The funny post of the day:
I've been drinking juice spritzers that taste totes like the soda one could get out of these public soda machines in Russia in the 1980s: 
You took a real glass, flipped it upside down on a little fountain thingy, and it washed it like a miniature dishwasher. Then you put it under the spout, dropped in 5 kopecs (I suppose the current equivalent would be 5c) and pushed the soda button. Every machine had three buttons, but usually only two options were functional - seltzer or soda, and the flavours depended on whatever they loaded the machine with that day - usually something citrusy. Easy and good for the environment.
The sad post of the day: forgive the convoluted language. It's a nostalgic kind of day, and this from a very nostalgic poet - Bulat Okudjava.
This connection of hearts -
It is an ancient mechanism.
It seems that the end is quite near…
But in one moment – a thaw is here.
It seems the time has come –
A break is nearly imminent.
But everything that exists in the morning
Can turn around by the time evening comes.
This connection of hearts –
It is an ancient mechanism.
- But what if the end has truly come?
- What bloody thaw can we talk about?
And if the time has come indeed,
All contrivances are useless.
- What has been, is no longer relevant
- And the two of us, even apart, are still beautiful
And in the moments - sweet and sorrowful -
All the words from books of note,
And all the teachings of those who “only want the best”
Have lost their importance.
And only the two of us can understand
The sources of our joy and torture.
And we stand by this, we live by this,
And draw our solace from separation.
When I was 13 and obsessed with Victor Tsoy (earlier mentioned here), I found great solace in a line from his song that goes like this:
“Смерть стоит того, чтобы жить, а любовь стоит того, чтобы ждать”
“Death is worth living , and love is worth waiting .”
At 31, I still find solace in it.
And now, simply because I feel guilty for not posting, a little more translation.
Стань моей птицей - could be heard here
Диана Арбенина from Бонни & Клайд (2007)
стань моей птицейстань моей птицей
чтобы во мне повториться
чтобы во мне повториться
стань моей кровью
стань моей раной
чтоб задыхаясь на плаху
чтоб на прощанье не плакать
чтоб четыре крыла по периметру неба
чтоб кричали тела горячо и нелепо
чтобы высохшим ртом по периметру пульса
не целуйся
стань моей крохой
стань моим сыном
чтобы во мне не остыло
чтобы во мне не остыло
стань моей смертью
стань моим страхом
чтоб задыхаясь на плаху
чтоб на прощанье не плакать
чтоб четыре крыла по периметру неба
чтоб кричали тела горячо и нелепо
чтобы высохшим ртом по периметру пульса
не целуйся
чтоб четыре крыла по периметру неба
чтоб кричали тела горячо и нелепо
чтоб четыре крыла по периметру неба
чтоб кричали тела горячо и нелепо
чтобы высохшим ртом по периметру пульса
не целуйся
стань моей птицей
стань моей птицей
Become My Bird
Diana Arbenina, from “Bonny & Clyde” (2007)
Become my bird
Become my bird
So you can be repeated in me
So you can be repeated in me
Become my blood
Become my wounds
So when gasping - on the scaffold
So no crying at farewell
So four wings - the perimeter of sky
So the bodies shall scream, hotly and absurdly
So the dry mouth won’t kiss
the perimeter of pulse
Become my little one
Become my son
So it won’t grow cold inside me
So it won’t grow cold inside me
Become my death
Become my fear
So when gasping - on the scaffold
So no crying at farewell
So four wings on the perimeter of sky
So the bodies shall scream, hotly and absurdly
So the dry mouth won’t kiss
the perimeter of pulse
So four wings - the perimeter of sky
So the bodies shall scream, hotly and absurdly
So four wings - the perimeter of sky
So the bodies shall scream, hotly and absurdly
So the dry mouth won’t kiss
the perimeter of pulse
Become my bird
Become my bird
I've been reading a lot of design blogs, and got inspired by these people featured on one of them last week - SunMoonLake quilts. They recycle sweaters into throws. So I thought - how hard can this be?
Examples of blankets they've made:
They sell the larger ones for $900. It's a racket.
I am vaguely OCD. I like organizing things. I like arranging things by type and colour. I like cutting things into strips and sewing them back together. So I set to work. Here's what I produced:
I am embarrassed.
This is a classic example of the Russian phrase "The first crepe came out in a ball."
The phrase literally refers to making crepes in a cast iron skillet - you have to have it at just the right temperature, with just the right amount of butter greasing it. 10 times out of 10, the first crepe you pour into the skillet will absorb the excess grease, and get scrambled and burnt/undercooked.
Things I learned from my weekend of crafting:
1. I will make more of these throws. I like it.
2. They are cashmere. EVERYONE likes cashmere.
3. They are soft and warm. Unless you live in Florida, you can use one.
4. With cost of materials and my time estimated at $25/hr, these should NOT cost $900.
5. I might sell these on Etsy.
6. I am not wild about the patchwork aspect of this particular quilt. I will stick to stripes only.
7. Knits are a bitch to sew.
8. The strips must be completely STRAIGHT, with not even a hint of bias.
9. That last sentence could be misinterpreted.
10. I need to obtain better/more lightweight fabric for backing.
11. I need to cut the strips with a rotary cutter and a crafting ruler. As I do not possess either item, I must make the cuts at work.
12. That whole contrasting stitch thing that the online people used and the design bloggers raved about looks like crap on mine, because my stitches were uneven, since knits are a bitch to sew. I will stick to thread colour that blends with the quilt, thank you. In this case, it should have been pink/mauve of some variety. I only had brown. MUST buy more thread.
13. I watched a whole season of Dexter while working on these. Finally, a way to watch TV and NOT feel like I am wasting time.
No, I am not moving. But anywhere between 20,000 and 50,000 students did yesterday and the day before.
For those of you not familiar with Boston, the entire city operates on the academic year. That also means that all leases begin on Sept 1st. Couple that with large numbers of freshmen moving into the city each year, a Red Sox game, and Labor Day weekend, and you've got yourself a giant clusterfuck.
This was the scene in front of my building yesterday:
Where those trucks are parked is National Parkland.
On this next picture, what you have to understand is that the lane of traffic from the guy in car forward is "created" curbside parking that takes up a lane of the four-lane street. And the rest of those cars - game traffic.
And a better angle on the U-Hauls:
It was hard to photograph trucks, because people thought I was going to report them somewhere or something, and started yelling at me.
When we were unlucky to move on this same weekend last year, we had to fight for double-parked spots with other people in the street. It was disgusting. There were people carrying possessions across four lanes of traffic.
Click here to see what happens EVERY summer because somebody doesn't understand the concept of 10' clearance. It's a very entertaining slide show.
I hate Sept 1st.
