I’m Sorry, Tiffany/Ugg/Victoria’s Secret, It Just Won’t Work Between Us

How often have I seen something inexplicably amazing in an on-line shop that costs a half of what it does in a Moscow retail outlet, selected it and clicked: “Order”, only to find that, while they deliver these fantastic woolly shoes/bracelet/polar bear claw/etc. even to Honduras (whatever for), Russia is, once again, NOT on the list.

            This is so annoying that I can’t even rant about it properly. But that doesn’t mean I won’t make the effort. I’m not going to go into detail on the workings of the Russian post and all the ridiculous rules and regulations that make it that much more difficult for foreign shop-owners to cooperate with us.

            But I am going to say that

this is outrageous. It’s like the iron curtain never fell. We have to wait up to 6 months for a simple postcard, and God forbid anyone tries to order anything on Ebay – expect your delivery in a year or two. I may be exaggerating a little, but if you ever tried to deal with our post, you get what I mean.

            And there’s the service in the post-offices to talk about. In one of the previous posts in this blog I wrote about the Scary Lady Syndrome. Remember: the women who work in the offices of Pochta Rossii (the federate mail service) are, each of them, the queen bees of all the scary ladies.

They are mean, bitter and always SO ANGRY at you, their job, the whole world and everything that’s in it. Don’t look them in the eye, speak clearly, or, rather, don’t speak at all, just fill out your paperwork correctly (no-one cares that there’s not a single example of how to do that on the web or in the office – that’s your problem) and give it to them without making any sudden movements. Then, and only then, may you come out of there with your head still resting on your shoulders. And, if you’ve been blessed by Zeus and Odin, with your letter/package in your hands.

Using other delivery services helps, if only a little – they have decent employees who smile at you and speak in soft, polite voices. But THEY have to deal with the federal post instead of you, and that explains why they charge you that s-load of money for their services. And, again, due to their working through the federal post system, things still don’t get delivered any faster.

 

I have no solution for the problem, and this isn’t a motivational post, just a straight-up rant, it’s just here to let out the AAAAARGH I feel when desperately wanting to buy something that costs 2 times less in Europe, US, Asia – basically, all over the world - but not being able to do that because of the idiotic import policy of my country. If you’re with me, share and rant on, may be, someday, it’ll somehow force this situation to change.

The Scary Lady Syndrome

As a guide, I often show foreigners around Moscow. Along with telling them what they want to know about the city's history (although, to be honest, I soon end up answering questions about Putin, The Pussycat Dolls and the Anti-homosexual law), I listen to them talk about their impressions from my beloved country. And, sadly, the thing that seems to imprint itself in their memories the strongest is Russia's Scary Lady Syndrome.

Let me explain. For some reason, in almost every establishment there is a really scary middle-aged woman running the whole thing. She is mean, she is loud, she is usually ugly, and, if your well-being depends on her in any way, she will own you until you cry. She's a lot like a dementor - sucking all the happiness out of you, making you believe for a moment that you are the dumbest person in the world.

The question is: where do they come from? What I mean is, in the Soviet Union times these women were simply appointed on these positions as most suitable candidates (strictness and a deadly glance were appreciated back than), but by now most employers have realized that it's best to make their customers happy, not miserable, and try to hire adequate, friendly people. Even in governmentally funded institutions, surprisingly enough.

But here comes a shocker: somehow, those pretty young girls that are now hired as secretaries, train attendants, low-level governmental officials turn into scary ladies over time. Time passes, they don't move up the career ladder, or, if they do, that happens with great difficulty, so they want to enjoy what little power over others they have as much as possible, so, eventually, they turn into the monsters we all fear and hate.

And it's really sad, because they are the ones people arriving to Russia have to deal with the most, and the fact that they are what they are ruins the foreigners' impression of our country. To be honest, it ruins my impression of our country. We can't expect anyone to want to travel around Russia while these women are there to spoil the fun. We either have to turn them into some kind of attraction or make their lives a little more tolerable.

Or, 30-50 years from now, we'll end up staring at THIS at every turn.

To sleep, perchance, to…

No, just sleep for me, please.

How many times have you found yourself barely standing, trembling and feeling infinitely miserable, thinking…I’ll go to bed as soon as I get home. Ha-ha. I don’t mean to be mean, after all, I have the same problem, but, still. Why do we have such a huge problem with finding enough time to sleep?

By the time you get home, you’re usually pretty much awake, and after you’ve eaten, you need to do all sorts of things, like check your VK or Facebook account (or both), read your mail, work, VK or Facebook again, tweet something, eat some more, try to workout, fail, go back to VK or Facebook, and so on, so forth, until you realize that it’s 3:00 in the morning, and you’re supposed to be getting up in three hours.

 

So, then you think: I can’t fall asleep now, I won’t be able to wake up! So you make up your mind to stay awake. And THE VERY moment that thought enters your head, BAM! Your eyelids start drooping, your head feels heavy, and you decide to just sit back on the couch (or your bed) for a second, and may be close your eyes just for a minute, and then…it’s 9:00 AM, and you’re an hour late.

                                                                                           

But even if you’re lucky enough to react to the sound of alarm, you immediately curse your luck, because, and I’m sure that most of you will agree with me, waking up after having had just two or three hours of sleep. Is. Horrible. Whatever plans or thoughts you might have had regarding this day, they’re gone. There is no way that you’re doing morning yoga. A big, healthy breakfast or 30 extra minutes of sleep? Hm…what kind of question is that?! Sleep! Dressing nice? Applying make-up? (Guys – hair product)?

NO. YOU'RE CHOOSING. SLEEP.

So…is there a way out? Sure. There’s always a way out. I could tell you that you should plan your day, drink some herbal tea that will help you relax, delete your FB profile…but the ONLY real solution to the problem is to make yourself so tired during the day that by 9:00 PM you will fall snoring the moment you reach your bed, or whichever horizontal surface it is that you usually sleep on. So my advice to you (and myself) is:

If you want to get enough sleep – make yourself DO STUFF.

What DO We Talk About?

People have always loved to talk. It was that desire to share one’s thoughts and experience that lead to the appearance of speech. These days, it’s very easy to socialize. There are no rigid frames to communication, one can contact practically anybody, tell the whole world, what the day was like. At least, the part of the world that’s aware of the internet and Twitter.

You’d think, what endless opportunities that gives us for creativity, for ideas, for finding like-minded people. But, no. I mean, there are, of course, all t

hose things, but in order to get to them, you have to get through such enormous amounts of junk and drivel, that your fingers, already raise above the keyboard, fall hopelessly.

That is a very sad paradox: while getting access to masses of information, what 90% of users actually take are soppy phrases for status-updates, one thousand and one tutorial for making your eyes (already drooping with make-up) even prettier, endless pictures of kitiies/doggies/babies/expensive cars and, of course, a right to illiteracy.

On this last point I could talk for ages, but, to be honest, I don’t really want to, because I feel squeamish. I love Russian, I love English, I don’t mind new words and phrases entering these languages, but I will never understand those native speakers who allow themselves to distort their mothertongue, excusing themselves by the fact that: “It’s the Web, everyone does that here!”

That’s one problem. Now, let’s turn to internet-communities. It’s always a pleasure to see like-minded people burning with the same ideas or just enjoing similar activities get together to share impressions, news or simply talk to each other. Alas, it’s not all that nice and pretty.

I don’t mean the haters, whose point of life is taunting the people on the net who can’t get to them. It’s the most devoted members of said communities who bother me. In a while, some ofr. them turn into fans. And then – into fanatics. After that, talking to them is near to impossible. Are you prepared to talk about cars 24/7? You’re boring. You told a girl who wants to weigh 75 pounds to stop torturing herself and eat something? You’re jealous and know nothing about beauty. You didn’t denounce ever eating meat after seeing footage from a slaugherhouse? You’re a corpse-eating  freak, burn in hell!

Why? Because their initial narrow-mindedness gets even worse because of constantly talking about one topic only, so, eventually, any deviation from the course they’ve taken is considered a crime that deserves a punishment as severe as quartering, along with nail-pulling strangling.

And, of course, there’s always the herd instinct. Spending too much time with a bunch of people, mulling over the same thing time and again, anyone can get caught up in the craziness. There’s no place for tolerance – the real kind – not the one gets everyone squirming once a touchy subject like sexual minorities or racie is as much as brushed during a conversation.

And we do need patience. Respect for other people’s opinions needs to be cultivated in every single person. That way, many of today’s problems would just go away on their own.

In the end, no one can tell you, what and how to talk about. But, please, let’s not be primitive. We mustn’t forget that speech is a gift that only humanity has been granted with. Don’t just walk all over it.

You're so smoking...urgh!

So much is going on…people are flying into space, scientists are doing wonders with stem cells, Breaking Bad and Dexter are over…civilization seems to be at its peak. Well, almost.

Because, while the cure for cancer and the sniffles is just around the corner, when you leave any building in Moscow and head into the city, there they are: the smokers. Standing there, huffing and puffing their lungs away. And maybe it’s just me, but it seems that there’s more and more of them every day.

Honestly, I can see why people smoked tobacco in the 15^th century – it was a “thing” back then, it was new, and there was pretty much nothing else to do. Well, except die or discover something. Then, through the ages, cigarettes and cigars have been altering their status – at first, being something that only the rich could afford, then a symbol of emancipation for women, then just a stress-reliever that allowed one to meditate while picturing his or her life in the ringlets of smoke.

But, seriously. And I mean, SERIOUSLY. How dumb do you have to be to start smoking in the 21^st century? Everybody knows how bad it is for you! You smell disgusting, your teeth look horrible, you spit…everywhere! I’m not even going to say anything about the money you’re literally burning through.

The whole world is fixated on being healthy and beautiful. And Russia has 22-yearolds beginning to smoke! I understand the elderly who just can’t give up this habit, but the young people? What is that about? The government passes new laws, limiting the number of places where you can do that, but do I see a policeman writing out a ticket for smoking at the bus station? No. That means, the laws aren’t working. DUH.

 So what might be the reason? Some say, it’s the stress. “Oh, my teacher is so mean to me, I’m so stressed out, I need a smoke”. Oh, really? You want that teacher to see you smoking outside and treat you like even more of a loser? Then, by all means, go ahead.

For others, it’s the lyrical beauty of the visualised air leaving their lungs, only to dissapear, leaving a faint smell…you know, the touchy-feely types. Guys. No. Just…no. And this smell…not that faint. Go, paint something. Or listen to some music. Smoking hasn’t been associated with creativity in ages.

Being cool. It is NOT cool, how old are you, honestly? Don’t tell me about peer pressure, the smokers are usually loners, and you know, why? Because it is not cool!

Your parents smoke. A pretty legitimate reason, I have to admit, but seeing that you are a rebel in everything else that you do, why single smoking out?

This leaves us with one reason alone. Adolescents and young adults smoke because they have nothing else to do. Even if they have a busy schedual and live a full life. If they smoke – they’re not busy enough. They still have time to stand around doing nothing. Smoking is just there to give them a feeling of importance.

So, smokers, this part is really for you. Nobody can make you quit. It’s up to you. But, girls, no matter how hot you look, most guys that are worth dating will not even come up to talk to you. Guys, no matter how intelligent and sharp you are, girls who don’t smoke (and are, therefore, more healthy and good-looking than their burned-out rivals) are really sensitive to the smell of fumes you produce. Not saying how much this habit limits your job opportunities.

Like I said, it’s up to you. But please, stop. Seriously. Stop.

A Perfect Body

Everyone wants to be skinny and fit. And I'm no different, that's why sometimes I browse the pictures of pretty girls posing with their perfect abs, fantastic legs and no head, since their iPhone cameras can only fit their immaculate bodies into the picture.

You flick through the picks, and imagine yourself walking around your house half-naked, watching yourself in the mirror, enjoying every movement of your amazing, slim figure. You even figure that you wouldn't want to wear any clothes at all if you looked like that.

And it's not that you're fat - no, you look pretty good, but you're not perfect. So you think that you're not good enough, in spite of everybody around telling you that you're fine. Even when you start believing that, one glimpse at a ripped brunette in a sports bra that barely fits her 4th size makes you feel like a cow. (No offence to cows - they're beautiful creatures. Women who actually look like them usually aren't).

So you start looking for new ways to get fit. Because you already work out a couple of times a week and eat healthy, but you are still far from what the picture-girls look like. And while you're looking, you usually find something like this:

• 8:00 - Wake up, drink a glass of water with lemon, do the morning work-out
• 9:00 - Have a big, healthy breakfast
• 12:00 - Do the second work-out
• 13:00 - Have a light lunch
• 14:00 - Have a snack
• 16:00 - Do the third work-out
• 17:00 - Have an early supper
• 19:00 - Do the final work-out for the day, follow with a protein shake
• 21:00 - Go to bed

I am exaggerating a bit, of course, but, still, WTF? How on Earth is a normal human being who works for a living/studies to be able to start working for a living supposed to keep up this lifestyle? Here's my average schedule for a weekday:

• 5:30 - Wake up. Cry, fall back asleep.
• 6:00 - Actually get up from the bed, understanding that it's too late to have a decent breakfast
• 6:30 - Dash out of the house, cram yourself into the public transport system (which has started working half an hour ago, but is already crowded with masses of people, half of whom are pensioners who just "felt like going somewhere")
• 8:00 - First class at the university starts
• 9:25 - Ten minute break
• 9:35 - Second class at the university starts
• 11:00 - 25 minutes to have lunch (for those who actually had breakfast, unlike you) in a university cafeteria that only serves pastry, chocolate bars or some uneatable mish-mash that costs more that a meal at a decent cafe
• 11:25 - Third class starts
• 12:50 - Ten minute break
• 13:00 - Fourth class starts
• 14:20 or, if the teacher feels like telling you a bit more about his personal life, 14:40 - end of university, back into the public transport system (which is still very crowded, why the heck is nobody at work at this time of the day is still a mystery to me)
• 16:00 - Home, finally...supper, and a lot of it, especially if you haven't had any pastry-lunch
• 17:00 - Homework, but you're so tired that you fall asleep at the table or on the couch
• 20:00 - Panic, wake up, have a snack, back to homework
• 1:00 - Sleep, promise yourself that you'll get up at 5:30...today, because you need to have a decent breakfast

Ta-daaaa! How does a healthy lifestyle fit into that? I'll tell you: it doesn't. The only way to stay healthy and fit is to let some things go - otherwise, you'll end up fat with a nervous breakdown. There are ways to keep up the energy and be able to workout two or three times a week, like setting your priorities right, but don't overwork yourself. We all need to understand that those girls in the pictures that we envy live in a way that's completely different from ours. They usually only work on their appearance, which is actually their job, because 50% of them are models, and the rest are looking for a sugar daddy.

So forget about them, just make sure that you eat healthy, remain in a good mood for most of the time (no one can expect you to be cheerful at 6 AM), and just...feel fabulous. I know, TV shows have frayed up this word, but that's exactly how you should feel. If you don't, find out what's keeping you from it. 9 times out of 10, it's not the fat percentage in you body, trust me. Besides, do you really want to be a beauty with no head?