волнистые, то почему? » - Когда любовь, волны ..
For all those who marvel at my "journal" being all in English I dug up this gem. They do sing it. Seriously. Translation is behind a cut, with my commentary.
Плясовая песня; записана в селе Краснохолм Илекского района Оренбургской oблaсти в 1939 г.
Оренбуржцы – казаки, они верно служат По станицам разъезжают, ни о чём не тужат.
Свод небесный наш покров, а земля постеля, Я ложусь, да дивлюсь, полюбила, да боюсь.
Полюбила я такого, казаченьку молодого, Ему с роду двадцать лет, ровно в саду алый цвет.
Сидит девка в теремке рученьки поджавши, Перед ней стоит казак, фуражечку снявши.
А я девка не така, хочу любить казака, Хочу любить казака, Opенбургского полка.
Opeнбургский командир за Дунай нас проводил Он на сером меренку разъезжает по полку
Вдоль полка разъезжал, всем здорово нам сказал: Здорово, казачки, круглые затылочки.
Cats got ringworm. mahrjutka &myself try and edge each other on in our language studies. In between those xi took a couple'o'pictures of me, and when Marik came over - of us both. Got it all black'n'whitened, fancyshit.
Cats are better, the sun is shining... Yes, I watch 2008 UEFA Championship. Since neither Israel nor Russia ever does anything remarkable in team sports of late*, my personal preferences are usually based on individual teams' performances. Meaning, if you give a good show, play a good game in the house matches, I'll follow you devotedly up until you flunk it or make it to the top. This time around, though, Russia stole the show. Greece? Spain? Who's that? These guys, I tell ya'll, that was good football.
1:3 against Holland, us sitting down with all the Arabs down at the Nargila Palace, crowd split neatly down the middle. Oddly, blokes rooting for Russia now are the same ones who supported Turkey just a couple of days ago. Odd Russian couple, dressed to the nines in Gopnik-chic, complete with animal print tank-top for her, popped collar for him. Only time I've ever seen another girl in there. They both behaved as if it's a big thing for them, being there, watching the game. Got all "we don't speak Russian" when Marik attempted to be friendly.
All in all, a good round-up for a nice little day. Awaiting the inevitable slew of jokes about Dutch-led team taking on the Dutch.
* Except, of course, Hockey against Canada, he-he :) but I'm not a fan of hockey.
Let's move the ginger issue further down the page I find myself reluctant to visit my own damn journal, because the top post pertains to timeless death. On the day it happened I plastered myself all over my brother, poor thing. And so, going to the beach with some beer I picked up a chewed-up feral. What could I do, it was ginger, god damn it. Puncture wounds all the way from shoulder to fingers, fractured wrist, active calicivirus and general nasty attitude. A borrowed squeeze cage and two weeks later I have a semi-healthy feral cat loose in my appt. Marik broke the quarantine, so tabby-pants got calicivirus too. Just a second here - in the old country there is about 70% mortality rate. Here - about 30%. Still don't like the odds.
And a funny note to round it all up - Dimona was spayed years ago, but having a male around provokes her into heat. They probably left a piece of ovary in. Anyways, she got needs, and she is not afraid to vocalize them. Loudly. At all hours. Aside from giving me a headache, she is bothering the neighbors, obviously. One of them called Marik yesterday to ask what's going on.
She thought our cats go crazy with hunger because we both died and nobody knows about it o.O
Kitten update. The kitten is quite dead. Have been so since yesterday morning, I just couldn't bring myself to write about it. All the immediate concerned parties have been notified. The thing is, he pulled through the pneumonia just fine, he started gaining back weight, was responsive and all. And then at night he refused to feed, and in the morning he threw up. Got all bloated. Rushed to the vet again, but there was nothing they could do - more shots were administered, and 10 minutes after I got back home he was gone.
An airborne virus, they said. Nothing could be done to prevent or to remedy that.
If only that dude would have waited a couple of days before he threw him away, to get his system going.
I never took "in process" pictures before. I'm never doing it again. I feel like throwing my camera away.
Kitten It's alive, still. After a fair amount of shots the vet says that if it pulls through the week it'll live, and if not - well... It's a he. He opened his eyes halfway today. Now that's a milestone. If he takes one look at this world and decides he doesn't want to stay here, I'll know that I'm in desperate need for new curtains. Khm.. Sorry. Gone all morbid here. It's difficult to just go through the motions of keeping it alive - I got bloody attached.
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_monia_'s journal
pissed off
sick&feverish
contemplative
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hungry
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