plenty of blogging time now

Back home from the Big Smoke and excited to see Krakow green and warm. I left when it was dreary with no leaves in sight. It is truly amazing how quickly greenery sprouts from buds on branches. The green at the moment is almost fluro. Judging from my reaction last year, I know that May will again be my favourite month. I have spent the last few days donning summer dresses and riding my bike. Unfortunately where we live now, there are hills, which seem more like mountains to my Ukrainian gear-less treasure. I am battling on, looking forward to calves of steel. Also the roof of our apartment block has proved to be a source of joy. It is flat enough to lie on and I have been making trips up there for a spot of sunbathing. Do not scoff. European winter white dermis is disgusting. Besides, there’s no ozone hole. Yet. As much as I enjoyed New York (thank you Jules for being my super cyber guide and NYC companion in spirit!), as soon as I got back Michal and I hit the mountains. There was still snow at the top of Babia Gora (Old Hag Mountain) and it was nice to breathe air not infested by the putrid smell of surprisingly tasty Yankee hot dogs (throughout the week I consumed about 4).

trying out my new boots. no blisters. ugly but noice.

Sunday was spent in a small town called Wislica. There is nothing there but for a 13^th Century church and some sculptures of saints, queens and kings carved out of trees that nannas like to visit and pray at. We just ate ice cream and watched the nannas.

michal, tukan, titka, mat

the original handicap mobile. you don't even need legs!
cooler than any vespa

After arriving from the States on the Monday, I went to work on the Tuesday and handed in my official resignation. Work at the firm has bothered me for a long time and I have whined about it for months. The trip was the clincher. Maybe it was the only place where I experienced the clashing of the cultures on a complete scale whilst in Poland. Or maybe private practice sucks fat balls. So now I am unemployed and being financially supported by the hubby. It is not doing wonders to my ego but I am thankful to Michal that I could leave without having to wait until ‘something else’ came up.

trust the stranger

This tale is not intended to elude corn nor pukedom. A dude was travelling alone in his car on a Saturday night to visit his parents. Some 100 ks from Krakow, at dusk, he saw two hitchhikers, a guy and a girl, waving down cars with their backpacks perched against a tree. With a screech of the tires the dude stopped his car, reversed and picked up the couple. They turned out to be Estonian, hitchhiking their way back home after spending a backpacking holiday in Croatia. Five days on the road they were trying to make their way to Warsaw by the night in question. The driver attempted to speak to them in Russian. It turned out that the first year and fourth year uni students were much more comfortable with English. They chatted for some 60 ks, before the driver announced he would be turning off the main highway making his way to his parents place. Night had set in, and the driver suggested he would drop the couple off at a nearby motel. The motel was booked out. The Estonians, in the middle of nowhere started to look anxious. The dude then said he would drive them to a hotel that he knew of at the other end of town. Once the three entered into what looked like an unaffordable harbouring for the two budget travellers (who at this stage started to display signs of distress at the situation), the driver dude pulled out his wallet and paid for their accommodation plus breakfast. Gobsmacked the hitchhikers hugged the driver before they said their goodbyes and the driver left. After years of being at the receiving end of hitchhiking hospitality, the driver knew that what goes around comes around.

It is excellent to be back home in the arms of my driver dude.

murray and the madman

saw the filming of sesame street in washington square.
apparently that's murray

I’m not sure what you have been hearing about the Virginia Tech Massacre in your respective homes, but you can well imagine the Cho bombardment in the media here. Now, you’d think there would be plenty of gun law issues being raised at this time and possible calls for stringent gun control. Well, you’d be wrong. What has been typical is the debate about ‘the system’ and whether the mental institutions did enough, whether the police did enough, whether the university did enough in dealing with a student who had obvious psychological issues. No one yet has talked about the fact that clearly the American society is incapable of social interrelations and face to face communication. The parents spring to mind, as do the two bloody dip shit roommates who lived with the psycho plus all the idiot students who failed to deal with the problem like normal people do! Sheesh.

On a brighter note today I took the advice of Liam and hung out in Washington Square in Greenwich Village. I loved it. Especially the dog runs (special fenced in areas, not dissimilar to kids play pens, where owners let their puppies run around together, chase, attempt to hump, and play before the owners return them to their handbags and carry home ala Hilton). Watching the mutts was hilarious. Not as hilarious though as the proud owners sitting and pretending they were watching their grandkids. The dog culture is astounding in NYC as it exemplifies the dog as the ultimate accessory. It was also sausage dog day hence the trendoids came out with their elongated pooches.

my fave was the ultra hot lassie
in the blue number

The day was also spent on errands. I scoffed a cupcake for Jodie from the Magnolia Bakery (nice but too much icing) on Bleecker Street and had a slice of floppy pizza for Marta. This stuff was the food of every American telly teenage slumber party with Marta and I watching in envy holding our own sad stiff excuses from Pizza Hut, dreaming of the time when we too could sink our teeth into the ultimate pizza flop. The dream burst today, resulting in a monthly intake of oily cheese on the one slice.

the upper roof of my mouth was left scratchy

tasty but half the icing was removed with my index finger

wheyz da tee'shird section huh?

easter display in front of the rockefeller centre

Frigg. If I ever come back as anything or anyone in a future life I want to be a gay man in New York. These dudes exude sharpness of the cut fabric like no other. They are walking hot machines oozing class and elegance, way beyond the trendoidness of their Oxford Street counterparts. I have never seen so many attractive men flawlessly dressed at the one time. Ever. Needless to say this city rocks. Fortunately enough I have not drowned in the flash flood that occurred here on Monday nor did I happen to fly unexpectedly to Virginia Tech yesterday, hence I am alive. I have already blown more than half my budget on hiking boots, Chuck Taylors (so I can be like them) and a frightening amount of comic books. It is amazing how quickly the shopping culture eats you alive here. For the last two days I have been feeling like a crazy person convincing myself that I need to buy shit, and then telling myself out loud that I am being a knob. I have however, stayed way away from the God awful grot that is Starbucks. Except for emergency urination requirements. My biggest surprise occurred today when I accidentally walked into what turned out to be a wadyaniggamudda-sup-y'all shop, where a shopper mistook me for a person that worked there, hence a street wise ass crackin' no bullshit Yank. Crap. I was trying to go for a 'European' look. Aside from retail experiences I have done proper stuff too. Like eating a chili dog from a hot dog stand. The Brooklyn Bridge at 10pm tonight was brilliant. And the crazy black guy on the Subway yelling that we're all equal coming out of the one womb like him out of his mother's pussy, made me grin with excitement at the authenticity of the moment.

Maybe it is the number of wogs here or maybe the unconscious longing to be living in a metropolis again, but New York has made me sentimental about Sydney and what I have left behind. Of course it is a behemoth beast and I have only but whiffed its underpit, but somehow New York has a feel of the familiar about it. As I tucked into a steamed pork bun today breathing in the familiar smell of Chinatown, I fondly recalled the words of my Public Law lecturer Drew Fraser "multiculturalism is the death of a city's own identity". Face value at this stage thanks.

I am sending this post from the NYC Public Library, the most impressive library on my world library tour list.

lot flight

Sitting on the Lot ("Flight") flight. Have one spare seat next to me, which means I can spread my limbs somewhat and attempt to have a nap. Nice. I have now drunken two bottles of wine (Spanish. The only Polish branded flight food has been the butter - very good), eaten a shithouse chicken pasta, avoided thinking about the artificial components of my meal and have been entertained by the self proclaimed chatterbox babcia sitting one seat away from me. She's tops, about 70 and visiting her grandsons. It's her fourth trip to NYC. Last time she took over bottles of vodka and Polish Eagle t-shirts. This time she is taking bottles of vodka and registration number plates for her grandson Greg who is an avid collector. They're brand new too. Not rusty crappy ones like expected. She thinks Washington DC is a pile of uninteresting rubbish and the White House not as good as the Polish Presidential Palace (??). Apparently the Cathedral in NY is not worth seeing although there is a Holy Mary painting hung by a Polish painter. Hmm. Will I make a trip to see it? Doubt it. Apart from Manhattan the rest of New York is like Poland, i.e. three storey houses and gardens. And here I was thinking that was only the case of the Sydney western suburbs minus the three storey bit. She’s going to a christening of her great grand kid and staying on for two months, but isn’t all that worried because she has excellent neighbours who will water her plants and pick up her pension cheque from the post office. The in-flight movie is the Ben Stiller Night at the Museum one. There are no individual video screens and the passengers have to put up with the old communal system of one screen at the end of the alley. I will not be able to see shit. Doesn't matter. Apparently the only valid element in a Lot flight is the availability of grog. No shit. I can slowly see the passengers getting happy and relaxed. They must do with wine, whiskey and beer though. Vodka has long been banned, but the tomato juice remains.

fun days ahead

The tough homosexuals are being put to work again in Krakow. Looks like next weekend they will be holding a "culture of toleration" festival not only to convince the skinheads and Christian fundamental freaks that they are part of Krakow, but to educate the average Pole that no, the country does not hold a 100 per cent hetero rate. It would all be fine and seemingly normal if it wasn't for the fact that the All Polish Youth, an extremist right nationalist youth group (licking the balls of the League of Polish Family Party - currently part of the ruling coalition) - with a huge Catholic national ideology - is scheduling to host a counterattack march on the same weekend. Last time one was held in Krakow, it was pandemonium. Michal attended in support of the peaceful march of the gays and lesbians and witnessed how the Polish Jugend skins broke in and began to cause havoc. This time the Jugend kids are promising it will all be peaceful and non-violent. Doubt it. But what is interesting is the official poster war that is happening across the city. Free speech still exists and there is no talk of minority group rule. Yet.

Festival for cultural toleration. March with us on the 19th of April 2007

Stop propagating homosexuals in Krakow. Stop sexual deviation
And then various paragraphs about the sin of sodomy and whether we want that to be a symbol of Krakow, homosexual excess, impudent homosexual manifestations etc etc.

Now I am off to bed. Tomorrow I fly to New York. Work is sending me there for one week. Meeting clients. Whatever. I'm just peeing in excitement to be going to the Big Apple!! Never been. Will take the laptop and try to post some pics.

what bead shop?

fossil snails

Went to the mineral fair today. Not entirely for the love of the rock (although the snail fossils were quite good), but because this is the place you want to be when you want to score some cool beads and shiny polished silver. Spent over 100 bucks on coral, lava and bronze. Good deal really. There is not one single bead shop in town, so bead fans order their goodies either online or frequent these fairs and stock up on clasps, roundels, spacers, hooks and wires. Also if you happen to be a precious gem collector you can make deals with the gem merchants who use those tiny scales to weigh their goods brought all the way over from Madagascar. And here I was thinking, skewed by days in criminal trials, those scales were only good for dope.