I was rather busy the last weeks and didn't post anything, but today I'm going to write something which may help (in a way) to prevent the road accidents on our streets.
I was walking (innocent like an angel), thinking nothing. Just remembered the last post from my friend which contained a lot of pleasant words and feelings, and a happy smile (I would think that was a rather stupid happy smile) spread across my face.
I had to cross the road, so I'd stopped and turned my head, still smiling, to check all clear and suddenly locked my eyes with a smart guy on the motorbike who also stopped and turned his head to check his way on the crossroad. Before I'd changed face, he lost his balance and fell down from the bike (actually, together with his heavy bike) still looking in my eyes and smiling as well!
Jesus Christ, that was so funny!
However, it's not safe to stare at girls around when driving. I think :)
26.9.06
Life is fair after all...
Sunny day, light breeze, nice mood… We are walking down the street with Ksusha, chatting and smiling and obviously being very happy after visiting a couple of trendy shops. The day couldn’t be better unless…
Just when we passed a coffee shop where a group of lazy young Cypriots sat slumped in the comfortable armchairs, talking, the wind blew stronger and my skirt (you know, that type of “one button only”) flew open instantly making the conversation at the coffee shop stop and five pairs of sunglasses gaze at us.
“Mum, c’mon, they saw everything” – my daughter’s voice was sarcastic, - “even the bruise up there”.
While I was trying to figure out why I would have a bruise up there, one of the guys – whom I’d never seen before – leaped up from the chair and ran towards us with a broad smile and his hands opened for a hug.
“Hum, a stranger… It looks like he knows Ksusha”, - I thought seeing her smiling to him, but then he took my hand and kissed it passionately.
“Hello, how are you?” – he was so happy to see us (her? me?) that I’d started feeling sort of, OK, stupid?
Maybe that was a rather straightforward way to make a conversation with two beautiful girls (one of them in a school uniform, by the way)? Am I missing something? And why the hell I have that bruise?!
Thank God, in a minute we remembered that he was the guy who fixed a broken door lock at my office two months ago. Such a memory, ha? And such an after-service support!
Of course we had been invited to have a cup of coffee etc. but left with our most charming smiles and promises about “the other day”.
And then Ksusha told me indignantly: “Mum, it’s unfair. You were with ME! Why was he so happy to see YOU?!”
“O, my poor girl,” – I was going to say, - “life is unfair sometimes…” but suddenly a better thought had sparkled in my head: “Life is fair, because this will be my rrrevennnge for that stupid math and those stupid equations which spoiled my weekend and made me feel an idiot”.
We forgot the guy and went on with our nice time together, one of us just a little bit happier than five minutes ago.
Just when we passed a coffee shop where a group of lazy young Cypriots sat slumped in the comfortable armchairs, talking, the wind blew stronger and my skirt (you know, that type of “one button only”) flew open instantly making the conversation at the coffee shop stop and five pairs of sunglasses gaze at us.
“Mum, c’mon, they saw everything” – my daughter’s voice was sarcastic, - “even the bruise up there”.
While I was trying to figure out why I would have a bruise up there, one of the guys – whom I’d never seen before – leaped up from the chair and ran towards us with a broad smile and his hands opened for a hug.
“Hum, a stranger… It looks like he knows Ksusha”, - I thought seeing her smiling to him, but then he took my hand and kissed it passionately.
“Hello, how are you?” – he was so happy to see us (her? me?) that I’d started feeling sort of, OK, stupid?
Maybe that was a rather straightforward way to make a conversation with two beautiful girls (one of them in a school uniform, by the way)? Am I missing something? And why the hell I have that bruise?!
Thank God, in a minute we remembered that he was the guy who fixed a broken door lock at my office two months ago. Such a memory, ha? And such an after-service support!
Of course we had been invited to have a cup of coffee etc. but left with our most charming smiles and promises about “the other day”.
And then Ksusha told me indignantly: “Mum, it’s unfair. You were with ME! Why was he so happy to see YOU?!”
“O, my poor girl,” – I was going to say, - “life is unfair sometimes…” but suddenly a better thought had sparkled in my head: “Life is fair, because this will be my rrrevennnge for that stupid math and those stupid equations which spoiled my weekend and made me feel an idiot”.
We forgot the guy and went on with our nice time together, one of us just a little bit happier than five minutes ago.
11.9.06
Kids...
This should happen sooner or later…
Sunday noon. I’m sitting slump in the sofa, enjoying fresh fruit and lazy reading, the air conditioner softly murmuring somewhere in the distance… Time is passing slowly and without any purpose… Paradise…
Who said without a purpose? My daughter’s voice brought me back to the REAL life instantly: “Mum, you said you were excellent in math at school. Please have a look; I can’t get these equations simplified.”
And she produced a study book of Heinemann Modular Mathematics where the most frightening equations were carefully outlined for beloved and clever Mum’s explanations…
She made my day.
Most of that stuff was easy for me, but then there were a couple of equations I couldn’t make to the answer given at the end of the book (yes, I have to confess that I’d consulted with the answers under a limp excuse that “I don’t want to confuse you and give you the information you shouldn’t have at THIS level” – how clever of me, ha? And very “persuasive”!)
So, after 15 minutes of struggling with equations to get those stupid answers, and being unable to get them, Ksusha said: “It’s OK. I will ask the teacher ‘morrow”. I felt that I had never in my life been put in a bigger disgrace than this one. But what was worse is that after Ksusha left with her horrendous study book and cunning smile on her face, I couldn’t get back that wonderful feeling that “time is passing slowly…” (see above).
Needless to say that after a few minutes of trying to concentrate on the book I’d read 30 minutes before, I found a piece of paper and made heavy weather of those stupid equations till I’d got the correct answers (bloody answers, to be precise).
So, if somebody is bored with life and needs an external stimulator, this is a perfect recipe: get kids, love them and bother with their troubles and problems – and you will have a quality time 24/7.
Sunday noon. I’m sitting slump in the sofa, enjoying fresh fruit and lazy reading, the air conditioner softly murmuring somewhere in the distance… Time is passing slowly and without any purpose… Paradise…
Who said without a purpose? My daughter’s voice brought me back to the REAL life instantly: “Mum, you said you were excellent in math at school. Please have a look; I can’t get these equations simplified.”
And she produced a study book of Heinemann Modular Mathematics where the most frightening equations were carefully outlined for beloved and clever Mum’s explanations…
She made my day.
Most of that stuff was easy for me, but then there were a couple of equations I couldn’t make to the answer given at the end of the book (yes, I have to confess that I’d consulted with the answers under a limp excuse that “I don’t want to confuse you and give you the information you shouldn’t have at THIS level” – how clever of me, ha? And very “persuasive”!)
So, after 15 minutes of struggling with equations to get those stupid answers, and being unable to get them, Ksusha said: “It’s OK. I will ask the teacher ‘morrow”. I felt that I had never in my life been put in a bigger disgrace than this one. But what was worse is that after Ksusha left with her horrendous study book and cunning smile on her face, I couldn’t get back that wonderful feeling that “time is passing slowly…” (see above).
Needless to say that after a few minutes of trying to concentrate on the book I’d read 30 minutes before, I found a piece of paper and made heavy weather of those stupid equations till I’d got the correct answers (bloody answers, to be precise).
So, if somebody is bored with life and needs an external stimulator, this is a perfect recipe: get kids, love them and bother with their troubles and problems – and you will have a quality time 24/7.
3.9.06
I broke a password!
Just to share my great experience in code-breaking.
I wanted to replace MS Express by MS Outlook and asked my good friend, coincidentally a very clever and skilled IT expert, to help me with it.
Of course, that was very easy for him ...until the time came to enter the e-mail password. I didn't know it, the guy who had set it several months ago was out ot reach.
So, we had two options: either wait until I get in touch with that guy or... Actually, with an IT profi by my side the only decent option was to break through.
Quite a lot of programs which promised to disclose the 12-asterisk stuff had been downloaded from Google. But none of them really worked. Digital fortress held strong. I went down to the kiosk to buy more sigarettes...
Eventually Alexander found a program which managed to reveal three first symbols of the password. He said: "No, this is not good, it shows only three letters. Let's go on to find another one". And THEN my glorious moment came, when I suggested: "Let's delete these three letters and try again then, and the program will show us the other three first letters - and so on". "No, it won't work", replied Sasha but agreed to try. And you know what? It worked! We'd read the password 4 x 3 letters and finished with my e-mail within a minute.
So, dear Sasha and all IT guys! After all, dumb users also have brains, and they work some times.
I wanted to replace MS Express by MS Outlook and asked my good friend, coincidentally a very clever and skilled IT expert, to help me with it.
Of course, that was very easy for him ...until the time came to enter the e-mail password. I didn't know it, the guy who had set it several months ago was out ot reach.
So, we had two options: either wait until I get in touch with that guy or... Actually, with an IT profi by my side the only decent option was to break through.
Quite a lot of programs which promised to disclose the 12-asterisk stuff had been downloaded from Google. But none of them really worked. Digital fortress held strong. I went down to the kiosk to buy more sigarettes...
Eventually Alexander found a program which managed to reveal three first symbols of the password. He said: "No, this is not good, it shows only three letters. Let's go on to find another one". And THEN my glorious moment came, when I suggested: "Let's delete these three letters and try again then, and the program will show us the other three first letters - and so on". "No, it won't work", replied Sasha but agreed to try. And you know what? It worked! We'd read the password 4 x 3 letters and finished with my e-mail within a minute.
So, dear Sasha and all IT guys! After all, dumb users also have brains, and they work some times.
18.8.06
I wish THIS anti-terror war never ends
People all over the world and, particularly, in the UK and USA get paranoid about the resent issue at British Airports and the problem of security (as if it hadn't existed before!).
I had been one of those "victims" of the excessive measures applied at Luton Airport on the 14th of August.
Yes, we had not been allowed (by mistake, as we found later) to have a newspaper and a book in our see-through plastic bag until we pass security check-up, so we put it in the bag and had been "forced" to buy a couple of other books in the after-checkup area. Very interesting books, by the way, and I'm glad that bought them spending some extra money which would be otherwise spent on some less valuable stuff.
Yes, my precious and rather expensive lipstick had been confiscated due to the fact that it was made using liquid materials. I suggested to put it on my lips in front of them or even bite a piece, but three officers handling this issue acted against it in a united front. But they did not just take a lipstick and throw it in the bin (as the one familiar with other airports' securities might expect,) but spent quite a time to comfort me and persuade that it's not because they want to harm me - just they have their orders. I understood.
But look, guys, the order, cleanness and peaceful quiteness of the Luton Airport were amazing.
People enjoyed a longer stay by having snacks and proper English breakfast in cafes, they red papers and books, neetly queued and exchanged jokes like the last resort of terrorists is that the passengers are still allowed to wear pants in the plane.
If this is a feature of the war against terror, I vote for it to never finish.
Order always makes people good.
I had been one of those "victims" of the excessive measures applied at Luton Airport on the 14th of August.
Yes, we had not been allowed (by mistake, as we found later) to have a newspaper and a book in our see-through plastic bag until we pass security check-up, so we put it in the bag and had been "forced" to buy a couple of other books in the after-checkup area. Very interesting books, by the way, and I'm glad that bought them spending some extra money which would be otherwise spent on some less valuable stuff.
Yes, my precious and rather expensive lipstick had been confiscated due to the fact that it was made using liquid materials. I suggested to put it on my lips in front of them or even bite a piece, but three officers handling this issue acted against it in a united front. But they did not just take a lipstick and throw it in the bin (as the one familiar with other airports' securities might expect,) but spent quite a time to comfort me and persuade that it's not because they want to harm me - just they have their orders. I understood.
But look, guys, the order, cleanness and peaceful quiteness of the Luton Airport were amazing.
People enjoyed a longer stay by having snacks and proper English breakfast in cafes, they red papers and books, neetly queued and exchanged jokes like the last resort of terrorists is that the passengers are still allowed to wear pants in the plane.
If this is a feature of the war against terror, I vote for it to never finish.
Order always makes people good.
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